The TranzAlpine

Yesterday Greenpeace New Zealand launched its most important campaign ever - Sign On. It is part of the campaign on stopping climate change. The goal of the campaign is essentially to mobilize New Zealanders to demand the prime minister John Key to go to the UN climate summit in Copenhagen in December and sign on to a emissions reduction target of 40% below 1990 levels by 2020, along with the rest of the world's developed countries. This means getting names and signatures of as many as possible in New Zealand before the Copenhagen meeting.


What makes the Sign On campaign really cool is the wide variety of NZ celebrities that have become ambassadors for Greenpeace for the course of this campaign. There are actors (Lucy Lawless / Xena: Warrior Princess, rarrrr!), businessmen, a Nobel prize winning scientist and other high-profile New Zealanders. This shows that the concern for climate change transcends demographics. It is often said that the only thing holding us back from tackling global warming is a lack of political will. Well, the purpose of this campaign is to create that will; to show the politicians that this is a threat the people wants action on. It is, after all, now or never.

On the launch day fundraisers and volunteers in every city and town where Greenpeace is active in NZ hit the streets collecting signatures. Together with nine other volunteers I braved the rainy and windy streets of downtown Christchurch for two hours. The terrible gale and the heavy showers made our work difficult and less than pleasant, but it reminded me of my days working as a street fundraiser for UNICEF in Helsinki. I enjoyed it. In the weeks and months to come leading up to December we will do this several times over, but also arrange events of different kinds to give people the possibility to sign the petition. It's quite exciting, although I won't be in NZ long enough to see the campaign to the end.

Speaking of which, today I only have 6 more weeks left in Christchurch. This means half of the time here has already passed, rather quickly if you ask me. This also means I need to keep on rolling out these blog posts of past adventures on a once-a-week basis if I want to be able to start from a clean slate when I jump on the bus in early July and leave Christchurch. Which brings me to the topic of today: the great TranzAlpine train journey between Christchurch and Greymouth.

The TranzAlpine train steadily climbing higher and higher approaching the Southern Alps.

In the previous blog post I told you about our four day hike along the Kepler Track. Basically what happened after that, was that we drove to the Queenstown area, spent a couple of days there, and continued to Christchurch. I'll tell you about Queenstown in another post later on. In Christchurch we attended the DramFest '09 whisky festival, which we have already covered, and waited for a week or so until Giigan's parents Jaakko and Eeva-Inkeri arrived on the 6th March.

Together with them we travelled the South Island for the next 10 days. The first journey we did together was the TranzAlpine train journey, which is allegedly one of the "world's great scenic railway journeys". It is certainly good, albeit perhaps a bit over-marketed when it comes to the superlatives. Leaving Christchurch, the train traverses the green fields of the Canterbury Plains, wounds its way along the gorges and river valleys of the Waimakariri River, takes Arthur's Pass across the Southern Alps, and pierces wet beech rainforest on the West Coast before arriving in Greymouth. Greymouth lies by the mouth of the Grey River (hence its name) and has a history of gold and coal mining. It has a bleak feeling, maybe reminiscent of those old days, not making it a top destination in NZ according to our opinion.

We took the train to Greymouth early Saturday morning on the 7th March and arrived by early afternoon. We spent the night in Greymouth in a motel, before catching the afternoon train back to Christchurch on Sunday.

The train journeys were comfortable and very enjoyable, despite the grey and rainy weather. Being a scenic railway journey, the train has a special open air viewing carriage which means you don't have to snap photos through the windows. We spent most of the journey to Greymouth admiring the views, whereas the return trip was devoted to playing cards (Pidron).

Enjoying lunch and sparkling wine before the card game on the return trip.

Despite not possessing the most excitable and welcoming vibe, the town of Greymouth still has a few things worth checking out. It's a good 30 minute walk from the town centre to the pier at the mouth of the Grey River. On the way you can gawk at the small fishing boats in the harbour, or if you're lucky with the weather (unlike us), catch a glimps of Mt Cook, the highest mountain in NZ. Once on the pier, it's fascinating watching the waves from the Tasman Sea crash into the flow of the Grey River, and listening to the music of thousands of rolling pebbles dragged back and forth on the beach.

Giigan and Jaakko on the pier by the Grey River.

