ZAP! POW! BAM! WOW!

Well, it took a while to come down from our natural high and wipe the massive grins off of our faces. After the Doubtful Sound, it is hard to imagine anything could compete, but we decided to give Milford Sound a shot. The drive up from Te Anau to Milford in itself was beautiful. As we approached the mountain range leading to the sound, we traveled through beautiful golden meadows, and soon, we were in a valley, encased with rugged, sheer cliffs, covered with glaciers. Waterfalls draping the walls of the mountains, at every turn. The closer we got, the more massive the mountains became and the smaller we felt. It was difficult to see the tops of mountains without craning your head out the window or practially laying on the floor to get the view. The only way to get the true picture, was to get out of the van and look straight up. As we approached the top of the range, we came to the Homer Tunnel. A long, dark, dank, one lane tunnel that appeared as though it was inviting you in as it's next meal. We waited our turn to enter the mouth of the beast. Many dreadful thoughts ran through our minds as we drove along, anticipating the light at the other end. Alas! A beautiful sight to behold! Again, large beautiful mountains looming above us. The weather was fine, sunshine and large fluffy clouds accentuated the alpine skyline. As we dropped down over the mountains into Milford, there she was, Miter Peak, bathing in the sunshine and blue waters of the sound. The next morning she was beautiful! With the early sun lighting up her snowy crown, and a low clouds gently covering her shoulders. Unlike the quite calm of Doubtful, Milford Sound has the feeling of power and grandeur. Each emits a unique mood, and each one worthy of it's reputation. On our way up and over the pass, we stopped and took a hike near the Hollyford Track. The trail followed a river raging with wild whitewater. Large moss covered rocks and peaty pools of water made for a picturesque scene. We climbed the steep, narrow trail using rocks and tree roots for foot holds, tramped through a valley of waist high ferns and over a boulder field that carried us to the high alpine glacial lake. We sat at the shore gazing up at the glaciers and staring at the crystal clear reflections in the water. Waterfalls made their way down the valleys to the lake basin and we could hear the sound of the water and rocks crashing down the mountains as they gave way to the pounding water. What can I say, except Holy Cow!The evening found us down south at the beach side town of Riverton, where we spent quite a bit of time with our heads in the sand picking up more polished rocks. These rocks, I will have to say, are far more colorful and special that others I have picked up, so I will have to do some sorting out before we board the plane, or there may be news of an airline going down in the Tasman Sea. Heading east, we drove through the beautiful countryside of the Catlins and camped at the quiet beach of Hina Hina. The next day we made our way out to the Otago peninsula, to Portobello. The peninsula is home to many rare and endangered species including albatross and yellow eyed Penguin. We heard word of Sandfly Beach, where the DOC has a hide set up for Penguin viewing, so we grabbed an early dinner, and at dusk, we headed out the beach. It took about 30 minutes just to reach the beach. We hiked and slid down steep sandy dunes, wishing we had our skis on. Once on the beach, the blind was another 15 minute walk, it was getting late, and there was already many Penguin footprints leading from the water to the dunes. Fearing that we had missed the action, I picked up the pace. While marching down the beach with my eyes focused on the far end, trying to spot the blind, I nearly stumbled over a sea lion laying in the sand. He was blocking the path to the blind and since sea lions are known to be aggressive, backing up slowly and quietly, we headed up a seep dune. From the top of the dune, I spotted 2 Penguin's playing in the surf! They rode the waves for several minutes and then they slowly waddled out of the water, across the beach and into the dunes. We quietly followed their path with our camera lens, and got a few good shots, until they disappeared into long grass. It was getting dark, so started to headed back unsure of how we were going to climb the steep dunes that carried us down to the beach. As we looked up, Johnny was pretty sure it was going to take a helicopter rescue to get us out. We took one step at a time, slipping back, and sinking in every step. We had to rest several times and catch our breath before we reached the top of the trail,by then our shoes were packed with sand and we had shed every jacket we had on, sweating like it was high noon in the middle of summer. The next morning we said so long to Rick, Katie and Hokulani. It was a sad day for us, as we really enjoyed traveling with them. Both Johnny and I had gotten pretty attached to little Hoku, the sweetest, and most well behaved 2 year old we have ever had the pleasure of knowing. After touring around the Otago Peninsula, we headed into Dunden to see "The Worlds Fastest Indian" It was really fun, since it is about a Kiwi, and was filmed in NZ. As we headed up to Central Otago, we decided to see if we could wear some of the rubber off of those bike tires. We rode a wonderful 150 kilometer rail trail that gently climbs through vast open high plains, across pasture land, over bridges and river valleys, and through tunnels. It was beautiful! Johnny and I leap frogged along taking turns riding and driving every 12k to 25k, stopping in little one horse towns that had nothing more than a pub and sometimes a small historic hotel. It was strange feeling riding along in the middle of nowhere, all alone, with only the sound of singing birds. It was nice to have some much time to take in the scenery that you can not see from the highways. Daydreaming about the old gold rush days, and imagining the trains that used to run along the route, I was peddling along without a care in the world, when that familiar sound....Flap,flap, flap...zeeeee. A bloody magpie was after me again! After the bugger made about 20 attempts at my head, I made it into a small town where I asked a Kiwi gentleman if he could offer any advice. "a wee twig in your helmet should help, however the only real answer is to shoot the bloody pests" I found a large stick thinking large would be better than wee,I lodged it into the top of myhelmut and off I went back down the trail. A fine example of Kiwi ingenuity! I think it helped, there were only two more brief attempts were made by the buggers and then I was home free! The ride ended at the quaint little town of Clyde where old stone building from the 1860's lined the old main street. With aching knees and sore rumps, we headed up to see Mount Cook. The turquoise waters of Lake Pukaki looked like a carpet rolled out before her majesty, with the massive Mount Cook at the throne. The color of the water was so bright it made the sky seem dull. The closer we came to the base of the mountain, the more impressive it became. We enjoyed a fantastic buffet dinner at the Hermitage Lodge, with Mount Cook filling the picture widow like a painting. Camping at the base of Mt Cook where there is no development to speak of, that night I woke to a cloudless black sky, filled with a gazillion stars! I woke up Johnny to see the sight, and there in front of us was the southern cross! Life Is Good!