Alaska - the Northern Lights

Part 7 of the Alaska Series.  Click here to start reading at Part 1: Above the Arctic Circle.

There's nothing quite like an alien-green sky to make you forget how cold Northern Alaska becomes once the summer sun finally relinquishes its grasp on the sky.  We didn't have too many opportunities to see the aurora borealis due to cloud cover, but camp guide Dan was happy to double as a 2am alarm clock if there was a chance of a clear sky.

The first night I saw the Lights, I was blissfully asleep, dreaming that Dan was talking to me, patiently calling my name.  Bubbling up from slumber, I realised with a start that he was outside our tent, trying to wake us.  I'd wanted to witness this phenomenon since the first time I'd heard of it and now was my chance.  I'm not sure if it was the excitement or that I was still half-asleep (or both!), but while I had enough presence of mind to pull on a warm coat, I completely forgot to put anything over the thermals on my legs or even socks and boots. 

Not that I noticed the below-freezing temperature; I was too busy looking up while trying to keep my mouth from opening in amazement.  After seeing glorious photos of a breathtaking array of colours, you might think that seeing a green-only display would be a letdown.  Not at all.  The Lights had a life of their own and sent pulsing bursts, jagged fingers and billowing curtains of light streaking across the starry skies.

HowStuffWorks explains what causes both the Northern Lights and the Southern Lights - which my mother watched as a child in New Zealand:  "The auroras, both surrounding the north magnetic pole (aurora borealis) and south magnetic pole (aurora australis) occur when highly charged electrons from the solar wind interact with elements in the earth's atmosphere."  Read more about the auroras, including an explanation of the different colours in this article.

Crawling back into bed, I realised just how silly I'd been, rushing out unprepared for the frigid night.  Even the super-toasty sleeping bag Cecil lent me didn't cut through the cold and it took two pairs of woolly socks, warm leggings over the thermals and woolly gloves before the warmth of the freshly-stoked fire seeped through and I finally stopped shivering enough to sleep.

The next time Dan woke us from our snug cocoons, I made sure to put on a coat, socks, boots and a good warm pair of pants over the thermals.  Even if it was only so that I could stay out longer.


Next up:  Here for the Hunt

A Winter to Remember

Atlanta most certainly has put on a show this winter.  The Snowpocalypse of two weeks ago (which I was lucky enough to avoid) had people stranded in cars, at their workplaces, or in various restaurants, shops and private homes that opened their doors to complete strangers in a true display of Southern hospitality.

Good folks all over town headed out to the highways with hot drinks and food for those who were stuck on the treacherously icy roads.  I've been known to mock Atlanta drivers on occasion, but what happened here last month was no laughing matter - it was downright dangerous.  Roads large and small all over the greater Atlanta metro area were clogged.

This week we were better prepared, if only because schools closed and many workplaces asked their employees to work from home.  A far cry from 30 January, when cars and trucks littered the highways, this time the city became an overgrown ghost town.  Traffic cameras that two weeks ago displayed the extent of the chaos in 10 minute updates, now showed the few who were venturing out into the frozen stillness.  Many areas experienced power outages which added insult to injury.

But not all was doom and gloom.  The kids on my street built snowmen - one with a hard hat and another with a pink bonnet.  Families spent time together making candles, playing games and enjoying time seldom spent together.

Yesterday morning, before the sun came out and the city began to thaw, I woke to a layer of snow-covered ice on the trees, with a bright red cardinal who hung around long enough for me to grab my camera.  Seeing him sitting there in the confusion of branches brought to mind the closing lines of a poem my Mum used to have hanging on the wall:

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.*

* From Max Ehrmann, Desiderata 1927.

Bow Hunting in Alaska

Part 6 of the Alaska Series.  Click here to start reading at Part 1: Above the Arctic Circle.

This is one of my most favourite memories of our trip to Alaska.  Father and son moose-hunting team The Petes (otherwise known as Big Pete and Little Pete), camp guides Dan, Cecil and Chris, and I were sitting in the cook tent after breakfast, playing Farkle.  If you've never played this game, you're missing out on a bunch of fun.  Especially using Cecil's rules, which state you have to score exactly 10,000 to win. 