The Monteith's brewery is perhaps the biggest attraction in Greymouth. True to our quest to visit as many breweries in NZ as possible, Giigan and I had booked the four of us in on a tour late on Saturday afternoon. It was a very thorough tour of the brewery - definitely the best we've been on here - and naturally included samples of the full range of Monteith's beers at the end. Monteith's is one of the biggest breweries in NZ brewing crafted beer, positioning it neatly between bulk beer like Steinlager and the beer of a true connoisseur, like Moa. If you want quality without having to pay a fortune, Monteith's an excellent choice.

At the bar in the Monteith's brewery.

In the evening we had dinner at a seafood restaurant and enjoyed a few drinks at a pub in town. Back at the motel we admired the emerging moon from the balcony for a while, before the eventful day caught up with us and we all went to bed.

Dinner at a seafood restaurant in Greymouth.

On Sunday we had time to walk down to the seashore again for some more photos, stroll through a Gypsy market, and play a round of minigolf, before the train left. It was a good, relaxed weekend - a prelude to the fantastic road trip we put together for Jaakko and Eeva-Inkeri. More about it in the next blog post!

As usual, MORE PICTURES available by clicking this link.

Kepler Track

Te Anau is not only the gateway to Milford Sound, but also an excellent base for a number of walks in the Fiordland region. One of them is the fairly easy and highly accessible Kepler Track, which is one of New Zealand's "Great Walks". It's a circular track starting from and ending at the Lake Te Anau Control Gates about 5 km from the town centre. The track is 60 km long (one of the longest) and takes 4 days to finish. Nights are slept in the three huts along the way. The walk offers spectacular scenery in the Fiordland National Park, ranging from alpine tundra to beech forests and lake views.

At the Control Gates by Lake Te Anau, ready for the four day walk.

Giigan and I walked the track between Thursday 19 Feb and Sunday 22 Feb. The rest of this blog post will be in Swedish with diary excerpts written on the walk (I need to keep my Swedish alive), but as always, the picture captions in the gallery are in English.

Kursivtext är utdrag ur dagboken, ibland något editerat.

Dag 1 - torsdag 19.2.2009: Första dagen på Kepler Track i Fiordland lider mot sitt slut. Vi övernattar i Luxmore Hut på sluttningen av Mt Luxmore. Idag har vi tillryggalagt den tyngsta biten av denna fyra dagars "Great Walk" (60 km in alles). Från Te Anau på 250 meters höjd har vi stigit över trädgränsen till molnens rike på 1085 meter. Imorgon stiger vi ännu lite högre, men i huvudsak börjar det bära av neråt härifrån framåt. Hittills har vandringen varit ypperlig. En spännande bonus väntade oss här vid alpstugan; i närheten finns en 2 km djup grotta, som vi utforskade en god bit. [...] Vi har nu snart varit 4 veckor på resande fot igen och visst har det varit skönt att bara ha semester. Paradoxalt nog, känns det nu som att det vore tungt att söka efter ett nytt jobb och börja arbeta nånstans, samtidigt som det vore skönt att lugna ner nånstans och inte ständigt behöva fundera var vi ska övernatta till näst eller vilka ställen som ska besökas. Jag saknar med andra ord rutiner igen. [...]

Uppe på ca 1000 meters höjd på slutrakan av den första etappen.

Första vandringsdagen började med en 1½ timmes lätt promenad längs stranden av Lake Te Anau. Vädret var fantastiskt hela dagen och till och med lite för hett under den 3 timmar långa branta klättringen upp till den första övernattningsstugan. Eftersom vi var framme redan tidigt på eftermiddagen hade vi god tid på oss att utforska grottan som fanns i närheten. Med pannlamporna på oss spenderade vi säkerligen en timme i jordens mörka inre, men trots det kom vi inte ner till bottnen (det ska finnas en skylt där). Tunneln var på många ställen mycket smal, trång och svårframkomlig, vilket saktade ner farten mycket. Det var kallt och fuktigt, men magpirrande spännande att söka sig allt djupare.

Efter grottans mynning som syns här smalnade tunneln av betydligt.

Säsongstid (oktober till april) finns det gasspisar i stugorna, rinnande kallt vatten, spol-WC, elektrisk belysning och ved för uppvärmning. Vintertid saknas dessa. Enkla våningssängar med madrasser finns året om. Säsongstid är stugorna också bemannade av parkvaktare. Allt detta betyder att alla förnödenheter man behöver under vandringen måste var och en bära med sig själv. I huvudsak betyder detta mat, bestick, assietter och kokredskap. Allt skräp man producerar ska naturligtvis också bäras bort av en själv (det är trots allt en nationalpark man vandrar igenom).

