Gymnastics in New Zealand

May 27, 2002

rick_mugGymnastics here is surprisingly similar to gymnastics in Canada. The sport is not much less evolved in NZ though the Kiwi population numbers fewer than 4 million. However there are not many modern gymnastics facilities.

My gym is BUSY — as we speak 840 members a week plus drop-in and over 600 kids each week in school programs.

We have over 140 competing; WAG (women’s artistic gymnastics), MAG (men’s artistic gymnastics) and a few Trampolinists.

In New Zealand many more kids compete than in Canada. Club revenue from those competing equals the revenue brought in by recreation. Gymnastics is a much less elitist sport here — I prefer the NZ model. It is much easier to get to Nationals here than it is to get to Western Canada Championships, for example.

Carla
Carla

I am Head Coach of all and personal coach of 19 girls age 11 to 17 as well as 3 male gymnasts age 15 – 22. I have no “partner” coach with the girls though I work with 4 or 5 other very experienced part-time coach / judges. There is never a dull moment.

Our upstart boys competitive program is rocking. We will need a dedicated men’s coach by next season latest.

splits

I arrived at the worst possible time — only a month prior to the start of the competitive season which runs May through to Nationals in September. Most competitions in our region are hosted in our gym as it is an ideal competition venue. I will not need to travel much.

Our gym is organized; the staff is dedicated and over-worked. Many nights we are short coaches. We are always looking to hire.

Our gym was the Pacific Alliance championships training venue and training facility for the Canadian team staging for the 2000 Olympics in Sydney. There is a strong affection for Canadian gymnastics here. To my surprise there was another Canadian coach when I arrived, Kendra Wilke ( coached Rec at U of Calgary) who is in New Zealand as National Short-track Speed Skating coach. Kendra coached the Olympics Salt Lake City.

I did not get to meet my predecessor Alexander (Sasha) Pozdniakov.

Laura Smit
Laura Smit

Laura Smit is the top gymnast in the club, age 14, brilliantly artistic but still struggling to meet the very tough FIG requirements this code.

Laura is the only carded (National team) athlete from the South Island, ranked 6th in selection for the 5-member Commonwealth Games team. (NZ may only send 4 gymnasts or fewer.)

haley_doubleOther top gymnasts in the club include team captain Hayley (doing the double back) and Karry, a 17-year-old who has finished high school but who is going strong, still improving.

The gym has great potential. Obviously we have a great base. Other clubs in town do not train Senior gymnasts, sending them to us when the athletes outgrow their facilities.

There are far fewer overweight children in NZ than in Canada though no doubt Kiwis are making chase. Gymnasts here make no effort to hide McDonald French fry cartons when they arrive at the gym. Fish and chips is a staple for families.

The gym is in a marvellous setting between a park and a golf course / tiered driving range. We are part of the largest multi-sport complex on the South Island. I spend a fair bit of time at the nearby Academy of Sport which provides me all manner of high tech computer and video toys.

I have connected with coach education people at NZ Gymnastics and expect to be teaching courses by July. I have not judged as yet but am scheduled for the next competition. I really do not have much time to judge.

National Championships is concluded in Canada, but you are all invited to Kiwi Nationals in Christchurch, September 25 – 29th! See you there.

Ciao for now.

two_ropes2_sm
Getting fit, having fun in Christchurch

Rick in New Zealand

April 16, 2002

rick_mugEn route to my new job, I had a 1 day stopover in Hong Kong, one of my favourite cities; the famous Star Ferry, double Decker buses, fantastic high-rises and bridges begging the question what happens when the big Quake hits.

Hong Kong was a day filled with anticipation for me too.

After 60 hours en route I finally descended into Auckland. It is a spectacular city seen from above with much water everywhere. This was my first time to New Zealand.

I scooted through customs despite admitting that I had no work visa (yet) though I was arriving for a full-time job. The friendly and casual official waved me through.

One more flight took me on to Christchurch on the south island (mainland!).

