Swim Race - 22 Nov

Yesterday Clare and I headed for the busy Takapuna beach on Auckland's North Shore to go for a swim. Although we have a beautiful swimming beach right on our doorstep where we can swim in peace we were lured to compete in a 1 km race whilst being buffeted by the elbows and feet of about 100 other swimmers. After registering and being issued with a nice green safety swim cap we got changed into our wet-suits and joined the other whale impersonators on the beach. There were a few people who looked OK in a wet-suit but I think I saw the worst case of VPL ever on one guy who's speedos could not have been comfortable.

This race was the third in a 16 week series of races, we had missed the first two so paid attention to the briefing. The concept is pretty straight forward, at the sound of the horn run into the sea, try not to trip over anyone and then as soon as you can, start swimming in the general direction of a big yellow marker buoy, if you make there then turn left and complete the triangular course to finish back on the beach. With lots of arms and legs splashing around it was impossible to see where the marker was so I went with the herd based on the hope that someone at the front must know where they were going. With our agreed goal to make it to the finish without incident and preferably not last we had a relaxed start, trying to avoid getting hit and keeping together. After a couple of minutes I had lost track of Clare - like her, everyone around me was wearing black wet-suits with green swim caps, I did catch sight of the marker buoy so I carried on swimming, my aim was so good that I almost swam into the marker. Once around it I had my first chance to look back along the course, thankfully there were still a few people behind me. On the second leg I put a few extra curves into the course when I kept alternating between heading for the second buoy and the yellow vest of one of the lifeguards off to the left. The home straight lasted longer than I thought it should but soon enough I was back on the beach and running to the checkpoint to have my time recorded.

I did not see Clare waiting for me even though I was sure she was ahead then I saw her walking over fully dressed - how fast was she! It turned out that she hadn't set a course record but managed to swim right into a jellyfish (the only one for miles). She had to retire before reaching the first marker buoy and got a lift back to the beach in a rescue boat.

I managed a comfortable 24 mins 30 sec about 10 mins slower than the fastest girl and 10 mins faster than the slowest. Given that the field included some pretty serious competitors including commonwealth athletes I am pleased with my time. Next week I hope to go faster, Clare is hoping to avoid any close encounters with sea life and make it round the first marker buoy.



 

Road Trip

A couple of weeks ago, while Clare was away in the UK, Malcolm and I took a road trip to explore the East Cape. He called our journey a Surf Trip but since my only surfing for the whole week was less than an hour on the super tame wave at Tologa Bay (below) I don't think I really qualify as a surfer.



The lack of suitably gentle waves to accommodate my lack of finesse did not leave me idle, there was the role of video camera operator while Malcolm was surfing, after watching some of the early footage I began to wish I had gone on the Sky induction and had a go on a TV camera.

There were a few afternoons with no waves at all so we went fishing.


I thought I did pretty well baiting my own hooks with dead fish and I even managed to cast it out more than a few feet from where I stood. Unfortunately the only thing biting was the particularly vicious seaweed. It put up a good fight but in the end I managed to land it for a prize photo.




Malcolm was very unsporting and actually caught a fish.














Bored of seaweed hunting I donned mask and snorkel and took to the water to check and see if there really were any fish in the sea. I found plenty right where I had been fishing and they all looked like they were laughing at me. Why didn't we pack a spear gun?
While exploring a narrow gulley I was amazed to see a stingray swim right under me, with only a few feet of water for the both of us I had visions of Steve Irwin headlines. I am sure they really are very placid fish but I didn't want to put that to the test by cornering it in a narrow shallow gulley so I made a hasty exit.



I am sure that somewhere in the Surf Trip rule book it says that lying around is a bona fide activity.

Going Solo

I decided to give solo hiking a try

My first attempt was not the most difficult of walks but setting out alone I was responsible for everything from the menu, timing, pace and my safety. I chose a 2 day hike to Pinnacles Hut in the Coromandel, at 80 bunks this is the largest hut in the country. The guide book rates the trail as easy-medium and it was less than 3 hours drive from home to the start. Tipped as popular walk I planned my trip for Thursday to Friday to avoid the weekend crowds, it would defeat the purpose of going hiking alone if the trail was busy.

With no one to act as a pace meter I was puffing up the hills at my pace. Actually I puffed up them a little faster than I expected and surprised myself at the time I made. As a result of my haste I sacraficed some enjoyment and appreciation of the forest I was visiting. It was an easy track to follow, apart from clearly signposted junctions with other routes the only choice once I got going was between crossing rivers via the wet boot or swing bridge method. On all but one occasion I opted for wet boots. Call me crazy but I just like blisters better than bouncing and wobbling on semi taut wire ropes suspended above rocky rivers. I never expected to be given the choice but since the bridges were posted as Flood Routes and the rivers were clearly not in flood it would not have been sporting to use them. Apparently I am in a minority, other trampers I talked to seem to prefer the dry wobble than the wet one.


Not having challenged my dislike of heights on the river crossings I dumped my pack at the hut and braved the side trip to the top of The Pinnacles. Ladders, another personal favourite, were employed as an alternative to rock climbing, this time I took the assisted route. For the final scramble DoC had installed iron loops stuck firmly into the rocks to help when scrambling over and around bigger boulders near the edge of an un-quantified drop.


In the ascent I used a significant amount of will power to propel me upwards so I was determined to take the time to enjoy the peace and sunshine. Further reward was the chocolate I carried up in case of emergency, with a fear of heights the mere thought of being at the top of a place called The Pinnacles counts as an emergency. After half an hour trying to relax and appreciate the panorama I braved the decent. If I hadn't already had the chocolate I would probably have needed it before heading back down the ladders.



The hut was palatial - built to accommodate 80 people, there were only 5 others spending the night, 2 German backpakers and 3 middle aged Kiwi ladies.

I slept well but at dawn I was awake as others got up to pack and go. With only 4 hours walk out and all day to do it I was in no hurry and was looking forward to walking alone. I didn't start breakfast until I had waved them off. I managed to transport a raw egg in my pack without it smashing, my reward was a fried egg sandwich for breakfast (gourmet camping).

The clouds provided me with company for my walk, the rain held back its decent to coincide with mine. Immediately on setting out I was startled by the first day tripper to arrive at the hut, he practically ran into me, he was trying to escape the rain, moments later another and then peace again. A short way further along the ridge the track ran alongside electricity pylons (of the shortish wooden variety), from the loud buzzing above me I assume that the rain was not welcome. The sound of angry pylons was motivation for me to up the pace until their route cut away down the valley away from mine. Soon after this I had to stop to let a "jogger" past. Within half an hour he was passing me again on his way back down - annoyingly he was not even out of breath, my excuse was that I was carrying a heavy pack! I didn't see another soul until I reached the car park at the end by which point my main concern was to see if the car would start.