We woke with the threat of rain hanging over us as we followed the road south on Highway 6, enjoying (as ever) the deep valleys and green swathes of trees decking out the mountain ranges and with the beautiful Kahurangi National Park and the Marion Mountains to our North as we stopped for brunch in the township of Murchison - were this America it'd probably be called a Frontier town - all the townships we've passed through have been like this on a bigger or smaller scale, with one main road slipping between shops, cafes and restaurants and the rest of the town built back from that.
Unlike home. where the trucks spend 90% of their time on the Motorways, the innumberable trucks we've seen here have only the single lane highways. And roughly a quarter of all traffic is the trucks and a big percentage of them are logging trucks, heading one-way fully loaded with two trailers, or the other with the trailers doubled up. It all seems locally felled with swathes of hillside cut back in rows and tiny pines already planted amidst the lines of their much older brothers and sisters.
After Murchison the severe weather forecasted yesterday evening kicked in in a torrential way, and between my random pullovers at the side of the road to take photos (all the best shots are still being missed thanks to a lack of appropriate stopping places) and the thick and persistent rain Laura's nerves were shot to pieces. We raced against the weather westwards, chasing the Baller River to the sea with the dense vegetation now taking on a columbian feel ala the film Romancing the Stone.
Fingers of cloud spread over the hidden peaks throughout, like tendrils of some grey monster and even as the Highway turned south, around the Paparoa National Park the rain began to let up, but now we could see the Tasman sea beating against the ravaged shore, thousands of years of tearing against sand and cliff creating a jagged appearance to the many points and bluffs.
And 50KM from Greymouth this is no more evident that at Punakaiki and Pancake Rocks where westerly swells have eaten away at the limestone cliffs. We weren't there at the right time to see the blowhole in action, but at least the rain cleared for us to enjoy the bizareness of Dolomite Point.
Unlike home. where the trucks spend 90% of their time on the Motorways, the innumberable trucks we've seen here have only the single lane highways. And roughly a quarter of all traffic is the trucks and a big percentage of them are logging trucks, heading one-way fully loaded with two trailers, or the other with the trailers doubled up. It all seems locally felled with swathes of hillside cut back in rows and tiny pines already planted amidst the lines of their much older brothers and sisters.
After Murchison the severe weather forecasted yesterday evening kicked in in a torrential way, and between my random pullovers at the side of the road to take photos (all the best shots are still being missed thanks to a lack of appropriate stopping places) and the thick and persistent rain Laura's nerves were shot to pieces. We raced against the weather westwards, chasing the Baller River to the sea with the dense vegetation now taking on a columbian feel ala the film Romancing the Stone.
Fingers of cloud spread over the hidden peaks throughout, like tendrils of some grey monster and even as the Highway turned south, around the Paparoa National Park the rain began to let up, but now we could see the Tasman sea beating against the ravaged shore, thousands of years of tearing against sand and cliff creating a jagged appearance to the many points and bluffs.
And 50KM from Greymouth this is no more evident that at Punakaiki and Pancake Rocks where westerly swells have eaten away at the limestone cliffs. We weren't there at the right time to see the blowhole in action, but at least the rain cleared for us to enjoy the bizareness of Dolomite Point.
2 comments:
I think the piccies you are taking are brilliant despite the weather and lack of "pullover" spots. Hope to see lots more when you get back, (poor you)!
Cheers to both of you, Pat
You can thank Laura for all the pics on the blog - my camera won't allow us to upload any of mine until we get home. But doesn't she take a great piccy? :)
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