It is a great adventure to be living and working in another country. I am thankful my eccentric lifestyle and philosophy affords me the freedom to do so. And the generous support of friends and family, of course. My brother Randy bailed me out in last minute banking confusion.

By the way, I was feted at thanks-for-leaving parties in both Saskatoon and Calgary. Thanks to everyone — especially for the awesome sheep cake in the toon!

In NZ I was met at the airport and whisked to the CSG (Christchurch School of Gymnastics). It is a terrific facility; about 12,000 square feet with an additional spectators gallery above, bunjie pit, excellent matting and new equipment. It is remarkably clean and spacious though the smell of stale sweat hangs in the air just as it does back home.

You might expect I would go straight to sleep then — nope — Rugby was on TV. Rugby is a religion in Christchurch. The Crusaders are undefeated! An infidel Canadian here must immediately be educated in the intricacies of the sport. (One stadium is known as THE HOUSE OF PAIN.)

New Zealanders as you probably know are friendly and down-to-earth. I have been very impressed with my welcome here. One of the gym families has put me up for the first 7 weeks in a guest suite with private entrance. The rumoured kayak transport to and from the gym looks not to be feasible. I bike or walk instead along the lovely Avon River which is crowded with ducks and rowers.

The gym is very well organized by the Executive Officer and my boss Avril Enslow who is one of the top judges in the gymnastics world. The competitive girls are fit and quite good. My predecessor, a Russian coach, has done a good job emphasizing basics.

He eventually came to grief coaching the teenage girls. This is an old story in gymnastics.

Everyone sums up the club with one phrase; great potential.

It is a good challenge for me and one I am enjoying a lot so far. (This after 9 hours in the gym today.)

We plan to build up the boys program this season and add trampoline sports and aerobics in the near future. We even offer Adult Recreational gymnastics. No doubt the club is on the way up and it is fun to be a big part of that progress.

See you down under?

purenz

I always have part-time work for visiting gymnastics coaches.

– Kiwi Rick

___

Interested in a gap year? In the process of planning a gap year? Loved your own gap year? Have no idea what we’re talking about?

The ‘gap year’ is (very) loosely defined as any amount of time taken out of normal life in order to whoop it up in different parts of the world.

There are no rules and the definition is broad to allow for all types of adventures.

Grown Up Gap Years by Tony Wheeler, Lonely Planet author and co-founder:

Another gap year? Been there, done that. Mine is ancient history, almost 30 years ago, when I managed to reach Afghanistan on my early ’70s gap year. I’m far too old now, aren’t I?

Come to think of it, however, I have had another, more recent gap year. In 1996 I moved to Paris with my wife, Maureen, and our two children for a year. We’d kicked around the idea of living somewhere else for ages and finally decided to do it before the children got too far along in their school careers. We enrolled them in an international school, near the Eiffel Tower. With emails, mobile phones and so on, I figured I could work out of Paris just as easily as anywhere else in the world. It was terrific, none of us wanted to leave at the end of the year.

So why shouldn’t there be more gap years – even at my age? Not everybody can shift workplaces as I did, but these days more people can manage time off. Indeed, for many, retirement no longer means simply carrying on in the same place, as if nothing has changed apart from the daily journey to work. Gap years shouldn’t just be for the young, though being young at heart is probably a requirement. And these days people seem to be able to manage this long after their passports shout ‘slow down.’

A couple of years ago I joined a trek in Tibet. We faced a seven-day walk across Nepal simply to reach the start, yet one of our fellow walkers was 74 years of age. The trail, which included crossing a pass higher than the Everest Base Camp, didn’t faze him. I later learnt that his gap year travels have taken him from the Himalayas to the Kalahari.

After a lifetime of travel, I hate the thought of stopping in one place, and the idea of serial retirement villages has become a favourite conversation topic: a year in New York would be fun; we’ve always wanted to spend longer in Japan; and another year in France certainly wouldn’t hurt. House-swapping, renting a flat, even buying a Land-Rover and spending 12 months driving from Alaska to Tierra del Fuego, have all featured in those dreams.

new.zealand.christchurch

to New Zealand

Mar 10, 2002

rick_mugI have been looking for work. I really need a Masters degree in Education in a hurry — preferably from a prestigious non-accredited University based on my present knowledge and life experience.

