Scooting around Northern Vietnam

I landed in Hanoi, Vietnam on August 1st, where I met up with my old Ski Team friend Kristin Bersani IN customs. Literally. We hugged in front of the visa approval desk, to the stares of the whole room (little did I know this was the first of many times an entire room full of eyes would be following me over the next month). 

Bersani had been traveling Thailand, Laos and Cambodia the last few months and saw my Insta posts, so we connected and decided to meet up for the first few days in Vietnam before I met up with my cousin Matt and his buddies. Bersani (B-san for short) and I embarked upon our first Vietnam experiences together and it was pretty epic to have someone to share the madness of Hanoi with. 

Our first night we made a bee-line for traditional Vietnamese Pho (pronounced phuh) and had a few beers on the rooftop of Flipside hostel. Did you know that Phi is actually a breakfast meal to Vietnamese people? We’ve been living a lie in the USA! Anywho, the next morning we were picked up by a bus to head towards Ha Long Bay. As we boarded, the tour guide told us conspiratorially that we were upgraded from the 2-star boat to the 4 star boat, but to keep it to ourselves so as not to make the other tourists jealous. SCORE! 

After a bumpy 3 hour bus ride, we got to the docks where all the massive boats leave to take tourists out to Ha Long Bay. As the small ferry boat got us closer to our waiting cruise boat, the crew began pounding a drum, adding to the excited atmosphere aboard our little dingy. The boat, Royal Palace, was a gorgeous old wooden cruise ship with intricate carvings inside and out. Check out the pics below. 

The other travelers were a merry bunch. We had four other Americans aboard, two rambunctious women from Texas and a young couple from NYC, as well as an incredibly friendly Canadian (more about him later), a Brit girl, four Colombians, some Kiwis, and an odd set of Dutch guys with Vietnamese “girlfriends”. To no ones surprise, after a long, overly-choreographed day of kayaking, swimming, and hiking, the 6 Americans were the only ones singing Karaoke late into the night aboard the ship. Things got strange when someone found the traditional Vietnamese costumes in a closet…

The next day, Gary (the Canadian), BSAN and I were transported from the boat to a tiny island deep in Ha Long Bay. We went kayaking right before sunset and partied with some Scottish friends in bungalows on the beach. The next day we nursed our hangovers back aboard the Royal Palace as it drove through an incredible rainstorm back to the docks. I felt like as I was in a movie as the massive mountains loomed out of the misty rain when we passed. 

I spent 5 hours on a boat, 3 hours on a bus back to Hanoi, and met up with my cousin Matt and his buddies Brock and Trevor, only to get on another overnight bus for 6 hours. Fortunately, Matt and crew had picked up what came to be our signature uniforms for the next 10 days - MATCHING BANANA SHIRTS!!!

The Banana Boys Adventure

We arrived in Ha Giang at 4am, went to sleep at QTs Hostel, then picked up our motorcycles from QTs Motorbikes first thing in the morning. QT has things dialed in and offers an incredibly professional service in this region. In fact, while we were checking in he got a call from another group who had had an accident, and he proceeded to send out people to pick up the damaged bike and escort the group to the hospital in order to be the translator and ensure they got all the care they needed. Now THAT’S service. 

QT spoke plenty of English and had us set up and ready to rock within a few minutes. He was over the moon that we were wearing matching banana shirts and took a bunch of pics with us. He posted these on his FB and Instagram, and we became celebrities throughout northern Vietnam when all the other tour and hostel owners saw us, recognizing us from his posts. We brought in a cool 200 likes within a few hours. Talk about an influencer. 

I was a little apprehensive about hopping on a motorcycle after only a few weeks of real riding under my belt, but the moment I cranked up to 4th gear on the way out of town I knew it was the only way to travel. We scooted up in to the hills, heading north. Within an hour I was absolutely spellbound by the sights, which is pretty dangerous as a newbie on a motorcycle on tiny one lane roads. We probably stopped every 5 minutes to take pictures because this road was INCREDIBLE. I don’t use the word spectacular lightly, but that’s simply the only way to describe it. 

When you’re on a motorcycle, you can’t help but be insanely immersed in the scenery around you. You have to be in order to avoid potholes, chickens, falling rocks, cows, dogs, kids, and crazy Vietnamese drivers in all sorts of vehicles. This heightened level of awareness makes you really experience a road trip in a whole new way. In a car it’s easy to zone out a bit, but on a bike you can’t do that for a single second. 

The first day was a dizzying rollercoaster of sights, sounds, and smells. We were in a rural part of Vietnam where they see very few westerners, so when 4 guys on big motorcycles wearing banana shirts roll through, the ENTIRE town stops to watch. At first we thought we were getting mean stares, but quickly discovered that when you smile and wave, the Vietnamese folks immediately crack up, smile, and wave back enthusiastically. 

We finally arrived at our riverside hostel in Du Gia as the sun was going down. To cap off an absolutely epic day, we all went down and showered in the river, mountains sprouting up around us. It was surreal. 

The next day was equally epic, fortunately this time I had my camera on my hip so I could take photos. The one above is my cousin Matt’s, cause he was smart enough to have his camera readily available on the first day. 

We cruised up north to a larger town the 2nd night, Dong Van. It’s very close to the Chinese border, so after dropping our bags at the hotel we zoomed up to the furthest point we could reach. A massive observation tower was constructed here, and we could see in to China from the top. It was a pretty impressive sight. 

