Mount Cook
Was supposed to take the Trans-Alpine Express--on their website the call it TranZ-Alpine, like they from da hood--but that got cancelled, which is fine, I’m no longer a train traveler, certainly not for more than a couple of hours. Where’s the airport? Oh, it’s a float plane? Okay, where’s the dock?
When I looked at the map I saw that Mt. Cook was almost directly west of Christchurch, which I thought was weird, until I noticed how the South Island diagonals its way further south. . . yes, I’m a map geek, that’s what my degree is in, after all. But because I was merely flying over it--way too cold for the likes of me right now--I didn’t have to worry about programming the GPS or navigating from the passenger seat. But isn’t it weird how I get all freaked out on towers but I’m okay with little float planes? Also very weird, at least to me, was how high this mountain looks--maybe all the snow made it seem that way, and it does kinda tower over all the others--but it really isn’t any higher than the “hills” surrounding the LA basin, even those on fire. Probably the most fun shot I took from the plane was of a glacier slicing its way through the very green bush, like a huge white tongue. I loved that imagery so much that I. . . okay, I need some further inspiration there, but something will come to me!
By the way, the local name for Mt. Cook is “Cloud Piercer”--so much more poetical than simple English. I did get to spend a few hours at Hermitage Village, which has some amazing hikes from which to shoot the mountain and some wildlife, but soon enough it was time to get back on the plane and head off to the west coast, actually flying due north to get to the starting point of the long drive along the coast.