Våra dunsovsäckar visade sig mycket funktionerande också under de kalla nätterna (ingen uppvärmning förutom i matsalarna).

Dag 2 - fredag 20.2.2009: Surrealistiskt. Det var känslan jag fick idag då jag tänkte på att jag om några dagar varit på resande fot i ett halvt år. Det är en lång tid. Det är nästan skrämmande hur snabbt det gått. Känns som om det bara var igår då jag stod i dörröppningen i Esbo; stod på Vasa tågstation; promenerade längs Lervägen i Solf; och festade på lokalen i Solf. [...] Bodde jag faktiskt 3 månader i Mt Maunganui? Hade jag jobb, eget rum och egen säng? Det känns som en dröm. Otroligt att det hände. Och när jag tänker på tiden på det sättet, så har det också varit en lång tid borta från alla nära och kära. [...] Kanske det var dagens hårda regn och den långa vandringen över alpterräng som fick mig att kontemplera detta.

Dag två av vandringen kunde ha gett oss fantastiska alputsikter, men tyvärr var vädermannen inte på vår sida idag. Största delen av tiden vandrade vi inne i ett regnande, grått moln. Visst var det enastående i sig, men eftersom det också kommer att regna imorgon och övermorgon betyder det att hela vandringen förvandlats till ett mycket blött äventyr. Trots vår goda utrustning är våra kläder våta inte bara pga svett, eftersom vi ju vandrar 4 timmar per dag och måste utstå elementen utan annat skydd än det vi bär på oss. Men jag klagar inte (ännu!). Det här är Fiordland; det är meningen att det ska regna mycket. Det är vad Giigan ville ha minst en dag på vandringen. [...] Nu släcktes de automatiska lamporna i stugan (klockan är 22) och jag ids inte slösa batterierna i pannlampan på att sitta här längre (sällskapsrummet/matsalen). Dags att gå till sängs!

På grund av att vi lämnade Luxmore stugan väldigt sent under dag 2 och därmed anlände bland de sista till följande stuga - Iris Burn Hut - fick vi inte våra våta kläder ordentligt upphängda intill kaminen där. Det hjälpte inte heller att de andra vandrarna från varierande nationaliteter inte vaktade elden särskilt bra, till följd att den var svag och dog ett antal gånger. Följdaktligen var våra kläder fuktiga ännu nästa morgon. Vi hade dock bestämt oss för att inte upprepa vårt misstag (speciellt med tanke på att det inte lovats något uppehåll i regnet), så vi stack iväg tidigt den tredje dagen för att kunna erövra kaminen i Moturau stugan inför den sista övernattningen.

Moturau Hut, dag 3.

Dag 3 - lördag 21.2.2009: Det är märkvärdigt hur oändligt långt 16 km känns då man trampar genom skog och mark. Regnet öste ner idag också, och det bidrog till att göra marschen till en tunnel utan slut. När man går mellan de gamla mossbeklädda trädstammarna och endast emellanåt ser något landmärke längre bort än några hundra meter, förlorar tiden sin betydelse. Det känns som om man gått i en evighet och att man redan borde vara framme. Vad som i själva verket bara varit 10 minuter verkar som om en hel timme måste ha flutit förbi.

I en sådan skog som vi vandrade genom idag har ingen bråttom.

När vi efter 3½ timme nådde dagens lägerplats - stugan Moturau Hut intill Lake Manapouri - var vi glada åt att vi varit bland de första som lämnat Iris Burn Hut på morgonen, för det betydde att det inte var många andra framme ännu och vi kunde börja torka våra kläder i lugn och ro. Det kändes som gamla armétider att efter en lång marsch i blötan sätta upp eld i kaminen och lägga kläderna och ryka så nära som möjligt. Vi fick t.o.m. den gamla tjocka Klondyke-järnburken att lysa mansikka. Så eldar finnar! Och ikväll har kläder faktiskt blivit torra till skillnad från förra kvällen fast det då också "eldades" i kaminen.

Till en början var det knepigt att få igång elden pga fuktig ved, men sen till slut fick vi nog kaminen att rodna!

