The Advent of Misadventures & The Dreaded Doctor/Photo Album:3,4&5
As Kenneth set off on his 5 day 4 night tramp on the Routeburn and Greenstone Tracks, little did he and Michele suspect the oncoming events. His first day on the track was a short one, and pleasant enough, but it was the second day on which he and fellow trampers would be soaked to the bone, on an alpine crossing no less, so not quite tropical.
The next evening Michele camped at the Routeburn Flats for an in-and-back tramp of her own, and had decided on the thrifty use of the tent. Little did she suspect that her second night would be rather unpleasant (can you feel the shivers up your spine?). From her campsite, Michele's hike to the Routeburn summit went without much event, and she decided to leave her daypack at an emergency shelter as she made a side tramp up Conical Hill. Seeing no views and ready for the snacks she'd left behind, after completing the steep descent she searched despairingly for her daypack--absent from the emergency shelter--and ran after it, back in the direction of her tent. Luckily an unassuming hut warden had brought it down and Michele's daypack was retrieved. I will leave off here to let Michele fill in her daring escape of death that very night....
*** (I feel as thought I should type in a different font here, but I'm sure you'll all catch on that it's my turn to narrate!! -- M.) Upon returning to my campsite, I thought of the warning I'd heard from a fellow hiker about heavy rains expected that evening. I considered moving the tent under the cover of trees, but as it was already raining, I thought my possessions would get wetter in the moving than if I just left the tent be. Confident in the tent's ability to keep out the rain, I settled in for the night with my package dinner (Kenneth had the stove) and a good book, thanks to my trusty headlamp. As the night progressed, I stayed tuned in to the strong, then stronger, winds that tested the tent. I trusted the stakes I'd set, but was not prepared for the furious 125 km/hour winds -- that's 75 mph -- that pummelled my shelter. To cut to the chase, the wind ripped the stakes out of the ground and rolled the tent, with me in it. I have never been so terrified in all my life. See, I'd staked the tent not too far from the river's edge.... a roaring, rain-engorged river, just over the edge of where the tent rolled toward.... I scrambled in the dark, found my headlamp, flipped the tent back, untangled myself from my sleeping bag, and got the hell out of there. I spent the rest of the night in the hut nearby, and in the morning confessed my near-death experience to the hut warden. I felt somewhat embarrassed at not moving my tent under the trees for more shelter, until he told me of some campers who'd been killed when strong winds knocked a heavy branch onto their tent. Danger at every turn!!! Anyway, I am immeasurably thankful to be alive, telling this story, and send my love to all my fellow beings with respect for the challenging environment of New Zealand. ***
After Kenneth had returned from the track he was filled in on these events, and praised Michele's heroism, and still feeling a bit shell-shocked was informed that the car had also been broken into. As part of a rash of thievery Kenneth and Michele found themselves recipients of a gentle robber. Passports and car keys were left untouched, but some cash, all our new groceries and the mini-disc player (with a sweet jazz female vocalist mix no less) were stolen. Needless to say we headed for the grocery store straight-away, though each rebought item brought to our lips curses and thumb bitings in the name of the thieves.
As an encore to these riveting events Kenneth enjoyed the wonderful explosive nature of Giardia!! Each day seemed a new vista to explore how quickly a toilet could be found in a foreign country. Actually the nature of the issue wasn't all that explosive, but it was plenty interesting, I mostly felt verklempt (sp?) and bloated, it was great. Luckily it did not hit me until after I was off the Greenstone and Routeburn trails. I believe I had picked it up when on a dayhike on the Greenstone. As I drank my clean and clear NZ water I topped a hill with a beautiful view of green hillsides, beautiful clouds and, Oh Shit!, sheep and cows (shit is right). Actually in retrospect having Giardia was well worth it, yes that's right, it was a learning experience. I visited a GP (general practitioner) soon after I was sure Giardia was causing my upsets and was treated to (!!!) a doctor who sat down and talked to me, not only that but I was handed a questionnaire that asked things like "Do you feel the doctor listened to your concerns and anwered all questions?" I was flabbergasted, that's right, flabbergasted. The doctor, who was a 30-something woman with short dreadlocks, fielded questions about the New Zealand Medical system and her training. There was no intermediary besides the receptionist
(no nurse taking my pulse etc...). My whole meeting was with the doctor, in her office (she assured me I wasn't getting special treatment). She explained that in NZ emergency care is free (!!!), but visits such as mine were for pay. I've been told that since the 60's the NZ Social Security programs have been dismantled, what did they look like before!?!? To top it all off she explained that the body is capable of passing Giardia, but she wrote me a prescription just in case, she didn't know how much it would cost because NZ residents only pay a percentage of their prescription costs. As it turned out I got the prescription after 2 days because, well, frankly I was tired of the unpredictable nature of my new bacterial friend.
