YouTube Channel!

Hey, I know I usually do a nice long story on Thursdays but today I was busy… Busy starting a YouTube Channel for the few videos I have and for all the videos to come! Come check out my channel HERE and the latest video HERE don’t forget to like, share, subscribe, and comment.
For those of you who have been reading along to my previous posts you will see the truck from “Unnamed Lakes” mountains from “One Does Not Simply Walk Into Tongariro” scenery from “Fiji Time” and even a bit of “Crypt Lake“. This video as well as a few others I will post, are from a time when the idea of a blog or a YouTube channel were just a day dream that I didn’t take seriously. On this new channel I have also put up the old video I posted called “Pike On The Fly“.

 


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One Does Not Simply Walk Into Tongariro

All of you who know me are likely getting tired of my New Zealand stories. That said I’m sure a few of my readers (OK maybe two or three) haven’t heard this one yet.

As I have stated earlier, in the spring of 2011 I found myself in New Zealand. Before my trip I had never really done much hiking, in fact the only real hiking I did previously would be more accurately described as a drunken stumble home from the bar… Either way hydration was still a factor. While I was preparing for my trip I was informed of just how important good footwear is. I originally intended to just pack along some slip on skateboarding shoes, since hiking shoes in size 14 are hard to find and a bit on the expensive side. I was luckily persuaded to stop being so cheap and just buy a pair. They proved to come in very handy.

Once I arrived in NZ I was informed that we were going to do the Tongariro Alpine Crossing needless to say I was not exactly excited to do a 20 km hike. I was persuaded when Erin told me that the national park was used as the setting of Mordor in the Lord of the Rings movies. Also I’m not a particularly smart man but, I know better than to say no to a woman when we’re on vacation.

We first went to the town of Taupo, got a hostel and got settled in. It was a nice place, big kitchen, sauna, private room, and central heating. I had to laugh that the worker at the hostel felt the need to explain central heating to two Canadians “hot air come out of these holes in the floor, so don’t cover them”  “tell me more about your magic Mr. Wizardman” I though in my head, but I’m Canadian so I just listened patiently, nodded and said “thank you.”

The next morning we jumped on an early morning bus which took us out to the trail head. Our journey began and naturally, as per usual, I had a wicked stomach ache, I was glad to find that there was a washroom at the trail head.

Ok so its not 20km but very close

The first bit of trail resembled the prairies with which I am very familiar, however this was a bit rockier and had an amazing view of the mountains. We reached the edge of the first mountain and before the climb began I spotted another washroom… bonus… no wait that’s a no go on the bonus, they were out of toilet paper. I opted to wait for the next washroom since I like my socks and my bandanna a little too much.

View from the top of the first climb

Of course we did some more uphill climbing until we reached a plateau where the trail separated: one way was to continue to trail to the end, the other was to climb to the top of Mt. Ngauruhoe (also known as Mt. Doom for LOTR fans). Sadly given how long it had taken me and my out of shape body to get to this point, climbing to the top of a nearby mountain didn’t seem feasible. I would be lying if I said I didn’t occasionally lose sleep regretting not being able to see the top of Mt. Doom, maybe someday Ill get another chance. At the plateau there were a lot of people taking a break, grabbing a snack from packs, and taking photographs. Erin and I took a few pictures of ourselves until a kind stranger offered to take a photo for us. He snapped one, looked a it and said “wait let me try again” he did this a few times until he got one he was happy with. I am eternally grateful to this kind stranger because it got me this.

I can’t think of a photo I like more

We then continued along the plateau as it dipped down into a large geological dish as we approached the far side I saw a rather narrow uphill path covered with snow. I noticed something kinda funny, there were a lot of people struggling up the center of the path on the snow that had been trampled into ice and nearly no footprints on the light powder along the edges. As a woman slipped and struggled on the ice I walked past her and politely mentioned that the snow, despite being deeper, would be easier and safer. I felt kinda like a jerk offering tips to a grown woman but I get the impression she wasn’t too familiar with the dynamics of snow. The top of this portion of the trail rewarded us with a beautiful view of most of the trail.

