Rite tonu te mahi ( Similar Role)

I have always tried to be quite clear in these writings that while the Ruahines are a mountain range that has become MY spiritual place they are not a place for mountaineers. No great snow covered towering peaks will be seen here, no miles wide braided river valleys that meander up into huge basins surrounded by tall sentinels, no glaciers snaking out of cirques and basins deep in the valleys. The Ruahines are long and narrow, the peaks are modest, the country steep, the rivers paths to the surrounding farm land a short one. To be sure it is not country to be over confident in, a fall from many places would certainly be fatal, the rivers still capable of rising and falling very fast, and the winds up on the tops quite commonly gale force. To those whom have climbed, tramped, hiked, or simply just enjoyed views of mountains more lofty than these, the Ruahines might very well escape all attention. For myself, they are a place of magical beauty, a place that from the very first time I set foot in them stirred something in my soul, and still does. I return to them again and again, and am always transfixed, always challenged, even in places I have now been 15 or 20 times. They are my Spiritual Home.

I never expect anyone else to get that, or to experience the feelings that I do there. I suspect John and Gustav have a special relationship to this place for their own reasons, but to most they would simply be a mountain playground, an interesting place to spend a few days perhaps, or someplace different than their own place on Earth that means the same to them, a mountain, a river, a lake, the forest, or sea, it doesn't matter. Maybe I should just feel blessed I have found, or been led to, a particular place where I do feel what I do, and consider myself fortunate. Already I hear them calling to me, just a few days after spending a week there, my body still sore, legs covered in grazes, cuts and scratches, my gear still spread out here in the lounge, the scent of the mountains is always upon me.

It occurred to me on this recent trip that there is a similarity between how I view mountains and how I view friendships. I did this trip with my old friend Jeff from the states, someone I have known for over thirty years, yet over that time our actual contact has been very sporadic. He has lived in Oregon, in Alaska, in Arizona, and now Wisconsin, and by the time he moved back to Wisconsin I was on my way to New Zealand. I had not seen him in over 2 years, since my last trip home to the states. Some friendships would not survive that passing of time, ours has. Like the familiar shape of a far off peak I might not have visited in some time, yet always is there to help guide me, to simply gaze upon and reflect, and even plan a future visit. However, even though that mountain looks the same it is undergoing great changes, the slips constantly eroding the familiar, the creeks and streams always flowing and cutting their way to the rivers. Then there is weather that can change on a daily or hourly basis, the cloud and wind, the snow, rain and sleet, or the perfection of a windless sunny day. The mountains, like friendships are constantly changing and evolving, or they die. New mountains, like new friends, are constantly being uplifted, shaped, and routes discovered, and old mountains being eroded yet capable of developing great beauty in what is known. Either way in the process there are steep hills to climb and descend, many rivers to cross, many gales to face. I was glad and proud to find that spending some extensive time with my friend that our "mountains" though having changed in many ways are still the same mountains.

1 Jan. 2009 Top Maropea hut

7:00 pm

A very cool moment for me to be standing here in one of my favourite Ruahine spots, the gateway to the Maropea valley. I don't expect Jeff will get what I do here, or even understand why, but as someone who loves wild places I hope he appreciates it. He was certainly given a wild crossing of the saddle. Sunrise hut was relatively full of people waiting out the gale like winds, either spending the night there, or cancelling plans beyond Sunrise because of the wind on the exposed tops. After getting a mountain forecast from a keen tramper, John, and taking a short stroll to the exposed tops, I decided we would go for it. I have crossed this saddle 27 times now and while the wind was very strong it wasn't making it impossible for me to stand, so by hunkering through the gusts we would be fine. While it was a very windy crossing they certainly were not the worst conditions I have done it in, and I was pleased with making the call based on true experience. Back at the hut a solo 68 year old tramper, Adrian, was watching our progress, and an hour after we arrived here came rustling through the forest joining us. He said we had given him the courage to give it a go. That is cool and I told him in turn that he is giving me equally as much inspiration by simply being here. He gives me hope.

