Te Papa Tongarewa Insect Exhibit

Back in April, J and I went to the Insect Exhibit at Te Papa Tongarewa. I have posted about this museum several times before, as it is the single most amazing museum I've ever been to in my life. This exhibit was no exception. It took you into the world of arthropods (insects and spiders) in a very intense way, because they made them person-sized, so it was like you were in their world.

I have to apologize in advance for the quality of many of the pictures. It was quite dusky in the exhibit, which was great for ambiance, but not impressive for photography.

The exhibit was organized into different pods, each of which celebrated a different insect. This grassy one was about dragonflies in a pond, and you felt like you were tiny and walking amongst tall marsh grasses as you went in.

The dragonfly exhibit had this sign by the entrance, which made me laugh. The strobe light effect inside to demonstrate the amazing speed of dragonfly flight was impressive, but not photographable.

This praying mantis was about 10 feet tall, and you can see why it's a threatening predator! I would run away! It is impressively camouflaged among the orchids, and hard to see unless revealed by this UV light.

In one of the many child-friendly interactive activities, there was a large picture of orchids, and the challenge was to find the praying mantises. It was very difficult to do so...

... until you used the UV flashlights they provided, and then they would seem to jump out at you! I was somewhat confused by the use of UV light, as I couldn't see the connection between UV and praying mantises, but J says it was just an effect to help you see how they can be right in front of you without you seeing them. It was very effective.

This jewel wasp is hard to see, because it blends into the background of this pod, which is inspired by its iridescent colours. But if you look carefully, you can see that it is injecting the cockroach with magic zombie-poison under its chin. Apparently, the jewel wasp turns a cockroach into a zombie, then lays her eggs in it, and it sits peacefully under her control (even though she's long gone) as the egg hatches and the baby jewel wasp eats it alive. Revolting, I know, but also pretty impressive. (Also, it made the "human host" comment on the sign I liked a bit morbid.)

One pod was dedicated to an amazing defense mechanism that Japanese bees have against hornets. According to the sign, "Japanese honeybees "cook" their hornet enemy by engulfing it and rapidly vibrating their wing muscles. They can stand temperatures a few degrees higher than the hornet can." In this exhibit, with bees the size of people and an even bigger hornet, children (and adults) had to warm up glass honeycomb panels by rubbing them until the hive got hot enough to kill the hornet, at which point the lights flashed dramatically and we won. The children loved this, making this one of the most consistently crowded pods.

This enormous spider and web suspended from the ceiling were pretty awesome.

There were also lots of actual insects to admire. This one, whose leafiness seems almost excessive, was my favourite.

This one made me laugh, because surely all that body mass could not be lifted by those little wings! It made me think of Heimlich the caterpillar in A Bug's Life, who turns into a butterfly at the end, but just has these preposterously little wings. 

Can you see the similarity?

Anyway, the exhibit was amazing, and I'm so glad we went. Many of my children from Whare Kea also went over the several months it was there, and they all loved it. I had heard a lot about it from them before I went, but none of them said that it was scary. It was good that I had that in mind when I went through, because otherwise I might have worried that some of the insects would frighten them. But they are often braver than I think they'll be.

I'm so glad that there are exhibits like this to encourage people to see how amazing arthropods are, instead of being afraid of them. Their abilities are much like superpowers, and I just love knowing that incredible things like this are going on in the world every day, all around us. It's quite uplifting, somehow.

Mount Taranaki Part 2: The Summit

I believe we left off last week when I was at the faux-summit, almost to the top of Mount Taranaki. Today, the story continues.

This is looking back down from that faux-summit. The brownish area between all the green peaks is apparently a swampy area that's quite interesting to hike through. I might have to do that someday.

Just on the other side of my faux-summit is the crater, which is full of ice and snow year-round! I didn't know that it was there, because during summer and autumn the mountain looks snow-free. It was pretty amazing to discover.

There was one more grueling climb before we were all the way at the summit, and Lynette, who had already zoomed up there, encouraged us on our way up.

This is my favourite view, I think. A lovely rock structure (called Inuksuks in Canada, and it's still the word I use), followed by the lush green of Taranaki countryside, and then the cool blue of the ocean. With fluffy clouds for an extra flourish.

I also love this picture, because the peaks of four of my favourite mountains are all together. Left to right, we have Tongariro, Ngauruhoe, Ruapehu, and then, of course, Taranaki front and centre.

Again, love the clouds moving around the peaks and valleys, and it is so special that the ocean is right there!

Kirsten, Lynette, and I at the summit, feeling pretty accomplished.

Even a little bit higher than the large summit area was this big boulder. Kirsten and Lynette decided they were high enough, but I wanted to be at the tippy-tip-top, so here I am!

We had lunch at the summit, which was great. Lynette then warned us that we'd better get going down, because it had taken us over 8 hours to climb up, and if it took us many more to get down, we'd end up on jagged volcanic rocks in the dark. I thought we'd have plenty of time, because down is much easier, but we hadn't brought torches (flashlights), so we got a move on.

Remember how I just said down was easier? Not as true as you'd think. We went down a different route than we'd come up, but it was almost as jagged, and required a lot of careful maneuvering. 

After the jagged rocks came the scoria, which I learned on this trip is small pieces of volcanic rock that function very much like ball bearings when it comes to traction, but hurt more when you fall on them. I basically skied down, while Kirsten elected mostly sliding on her bottom. My way is faster, but more likely to result in falls, while hers is safer and slower.

Also, how awesome is that upright rock on the promontory? And the mist makes it look like a castle at the end of the world.

As the sun started setting (at about hour 11 of 13 total) the views were magnificent. I took a few quick pictures, but we were largely focused on getting off the second set of jagged volcanic rocks that we discovered below the scoria.