Emerald lakes and seemingly endless mountain ranges

From here the trail continued as a snowy downhill path, I glanced at the snow-challenged hiker, then at Erin and decided to ride down on the snow as though I were tobogganing, at first I tried just sitting and going, and that worked well, but then I realized my backpack had a toboggan feature… the salesman never mentioned that and it sure worked well. Naturally everyone who saw assumed I was crazy, and who am I to say they’re wrong.

It was so fun I almost went back up to do it again

We then continued along another gentle flat portion toward yet another emerald coloured lake. Along the way something in the ground caught my eye, a funny looking white rock that just seemed out of place, naturally I picked it up, to my surprise it was actually a necklace. That’s right folks I found jewellery in Mordor! Its not a ring, but Ill still take it. Here’s a photo of it after I cleaned it off a bit.

My precious

We then found our way to the lake on the far side, me still talking about how cool it is to find a necklace. We opted to stop for some photos and some lunch.

This photo took more tries than you would think
Kind looks like a weatherman in front of a green screen
Ham sandwiches taste better at higher altitude (I might make that my new catch phrase)

Our hike now lead us downhill… about time I say! It lead us along a narrow mountain ledge where we encountered people doing to trek in the opposite direction, I’m told this takes longer and is harder to do. This led to a few slight traffic jams as the trail get a bit narrow at points, but everyone survived so that’s good.

Erin’s on the edge!

The path eventually led us to another set of bathrooms, that were again devoid of toilet paper… I now pack my own everywhere I hike for fear of repeating this event. We continued on our way and eventually the narrow mountain trail turned into what resembled a tropical rain forest… oh wait… is it actually a tropical rain forest in New Zealand? Ill look into that later. Either way there was a lot of vegetation and it was beautiful.

Nearly at the end, very encouraging
Here, let me open that for you

We eventually reached the end of the trail and I was “relieved” to find they had fully stocked washrooms.

          This is the first actual hike I had ever taken, especially one of this length. At the time I enjoyed it immensely but had no real appreciation or scope of how lucky I was to get a chance at this hike, many hikers, especially those in North America, would consider this a life’s dream, and here I was able to do it on a whim as a first time hiker. Even stranger, between my stomach ache and distance of the hike itself I nearly opted not to go, but Erin made me, and I’m certainly glad she did.
            The bus shuttled us all back to our respective hostels, Erin and I reheated some pasta from the night before and promptly passed out… I guess in some respects this hike was like my drunken hikes home from the bar, but I wont be telling those stories here. To my shock, luck and amazement the only thing that hurt the next day was my shins. Good thing too, since we had a lot more adventuring to do while we were there. Next up was caving in Waitomo, but that’s another long winded story for another time.

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Photo Drop Part 1 (Fiji Stuff)

I decided when I started this blog that I would post stories on Thursdays… if I have any. But lately I have been thinking maybe I should just post photos once in a while. So here’s my attempt at that, no long stories, just some photos I like and a short write up of what they are and why I like them.

I took this photo on Erin and I’s Fijian vacation. We arrived at our hotel after dark and nearly trampled a herd of these. I’m not sure if they are frogs or toads (sadly I don’t fully know the difference). I do know they are very docile and about the size of a computer mouse.

Keeping with the Fijian theme. The western style food in cheap hotels, hostels, and restaurants is typically not good. The easiest way I have found to describe it is to say “Its like they were shown pictures of western foods and are doing their best to duplicate it.” My favorite example of this was one hostel had a “Pizza night” which was normal pizza crust with ketchup, chopped carrots and celery all topped with cheese… The usual travel trick of coating food with cheese to make it taste better is brilliant except that I am lactose intolerant. Needless to say during our trip I was hungry and craving good food. At home I eat a lot of red meat, which is expensive and rare on a small tropical island. The photos you see here are of quite possibly the best meal I’ve ever eaten (it competes with my Fijian shore lunch which I have already blogged about). This meal took place in a remote village along the river that we arrived at via jet boat as part of a tour. We were not told there would be lunch served and I certainly did not expect it to contain some of the best tasting pork sausage you can imagine. I believe there was also fried coconut and tapioca… just imagine an extraordinarily delicious hash-brown.  The usual tasty fresh fruit was also included, but that sausage was the star of the day. It also made for some joking between Erin and I… Because of Fiji’s distant historical tradition of cannibalism that even our tour guides were often willing to joke about… Which I’ll admit was a bit unsettling at first.