That night we got a little rowdy. Spurred on by the popularity of our Banana shirts, we found our way to a family karaoke establishment. We managed to take turns with the locals, one Vietnamese song then one English song (maybe two). The echoes of our singing found their way back to our hotel, where the manager said we sounded great. 

Next morning we began the trek to Bao Lac. We went through yet another incredible mountain pass, through Meo Vac. We had rain pretty much the entire day, which made riding tricky, slow, and nerve-wracking, but we made it in one piece (mostly). 

Despite our best efforts to make it otherwise, this town was a little sleepier than Dong Van. We still had a good time trying some local food and chatting with the manager of our hotel. 

From there, we made our way to Cao Bang, one of the furthest northeast points of Vietnam. It was to act as our springboard to get to Ban Gioc waterfall. When we first arrived in Cao Bang, we didn’t have a hotel planned out. We stopped in a park and began scouring Trip Advisor. While we were doing this, a 14 year old kid came up and asked if we needed help. He told us where the nicer hotel was, just around the corner, in pretty darn good English considering what we’d been hearing recently. His advice was spot on- a nice hotel that had 4 twin beds in a single room and a balcony overlooking the river - SCORE!

As we were unpacking and showering, we heard a knock on the door. It was the same kid from the garden who had given us the recommendation. Totally confused as to why he was here, we let him in. After he shyly chatted with us a bit, we realized he just wanted to hang out and practice his English. His real name was Mowvin or something, but he wanted us to give him an American name, so we called him Mike. 

It was super fun to talk to Mike and ask him about his life in Cao Bang. Most Vietnamese kids never get the chance to leave the country, so he was equally as fascinated by us as we were by him. He chilled with us for about an hour and a half, when it got dark and he knew he needed to be home. 

That night, thanks to a new friend we made on Tinder, we found our way to the most happening club in town on a Tuesday night. When we walked in (Banana shirts ablaze, of course), we were a bit overwhelmed by the pounding electronic music. Fortunately, this is also when we discovered that Nitrous balloons are not only legal in Vietnam, but sold at the bar for the same price as a Heineken. After a few huffs from the massive balloon, the electronic music was downright pleasant. We were celebrities in the bar that night thanks to our matching attire and skin color. We starred in at least 7 Facebook Live videos.

The next day was dedicated to reaching Ban Gioc Waterfall, a 180km ride from Cao Bang. This road differed from everything else we had ridden in that it had TWO LANES! This was a first for us. Nothing like extra room to make extra big turns!! The scenery was incredible and we pushed our bikes faster than we had all trip. 

Before we reached the waterfall, we made a quick stop at the Buddhist temple that overlooked it. I actually liked visiting this temple more than the waterfall. It was serene, quiet, and we were the only people there. I snapped a few glamour photos of the boys in the amazing setting. 

At the waterfall, Matt made friends with a Vietnamese guy who was traveling with a group of friends from Saigon. They invited us to join them for a picnic at the base of the waterfall. This ended up being SO awesome. Not only did they insist on sharing very good food with us, but they taught us all sorts of cool stuff, including how to Cheers in Vietnamese. We did at least 3 rounds of shots of rice wine before stumbling (a bit) back to our bikes to ride back to Cao Bang. 

Unfortunately, something I ate that afternoon did not agree with me, and I was bed ridden with horrible stomach pains that night. Matt, Brock, and Trevor went out with our new Vietnamese friends though, and I’m totally jealous with the amount of fun they had while I ate bread and drank water.

I felt much better the next day as we sailed out of Cao Bang, onwards to Ba Be National Park. This was another beautiful ride, culminating in a very fun cruise through the national park itself. We had our first water hazard to deal with, but luckily our Yamaha’s took it in stride. It was super fun to be riding a motorcycle without shoes, toes skimming the water. 

The next day we had a whopping 260km to tackle in order to get back to Ha Giang to return our bikes. Every other day we had done maximum 180km, so we knew this would be a rough one. We started off by taking one of the boats across the lake instead of riding around it. While this may not have been faster than just riding the road, it sure as hell was more fun. 

Fortunately the roads were, once again, in great condition. We may have gone 30km out of the way in the morning, but we’ll chalk it up as just part of the adventure. We took our time, taking a few landscape pictures and making sure I got some badass riding shots of the boys. 

The last 60km was on busy highway, at NIGHT. This leg was probablythe most dangerous and scary part of the whole trip, with buses and cars flying past us while we dodged other scooters who may or may not have their lights on. NO LIGHTS! At night. On a small road. Crazy shit, Vietnam. 

We dropped off the bikes with QT and hopped aboard another night bus back to Hanoi. These buses are not comfortable in any way but they sure are convenient. We arrived at Central Hanoi Backpackers in the wee hours and got some real sleep. The last day in Hanoi we toured a few of the sights and geared ourselves up for a big night out for Trevor’s birthday. We wore the banana shirts one last time and joined on the hostel’s bar crawl. As you can see by Trevor’s face below, we had ourselves a thumpin good time. 

Gotta give a shoutout to my cousin Matt for organizing this whole trip. Riding bikes in Northern Vietnam has been his dream for awhile, and he put together an incredible itinerary so we could all experience this place together. Here’s him takin' care of business and looking good doing it.  

Thanks for an incredible trip, Matt!! 

Keegan out. 

Mr. Splashyfins and Steampunk - Adios NZ!

Holy cow...my time in NZ has come to an end. I’m penning this final NZ post from the same place I’ve written all my posts- A bar with lots of craft beer. (actually, I started this in that bar and finishing it in the states...more on that in future posts).