"Reflections on the Maropea River"

My soul shines and glitters
like the red and yellow beech leaves
that shimmer and dance on the river bottom
as the clear mountain water passes over
In my mind I soar down this river
joining the unerring and exhilarating
flight of the Whio
yet my steps are slow and deliberate
and there is only now
I relish in this freedom
this river
this moment
these mountains
the Beauty before me blurs
My heart sings



Photo above generously supplied by Pohangina Pete and taken on the Pohangina river in the Ruahines. Pete is linked below and has another blog of his fantastic photography at his photography blog the Ruins of the Moment: http://worldsenz.blogspot.com/







2 Jan. 2009 Maropea Forks

A beautiful day on the river, just overcast enough with glorious patches of sun bursting through at times, the water level low and easy. After 15 trips down this river it is still spectacular to me, and offering less technical river walking aspects of huge boulders and log jams and bigger rapids and pools in some of the other Ruahine rivers, on a day like today just a magical experience. I just walked quite deliberately and let me memory guide me, giving myself to the rivers flow. At one point I felt a euphoric joy wash through me, a connection I always await. Jeff and I took our time, stopping often to talk, debate, and discuss, taking an extra long lunch by the river and boiling the billy for a cup of coffee and tea. There was absolutely no need to hurry.

An additional benefit to our slow pace was that I was thinking John Nash might very well catch us up if he got across the saddle as he was planning to meet us at Maropea Forks that day. About 45 minutes from the hut I heard his familiar voice shout "Helloooo" and saw him coming around a bend in the river. It was a fine reunion, and introducing John to Jeff on a Ruahine river I thought very fitting to their places in my life. So my thoughts are of friendship. Of John, whom I have known now for 15 years and developed a huge bond and intimate sharing of these ranges with. Our travels together here have led to one of the most important friendships in my life. And Jeff, whom I have known longer, though spent less time with, so while we are rediscovering our bond, the roots are strong, and we are now nurturing it the best possible way. I am fortunate to have such people in my life. Friendship does take work and effort. It has to be nurtured and cared for. It takes acceptance of differences as well as similarities. I am learning. Today on the river I just relished Jeff's presence in front of me and also the thought of perhaps John's behind me enjoying his own walk. When it proved to be exactly the truth I just smiled.

3 Jan. 2009 Maropea Forks

It has settled into a rainy day, the river which was low yesterday is now singing a louder Tune. We have been joined by a couple fellows who appeared out of the mist like Bedouins from across the river. They had come from Lake Colenso, a good days work to be sure. Bruce and Gwynffryn or Gwynn for short. Gywnn hales originally from Wales, the second Welshman I have been in these ranges with, and both hale from Waipawa, a town not far from the Ruahines. They are on a pretty hearty mission covering some big country but I think are happy to be here in the dry warm hut. On days like this the hut porch is a fine place to be, and so is curled up in warm sleeping bag on a bunk as both Bruce and Gwynnffryn are now. I reckon they are here to stay.

Jeff, John, and I are gearing up for a walk up through the forest to the tops and Point 1450, a route John and I came down a few years ago and opens up into some pretty wide open tops of the main Ruahine range. It will most likely be pretty clagged in up there but the rain has slowed and I think Jeff in particular would like to get out and stretch the legs, and explore some of this country. The rain has slowed to a slight drizzle and the forest should be amazing and alive in the muted light of this grey day.

"Walk to Point 1450"

Oh how the upper forest beech trees
dance and sway
in the gusting music playing overhead
they creak and moan

in the misty grey storm
singing with the wind

Gaze down upon the forest floor
of this steep ridge

and see the lichens and mosses

come alive and illuminate this mountain
Their true colours no longer contained by sunlight
it is their time to shine and glow
against the muted grey sky

In the distance the creamy green flanks

of Orupu and Maroparea emerge

their golden tussock tops hidden

in the clouds
as are we
Cloud Hidden

I walk with my friends

Jeff fishing on the Maropea after the forks.

