Blackfoot Fell on Her Head

Or at least that is the assumption that I have to go by based on the continuing and blatant lies that have become all too common on her blog. The logical conclusion that I reached is that at some point during the course of our two days of caving, or our three days of trekking or even sometime at the airport or while SCUBA diving, poor Jane must have fallen on her skull and anything resembling a factual account of our trip to New Zealand might have tumbled out of that hole in her eardrum.

Here is the Jane Conrad "Fair and Balanced" account of our conversation preceding our kayaking adventure:

"...Neither of us had ever kayaked before (although Rich lied to me and said he did - which is why I made the reservation!)..." (source: www.xanga.com/Mr_mephisto Captain and Raccoon Kayak Through Abel Tasman April 24, 2006)

Let me take a moment to explain how the conversation really went:

Jane: Would you be interested in kayaking?
Rich: Sure, that seems great.
Jane: Should we get a guide?
Rich: I don't know, do we need one?
Jane: Well, you kayaked before, right?
Rich: No.
Jane: (laughs) Yea, OK.
Rich: (kinda boggled as to why that is funny) Do you think we do a lot of kayaking in Brooklyn?
Jane: Whatever, you can just teach me what to do.

(Later at the Kayak place)

Steve: So, either of you guys ever kayak before?
Rich: Nope.
Jane: Wait, I thought you said that you HAD?!?
Rich: No, you're confused. You said that I had, I said that I hadn't.
Jane: I thought you were kidding?!?

Ladies and gentlemen, THIS is why I will really NEVER understand ANYTHING that has a second x chromosome.

Now, I will be fair, aside from that initial "No, I don't know how to do it" I did not continuously protest Jane who was so adamantly doubtful of my inability. I am known for oftentimes going into something that I had never done before (which may or may not be potentially fatal to the inexperienced) with a "how hard could it be?" or "what's the worst that could happen?" (famous last words, as Nash would say.) Still, I am always upfront about my inexperience, though perhaps overconfident in my abilities or safety at times.

So, Blackfoot is a libelous scoundrel. That being said, it is a good thing that we were guided.


Ok, so here is where we were. You'll recall that we finally reached Abel Tasman on day 5 of the trip. Somehow despite being delayed for one day in Narita, and taking two days to bus, ferry, and hitch hike from the North to the South Island we were still perfectly on schedule and ready to start the three day trek through Abel Tasman.

Abel Tasman is a beautiful...BEAUTIFUL (read: most beautiful place I have ever been to, ever) coastal park. I won't get too involved in describing it here, however, as there are plenty of pictures and stories to come. Anyway, the coastal path we were planning on taking was about 17 kilometers long. We would complete the first 5 kilometers (from Marahau to Anchorage) on day one, an we would travel via kayak.

So, with cereal bars in our stomachs and a half hour crash course on sea kayaking, we headed out to the bay with our guide, Steve.

Now, a brief word about Sea Kayaking. This is not kayaking in a bay or a lake or someplace where you maintain the option to stop rowing for a bit and relax. When you are Sea Kayaking, you have a lot more to worry about such as cutting through waves that go over the top of the kayak, getting swept out further than you would hope to be, and when you are fortunate enough to paddle around shallow water, there is always the hazard of jagged rocks that make life more interesting.

Of course, this is not necessarily to say it is an extremely dangerous sport either. Under the right conditions, the occasional "stop for a second to bob around" is permitted. Under the right conditions, once you get through an initial set of waves, a rhythmic paddle with light to medium cadence is sufficient to keep you in control.

We, however, were kayaking in conditions that could be best euphamized as "less than ideal," or more realistically stated as "insane." Unbeknownst to our guide, there was a swell and water was a rough. During the day of kayaking, for 5 kilometers, we had to row at full force, maintaining enough speed to control the boat. Also, to avoid being swept back to the jagged rocks lining the shore and the base of the cliffs of Abel Tasman, we had to do much of the rowing out to sea.

We stopped twice, one to prepare, and one to recover. For and from what? The Mad Mile. The Mad mile is a bluff named as such because for approximately one mile there is no place wheresoever to stop. The specific course between Marahau and Anchoage is spotted with tiny beaches that are completely inaccessible except for by boat. During kayaking, if one were to get overwhelmingly tired, there is always at least the option to make it to one of these beaches to rest for a few moments. We were not granted this luxury as with the conditions that day, stopping to rest would almost be counter productive. The amount of energy that would have to be exerted in order to brake through the wake line again and make it back out after stopping on a beach would have negated the entire rest period.