I’ve gotta start this post by rolling back the clock a bit to the end of May, where I last left you, dear reader. I drove down to old Oamaru all the way from Blenheim, however I couldn’t resist making a pitstop in Kaikoura, the coastal town that was heavily isolated after an earthquake took out the main road in November. The reason for pilgrammaging all the way to this remote spot? Dolphins. The splashy kind. 

I arrived in Kaikoura in the afternoon, and made a bee-line in my car to the furthest point I could reach on the peninsula. I had been driving for 6 hours, and desperately needed to move my legs, so I went up the hill and began running along the top of the gorgeous peninsula. I didn’t really know where I was going, but I felt like running (that sentence should be read in a Forrest Gump voice). Somehow I ended up in some farmland, face to face with a particularly aggressive cow. I didn’t have an angle to see if it was a lady or gentleman cow, but it wasn’t happy that I was there. After a few minutes of a standoff, I had to climb a fence overhanging the cliff, edge around, and hop back in once the heifer was out of trampling range. Here is the accosting bovine in question: 

I found my way on the other side of the peninsula as it was growing dark, so what was supposed to be a quick 3-4 miles turned in to 6.5. Oh well, it felt great and I slept like a baby in my empty hostel that night. 

The next morning I awoke super excited. I was gonna splash around with the silver kings of the ocean- dolphins! The earthquake that hit Kaikoura 6 months prior had lifted the ground almost a meter, and all of the docks and embankments were destroyed. In order to stay in business, they had us climb aboard the boat while it was up on a trailer, on land, and then lightly deposited us off the boat ramp in to the harbor. Crazy stuff. 

We buzzed out of the bay amidst clouds and fog, but no matter, the sun came to the rescue soon enough. We cruised for about 45 minutes before we had our first Flipper sighting. Then another. And finally, the Captain tooted the horn to signal that it was time to get in to the water. 

Unfortunately, my trusty GoPro decided to have a CARD ERROR 30 seconds before I jumped in the water, so I have absolutely no underwater photos of what transpired in the water. Just trust me, it was epic. 

The funny thing about swimming with wild dolphins is that it’s more of them investigating you than you investigating them. In order to get their attention, you have to make yourself worthy of their eyeballs. This means making movements and, especially, sounds, that will intrigue them. I needed no further motivation to make the weirdest, squeakiest, dolphiniest sounds I could muster in to my snorkel. 

IT WORKED. Combined with my seal-like dives, each time the boat stopped I had dolphins circling around me, eager to get a good look at the Star-Wars humming, manatee-resembling Keegaphin. It was so fricken cool. There was one fella in particular (Mr. Splashyfins) who slowed down wayyy more than the others, circling me so that I could keep up spinning around with him. We made eye contact for about 10 seconds, which felt like an eternity of connection between man and animal. I had chills and the all-too-familier Trail Chuckles as I got out of the water, grinning ear to ear. 

This experience made the 2 hour detour very much worth it. That afternoon I sped down to Christchurch and stayed at the very hostel where I had started my journey exactly 1 month before. I’d done a complete circuit of the South Island. Neat! 

Oamaru Steampunk Festival

I made it to Oamaru nice and early to meet up with my friend, Shantel, at Steampunk HQ (the local steampunk museum exhibit where she works). We did another photoshoot, this time focused on new shots of all the merchandise for the gift shop to be used online. We were the models, naturally, and I’m happy with how the shots turned out (can you say new prof pic?!). 

The primary reason I was in Oamaru was to be the volunteer photographer for the Steampunk Festival of New Zealand, the largest Steampunk festival in the Southern Hemisphere. If you don’t know what Steampunk is, check this out. I offered to shoot the event for free for the photography experience and the opportunity to be a part of a fascinating aspect of New Zealand culture. 

La Falconesse, or Lady Helen Steampunk, was the lead on the event, and it was her I reported to. She gave me access to the whole event, and we discussed a whole list of events and key moments she’d love to have photos of. I was psyched. 

The first event was the Vaudeville after party, basically a Victorian/Steampunk talent show full of costumed performers and audience. In fact, there wasn’t a moment all weekend where I didn’t see someone dressed to the nines in their steamy finest. 

The next day held two very interesting events- the Tea Duel and Teapot Racing. A tea duel, I learned, is a classic English game where two people compete over who’s biscuit will crumble last after being dunked in a cup of tea. As the tea-soaked biscuit begins to wilt, it’s falling trajectory is either called a Splash, Splatter, or Splodge. Extensive Tea Duel rules can be foundHERE. http://unlacethevictorians.blogspot.co.nz/2012/04/art-of-tea-dueling.html 

I plan on bringing an adaptation of this back to the states, just need to find something that can be dunked in to some Zuni Street beer… 

The most hilarious of all the events on the weekend was Splendid Teapot Racing. Remote Control cars, all in some way converted to a teapot, navigate an obstacle course surrounded by an eager crowd for their chance at glory. Some failed miserably, others triumphed spectacularly, but everyone had a great time.

Saturday evening was a 250 person murder mystery party. Hilarity ensued. Sunday was the Fashion Show, where the community showed off their most elaborate, innovative, and creative Steampunk Fashion. I was blown away by some of the costumes, these folks went all out. 

Sunday evening was the closing Gala, a massive party where I tried out an external flash for the first time. It took me awhile to get the hang of it, but once I did I was fairly pleased with how my images came out. 

It was a totally exhausting weekend, but I learned a TON about shooting as a professional and had an absolute blast with those wonderfully wacky Steampunkers. 

To the North Island! 

