For those that have been paying attention, we abandoned our planned three day hike and instead holed up in a four star hotel to enjoy the best that Queenstown had to offer. At least it was supposed to be relaxing, well according to the brochure that is. But us being us, we had other ideas. What is the point, after all, of being in Queenstown if you’re not going to get out there and see what there is to see? So, inevitably, we found ourselves getting kitted up at 8:00am (which is much later than typical for us in case you were wondering) and heading off down the road towards the trail head.
Now at this point I feel that I should point out that we hadn’t had our usual pre-hike breakfast. We would’ve normall enjoyed a breakfast of porridge but out hastily organsised hotel room didn’t have the equipment needed to prepare a batch of steaming gloopy goodness. Instead we resorted to cold cereal served up in a hotel room mug, washed down with tea and the left-overs of last night’s chocolate. Well it was either that or pay the extortionate price for a bacon butty in the hotel restaurant. Not happening!
It was a lovely day for a walk - the sky was relatively clear, the temperature was gentle and the humidity was non-Auckland like. Plus, there was not a soul around despite it being the last weekend of summer, or the first of Autumn depending upon your disposition. If there was any doubt that this was the last hurrah for the summer season, there was a slight crispness to the air and selected trees were signalling the arrival of the cooler season as pockets of golden reds and hues of deep brown interrupted the otherwise still green canopy.
The objective for today was the peak of Ben Lomond. Despite the disorientating name, Ben Lomond is a New Zealand classic was named after Ben Lomond in Scotland by the early shepherd Duncan McAusland. The summit lies approximately 4 km northwest of the town centre, and reaches a height of 1,748 metres, over 750m taller than its northern namesake. Being only a 7km hike from the centre of Queenstown, it is one of those rare New Zealand mountains that is with easy reach within a day. Obviously ‘easy’ is an subjective term as it is a constant uphill hike from the lake level. Actually that’s not entirely true, there is a brief period of respite once you reach the saddle but it’s short-lived and pretty soon you the path kicks upwards towards the summit.
Unfortunately today, despite the early clear skies and sunshine, the weather had closed in as we climbed the last kilometre to the top. Not a complete white out but only occasional glimpses of Lake Wakatipu could be seen as banks of cloud swirled around the peak. The curse of the hill walker I suppose - I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve set off towards a summit in cloudless skies only to find myself swatted in fog with a few hundred metres of the top. Then, just to add insult to injury, it’s not unusual for the blanket to lift once were off the hill. Yes Skiddaw! I’m looking at you!. Anyway, the arrival of scattered clouds hadn’t put people off making the push to the summit and as the last corner was rounded and final boulder negotiated, a small group came slowing into view. I recognised the grounds actions immediately; they were looking for the best spot to take the celebratory photograph and decidng which was the least windy spot to have lunch.
It wasn’t just people that had decided to perch on the summit. As well as ten or some humans, and inquisitive Kea had decided to take a look around and see what was on offer.
The Kea in its natural environment is an impressive sight as tese endangered birds are about the size of a small cat with dark green plumage and the occasional flashes of red as they flap their wings. And they are not shy, not in the slightest. In fact, this particual Kea had already spotted a potential source of food and was making advances towards the part open backpack of a young woman.
“Oh wow! They are so cute!,” she exclaimed to her friend and started to fumble in her pocket for presumably her camera phone.
“Watch them,” I advised before helpfully adding, “they’re sneaky!”
No sooner were the words out of my mouth when there was a shriek from the young woman, “Hey! That’s my lunch”
Right on cue, the not-so-cute-now Kea had prized open the rest of the backpack and picked up a silver foil parcel in its beak. The woman made a dash to grab it back but it was too late. The Kea flapped to the rock ledge and began dismantling the wrapper to see what spoils he had managed to grab for himself. A tuna and sweet corn sandwich as we were soon to find out.
The precision with which the bird opened the parcel was impressive. What was even more impressive was the way in which it laid out the ingredients into groups; the bread on one side, tuna in the centre and the sweet corn off to the right. Well I thought it was impressive. The woman who was going to have to contemplate walking back down on an empty stomach had other feelings. Her walking companion tried to save the day and threw a piece of her banana towards the delighted bird, presumably as a decoy whilst her friend tried to retrieve what was left of her lunch. Which was not a lot by this point. Anyway, it didn’t work - the Kea are far too intelligent for human tricks like that. Fleet of feather, the bird hopped to one side, grabbed the banana and threw it towards his pile of food. He had just addded dessert to his already sumptuous meal.
“I think that bird is also going to have to walk down,” remarked another summit companion, “not sure he’ll be able to take off after eating all that food!”
Even an attempted poke at the pile of food with a walking pole wasn’t enought to deter the bird. All that accomplished was to retrieve the aluminium foil and what crumbs were still attached to the wrapper.
It was either pity or the concern for a fellow hiker that prompted others to offer food from their now firmly closed backpacks. There was no way the mountain parrot was going to make a fool out of them. Well not today anyway!
Me? I sat with my back to the mountain top survey marker and finished the rest of my ham and cheese sandwich, all the while keeping a beady eye on out feathered friend. Never turn your back on a Kea, especially when there is food to be had. Although I’d only been in New Zealand a relatively short amount of time, and hadn’t spent that long in the mountains, I knew enough to be wary of the cheeky bleeders. I had already seen, a year or so previously, footage of a group of Keas remove the rubber from car windscreen wipers, remove aerials and work together to get access to supposedly fastened wheelie bins. Grabbing a sandwich from a part-open bag was child’s play in comparison.
The ease and speed with which the bird got his morning snack was impressive but did make me wonder how on earth they were endangered. Certainly, on the evidence this morning, not due to the lack of food so one can only assume it’s from a loss of habitat as human activity expands into what was once wilderness. And with those thoughts in my head, I started the slow decent back to Queenstown. Happy to have made it to the top of Ben Lomond but equally happy to have been able to eat my lunch without it being lost to a more cunning and clever foe.
Within a couple of hours we were once again in our favourite lakeside bar and reflecting on a great day in the mountains and marvelling at the ingenuity of nature. Well elements of it anyway!
“What would you like to drink?,” Sarah asked.
“A pint of Mischevious Kea of course!” came the reply.
Guess that's sweetcorn left so maybe a tin of sweetcorn is the lunch to have!? :-)
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