Anyone know where I can get one? …
Ian Wright’s job was not available.

I’m a sucker for the Olympics. You?

The Salt Lake City Games had some great moments. I loved the opening ceremonies. Curling was fascinating. (I must be a Canadian.) Skeleton was great. Cross country skiing was impressive.

The best was short track skating — no question. Madder than rollerball.

The hockey games were energizing. My favourite players were Wickenheiser and Fleury. There’s something primal about gladiators with sticks.

One sad line on this Olympics is the fall of the Soviet Union as a proud sports superpower. They are coming to grips with the beginning of the end of their world leadership in my field, amateur sport. Tiny, disorganized countries like Canada are starting to win more medals at the Olympics.

The media has this simplistic fixation on medal counts ignoring more important stats:

+ percentage of personal bests
+ performance / capita
+ performance / tax dollar spent

Besides the Olympics I have never been less interested in TV.

I’d watch more TV if only they had my kind of show on the air. Someone should broadcast nothing but bikini clad chicks posing in the surf for hours.

I heard Moby speak on copyright infringement — downloading digital media without payment to the artist. His interesting twist on this issue was to speculate that — if this kind of theft is inevitable in the future — only those musicians who can draw a live crowd will be able to thrive. Musicians must return to their roots as performers. He feels that many artists tour today only to boost CD sales & that many are not entertaining live.

I’m a digital artist too.

Check my latest page on my hiking site:

The West Coast Trail

Everything you NEED to know to hike the West Coast Trail. (Is it on your life-to-do list?)

WL recommended some great books, the Hyperion series by an amazing author, Dan Simmons. This is science fiction at least equal to Dune and the Azimov Foundation series.

The other significant book of late was given me by RS; Quest for Adventure, by Chris Bonnington, 1981. Bonnington, a famed mountaineer, compares 21 true stories of adventurers who challenged oceans, deserts, snow, mountains and space. The guy who first rowed across the Atlantic, for example.

The Golden Globe challenge was one of the best. Of the many who set out to sail around the world single-handed, a near impossible task, only one succeeded. One committed suicide. Another who might have won the race, came to despise our ferocious, competitive society — he kept sailing another half a world to Tahiti.

Me?

Looks like I am off to New Zealand in early April.

I will be Head Coach of the gym club in Christchurch, south island.

Christchurch peninsula
Christchurch peninsula

Come visit. 🙂

photos – Kansas City Royal barbecue

I joined Rockin’ Ronnie Shewchuk’s barbecue team as videographer to document the predicted victory at the Royal American competition. Great grub!

To see annotated competition photos jump to the permanent webpage in Rick’s photo archive. OPEN icon

Humans Are Animals Too – West Coast Trail

Dear Parks Canada,

Humans are animals too.

A murder of crows took my bagel at 8:15 am July 25th at Camper Bay on the West Coast Trail. Please have the crows there humanely dispatched as you put down troublesome bears, cougars, banana slugs and Killer whales. …

For the rest of this comic travelogue on the WCT jump to the permanent webpage in Rick’s photo archive. OPEN icon

Zion – Vegas by Greyhound

July 2001

Zion, Utah is one of the best National Parks in the USA.

rick_mug

Where is everyone?

Of the 16 hikers booked on the 6 AM shuttle to the trailhead, I’m the only one that showed. The rest we assumed decided to go back to bed after checking the dark clouds overhead that morning.

I was waiting to hike Zion Narrows, a 12 mile slot canyon river walk.

Narrow canyons have a distressing tendency to flash flood. In 1998 two California hikers drowned here, their bodies washed miles downstream.