Playing Farkle in the cook tent

After a couple of rounds of Farkle, Little Pete asked me if I'd be able to photograph him at target practice with his hunting bow.  He wanted a photo of the arrow right before it hit the target.  Welllllll I'm up for a challenge, so we headed out to the airstrip.

After a few warm-up shots, Pete declared he was ready.  First, however, we needed to figure out how I'd know when to start shooting, to catch the arrow in flight.  I suggested that I count down from three and then he'd let loose.  It went something like this:

Me:     "Okay ready?  Three -"
LP:     [lets arrow fly - it hits target with a resounding THUNK!]
Me:     "SERIOUSLY?"
LP:     "Shut up."

Chris and Cecil enjoying the fun

But Pete is pretty darn good with a bow and arrow, leaving me to be the one having difficulties timing the shot.  Even at a continuous four frames per second burst, the photo below is the closest I got the arrow to the target.  Not bad for a first time, though!

Straight and true

Pete got what he came to Alaska for - he nabbed a moose, using a bow and arrow.  Now that's a serious beastie and some major bow hunting skills.

Pete and his moose.  Photo used with permission.

Next up:  The Northern Lights

My Wish Came True

 

It's the little things in life that can really make your day.  My home town in New Zealand has a wonderful climate: lovely hot, dry summers, winters that are cold enough to kill the bugs off but very rarely below freezing.  I'd been in snow once, but had never actually seen it snow until I moved to the USA.  

Living in Georgia doesn't exactly offer up many opportunities for snow, but there have been some magical moments for me:  my first Christmas in the US was white (which finally made sense of all the snow-themed Christmas carols) and my husband and I woke on the first day of our honeymoon to a pretty covering of snow at our cabin in the North Georgia mountains.

I discovered that it can actually snow hard - I always thought it sort of floated down gently until I saw big, fat flakes barrelling down from the sky.  And I saw my own, personal warp speed special effect as I tipped my head back and stared up into the falling snow.  I've opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out to catch snowflakes and taste them and I've giggled helplessly while feeling the cold wet seep through as I lay on the ground to make snow angels.  

My manager at the first job I had here was appalled when he found out that I'd never been in a snow fight, so he took me outside and we proceeded to pummel each other and our coworkers with snowballs.  I've had a total of three snow fights in 18 years - which says more about Georgia snow than it does about me.

On Tuesday it snowed while I was working; processing photos and entering bills into the accounting software.  I looked out my window and saw the neighbour's kids lobbing snowballs at each other and all I could think of was Calvin & Hobbes.  Give me a sled, my stuffed Tigger toy (or in this case, Rocky Dog in the photo above) and I'm there.  Time to head for the hills.

Alaska - Planes from the Inside World

Part 5 in the Alaska Series.  Click here to start at the very beginning - Part 1: Above the Arctic Circle.

I was going to call this post Planes from the Outside World, but then I realised you don't get any more outside than inside the Arctic Circle.  If you follow my drift.  Planes come from towns and cities where people tend to spend more time inside than outside.

The airstrip at camp - marked by moose antlers.

It's amazing how seemingly random sounds can provoke strong emotional responses from us.  I grew up in an area that was not quite urban, not quite country; lots of farmland and orchards around my home town.  So it was a fairly common occurrence to hear a prop-plane off in the distance, mostly crop-dusting but sometimes recreational.  So while I'm not the world's most enthusiastic flyer, the sound of a prop plane has a special place in my heart and brings back memories of hot summer days.  I even wrote a poem about it:

Tiger Moth

A distant plane drones
And memory strings
Stir in harmonic hum,
Long ago days and 
Slow summer haze.
Time was a cat
Stretching languidly
As we lay on our backs
On sun-warmed grass,
Cobalt sky reflected in 
Blackberry-flavoured lips.
We sweetened the hours
With lethargic dreams while 
Time mocked our laughter,
Slinking unnoticed
On small padded feet.
And the days and the years
Walked unmarked, except by  
Dusty lines on our faces 
And sepia memories
Revived by the sound
Of a fading plane. 