My month and a half in NZ was drawing to a close very quickly, so I drove for 2 days from Oamaru (on the South Island) to Taupo (in the middle of the north). I drove about 1,200 kilometers in 48 hours, not including the distance covered on the inter-island ferry. 

I was once again blessed with ridiculously nice weather, which gave me the perfect window to do the fabled Tongariro Alpine Crossing. It was crisp and cold and clear skies all around, and I was in my element. The most famous feature of this 17km hike is, of course, Mount Doom from Lord of the Rings. It surges forth out of the ground with streaks of red and small steam spurts around the top. 

My van from the hostel was one of the first there, so I sped ahead of the crowds and had the trails to myself for the first few hours. This proved to be very clutch, as everyone and their mother was doing the crossing that day. I had some blissful time filled with Trail Chuckles before I had to start dodging other tourists. 

As I waited for the bus to take me back to the hostel, I befriended a few folks- Hannah the Brit, Brandon from Tennessee, and Jamie the German. We decided to meet up later that night in Taupo for beers and, ultimately, late night hot springs exploration. My headache the next morning was directly proportional to the amount of fun had. There may have been late night Big Macs involved….

My final stop in NZ was Rotorua. A town situated on top of a volcanic area, so every 12 feet there is a hot spring. The entire city smells like sulfur, making it super easy to disguise my farts. Always a silver lining. 

I met up with my friend Amber, who I had met wayyy back in Dunedin. It was awesome to catch up and hear about the way she had tackled her travels as well. 

En route to Auckland I couldn’t help myself and I stopped by the one and only Hobbitton. I was giddy as a small child on Christmas, asking the tour guide questions and making dorky references. Fortunately, to work there you gotta be a big fan so she was right there with me. The level of detail in this place is UNREAL. They rebuilt all of Hobbitton for the Hobbit series, so everything is movie quality, up to the real vegetables growing in the gardens. 

The big highlight was singing the Green Dragon drinking song IN the Green Dragon, behind the bar, with a specially crafted pale ale that’s only served on site. EEEEE!! 

All too quickly, my New Zealand travels had come to an end. I could’ve easily stayed another month, but, alas, Australia was calling my name, and I had to answer. 

Stay tuned for my next post about Australia with special guest Tim Slatts! 

Toodles. -K

Bungie, Glide, Swing, and Dive - Adrenaline and stuff.

I know it's bee a while since I've posted, so this puppy has all sorts of gems built up. Woo! 

Queenstown sure lived up to it’s reputation. Had a helluva good time there. Made a bundle of new friends, ran in to some old ones, and did all of the big adrenaline pumping activities that they’re known for. 

Since Queenstown has the reputation for being the adrenaline-fueled party capital of NZ, I decided to google “party hostels” upon my arrival in town to find a place to stay. I came upon Nomads, highly rated for it’s clean amenities and friendly staff. It was indeed clean, but I quickly realized that’s cause this place is a well-oiled machine meant to take in and turn out hundreds of travelers every week. I’ve been staying in all sorts of small, sometimes family owned and operated places for the last 3 weeks, so this was a big change of pace.

It wasn’t all bad, but it was filled with masses of 18-year old Brits straight off the Kiwi Bus who are scared to look up from their phones in the common rooms to carry on a conversation. The folks in my 8 bed dorm were friendly-ish at first, but as the Saturday night heated up they turned cold and clique-y. Meh, not for me. I made friends with a mustachiod Aussie named Jack and we hit the town. After 5 different bars each in increasing stages of wildness, I stumbled home to sleep. 

The next morning I exited the hostel as fast as humanly possible to find coffee and bacon. On the way, I walked past the information center I had visited the day before. Today however, it was staffed by two girls who were quite easy on the eyes. I shuffled in, pre coffee, to get a proper adventure consultation from Queenstown’s finest. When I left, I had appointments to paraglide, bungy jump and hit the worlds largest swing. I’m such a sucker for a cute salesgirl. 

Paragliding was pretty much everything I could have dreamed, and I’ve had a TON of flying dreams in my day. I soared off the top of the mountain strapped to Brendan, and I couldn’t kick the shit-eating grin off my face until 10 minutes after we landed. If you haven’t tried it, I can’t suggest it enough. It’s peaceful and calm and adrenaline pumping all at the same time. 

I didn’t think it was possible, but the Bungy Jump was even cooler. The Nevis Bungy is the highest in NZ, 137 meter drop over the river from a raised platform. 

As you ride this little gondola out to the platform the first time, it’s pretty much silent. Everyone is scared shitless of what they’re about to do, and the smiles are nervous and tense. After the jump however, it’s easy to become fast friends.

And make friends I did, with an Australian named Jay from Melbourne. We agreed that we HAD to do the bungie again. We also agreed that the Swing would be even cooler if we went together, thereby doubling our mass and, most importantly, our speed. It worked. 

On the 2nd bungy jump, I noticed another ‘Murican accent in the skybox. It was Meg, a Minnessotan on holiday for a few weeks in NZ. She, Jay and I agreed to meet up later for burgers and beers at the famous FergBurger in town. 

This was my 2nd Ferg encounter, the first one having left me feeling like a bear shot in the ass with a tranquilizer dart. The burgers are pretty unreal, and hold their own against the likes of Smash Burger, Shake Shack, and InNOut. They do NOT however, topple that Mighty Burger Barron, Au Cheval. 

While smashing meat in to my face at Fergburger, I ran in to more people I knew! Kevin and Roger (can’t actually remember his name), both (almost) doctors from California who were in my hostel in Te Anau. And then, most incredibly, the Hut Warden, Abbey, from Mount Luxmore who we drank Jameson with during the Kepler Track showed up as well. She had gotten off the mountain THAT DAY and was getting her Ferg Fix like the rest of us.

