Food Technology

I am a few months out from beginning my doctoral studies, but in an effort to keep the analytical brain juices flowing during this hiatus, I have some comments on an editorial I recently read in the NY Times by Michael Pollan. Pollan is the author of noteworthy works such as The Botany of Desire, Second Nature, and more recently, The Omnivore’s Dilemma – which I have not yet read but plan to – among others. With such writings to his credit, Pollan is, indeed, an intriguing author, especially among the horticulturally-inclined, like myself. Yet, Pollan readily admits to not being a horticulturist. He is a writer – a writer with a penchant for gardening, plants, and food culture – a writer with a gift for taking these seemingly mundane subjects and peeling away layers of provocative discussion like the leaves of an onion. How appropriate, then, that his editorial focused on another leafy vegetable.

In “The Vegetable-Industrial Complex” (October 15, 2006), Pollan examined the recent E. coli scare that swept the United States, which was linked to the consumption of bagged spinach processed in the Salinas Valley of California. The Salinas Valley is considered the “Salad Bowl of the United States,” and one drive through this terrain east of Monterey will lend no dispute. The valley is a sea of green and purple lettuce leaves, bushy broccoli and cabbage plants, almost any edible leafy or Brassica species found on supermarket shelves is grown there and shipped all over the country. Those tight rows of continuous production are beautiful in my mind, tucked between mountain ranges, nourished by fertile soils, and kept fresh with the morning breath of coastal fog. At harvest time, meticulous hands guard against blemish, and processors wash, bag, and ship the produce for consumer convenience. These cash commodities usually appear immaculate on supermarket shelves when perused by customers, but there are some things that the eye cannot see. We do not live in a utopia; sometimes things go wrong.

That is what happened in the fall of 2006 – something went wrong. Somehow E. coli infiltrated batches of one of our beloved leafy greens – spinach – this crop that we have come to know and love, cleaned of any trace of its field origin, tightly sealed for freshness in ‘controlled-atmosphere’ bags, and ready to serve. Speculation grew regarding the cause of this outbreak. Terrorists were ruled out, but so many variables lay unanswered for quite some time.

Rather than continue with the speculation, in “The Vegetable-Industrial Complex”, Pollan addressed other concerns perhaps more fundamental than the emanating but transient health scare. He addressed the source of our food, the technology we use to achieve its mass-production, and consumer choice. Pollan questioned whether we are getting ahead of ourselves with technological advances in our food systems – whether the technology which helps us grow it, preserve it, ship it, and even solve the problems surrounding it are really to our benefit. As a scientist – a horticultural scientist at that – I could not help but be intrigued by his proclamations.

To elucidate his claims, Pollan reflected on another E. coli incident in the not-too-distant past where U.S. beef was found with a deadly strain. Pollan noted that the strain of E. coli found was one only present in grain-fed beef. He went on to suggest that if we were less dependent on these feedlot cattle and instead consumed locally-raised, pasture-fed beef, the problem would never have arisen. Then, he relates this past incident to the recent spinach outbreak by suggesting that if more of us shopped locally for our produce, the E. coli outbreak originating from the Salinas Valley may not have been the grand issue that it was. We have become too dependent on technology to grow our food – the technology to grow masses of grains to feed our feedlot cattle, the technology to grow pristine vegetables which are shipped across the country, among all the other technologies of our agricultural industries. Instead, if we stepped back from technology and supported local agriculture, we might have a better understanding and appreciation for food and have stronger local economies.

These are some ideas that, in fact, I really like, being the utopian-hopeful that I am. Nevertheless, I am not insinuating that these are not complicated suggestions. For example, are people living in places where certain crops will not grow well supposed to live without this cherished produce? No, I am not suggesting that. After all, most Americans would not be eating bananas if that were the case. Second, mass-production and technology has made our food cheap and readily available. That is a convenience that, as a student, I can certainly appreciate.

But, I do agree that we should all make efforts to support locally-grown produce and perhaps make efforts to move away from technology to source the product and resolve the problem. From past experiences working with young students of urban settings, it was disheartening to hear them say that meat comes from Styrofoam and milk from a carton. Today, probably many of them think that spinach comes from a bag. Yes, I agree that technology – with all its benefits – also has its costs. It is important that future scientists of any field remember this. Utopia aside, our future health, security, and happiness depend on it.

Homeward Bound and Concluding Remarks

My final days in New Zealand I spent taking in sites I was determined to see before departure. On a rainy Saturday, I went up to the Coromandel Peninsula again to see the praised Cathedral Cove and experience the naturally warm waters of Hot Water Beach. Even in a misty rainy, Cathedral Cove was beautiful – carved by the strength of waves to mold an arch resembling a house of worship. Along the approaching trail, I witnessed a lime-green spiral – the shape of the New Zealand silver fern before it unravels its frown. At Hot Water Beach, kids dug holes in the sand until they hit water, water from a naturally warm stream beneath the sand. (It is not the ocean water from which this beach gets its name.) I also spied a beached, baby hammerhead shark on the sand. It was dead, but it must have been recently stranded, as it had not begun to deteriorate and was an interesting specimen. With this final trip, I didn’t see every possible wonder of New Zealand, but I came pretty close.

My final days in New Zealand I spent wrapping up loose ends. I sold my car to a couple of Chilean girls who didn’t realize I understood their Spanish conversations. I wrote an article for the Kiwifruit Journal on vine training the gold kiwifruit – the thesis of the project which occupied my time at HortResearch. I brought scones to work for morning tea on my final day – to everyone’s delight, but there was a bit of dismay when we wrapped up my final lunch time volleyball game. Even my sarcastic officemate/boss expressed a bit of disappointment at the end of the day, saying he would miss my “American accent.” It was definitely a bittersweet moment saying goodbye to these people who had not only become my colleagues but also my friends. I only hope I made half the impression on them as they made on me.

My final days in New Zealand I spent relaxing and enjoying the company of friends. The weather was perfect in my final week – warm and sunny with occasional puffy clouds. I enjoyed running a few more times around and up Mount Maunganui, meandering along the beach, relaxing outside sun-bathed café patios, and relishing in the onset of spring. (After all, it will be quite some time before I actually enjoy a full spring.) I had dinner with a few people from work and bid a sorrowful farewell to my good friend Marcela.

And then it was time to go home. I boarded the giant Boeing 777 at 7:30pm on Saturday. After a movie and a meal, I slept surprisingly well, despite the two crying babies. I awoke to bright sunshine reflecting off the Pacific, and shortly thereafter, I saw land. “California here I come. Right back where I started from.” It almost seemed surreal. Was I really approaching my continent, my country, my state? When I set foot in the San Francisco airport, it was 12:30pm on Saturday. By crossing the international dateline, I had gone backwards in time. My whole family, minus my older brother who was busy harvesting tomatoes, was there to greet me. Welcomed faces for my welcome home. It had been a long time…

California is quite dry, as to be expected, at this time of year. The golden grasses were the antithesis of the endless green of the island country. The juxtaposition of spring to autumn will take some time to grasp, and I am still getting my head around driving on the right-hand side of the road. Tomatoes are being harvested as usual; my room is the same as when I left it. My mom still cooks the food I like just the way I like it, and my dad and I share in jokes and insightful conversations just as before. Most everything seems the same, but I feel slightly changed. My family said my hair looks darker; my skin is pale. Sometimes I blurt out phrases in Spanish or silly Kiwi expressions, but these are only on the surface. For anyone who has done a bit of world travel, I don’t have to say twice that the United States is an interesting place to call home. I am a patriotic person, but I now also have an outsider’s perspective. We, as Americans, are respected, and we are despised. We are viewed as powerful; we are viewed as intrusive. Some have ambitions of visiting our vast lands, some wish to move here, some will never set foot. There are stereotypes – some are true and some couldn’t be farther from the truth. People will hear what they wish to hear and believe what they wish to believe. I accepted some of these perspectives; I refuted others, but I absorbed all of these things. My travels this year will remain in my heart and mind forever, and I will continue to learn from them day after day. But, no matter the differences I may have encountered, no matter the changes I might have undergone, despite the different languages that we speak, the different lands that we come from, and the different waters that divide us, we are all just one people, and we have so much to learn from each other. It is so nice to be home, but home means so much more now.

There are a few more pictures to view from my final days in New Zealand at my Shutterfly account. And as for 'what next for this blog?', well, stay tuned. You never know how it may transform. After all, I'm still wandering...

