I’ve spent the last ten nights sleeping in my down jacket, long underwear, fleece
pants and wool hat. Winter is in full force in New 
Zealand. It is freezing! My last final exam finished up on June 30th, then a few friends and I decided to take on the cold and spend my last ten days claiming my final memories. We named ourselves “Team Encore” and began our adventure with a three day backpack through Arthurs Pass, a set of mountains about two hours west. From the second through the fourth, we climbed through two spectacular saddles, surrounded by snowcapped peaks, trudged through forests and waded icy streams. On the morning of the fourth there was no barbecue, beer and watermelon, instead we awoke in a slightly frigid hut in the middle of the mountains. I sang “happy birthday” to America before eating our oatmeal and hitting the trail. In an attempt of patriotism, we tried to sing American songs as we headed down the trail, but realized we some issues…you know 
when you’re little, and you don’t know the words to a song, so you fill it in with words that most likely make no sense but fit the tune, and then sometime when your older and someone points out the real words-its quite embarrassing? Well, this was the problem we all faced. “O, Beautiful, for gracious sight in amber waves of grace…” I began to sing, and realized that no matter how hard I tried, my first-grade, half-humm, half-sing-a-long version of the songs were all I had put to memory. Needless to say, our patriotic trail sining was short lived. Thickly buried between layers was our patriotic colors where a little red lied in a t-shit, blue strip on underwear and white logo on our jacket, an attempt almost as pathetic as the singing.
By dinner we gave up hope, eating Indian food, followed by a Jazz Bar (with live music) and a beer after a long glorious day in the mountains. It was no traditional forth, but diffinentally unforgettable.
Our Encore trip headed south, where we climbed Mt. Fox through rain forest, using roots and rotted trees to pull and hoist ourselves straight up the mountain (switchbacks are in no way a part of New Zealand trail blazing). W
e ended up on top Mt. Fox, overlooking Fox glacier, Mt. Cook, the Tasman Sea and surrounding area, one of the most spectacular lunch spots in my lifetime.
The view from lunch a few days later closely rivaled that on top Mt. Fox. Skiing in Wanaka at a resort called Treble Cone, we experience an epic day in my ski history. All above tree line, the mountain had previously received over a foot of fresh, light powder. Although most was chopped up, we were able to hike up and get some fresh tracks and spectacular views. From the top, the dozens of peak of mt. Aspiring national park stood glowing under the blue-bird sky, while Lake Wanaka and surrounding mountains lay on the other. It was unbelievable.
Since it was New Zealand’s “winter holiday” we were unable to find a place to stay
in the ski town, Wanaka, so decided (at seven-thirty) to make the five and a half hour trip back to Christchurch. Although we had called Christchurch our home for the past five months, we all had to have checked out of our rooms before our trip, so were homeless. We ended up sleeping in the living room and on the floors in my old flat, seeing how new students had already moved and were fully living in each of our rooms! It was weird to be in my flat, yet have it no longer fe
el like home. I was diffinentally getting the hint, my time in New Zealand was ending. The next day, doing last minute souvenir shopping, the hints only became louder as the new students left for the orientation program, the cloudless days turned to drizzle and there was no one left in Christchurch that I could ask to take me to the airport. It was time.
I’m home now, sweating, it was ninety-five when I was picked up from the airport last night! None of my flights were on time, causing panic sprints between terminals, in order to keep my nalgine water bottle I was forced to chug half-a liter of water outside security before barely making it to final boarding call. It was a hilarious panic-chugging image. Anyways, I was greeting my entire family with hugs and a handmade sign. Home to a delicious barbecue and fresh Oregon berry pie that was enjoyed on the deck as I watched the long summer day finally end, exposing the northern constellations. No more southern cross, but I’ve got the big dipper back! It feels good to be home and knowing that New Zealand is a place that pictures can never do justice, only means I'll have to go back someday!