Abbae shout out

With the addition of my trekking friends Finn and Jakob, we had quite the drinking squad that evening, eight of us in total. The California Docs dubbed me “the most popular dude in Queenstown.” 

I awoke the next morning with a headache in proportion to the amount of laughs we had had the night before. Despite this, we all gathered for a hike to the top of Ben Lomond, the massive peak that overlooks all of Queenstown. Along the way, we made another Aussie friend, Steven, who joined the pack. 

The hike was easy at first, but brutally steep as we got closer to the summit of Ben Lomond. We were panting and sweating, immediately followed by freezing cold as the winds at the summit whipped through our sweaty clothes. Finn nearly died chasing a Kea (large mountain parrot) with his camera, we took some good group shots, and then we started sweating again as we went down. 

Unable to resist, we all signed up to do the luge racing at the gondola summit. It was WICKED fun, way more than I expected. With 6 of us whipping around the corners, cutting each other off, we had ourselves a hootenanny. 

After one final FergBurger that night, my Queenstown time thus came to an end. I decided to scoot off to Wanaka, the hippy/outdoorsy brother of Queenstown to the North. It was a rare rainy day, but I was determined to sweat off all the beers and burgers of my jaunt in Queenstown so I headed out the freaky-long drive to Rob Roy Glacier. 

The walk was gorgeous as usual, and it’s where I identified what I'm calling "Trail Chuckles". It’s this moment when I’m completely alone on either a road or a trail, no other humans in sight for miles, and I stop to look around at my unbelievabley beautiful surroundings. I feel this energetic surge start in my stomach, work its way up my chest until I release a booming, joyous laugh. It’s when I almost can’t believe the things I’m looking at, and the place where I’m standing. It’s pure unbridled awe and joy bursting out of me, and it’s usually accompanied by a vocal “where the fuck am I?!?!” I've had countless Trail Chuckles so far this trip and this day was no different.

When my friend Shantel from Oamaru hit me up on FB about needing more photos for the Steampunk HQ, I couldn’t resist the chance do a proper photoshoot at such an awesome location. I hopped in my car and buzzed over to Oamaru, where I did my best to get artsy with the art and stuff: 

Shantel ended up donning the full Steampunk garb and I got a chance to really practice my portrait photography! This is something I have wanted to do for ages but haven’t had the opportunity. Shantel was a great subject and we had a lot of fun playing with the different lighting and atmospheres of the Steampunk venue. Here’s a few of my favorite shots:

The first week of June, the New Zealand Steampunk Festival is happening in Oamaru. It’s a 4 day bonanza of Victorian steampunk glory, and I managed to get myself involved as a photographer working pro bono. Wooo! Stay tuned for pics from that event, it's sure to be a hootenanny. 

As my Oamaru stay came to a close, I got several urgent texts from Jay and Meg to get my ass over to Fox Glacier so we could do the highest skydive in NZ. By now you must realize I can’t resist such things, so I drove my ass across the country again and had yet another adrenaline filled adventure with Jay and Meg. 

The skydive was INCREDIBLE. We jumped from 16,500 feet. The last 4,000 foot climb in the plane we had to wear oxygen masks. I was absolutely freezing as the frigid wind hit my face but didn’t care in the slightest. It was a clear blue day and the snow dusted mountains in the distance competed with the sun glinting off the ocean for the most beautiful sight I’ve seen in all of New Zealand. 

After a raucous night of partying in Jay’s camper van, I started working my way up the coast with Meg. She and I parted when I went to tour the Monteith’s Brewery in Greymouth and she headed to Kaikoura. 

I’m penning these last paragraphs from a coffeeshop in the charming town of Nelson, the largest and northernmost city on the South Island. I linked up with Lydia, a KiwiBrit I met back in Dunedin, to explore this town. The weather here is wonderful, and I think I’ma head out and get myself lost in some nature. 

Oh, and craziest thing happened this morning! I was on a run around Nelson and a random car swings out of nowhere honking it's horn. It was Linda and Joschka! My German friends!! Pretty sure they're stalking me still. Small island eh?

Thanks for reading, everyone! Your feedback has been wonderful and encouraging to keep this puppy running. 

Ta ta for now,

-K

Oh you like massive mountains? Get in here!

I’d heard about em, I’d chatted about em, and I’d seen countless advertisements for them. The Great Walks are staples of tourism here in New Zealand. When I’d arrived in Te Anau, I hadn’t planned on doing one seeing as I was without sleeping bag, stove, pots’n’pans, or camp food. However after chatting with a few friendly folks in the hostel, I discovered all you really need is a good pack, some form of nourishment for 3 days, and an agreeable attitude towards the cold. After a bit more research at the local Department of Conservation (DOC) office, I was sold. 

Unfortunately Joschka and Linda, my traveling companions for the last few days, weren’t as keen. No worries though, they had plans to hit the Milford Sound and I’d likely bump in to them later on in my travels (it’s a small island, after all). I was all geared up to the Kepler Track solo. Then, right after purchasing my hut tickets at the DOC office, I bumped in to two young German guys I’d met in Invercargill. They were planning on doing the Kepler Track as well! They agreed to meet up with me at 7:30am and we’d head off on the trail. Friends! Huzzah!! 