August/September Dreer Fellowship Report

Horticulture and Culture: The Human Element of Sustainability

Kiwifruit production in New Zealand proceeds under the standards of organic and conventional. Remembering that their term ‘conventional’ is synonymous with our ‘integrated’, this is the sector of the industry which produces the majority of the $720 million dollar annual crop. Organic production is only a fraction of that total. With three million trays of organic fruit exported in 2005, this only accounted for four percent of the crop and three percent of the market share in that year. Area planted has been decreasing in recent years, down eight percent in 2005. Such statistics may seem puzzling, since New Zealand’s reputation for sustainable agricultural practices are known the world over and because crops like apple and kiwifruit are regulated under mandatory integrated management as a minimum standard. But, perhaps it is for these reasons that organic production remains low. Because organic production requires further restrictions and farm modifications, particular attention must be paid to the bottom line. Kiwifruit exports are already extremely profitable in Asian markets – regardless of whether the crop is organic or integrated – thus, there is little room for boosting economic incentives for organic fruit. While integrated fruit has an average farm gate return of $37,600 per hectare, organic fruit only returns $37,000 per hectare. Thus, if the economic incentive is not there, organic production tends to be carried primarily by those who support its environmental implications, appreciate it for health and safety reasons, and believe in it as a system. It is an example of a culture within horticulture.

Organic Production

In my last month and a half in New Zealand, I attended a series of meetings hosted by growers of the Certified Organic Kiwifruit Association (COKA). From the discussions, I gained a better understanding of the issues related to organic kiwifruit production. Two of the major pest problems faced by all kiwifruit growers, but which are particularly difficult to manage in organic production, are the Armillaria fungus and scale insects. The initial symptoms of Armillaria infection are canopy wilting and yellowing, but because these symptoms are not specific to Armillaria per se, growers have become attentive to the signs. The true sign of Armillaria infection is the presence of the white fungus under the bark layer. This fungus often causes the bark to swell and crack – easing the investigation – and the fungus itself has a strong mushroom odor. Black rhizomorphs may also be seen branching from root hairs. The gravity of Armillaria occurs when the fungus girdles entire vines and when fruit is affected, causing softening and bruising. Because organic growers are restricted from pesticide use, they have been innovative in their management strategies. First, they have found that simply pruning to keep the canopy in balance with the roots helps mitigate the disease by keeping water and nutrients in balance. Another method of control employed by these growers is water ‘sluicing’ and root removal. Because Armillaria is spread by root-to-root contact, growers have found that by examining roots and severing them from the plant, spread of the disease can be drastically reduced. To accomplish this, growers will wash away soil around the base of the trunk, exposing the roots. If the roots appear infected, then they are cut from the base. This prevents the fungus from moving up the trunk and also prevents it from moving to other roots, which may be in contact with roots from other vines.

Scale insects are the major insect pests infecting both integrated and organic kiwifruit. Both integrated and organic growers generally use pre and post-flower sprays to control scale, but organic sprays tend to come in the form of mineral or fish oils. Fish oil is a relatively new oil when used for this purpose, and whereas mineral oils may be more effective, they have been shown to cause phytotoxicity in some cases. Fish oil also has the benefit of acting as a fertilizer, but more research is needed to know whether it has any tangential effects. Nonetheless, which ever oil is being employed, it is generally believed that oils perform better than insecticides against scale because they act as repellants so that the eggs cannot stick to the canes. Thus, the life cycle is broken. Oils also do not tend to kill beneficial insects like broad-spectrum insecticides. Incarsia wasp species are known to parasitize sedentary scales, and earwigs predate them.

Also discussed at the COKA meetings were various cultural practices. Soil management is always an important topic among organic growers. Most growers in the Bay of Plenty are applying compost annually to improve the percent organic matter and macronutrients in the soil and increase worm and other beneficial microbial populations. Some growers have come to rely completely on vermicompost for that reason. Others are applying fish meal, fish water, and other organically-certified fertilizers to improve their chemical, physical, and biological soil components. Growers in the Waikato region reported not to apply compost, however, because nutrient levels in that region are sufficient.

Other cultural practices which were discussed included managing shettlerbelts to prevent them as acting alternate hosts of pests and diseases, trunk girdling and how it could lead to poorer root health if employed year after year, and how proper pollination could improve fruit quality and size.

Organic Research

The Agriculture Research Group on Sustainability (ARGOS) began in October 2003 as an unincorporated joint venture project among Lincoln University, the University of Otago, and the Agribusiness Group Ltd. The purpose of ARGOS is to ‘examine the environmental, social and economic sustainability of New Zealand farming systems.’ What started off focusing on sheep and beef pasture land management, ARGOS has embarked on a ‘Pathways to Sustainability’ study which also includes investigations of kiwifruit, high country, dairy, and Maori land holdings management. The primary goal of the projects combined is to discover determinants of sustainability, regardless of the agriculture sector.

Before leaving New Zealand, I met with the program director of the ARGOS kiwifruit project, Jayson Benge. The kiwifruit study involves 36 privately-managed orchards, equally divided among Hayward orchards under integrated management, Hort16A under integrated management, and Hayward under organic management. The majority of these orchards are in the Bay of Plenty region, but a few reside near Kerikeri in the north and Moteuka on the South Island. Currently in its fourth year of study, the years prior have focused on collecting farm data past and present, with the goal of the next three years being to improve sustainability. Because the key difference between organic and integrated production is inputs, the project will investigate whether differences in soil and vine health occur and how yield and finances vary between the two. At the conclusion of the project, the aim is to have reduced the gap between the environmental impacts of organic and integrated production and to have developed clear means of transferring the findings to growers.

Transferring knowledge on sustainability has always been a difficult task, and that is because the term ‘sustainability’ has, at best, had varying definitions and means different things to different people. For these reasons, the ARGOS program is shifting its terminology to focus on a ‘Resilience Theory.’ Whereas ‘sustainability’ suggests system vulnerability, ‘resilience’ implies a system’s ability to withstand unintentional changes and thrive under intended ones. For example, a focus of ARGOS will be monitoring biodiversity – biodiversity of wildlife, endangered species, and even soil biota. Soil health, wetland and stream water quality, and beneficial insect populations will also be monitored. Through these projects, a primary goal is to improve land stewardship, and as a result, improve relations among land owners, environmental groups, and government bodies.

Concluding Remarks

Just as the ARGOS project has its base in scientific study yet includes a goal of strengthening relations among sectors of the population, at this – the conclusion of my year abroad under the support of the Dreer Fellowship – I believe that what I have learned and how I have grown goes beyond my scientific understanding of horticulture in other parts of the world. I also gained an appreciation for different peoples and cultures.

Take, for example, the grower survey that I conducted on Hort16A vine training systems. Through this project, I witnessed innovation in the field, and I tried my own hand at pruning kiwifruit vines. Nevertheless, an important element of the project was simply talking with growers. Aside from personal interviews, at the conclusion of the project, all participating growers were invited to a presentation, and an interesting discussion followed. We discussed how controlled research would be a good next step and what the growers planned to do in the future. The hesitations of growers were divulged in honest accounts unlike anything I have observed in the United States. Perhaps this stems from their one-marketer marketing system where information and profits are shared, or from the fact that this fruit bears their name, and Kiwi growers take great pride in their crop and want to see it thrive.

Speaking of pride, that is just how the Spanish view their olives and olive oil. Not only is there pride in the varieties they breed and their standards for quality oil, there is a cultural pride for this historic fruit. The tree, the fruit, and the oil – all influenced the settlement, religious establishment, and prosperity of the country. Today, it remains in the culture as a food staple and a livelihood for many families. From the past to the present, the olive is engraved into the history of Spain.

History also explains the winegrape in Chile’s culture. Introduced by Spanish missionaries, the dry climate of Chile’s central valley proved an optimal location for the crop, and when Chilean wine began competing with European wine, it was an omen for the future. Today, Chilean wine is not only enjoyed by its own people but also by people worldwide. Chilean winemakers have learned from the most prestigious of European and Californian producers but compete with them with their own high-quality, low-priced product.

And how does the culture of these crops relate to my overall objective of studying horticultural sustainability in these countries? Sustainability is not simply a focus on managing agriculture in such ways that is harmonious with the environment. Sustainability also includes a human element. A crop is not sustainable if it does not sustain the livelihoods of the people who grow it. After all, it is these people who steward the land. By growing a crop and making a living, these people respect that, in order for future successes to follow, they must care for the land. Sustainability might mean change in their methods over time, but it should not mean hindrance from the end goals. It is impossible to restore our environment to a pre-human existence, and there isn’t a place on the Earth which hasn’t been influenced by our touch, so it is important that we use our hands to continue molding and shaping. Sustainability, because it is a nebulous term, is something we will never completely attain, but with an understanding for its environmental and human components – in viewing man as part of nature – it is a goal toward which to keep striving. That is what I have learned this year….

