Three weeks ago we journeyed to the deep south of the South Island of New Zealand. This province of Southland is a rugged, gnarly, hunkering down kind of place. It has its own special time in the sun during high summer yet the winds from Antarctica are only briefly sleeping.
Rich vegetation clings in impossible places on colossal walls of rock shrouded by mist and cascading waterfalls.
A road is like a scar in this pristine part of our land. I would love to ride through this area on a horse. It would give more time to commune with the stunning surroundings, to feel its rhythms, to hear the land breathe and to camp under the stars.