Got an A for that one - yay me!  (Which reminds me, I need to enroll for next semester soon...)

Anyhow, back to Alaska.  Apart from a satellite phone for emergencies, the only contact we had with the rest of the world was via the bush pilots.  We were a world away from Fantasy Island but the sound of an approaching plane brought Tattoo's cry "De plane!  De plane!" to mind more than once.  Everyone in camp at the time would head out to the 'airstrip' to greet the pilot and help unload the goodies.

Helping unload and load the plane.

And seeing as it wasn't a quick jaunt to the supermarket, planes usually also meant the arrival or departure of hunters.  The first team we said goodbye to was Jerry and Lisa and it was a sad farewell - they are a great couple and brought a lot of laughter to camp.  The joint cook-tent-crossword-solving effort was an epic event and I'll never look at a crossword puzzle again without giggling.  Jerry's such a good sport.

Jerry & Lisa on their last day in camp.

So now, along with memories of the long, hot, dry summers of my youth, the distant sound of a prop plane also brings to mind a colder, utterly wild part of the world.  Two different hemispheres; the bottom and the top of the world, two different times separated by 'several' years, but still the same 'Great Outdoors', good friends and good times.

Next up:  Bow Hunting in Alaska

It's Christmas Day!

Merry Christmas to you all - may you have a wonderful day and may the blessings of God be with you throughout the coming year.

Alaska - Wolves and Bears

Part 4 of the Alaska Series.  Don't miss a moment: click here to start reading at Part 1: Above the Arctic Circle!


Luckily, I wasn't holed up the entire time with a cold.  The first fine day saw me champing at the bit to be out by myself in the Great Outdoors of Alaska.  But there was a problem:  I didn't have anything for protection from the wild beasties.  Not that we'd been inundated with four-legged visitors; all we'd seen so far were a couple of moose, at a distance.  The only thing I was planning on shooting with was my trusty Nikon.  Nevertheless, best not to tempt fate, so when Wayne offered to lend me his handgun, I accepted.

This wasn't any old handgun though; this was a Smith & Wesson 500, no less.  According to Wikipedia, the S&W 500 is 'the most powerful production revolver in the world today, and it is being marketed as [...] "the world's most powerful handgun" by the manufacturer."  Yikes.

(I just used Wikipedia as a source in my writing.  My English professors will be rolling their eyes in dismay.)

Okay, so that you know where I'm coming from, I hadn't even seen a handgun until I came to the US.   My brother has a rifle, my uncle and cousins enjoyed hunting and I'd shot a BB rifle, but I'd never been in the presence of a real-live, hip-holstered, gun-totin' type before emigrating.  When we were planning the Alaska trip, Steve and I decided it would be a good idea for me to learn how to use a handgun, if only so that I didn't shoot myself...  (For the record, I'm pretty darn good at sporting clays and the paper-silhouette target at the gun range ended up with a nice, tight cluster of holes in its shoulder, right where I intended it to be.)

Smith & Wesson 500

Anyhow, back to the story.  Here's me, the rookie in camp, out for a walk by myself with a portable canon strapped to my chest (gee I hope Mum isn't reading this...).  The S&W 500 is a lot heavier than those I practiced with at the gun range, but Wayne promised me the adrenaline rush would take care of that if I had to point it at something.  Oh joy.

I walked far enough away that camp was a few smallish white blips in the distance, then stopped to breathe in the scenery.  A movement caught my eye and I spotted a black bear moving at a fairly quick pace in the direction of camp.  My heart started racing - it wasn't the first black bear I'd seen in the wild, but this time I was alone.  My initial thought was to alert the folks back in camp.  Actually, that was my third thought.  The first two were:  Eek!  Oh whew, it's moving away from me and then Rats!  I wish I had a longer zoom lens.

