This Past weekend, Kelly his girlfriend Sam, and our buddy Ryan saddled our road stallions and took “Ruby” my new 1985 Toyota Hiace for her maiden voyage. After a long week of working on the finer details of bike handling pounding DH laps, pedaling at 7 Mile, and dirt jumping, we decided it best to hit the road. Plus I needed to test the waters with my latest purchase.
Bikes, sleeping bags, wet suits, and surf boards what more could one need. From Inland to Ocean. A Three and a half hour drive is a cake walk back in Canada but here in New Zealand we like to take things a little slower. As we travel, Lay-overs are a nessecity, but unlike most ours are filled with plenty of flight time. The Frew Farm, 1200 acres that 20 000 head of sheep and cattle, and the infamous “Farm Jam” call home. The Frew Brothers have transformed a small portion of the family farm into a Freestyle compound. FMX lines amidst fields of dumbfounded wool heads, dirt jumps and wood ramps shaped from the green hills imported from Ireland… It’s an action sport playground.
We spent the day lacing laps through the dirt Jumps with a crew of consisting of Aussy, Kiwi’s, and even a few fellow North Americans. Sam shot photos as the boys threw down Tail-whips, cork flips, 3’s, all touting a large sachel of steeze (this guy even threw a few backward sumersaults). A Quality session! As the sun hit high sky tide, we had to pull the pin on session and take refuge in Frew Farm Creek. Because every farm has to have a Creek right?
Wrapping up at the farm we rallied to catch a beachside sunset, which we just missed. But no matter how you slice it, Beers on the Beach is a proper way to end any day. We set up shop on the shore, scavenged firewood, and made a night of it.
We had planned to surf in the morning but with the swell barely over-head for Ants we had to change our plans. So Ryan, Kelly, and Sam made the call to claim ourselves a Paua dinner. Wet suit clad and all sorts of uncomfortable Ry and Kelly walked me through the motions of bring home the sea bacon. My first of many issues is the fact that Paua’s look exactly like the rocks. For a Canadian kid who has an infants worth of experience in the Ocean made this hurdle a tough one. It’s hard to catch something you can’t see. I would dive to the bouldered bottom with Kelly, spastically squeeze myself between rocks in search of these ellusive suckers, and come up with nothing. Meanwhile Kelly who I am right beside comes up with 3 monsterous shells housing what looks to be a lubricated pissed-off black licorice stuffed in a shell. Finally after 45 minutes of playing the roll of a blind fisherman I bring a battle cry and an undersized Paua to the surface. Feeling like Such a man! haha. My tally by the end of the morning was a solid 2 (count it), 8 short of my quota, so Ryan picked up the slack. Kelly was on the same pace, and Sam brought home her first, so it was Great Success!
With No surf, Paua’s on ice, we hit the fish and chip shop, and made the 4 hour trek back to Queenstown were we ended to the day with a hard earned Sea Food Feast.