We decided to stay another day at Parnassus spending the earlier part of
the day cleaning the camper, inside and out; one of those annual spring-clean
type efforts, and the latter part of the day catching the second ODI cricket
match, this time in Hamilton, on radio. The reception was not great but Chris
was happy to sit with the newspaper at hand and the earplugs in. I had walked
the kilometre of so up the road to the roadhouse to purchase the newspaper and
to get some change to insert into the iron-maiden to pay for our second night.
I enjoyed my walk along the roadside, the temperatures in the
mid-twenties and the drizzly rain all gone. The toothless woman at the
roadhouse was happy to chat about the weather and suggested life would be happier
all round if it rained at night and was dry during the day, pleasing both
farmers and urbanites. She certainly was one of the sunniest natured people I
have encountered for a while.
This morning over breakfast we decided to abandon our trip further
north, or even that to the east and a circuit back through Culverden; Chris was
anxious to have the chip in the windscreen fixed this week and it was already
Friday. So instead we rang through to our insurance broker, then to the
windscreen repair folk in Rangiora to deal with practicalities rather than
matters of pleasure.
The truth of the matter, that I have been holding under my hat for some
days now, and had to until we revealed it all to our family, was that we have
put a deposit on a new motorhome and are waiting for the modifications to be
completed before we swap mobile homes. This is all terribly exciting and
probably shocking news to the children as they see their inheritance whittled
away even further, hence it was better they hear it from us rather than some
well-meaning blog follower.
And of course it is because of this that we have been diligently
beavering away getting our old faithful Winnebago ready for its new home. The vendors
have been generous on their trade and we can only hope those who wander into
their sales yard in a week or three, fall in love with this trusty old vehicle,
which has given us such joy.
So today we came back down the road travelled two days ago, the landscape
looking no greener despite that sprinkling of rain. At Rangiora, the Smith
& Smith windscreen man dealt efficiently with the small chip while we
wandered around The Warehouse and came out with even more bits and pieces. We
are supposed to be getting rid of things rather than gathering more!
We drove back to the Ashley River Bridge Reserve which we had passed on
our way into the town and enjoyed lunch and an amble across the almost dry
river bed. I suspect the Ashley is like one of these Australian “upside down
rivers” where the last of the stream runs deep below the stony bed, leaving the
odd pool to remind us what water is.
After that short burst of exercise, we returned to the town centre and
wandered up and down the main street, amid the road works and construction
fencing. Big changes are happening in Rangiora and I am sure we will see a very
different town if and when we return in say, five years.
Our next dilemma was where to spend the night and the days ahead. Chris
was keen to suss out a spot on the Waimakariri River up past Eyreton, and so
that is where we headed, zigzagging south from Rangiora on Tomtom’s
instructions. The road turned to dusty gravel, much to Chris’s horror, and came
on down through an open barrier to land labelled “Diversion” administered by
the Canterbury Regional Council. It was not clear where one should go; our
first sortie took us through scrub to join a small group who were kicking up hell
with their four wheel and scramble motorbikes.
We retreated and found another track, across a dry section of the river
bed and up on to a slightly raised area. We were just setting up when a ranger
arrived on his own four wheel motor bike, towing a trailer with 40 gallon drums
on board. He was gathering rubbish and checking the area out for both pesky
leisure seekers and the endangered bird life that has been breeding in the
braids of the river. Quentin was passionate about his conservationist roll
while still most welcoming of us. He reminded us that braided rivers only exist
in two countries on the world; here in New Zealand and in Canada. He also
warned us how these rivers can come up quickly and treacherously in seemingly
dry conditions. Rain can fall high in the mountains, even in the summer time, and
great walls of water come down changing the landscape in a nanosecond and
taking all manner of obstacles with it. He suggested another spot further
upriver, and so it here we came, after several more kilometres of dusty road,
to a small cleared tongue of land high above a bend in one of the ribbons of
the Waimakariri. From here across the gravel, perhaps three hundred metres away
are great flocks of breeding birds, many endangered.
Over eighty bird species have been recorded in the Waimakariri River bed
and on its banks. Of special interest are the native braided river birds, including
ten species of gulls, terns and waders, such as the threatened black-billed
gulls, black-fronted, white-fronted and Caspian terns, the wrybill and banded
dotterills. White-faced herons and several species of shags roost on shingle
islands or willow trees. Swamps and the saltmarsh further down river host the
threatened Australasian bittern, marshcrake, grey duck and other water fowl.
A few minutes ago a high 4WD landcruiser came down the riverbed passing
beneath us, revving and grinding and generally upsetting the natural peace of
the landscape. Then a dog ran fast upstream chasing a few gulls, endangering
them even more. The driver was heard to yell, “Jess!” come here. Jess was too
busy having fun and creating havoc to heed such calls. Finally after much
mayhem, the party moved on beyond our hearing . It is Friday night and we hope
that we are beyond park-up reach of the city hoons. Quentin did warn us about
the illegal hunters and target seekers frequent the area, to not be concerned
but to call the police if we do feel threatened. Although the gun- toters are
not interested in the likes of us, they should not be here for any reason at
all.
And as for the days ahead? We received an email from Rob at UCC advising
that work was proceeding well with our new motorhome and that all will be
complete by the end of next week. Chris reckons that it will be ready before
then so we shall be as well, even if it does means a lot of hanging about not
doing much at all.
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