At the end of our two days on the Routeburn Track, we met up with Brandon's college classmate at the Routeburn Shelter. We had specifically planned for a our hike to end approximately when her husband was set to finish the annual Routeburn Classic Run. (Yeah, some crazy mofos run the length of the Routeburn Track from The Divide to the road end shelter as if it's a regular morning workout.) Her husband finished almost right on time, about an hour after we arrived. I got my thick chocolate pastry and we were off back to Queenstown.
Unfortunately for me, perhaps from the mix of dehydration and exhaustion, the narrow winding roads were no match for me that morning, and before we made it into town, I grew carsick and projectile vomited out the window...what a nice way to meet Brandon's friends...Luckily, however, we were headed to a big comfortable house by the Lake, where we'd be spending the weekend with a small handful of fellow Americans, coworkers of Brandon's college buddy. We were one of the first to arrive, and got first pick of a comfortable room with a cozy view of the lake and the orange and red Autumn trees.
We cooked in and stayed cozy that first night, Brandon and I still recovering from our two days on the trail and getting to know our new companions and enjoying the comfort of the luxurious holiday home--the bach. The next morning, we awoke to one of the other couples cooking a lovely and super-complete breakfast. I warmed up to them real quick! Over breakfast, we all schemed about who would be brave enough to go bungy jumping that afternoon. A couple of the guys said, "Of course, I will," while I shook my head and reminded everyone that a simple car ride easily makes me sick. We made plans to explore the surrounding areas before heading to the original site of the first commercialized bungy jump to see who might dare to take the plunge.
Our first stop was in Arrowtown, which is a true gem in itself. It's an historic mining town that has now turned into a tourist haven of quirky shops, surrounded by rolling hillsides covered in aspen trees. After walking through the little town strip, we climbed up to the War Memorial, where we found striking views of the aspen trees gone orange, gold, and red. Now that the rain had stopped, the clouds had parted and the sun was shining, so we stopped for a quiet while to admire the wonderful before heading further north for a bit of wine-tasting. Wine-tasting here always seems to remind me of home...
We arrived at the Kawarau Bridge in the early afternoon, where everyone else was already oggling at other daring adventure tourists taking the plunge toward the Kawarau Gorge. With it just having rained, the river below looked muddy and thick with debris, and as a response, the bungy centre had proceeded with bungy jumps using a chest harness instead of the typical ankle-waist harnesses. We watched a couple of jumpers from the viewing platform, listening to their curdling screams echo off the surrounding granite rocks. Everyone in our group was daring someone else to at least consider it, while I watched several petite girls lightly bounce at the end of the bungy cord in their fitting chest harnesses. It didn't look so bad, I thought. It almost looked comfortable. This bridge is supposed to be the most famous of bungy jumps. So when I heard Brandon re-affirm that he was committed to the jump, I turned around to him and said, "Yeah, me too."
Everyone was truly surprised that I was up for it, considering my exclamation earlier that morning that I wasn't. But I was feeling better and I wanted to be able to say that I had done something that New Zealand is famous for, while living in New Zealand. So I asked all my nervous questions to the front desk staff and kept the adrenaline pumping as I waited in the queue on the bridge. Brandon seemed calm. His jump seemed over in a flash, and then it was my turn! I had the bridge crew check and re-check my harness. I almost jumped before their countdown was finished, my eyes fixed at the horizon so as to not freak myself out. But when I finally got it all down, I took the plunge and jumped 43-metres into the Kawarau Gorge.
The feeling was incredible--terrifying, but surreal. I opened my tightly-shut eyes as I bounced back up into the air, holding my harness tight. It wasn't that bad at all, but I knew I'd never do it again. ($200 is also a lot of money to jump off of a bridge.) Our house crew cheered me on from the outlook platform. I did it. I took a couple of sighs of relieve, said a prayer of thanks, and smiled my way back up to the bridge.I threw up in the car ride on the way home...
It was another comfortable night in our big holiday home that night with a huge barbecue dinner to suit. Now that we were all better acquainted, we spent longer hours chatting away and laughing. Some of the younger guys who had chickened out at the bungy jump came over to ask me how it all went. It turned out that one of the other guys had gone to school with my San Francisco flatmate and another San Francisco coworker--what a small world! One of the two Kiwi blokes fell intrigued with us after it was made known of his fascination with American culture, and he talked for hours about cultural aspects that some of us weren't even all that privy to. It was great to be amongst another great set of new friends.
We'll be back Queenstown. I promise.
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