The Kepler Track is the longest of the Great Walks in the Fiordlands. The total loop is 60 kilometers (37.28 miles, you imperial system ape), reaches 1,400 meters (4,600 feet) at it’s highest point, and sports spectacular views of Te Anau lake and the mountainous Fiordland. Tough to imagine? Fortunately I took a buttload of pictures along the way for you to view from the comfort of…wherever you are. 

My tramping companions were Jakob and Finn, 18 year old German guys in the midst of their gap year before heading off to University sometime next year. The pair had met here in New Zealand, not in Germany, and begun traveling together 3 weeks earlier. It turns out that a TON of Germans work and travel around NZ, it’s the hot place to be. Germany is much more accepting towards the idea of kids taking a year off before heading to college. This may be because their university is a bit more serious (read: less party-centric) than ours is, so the gap year is intended to scratch that “go do something wild and free” itch before they get focused on school. That’s my assumption, let’s go with that…

Finn had a fair bit of English, and Jakob’s was nearly perfect. The two were enthusiastic about hiking as many routes as possible before they left the country. They were also hellbent on beating the tramping time estimates set out on the signposts at the beginning of the track. 6 hours to Luxmore Hut? Bah! We can do it in 3. And that we did. 

Once we got above the treeline, the views were epic. I immediately affixed my camera to my trusty pack strap attachment (Peak Design’s Capture) so I could snap photos without hesitation. It was really nice to finally have actual people to photograph instead of just landscapes. It makes the photos SO much more compelling. Since Finn was also in to photography, we forced Jakob to be our model most of the time. He didn’t seem to mind as long as his hair was looking good. 

Luxmore Hut is the first stop on this track. It’s ~15km from the start and sports unreal views of Te Anau lake below. The DOC uses the word “hut” loosely…this thing was a mountain chalet with 57 beds and a massive kitchen/common area. 

We claimed a couple beds in the bunk room and then set off for the nearest attraction to the hut: the Luxmore Caves. I wasn’t sure what to expect from these caves after the awesome Clifden Caves, but I sure wasn’t ready for these caves to blow the other out of the water. 

Unlike the Clifden Caves, the Luxmore caves require a 3 hour hike to get to them, so the folks who visit these caves are much more dedicated to experiencing the outdoors than those just pulling off the side of the road for Clifton. The beauty of this is that nearly ALL of the stalactites and rock formations were still in tact. Visitors didn’t feel the need to fuck these ones up the way they seemed to in Clifden, so the cave was vastly more interesting.

Also, this cave went on FOREVER. We plummed in to the depths for over an hour at a fast pace, and still did not reach the end of the documented cave system. We could’ve kept going for another hour, but eventually we’d had enough rock and thirsted for fresh air.

We were pretty hyped with the day’s adventures at this point, and decided to keep it running by going to the top of Mount Luxmore (the highest point on the hike) to watch the sunset. It was well worth the thigh-burning tramp to the top. 

When we finally got back to the hut after dark had fallen, we made some dinner and made some friends before passing out. It turns out the the game of Up Chicken is hilarious no matter what language you speak. The fact that I lugged a bottle of Jameson to the hut made me a popular guy. A good time was had by all. 

Okey, I know I’m giving a lot of detail here but keep in mind this is also sorta my journal/account of what’s happening on my trip. Hope I haven't bored you to drooling yet...

The track from Luxmore hut to the Iris Burn hut was the highlight of the trip, by far. The trail was almost entirely above the bush line, following the mountaintop ridges for about 10km. The scenery was breathtaking. That’s where I really put my camera to use. Enough words about it, just check out the pics. 

Cool huh?

After a freezing cold night at the Iris Burn hut, we decided finishing up on the track a day early was in order. Fortunately, the track from there back to the parking lot we started at was relatively flat. So we walked…and walked…and walked…for 30 kilometers. A pitstop at the Motorua Hut (where we would have spent the night) marked halftime, then we got after it again. Since this part of the trek was entirely under the bush line (read: in the forest) I just left my camera in my bag and focused on walking. 

Every muscle in my legs ached from marching with my heavy pack all day, but I had a massive grin on my face as the parking lot came in to view. It felt awesome to have completed the whole 60km in 3 days. Booyaaa! 

Me and the fellas took a selfie, then went off to cheers some beers and get a shower. I splurged and treated myself to a motel room so I could have some privacy to shower and sleep. I slept like a dead man. 

Since I apparently can’t stay in one place for more than I day, I took a daytrip up to Milford Sound on Friday. For all the hype, I didn’t think it was as cool as expected. Then again, I’m not sure what could top the mountain views from the Kepler, so maybe I was just spoiled. 

Currently posting this puppy from Queenstown- the adventure capital of New Zealand. Not sure what I’m going to do here, but I know it will involve some bungie jumping, skydiving, paragliding, or a little from all three. Keep a weather eye on the horizon for another photo essay from yours truly. 

Keegan out.

Naked and stuff.

Greetings, Friends! I'm so flattered you decided to stop by for another dose of Keegaventures. I thought once was enough, but you are somewhat of a masochist aren't you? Alrighty then, on we go! 

My stay in Oamaru was pretty great. Good ‘ol Agra, the owner of my hostel, had me bring along her energetic Border Collie, Liker, along with me on a lung-bursting run up the hills of Oamaru. Having the dog was actually pretty great because she pulled me up the hill with her exuberance. Found my way to the top of the point, overlooking the bay and entire town. Helluva way to start the day. 

After parting with Agra and Liker, I met up with Shantel, a delightful Canadian I met the night before, in a coffeeshop that felt straight out of Williamsburg. Harbour Street is a timewarp- with old victorian architecture and shops run by wool-shearers, sculpture artists, and craftsmen. With all the abandoned commercial real estate in the area, I think it’s ripe for cultural reinnessance. 

