Magazine Articles
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A skier’s a skier
The meaning of adaptive. Bailley Unahi knows all about the journey from beginner to competitive athlete. Originally from the Southland town of Winton, Bailley was 19 when her spine was broken in a balcony collapse at a Six60 concert in Dunedin. She had been athletic before the accident, playing “every team sport possible”, including netball…
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Our duty of cairn
Rocks and hard places. “This can’t be the way.” I emerge, scratched and panting, onto a blessed patch of open tussock. I’m in the middle of Fiordland, painstakingly extracting myself from the alpine scrub that’s had me hemmed in on all sides. The toothy, snow-draped peaks of the Darran Mountains tower over the lush valley…
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An alpine odyssey
Huw Kingston and Laurence Mote are putting the mountains in mountain bikes for a cause. Coming to a ski field near you this winter, two guys on bikes. They will probably look tired. If you see them, say hello, offer them a cuppa, and maybe a bed. They’re calling it Alpine Odyssey Aotearoa. Odyssey is…
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Harder than ice
The rise, fall and resurrection of the Bush Creek Rink. Cold fingers pull laces on stiff leather – breath hanging in the air, the waft of woodsmoke, the cackle of childish laughter. I flip my collar and sink into the wool of my jersey. This isn’t the time or place for modern fabrics. Grabbing my…
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Here be tigers
A ski traverse of the Hooker Range. This is the tale of a bucket that went on a long journey to the wild places west of the village. It’s a yarn about three mountain guides (sometimes four), spanning three decades in age (sometimes four) on a much-needed week off. And it’s the story of a…
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Stuffed animals
The 1964 guide to the everywhere-taxidermy of the South Island. Rural Aotearoa and taxidermy go together like an all-you-can eat sausage sizzle and tomato sauce. There’s a lot of it, and both involve getting stuffed. However you feel about taxidermy, it’s an impressive craft, one which involves fitting the clean and treated skin of an…
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Fishing in the Styx
In memory of Brian Turner. Around four in the afternoon, one day in early December, I rest on a bank of the Taieri River, a kilometre or two upstream of the bridge on Loganburn Ford Road. I feel a light breeze on my face and hear it rustle the tall grasses on this otherwise calm…
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For those who wished to dance
Revisiting the Ruby Island cabaret. In October of 1928, the Wānaka correspondent for the Cromwell Argus reported on developments at a local island: “This peaceful little beauty spot is to be the site of a unique and picturesque cabaret. Placed on the highest point, sheltered, yet within full view of the dancing wavelets of the…
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Freezing for fun
The cold never bothered me anyway. “Take off your clothes,” the Italian woman says. She’s speaking in English, into a loudspeaker. The crowd lining the poolside and balcony go quiet. “Get into the water.” Eight of us shuffle to the edge of the pool. There is one ladder for two lanes. The competitor in lane…