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Fiji Time

            Following a chain of interesting and obscure events that I still don’t fully understand, my girlfriend and I found ourselves backpacking across Fiji in June of 2011. It’s a delightful little country filled with friendly people, all of whom can spot two tall white tourists a mile away and are often willing to try and sell them something. We spent most of our time on the main island traveling from town to town via the local bus system and taxis, both of which made me question whether or not Fiji has any form of automotive inspection standards before deeming them “road worthy” the only indication I had of which side of the road is the proper side to drive on was that the steering wheels are located on the right hand side.
            In the capital city of Suva we wandered the streets to the local markets and to the mall and along the way I saw inspiration. We passed a run down but well stocked fishing shop. I immediately went inside the store was poorly lit with flickering fluorescent bulbs and all the plastic packages had a healthy coating of dust on them. The whole store reminded me of that back corner of gas stations or hardware stores in small towns that have those few basic hooks displayed on cheap peg board and thoroughly coated in dust waiting for a passerby who has forgotten his lures at home or a small child who sees one he thinks will work, I vividly remember being such a child and suddenly felt like one again. I was surprised that most of the hooks on the shelves were the same as the ones I would use for freshwater at home. I guess I expected them to be a little more… exotic or something, but then again why mess with a classic? It was at this time that I decided I wanted to try fishing while I was there, however the workers in the shop were not able to guide me towards someone to take me. Perhaps that’s not a common request or it may have just been too great of a language barrier but, oh well, I was there for a few more weeks I was sure an opportunity would present itself eventually… hopefully… I would hate to come all this way and not go fishing while I was there. We then left the shop and found a movie theater and decided it had been a while since we had sat down and watched a movie especially on in a theater and it had air conditioning so it was not a hard sell. After the movie had ended I thought we were being kidnapped… Maybe I should explain… Allow me to explain…
            We went into the theater at about five pm and the movie ended around seven pm and Fiji being so close to the equator it gets dark at about six pm. Despite all the locals so far being friendly we were clearly out of place foreigners in a strange city, at night, so we opted to take a taxi back to our hostel, it was only about eight blocks away: four east and four north. We flagged down a taxi and jumped in, this particular cab was in some serious disrepair, I have driven some horrible cars in my life, I was a student for many years, but this one was making noises I had never heard before. We told him to take us to our hotel called “Coral Coast Hotels” or something along those lines, my memory of the name eludes me. The taxi took off with a broken exhaust rumble and screeched a u-turn now taking us west on the main road, I immediately start to panic but did not want to say anything because I was not fully sure what was going on, Erin at this time had not noticed we were going the wrong direction. Suddenly we were taken down a series of confusing back roads at high speeds while to driver talked furiously fast on his blue tooth head set in a language we don’t understand. It is at this point I started to look for a soft piece of ditch to bail out onto and pull Erin with me but sadly it seems the whole city was paved. Eventually the car slammed to a halt as my nervous perspiration soaked the seat below me and thinking of it now that seat was kind of gross to begin with… The dust settled in the glow of the headlights and the driver turned around to see a terrified look on my face for a split second before I saw the sign reading “Coral Coast Apartments” I was quite relieved to say the least. I explained the confusion. The driver then laughed and drove off like a madman to our hostel, I guess that’s just how he drives and I’m just a little paranoid.            Later in our trip we decided to spend some time on a small hostel on the island of Nananu-I-Ra. To get there we were dropped off on the main road to walk a few kilometers with all our gear down a scenic gravel road lined with sugar cane fields. Naturally I “enthused” Erin with my “impressive” knowledge of sugar farming’s impact on history. We eventually arrived at the end of a road at a little marina, where no one knew who we were or why we were there, but many people offered to drive us out to the island, we opted to wait for the hostels boat to come to us just to be slightly safer. Eventually they got there to pick us up. I feel it is important to mention that in Fiji they have an expression “Fiji time.” And it seems it can only be said with a smile, and it refers to the idea that no one in Fiji really takes the concept of time too seriously, it was both refreshing and a little frustrating. Our mode of transportation arrived in the form a small and questionable boat to take us 1.5kms across what I would consider open ocean, although an experience sea farer might not consider it that. We arrived at one of only two resorts on the island and were greeted by a few staff members who informed us that there weren’t enough guests to justify opening the kitchen. In fact we were