Later that week we camped on Cape Foulwind outside West Point on the West Coast. Interestingly enough we moved the car 3 times between 2Am and 3Am because, you might be surprised to know, it was really windy.
The next evening Michele camped at the Routeburn Flats for an in-and-back tramp of her own, and had decided on the thrifty use of the tent. Little did she suspect that her second night would be rather unpleasant (can you feel the shivers up your spine?). From her campsite, Michele's hike to the Routeburn summit went without much event, and she decided to leave her daypack at an emergency shelter as she made a side tramp up Conical Hill. Seeing no views and ready for the snacks she'd left behind, after completing the steep descent she searched despairingly for her daypack--absent from the emergency shelter--and ran after it, back in the direction of her tent. Luckily an unassuming hut warden had brought it down and Michele's daypack was retrieved. I will leave off here to let Michele fill in her daring escape of death that very night....
*** (I feel as thought I should type in a different font here, but I'm sure you'll all catch on that it's my turn to narrate!! -- M.) Upon returning to my campsite, I thought of the warning I'd heard from a fellow hiker about heavy rains expected that evening. I considered moving the tent under the cover of trees, but as it was already raining, I thought my possessions would get wetter in the moving than if I just left the tent be. Confident in the tent's ability to keep out the rain, I settled in for the night with my package dinner (Kenneth had the stove) and a good book, thanks to my trusty headlamp. As the night progressed, I stayed tuned in to the strong, then stronger, winds that tested the tent. I trusted the stakes I'd set, but was not prepared for the furious 125 km/hour winds -- that's 75 mph -- that pummelled my shelter. To cut to the chase, the wind ripped the stakes out of the ground and rolled the tent, with me in it. I have never been so terrified in all my life. See, I'd staked the tent not too far from the river's edge.... a roaring, rain-engorged river, just over the edge of where the tent rolled toward.... I scrambled in the dark, found my headlamp, flipped the tent back, untangled myself from my sleeping bag, and got the hell out of there. I spent the rest of the night in the hut nearby, and in the morning confessed my near-death experience to the hut warden. I felt somewhat embarrassed at not moving my tent under the trees for more shelter, until he told me of some campers who'd been killed when strong winds knocked a heavy branch onto their tent. Danger at every turn!!! Anyway, I am immeasurably thankful to be alive, telling this story, and send my love to all my fellow beings with respect for the challenging environment of New Zealand. ***
After Kenneth had returned from the track he was filled in on these events, and praised Michele's heroism, and still feeling a bit shell-shocked was informed that the car had also been broken into. As part of a rash of thievery Kenneth and Michele found themselves recipients of a gentle robber. Passports and car keys were left untouched, but some cash, all our new groceries and the mini-disc player (with a sweet jazz female vocalist mix no less) were stolen. Needless to say we headed for the grocery store straight-away, though each rebought item brought to our lips curses and thumb bitings in the name of the thieves.
As an encore to these riveting events Kenneth enjoyed the wonderful explosive nature of Giardia!! Each day seemed a new vista to explore how quickly a toilet could be found in a foreign country. Actually the nature of the issue wasn't all that explosive, but it was plenty interesting, I mostly felt verklempt (sp?) and bloated, it was great. Luckily it did not hit me until after I was off the Greenstone and Routeburn trails. I believe I had picked it up when on a dayhike on the Greenstone. As I drank my clean and clear NZ water I topped a hill with a beautiful view of green hillsides, beautiful clouds and, Oh Shit!, sheep and cows (shit is right). Actually in retrospect having Giardia was well worth it, yes that's right, it was a learning experience. I visited a GP (general practitioner) soon after I was sure Giardia was causing my upsets and was treated to (!!!) a doctor who sat down and talked to me, not only that but I was handed a questionnaire that asked things like "Do you feel the doctor listened to your concerns and anwered all questions?" I was flabbergasted, that's right, flabbergasted. The doctor, who was a 30-something woman with short dreadlocks, fielded questions about the New Zealand Medical system and her training. There was no intermediary besides the receptionist
(no nurse taking my pulse etc...). My whole meeting was with the doctor, in her office (she assured me I wasn't getting special treatment). She explained that in NZ emergency care is free (!!!), but visits such as mine were for pay. I've been told that since the 60's the NZ Social Security programs have been dismantled, what did they look like before!?!? To top it all off she explained that the body is capable of passing Giardia, but she wrote me a prescription just in case, she didn't know how much it would cost because NZ residents only pay a percentage of their prescription costs. As it turned out I got the prescription after 2 days because, well, frankly I was tired of the unpredictable nature of my new bacterial friend.
Later that week we camped on Cape Foulwind outside West Point on the West Coast. Interestingly enough we moved the car 3 times between 2Am and 3Am because, you might be surprised to know, it was really windy.
posted by Perpetual Pilgrim at 7:51 PM
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