A nice Ruahine rainbow trout



5 Jan. 2009 Top Maropea


Our final evening on this summer trip. A different experience than in the past but I would not change a moment. As I wrote on an earlier post, accepting the Gifts we are given in Nature is far better than being upset over plans that might have been.

The sky is now completely still and barely a whiff of a breeze ripples the forest here at Top Maropea. In the distance the peaks begin to reflect the play of light from the setting sun moving beyond us. The 27th time I will have watched this canvass being painted. Each one unique in its own way.

I walked up from Maropea Forks on my own just being absorbed in the beauty all around me. The river and forest like old friends,the high peaks above calling me home, which suited this trip quite well really. To my surprise I found myself at the head of the side creek which climbs to Top Maropea after what seemed like no time at all. I climbed up to the track and waited for Jeff and John in the beech forest.They came along within a short time and I waited for them as they did the grueling vertical climb up that nasty 200 metre "track". So my final evening here in the Ruahines on this summer trip with Jeff. I know John and I will return here at some stage, but these could be my final moments in a place I love with an old friend I love. I am trying to absorb it all.

We have what will surely be a lovely and rare beautiful and calm walk back over Armstrong saddle in the morning, but the final evening is always melancholic for me, and now those reasons are twofold. Leaving these ranges, another trip completed, and also saying goodbye soon to my treasured friend, friends.

I console myself in that we have created moments to relish, that windy crossing of the saddle, a day on the river, renewing friendships and creating new ones, climbing in the forest, cups of tea, watching Jeff hook that beautiful rainbow and give Thanks to the Ruahines. Time grows short but we will enjoy this evening and tomorrow will unfold on Her own terms.



Friendships that are old, some that are relatively new. It is all full of Possibility. I thank the Ruahines, Jeff, John, Tara, all the people I have traveled with in these mountains. To Nigel, Taylor, Gustav, Rick, Steve, Adam, Scott, another Steve, Gyro, John, John from Wales, and last but not least ol' Bones, the man I was with when first coming to this for me sacred spot at Top Maropea. I gaze out upon this view and Thank You all. And also the people I have not met, aside from Bob, Pete, and Jamie, who might read here and hopefully enjoy. Some I have connected with in ways I know this place calls strongly and others where it is enough to know places like this just are there. I raise my tin cup to you all!

Aroha
Robb

Thoughts and Summer Tour 2009

Once again I ready myself for my annual summer holiday journey amongst the Ruahine ranges. The eighth such summer trip of reasonable duration done this time of year. I can recall so very well those prior trips, as I have always written a diary along the way, take photos to capture the moments, and savour them later like a fine wine. And of course, share them here as well, for those who care to read them, to view this place, and even get a glimpse of what they mean and have brought to my life.

This years trip will be a little different, a little bit of an interesting twist, and hopefully will come off as a success. Though commonly on these mountain trips it is not the memories of a trip coming off exactly as planned, but rather the patience, joy, and aroha with which we accept the Gifts we are given instead.

I am driving down to Wellington on New Year's Eve and picking up my friend Jeff early in the morning at the airport. He has been traveling in the south island with his lovely wife Sarah, and daughter Zoe visiting family he has living in Christchurch. He is joining me for a week and a five night adventure in the Ruahines. So we will celebrate New Year's eve here with my family and a few friends, then early on New Year's day drag our hopefully not too sore heads out to the mountains. Jeff is one of my oldest friends, dating back to 1980 when we met at Ripon College where he played basketball and I played football. We shared a love of music and more so a love of being outdoors, of wandering in Nature and just being amongst Her. Jeff's wonderment really impacted me and started me on my own journey which continues today. He was my first Nature mentor, someone who helped open this door inside me quite possibly never even knowing he did.

I would write the chances of Jeff returning to this part of the world are slim. This is really a once in a lifetime trip for him and his family. That is just reality. So the opportunity to share my love of the Ruahines with this friend literally brings tears to my eyes. I just want to savour the reconnection and create memories that will have to last the rest of our days. To be in a timeless place with this friend, where time has no meaning except light and dark, for five days, is a gift to treasure.