I wonder what it’s story is

the only guests at the aged hotel and to my knowledge that was the last we really saw of the staff. Believe me when I tell you very few things feel as creepy and haunted as being seemingly the only people at an island hotel. Luckily we brought our own food with us for just such an instance. On our way to the room I noticed a large amount of what my prairie eyes recognized as gopher holes, I immediately realized how unrealistic it was that there would be gophers on a secluded Fijian island. The next morning after an evening of tourists vs. a rather large cockroach, I found myself awake before Erin. I stood quietly looking out the window in amazement, there were dozens of ghostly white crabs coming out of the holes in the ground, and they were skittish, as soon as I would make the slightest noise they were gone. We then went about walking and exploring on the island, mainly to look for other people or signs of life on the island. We made our way to the other hotel and found there was a group of about five Germans and that’s about it. We then got down to the reason we came there, the guide book had told us of great scuba diving and only one scuba guide named Papoo. We gave him a call and he agreed to meet us the next day at 8 am at our hotels dock, we promptly spent the rest of the day basking in the warm sun and further exploring the nearly deserted island.

            Papoo arrived the promptly at 8:47am the next morning. He arrived in an aged white boat with a sporty red stripe down the side. Papoo was a large man not as tall as me but certainly tall for a Fijian and appeared quite well fed compared to the other locals I had seen so far, he had a broad friendly smile
Waiting for the boat

boasting bright white teeth and long frizzy hair in a bit of a natural afro, and he certainly was talkative, loud, and friendly, I liked him immediately. He was accompanied by his wife and young son. The plan was simple, he was going to teach me to scuba dive briefly and give Erin a refresher course at the same time as it had been a while since her scuba certification. He took us to a nice sloped beach with a short stone retaining wall holding back lush green grass, atop this grass were various huts clearly modern and a bit of a hotel gimmick which is often seen in this part of the world. The resort in front of us had been shut down for a few years according to Papoo. He explained the basic in and outs of scuba and had us suited up and swimming in no time. We swam for maybe 15 or 20 minutes but it was amazing to see such a colourful array of fish around the seaweed and across the clean sand. We were

Erin beside Papoo’s boat

then give snacks, the food around Fiji I found was not particularly good but, this was amazing and just what I needed; digestive cookies and a cool chocolate flavored drink, it reminded me almost of a chocolate version of iced tea, it was far better tasting that what you are imagining right now trust me, and it was just what I needed at the time. He drove us slowly back towards our resort while we discussed to possibility of a longer deeper dive the following day. It was during this time that I noticed a large classic red and white Rapala in the cup holder of his boat, Papoo just went up another notch in my book. I immediately asked him if the fishing was good and if he would be willing to take us out. He naturally jumped at the idea, as did I. He offered us a reasonably priced package deal for a dive and an afternoon of fishing for the following day. We accepted and he dropped us off at our dock and said he would be back at eight am the following day to take us out for our adventure. Much like a child on Christmas Eve, I did not sleep much that night.

            The next morning Papoo arrived at 8:25am and our day began. He drove the boat to the edge of the reef where his son jumped out and after some searching tethered the boat to a hook sunk in the reef, I didn’t see much for landmarks or GPS on the boat so I’m not really sure how he found that spot. We then got suited up and he explained that I would fall backwards off the side of the boat and he and Erin would meet me in the water, I really didn’t want to go first but I wasn’t about to look like a sissy in front of him or Erin so I rolled in what can only be described as poor form and waited for what felt like a long time. Naturally in my youth I had seen the film JAWS far too many times and was not super comfortable with swimming in the ocean but I did my best to remain calm. Eventually Erin and Papoo were in the water too. He signaled and we began our descent along the edge of the reef. I don’t know how far down we went but it felt like it took a long time. This moment marks one of the most terrifying and surreal moments of my life, the three of us were spaced far enough apart that I couldn’t see them, as I did not have my glasses on. As I slowly descended, there was a solid cliff wall behind me and it stretched as far as I could see in every direction, including up. Ahead of me was the open ocean, a seemingly endless abyss of empty blue space it’s hard to put into words but I felt trapped in a sense that I could go as far as I want in any direction and not go anywhere almost like purgatory. Eventually we reached a nice sandy bottom I never thought I would be relieved to be at the bottom of an ocean but it happened. We then swam through an opening in the reef and found ourselves in a beautiful abyss of sea life comprised of plants and fish of the most beautiful colours. We made our way around the reef in what I hope and assume was a route planned by Papoo that led us through some long, dark, and what I found to be frightening caves that you would have a hard time fitting a modern television through. Along the way Papoo would point out fish and make gestures to us to ensure we were ok and not running out of air, I kept a very close eye on my air pressure gauge. As all was well with our gear we gave him the thumbs up. Papoo replied with a slow broad clapping of his hands with his fingers wide apart, he
Me with a barracuda