References

Kerr, J., E. Hewett, and A. Aitken. 2005. “HortResearch Fresh Facts – New Zealand Horticulture” (brochure). ISSN 1177-2190. ISBN 0-477-10014-7. pp 1-33.

“Welcome to ARGOS” (website). 2004. ARGOS: Agriculture Research Group on Sustainability. Viewed September 2006. http://www.argos.org.nz.

Travels with Visitors

At the end of August, my two good friends from UC Davis – Sarah and Elisa – came to visit me. I played tour guide in this country which is not my own but which has become my home these last few months. We enjoyed local attractions – like Mount Maunganui and Papamoa Hills, and we ventured beyond so that they could understand the physical diversity of this island country. In Rotorua, we visited a wildlife park which showcased a variety of introduced species. New Zealand has myriad native birds but no native mammals, so visiting a wildlife park was a bit ironic but fun nonetheless. And since Rotorua is the center of geothermal activity, a trip was not complete without views of hot springs, geysers, and bubbling mud.

We also took a day and went up to the Coromandel Peninsula. I had not yet been to the Coromandel, touted for its beautiful beaches and off-the-beaten-path location. We tagged along with Garry from work, who needed to download temperature data from a kiwifruit orchard there. After about 30 minutes of “work,” we went to his family’s “batch.” Many Kiwis have vacation homes near the coast, and Garry and his family have one along Whangapoa Beach. It is a nice little community, made even nicer because it was desolate at this time of year. We ate our lunches and then went for a beach walk. Along the way, we came upon a stream. I rolled up my pants and forged my way across, but Sarah and Elisa – fearing the water would go waist high on them – got piggy back rides from Garry. I got pictures of this, but I will spare them the humiliation and not post them. We hopped across boulders and then scaled a cliff to a look out point. From there, turquoise waters met an immaculate beach. Back at ground level, native palms emerged from red soils, and sea shells littered the sand, assembling a collage.

After a few days, we packed up my car and left the Bay of Plenty. Our first destination was the West Coast – more specifically the Taranaki region – home of rugged surf, black sand beaches, and Mount Egmont National Park. We stayed in New Plymouth, a pleasant beach town with a pleasant climate. We walked through the town’s Pukekur
a Gardens and the Pukeiti Gardens just outside of town. Given the temperate climate, there is something in bloom in New Plymouth during all months of the year. With the onset of spring, we were fortunate to catch vibrant rhododendrons, azaleas, and camellias. Unfortunately, the weather was not quite as vibrant, so our only glimpse of Mount Egmont was leaving town, peering behind us to see the peak edge its way above the clouds. Despite the lack-luster mountain view, the countryside was pastorally breathtaking. To our right were the ebony beaches, and to our left were verdant pastures where dairy cattle grazed the lush vegetation. Egmont erupts from these level grounds, and in fact, it is famous for being the closest volcano to the sea. I found the region of Taranaki especially beautiful, perhaps one of the most beautiful of all that I had seen in New Zealand. It exuded such a sense of peace.

From there, we traveled down to Wellington, New Zealand’s capital city. I had heard many nice things about Wellington – its museums, its sites, its cultural scene – and I discovered all the praise to be true. Wellington is an exciting city without being daunting. Contained by hills and harbor, the city is limited in expanse. The downtown area is compact and pedestrian friendly. We visited Te Papa museum, the national museum whose name means “Our Place” in the Maori tongue. Modern and interactive, the multi-level museum displays the natural features of New Zealand – from sea to volcano to mountain – and describes the forces of Mother Nature that brought these features to be. Earthquake, fire, tsunami – all have influenced the physical features of New Zealand. But, another force that has shaped this isolated country is the force of man. Once covered almost entirely with native bush, only a fraction of this forest now exists. Displays outline how Maori and European settlement, introduction of foreign flora and fauna, and adaptation of the land to agricultural use has transformed the islands into essentially grasslands. It was interesting to observe these displays with an “outsider’s” perspective, as we generally perceived New Zealand’s vast greenery as idyllic, not alarming.

And while in Wellington, one must do a couple of touristy things. We took the cable car up to the botanic garden, where spring wasn’t quite as advanced as it was in Taranaki, but where we still enjoyed fragrant gardens, evergreens, and newly emerged tulips. We also took a tour of the Parliament and “Beehive” executive buildings. The Parliament building is made completely of New Zealand granite. We sat within a committee meeting room adorned in Maori design. The juxtaposition of European and Maori styles made the structure unique. Artwork illustrated moments in New Zealand history, and a glass case humbly displayed a New Zealand flag that was recovered from the World Trade Center. Our tour guide was very informative, but with his first sentence, I turned to Sarah and said, “I think he’s American.” Sure enough, after the tour, I learned that, indeed, he was, and a native Californian, too. After the tour, we had the opportunity to sit in on a Parliamentary session, and a boisterous session it was. There are eight political parties in New Zealand, and the topics of discussion for the day were chiefly poignant for the dominating National and Labour parties. Not particularly concerned with the agenda, I found the whole experience quite humorous with loud chiding and interruption. When we had heard enough arguing, we visited the Parliamentary library – a neo-Gothic building resembling a cathedral. Its pious appearance was not by mistake, as Queen Victoria once described libraries as ‘cathedrals of knowledge,’ and hence, the design was made. We also went to the National Cathedral itself, which aside from the frontal crucifix, looked less like a church than the neighboring library. And of course, for me, a trip to a new place would not be complete without running to the top of a mountain, so the lookout point atop Mount Victoria was also one of my destinations.

On the drive back to the Bay of Plenty, along the Desert Road of Tongoriro National Park, clear, blue skies made the snow-laden mountains glisten. This snow melts and drains into Lake Taupo – New Zealand’s largest lake – which feeds the Waikato River – the country’s longest. I stopped at Huka Falls to see the rushing waters, which were as blue as the sky.

To see pictures, go to my Shutterfly website.

July Dreer Fellowship Report

From Kiwifruit to Pipfruit – Diversifying My Experiences

Though my work in New Zealand has predominantly focused on kiwifruit, I have taken advantage of opportunities to venture out and work in a more familiar crop from previous studies – apple. As with kiwifruit, learning about the means of production and marketing of this export-focused industry has been fascinating. It also gave me the opportunity to meet HortResearch scientists from other stations, namely Havelock North (Hawkes Bay), Motueka (Nelson), and Mount Albert (Auckland).

There are approximately 11,700 hectares of apples in New Zealand, with half of the production located in the Hawkes Bay region near the southeast corner of the North Island. This is followed by the Nelson, Cantebury, and Otago regions on the South Island, and a small amount of production in the Waikato Plains of the central North Island. Apples are an important domestic crop, as New Zealand is a country near the top in terms of annual per capita consumption, but in fact, what makes this commodity particularly significant is its export value. In 2005, approximately 68% of the annual crop was exported to 58 countries, valued at $387 million (NZD) to the New Zealand economy. The value was further enhanced, as another $33 million (NZD) were exported as processed product. The majority of these exports (71%) went to the European Union.

After profitable years in the 1990’s, the apple industry worldwide has experienced a drop-off in the current decade, primarily due to a surge in Chinese production, which now accounts for 35% of the worldwide product. Because apple consumption in Asia is relatively small compared to that in Europe and North America, this has meant that much of China’s production has entered export channels, which has particularly affected the New Zealand industry given its focus on exportation. This surge also came at a time of internal changes. Like the kiwifruit industry, apples were, until the last few years, controlled by a single supplier – ENZA. Growers, however, voted to deregulate the industry in 2001, and now there are approximately 90 exporters of apples in New Zealand. These worldwide and national factors combined have resulted in less control over commodity price and a drop in the number of growers and area planted since 1995.

Despite these fluctuations, the New Zealand apple industry continues to be an important one, and New Zealand apples account for 6% of the world market. For a country the size of the state of Colorado, this is an impressive stance, and much of it is the result of how growers have adapted to worldwide pressures by making their product unique. In the face of consumers – especially those in the European Union - desiring fruit produced by “sustainable” methods, New Zealand answered the call. In 2002, Kiwi apple growers were the first to begin adapting their practices to an “Integrated Fruit Production” (IFP) system, and shortly thereafter in 2003, the entire New Zealand industry had been converted. The universal adoption of IFP has since set a standard, and consumers have come to recognize New Zealand apples as a quality and safe product.