The other interesting aspect is that sometime on our second day we are meeting John Nash, my fine Kiwi friend and long time tramping companion well represented in this place. John has a few prior plans and will walk in and meet us at Maropea Forks and spend three nights with us as we roam around a bit. I have not seen John since our winter trip in July so I relish his presence as well, and the thought of these two very important people in my life meeting and breaking bread together brings a large smile to my face. Sometimes it is cool to just sit back, watch and Listen. I can't wait!!!

I dedicate this coming trip to all three of the people pictured above:

To Bob Mckerrow on the left for your unabashed acceptance, hospitality, experience, and friendship. I know you can't walk in the mountains just yet my friend, so let me walk for you. I take you with me in spirit, and have a fine wee dram to toast you with!

To my beautiful wife Tara for your aroha, for your refusal to accept mediocrity, and your understanding and acceptance of what this is to me, to us. I love you darlin'.

And to Ed Cotter, a man I have only once met, but was simply one of those of those people you do not forget. Ed is peer of Ed Hillary, a climber of legendary status. In our conversation he told me that on so many nights he shared high on mountains with Hillary or George Lowe, or any other climber of note, that the others would always break out their diaries and write about the day. Ed said he was never concerned with that then, that the climbs and experiences were fresh and he thought he would remember them vividly. He is now 82 years old and regrets a bit he did not write these things down. He remembers the climbs well enough, but what is gone are the moments of laughter, of the banter, of the real conversations now gone like a wisp of smoke up a hut chimney. So I dedicate this to Ed Cotter, for making me realize the "importance" of my own written words, even if they are just for me. So the aroma of the musty forest, or wood smoke is always upon me, so the sound of the clear mountain river is never gone, so the sight of a far off peak reveals itself through a break on a ridge, so the Ruahines are always with me and part of me.

Aroha

Hononga (Connection)

I have often heard people not "into" the world of blogging comment on the potential negative aspects of using such a tool. That we can choose our persona, that we can put up an image of who we wish we really were rather than are, that it is simply ego based self gratification, that we are interacting not with people but rather with cerebral entities, and so on. I sometimes wondered myself what exactly I am getting out of this pursuit, perhaps these points are well taken. I cannot write for others what their experiences have been, I can only share mine. This is my truth, and I have always felt that if I write from my heart, honestly, and genuinely, that the connections I make here will reflect that, ( and possibly even improve my writing). Here is another truth. Since starting this place a little over a year ago I have connected with many people here, and I have actually met in person 4 individuals with whom I established a relationship with via this medium. Each one of those has been exactly the person reflected in their writings, each one has improved my life in some small way, or big way, and each one is as open, honest, and genuine as I strive to be. So I am four for four, 100% accurate in connecting with people I share with here in person. I have little doubt now, that the other people I frequently interact with would be exactly the same. I like the odds.

Tara and I have just returned from a trip to the South Island. Our first real experience of any duration together, alone, in almost 15 years. So it was a reconnection of very important and renewing depth for ourselves as well. We were invited down south by the man pictured on the left, Bob Mckerrow, whom I met through the blog. Bob is back in Christchurch and had both knees replaced less than a month ago, and as is his nature and in spite of being in a lot of pain, took advantage of the time to bring people together. Bob runs the Red Cross in Indonesia, and has been involved with them and other humanitarian work since the early 1970's. A native Kiwi he has spent extensive time in India, Afghanistan, Vietnam, and too many places to list here, at the forefront of war, disaster, and famine. Long after the news media loses interest in places like Aceh, people like Bob remain behind. He has also spent time in Antarctica, been to the North Pole, is an accomplished climber and kayaker, and is also an author and poet. Blob's blog is at : http://bobmckerrow.blogspot.com/

