That's what myself and Levi, a fellow guide are called by a few guys on the management team. We're the only two from the States out of 53 or so employees. Around 30% are English, 35% or so Kiwi, and the rest is a hodge podge. Just the other day when I was working at the rain-jacket station I briefly met people as they gathered their gear (which we issue them) and prepared to go out on their hike on the glacier. I met people from Brazil, Norway, Sweden, England, Australia, India, Chile, Columbia, Singapore, Jersey (the country :), Spain, Germany, Canada, The States, Holland, and Denmark. Needless to say we've found all sorts of creative ways to communicate with people about what they need, where they should go, and that we'd generally prefer that they didn't experiment with the suitability of their over-trousers for toboggans... It certainly does make the world feel a bit smaller - though it's still massive and incredibly diverse.
That's got to be one of the most rewarding aspects of this job too. We have the opportunity to take people on to a glacier that have never seen ice before - let alone snow. It's a fine line really, because we can't afford to take clients into an environment that they can't physically handle, yet that's a major aspect of guiding: we give people the confidence to safely explore terrain that they'd otherwise never set a spiked foot on... All this just continues to impress on me the importance of people in my life. What else is going to last anyways? I have a innate need to interact with others, and in the midst of that interaction, explore life and discover what legitimate reasons are for living. For me, ultimately, it's Christ alone. All this may seem a bit deep for a tour lasting only a few hours on the ice, but for me, without these types of conversations and interactions everyday tasks become satisfying and complacency takes a foothold. As Grandpa Farrier always used to say, "By the dyin' if it's worth doing it's worth doing right." :) And of course I'm going to claim he was the first to say it. :) Everybody has a story.
This is a fitting time for a new post. And what is a "blog" anyways? What kind of a name is that? Would anybody be offended if I started calling this my "Mostly one-sided unguided collection of curious and altogether random cognitive outputs via the World Wide Web"? We'll stick with blog ba blog blog for now. Rabbit trail. A fitting time for a new post because yesterday was probably my best day I've had on the ice yet. A Royal Enfield motorcycle just rode by - sounded great. I was double-guiding with AJ, what of guides that has been around the longest. He has a wealth of knowledge and experience with climbing and guiding that would put somebody very knowledgeable about climbing and guiding to shame. We had a great group and they were all quite capable on their feet so we explored some more interesting terrain in the Roberts Point Icefall. We ended up setting no less than 10 handlines (ice screw and rope) on sloped terrain as we cut steps for them. How do we cut steps you may wonder? With big ice axes with a handle like a sledge hammer and a double picked axe head a bit like the miner's tools you'd see in cartoons when you were little. The handle on mine is Rata, which is a local hardwood - I wanted something local - and it's beautiful. I'd be lying if I said I didn't occasionally spit on my hand and rub it on the wood to bring out the grain for a minute on the daily bus-ride out to the glacier... Alas, we could talk about axes for hours. Another day perhaps.
Last weekend I got to explore one of the sweeter perks of our job - there are quite a few... I got to ride in a helicopter for the first time. There's a company that shares our building with us and for heli-hikes they use our guides which is sweet because once I'm cleared I'll get to take clients on those trips occasionally. Anyways, I got to snag an open seat (FOC- Free of charge) on a 40 minute scenic flight which included a 5 minute landing on the Fox Glacier neve (snowfield above a different glacier just down the road which is about 36 square kilometers). If I just rocked up as a tourist I'd have paid $285 NZD... It was very very beautiful to say the least.
Later that day I (along with my flatmates) borrowed a car and drove as far as we could towards the coast and hike the rest of the way through the rainforest to the deserted and incredibly rugged coast. The mountains look crazy impressive too because even though Mt. Cook is "only" 12,316 feet, you're seeing ALL of that elevation - whereas in Colorado you're usually already at significant elevation when you look one of it's 53-odd 14,000 foot peaks.
Hope all is well where you guys are in the Norther Hemisphere. Hope the winter is white for ya :) Thanks for your thoughts and prayers as always.