After this, Shantel and I wandered over to the SteamPunk museum, which was fucking AWESOME. Dark, dank, and creepy, it was an epic image of a world without circuitry in favor of steam. The Portal was a mirrored room with dangling LED lights that made me feel like I was floating in a gravity-less star world. See pics for a sense of the space. 

After literally the worst sushi of our lives, Shantel and I parted ways and I sped on down to Dunedin. I’ve since finished Into Thin Air, and begun the Sci-Fi hit We Are Legion (We Are Bob). The narrator is incredibly animated and the story very funny, especially for anyone who’s a sci fi nerd. Highly recommend. 

Dunedin was a breath of young-people fresh air. I stayed at a Hostel called Hogwarts (for obvious reasons) and it was filled with all sorts of friendly folks. Dunedin, being a college town, also had oodles of young people roaming the streets, which was a FIRST for any city I’ve been to yet. I also couldn’t help but notice that there were significantly more women walking around than men. As it turns out, Dunedin suffers from “man drought” due to the 6to1 female to male ratio at the University of Otago. Who knew?! 

My first day at Hogwarts I met Amber, a St Louis native, in the kitchen. She was en route to feed sheep at a local kiwi friend’s house just outside the city. I couldn’t pass up a chance to hang with an American, a kiwi, and some precocious young sheep, so I joined up with Amber and we scooted out of town. 15 minutes later we met Birde and Hannah, the former being a student from Germany and the latter the native Kiwi. We hung around Hannah’s house (actually her aunt and uncles place) and fed the skittish little wool-bags with apples and bread. They were very unappreciative of their fruit-slinging overlords. 

Birde needed a haircut for some reason, so Amber and I went to the Cadbury factory tour while she got a trim. The Cadbury factory will soon be closing, so we thought it was worth a visit to the $5 tour. 

It was a very rainy day, but that didn’t stop the girls from wanting to push in to the countryside to hunt for penguins and sea lions. And hunt in the rain we did. So much in fact that we were soaked to the bone by the time we returned to our car from Sandfly Bay, unsuccessful apart from a single rainy log of sealion we spotted on a rock. Despite the saturated status of our clothes, we had a great ol’ time exploring. 

The next morning, I awoke at 6:30am and met up with the girls to watch the sunrise at Mount Cargill. It was SO worth it. Over the cold, howling wind, the view was fantastic. The day before, I had mentioned that I wanted to take a naked picture on top of a mountain sometime on my travels. The girls of course remembered this and within seconds Hannah had my camera and they were getting me lined up in to position. It was fucking frigid cold, yet oddly freeing, to stand on top of this massive mountain with the wind whistling through my nethers. The giggles behind me were raucous, but the grin on my face was worth it. 

I set off from Dunedin solo, and it was very nice to be on my own once again. I loved having company to explore with, but I have also become very comfortable with being on my lonesome. Once I was back on a trail, the only human in sight, I felt glee surge forth from me. The path was ridiculously muddy from recent rains, but my bigass hiking boots squelched through it without a problem. When I reached the waterfall that was my target, I found a group of 8 college kids cheering their friends on to swim in the pool at the base of the falls. The moment they saw me, they started cheering and haggling me to join in the fun. I couldn't help it, I hopped right in. 

In Dunedin I also met some friendly Germans, Joschka and Linda, who I continually ran in to over the next few days traveling to Curio Bay and Invercargill. After this last run in, we decided we might as well just travel together. We set out from Invercargill, the southernmost city of NZ, for Gemstone Beach. We spent a relaxing few hours picking through the sand-smoothed stones of the beach. Next, we set our cars for Clifden Caves, an INCREDIBLE 300m cave system that has somehow escaped the tourist routes and sits awaiting only those in the know. 

The caves were fucking AWESOME. In the US, these caves would definitely be forbidden from public use without a tourguide, full climbing gear, and two pages worth of liability paperwork to sign before you could set foot inside. But this is NEW ZEALAND. Just read the simple, faded sign with some history and warnings about lighting and flash flood warnings and off you go! 

We climbed, crawled, scooted, and shuffled for over an hour underground. It was seriously cool, with underground pools and waterfalls, along with stalactites and glow worms aplenty. Total highlight of the week. 

After this adrenaline filled afternoon, I turned Big D Northward for the first time, heading in to Te Anau. I’m currently preparing to do the Kepler Track Great Walk with a few young Germans guys I met in Invercargill. Wish me luck! 

Over and outy,

-K

blog one | week one | NZ sure is neat!

So, this is blogging, huh? Nifty. Thought it would look different from the inside, but it’s basically just me writing my inner monologue aint it? 

Anywho, been in NZ for 7 days now, I think. I say I think because I’m technically 18 hours ahead of Denver, so do I count the time difference day as a real day or must I subtract a day in order to-annnnnd I’ve gone cross eyed. We’re calling it 7 days. Correct me in the comments if you want to (sucker, there aren’t any comments!).

My first days in Christchurch (abbreviated CHCH by the kiwis) were used to get my affairs in order. Got a phone, rented the car, got some info from locals, and visited a lil museum. CHCH is a pretty massive city, but lacks the compelling aspects of other cities (nightlife) due to the fact that 4 earthquakes from 2010-2012 leveled 75% of buildings. The city is in the middle of rebuilding itself, and the only appealing aspect of this ongoing construction is the abundance of street art murals that are spread across the city. These murals are hopeful and give the otherwise desolate city a touch of charm, edge, and optimism. 