then interlocked his fingers and rested them on his stomach and gracefully swam powered by his feet, even with a respirator on him I could see his smirk, this was a man who was completely content at that moment in his life. In a path my mind could not grasp we eventually made our way back to the boat with what I consider to be the experience of a lifetime behind us in the reef. Now it was time to do what I wanted. Our guide pulled out two stout rods with sizable crank bait lures on them. We began trolling along the edge of the reef making full use of all 85hp the engine had. It seemed to me that we were going pretty fast for catching fish but I have never fished salt water before. Sure enough within minutes of setting out I had a fish on the line. The heavy rod bent ever so slightly and I could feel the fight on the other end of the line I reeled and reeled the fight felt like a large and angry northern pike, a species with which I am very familiar. I eventually brought in a long, thin, sleek and silver fish with long narrow crooked teeth that resembled tooth picks. The

guide then informed me of the obvious, this was a small barracuda, I was ecstatic. We then began trolling again and Erin was now on deck for the next catch, we trolled for what felt like an eternity. The whole way Papoo was laughing and yelling something along the lines of “COME ON! WE NEED A TUNA!” eventually we hooked something and I felt the boat slow down. The engines were shut off, Erin was handed the rod and we were going live! That poor girl could barely spin the reel, it was the strangest sight to me, and she’s not a weak woman by any means. After a few minutes of giving it all she

Me with foul hooked silver trevally
had Papoo started to help… and then eventually took over… and then handed the rod to me. I sat on the side of the boat and propped by feet against the back and started reeling. I would lean back as hard as I could and quickly reel in the slack as I leaned forward, this is to this day hands down the hardest fight I have ever gotten from a fish, for a few minutes I was sure I hooked the reef or was about to pull the drain plug out of the pacific ocean. Eventually I saw a small fin break the surface of the ocean. I was relieved to see that I was pulling in a fish and not an old sunken boat. I eventually brought the fish to the boat and Papoo was kind enough to lift it in for me. I saw on the end of my line a large tall-bodied fish with a hook stuck in its side. Both the shape of the fish and the foul hooking contributed to the difficulty in pulling in the fish. Papoo was kind enough to explain as I am very unfamiliar with the fish of the area, and based on how many types I had seen scuba diving, I question if anyone could know even half of them. I was told it was a silver trevally.

 Our fishing time was now over but Papoo with

Lunch being cooked

classic Fijian hospitality invited us to lunch. With great curiosity I agreed. Our guide then brought the boat back to the abandoned resort where we had our scuba lessons the day before. Papoo, his wife, and his son promptly began gathering twigs, sticks, branches. They then built a small fire and tossed the silver trevally on top.  Once it looked nice and burnt on the outside it was placed onto some large leaves and set on a conveniently left behind picnic table. Coconuts were cracked open and we were shown how to eat lunch “Fiji style” simply rip a piece of fish off the side dunk it in the coconut milk and

Best shore lunch I have ever had

enjoy, or for added fun put some fish on a piece of coconut rind and enjoy. Despite looking a little burnt the fish was cooked to perfection on the inside and I still consider this one of the best meals of my life, based on the taste, the scenery, and the company.

 

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Welcome

Hey! My name is Tyson Sommerville. I’ve created this blog to share my love of the outdoors. I will be posting hunting, fishing, hiking, and travel photos, stories, and some videos for you all to enjoy. Please feel free to comment with suggestions and questions and if you enjoy it share it with your friends, otherwise it’ll just be my mom who follows my blog… Hi Mom!


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