Black bear heading towards camp.

But my cellphone was stuffed into the bottom of a pack in my tent and no-one provides service north of the Arctic Circle anyhow.  Yes, that's right; of all the ridiculous things to flash through my mind at that moment, calling camp on the cellphone was one.  Yet more proof that I've lived in a large city too long.  (Smoke signals would have been more effective.  Hold on a moment while I rustle up a fire.)

By this time, I was fairly hopping with excitement and no-one around to high-five.  At least I had photographic proof!  I turned south again and spotted husband-and-wife team Jerry and Lisa heading back to camp.  Walking over to meet them, I 'casually mentioned' seeing the bear.  Jerry took one look at the photos and hot-footed it back to camp, trying to intercept the bear before it could disappear.  Lisa and I chatted for a while, then she followed Jerry back to camp.

If you look closely enough, Jerry is just below the horizon off
Lisa's right shoulder.

That wasn't the end of the excitement, however.  Walking back to the river, I spotted a wolf on the far bank.  No doubt he'd long since seen me, but right then he was watching Jerry and Lisa intently as they moved further away.  Determining that they were no longer a threat, he focused his attention on the next curiosity - me.  My heart was now pounding so hard that I could barely get a clear photo, because if there was one animal I wanted to see out here, it was a wolf.

My friend the wolf.

I was totally okay with him trotting down the far bank, then daintily crossing the river and I even got a few shots of him looking upstream and downstream on the near bank.  But when he stared fixedly at me, then quick-trotted straight for me, I started getting nervous.  I thought wolves were shy creatures!  This one was sizing me up for a tasty snack.

Quickly but carefully (yes, carefully, go figure!), I placed my camera on the ground and stood up, drawing the gun and standing broadside to the wolf in one movement.  The gun that was so heavy had never felt lighter.  Until this point, I'd been standing side on so as to better steady myself while photographing the wolf, but turning to face him afforded him a better view of me and he realised I was human.

If I'd known then what I know now, I would have handled it completely differently and ended up with some beautiful photos before scaring him off.  And I would also have scored some awesome video footage as the wolf spun a swift 180 then forded the river, pushing up waves bigger than he was as he bounded back across.  My mind is now the sole keeper of these images, as well as how he quickly climbed the bank, shook himself, then looked back at me over his shoulder before disappearing into the trees.  Next time, my friend.

Next up: Planes from the Inside World

Alaska - Food, Glorious Food & Pitching In

Looking south-ish from near camp.  The sun never got higher than this, but it took forever to cross the sky.

Part 3 of the Alaska Series.  Click here to read Part 1: Above the Arctic Circle, or Part 2: The Outfitters Camp & Moose Bottoms.

Any camp that has razzleberry pie or cake every day is not too shabby in my books, even if it does mean dealing with a long-drop.  I thought I was going to lose weight out there - not a chance - these guys can cook!  And you have the opportunity for fresh caught food, like the Arctic Char one of the hunters fished.  If you've never tried fresh Arctic Char, you're missing out on a treat.

Part of the fun of camp is helping out with the chores.  This is no five star hotel with a chocolate on your pillow!  But that's not my cup of tea anyhow - I'd much rather be having fun in the 'great outdoors'.  Although, the hot shower in Kotzebue after eight days out in the field was much appreciated.  Taking showers by mixing a tub of hot water with a tub of cold water, then ladling it over the top of your head has only so much entertainment value.  Especially when the shower tent is built with shorter people in mind.

I made a killer pasta sauce one night (with the help of a special, top-secret ingredient entrusted to me by Le Roy) and chicken with chipotle sauce another night.  What else was I going to do while having to hang out in camp for a couple of days, nursing a nasty head cold?

Then there's the wood-chopping to do and plenty of it, to keep the cold nights at bay.  I helped out with that too, mostly chopping kindling.  Welllllll, I say chopping, but it was more like scaring the wood to pieces, if the truth be told...