Before the Mad Mile, however, we stopped to rest for a bit. Steve gave us a small snack and some juice to re-energize. After some time, we were ready to take on the Mad Mile.

The moniker Mad Mile certainly was apt, I tell you... APT! In order to make it around the bluff, we had to paddle out far then cut across it. The plan was to stop for lunch at a beach right after the Mad Mile. You would think that while heading back to shore we could just coast and let the waves bring us in. Yes, logic would support such a theory, however somehow that was strangely not the case and we had to continue the heavy rowing back to shore. It seemed ridiculous, kinda like having to walk up hill to come back down the mountain. Once we made it back though, we flopped down on the tiny secluded beach and ate the yummy sandwiches that Steve had brought along. From there to Anchorage would only be another short stretch, but we needed the break. It also didn't hurt that the beach was amazing and it was a beautiful day.

Once we made it back to Anchorage, we were met by a boat who transported our hiking hear to us. Before the sun set, our tent was pitched and Jane was passed out. I watched the sunset on the beach and took some photos. Jane woke up and we made dinner before settling into the tent.

Ok, take some time to appreciate how beautiful Anchorage was.















Next time: the trek to Bark Bay.

Rex out

Interlude - Insanity

It is difficult to try to record the events of this trip while simultaneously making an effort not to post blogs that are too similar to Mephistos... then again, we were on the same trip, so with that in mind, I give you day three/four -- the adventure between adventures.

23.03.06 Early Morning.

Blackfoot wakes me up. My muscles are still sore from the previous two days. Since I left Nakano I have not allowed my body much rest. While the night before I still had a good 6 hours of sleep, it seemd strangely inadequate. I get out of bed and grab my things. I welcome the idea of a day of busses and ferrys. This day should be easy. I can catch up on sleep.

There is a problem though. As I pack my things, I am reminded of a glaring ommision from a backpack meant to accompany me on a three day hike: a sleeping bag. Our journey to Wellington requires a few transfers without even seconds to spare. We will not reach any major city until night, and by then stores will be closed. Hopefully we will run into a bit of luck otherwise the nights in Abel Tasman are going to be chilly ones.

We check out of our hostel. The girl behind the desk is little and blonde. Her name is Hailey. Blackfoot asks her where we could find camping gear. Her answer is the name of a small town that we never heard of and would never remember. Most importantly, its a small town that we will not have time to reach before our noon bus. Situation does not seem good until we get that miricle we were looking for. Hailey offers to meet us in Otoranga (which Blackfoot will call "Orangatang" for the remainder fo the trip) before our bus picks us up, and take us to a store to buy supplies. God I love this country and the people in it.

We hop in a small van that takes us from the hostel to Otoranga. The driver, Freddie, the self proclaimed "oldest living fossil in New Zealand" drove us there while sharing all maner of facts on the kiwi bird and rabbit shearing.

It is raining in Otoranga. Good, let the rain get its kicks in before we start hiking. Hailey picks us up and takes us to the store to gear up. Turns out its her day off AND she cancelled an appointment to do this. I love this country. We try to give her money for gas but she won't accept.

The bus rides down to Wellington were long, but not awful. The drivers made frequent rest stops which I could have done without. We reached Wellington a little after 8pm and had to kill time before the 3am ferry down to the South Island. The bus station is in the middle of nowhere between the city and the docks and it's raining. Big deal. Blackfoot and I don our Uniqlo raincoats (purchased as we were leaving Narita...in case) and walk towards the city.

Wellington is windy. That, plus rain and the fact that we hadn't eaten in a while, keeps us moving quickly, but with absolutely no idea about the city or where we are, an uneasy feeling sets in. I take out our lonely planet and try to look for a map that could tell us anything. As we trace the map grid, trying desperately to shield the pages from the rain and wind that had already started to tax the book, a young woman comes down the street smiling.

"You looking for somehting?" she asks? She does not speak with a Kiwi accent.
"Food" we reply. She chuckles. Unless you are flying, the ferry is the only way down to the South Island, and Wellington is the port city. If she spends a lot of time around here I'm positive she often runs into more than her share of travelers.