Still, there have been only 22 flash flood fatalities in Utah since 1950. The far greater danger is hypothermia. You can freeze in the canyon when the temperature is 100 degrees F+ up above.

narrowsTurned out I had the canyon to myself, wading the shallow stream, scrambling boulders, red rock cliffs towering as much as 1000 feet on both sides. These are the Narrows of the Virgin River, and, as you know, Virgin narrows are tight. It’s a fantastic, eerie feeling to slosh the canyon alone, wind blasts alternating direction.

I looked for high ground when it began to rain. (There’s no chance of a flash flood in June — I’d been assured by the guy who rented me “canyoneering” gear.)

In fact, I did not go for a sudden high velocity swim. I walked 10 hours before sighting day hikers splashing at the Canyon exit.

Zion National Park is amazing, one of the best of the dozens of attractions in the U.S. South West. I’d long wanted to hike here and in the hoodoos of nearby Bryce National Park, also great.

The big U.S. Parks are installing shuttle buses and removing personal vehicles from park roads. VERY convenient. This green forward thinking does not extend outside the Parks, however, and I had to hitch out of both Zion and Bryce.

Hitchhiking seems a lost art in the U.S. of A. I didn’t see any other hitchhikers in 2 weeks. One character who gave me a lift was organizing the “National Mountain Man Rendezvous”; thousands gather to relive Western life in the 1800s, full regalia required.

Hitching is a drag, but it may still be faster and more convenient than the bus. I had a 15 day Greyhound pass. OUCH! Greyhound U.S.A. is bad, much inferior to Greyhound Canada.

The main upside is the entertainment value of the passengers; mostly elderly, ethnic, and/or eccentric. There’s no better people watching to be had. And I built up some good karma; spotting midgets up bus stairs, assisting a gent with his 11 bags, rescuing hapless customers from rude Greyhound employees, translating for confused Hispanic mothers.

One loco enviromaniac sat down beside me. He lived on roots, moths, rabbit and road kill fox in the Mexican desert. On one bus I missed was an “escaped” man infected with T.B. — passengers were later asked to report to medical authorities.

You do get a weird perspective on the U.S.A. when you travel by bus. It’s like traveling in a third world country. Small town ramshackle buildings collapse on main streets. There seems to be no zoning bylaws (or any laws at all) in ghost town wannabes like Dillon, Montana and Goldfield, Nevada (on the “Extraterrestrial Highway”).

Cramped and dirty, Greyhound depots in the U.S. are often awful; plastic food displays, hairnets, stern warnings against smoking and boozing on the bus. Some depots have been moved to McDonald’s; “McChicken, coffee, and a one-way ticket to Vegas, please.”

Last time in Vegas I left convinced the world must end soon — no God could allow the kind of flagrant excess of this new Gomorrah.

Well … Vegas is improving. It’s now touted as a family destination. The gambling, free booze, and show girls are lesser attractions than the shows, restaurants, and the outrageous resorts themselves.

My terrific hosts in Vegas were Dan & Terri. I saw the Cirque du Soleil shows “Mystere” and “O”, both excellent.

A friend from Lethbridge, Steve, arrived the same day. We trekked the billion dollar casinos (all built with the money of “winners”) and tucked into a Vegas buffet.

slots_addict
Steve’s a winner at slots

With Tom & Karen, two more transplanted Cirque Canadians, we celebrated Terri’s birthday at a Mexican restaurant; saw a prop comedian named Carrot Top; and finished the evening with Las Vegas crooners at the Brown Derby.

Too much fun.

A US$100 round of golf was fun — but not too much fun.

mcfollowthru
McFollowthru (more golf photos)

I went with Dan & Terri & family up to Navajo Lake, Utah for a relaxed camping and fishing break, a nice escape from the heat and excitement of Vegas.

Dan fishing

Next stop Vancouver to visit Ron & Kate. I foresee great food, great drink, kayaking, beaching, hiking, running … and getting stuck half way up a crack scrambling The Chief near Squamish.

Wish me luck.

Mexico – Feliz Navidad

Dec. 1999

rick_mug

I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas.
I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas.
I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas.
From the bottom of my heart.