Next up:  Wolves and Bears

Alaska - The Outfitters Camp & Moose Bottoms

Alaska Kobuk Outfitters Camp

Part 2 of the Alaska Series.  Click here to read Part 1: Above the Arctic Circle

Prior to leaving on our Alaskan Adventure, Steve built a slider for my camera so I could pan smoothly while videoing.  The whole thing disassembles and fits neatly into a tube for storage and travel.  The mistake we made before catching our flight is that we didn't have the TSA folks open it, check the contents and seal it with "TSA Inspected" tape.  After all, it was a whole bunch of metal rods and hunting knives stuffed into a 3ft PVC pipe...

We arrived into Kotzebue with all our bags except for the one containing the slider tube.  A search by the helpful airport folks found it in Seattle and one of the local pilots brought it out to me at camp that evening (yay for fantastic customer service - thanks Alaska Airlines and Eric!).  The whole bag was thoroughly inspected, including my apparently suspicious-looking bag of woolly socks.  I do wish the TSA people would learn to repack stuff nicely.  It all fit in once upon a time; it can do it again.

But while waiting for the bag to arrive we realised that my sleeping bag was with it.  It's not much fun in Alaska without a warm sleeping bag and not knowing if it would arrive that day (if ever), I was in a bind.  Camp guide Cecil came to the rescue with a -40deg sleeping bag.  I was Toasty (see that capital T?!) and kept it for the whole time we were there.  I even had to take my socks off.  Best. Bag. Ever. (Thanks, Cecil!)

Wayne and his Alaska Kobuk Outfitters crew really treat you well.  There is a woodburner in your tent to keep the cold out and trust me, you stay warm with that going, as well as drying your clothes when it rains.  And it rained.  We were in a four-man tent (with Steve's brother and sister) and there was plenty of room.  The cots (stretchers in Kiwi-lingo) are comfortable and have enough clearance to store bags under them.

The first full day in camp brought a lot of rain.  Did I mention before that it rained?  September is definitely rainy season in Alaska.  But that (along with a snowfall the previous week) dealt to the bugs, so I was okay with it - mostly because I wouldn't need to wear my BCHN (this is comparable to a pair of BCGs, but is a hairnet instead of glasses).  We spent time getting to know the other folks in camp then suddenly word came in that a moose and calf had been spotted nearby.  Steve and I took off after them, but those long-legged beasties are speedy even when walking.

We climbed up a small rise and waited for a while, finally seeing the pair as they broke cover and headed for the hills.  I only had a chance to photograph their backsides as they quickly moved away from us.  But hey - I snagged a photo of a moose.  Next time it'll be up close and personal.

Next up:  Food, Glorious Food & Pitching In

Alaska - Above the Arctic Circle

Alaska - a land of wolves, bears and cute arctic foxes; rugged wilderness and breathtaking scenery.  A land where one mistake can make the difference between life or death and a land that will take hold of your heart and not let go.

Two weeks ago Steve and I boarded a plane for a part of the world where I never dreamed I'd actually set foot.  Three flights and 19 hours' travel time later, we arrived in Kotzebue - 53km (33mi) north of the Arctic Circle (if you're really interested, the coordinates are 66°53′50″N 162°35′8″W.  Trust me - it's waaaay up there).  But this wasn't an ordinary tourist excursion to the top of the world; we were there to hunt caribou and rough it - as far as you can call it that with a gas stove in camp.

Kotzebue gave us a welcome that was a far cry from the Hotalanta summer we'd just left: cold, windy and a misty drizzle.  Arriving at 9:40am local time, we had a few hours to kill while we waited for the weather to clear for the flight out to the camp run by Alaska Kobuk Outfitters.

One thing we noticed while exploring Kotzebue is that the satellite dishes don't point up; they point to the horizon.  Yet another clue that you're in a completely different part of the world.

At around 3pm local time we finally received word that the cloud layer had lifted sufficiently at camp for us to land out there - and we were off again; even further north and inland.  I've piloted a Cessna once, a long time ago (and have one hour clocked in a pilot's logbook to prove it) but that was on a sunny, windless day and this was not.  I'll freely admit I'm not the happiest flyer, but once I got the courage up to ignore the bumps and look out the window, I was in for a treat.

