Up in the Tararua Ranges there's an absolutely gorgeous campground which I've just gotten home from camping at. After almost a week out there I took a great number of stunning photos trying to capture the majesty of the native bush that cover the mountainous peaks where the frigid waters of the river wines its way down towards the Tasman Sea. With no Cellphone reception or electricity it was a time to get back to the basics. Sleeping in a tent and freezing at night on air-beds that deflate by about midnight, it was really all about the experience.
While it's meant to be the height of summer, I was still bundled up in layers of thermals and thick jumpers most of the time. We only had one day where you could tell the season, and the sun chose the worst day to make its appearance. We had to pack everything up in the blistering heat when we'd dressed for the cold we'd come to recognize.
Despite the weather, it was impossible to ignore just how amazing the surroundings were that we were in. With the sound of native bats and Morporks lulling us to sleep, we knew we were really in the middle of nowhere. Even the road wasn't for the faint hearted. Although I'm exhausted and extremely sore from all the tramping and accidents we had, and even with the minor cuts, bug bites, and bruises I sustained, I'd never pass up the opportunity to go back. There's something about the place which I find mystifying, and is absolutely indescribable in its beauty.
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| My awesome Dad crossing the river |
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| The New Zealand endemic Pigeon, known as the Wood Pigeon or Kererū in Maori |
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| My very tolerant little sister who was very patient with me after I managed to cut my foot the day earlier. |
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| A Huntsman spider which was sun bathing beside the river where we stopped to take a rest after a difficult walk. |
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| The view from the window of the plane on the way back home. |
