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There are many parts of this trip that will take a long time for us to understand…meaning, I still find it really strange and amazing that we’re actually doing this. I already know that our girls don’t quite get it, and I don’t expect them to. They’ve been troopers through all the places we’ve stayed, cars we’ve rented, and transitions to anticipate.

With that said, we just came off of a week-long stay at farm on the far, far East Coast of New Zealand’s South Island. We were glamping. You know…Glamorous Camping on a beautiful plot of land on a working sheep and beef farm.

Most of our days were spent just staring at the steep hills and making up stories about the cowboy-farmers doing work and the animals that we shared the land with.

Here’s a picture of Maggie’s face on the first morning we were there….pretty baffled to watch the cattle move from one place to another, with the working farm dogs barking orders. It’s pretty much how we spent the better part of the week, with our faces in awe of our surroundings.

More to come….

**posts have been pre-loaded and are not real-time**

The other day we took the ferry across the harbor to Auckland on rented bikes, it was a very fun and adventurous day. Maggie and I were Team Brave Older Redhead because her mini bike was attached to the back of my bike.

Quite honestly, even though it was my hair-brained plan, I wasn’t sure about tugging her along behind me on a bike through a major city. I kept my doubts to myself because I was certain that she had similar doubts. We’re the same that way, redheads that worry.

We’d loaded onto the ferry and prepared for the 20 minute crossing and kept our helmets on for the duration. Mags and I left Barry and Audrey, Team Younger Twin Faces, and went and found the fresh air. According to Maggie, it was too hot to be inside, so we found seats that sat near the door.

As we sat there by the door, Maggie and I people-watched, a favorite hobby of Team Brave Older Redhead. I noticed an older (and by older, Dad, I mean older than me) couple sitting outside. They were clearly on an adventure, back pack loaded up and chatting away about their day.

Then I looked to their feet, as they crouched on the edge of their seats, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. The man had his feet covered in parts of duct tape, covering up blisters from previous days. The man’s sandles looked like my dad’s and his feet looked like my dad’s. Then I noticed that most of him looked like my dad.

My mind wandered to the time we were in Hawaii as a family and we were planning to hike across the volcano, but my dad had cut his foot while boogie boarding. (Maybe this isn’t an exact memory, but that’s how memories of the past go, right?). He was determined to hike the volcano and so covered his foot injury with duct tape that he had on hand.

At the time, it struck me as odd. Who brings duct tape on vacation?  My dad. Of course, my dad. And the dude on the ferry.

I’ve had so many times on this trip that I’ve thought of him. When we’d finally settled in to a sense of routine at the Hot Water Beach and Maggie started building things….well, that’s my dad. He just builds things….all the freakin’ time. It’s a special talent of his, to turn something that wasn’t quite beautiful into something more beautiful.

As I sat there on the ferry, in the middle of my way to bike riding in Auckland with Maggie behind me, I thought of all the times that my dad made me feel like I was on his team. Our inside jokes that were really everything and nothing perfectly packaged into one. He always mad me feel special and part of his duct tape ideas…..hiking volcanos and turning nothing into something worth looking at twice.

Before we got off the ferry, I hugged Maggie close and confirmed with her that Team Brave Older Redhead could do hard things.

If we were a generational traveling band, I’d invite my dad to join in on our team. He’d fit right in. Worrying, building things, but he’d have to bring his own duct tape.