The Role of HortResearch

Much of the research conducted on Integrated Fruit Production takes place at the HortResearch station in Havelock North in the Hawkes Bay region. The Havelock North station is approximately 150 hectares, and though some of this area is planted to various berry and summer fruits, the majority is planted to apple. Breeding, physiology, post harvest, and pest management scientists are at work there, and given the opportunity to visit, I learned how many are contributing to the knowledge behind IFP. For example, at the time of IFP implementation, each plot of land was given a specific “RPIN” number to assist in identification of farm and fruit. In terms of pesticide spray records, this number and an inventive computer software known as Spray View Analyst, have allowed for a comprehensive spray use diary to be developed, dating back to 1992. Review of this information allows scientists at HortResearch to know which chemicals are most popular, how grower usage compares to average usage, and how dates of application correspond to disease outbreaks and weather patterns. The Property Spray Plan Manager is another program, and it links spraying with Global Information System (GIS) mapping to observe whether chemicals are used where insect resistance has been established.

As a result of closer monitoring, the frequency and types of pesticides being used are also changing. Overall pesticide use in Hawkes Bay and Nelson have fallen 15% and 19%, respectively, in the last two years. Organophosphate use has dropped precipitously in the last ten years, as growers use “softer,” low-residue chemicals. Insect pest monitoring using pheromone traps has helped reduce pesticide use and eliminate “calendar spraying.” Perhaps the most severe pest problem in New Zealand is the Venturia inaequalis pathogen which causes blackspot (apple scab). Blackspot outbreaks are also monitored closely so as to time pesticide applications properly, and organic controls for disease – such as copper and sulfur – are being studied for their efficacy.

Soil management and nutrition, however, tend to be areas where there is a gap in IFP knowledge. Proper soil drainage and high levels of organic matter appear to enhance orchard life and profitability, but fumigation continues to be an important component to orchard renovation and replanting. Fumigation continues to be accepted in IFP because it is a one-time application before the trees are in the ground. It is also accepted because it could help reduce pesticide use later in the life of the orchard. In replanting trials, fumigation with choloropicrin – a broad-spectrum fumigant – was shown to overwhelmingly improve growth of ungrafted rootstocks (M.26) in a soil with replant disease history. Nevertheless, alternatives to undesirable fumigants, such as methyl bromide, are being studied, and alternatives to fumigation altogether are also under investigation.

Post-harvest research is also important in Integrated Fruit Production. Apple washing treatments are currently under investigation as a means of eliminating pests in the packhouse prior to shipping. In preliminary trials, pressurized washing has provided variable results on apple leaf curling midge, but it has improved USDA approval against mealybugs and woolly apple aphid mummies. Questions still remain, however, on how washing may spread bacterial diseases and rots.

Collaboration – HortResearch and Pipfruit New Zealand

Pipfruit New Zealand is the organization which represents apple and pear growers on a national and international level. The responsibilities of this organization are many, including identifying export markets, investigating issues that affect the industry, and making efforts to resolve market uncertainties. The organization also controls the money collected from a grower levy and determines how this money will be spent on research to further benefit the industry. For this reason Pipfruit New Zealand works closely with HortResearch, as much of the funding for HortResearch investigation comes from this levy. The two organizations also collaborate on annual grower seminars during the winter season.

In July, Pipfruit New Zealand hosted two technical seminars for growers and consultants in the Hawkes Bay and Nelson regions. Most of the presentations during these day-long seminars were given by HortResearch scientists, but after my previous Hawkes Bay visit, the seminar organizers from Pipfruit New Zealand and HortResearch requested that I present my Master’s research. Apple replant disease is a worldwide problem, and New Zealand growers are as much affected as growers in New York. Though the problem differs from country to country, and even field to field, the organizers believed that the growers would appreciate a new perspective and insight from abroad. So, I voyaged down to Hawkes Bay and then across Cook Strait on the Inter Island Ferry to Nelson. I relayed my findings on management strategies for apple replant disease to two receptive audiences. Interestingly enough, though, as previously mentioned, replant trials in New Zealand have shown overwhelming improvement in fumigated soil and my experiment showed the contrary, the growers accepted that this further demonstrates the complexity of the syndrome and interesting discussions followed.

Other interesting presentations at these seminars described integrated management of key pests like apple leaf curling midge, woolly apple aphid, and European canker. Other presentations discussed the physiological basis of vigor control in apple rootstocks and light interception in intensive plantings. Aside from the experience I gained from giving a presentation and the knowledge I took away from the others, I also got the opportunity to see these two growing regions (Hawkes Bay again and Nelson for the first time) by attending these technical seminars.

More Apple Research

HortResearch has a station in the Mount Albert suburb of Auckland. Though there is no agricultural land at this urban site, it is nonetheless the largest station, retaining the majority of the 550 HortResearch employees. At Mount Albert, there are many scientists working on entomological and pathological fruit disorders, but during my visit, I participated in a post-harvest and sensory evaluation. Post-harvest and food science investigators were collaborating on a project linking the mechanical post-harvest results of firmness to human sensory of crispness in apple. Ten varieties were used in the study: eight commercial and two unnamed varieties from the Hawkes Bay breeding program. In the laboratory, we were testing the varieties for firmness, soluble solids, and dry matter. Then, samples were taken to a tasting panel, and I observed how sensory panels are conducted. Interestingly enough, though post-harvest laboratory and sensory evaluations are common in apple, rarely are the two linked in an experiment. This study served this purpose and also compared across varieties. Having done little work in post-harvest, this was an interesting learning experience, and an opportunity for me to meet some of the HortResearch scientists in Auckland.

Conclusion

Apple is an important horticultural commodity in New Zealand, both on the domestic and international scene. It was the first crop in New Zealand to develop Integrated Fruit Production standards, and though the industry has had its set of challenges, New Zealand growers and researchers have identified Integrated Fruit Production as a means of delineating their crop from others. The IFP methods of apple growers in New Zealand are leading the world, and New Zealand has become a model for others to follow. My trips to Hawkes Bay, Nelson, and Auckland gave me the opportunity to learn more about IFP in apple and about the apple industry in general. From kiwifruit to pipfruit, my experiences in New Zealand have been diverse.

References

2006. “Growers and Consultants Technical Seminar 2006”. Seminar packet. Hastings and Nelson, New Zealand. July 25 and 27, 2006.

Butcher, M. 2006. Personal communication. May 2006.

Horner, I. 2006. Personal communication. May 2006.

Kerr, J., E. Hewett, and A. Aitken. 2005. “HortResearch Fresh Facts – New Zealand Horticulture” (brochure). ISSN 1177-2190. ISBN 0-477-10014-7. pp 1-33.

Walker, J. 2006. Personal communication. May 2006.

Short Stories

1.) Spring has sprung? The temperature is rising ever so gradually. The days are lengthening minute by minute. Birds are chirping, and daffodils are blooming. Are these signs of an early spring? I am hoping so, but I am not getting my hopes up too soon. After all, I saw daffodils pelleted with snow in Ithaca many a time. Not that I am expecting snow here, but frosts are still possible. It would be nice to experience at least a taste of spring before returning home to autumn and yet another winter.

2.) The Birds. I have had a few scary incidences with seagulls lately. I have never been a fan of these birds, but I especially don’t like them when they dive down at me squaking! Seriously! It was really alarming! This has happened on three separate occasions, in three different places, but all while I was running. Perhaps I was running near some sort of territorial spot? Perhaps, but then why weren’t their kamikaze patterns directed at other pedestrians in the area? In all three cases, I literally had to take shelter to protect myself from their Hitchcock-like wrath.

3.) Practical jokes. My officemate, Shane, and I get along very well. He can be incredibly sarcastic, but he has learned that I, too, can dish out the jokes. One of the things sitting on Shane’s desk is a sort of hand-sized rubber ball, and he finds pleasure in throwing it at me from time to time, when I’m deep at work and not expecting it. Well, I got back at him recently but might have started a war of retaliation.

First, I must preface the story with this seemingly random but purposeful note. Here in New Zealand, there is a yeast-based spread for toast and crackers called Marmite. In my opinion, the look of Marmite is most unappetizing – thick and dark brown – and the smell is just hideous. I did try it, just to say that I had. It didn’t make me gag, but it’s not something I care to eat ever again.

So, back to my story. When Shane came into the office yesterday, the secretary whose office is across the hall from ours, and I had booby-trapped the door handle with a smearing of Marmite. (Juanita, the good Kiwi that she is, likes Marmite and has a jar in her office to have at lunch. She knows that I don’t think much of it, so she laughed when I suggested that this was actually a good use for it.) When Shane came in and opened the door, he soon discovered what we had done, and Juanita and I broke out hysterically. (People later told us they could hear us laughing clear down the hallway.) Shane even admitted that that would be a hard practical joke to top, but I know he’ll try, so I have to stay alert.

