Behind the Falls
Nearing the end of the trail on the Brazil side of the falls, a glimpse behind the water. This perspective is from the top left corner of the Devil’s Throat photo.
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The Mouth
The beginning of the falls, at the top of the “Devil’s Throat.”
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Tiers
Looking through the trees on the Brazil side of the falls. The rightmost side of the walkway at the top is where On The Edge was taken.
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Sunset Falls
People departed. Tour boats stopped. Just the roar and the early evening sun over this massive ring of waterfalls.
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Double Falls
A pair of “tiny” waterfalls near the end of the main trail in Iguazu National Park. With hundreds of falls in the park spilling millions of gallons of water per minute, it’s easy to overlook these tiny cascades as afterthoughts.
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On the Edge
Looking west toward the Brazil side of the falls.
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Lit Stream
A stream through the Gunpowder Falls State Park.
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Epilogue: The Longest Summer
I ride a school bus every morning now. Again. A big yellow one. With green vinyl seats you peel yourself off of in hot weather. With the fold-out STOP sign. With the flashing lights. With the windows that only slide halfway down, enough to only tease riders about relief from the stifling environs. But my lunch hasn’t been stolen (yet), so things are still good.
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Upward Bound
Having acquired some kind of cold in Marrakech, I’ve started to cough. I hoped that good food and the warm air would snuff it out before it (and I) became a nuisance. No such luck. I awake today to begin a two-day mountain trek with a full-blown hacking cough.
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Is This Van Going to Asni?
After the insanity of Marrakech, our first stop is the village of Imlil. Because, when in a hot, desert country, what better a thing to do than climb a mountain without any of the appropriate equipment?
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Leavin, on a jet plane…
As I write this from an internet cafe in Auckland, I am awaiting lunch, awaiting my bus to the airport, awaiting my flight home (fingers crossed for a cancellation). New Rule: Buses loaded with Japanese tourists, faces pressed to the glass, all holding cameras (some holding two), can appear at any time, in any location.
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The Road to Mount Doom
It began this morning in Taupo with a 5 am wakeup call for the bus ride to Tongariro National Park. The bars were still bumping and thumping with New Year’s festivities, but I suited up with cold weather gear, attempting to be prepared for the Tongariro Crossing, billed as New Zealand’s most spectacular one-day walk.
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Ready and Abel
Abel Tasman National Park has golden beaches and water so clear that kayaks in shallow water simply appear to be floating in space. I bask in the sun and climb some of the 57 km of trails that wind and twist through dense trees. I wander beaches and explore tiny side trails.
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Grounded
The miserable cold and rainy weather of last night is still in full force this morning. It doesn’t look good for heli-hiking. I figured that I would destroy my budget and take the rare opportunity to go on an absolutely extravagant excursion (as if this trip wasn’t already).
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Postcard from civilization
It’s been some time since there’s been internet access and an equally long while since things like paved roads, gas stations and towns with populations in the triple digits. We reach the relative metropolis of Fox Glacier by midnight, despite our little car fiasco.
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Your karma just ran over my dogma
Two hours from Christchurch, through low, grass-covered hills, we swing around a bend. The road stretches out across a massive plain of grass and flowers and sparse trees, sliced in two by the grey road — a straight shot that stretches out until it disappears at the base of the Southern Alps.
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