Festival of Trees

To the Festival of Trees:

The photo below is a few years old now. I took it after a few days in the mountains alone and standing a bit above a clear large mountain river this tree across it clinging to life came into my view. And in that moment became a brother from where I was at in my own life at that same time..

"Observation on the River"

Your flawed elegance astounds me

Ramrod straight

As if proudly displaying your wounds

Scarred by time

battered by countless storms

Your soul precariously exposed

Eroded by what also sustain and nourishes

Yet possessing a Strength

I cannot fathom

Holding onto each moment

Until you are finally claimed to join

The Dance of the Endless Flow

It is Me

-Robb Kloss, written outside Ngamoko hut in the Ruahine range, Aotearoa ( New Zealand)

Mountain Whispers

11 Sept. 2010

Heritage lodge - Ruahine

Robb and Charlie Kloss

I have spent a fair bit of time here over the last year. A trip with John late in 2009 when we had to retreat from the storm ridden Whanahuias and find another way up the valley, then again in December with Gustav when I could no longer move well prior to having my hip replaced, and again with him last month after having it done and we proceeded up valley again. So to be here this evening with Charlie I feel very much at home, the clouds drifting over the distant Whanahuias, the sound of the river muttering far below us, and the dark green spurs running up to the ridges all familiar, all welcoming. Charlie collects wood and runs about, his energy levels still high and this is a fine place for a young boy to be full of energy.

It was a different sort of journey we did today. Sitting here now writing this I realize I was applying my experience accrued over the last 19 years, and more so somewhat wistfully at the expense of my elder son Taylor. Back in his day of being 7 he was pushed hard on young legs to places in here not so many young legs would have ventured, and because I was focused on getting him to some distant place with a heavy pack upon my shoulders I was not as aware of his needs, as patient with him, nor as observant of my own place here as I should have been. And though I know Taylor has many aspects of those trips still swirling inside of him, standing here now I feel a lump in my throat. The mountains were still growing within me back then.

Charlie in the sun in the lower forest

Climbing up towards the tops

Still climbing!

Charlie thought this would be a cool place to camp. It would be!

Climbing dead fall over track

11 Sept. Continued:

My plan with Charlie is to go a bit more tenderly, let him grow into the mountains a bit more slowly than Taylor and I did. Instead of just putting a pack on his back and pointing up a huge hill, or a mountain river and tell him to just start walking, why not let him experience these places on his own terms right now. We both carried packs into Heritage, 45 minutes or so from the car, then dropped off my big pack and putting some extra gear, food and water into his smaller one, off we went. I was just as excited as Charlie, as in all my years and visits to this area, I had never climbed up the track from Heritage to Tunipo, so it was all new for me as well.

So when Charlie wanted to stop and look at some big tree, or climb up storm fallen trees lying on the spur, stomp around in the mud puddles, or just gaze off into the distance, he did. We were in no hurry, I did not have to really worry about the weather, or what is was like up top trying to get across, or how long it was taking us to climb up, or even worrying about a route I had never been on before. When I sensed he had had enough we would stop and have some lunch and a long rest. Then turn around and go back to the hut.

An unforeseen bonus for me was how quickly I found myself in my mountain frame of mind. Carrying a very light pack I felt light of foot and spirit, the forest washing through me and I could just let myself be free. It was a perfect plan!

Up on the ridge

A seldom seen Ruahine Elf!

Same Swan dry, different boy. Taylor (7) and Nigel on the tops during a stormy day back in 2000.

I never fail to be invigorated by a walk in the forest, the energy seems to shimmer and glow, radiating from the tall trees and the moss and lichens. The feel of the ferns brushing on bare skin like satin as we pass through a grove. I saw Charlie stop ahead and literally pet the first moss covered stump pictured above as if it were a living creature, as it is. To see him get that, and respond to it warmed me through. You could stop at such a spot, and spend hours trying to count the different shades of green, the various types of moss and lichen and simply just appreciate the soft loving blanket they provide the forest.

I felt wonderful as Charlie and I walked back down through the forest, light on my feet, without the numbing pain and limp of the past. That never fails to amaze me, and a reminder to never take any moment here for granted. My thoughts drifted to the friend I lost this past week. Tanuvasa Shane Sitivi you always appreciated my love of the mountains, and we often talked of doing a trip together. We never did. Another lump gathers in my throat. I am sorry I never did that for you brother, I should have. So I walk for you now. May the gentle mountain breeze always be upon you.

Charlie did well. And the other great thing we learned is how far he can go and enjoy himself in one day. It opens up a lot of potential mountain exploration this coming summer. Stay Tuned!