Southbound

Excitement had been building throughout the month of July. My trip had been organized for some time. The South Island – my destination. I had been planning the itinerary for weeks. I was packed days in advance. I spent the weekend preparing my car, and so, when my flatmate came home Sunday night completely drunk, it wasn’t a moment too soon for me to fly the coop. I left Monday morning with my first stop a few hours away in Hawkes Bay. I spent Monday wandering the streets of Napier. Napier is a delightful town on the bay which boasts art deco architecture. Destroyed by earthquake in 1931, the city rebounded when rebuilt in the angular style. There are few other cities where such a display of art deco can be encountered. One is New York City, but as can be assumed, Napier has a much quainter feel than the Big Apple.

My reason for passing through Hawkes Bay, however, was to attend an apple growers’ seminar the following day in Hastings. After visiting the HortResearch station in Hawkes Bay back in May, they expressed an interest in having me speak on my Master’s research at their winter extension forums for growers. I gladly accepted the invitation, as it is excellent experience for me. In fact, I spoke not at just one seminar but two. After the day in Hastings, I drove down to Wellington, put myself and my car on the Inter Islander Ferry, traversed a bumpy ride across Cook Strait, entered the town of Picton through the Marlborough Sounds, and drove west to Nelson where I gave my presentation again. I was really satisfied with how things went in both locations. The growers were responsive and even forgave my “funny” accent. The Nelson area was beautiful. The venue selected for the seminar was Seigfried Winery, and the snow-capped mountains, with the bare vines in the forefront, was picturesque. After the seminar, however, I didn’t linger in the area. Instead, I was on a northwest path to Marahua, on the cusp of Abel Tasman National Park – a “must-see” as designated by several co-workers.

***

I arrived in Marahua just after dusk. At only about 6:00pm, the isolated community was desolate, and there was an eerie loneliness lurking about. Likely, the community is alive and bustling at that hour during the summer months when the days are long and tourists flock to the national park, but on that cold day in July, Marahua seemed like a ghost town.

Supposedly, there was a backpackers’ lodge. I found it empty at the quiet campsite. I walked about trying to find someone to check in but found no one. Not long after, however, a noisy van pulled in, and three people started moving belongings into the lodge. They were two girls and a guy from France, who upon introduction seemed nice enough. They took a room with four beds, which meant that the large dormitory was my private residence for the night.

The next morning, I booked myself a seat on a water taxi, which took me to see some of the sites of Abel Tasman National Park. Abel Tasman was the Dutch explorer who discovered New Zealand – at this locale in fact – in 1642. Scared away by a hostile Maori tribe, Tasman never actually set foot on land, but he is still credited with the discovery. (Sometimes discovery is falsely attributed to British Captain James Cook, who traveled the perimeter and mapped the islands.) Abel Tasman National Park was created in 1942 as a means of preserving the natural coastline and the sites that the water taxi took me to see. Split Apple Rock is a large granite boulder sitting off the coast. The porous nature of the granite in the area, a crack which filled with water, and the freezing and thawing of an Ice Age caused the boulder to divide in two. The taxi also took us into various bays where the water was vivid blues and greens, and it took us to the Tonga Island seal colony. The species of seal present was once nearly hunted to extinction for its fur but is rebounding now. The pups were adorable and quite inquisitive, flapping their fins at us as we departed, like a farewell wave.

The water taxi dropped me off at the beach of Tonga Bay, and from this point I traversed back to Marahua. When I made my water taxi reservation, the woman told me that hiking back from Tonga would probably take a good eight hours, and they generally didn’t recommend the trip during the shorter winter days. But, when I told her I planned to run parts of it, she said I would be fine. The trek was probably about 26 km (maybe more), and what was supposed to take eight hours only took me about 4 hours and 45 minutes. The trail was a well-traveled one with good footing, so I was able to keep my gaze on the gorgeous coastline as I trotted along, golden beaches and vibrant waters in the foreground, the Marlborough Sounds in the back drop, and sea birds serenading all the way. It was the perfect day for a coastal hike/run. In the end, I was tired but exhilarated by this scenic national park.

***

Staying in hostels is like living a comedy of errors. Hostels are certainly not places for faint sleepers; in fact, they are not suitable for anyone wishing for a good night’s sleep. They tend to be popular among the teens and young twenty-somethings, but generally one can find all sorts in hostels. Without a doubt, hostels serve an important role for budget travelers; they are an inexpensive place to lay one’s head, or perhaps more appropriately, stash one’s stuff. All in all, a common idiom resounds in my head: “You get what you pay for.”

I arrived at the Paradiso Hostel in Nelson worn and wearied from my all day adventure in Abel Tasman. The Paradiso was recommended to me as the best in Nelson. Indeed, at first glance, it seemed like a decent place – an old refurbished Victorian home typical of Nelson, with ample indoor and outdoor space and a large, clean kitchen. I was added to a room with two other girls, and I was grateful that it was an option without an extra charge. (Don’t get me started on my soapbox about charging extra for an all-female room. Some hostels do, and I find this frustrating and unfair. For safety reasons, I think that a same-sex room should not incur a fee, and I will provide an example shortly.) I was told that a nightly vegetable soup was served free of charge and also breakfast in the morning. There was a spa out back, and given my sore muscles, I thought that would provide perfect therapy before soup, hot shower, and an early bedtime.

Well, the spa was only tepid, and given the air temperature was approaching freezing, I decided not to get wet. Luckily, the soup was good, and the shower was hot. Then, I settled into bed with my book until my eyes felt droopy. Feeling quite exhausted, I soon shut off the lights and lay down.

About 10 minutes later, one of the other girls entered and flicked on the lights, not realizing I was there, tucked away on the top bunk. (By the way, that is another thing I don’t like about hostels – bunk beds. I hate being on the top bunk – forced to be an acrobat climbing up and down a vertical ladder, and I hate being on the bottom bunk, subject to someone else being the acrobat usually in the wee hours of the morning after a few too many drinks. Having laundry surround you like a canopy curtain is also a drawback to the bottom bunk.) After realizing I was there, she politely turned on a smaller light next to her bed and started settling in. After some text messaging and coughing, she was out like a light, snoring. Of course, being the light sleeper that I am, that was enough to keep me from sleeping, despite my exhaustion.

Finally, I was able to relax and started to doze off, but this was eventually interrupted by the squeaky door, the light from the hall, and two whispering voices. “I just really like talking with you.” “You need to go. They’re trying to sleep.” “But can’t we keep talking?” “Go, you’re drunk.” At that, I sat up, and with a drowsy, raspy voice, this upper-twenty-something said, “Can you please leave?” Perhaps in his drunken stooper he thought my voice from the top bunk was a message from the heavens. Perhaps my impatience was apparent in my voice; I surely didn’t want to hear any more, considering where that conversation was heading. Whatever it was, the guy shot out of the room, and the girl quickly closed and locked the door. I apologized to the girl for interfering, but she thanked me for doing it.

Yet, the girl didn’t stay in the safe haven behind the locked door for long. She soon left, leaving her cell phone behind. (I think it is obvious where this is going.) Now, it is not my business why the girl left again when there was drunkard out there annoying her, but what was my business was the annoying cell phone ring that sounded not once, twice, three, not even four, but five times!!! By the fifth ring, realizing the girl was not returning to collect what is to many young people as vital as an organ and practically glued to either their hand or ear, and also realizing that the phone seemed to be sounding consistently at intervals, I fumbled my way down the ladder, picked up the glowing phone, drew the curtains, and threw the phone out the window! Ok, I didn’t really throw it out the window, but that would have been funny – well worth the lack of sleep! Instead, I turned off the alarm, not understanding why an alarm was set for such an hour. So, finally some piece and quiet? Well no because the noise of the alarm awoke and kept awake the other girl whose cough came back with a vengeance.

The morning was a similar story of coughing, alarms, and packing up. Oh how important plastic grocery bags are to the traveler, but oh how loud is their crunching! I suppose, however, that all the racket helped me to jump start my day. I spent the day discovering Nelson – walking through the gardens and along historic streets. I walked to the Anglican Cathedral, which people seem to either love or hate. It is a sort of neo-Gothic architecture, was the third built at this site, and was finished in 1965. Its dark cement walls and stark bell tower led me not to side with those who love it. Then, I went to the farmers’ market and craft fair, (Nelson is renowned for its art community), and walked through the commercial district. In the afternoon, I went running up the hills that overlook the city, which is where the geographic center of New Zealand is located and marked.

When I returned to the hostel, two young Dutch girls had moved into the room and had more luggage each for their 30 days in New Zealand than I have for my year abroad! But, they were nice, and basically quiet. And so ended the comedy of errors… at least in Nelson.