She is a Canadian working down in New Zealand. Nice girl, but seems like one of those high energy sort of people that you are happy to have leading you somewhere but will start to grind on your nerves as the night goes on. I never caught her name. She leads us to the city center and left us to handle ourselves. I'm not wearing a watch but its probably past ten. Still plenty of time to go. Problem is, where?

There are a number of Chinese restaurants. They look greasy, like the ones in New York. God I miss the Chinese food in New York. Could these be the same? Only one way to tell.

No. They don't have General Tso's Chicken. Unless a Chinese restaurant is familiar with the General, I am not interested.

There is a guy standing against the wall in the shadow of a convienience store smoking a cigarette. He is looking right at us and I realize that I saw him a few blocks back as well. Why is he looking at us?

Blackfoot senses it too and with a smile walks over to him.

"Hey dude, know where we can grab a bite?" She asks. While the situation did not seem to be kosher, something in my gut tells me that this guy is ok. His name is Max. He rattles off the names of a few bars and pubs and asks us if we would be interested in having a pint with him. Japan doesn't have many import beers and the ones they have are hella expensive. One of the bars he mentions is Irish. Blackfoot is on the same page as I am. We both crave the same drink we haven't tasted in far too long.

Guiness.

I always love when you are in a bar where the bartender knows how to properly pour a Guiness. The initial tip pour until the glass is slightly less than three-quarters full, then the waiting period when the drink settles and the head nearly shrinks away, then the final pour, a perpendicular blast from the tap that fills the balance of the glass with a tan froth and disturbs the blackness in the rest of the glass. If the bartender does it right, you get a perfect stout with proper head and a full body. Wrong in either direction and you are either drinking foam or Guiness juice.

The guy behind the bar knows what he is doing. First two rounds of Guinesses are on Max. I pick up the third. Max is a little crazy, but a good guy. He is from the UK and launches off into stories about how he ended up in New Zealand, helicoptors that follow him, and his various inventions. He buys the table a round of Jamesons.

Blackfoot and I realize that we still hadn't eaten. We go to a burger-king and get double bacon cheeseburger meals. We go to another bar and keep drinking until it is time to catch the ferry.

24.03.06 Somewhere in Between Dreams.

On the ferry we find a comfortable room on the upper deck. We take our sleeping bags and crash out. At 6am we arrive in Picton on the South Island.

Our journey is no where near to being over. Picton is on the eastern side of the south island, but we have to head west towards Nelson, so at 6am we hold out our thumbs to hitch a ride across the island.

It is not too long before an old SUV car pulls over. The driver is tall and his shoes are untied. I wonder for a second if he is too tall and cannot reach his laces. Jane hops in the back amidst tons of machine parts and equipment. I sit shotgun. The song "Go to Sleep lil Baby" from O Brother Where Art Thou? is playing. The man is hurried, he is on his way to work. He is a research scientist working on developing biodesiel as an alternative for fossil fuels. He drives us to an intersection near a convienence store and heads to work.

We wait longer this time for another driver. Another SUV pulls over, this one is also old. The driver is stocky with unruly white hair and a large nose. He clears aside some antique books and helps Jane put her bag in the car. I put mine in as well. He is running late for work and hurries us into his car. We are underway and he talks a lot which is fine because he is interesting. He is an archeologist studying the Maori. He tells us the story of an orange cat named "Fatty," his daughter who playes golf, and a toilet in Abel Tasman that engulfs you in orange sunlight as you are eliminating. Midway through a story a car cuts into the road and the Archeologist lets out a string of curses that would make Dice blush.

He drops us off on a road outside of Havelock (the green-shelled mussel capital of the world). We are halfway to Nelson. We wait for over two hours on the side of a road that is as busy as a sex shop near a church. For two hours we sit and wait. A car pulls up. No luck they are just pulling a U-turn and felt that pulling oveer next to tired hitchikers would be fine. Other cars pass pretending not to see us or give an apologetic nod.

The problem with our current location is that if we do not get picked up we are screwed. There is nothing for miles. We try not to lose faith but it is becoming harder not to. Another car pulls in. It is nice, we don't even bother getting up, it can't be for us. A young girl pokes her head out of the car.

"You guys need a ride or not?"

We get in the car. Her friend (or sister) is around the same age and sits shotgun. The trunk is small and can only fit Jane's bag. I put mine on my lap and we squeeze into the back seat. The passenger offers us beer and potato chips. I take stock of my situation. Two young girls pick up hitchikers and offer them beer and chips...and they say movies are not realistic.