Our pilot was ever on the lookout for wildlife and thanks to him we saw a group of musk oxen and a rather large-ish moose, which glared up at the plane with a "what?!" attitude.  After a sweet landing on the riverbed (much smoother than the wind-blown thriller landing into Kotzebue), the pilot took off back to Kotz, leaving me to catch this shot of the plane heading for the cloudy sky.

This truly was an adventure to remember - and one that will always be among the best I've ever had the privilege of experiencing.

Next up: the Alaska Kobuk Outfitters Camp and Moose Bottoms.

An Unlikely Match

Here's a short and sweet clip to help dispel your Monday morning blues.  I was looking for motivational videos this morning, to kick-start my week and uncovered this little treasure.

I love cats, hedgehogs are cooler than bowties and the videography is lovely.  Enjoy and have a great week!

Mixing Work and Play

One of the personal projects I'm working on at the moment is a Wildflower Series.  More to come on that later, but today I wanted to showcase this little guy I spotted while out shooting.

He was busy scouting around on the post I was using to brace myself when I spotted him.  We both paused for a moment, taking time out of work to play.  I took one image of him and then he graciously lifted his head up.  I'm certain he was posing - it had nothing to do with the big black lens suddenly dominating his world...

Celebrating People

I don't normally post on a Sunday, but I thought this one was appropriate for the Lord's Sabbath.

There's so much of nastiness, unkindness and uncertainty in our world today that it's truly heartwarming to see regular people doing simple, random acts of kindness.

This kind of love and concern for those around us - as well as for our animal friends - helps us to see that it's not hard to make a real difference in someone's life.  And what may be small to us as a giver can be monumental to the person receiving.

It doesn't take a fancy-dancy organisation or programme, it just takes love.  Share your humanity with those around you.

There's a Big World Out There!

Here's something to make you smile on a Friday and get you through to the weekend - it's almost here...

I totally understand where this woman's coming from!  So many folks think I'm either Australian or British and even when I say I'm from New Zealand, they think I'd prefer to be asked about Australia or England.

My top 5 'favourite' questions I've been asked since moving to the USA:

5. Do you have McDonald's there?
4. Have you ever heard of Motown?
3. Do you have electricity there?
2. How long did it take you to drive here? [Seriously?!]
1. How long did it take you to drive here? [yes, there were two unrelated people who asked this one.]

Oh and there was one young lady who asked me how I got my accent.  I told her that for the first part of my life I practiced really hard and that's when I discovered 12 year olds can be incredibly gullible.  Hook, line and sinker.

There's a big world out there and it's full of different and interesting people :o)  Enjoy!

Blue Moon 2012 - Another View

I had so much fun taking photos of Friday's blue moon over Lake Lanier!  Steve and I took dinner out to the lake and I spent time playing with exposures and composition, just to see what my camera and I can do.

Although it appears that the moon doesn't move very quickly, you don't need a very long exposure before it goes out of shape.  Knowing this, I experimented with different shutter speeds and found that at 2sec the moon is slightly oblong and by 4sec the distortion is very noticeable.

Here's another shot, taken at 0.5sec; zoomed closer and sitting in a soft bed of clouds.

And below is a shot taken about 10 minutes later, with a 15sec exposure.  The sky is a lot lighter but the moon is completely blown out and so has lost all definition in the craters.  In addition, it's creating a definite smudge across the image as it moves.

Blue Moon Aug 2012

Did you catch the blue moon last night?  For us there was some cloud cover low on the horizon, but luckily the moon came out of it before it lost the pretty yellow colour.  And the remaining streaky clouds made for a pretty scene over Lake Lanier, near Buford Dam in Forsyth County, GA.

There were a few folks out on jet skis and boats out on the lake, which left nice patterns in the moon's reflection in the water.

I've always been told that a blue moon occurs when you have two moons in one month.  This is what occurs, but the original reason it was given that name was to keep the standard full moon names from getting out of whack.