Bob invited Tara and I down, having never met us before, and on crutches met us at the airport along with his lovely daughter Aroha. That afternoon, and stretching long into the evening, he hosted a barbecue attended by a fairly amazing and accomplished group of people. In the photo above are Bob, Tara - my amazing wife, and to the right is Ed Cotter. Ed is a legendary mountaineer in the world of climbing. A contemporary of Ed Hillary, George Lowe, Norm Hardie, he climbed with Hillary in the Himalaya's and probably most of the high peaks in New Zealand and was also instrumental in the establishment of the Great Walks of the South Island. At age 82 he is still active in the hills. I was in awe of him, yet he had no ego whatsoever, just a genuine and calm presence, and put me completely at ease. He started to ask me about my travels in the Ruahines, saying he had heard good things about them, and then complimenting me when I told him I often venture out alone! A guy who has done what he has saying that to me. I felt 10 feet tall.




Pictured above to the left of Ed Cotter is Colin Monteath. Colin is one of the worlds leading Nature photographers, writer, and mountaineer. He has traveled the world and is particularly a leading expert on Antarctica, having spent summers there for over 27 years. He established a publishing company named Hedgehog Press, with the ideal of "increasing the awareness of the need to look after the polar and mountain regions of the world". His web site is at : http://www.hedgehoghouse.com/ .

Colin and his wife Betty were both lovely, friendly, and a joy to meet.

Enjoying a red wine with Bob is Robert (Bob) Headland. Bob came along with Colin and Betty and had just docked in Lyttleton after returning from Antarctica. A delightful man, I found out the next day he is considered the worlds leading authority on Antarctica. The information below was taken off the website for Quark Expeditions: http://www.quarkexpeditions.com/

Robert Keith Headland
Bob Headland is a Senior Associate of the Scott Polar Research Institute, University of Cambridge. His principal interest is historical geography, specifically concerning human effects on polar regions. Bob is an adviser to several expeditionary organizations, departments of government, a Fellow of the Royal Geographical Society, and a member of the Institute for Historical Research of the University of London. His published works include books and numerous articles on his specializations. In 1984, he was decorated with the Polar Medal and is a member of both the Arctic Club and the Antarctic Club.
Bob is the historian aboard the Northeast Passage and Arctic Islands expeditions in the boreal summer of 2008.

Robin Judkins, founder of the Speights Coast to Coast Race, one of the fathers of Adventure Racing, artist and raconteur. An old friend of Bob's.

Robb with Bob and Ed. Pretty heady company at this function for the likes of me, but I guess life is about learning, meeting new people, and finding new paths to pursue. It was really a lovely evening. Bob's daughters Ruia and Aroha, and Ruia's partner Gavin providing an array of nibbles and a fine cook up, chops cooked perfectly!

Another interesting person there, whom left a bit before I was brave enough to get out my camera was Jamie, another person connected with through the blog. Jamie had just returned from China and was finishing up a stint as the director at the Arthur's Pass Outdoor Recreation Centre. He invited Tara and I to drive up into the mountains and spend a day or two with him at Arthur's Pass, one of the famous and historic South Island mountain areas. How could we say no?

While the above photos are all in the Arthur's Pass area and taken along the road, they were not taken by me. For two reasons, one being that the whole day was either raining steadily or torrential so our view was very narrow, and secondly after doing a walk in the rain with Jamie up to the Devil's Punchbowl, pictured above, my camera completely malfunctioned. So the above photos were all supplied by Bob, and certainly give a taste of what the area is like. My goodness, the possibilities in those mountains is only limited by the imagination, and skill level.

Tara and I drove to the village and met Jamie. Jamie's parents Chris and Debbie run the information centre for the Department of Conservation and live right in the middle of the small village Arthur's Pass, population 40. They kindly offered us a place to stay, lit the fire, and left us to enjoy the rain, the shimmering white water falls forming on the steep hill sides, and a fine library to browse through. Eventually I had to get amongst this place, rain or no rain, and Jamie and I walked up to the Devil's Punchbowl, and hours walk or so. Any time spent in Nature is valuable to me, and judging by the smile on Jamie's face, to him as well. How cool to walk in the rain and get to know someone I have become connected with via this way and feel completely comfortable doing so. These moments are ones we recognize and grab onto, or let them slip away, and I am getting better and more intuitive at knowing when they are here. This was one.