It turns out the driver was a single mother. After about a half hour of driving, she pulls over. The car is overheating and she has to pour cold water over the engine. We sit for a while until the car cools off. She drives us the rest of the way to Nelson. We force her to take gas money




Nelson is a beautiful town. It reminds me of the Hamptons. We plan out our three days in Abel Tasman and get some falafel. I pick up a Maori pendent. It is a bone hook, a water sign that provides protection for travelers. We find our Hostel, and prepare food and supplies for our next three days in Abel Tasman.

The Uneasy Alliance Continues

Sorry for the lask of posts. I got back from New Zealand to find that my computer was sick and needed to be sent to the computer doctor. Apparently the old addage "an apple a day keeps the doctor away" is not applicable if you yourself are an Apple.

And for all of you PC naysayers who want to take this opportunity to give me shit about saying how great macs are, save it. In 6 years this is the FIRST problem i have ever had, and it's a hardware problem at that. On top of it, Apple picked up my computer... in JAPAN, whisked it away to fix it, and returned it FIXED within TWO days. I am curious how many PC manufacturers would do the same.

Did I mention that they picked up my computer... from my doorstep... in JAPAN?!?

Anyhow, internet at work has been down as well, AND my phone was disconnected (since New Zealand completely depleated my finds, I have been broke like a joke, until tomorrow, PAYDAY!!!!)

Needless to say, I have been completely cut off from all communication with anyone who lives outside my cell phone's service area. To the untrained eye, it may seem like this is just another lame excuse for why I don't update my blog often enough, but thats why God invented eyeglasses.

Anywhom, onward with tales from New Zealand. After the first day and our initial absailing adventure we were beat. Whoever said that absailing (same thing as rappelling, except rappelling is the French word and absail is the German word) was easy is 1) a dirty lying sinner, and 2) would DEFINATELY not be able to cut it on what we did the following day: the Lost World.

Lake, if you are reading this, you would best understand how I am about to rate this thing... this was something on par with riding around the desert on an ATV and drinking tea with bedouins. We hiked to a secluded area where the cave entrance was. On the way, we had a few opportunities to look down into the area surrouding the cave entrance through holes called the "window" and the "chimney". This was the lost world. The view looking down in was amazing, you basicly see another wooded area with trees and a river flowing, but 100 meters underground, like something out of a science fiction novel about an underground civilization.



We eventually reached the absail site, a nice bar holding a rope which we would clip on for our 100 meter descent. Now, I love a god adventure, and God knows I'm not really afraid of dying, but there is something humbling about the experience of lowering yourself 100 meters with no more than a quick instructions on technique to go by. Of course, we did it and once we reached the bottom, we relaxed by the river of this beautiful underground world and had some lunch.




(Jane and I dangling 100 meters, about to begin the absail)






Now here is where I really didn't think things through. They packed more than enough lunch for everyone, but most of the people had what they could eat leaving many leftovers, which of course we didn't want to lug through the caves. Everything needed to be eaten, and of course human trash compactor that I am I took care of the rest. After about 4 sandwiches, a quart of milk, and a box of cookies, I started a 7 hour hike/swim/climb, all the while combating some icky tummy.


(maybe if I ate less, it would have not been so hard to squeeze through there.)


The only diwnside to how extreme this thing was is that I couldn't take any pictures. At first I scoffed at their rule saying that I cannot bring in a camera, however in truth at NO POINT in the 7 hours was there more than a moment or two when I had two hands free enough to snap a photo. Moreover there was no place to safely tuck dangle or attach a camera without it being thwacked against rocks and such. This was not a walk in the park by any means... no seriously, we were in a cave (aren't you paying attention?)

Fortunately though, one of the guides was slightly more experienced than Jane and I were and had a camea onhand for the occasional shot.

Ok, so we entered the cave and right away got soaked... so it would be THIS kind of a cave, eh? After wading through a river for a while, we had to walk around behind a waterfall to the otherside. Sounds easy? Well, had this been one of those new fancy caves with halogen lighting, central air and a starbucks inside it may have been, but this was just an old fashioned cave so it was dark as a mofo save the tiny lamp on our helmets. Needless to say navagating in the dark through an extremely narrow passageway with cold water cascading on your head and shoulders is not a simple task. At the end of the watefall, you find ourself completely disoriented.