The moment I rented my car, the mountains were calling. Fortunately, 15 minutes outside the city is Bridle Trail, which climbs several hundred meters very rapidly (read: steep), revealing spectacular views of all of CHCH and the Lyttleton cove down below. 

I had a hunch that more fascinating countryside wasn’t far off, so I picked a random spot out on the point of a peninsula on Google Maps and followed the demanding yet accurate instructions of the GMaps lady. My hunches are pretty good (so far). The drive took me along the coastline to a charming little town called Sumner, where I would totally settle down with a kiwi wife and a couple little tykes, teaching surfing and tending bar in the evenings. I rose up up up on steep switchback roads, cruising down towards the water, calling out the window the to oodles of sheep mawing on the grass. 

Turns out I was on Godley’s point, an old WWII lookout installation used to protect CHCH from the pesky Germans. I sat on top of the hill for almost an hour, the only person in sight amongst the green grass and skittish sheep. It was unbelievably peaceful. My inner hobbit relished the warm, green surroundings. 

After this, I knew I had to get the hell out of CHCH and in to the amazing NZ countryside. As I left the cement colored ambiance of the city Thursday morning for the lush green of country roads, an overwhelming excitement and giddiness took me. I blasted my tunes and sped Big D, my little white Mazda Demio, up to 140km/h. 

Thanks to my trusty friend Scott Cook and his NZ Frenzy book (thanks Mary & Kyle!!), I found the Rakaia Gorge Walkway an hour twenty outside CHCH. I was literally the only human on the path for 2 hours, until a few girls passed me on the end of my return trip. The wind was unlike anything I have ever experienced - nearly 50mph I would guess. The path wound along the Rakaia river, which is a bright blue from the rock sediment that is suspended in the water. Gorgeous stuff. I felt compelled to run along the path for about 2 km, trying to beat the wind and hop over obstacles as I cruised along. 

It was only 11:30/noonish when I finished, so I reset my GMaps to Mount Sunday, also known as Edoras from Lord of the Rings. The drive here was wild fun. The 25km segment of road that leads to the Mount is rip roaring dirt road, so I flew down it with the music blaring as I was once again the only human in sight for quite a while. Poor Big D took more than a few massive clonks to the undercarriage as I did my best to push her to her limits. 

The mountains grew before me, looming more and more with each passing minute. Ooo they are cool. Eventually, I come to an overlook where I have sweeping views of the valley below, which includes little Mount Sunday in the middle and more massive mountains in the distance. 

The wind was even more powerful out here in the exposed valley. As I summited the top of Mt Sunday, the wind literally blew me back. I was leaning 45 degrees in to the wind and it was holding me up. I couldn’t help but laugh maniacally at the beauty of the sight in front of my eyes and the violent persistence of the wind against my body. I screamed out “FOR FRODOOO” a few times, took a tricky pee with the wind at my back, and plodded my way back down the hill. 

After 2 days of amazing view tops, how could I top it?? By visiting Lake Tekapo, of course. NZ Frenzy guided me to a little-known aspect of the peninsula trail- the white bluffs. Most people just do the regular walk but fail to wander down to the shore and along the shoreline back towards the town, where massive white bluffs tower over the freakishly blue water. Since I’m on my own I started using the wifi-phone link of my Sexy6D to take photos of myself, instead of just a bunch of landscapes without any humans in it. Success has been mixed, but it’s sure fun to play with when no one is around to see my use what I have dubbed “no friends function.” 

Since it was horribly rainy on Sunday, I slept in Timaru thinking a larger city would have more going on and people to meet. I was wrong. Enjoyed the city but it wasn’t worth backtracking 1.3 hours, only to re-backtrack again today for 2.5 hours. Oh well, lesson learned. Thankfully I’ve been listening to Into Thin Air, which is both scaring the shit out of me and piquing my interest on climbing the Himalayas, and it makes the time fly by. 

After waking with extremely sore ankles that morning, I decided it was important to get real hiking boots, along with a few other layers and nifty things to deal with the winter hikes I’m facing for the next monthish. Ol’ Sue at Kathmandu did me well by helping me pick out these new nifty nickers. Thanks, Sue! 

Since Monday was cold but very sunny, it was the perfect day to wake up super early and catch the sunrise hitting Aoraki (Mt Cook). I’m SO glad I did. The light was absolutely fucking perfect. So beautiful. And I was once again the only one on the road, as you can see from this shot: 

The Hooker Valley trail is incredibly popular, and I encountered the most people I’ve seen my entire trip. Oddly, being surrounded by so many people made me much more lonely than being the only person on the trail. Thankfully I had Jon Krakour reading me Into Thin Air while I tramped, and didn’t pay the peeps much attention. Managed to snag this shot along the way, which is why this place is so damn popular. 

After these spectacular views and over 35,000 steps on my Fitbit, I found a hostel on Google in Oamaru and headed that way. Turns out the owner of this hostel where I stayed last night is the COOLEST lady ever. She’s the ultimate hostel mum, extremely hospitable, friendly, helpful, and hilariously kiwi. This morning I took her dog, Liker, named because all the backpackers like her, on a run. Here's the two gracious hosts outside the house. 

Made friends with a Canadian, Shantel, who showed me around Oamaru today. Turns out it's the most interesting, hip town I've come across yet. I foresee big things for this place. 

Okay, that’s about it for my first week. If you made it all the way to the bottom here I’m very impressed. Tune in next week for more Keegan adventures! 

-K

There will be stuff here shortly....

I promise.