Later, joined by Tara, Chris, and Debbie, we retired to the local, and only, pub - The Wobbly Kea, for a few libations and then returned to the house for a lovely dinner prepared by Debbie. Afterwards we enjoyed a fine evening around the fire, a robust discussion, laughter and stories, and a few wee drams as well! Tara tried Stone's Ginger Wine for the first time, and judging by the small amount left in the bottle at the end of the evening seemed to enjoy it. Chris and Debbie on our next trip through we will bring another bottle. The hospitality of our hosts was exceptional and a day and evening Tara and I will recall fondly.

I returned to the Arthur's Pass highway on my own a day later. Leaving Bob's house early in the morning, again an overcast slightly drizzly day, but I had to get out and climb up something. I stopped at the Korowai / Torlesse Tussocklands and headed off. I was fairly limited as I had no pack, extra gear, compass, or water, but stuffing a few big juicy apples and some cashews in my pockets started climbing into the mist. I climbed about two hours up, to around 1100 metres or so judging by my map, and it started getting a bit windier, wetter, and colder. I could see the higher peaks above me emerge through the mist from time to time, the whole scene not unlike many experiences in the Ruahines. Had I been better equipped I would have gone on, but climbing into unknown terrain in cloudy, wet conditions alone and with no equipment is just not very smart, so I just enjoyed walking back down thinking, and being lost in the moment. I was surprised to see the the car suddenly appear in front of me. How the mountains call to me.

Kura Tawhiti is a large area of an ancient limestone sea bed now eroded into fantastic shapes and sizes. Not much further up the road to Arthur's Pass than Korowai/Torlesse area I drove up hoping to get a few photos we had missed in the rain a few days earlier. Just as I arrived there the sun came out and so I walked up amongst these amazing formations, and then spent a few hours just roaming around them. The sense of energy I felt here literally pulsated, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. At one point way in the back of them I felt the Earth gently calling me to lie down on this sun warmed limestone and connect to Her. I fell asleep amongst this mystical place, surrounded by mountains on a bed of warm smooth limestone. As I pulled out of the parking area onto the road it began to rain again.

Later when I returned to Bob's I was almost reluctant to tell him of my experience when he asked what I had done that day. So I simply said I had been to Kura Tawhiti, and that I sensed a lot of energy there. Bob just looked at me and told me it is a very spiritual place, his connection to it, and how the ancient Maori used its caves and local streams to shelter and gather food on their journeys across the island. I, too, somehow feel part of it, or at least cognizant of its pull.




Bob signing my copy of his book, Teichelmann, for me enjoying the afternoon sun with his brand new knees.

I would like thank Bob, his daughters Ruia and Aroha, Ruia's partner Gavin, for their unflinching hospitality. It was really a special experience and they are all wonderful people. Also to Jamie, and his parents Chris and Debbie, it was delightful, and Jamie we hope to see you up here! The South Island is a beautiful magical place, full of wonderful people, and I can't wait to get back to explore more of her charms.


Always good to get home to these two though! Happy Holidays to all, may you all be blessed with joy and happiness!
Aroha,
Robb

Thanksgiving

It is always around this time of year I find my thoughts drifting back to the place I originally placed my feet (Turangawaewae). It is Thanksgiving season in the states, a signalling of many significant aspects to the year. Time to reflect on the year rapidly passing, the final throes of Autumn finally relenting to the onset of winter, time to gather family and friends close to us, and of course, as a child, the countdown to Christmas begins. Even as a kid growing up in Wisconsin it was always my favourite holiday, somewhat for the reason written above, but even then I seemed to have some innate understanding of the importance and temporal nature of these gatherings. That somehow contained in all this chaos of cooking, drinking, eating, not getting our good clothes dirty, and finally at some stage, my Swedish grandfather commanding the stage and telling us stories while wildly waving his hands about, that this was a moment of perfection in an otherwise very imperfect family. Now, I have become my grandfather.