Aroha,

Robb

Whereabouts Unknown

1 August - In the Ruahine

Robb and Gustav

It does not take long to feel the mountain energy inside me. Meandering over the farmland to the Ruahine boundary brings warmth to my soul, and the easy stroll through the wide forest path seems effortless. The musical accompaniment of water and wetness all around, the insistent fast falling stream beside us, and the thumping muttering of the river further below and the thought of the next 3 days amongst this symphony fills me with joy. That sound will soon become part of the background, part of my existence, but I am always aware it is there, and how beautiful it is, and how fortunate I am to even be here. Last week I was up high, alone amongst the snow covered tops, the music of the wind on the tussock and the tupare, beeches and Kaikawaka, so to now to be lower amongst the life giving water released from on high somehow completes the journey.

That I am here with one of my oldest and dearest friends just heightens and brightens the smile upon my face. I am Home.

Getting ready for the light show at sunset



Sunlit beech after a rain shower

Always a bit of work to be done. Gustav resupplying the wood stock.

Back in November of 1991 I visited Gustav out in San Francisco where he was living at the time. We spent an entire day in the John Muir redwood forest, walking deep into the musty coolness and intense energy of the huge red woods. It was a day that moved me deeply, one that for told to me that change was upon me, that Nature was calling strongly. Six months later I met Tara, and 6 months or so after that I moved to New Zealand. I wrote the following poem later that day back at Gustav's Sausalito home. At the time we had known each other for over 10 years and I wanted to convey the beauty of the day and the depth of our friendship. When I came across it a few days ago I realized it is a poem that has grown with us. Gustav's first trip to the Ruahine was in 1998 when we spent 4 days in the Whanahuia's. Like the trip to the red woods moved me, the Ruahine impacted Gustav deeply as well. Not long after he moved to Tasmania where he still lives. To Old Friends!


"Tall statues of Nature's Domain
Their presence dominating yet gentle
The energy palpable
A timeless blanket of protection and strength
We walk in their midst
Silent, and awed
Unhurried and sure
My friend walks ahead
Noble and Thoughtful
And though we walk separate paths
in our lives
In our hearts
Our minds
May our footsteps remain the same."


19 years later, my friend walks ahead in the Ruahine.




Ruahine forest and river.

2 August
Deep in a Ruahine valley by the river

Gustav diligently chops wood, and drags more out of the forest. All is wet and saturated and will test our fire building skills. I tend to our steaks marinating in olive oil, a bit of garlic and black bean sauce, and just before cooking to be encrusted with crushed pistachios and almonds. It is, after all, a special occasion. We are here.

The forest walk sidling above the river, one of my favourites, was an invigorating and renewing experience. A year ago, on the same walk with John, my hip hurt so bad I was almost in tears. Looking back I am not even sure how I did it, and perhaps it was only the energy pulsating in this lush place that flowed into me and allowed me to continue. Today I walked and smiled, looking ahead at troublesome roots and slippery rocks, or steep climbs and descents that would suddenly be behind me. The forest was lit up in vibrant greens and crystalline droplets of water. The glowing mosses and lichens greeting me once again under the forest canopy.

At one stage I thought I would just forget about hopping from log to rock over a particularly muddy section, as I was already wet and muddy anyway. I decided to just walk through it so I did, only to find myself buried in mud up to my waist and struggling to with drawl myself from it's squelching embrace. I smiled at that too.



Winding up through the lush forest.




Sunlight through the canopy on moss, lichens and ferns.



The sunlit path ahead.



In the forest with the sound of the river close by.


2 Aug. late afternoon.

Being in the mountains over these past few weeks has been a revealing process for me. If it has reinforced anything within me it is to appreciate each moment I am able to spend here, and to truly recognize it very well might be my last. Though the Ruahine will always reside deep within my soul, the very real possibility of being unable to travel here hovers around me. And perhaps it should, for it is a constant reminder of the value these mountains have brought to my life, and the importance of nature and wilderness to us all. A fragile relationship at best. I finger the pounamu (greenstone) pendant which hangs around my neck, a beautiful gift given to me on my birthday by my wonderful friends. It's vibrant green and changing colours representing the lush forest, and the shape being the maunga, or mountain. I treasure it and I feel its warmth absorbing the energy around and of my own soul. We are one.









Relaxing



3 August early morning by the river

The river has come down noticeably during the night, returning to the more quiet mood of clear and aqua green when she is not so angry. I sit with a cup of tea and wait for a whio to fly by. I heard one earlier, and Gustav saw one yesterday. As long as they are here. So I have had the mountains rivers and streams over the past three days, the music now deep within me. Last week was the tussock and snow high above. It's music dwells inside as well. Both so beautiful, and so moving, each with it's own special and unique song of Wildness. Go to the mountains and Listen to the Music, get their Glad Tidings. I am here, I am alive! Te hei mauri ora!