One of the guides later explained that we could have made it to point B without creeping through the waterfall, but 1) that would be no fun at all and 2) that ordeal is in fact the final test before a point of no return. You see once you really get into the caves, there is no quick exit and no way out but to keep going. There are also several places where some people may not be able to squeeze through, or (if not strong or surefooted enough) could get severely injured (even die, but we'll get to that) The waterfall represents the final point where if someone is not physically or mentally fit enough to endure can turn around.

Our group was hardcore as all hell though and we all made it through. Waded for a bit further and climed up to a higher level until we reached our next task... the Jaws of Death. This was a small (and wonderfully jagged) hole in a big rock that was just large enough for a person to tuck and slip through before plummeting (about 7 meters or so) back down into the river. We all made it and went on to the next obsticle, the Witches couldron.

This was another waterfall, but much more powerful thn the first. It formed a cauldron at the base. For those of you who forget Earth Science, a Cauldron is basically a deep bowl formation at the base of a waterfall. The pressure from the waterfall creates a condition where the water spins around the formation stirring it up like a witches cauldron. Were one to be trapped in the cauldron, you would be sucked underwater and into the mix. With that degree of peril clearly explained to us, the guides explained that the next task would be to spiderwalk up the rock infront of a waterfall directly above the cauldron. One slip, and you got problems.

We all made it up there too (we had no other choice). As we continued into the cave, we passed a small hole in the roof where some sunlight came through. This hole was called "cow-hole." Why? Well, apparently on the otherside of the hole is a nice grassy mountain where coes tend to graze, and occasionally these cows will fall into the hole plummeting to their death, and giving the eels a nice steak dinner. Stupid creatures... We kept going past "cow hole" until we reached the next challenge, this being the one and only optional challenge: a cliff dive. We had to climb another waterfall, only this time, we were not climbing in front of or behind the rushing water, but head on. As with most things, there was simply no other way. We did this one at a time. After climbing, up the waterfall, I stood on a cliff over black water. Thats the fun part about swimming around in a cave, with the total lack of light all water seems to be black and abysmal. There are also submerged jagged rocks providing adequate opportunity to crack your skull open. The task was to jump off the cliff and into thefreezing black water with only the a vague point in the right direction (i.e. the guide saying "try to aim there"). Here is where props MUST be given to Blackfoot. Obviously I did it. I don't need to tell anyone that I did it, everyone recognizes I am not afraid of jumping off of things, but Jane was the ONLY woman in the group to jump off the cliff, and whats more, she joined the rest of us in pulling off a front flip. Well done Jane... clap clap.

Next was the walk through the Eels Bedroom. This is named as such because the caves are filled with eels, which are for the most part harmless. This one particular stretch, however, was a huge vault where the eels slept. We were about thigh deep in water and had to walk the far stretch using only the cave wall to guide us. It was COMPLETELY pitch black as we had to keep our lights off so as to not wake (or more importantly piss off) the eels. I think i still have scabs on my hands from that cave wall!

After all of our little missions, we were due for a short break. The caves in Waitomo are best known as the "glow worm caves" because they are filled with glow worms. Not the little glow worms that we had as kids, but the Arachnocampa Luminosa larvae. These larvae are unique to New Zealand and live pretty crappy lives. For the majority of their life, they are in the larval stage hanging off things (in humid places) glowing in order to attract prey. Their genus is Arachnocampa because of their spider-like way of using nets to trap prey. They do this until they mature and become insects which look like mosquitos. The problem, however, is that unlie mosquitoes, these buggers (get it?) have no mouths so they can't eat. They starve to death and die within a few days. So they are born, attract pray using shinyness while they mature, and then they die. Basically the bugs's entire life is puberty.

(glow worms)

So, we all climbed on some flat rocks, turned off our lamps and lied down while looking up at the glow worms. Pretty impressive, ne?

We walked out of the cave and back into daylight and a 2 kilometer hike back to HQ where a steak dinner awaited us. We toasted, shared a few laughs, returned to the hostle and slept like babies that night. As Jane pointed out, this is how fuc#*d up our jobs are... this is what we have to resort to in order to unwind!

By the way... this was only day two.

BLACKFOOT IS A SCURVY RAT!

