Wonderful World of WWOOFing

Farming Firsts So Far at Ngaroma Homestead

1. Shearing a sheep

2. Firing a rifle

3. Driving a quad bike

4. Running a pack of dogs

5. Herding sheep with the dogs and the quad bike

Picture your very favorite city-girl-goes-down-on-the-farm story - it can be anything at all, as long is it's not the Hannah Montana movie. Now picture me fulfilling a lot of those timeless tropes: she intentionally tries to miss actually shooting the Canadian geese; she's not terribly gifted in the arena of gear changes or tire pressure; and she's a vegetarian, for crying out loud, on a sheep farm (who after the sheep-shearing incident, incidentally, is probably off of the wool as well). In short, I'm having an absolute ball here. I hope to get you a couple photos of the farm (and my pack of dogs) soon.

And Whither Then? I Cannot Say

So after all the wonderful photos and countless days of joy, tears (mostly mine), and silliness (of the most meaningful sort), the era of the Road Trip has officially come to a close. Tommy and I dropped off Devon and Ross at a (remote and unbelievably gorgeous) WWOOF farm in the Marlborough Sounds, where we sang one last round of "The Four Best Friends" in front of a herd of sheep. And then, unexpectedly, I dropped off Tommy at the Picton ferry terminal so that he could start a long, difficult journey back to the States for his grandfather's funeral. Lights up on me, alone in the Sounds, the lone driver of our car, the sole guardian of our fuel canisters and musty cooler bag. When life decides it's time for you to make a change, it's not always a gentle process.

It's always surprising how quickly a travel experience, even of the least stable sort, begins to feel like your one and only "real life." Leaving Devon and Ross felt like The Band breaking up or your kids leaving home, and when I said goodbye to Tommy I told him to come home soon. You may well ask: by "come home" do I mean leave his family and his hometown and come back to a foreign country where we live out of a car...to meet me at a farm that neither of us has ever seen before? Yes. Strange as it sounds, that's actually what I mean. And I know when I see him coming up the driveway, that's exactly how it's going to feel.

But now, for a short time, home is just me. It's a butterflies-in-the-stomach kind of feeling. I have five days to myself, then a journey to our first WWOOF stay near Kaikoura, which I'll be starting solo, and then Tommy will be back in about a week and a half. Not a ton of time, really, but with all the changes in the air it feels very new and unknown.

There's a new chapter heading on this next page of the story, I think, but I don't get to read what it is right away. You have to listen slowly and carefully. You look for clues. And no use trying to guess early - you have to let the story reveal itself to you in its own sweet time, or you risk not hearing everything it has to say. It's sounds a little mystical and zany, but that's the best I can do for you right now. It's time to set out on the next leg of the adventure.

Pursuing It With Eager Feet

And now the grand photo finale: the second half of our 4 Best Friends Road Trip, and the end of an era, it feels like, down here in New Zealand. These pictures span the waning weeks with all four of us together in Bilbo Wagons (our new name for our trooper of a car), and remind me of everything I've loved and learned from traveling with these cats. (More on that in my next update...)

Wine Tasting

West Coast

Eating out at an organic garden/pizza joint in the town of Ross

Or eating in over the camp stove

Jumping out of planes

It's been a good ride

And I Must Follow If I Can

Interlude: Rees-Dart Tramp


Day 1: 16.5 km, 3 mountain streams, 1 magical forest, 18 disbelieving muscles, 2 completely mud-saturated hiking shoes, 4 exhausted but very happy trampers



Day 2: 15 km, 1 saddle crossing, 3 fit and ready warriors and 1 totally exhausted tramper (yours truly), countless top-notch mountain vistas

Day 3: 15 km, scattered showers in the Misty Mountains, 1 golden field through Rohan, 8 sore feet, 3 blisters, 3,574 sandflies at the end of the day

Day 4: 16.5 km, unrelenting downpour = wet tents, soaking clothing, rising creek levels = getting a late start and sprinting to catch the shuttle bus out = 3 hours of pretending to be chasing orcs to keep my feet moving, followed by a warm night of hot tub, pizza, and beer

The Road Goes Ever On and On

Internet ain't cheap here in Middle Earth, so consider this the first installment of road trip photos. No plans, no reservations, just following the clues and enjoying the ride.

Mt. Cook

Nugget Point

Beach Time

Fiordland

Staying in Shape


Setting Up Camp

To be continued...