The mountain river.



Gustav climbing up another spur.




Above the river. This place and shapes reminds me of my pounamu. The Ruahine.

Aroha,
Robb

Ruahine Huritau (Birthday)

26 July, 2010
Purity hut, Hikurangi range

I sit on the sun drenched porch of Purity hut, which sits high on the open tussock of the Hikurangi range, the highest of the five sub ranges which make up the Ruahine. Looking out to the west I watch puffy clouds drift over the volcano's, Ruapehu, Ngaruhoe, and Tongariro - The Rim of Fire. The snow glistens in the sun upon their flanks like shimmering satin. To my north the high tops of the Hikurangi loom above, majestic with the cloak of snow draped upon her shoulders. To the south lie the Whanhuia's and the Pourangaki valley, all places I know well.

Yet this is the first time I have placed my feet here at the southern end of the Hikurangi and Purity hut. So it is special to be here in a new portion of the Ruahine, on my own to celebrate with the mountains my 50th birthday.


The Rim of Fire.


On days like this there a few places more sublime to wander than a high Ruahine ridge.






26 July afternoon.
I was sitting in the sun up above the hut in the golden tussock when from behind me and out of nowhere, a kahu (hawk) just swooped directly past my head! It was so close I could feel the wind rush by me, and hear the rustle of the air upon it's feathers. Exhilarating. Now it soars just above me in graceful arch's and circles with the air currents. I can only think of the words I read at Pohangina Pete's place a few mere days ago when he wrote a post on the Kahu and one of his commenter's made reference to a book (This House of Sky, by Ivan Doig), in which he describes a hawk or eagle soaring exactly like that as "Correcting, Correcting". At the time I read it I did not think too much about it, but now I understand perfectly. I get it. Correcting, Correcting!


Emerging out of the forest to the open tops. The golden tussock can be seen just peeking up over the trees, and the hut lies amongst it.


Purity hut, looking north the Hikurangi. The hut lies on the southern tip of the same range.


26 July Early evening
The clouds have moved in, the wind picked up, and it has begun to sleet. I am indeed cloud hidden. The temperature has quickly dropped to 2 degrees celsius when the sun left. But I still sit outside on the porch, dressed warmly, and with map and compass I am enjoying looking around while I still can. I don't have to go anywhere, nor do anything, except just be here.


The Hikurangi tops just above and behind the hut.


The cloud moves in over the Rangitikei plains. My world is about to be truly cloud hidden.

27 July - morning
Looking out the snow flecked window contemplating what these places really mean to me, to us.
The simplicity of being in the mountains, or any wilderness we choose, on my own. The choices to do this or that, yet also making decisions that are crucial to my well being and having the skills and knowledge to get along in living simply. Perhaps it is only here that I have ever really experienced true and complete freedom. Maybe that is what Wild Places truly offer us. Why do we try so hard to destroy it?



A good place for a lie down after such heavy contemplation.


27 July evening,
The rain and snow finally eased in the afternoon, so I went for a climb in the mist and cloud up towards Mangaweka. The wind was still pretty fierce, and I could see nothing at all except directly around me, but it was good to stretch the legs and be out amongst it. After an hour or so as I started to get into the deep snow which I was not really equipped for I turned back. As soon as I got back to the hut it began to pour once again a mixed slurry of sleet, snow, and rain. Time for a cup of tea and throw another log on the fire.


The hut appearing out of the mist just in the centre. Not too hard to lose the way in conditions like this.




27 July late evening
My thoughts on turning 50.
As much as I would like to be one of those who might write 'I don't feel 50", as I sit here alone in a candle lit hut with only myself the honest and truthful answer to that is I guess I do. I don't have anything else to compare it to and it seems this is really the only moment that matters, this one right now.
I can't run up spurs and ridges like I used to, but then again I don't have to, or even want to. I would miss too much along the way. My journey is a different one than it was back then, or maybe it is the same one just that I am in a different place. In any matter what is the point of comparing what was to what is. As long as I never write "This is it, this is me", and I have stopped asking questions, seeking, learning, and growing into the man I will become. I am okay with that.


Purity hut at dawn.



A dawn walk down into the silent snow stilled forest awaits.



Listen! Snow covered Kaikawaka. The still dawn, the ice and snow seem to reveal the character and soul of the forest. It is why I love early morning walks the best.







In a days time my friend Gustav arrives from Tasmania, to celebrate my birthday with a few friends and family, and then he and I will retreat back to the Ruahine for a few more days. That is the best birthday present I can wish for myself.





Tihei mauri ora!
Aroha
Robb