***

I set out from Nelson heading southwest. When I began, the weather was decent, but unfortunately, it did not last long. Soon, the clouds were upon me. Showers were followed by deluge. New Zealand is a very green country after all. I weaved my way over to the west coast and made a stop at Pancake Rocks in Paparoa National Park. Several people had recommended that I stop there, so torrential rain and wind did not deter me. A short walk takes one out to the massive limestone protruding from the ocean. What makes these rocks particularly remarkable, however, are their striations – crushed fossils fused – and their arrangement which causes the sea to dance and sing in its ebb and flow.

Back in the car, it was slow driving. I made my way down to Franz Josef Village, which receives 4000mm of rain annually – more than New York, Auckland, and Wellington combined. I passed the night there, and the next morning, I set out to see the Franz Josef Glacier, named for the Austrian emperor in the 1860’s when it was discovered by German explorer Julius von Haast. Retreated into a beautiful valley, the glacier was at its greatest mass in 1600. It cascades from the Southern Alps, and it is still a massive chunk of ice, despite its retreat. I hiked out to a lookout point, a ferocious wind at my back. I met a couple of French people – a lively woman and her son – and just as we snapped some pictures, the grey clouds which had been encroaching dumped a torrential rain. We took refuge in some bushes until it lightened a little, and then we made our way back. I learned that the woman runs marathons and will run the New York City marathon in November. They learned that I had spent time in Chile, and the woman, not comfortable speaking English, started speaking to me in Spanish, having formally been a Spanish teacher in France. When we got ready to depart, I wished her good luck on her race, and with the customary kiss to each cheek and a banana (yes, random, but I gladly took it), we were on our separate ways.

My next stop was to see the Fox Glacier. It was equally impressive though the valley not quite as beautiful. The valley trail was closed due to flooding, so I could only see it from a distance, but given the rain that still fell, I was happy enough just to get back in my car and press on. I saw a bit of the sun as I approached Haast, the next major town down the coast and the point of junction for me to turn inland. As I made my way inland toward the towering, snow-capped Alps, the rain bucketed once again, and unfortunately, my view of the mountains was impaired. Water was everywhere – snow up high, river down below, and waterfalls gushing through every crack and crevice of the surrounding cliffs. Once I reached the summit of Haast pass, however, the clouds parted, and the vegetation went from lush forest to scrubby brush. I had reached the region of Otago, and like any land in the rain shadow of a mountain range (i.e. Nevada behind the Sierra Nevadas, Argentinian Patagonia behind the Andes), Otago is one of the driest areas of New Zealand. Visibility improved, and I witnessed the beautiful Lake Harawea and surrounding scenery on my way to Queenstown.

***

I spent one full day in Queenstown, and though I found it picturesque, I didn’t quite understand all the hype that prefaces a visit. I suppose if one skies or partakes in any of the various adventure attractions – bungee jumping, jet boating, parasailing, etc. – then Queenstown would be the “happenin’ spot,” but I’ve never had an interest in skiing or any of the other “sports,” and frankly, they were far too expensive for this budget traveler. Plus, I figured if I ever do anything adventurous, being the clumsy person that I am, I best do it in my own country in case, Heaven forbid, something happens. So, I spent my day walking the streets of Queenstown, wandering in and out of shops, hiking up hills for the best view of the humbling mountains and frigid Lake Wakatipu, and then I went for a long run through the Queenstown gardens and neighboring trails.

My reason for traveling to Queenstown, nevertheless, was not Queenstown itself but instead for a tour to Milford Sound. So, despite my lack-luster impression of the southern city, the trip was not a bust. In fact, Milford Sound was spectacular – well-worth the 600km ride from Queenstown. Milford Sound is actually only about 60km from Queenstown if one could travel from point to point, but only a circuitous route is possible, so a full-day journey it was. We traveled through the once mining communities of Kingston and Athol, now farming communities resembling ghost towns. A stop in Te Anau, then more sheep country, and then we entered the 7750 square mile Fjordland National Park. Massive in area, its physical features are also massive. Though the highest peak in the park is only just over 7000 feet in elevation, it is not necessarily the height of the peaks that is striking; instead, it is how they rise near-vertically from flat valleys or sea level, carved this way by glaciers. That said, Milford Sound was improperly named in the past; it is not a sound but a fjord. A sound is a valley carved out by a river and then back-filled by the ocean; whereas, a fjord was carved by a glacier and then filled. But, the name stuck from the past, and “Milford Sound” it has remained.

The road through the park to Milford Sound – passing through the Eglinton and Hollyfield Valleys – is as remarkable as the sound, excuse me “fjord,” itself. Snow-packed mountains tower over the road, and avalanches are common. The Homer tunnel goes through the mountains, and having no structural supports, travelers see the jagged edges of the granite as they pass through.

And then, there is the amazing boat cruise through the fjord, witnessing the most photographed mountain in New Zealand – Mitre Peak. Hues of green indicate copper imbued in the rock, and slivers of gold can also been spied. Thankfully, mining is prohibited in the park. A fault line runs up the west coast of New Zealand, and it is compellingly evident from the water, as there is a crack in the rock which runs directly up the mountain. The mixture of fresh feeding into salt water makes for a black sea, and the all-too-common clouds give the park an eerie feel. It did not rain while I was there, but it rains approximately 200 days of the year in Fjordland – reaching nearly 8000mm annually. (And I thought it rained a lot at Franz Josef!) But, despite the dark rock, water, and sky, Milford Sound is bright with life. Much of it cannot be seen below the water surface, but we were lucky during our boat journey to see a rare, crested penguin and also fur seals. The numerous waterfalls also feel alive, roaring over the shear rock edges. And, despite a lack of soil, beech trees cling to life, insinuating their roots into rock cracks. All of this made my tour of Milford Sound a highlight of my south island journeys.

***

From Queenstown, I ventured to historic Arrowtown – a restored miners’ village. Much of the region of Otago was settled for the same reason people flocked westward to California – gold. Arrowtown has retained and restored its old buildings and houses. There is also a historic Chinese settlement commemorating the immigrants from China who played a vital role in the community’s development. From Arrowtown, I drove through Cromwell – the fruit growing region of Otago – and then to Wanaka. The town of Wanaka, sitting on the shores of Lake Wanaka, is another skiers’ paradise, but there is also some beautiful scenery for which I came to see. Again, I stayed in a hostel, and a fairly nice one it was, but unfortunately, the only space available was in a mixed dorm with a bunch of boys having horrible body odor. Not even the smell of my nasty running shoes could compete with their stench. So, I quickly soaked up the scenery of Wanaka, stayed just one night, and then continued north.

The road north through Lindis Pass was gorgeous. Stark hillsides of thirsty vegetation were contrasted to snow-capped peaks satiated with moisture. I soon arrived at Lake Pukaki where the view of the Southern Alps, including New Zealand’s highest mountain – Mount Cook at 12349 feet – was superb. This area of New Zealand with its year-long, snow-laden mountains and expansive lakes is a center for hydroelectricity production. And, beyond the picture-perfect scenery, sheep roam the countryside, making this also a center for merino wool production.

The end of the journey for the day was Christchurch – New Zealand’s third largest city and the largest city on the south island. Upon arriving, I had a bit of a scare with my car when it started idling really low. I suppose what worried me most was knowing that I had a lot more driving to do in the next few days but not wanting to shell out a lot of money to fix my car. Luckily, it turned out to be a quick, inexpensive fix. So, aside for good mechanics, Christchurch is renowned for its arts and cultural scene. While there, the city was hosting an international film festival, so I previewed a hilarious French comedy. I visited the Arts Center, where there were demonstrations and a craft fair. I ran through the botanical garden, visited the Anglican Cathedral, strolled along the Avon River, and took a scenic drive through the hills overlooking the city. Paragliders with vibrant parachutes were enjoying the exquisite day. I also visited the city’s art gallery – which has a nice collection of 19th and 20th century and contemporary New Zealand art. And I learned something too. It dealt with the mysterious though seemingly simple solid color paintings. Probably more people than not have gazed at such paintings and thought, “I could do that!” But, I never knew nor even stopped to consider that there could be a purpose to such simplicity, and yet there is. “Monochrome” is in fact a movement to “purge” art of any distractions, and on exhibit was a New Zealand artist who has taken monochrome to a different level. Julia Morrison of Christchurch looks at monochrome as a pixilation of art. She uses small monochromes to create images on a grander scale. With each new exhibit, she moves her small paintings to create a new, larger piece. It is art that metamorphoses.

But, I think the highlight of the gallery was this… In the contemporary showroom was an abstract sculpture. With no face and stone grey, it resembled a gaunt woman with a long, flowing robe – her arms extended with the robe flowing behind her. Or, perhaps it was an angel, wings expanded and chin angled so that its face gazed toward Heaven. But then, “It looks like a taradactyl.” Ah yes, kids say the darndest things, don’t they? I turned to see two kids staring at the sculpture, and I had to turn away so they wouldn’t see me laugh, not because I thought their imagination ridiculous. No in fact – Renaissance woman, heavenly creature, or flying dinosaur – I agree it could have been any of the above.