If, perchance anyone had the chance to visit Mr. Mephisto's blog, you would have a chance to see wat sort of rotten scoundrels pirates really are! The photos of me are libelous and clearly doctored. There is ABSOLUTELY no evidence of me partaking in any sort of bubble baths, especialy a pink one at an alleged "Love Hotel." Moreover, the photos of me apparently "sleeping" with my mouth gaping open is a boldfaced lie. I would NEVER in a million years fall asleep on a bus while Jane was sitting next to and talking to me. I was clearly singing Day-o by Harry Bellafonte in that picture and Blackfoot took advantage of the occasion to discredit me. This sort of behavior only proves that pirates are not men (or women) who can be trusted!

Anyway, please allow me to humbly seperate fact from fiction here.

FACT: I took the Chuuo express to Narita airport giving me MORE than ample time to catch the flight. Meanwhile, the Narita Express which was transporting Blackfoot to the rendez-vous point was delayed. No doubt they knew that they had such a rotten scoundrel as a stow away and stopped to search the train. I told Blackfoot a million times, if she wants to live a life of sin and decadence, she should at least have the foresight to avoid mass transit.

Anyway, this was precisely the scene as I waited for her to arrive and I watched our plane to take off.

When the Salty Scourge of the Seven Seas did finally arrive, we were forced to go to Chiba to purchase new tickets. As the day of running around had us smelling pretty nasty, we sought refuge in the Peacock Love Hotel in order to take showers and a quick nap.

FACT: We did find HP in order to revive our weary selves. I traded in a crappy shield that I had found while Blackfoot (who hordes gold on every level, and won't pass a coin without picking it up) purchased some.

Blackfoot is indeed correct about one thing, if it was not for the HP, we would have never survived the night in the hostle (and f'n FREEZING) Narita airport.

Now, before I allow for Blackfoot to continue her rampage of lies, I will provide a truthful account of our arrival in auckland and our first cave dive.

Once we arrived in Auckland (via a 2 hour layover in Hong Kong), it became clear that our trials in Narita were the end of our bad luck. I still attribute all of our travel woes to the god that I apparently vexed when I left an offering most dishonorable at Fushimi Inari back in November when Julie came to visit. In any case, by the time we made it to Auckland, it was thankfully clear that the gods were through toying with me and allowed to things to go perfectly. We made it thorugh customs and straight into the city mere moments before the one and only bus leaving for Waitomo departed on its 3 hour trip.

When we arrived in Waitomo, we checked into the hostle and went to the information center to plan out our trek to South Island where we hit a brief snag. Apparently it would take over a day to travel to the South Island for our hike, and many of the busses we wanted to take were not running the days we needed them to. We only had one choice, and that was to make our cave dive that day.

Now pause for a second and re-read the past few paragrahs if you need to. Thats right, no mention of a hotel or a good night's sleep anywhere. It is still the day we arrived in NZ, and during the previous 48 hours we were in Japan (with a less than comfortable night in Narita) Hong Kong, and a total of 14 hours in a plane not to mention the bus ride to Wellington. Now the crazy lady at the information center wanted for us to spelunk on the SAME DAY? She wanted us to absail 70 meters into a hole, jump into icy black water with naught more than inner tubes to keep us afloat, crawl through tiny crevaces AND climb out alive? Was she insane? Did she think we we were idioTs???

I mean... do we LOOK like idioTs?

Well, of course we did it... the day we arrived we jumped into a cave...

Here are pictures from the first cave dive:









The hole. and Jane lowering herself into it...








A view from in the cave.








deeper = wetter











So obviously when people met Jane and I there was the initial misconception that we were dating, this misconception is usually remedied within an hour by certain behavioe. On the left is evidence of such behavior. After turning a corner and being surprised by a waterfall, I COULD have warned Jane of the impending deluge. Even after she was soaked, I COULD have laughed while offering her a hand of assistance. Of course, I did neither. Instead, I set up my camera to record the occasion. I wish I recorded a video because not only was the event funny, but the reaction of the people around us was great. I tried to explain to everyone that she would have preferred the photo anyway. I know I did.

5 hours later, we victoriously re emerged. We noshed down a quick dinner and PASSED OUT in the comfy beds of our hostel.

I'll leave it at that for now, the adventures will continue in the next post. Let's see what kind of lies that trecherous Blackfoot will come up with first.




TO BE CONTINUED...