De senaste 8 timmarna har jag faktiskt inte gjort något speciellt, förutom att snabbt koka mat (nudlar och bönor), huggit ved och vaktat elden. Det har varit riktigt gemytligt.

Imorgon har vi vandringens sista etapp framför oss. 16 km genom platt skogsterräng längs en bäck. Mera regn har lovats, men det kvittar. Vandringen har inte varit nära på ens utmanande, fast lite sjuka är vi nog här och var. Axlarna är spända av att bära den tunga rinkan (vi har en rinka och en ryggsäck och turas om) och mitt vänstra knä har värkt efter gårdagens långa branta nedförsbacke. Annars är benen i gott skick, fast lite känner jag naturligtvis av att vi gått i snitt 15 km per dag de senaste tre dagarna.

På slutrakan, dag 4.

Känslan var fantastisk efter att ha fullbordat hela vandringen på söndagen. Det regnade inte ens sista dagen, men det var mulet och vatten från skogens träd droppade på oss. På kvällen gottade vi oss med god mat, goda Tuatara öl och plättar vid vårt härbärge: Rainbow Downs Barnyard Backpackers. Kepler Track var en fin upplevelse som vi kan rekommendera åt alla som gillar vandringar. Det finns inte många saker som är bättre än att komma bort från civilisationens bekvämlighet i några dagar och låta naturens frid fylla sinnet.

MORE PICTURES from the walk are available in the picture gallery here, and a VIDEO CLIP is available on youtube here.

Milford Sound

The Maoris are claimed to have found Piopiotahi over a thousand years ago. According to their legend, the fjords of Aotearoa were not formed by grinding glaciers, but by an atua - a godly figure - named Tu-te-raki-whanoa. This titanic mason had been given the task to sculpture the western coast of Fiordland, and moving from south to north, he put his giant adze to work, singing a powerful chant, and hued out the many fjords in the region. Piopiotahi, the northernmost fjord, became his masterpiece, and is today known as Milford Sound.

Milford Sound.

Having made the trip to Milford Sound three times by now, we can say that the trip is as much an experience, a discovery in itself, as the actual destination. Often acclaimed the most famous tourist attraction in New Zealand, Milford Sound is the only fjord accessible by road and lies a two hour drive north of Te Anau (excluding stops). It makes a good return day trip from the little service town. You should leave either really early in the morning, or closer to noon in order to avoid most of the tourist buses, some of which come all the way from Queenstown. And don't worry about the weather; the journey to Milford Sound is spectacular no matter what the forecast looks like. We've seen it painted in scattering clouds, in astonishing sunshine from a cobalt blue sky, and in the aftermath of pouring rain. In fact, the fjord is one of the wettest places on Earth with a mean annual rainfall of nearly seven metres over 182 days per year.

At a glance this might not sound so inviting, until you realise one of the most astonishing features of the destination are the hundreds of temporary waterfalls forming after heavy rain. The myriad of vertical streams cascading down the steep cliff faces are like white cracks in the dark impregnable walls. Tapestries of water and stone.

Our best visit to Milford Sound was in fact also the wettest!

Leaving Te Anau, the road follows the shore of Lake Te Anau for about half an hour. At Te Anau Downs the road turns inland, but continues north into the Eglinton Valley between the Earl Mountains and the Livingstone Mountains. Driving on the flat valley floor following the Eglinton River feels like driving in a tunnel; dark mountain walls rise on either side of the yellow plain covered in knee-high grass. The first time we drove through the valley there was an even cloud sheet obscuring the mountain tops, creating a kind of roof over the valley. The feeling was almost claustrophobic.

With the canopy of the rainforest reaching over the road, some parts of the trip felt like driving through a green tunnel.

Further up the valley, the Mirror Lakes are worth a stop while driving through pristine rainforest towards the last and best hour of the journey. Once you reach the Divide (the lowest east/west crossing in the Southern Alps) the scenery turns just mind-blowing for the last 35 km to the head of Milford Sound. Everywhere you look you see towering mountains, green native forest, streams, and after rain, lots and lots of temporary waterfalls. The road is quite narrow and twisty so you can't go fast, but you don't want to either, because you want to absorb the magnificence of the untouched nature filling the car windows.