***

Driving north from Christchurch to Blenheim was quite gloomy. It rained the entire way. I stopped in Kaikoura – a town known for whale watching expeditions, but given the conditions, I didn’t stay long. I arrived in Blenheim just after dark and settled into a hostel. When I woke the next morning, it was August 7th, my birthday. Despite the continued rain, I went running. Rain on my birthday – I once thought that could never happen, then that it could only happen in Ithaca, but I suppose I never imagined celebrating my birthday in the middle winter! The next three days, I attended a conference with some colleagues, who arrived in town just in time to treat me to a birthday dinner.

I attended the New Zealand Plant Protection Society annual conference. It was a good conference covering a broad range of pests and plagues in a myriad of horticultural, cereal, and even timber crops. I met many interesting people and shared in some excellent food and wine. The last day of the conference included a tour of the Montana Brancott Winery just outside of Blenheim. It was a beautiful, modern estate, and their land holdings go beyond the Marlborough District to include land on the north island. Because of the cool climate, the typical grape varieties in Marlborough are Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, but most importantly, Sauvignon Blanc. In fact, New Zealand is world renowned, perhaps the world leader in quality Sauvignon Blanc. The environmental conditions result in superior production of this crisp, fruity variety.

When the conference was over, I made my way back up to Picton, and left the south island as I had arrived – via the Inter Islander Ferry. Coincidentally, one of the French girls that I met in Marahau was also on the ferry, so we caught up on each other’s travels. When we docked in Wellington, I got in my car, and trekked back to Te Puke. After three weeks of travel and several thousand kilometers added to my car, I was glad to be back, but I arrived back with a new appreciation for the diversity of New Zealand.

Pictures at my Shutterfly account.

Mother Nature's Architecture

The Waitomo Caves are the most visited tourist attraction on the North Island. ‘Waitomo’ in the Maori language means ‘water hole,’ and it was by gradual water erosion that these limestone caves came to be formed more than 24 million years ago. Earthquakes and volcanic eruptions sometimes disrupted the path of the water, and thus, the caves bend and curve, rise and fall. Stalactites hang – the result of water dripping from the ceiling – to form long formations of calcium carbonate. Stalagmites are the deposits that come up from the ground – the result of what drips from the stalactites. An imaginative mind will see figures in Mother Nature’s sculptures.

There are three caves in Waitomo that are open to visitors. The Waitomo Glowworm Cave was discovered by the Maori people long ago and open to the public in 1889. This cave tends to be the most popular of the three, as adults and children alike are enchanted by Arachnocampa luminosa – a species of glowworm unique to New Zealand. The mosquito-like adults live only a few days, and their sole purpose is reproducing, but the larva create what seems a dome of stars on the cave ceiling, as they emit light to attract food to the sticky strands hanging from their bodies.

The Aranui Cave was only just discovered in 1910 by a young Maori who was compensated, what was then, a satisfying 35 British pounds when he turned ownership over to the government. The Aranui Cave is perhaps the most spectacular of the three in terms of its stalactite and stalagmite formations. The most stunning stalactite hangs over 6 meters and has taken more than 400,000 years to form. Also, the colors of these formations dazzle the eye.

The Ruakuri Cave is the most recently opened cave due to land disputes between the government and the Maori people. It is the longest cave and boasts not only glowworms and rock formations but also underground rivers and waterfalls.

During my visit to Waitomo, I toured the Glowworm cave and the Aranui Cave. On my tour of the Glowworm Cave, the “ahhs” of children echoed as we walked through the caverns. We sang “Happy Birthday” in the ‘Cathedral’, where the acoustics are considered suburb and where choir concerts are held during the Christmas season. We walked our way along three levels of the cave and ended at the bottom where the Waitomo River runs through. The end of our tour was a gentle boat ride along the river to view the glowworms. Before we began, our guide told us that we had to stay quite on the boat because that would make the ride “magical.” I thought that a cunning way to keep the children quite the rest of the tour, but in fact, as we boarded the boat and commenced the journey, my neck cocked toward the ceiling and my eyes taking in the planetarium of glowworms, it did feel magical.

But, of the two caves I toured, I preferred the Aranui Cave. It was amazing to behold the ancient rock formations. While I was mesmerized by the ancient, Gothic cathedrals in Spain, the cave was an ancient architecture in a league of its own. I was truly in awe.

I made the trip to the Waitomo Caves in a day, and the trip was well worth the time in the car. On the way home, I made a stop at the Hamilton Gardens, which, given the season, were a bit anticlimactic after the caves. See pictures of the caves at my Shutterfly website.

Local Sites and Random Stories

1. Local Sites. It is probably a given from all of my blog entries that I have kept myself busy since I arrived in New Zealand. Almost every weekend, I have ventured about – from cities to natural wonders. It has only been of late that I remained in the Bay of Plenty for a weekend. Here is an account of some of the local sites.

As I have mentioned, I live in Te Puke – a small town about a half hour inland from the coast. Te Puke is a quaint town. There aren’t many exciting things to do here, and the locals will poke fun at it for this reason. But, should an outsider poke fun at Te Puke, these same people will come to its defense. The town was settled in 1881 when the ship Lady Jocelyn sailed into Tauranga harbor from London with 500 emigrants. (Te Puke is celebrated its 125th year this year.) There are probably some aspects of Te Puke that have not changed since that time, and I don’t think the storefronts have been renovated since the 1970’s. Nevertheless, in this region of Te Puke, the modern kiwifruit industry is in full-force; it is where I work; and it is where I rest my head.

Papamoa is the next town toward the coast from Te Puke. I have not spent much time in Papamoa, but there is a nice regional park named for it – Papamoa Hills. I have gone running at Papamoa Hills a couple of times. It’s a tough climb to the summit, but from there, the view is fantastic. Marcela and I went there one afternoon after work. Given the short days these winter months, we arrived at the top at dusk. The colors in the sky were fluorescent, and we lingered there to witness their change in splendor. Eventually, however, we decided it best to head back down. After all, if it was getting dark at the top, it would certainly be getting dark in the forest on the way down. Well, that was an understatement, because as we entered the forest, it was nearly pitch black. Armed only with Marcela’s cell phone and my camera, we use their faint window displays as our flashlights. At one point, we heard an animal scurry up the bark of a tree. I could barely see its silhouette, and not sure at the time whether skunks lived in New Zealand, we hurried on. When we finally got to the parking lot, we decided that what we had done probably wasn’t the most prudent thing to do and vowed we wouldn’t do it again or tell anyone about it. I have headed back to Papamoa Hills since that time, but during the day. Day or night, the view of the entire Bay of Plenty region is spectacular and worth the huffing and puffing on the way up.

Mount Maunganui is named for the giant mountain that erupts from the sea at the end of a peninsula where the town resides. “The Mount” – as the town is more familiarly known – is quite the beach resort in the summer, but even in the winter it hustles and bustles. Mount Maunganui is a nice place to recreate, and, as to be expected, I ran to the top. The view from there was also breathtaking.

Finally, Tauranga is the “big city.” With about 100,000 people, Tauranga is one of the largest cities in New Zealand, falling behind Auckland, Wellington, Christchurch, and Hamilton. Many people have fled Auckland to live in Tauranga, which boasts a more pleasant climate and proximity to The Mount. But, for being a big city, I find it amusing that Tauranga is also a bit old fashioned, with retail businesses only open from 8-5 on weekdays and 9-3 on Saturday. It does have some nice restaurants, however, and when there is something I need, it is only about a half hour drive from Te Puke.

See pictures of these localities on my Shutterfly website.

2. I previously mentioned my flatmates, but the situation has since changed. Marcela decided to move out on her own a few weeks back, which leaves me here only with Nathan. Nathan is a nice enough guy. We have our differences, and our conversations are generally focused on either sports or kiwifruit (his family has an orchard), but over all, things are fine here.

3. My American friend, Liz, and I decided we had to do something for the 4th of July. We may be displaced Americans, but we haven’t lost our patriotism. So, despite a chilly, winter night, we did what seemed to be the All-American thing to do on the 4th of July – we had a BBQ. A couple of Liz’s Kiwi flatmates joined our celebration, and instead of having sparklers, we had an astronomy lesson. It was a fun time, but I will admit, it felt a bit strange celebrating American independence in a country that still celebrates the Queen’s birthday.

