Follow the red line. 
The start of Franz Joseph glacier. 
Insert Oooooh and Aaaaah here. 
The Girls: Sue, Sandy, Katrina. 
The Guys: Paul, Joe, Kyle. 
Franz Joseph from the ground, walking in. Fun Day. 
This is the Rakaia River at what is known as Rakaia Gorge. The water was so blue with glacial silting and the sky was so shockingly blue that day that my camera refused to filter the light properly. 
Merino Sheep with a nice back drop. This was just prior to the summit of Arthur's Pass, one of three routes from the East Coast to the West Coast. This is what the majority of the west coast is like in the high country.
Going down Arthur's Pass towards Greymouth. Note the vegetation change. 
A typical New Zealand bridge. There are high numbers of one lane bridges. Some are up to a mile long and have pull outs to accommodate unexpected meetings. This particular bridge is shared by cars, trains, bus traffic, foot traffic and the occasional sheep or cattle herd. Hence why speeding doesn't work here.
Out of Greymouth, heading towards Punakaiki.
Pancake Rocks and home of the famous Blow Holes. Unfortunately they were not blowing. The tide was out. The earth here is riddled with caves and vents that allow the ocean in. Wave action forces air and water out of the vents with extreme force making for spectacular geysers. Or so we were led to believe...because we didn't see it. "The tide waits for no man" by someone somewhere....
This is a Weka. It is a flightless, fearless bird about the size of a small chicken. I offended this particular Weka by evidently making seductive noises to his little lady hiding in the bush. He charged me, swore profusely, jumped up and bit me on the finger. Guess that will teach me to not flirt with another birds girl. 
The sun setting into the Tasman Sea in Okarito.
We stayed in the house on the left. This is Okarito. This was definitely a nice sight to wake up to in the morning.
This was just the beginning.
This plaque inset into the trail head speaks for itself. Stewart Island is for the most part a true wilderness. However from a naturalists perspective, I was disappointed with the huge expense of time and money that goes into the trail systems and huts. It definitely detracted from the overall wild aspect that I kept hearing about when talking about Stewart Island. Granted, I did not get much opportunity to trek into the interior. We only spent one day hiking the actual interior. The rest of the time was spent near the fringe or on coasts. 
This was the last day I think? Hot and sweaty with a thunderstorm brewing. 
Halfway point of day two? Night was to be spent on that particular bay just visible to the center right of the large inlet in the distance. 
Nothing like a map to tell you where you are not vs where you thought you were. Discombobulation in the jungle is rather easy. 
Just one of thousands of cool trees and scenes. 
Me harvesting Cockles. The shell that I have in my hand is a scallop. I threw it back. In the bag are Cockles. Clam like bi-valves that are absolutely delicious. I ate Cockles, Katrina ate mussels. This was by far the best meal I have had in New Zealand. Fresh picked off of the rocks. 
One of many continuous beds of mussels. Delicious. 
King of the Cockle shell. Yet again, this area was a shell hunters delight. I didn't pick more then one or two total though. Extra weight on an extended back country backpacking trip just isn't quite in the cards. 
Nice contrast. Low tide. We camped just over that hill. 
Just another attempt at something different. 
Last day. Storm moving in. We got back into town just after it started raining. Typical weather forecasts stated that it would be nice for our ferry ride back to the mainland. Yeah...that was a crock of crap. That night a gale hit and the ferry crossing the next day royally sucked. I make a very poor sailor. Our poor little ferry (I was too busy trying not to puke to take photos) was definitely pushing it. I estimate that the swells didn't get smaller then 10 ft tall and were more along the lines of an average of 14 to 16 feet. Half the boat was sea sick. The other half wanted to be. I have no idea how I survived the crossing without getting sick. This was a great tramp. I would have loved to spend another week on the island...but my feet, Katrina's job and the lack of proper equipment and food for hardcore backpacking sort of dictated that we needed to head back to the real world. 