A couple of kilometres from the Divide there are two lookouts a few hundred metres apart. From them you have two slightly different, but fantastic views of the Darran Mountains and the Ailsa Mountains, with the Hollyford Valley in between. The Ailsa Mountains look like a slender jawbone with sharp shark teeth protruding at varying angles, while the Darran Mountains look brutish and bulky, like the throne of a king of giants.

The Hollyford Valley and the Ailsa Mountains.

The road continues in a north-easterly direction, squeezed between intimidating mountain peaks. At one point you start wondering if the road is going to come to an end, because all you see in front of you is the valley ending in an almost vertical mountain wall. The road twists and turns for a while, and then you see it, the entrance to the Homer tunnel - a dark hole in the rock, dwarfed by the snow-topped mountain ridge above and the nearby waterfall formed by the melting ice.

The Homer tunnel pierces the Homer Saddle and is 1,2 km long. It is very crude, single lane, and unlit. In other words, a thrilling drive. Coming from Te Anau, the tunnel slopes downwards with the exit being 945 metres above sea level. From there the last kilometres to Milford (the name of the small settlement at the head of Milford Sound) are a fairly steep descent with parts of the leg being truly serpentine.

The serpentine road after passing through the Homer tunnel.

The last attraction before Milford is the Chasm; a kind of waterfall with perplexing rock formations formed through the hard work of constant flowing water. Depending on the volume of water in the stream at the time, you might mostly just see foaming white water, or a piece of stone art signed by Nature.

The head of Milford Sound, where Milford with its one hotel, cafe / restaurant / bar, hostel, airstrip and harbour lies, is about 15 km inland from the Tasman Sea. You can't see the open sea from Milford, but what you do see, is an astonishing view of sheer rock faces reaching over 1200 metres skywards, and sharply cutting into the shimmering surface of the narrow body of water separating one shore from another. The iconic Mitre Peak (1692 m) with its skewed summit dominates the left side of the fjord, while the right side boasts with the enthralling white cascade of the Bowen Falls and several behemoth mountain tops, like The Lion (1302 m), The Elephant (1518 m) and snow-covered Mt Pembroke (2000 m).

Iconic Mitre Peak above Giigan's head. The Elephant, the Lion and Mt Pembroke are the peaks in the distance to the right of Mitre Peak.

On our second trip to the fjord we were accompanied by Giigan's parents Jaakko and Eeva-Inkeri. Together with them we went on a 1½ hour cruise through Milford Sound. The weather was quite rough - cold and wet - but as the cruise ship set out the rain stopped and the cloud cover started breaking up. We were extremely lucky, since we were able to stand outdoors on the viewing deck almost all the time and could admire the many waterfalls that had formed after the rain. The ship took us all the way to the entrance of the fjord, where the angry Tasman Sea threw some hard gusts at us, before returning to harbour. On the way back the captain showered the bow of the ship in one of the permanent waterfalls in the fjord, and as the sun came out two rainbows appeared in the spraying mist.

Waterfalls after heavy rain.

We also saw about half a dozen bottlenose dolphins swim past the ship. They weren't in a playful mood so sadly we didn't see much of them. However, we were lucky to see them at all, because the dolphins don't visit Milford Sound that much anymore. It is believed to be a consequence of the popularity of the fjord as a tourist attraction (550,000 visitors/year): tourist ships from several different operators leave the Milford harbour every hour from early morning 'til late afternoon. On top of that, small aircraft and helicopters take off from the airstrip constantly, adding to the hullabaloo. In fact, Milford Sound is far from a silent spot on Earth. All of this is very sad, especially when many of the cruise ships are far from full. The 30 metre-or-so Milford Sovereign we were on could have taken a few hundred people, but there was only about 10 of us onboard. And at the same time two other, although smaller, ships also cruised through the fjord. No wonder the dolphins have retreated to calmer waters.

Milford Sound is without a doubt one of the top three destinations we've visited in NZ. It's remote, wild and stunningly impressive. It's like a focal point of all things beautiful in nature. It's one of those places on Earth, where you feel humble and tiny in the presence of the greater forces ruling this planet. The giant glacier that carved the mighty fjord may not have been the godly figure of Maori legend, but that doesn't mean veneration is out of place. After all, its footsteps have lain unperturbed for millennia...

MORE PICTURES from Milford Sound are available here.

Ponderings on the voyage...