We do not celebrate Thanksgiving in New Zealand, hence the reason for my drifting thoughts and melancholic meanderings. We have had a few, including a huge gathering one year when my mom came over, but moving into summer here they always seem to take on more of a Kiwi barbecue atmosphere, with the real meaning of the experience somehow being removed from the day. So eventually we just drifted away from recognizing the day, aside from perhaps me settling on the couch listening to music, looking at old photos, and having a quiet drink and toasting my far away loved ones.

I do not have a lot of photos of those times, but I have a treasure trove of memories in my heart.

That's me in the middle, and in the back my beautiful older sister Kathy, brother Steve, cousin Roger, my Great Aunt Ruth holding my still gorgeous baby sister Trish, and my Great Uncle Harry holding my cousin Nancy. My great aunt and uncle never had kids of their own so we always loved each others company. They lived in downtown Chicago in an upper of a huge old brown stone, full of nooks and crannies to play and hide amongst. Harry loved his drink, and would take us boys to the local taverns which was always an interesting adventure in the big city. They were both lovely and I miss them dearly. Harry taught me how to fish and shoot a rifle, he left me his Johnson outboard 18 horse power 1959 motor. I still have it, and it still runs perfect in the care of my great friend Carl back in Green Bay. One day I will give it to Taylor. I wonder if he will understand the significance of such an item.

An even earlier photo of Thanksgiving with my Grandpa Ivar holding me as a baby on his lap, Ruth, Nancy, my Great Grandmother, Steve, my Aunt Jean holding baby Roger, Kathy, and my Grandma Grace. Ivar came over from Sweden on the Lusitania, which on the return journey to Europe in 1915 was sunk by a German u-boat. He met my Irish grandmother and caused a near scandal amongst the very ethnic oriented communities of Chicago by falling in love with her. They were married for over 60 years. When she was dying in Florida, ravaged by dementia, he and I stood outside her hospital room and looked in at her lying there. She was smiling and he said to me, "look at her smile, she always had the most beautiful smile in the world. She is the only girl I ever kissed". Even writing that now still brings tears to my eyes. I miss them both dearly.

My dad in front holding Roger, Ruth, Nancy and Kathy, and in back my mom holding Trish, Ivar, Grace, Uncle Harry, and my Aunt Jean and my Uncle Roger, the neatest aunt and uncle a kid could have. Only my mom and Aunt Jean remain amongst the adults in this photo, and brother Steve is gone as well. My mom and my Aunt Jean are still living life to the fullest, and two of the most stunning women I know. The four men in this photo were the greatest male influences in my life, which most of the time is a hugely positive thing. They were wonderful men, beautiful and flawed in their own ways, and I loved each one dearly. How I would love for them to meet my sons Taylor and Charlie.




Thanksgiving dinner at my grandparents in Chicago, little kids had to sit at the card table which would have meant Roger, Trish, and I. We still had fun. I can close my eyes and smell the turkey, hear the laughter, I can walk through each room of that house with unerring direction even though I have not been there for over thirty five years.





Being allowed my first crack at carving the turkey, a passing of the torch. The first left handed turkey carver in the family!




My mom and I in New Zealand , Thanksgiving 1998. The last time I celebrated Thanksgiving. I think perhaps I will organize a small gathering of family and a few friends here in New Zealand. My boys deserve to connect with, or at least be exposed to some of their culture and heritage. And even in a year such as this, with doom and gloom on every seeming horizon, there is still so much that I really need to recognize and Be Thankful for ..........


My family here in New Zealand. Tara's parents, Tony and Val, whom have taken me in without question as part of the family, and loved my children unconditionally and completely. Tara's sister Karley, another little sister in every way. Tara for simply being who she is and our journeys, together and apart. Taylor, my oldest son, the catalyst of so much in my life, a challenge and sometimes a complete joy in listening to his questioning of what is around him. And Charlie, an unexpected gift, keeping the eyes of a child upon me.

To the friendships I have grown here in Aotearoa. Nigel, John, Chris, and Erika. I find it harder as I get older to cultivate friendships, yet I have been blessed here to include a few people whom I consider family as well.