There are 12 full moons in a standard year (three for every season), however roughly every 2.5 years there are 13 moons, giving four full moons in one season.  When this happens, the third full moon in a season with four is called the 'blue moon'.

So when's the next one?  Not until 2015.  But at least that's not as long a wait as the next Transit of Venus.  And in 2018 there will be 14 full moons: two each in January and March.  Poor February loses out and won't have a full moon at all - the trouble with having a short month!  Were you out moon-gazing last night?  I hope you had good weather for it.

New Zealand - Saying Goodbye to Franz Josef Glacier

One thing about New Zealand weather is it's changeable nature.  The various mountain ranges cause a vast difference in weather patterns within a few kilometres.  These two photos below are a good example.  The first is taken near the base of Franz Josef, looking west as the river winds its way out to the Tasman Sea.  You couldn't ask for prettier blue skies.

I don't much like that there are a bunch of tourists in my photo (just as I'm in theirs!), but they do give a sense of scale; showing the size of this flat, broad valley that is typical of one formed by a glacier.  Valleys caused by rivers are V-shaped.

Here we have one last look back at the glacier before taking the trail back to the carpark.  There was a bit of a storm brewing over the mountains, giving us the push needed to get back on our journey south. The stream in the foreground is from the waterfall you can see on the left of the photo above.  Notice that it's your standard, clear water and not the milky colour of the glacial river shown above.

Franz Josef used to fill the valley as far as the scrub line in this photo.  As you can see, it's receded quite considerably.  But before you go all 'global warming!' on me, the glacier has gone through several periods of growing and receding over the past 260-odd years.  

In 1750 it filled the valley well beyond where the river disappears around the corner in the top photo and over the next 150 years, it slowly shrank back to the scrub line.  From around 1910-1990 Franz Josef experienced a roughly 20 year cycle of advance and retreat.  In 2000 it advanced significantly, to about as far as you can see in the top photo.

I remember a time when you could put a stick in the ground at the base of the glacier at the start of the day  and by night the stick would be swallowed up in ice.  Franz Josef may be a shadow of his former glory, but he's well capable of marching his way back down the mountain.  He's done it before.

For more in the New Zealand series, click HERE

New Zealand - Glacier Melt

Leading out from the base of Franz Josef Glacier is an ice-melt river.  The water colour is like nothing I've ever seen in a waterway; it was a grayish milk.  In places you can see chunks of ice - that water is cold!  At the start it is a small stream, but as it runs a path to the sea, it merges with waterfalls and other glacier melt rivers.  This photo is taken at the very foot of Franz Josef.  Pressure and friction cause the bottom of the glacier to heat up, melting some of the ice and forming the start of the river.

Here below is a photo I took with a faster shutter speed so you can see exactly how the actual river looks.  This is not a black & white photo - it's full colour!

For more in the New Zealand series, click HERE

New Zealand - Franz Josef Glacier

From subtropical to glacial - New Zealand has it all.  Roughly halfway down the west coast of the South Island is Franz Josef Glacier.  An easy and pretty 30 minute hike takes you to the foot of the glacier, which pushes its way out of the majestic Southern Alps range.

The immense scale of the glacier (of which we only see the very bottom) is not apparent even when standing at the base looking up.  It's only when you spot a group of people taking a guided tour onto the glacier that you realise how big it is.  Do you see them?  The first group is in the middle of the lower section of ice (roughly where the lower right Rule of Thirds lines cross) and the second, smaller group is further down, to the right.

Below we have a close up of the glacier.  The ice has cracked and formed crevasses under the immense pressure from further up.  What surprised me most was how astonishingly blue the ice is.

For more in the New Zealand series, click HERE

New Zealand - West Coast Streams and Waterfalls

A lot of rain makes for beautiful rainforests and an abundance of streams, rivers and waterfalls.  The trail out to Franz Josef Glacier leads through native bush and alongside waterways such as this one below.

For more in the New Zealand series, click HERE