My intention was to first just say a few words about the past week and tell you about Milford Sound. However, my writing got a bit out of hand, so I will leave this as it is and later in the week (aiming for Wednesday) publish the story of one of the most beautiful fiords on this planet.

On Wednesday and Thursday night I had the great pleasure of meeting up with my English cousin Paul and his mate Jim, who are on a 'round the world trip. Having travelled around NZ the past two weeks, they were passing through Christchurch before heading for Aussie. Last time we met was at Grandma's garden party in Vasa last summer, and now we were both on the other side of the planet! Funny, huh? At least we thought so.

On Friday morning I had to wake up earlier than any other morning so far in Christchurch. The reason? I wanted to listen to a talk given by Bill McKibben who was in town to promote www.350.org. Bill was the first to write a book (The End of Nature) about climate change to a general audience, now 20 years ago. He is the co-founder of 350.org, an international campaign dedicated to building a movement to unite the world around solutions to the climate crisis. I won't go into further detail about 350.org because most of you who read this will have got an email about it from me. Suffice it to say, that the session was extremely fruitful and I hope you check the website out and get involved!

Since then a couple of things have been on my mind, but it all boils down to this: fossil fuels are hidden everywhere in our daily lives. Our modern society is built on foundations of fossil fuels. It's not just the petrol you fill your car with, or the coal many Kiwis burn in their fireplaces in winter. One day at work a man told me the fleece I was wearing was made of fossil fuels, and he was right. 100% polyester, which is ultimately derived from oil. But it goes further than that, further than all the plastic products in the world. Did you know, for instance, that petrochemicals are used to manufacture modern medicines like analgesics, antibiotics, antihistamines, ointments and many more?

What happens when we reach peak oil? What happens when we run out?

Although more serious, the future state of modern healthcare wasn't my foremost thought. Rather, it was the realisation that my possible grandchildren or grandgrandchildren most likely won't be able to embark on a journey like the one I'm currently on. At least, in a way, I hope not, because if they could, it would mean my generation lost the fight to solve the current climate crisis.

We are at a crossroads in history. One path leads to business as usual; keep on relying on fossil fuels until the reserves are eventually depleted while the climate shows its ugly, irremediable face to mankind. The other path leads to voluntary, gradual freedom from the dependence on fossil fuels through a cap on greenhouse gas emissions and the price thereof cascading into the markets. This latter path leads to a future without catastrophic climate change, but can only be realised through a shift in the mindset of the human race. A sustainable future isn't one where humans live like locusts on Earth, but one where the relationship between guest and host is symbiotic.

This leads to consider another ideology which is largely to blame for the current dilemma facing humanity. The purpose of life, contrary to what advertisements would have us believe, can't be consumerism, can it? Is the meaning of my life to make ever more profit and more profit so I can buy more products (made of fossil fuels) and contribute to pollution, deforestration and depletion of natural resources (mainly in the Third World since Western civilisation has already reaped the resources of the First World)? Is the answer to life, the universe and everything 42 cars / toothbrushes / vacuum cleaners / plastic bags / bottles / sneakers / circulars / insert-your-favourite-consumable-here?

One thing, probably the most profound thing, that has dawned on me during this journey, which today has lasted for an even 250 days, is that I don't want my life to be about all that. I don't want to make my life a part of that vicious circle. Profit, profit, profit, buy, buy, buy, more, more, more.

Earlier this week I had one of the best conversations I've had so far at work. This man in his fifties invites me into his "temple", i.e. his garage :-) We sit there talking for a good 45 minutes (having a few cold ones too). When at one point his little red-haired boy shows up before bedtime, the man tells me how his father used to take him to a river to fish, but how he can't do that with his boy today because the river is polluted and if you catch a fish there it is likely to come up with five eyes in its head! These are the true joys of life bereaved from us due to the profit-buy-more mentality constantly pushed at us from all directions.

Later he asked me what made me decide to come to NZ and work for Greenpeace. I found myself telling him the answer not because it was a part of my sales pitch, but because it was the honest truth. I came to do something different with my life. I didn't plan to find this, but now that I have, am determined to find some meaning with life above money and worldly wealth.

250 days ago I never knew I'd find answers like these, nor that I would lose others. What I do know now, however, is that I don't want to find myself 50 and not be able to go out fishing with my daughter or son because I've been part of the problem, and not the solution.