To the people who read here and share this place, and allow me to share theirs. To have connected, literally, with a small group of people from all over the world in this way has been such a joy. Each of you has taught me so much, and I am honoured to have you here. I thank you all.

And, of course, I am Thankful for Wild Places. In particular the Ruahine ranges. I still relive the feeling of awe and wonderment I experienced with Nigel and John the very first interaction I had with them in 1994 on Gold Crown ridge. Almost in the same way I recall my grandparent's house. I just close my eyes and I am there. Each time I return to the ranges I am overwhelmed with a feeling of Being Home. I am blessed by this place and what it has brought to my life. May we all find such a place. Happy Thanksgiving!

Aroha,

Robb

Indications

Sitting outside Rangiwahia hut in the late afternoon after returning over the windy and clagged in Whanahuia's, I was enjoying a cup of tea and when I looked to the north east saw this cloud formation above me. The lenticular layer is called a hog's back formation, a harbinger of bad weather usually in the form of northwest high winds and a storm to come. Indeed it began to rain and gust heavily later that evening, and as I walked down in the misty grey dawn it was both windy and pouring rain.



It seems as if in a way here in Aotearoa we have our own hogs back cloud hovering over the islands. Our election here outed the Labour government to install a National one, or basically exchanging a left for right on the political spectrum. Made more threatening by the fact that under our MMP system that National in order to form a government has to go into coalition with a party called ACT. So for the next three years we have a conservative right majority being supported by a radically far right minority. This bodes well for the rich white fat cat developers, for the concepts of big business and progress, power companies, and generally the well to do. It does not bode well for the poor, or even middle class, for the Resource Management Act, for any state owned enterprise, and certainly not for any of our wild areas. There is a feeling of people rubbing their hands together in glee. The wrong people.


As a country the mood was to vote for "change". I was somewhat flabbergasted to talk to so many people who believed that Barack Obama was the catalyst for change here, almost a mandate to vote for a different government. Yet the change in the states was a vast swing to the left, to potential equality, possibility, and hope. To change to the right here simply for the sake of change rather astounds me, and people seemed unable to make that connection to what Obama is, and what John Key will never be. There will be little change to the make up of a National led cabinet to what it would have been 3 years, even 6 years ago. The same faces, the same agendas, made worse by the inclusion of ACT, whose simplistic "policies" I consider just left of Fascism.

Yet democracy has spoken, and we deserve the government we ask for. We seem unable to accept that in some ways, many ways, we have to change the way we live, our very systems of progress, to leave a better world for future generations. I suspect the fight for our wild places has only just begun.




On the other hand, to witness, and participate, in the election of Barack Obama was perhaps my proudest moment as an American. I hold no illusions that racism and poverty have ended, and that Obama and America do not face monumental challenges. The issue, for instance, of Indigenous Americans, seems to have greatly been overlooked and there is much healing and acknowledgement to be done there as well before we have real conversations about equality and opportunity for all races. And of course the economic issues facing not only the states but the world. I am inspired by the Possibility that we have a man inside the system who can bring the first steps of real change to that system be a reality. At some stage we have to stop stealing from our children. I can only write that it was a day we will all remember, a day of history and hope, a day America took a step towards being for all what it was supposed to be at it's inception.


I urge all who read at my place here to check out http://www.cassandrapages.com/ and read a post called The Rewrite, by Teju Cole. Actually all of Beth's writings are of interest, but this one for me really captured this moment of change in America.

Another place I would like to recommend is at http://russelltom.blogspot.com and a post named One More American Moment by Tom Russell. Not only is Tom one of America's most talented and under rated song writers, but also someone who is on par with Abbey, Bukowski, and Hunter S. Thompson as an observer of the real under belly of America.



"Man is not built to vegetate or stagnate - we like to progress - zero growth environmental policies fly in the face of human nature".
Gerald Ford, former Republican president, 1974.

Tell that to these guys Gerald.

Charlie holding my new niece, Hazel Rose.

Aroha