Even in our rushed state, all three of us stopped for a moment to marvel at one of the most amazing and beautiful things we'd ever seen. Mount Ruapehu was lit up by the sunset, and the blazing fuchsia was even more stunning in real life. 

We just barely managed to get off the hazardous climbing parts before it was fully dark, which was a relief. We then walked for about an hour and a half through what I'm sure was beautiful forest, but I can't be sure, as it was completely dark. But that was okay. The hike took at total of 13 hours, as I mentioned, so we were content to be fairly quiet and just keep walking.

With the hour drive on either end of the hike, it was a long day to say the least, but I slept very well that night and was only a little bit sore the next day. I woke up feeling rested, but it didn't last very long, and I ended up taking a long nap when I finally made it back to Wellington. The following day I was a bit more sore and did a lot of whining, but overall I felt that my body handled the experience very well. All my insane biking up the ridiculously steep Wellington hills has had a positive effect, I think.

As hard as this climb was, it was also an incredible adventure, and the difficulty made me feel deeply satisfied and quite proud of myself. I'm thinking I might do it again someday.  

Mount Taranaki Part 1: The Climb

I had to start with this picture, because it is too stunning not to go first. I didn't take it, so don't get excited about my suddenly stupendous photography skills. However, it was taken by a real photographer while I was on the mountain, so I'm pretty much in it. Most beautiful picture that's ever been taken of me, I think.

So, several weeks ago, I climbed Mount Taranaki with my friend Kirsten and her friend Lynette. I've wanted to climb to the summit for years, but haven't managed to make it happen, so when Kirsten and Lynette invited me to come along with the Social Club this summer, I jumped at the opportunity. The summit is 2,518m (8,261ft), which is quite high, especially considering that it's only a little way from the coast, and the base is about at sea level. I had heard that it was a challenging climb, but to be honest, I didn't really know what I was getting into. It turned out to be far more difficult, but also far more amazing, than I'd anticipated.

This was near the beginning of our climb. I love patterns of fog in valleys and between mountains.

(Side note: One of my children was recently asked what mist was, and he replied, "It's like flog, but it's floggier than flog." 4-year-olds are wonderful.)

This is looking up towards the summit from partway up. We looked at various views similar to this one for the eight hours that it took us to get to the top, and let me tell you that the summit was in no hurry to get any closer to us, and left all the work to our poor legs and arms. Yes, the climbing included arms. Details to follow.

Fairly early on, we had this amazing view, overtop of the clouds, of (left to right) Mount Tongariro, Mount Ngauruhoe, and Mount Ruapehu, which are at least 150km (93miles) away. I really feel like it's further than that, but perhaps that's because it takes about 5 hours to drive there on circuitous NZ roads. Anyway, I have hiked and snowboarded on those mountains, and they're stunning, and it was amazing to see them like that.

You can read a post I wrote in August 2014 about a Māori legend about these mountain by clicking here. I feel much more attached to this story now than I did then, because I've now visited every mountain and also read the story about a million times. It's wonderful to have stories about the places you identify with.

I thought these cliffs we passed were absolutely beautiful.

After a relatively easy start on some stairs and paths, we started up towards the Kokowai Lava flow. Turns out, there is no path up to it, and we climbed up through tall grasses, which fortunately had strong enough roots, stems, and leaves to hold us, because it was so steep that we were pulling ourselves up with our hands. It was also challenging because we couldn't see where we were stepping in the dense growth, but it was so exciting and adventurous to be off-track. That's Lynette, who is a mountain-climbing machine!

The real work began once we got to the actual Kokowai Lava flow. It was much less hiking and much more rock climbing than I was anticipating. I've never climbed something that steep without ropes and climbing gear, but we managed! 

There's Lynette again, leading the way, and Kirsten in the blue backpack, both looking carefully for hand and foot holds, which were in short supply in this smooth part of the climb. We're some pretty awesome adventurers, can you tell? We'd didn't let the sheer impossibility of the climb stop us! 

Further up, the smooth lava flow gave way to cracked and jagged volcanic rock, which presented a new host of challenges. Plenty to grab onto and step on, but a high likelihood that whatever you put your weight on will slide, shift, or even crumble away, leaving you loosing your balance on a steep incline. Just part of the adventure! 

I only had one major fall, but each rock I landed on made it's mark. I don't bruise easily, and so was astonished by my decorated arm. The bruises weren't very painful, though, so no complaints.

Getting nearer the top (thank heavens), erosion has done its work, and the rocks have crumbled into even smaller pieces. I don't know anything about volcanos, but the rocks also seemed a lot more porous at the top. Is that erosion as well? Anyway, continued struggles to climb up in increasing altitude and with increasingly exhausted muscles. We took lots of breaks, drank lots of water, kept up a lovely stream of chitchat, and reminded ourselves frequently how impressive we were to be accomplishing this, all of which meant that I was in a pretty darn good mood. I do love a good adventure!

Also, look at the awesome rainbow of colours in the rocks! They are vicious if you fall on them, as their porous nature means they're like incredibly coarse sandpaper. I tested them with my kneecap, just to be sure, and can confirm that they will slice right through skin. But their beauty is worth a scraped knee any day!

This is not the real summit, but I quite like the picture. We got almost to the top, and the Social Club leader-person, who had gone ahead but met us there, said he didn't know how to get to the summit on that side. I thought this meant we wouldn't be able to go all the way to the top, and so took this picture as a consolation prize. Turns out, however, that we could just go around to the other side and up to the summit, which we did. This can be your summit for the moment, though, as I've saved my actual summit pictures for my next post.