Just in time for Christmas, I’m back from Mexico — happy to be out of that boring perfect weather into the festive Canadian cold & slush, the urgency of impending blizzard.

I got lucky finding a flight home from La Paz, Mexico just hours before the 25th.

baja_mapI got there by ferry from the mainland, over to Baja — a stark, dry, littered wasteland which none-the-less attracts over 50 million! visitors every year.

“The land supports a variety of obdurate and malicious flora; there are thistles underfoot and Cardon cacti (the world’s largest) towering overhead. … Every growing thing, or so it seems, sticks, stabs, or stinks.
(Tim Cahill)

I went to Cabo. I can’t explain it.
(Bill Bryson)

I guess I wanted to see for myself the tourist trap described by my guidebook as a depressing jumble of exorbitantly priced hotels, pretentious restaurants, rowdy bars and tacky souvenir stands…. Its quintessential experience might be to stagger out of a bar at 3 am, pass out on the beach, and be crushed at daybreak by a rampaging developer’s bulldozer.

I hitched with 2 of those Mexican architect / developer condo commandos who had been up boozing all night & whom were now driving home to Cabo. We passed an overturned 4×4, crashed the night before.

“Probably drinking & driving. Another beer Amigo?”

Cabo San Lucas is smaller & less glitzy than I expected. The marina will be stunning when the construction is finished. Looks like a good town for a blow-out.

But I didn’t stay.

Sorritos Beach

For weeks I had heard rumours of a free, dry surfers beach. Undeveloped. No toilets, no water, no power. Surf fishing. A mucho hip hang-out.

Somebody said it was called Sorritos beach but I couldn’t find it on any map. It’s there. Head towards the water on the dirt track closest to the km 64 road marker.

Idyllic spot. Perfect weather, cloudless but for the spray haze off the huge breakers. You can walk the beach, read, doze in the sun, or watch the surfers crash.

It’s dark by 5:30 pm this time of year. And the slim crescent moon dipped into the sea early leaving more room for the stars. I made a wish at every meteoric flash.

From Sorittos I wanted to try the most popular hike in Baja, Sierra de la Laguna, a unique alpine meadow nestled high between peaks on the peninsula.

baj

Receiving more than 10 times the normal rainfall, this oasis in the mountains grows palms, oaks, aspens, & pine trees; providing refuge for species now extinct in the rest of Baja.

I didn’t make it. About 2 hours from the top, my leg muscles cramped up. I was finished.

My hiking partner, a young Brit named Richard, dashed up without me. I felt he was fit enough. He had recently sailed 2000 miles from Seattle to San Diego, then mountain-biked another 1000 miles in Baja — without a hat!

I sat. Enjoyed the fantastic views out over the desert to the sea. Read “Zen & the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance”.

Richard rejoined me next day for the hike down the mountain and the 11 mile! hike out to the highway through thorn forest, sand, & blistering heat.

You haven’t had a BEER until you’ve first climbed off a mountain then trudged 11 miles thorough desert. You haven’t.

We limped into “Frank’s Shut-up & Drink” (something like that), the kind of bar that attracts end-of-the-liners; washed-up surfers, trust fund kids, eccentrics, & run-of-the-mill alcoholics who drifted west, then south to Land’s End.

One of my companion morons wants to be King of North Dakota where he heard he can buy a house for $3000. I advised him, “Why not Minot? The reason, it’s freezin”.

Run to the sun?

If you ever want to travel Mexico I’d recommend to motor Baja, to drive a VW van or older model American-built shaggin’-wagon-type camperized van. These are easily repaired. Bring a tent & toys: kayaks & motorbikes.

And if you ever need to flee home, talk to me first. I’ll tell you how to vamoose to Mexico. No Butch / Sundance shoot-out. Guaranteed.

We plan someday to kayak Espiritu Santo island out of La Paz, Baja.

kayak

Happy Holidays!

I’m thinking of you, hoping you follow your bliss over the holidays, taking some time to do exactly as you please.

Merry Christmas to you and yours.

– Ricardo