4. Though it perhaps didn’t “feel” like the 4th of July, it has felt a little like Christmas. We have had a number of frosts this winter, and people are calling this the coldest winter they’ve experienced in years. Driving home from a field expedition near Auckland one evening, I commented that with the cold weather, I felt like I should be preparing for Christmas. My colleagues couldn’t quite relate. “What do you mean? It’s not BBQ weather!” Ironically, just a few minutes later, we drove by a house with Christmas lights illuminated, adorning the eves.

5. Despite frosty nights, daytime temperatures rise when the sun is not obscured, making for very pleasant days. I have taken advantage of the nice days the last couple of weekends to do some fun sporting activities. Ocean kayaking was a thrill, especially when the waves were choppy, but I had a great time. A group of us went over to Pilot Island (I think that is what it’s called) – across from the Mount – where the water was a little calmer. The view of the Mount from there was grand – its magnitude put in perspective from water level. It was a radiant day, so the sun glistened off of the water, and colorful sails guided myriad boats. It was a gorgeous and fun way to spend a day in the Bay of Plenty. Another fun sporting fete, however, took me away from the water and further inland to the redwoods of Rotorua. The redwood park is expansive and an incredible asset for the city. There are trails for foot traffic, horses, and mountain bikes. I took a borrowed bike out to the trails and enjoyed a mountain biking adventure followed by some running. Three hours plus of intense physical activity meant that I slept very well that night.

6. Mystery Creek Field Days. New Zealand hosts the largest farm show in the Southern Hemisphere. I liken it to the International Farm Show in Tulare, California. Perhaps it is not quite as big, but it follows the same agenda. Businesses set up booths, demonstrations abound, and there is even a tractor pull. My brothers would be proud of me – I went to the tractor pull and even took pictures so they could see how they are done here. The tractors aren’t quite as “modified” as some seen in the U.S., and the pulling itself is done differently than in the U.S., but it was still fun to watch. I also went to a lumberjack competition, stopped by the fence-building competition, pet some alpacas, and watched a quad bike demonstration. And, because of my affiliation with HortResearch, I got a free lunch from ZESPRI. (Well, I kind of snuck into that, but they never knew the difference. HA!) Pictures of the Field Days are on my Shutterfly page.

June Dreer Fellowship Report

Melts in Your Mouth: A Fruit that Will Not Disappoint

A consumer gazes across the rows of colorful produce on the supermarket shelves. The rainbow display is appealing to the eye and can make the taste buds water. The consumer selects a piece of fruit and scrutinizes its appearance. It seems flawless, and it is just beginning to soften. It must be perfect eating quality! Yet, upon bringing home that fruit and biting into its flesh, the consumer finds its taste only lack-luster. What a disappointment! If only there was a way of guaranteeing that the rainbow of color would translate into a pleasant eating experience. Well, now it seems that there is a way. Flavor need not be an evasive quality anymore.

Dry matter is the proportion of fruit dry weight – carbohydrates, fiber, organic acids, proteins, lipids, and minerals, to fresh weight – dry weight plus water – in produce. A fruit with high dry matter at harvest will have high soluble solids when ripe. All of this translates into taste. The kiwifruit industry in New Zealand has, in the last few years, put an emphasis on dry matter production – adding price premiums when dry matter is high and rejecting fruit which does not meet a minimum standard. The result is a high-quality product and a successful industry.

The Impetus
The kiwifruit industry in New Zealand is an export industry. In the year 2005, kiwifruit valued at $720 million (USD) was exported from New Zealand to more than 60 countries. Despite this incredible sum, New Zealand still competes with others – namely Italy, Chile, and China – for export markets, particularly those in Japan and Eastern Asia. It is estimated that 80% of New Zealand’s kiwifruit profit comes from 20% of the fruit exported to Japan. The Japanese have proven themselves avid kiwifruit consumers and perhaps even connoisseurs. They are willing to pay upwards of $10 (NZD) per tray of fruit; whereas, markets in the European Union generally pay $3 per tray – just above the break-even mark – and North American, Australian, Eastern European, and New Zealand markets generally pay below the break-even price per tray. Thus, with a Japanese market willing to pay above and beyond, it is important to keep those consumers satisfied. Their satisfaction depends on sweet, delicious fruit.

The Standard
Because the kiwifruit industry is controlled by one supplier in New Zealand - the ZESPRI company – criteria for dry matter and taste were relatively simple to implement. As harvest nears, fruit samples are collected from each block of an orchard and tested for dry matter accumulation. If this fruit meets the Minimum Taste Standard (MTS) for dry matter – a 14.5% average for green kiwifruit and a 15% average for gold kiwifruit – then the fruit can be harvested. Meeting the MTS is not the goal, however. The goal for growers is to achieve the highest dry matter possible with the lowest variability. Using the average dry matter and variability collected from each orchard, and the minimum standards, ZESPRI calculates a Taste ZESPRI Indicator (TZI), a value which is used to distribute price premiums and establish which fruit will be exported to the prized Japanese market. Thus, the strategy is to only send high-tasting fruit to Japan and to pay growers accordingly for their management toward top-quality fruit.

The Management
Because taste has been established as the key parameter for kiwifruit payment, it is important that research on vine management which improves fruit quality take a high priority. As mentioned, however, taste parameters have only been implemented in the last few years; thus, research toward this end is only in its infancy. It is understood that in order to achieve high dry matter, growers must strive to optimize carbohydrate production in the vine, as carbohydrates account for approximately 55% of dry matter. Carbohydrate production depends on such factors as light intensity, moisture availability, nutrition, and genetics. Nevertheless, carbohydrate production within a vine does not necessarily mean that those carbohydrates will be concentrated in the fruit. Therefore, research into the cultural practices which result in carbohydrates concentrating in the fruit are of particular importance.

The cultural practices that appear to influence kiwifruit dry matter are manifold. Choosing the proper rootstock may have an effect, as well as ample pollination. Irrigation must also be well-managed to prevent water-stress while not “watering down” the fruit. Excessive nitrogen fertilizer is a hindrance because it results in disproportionate vegetative growth, which draws dry matter to the leaves instead of the fruit. It also causes excessive crop loading. Environmental modifications, such as ground covers and overhead shelters, are under investigation, but a practice which appears to be particularly successful, at least in the short-term, is vine girdling.

Girdling involves removing the bark down to the cambium layer of either the trunk or individual canes. In the process, the phloem, or sugar-conducting tissue, is removed in a concentric strip preventing downward movement to the roots. When done properly, photosynthates produced in the canopy remain concentrated in the canopy and more are supplied to the fruit. By the time the fruit is harvested, the girdle has usually healed, allowing time before leaf-drop for more photosynthate production to be supplied to the roots for winter storage. Girdling trials, however, are only in their first couple of years, so there is little understanding whether vine roots will be damaged over the long-term by this practice. Some growers remain hesitant to employ the practice until more information is gleaned. Others are experimenting with the practice in small blocks.

Kiwifruit growers in New Zealand are an innovative breed of individuals, willing to experiment. Not only have they tested the cultural practices already mentioned, they are also experimenting with systems of canopy management, in hopes that it, too, will improve fruit quality. Canopy management involves those practices which influence the growth of the vines carrying fruit. It involves pruning and training the vines in such a manner that improves cane quality, determines growth habit, increases light penetration to the fruit, and reduces vegetative vigor. Various canopy management strategies are employed. Many growers are creative modifiers of traditional systems, while others are progressive inventors of entirely new systems. My work here at HortResearch has involved meeting these growers.


The Systems
These last two months, I have been speaking with growers and visiting their orchards to gain an understanding of the various methods of canopy management in Hort 16A – the gold kiwifruit. Because managing vines to promote high dry matter accumulation is a new area of research, and because Hort 16A is a relatively new crop, my project has been challenging but exciting. With the assistance of HortResearch Technology Transfer Manager, Shane Max, I developed a survey to ask growers how they would describe their canopy management schemes, their reasons for using them, the time required to manage their orchards under each system, and how their systems may or may not have influenced dry matter results this year. These are the systems that I have investigated:

Traditional cane replacement. This type of system, as its name implies, has been employed for some time, even before ZESPRI established taste standards. It may fall under two categories based on the type of cane used: primary or stubbed. Primary canes are those that initiated in the previous year and fruited lightly. Stubbed canes are those that fired as a result of a hard cut. Traditional cane replacement is still used by growers, but many are moving away from it in hopes of finding a system that increases fruit dry matter and reduces pruning costs.

Spur-fruiting. Spur-fruiting utilizes a permanent lattice of canes from year to year and crops on small spurs coming off of those canes. This style of canopy management has been adopted for various reasons. Some growers believe that it requires fewer hours to prune. Others believe its strongest asset is reducing vegetative vigor. In cases where vine spacing is large, a permanent structure means that canes will fill their allotted space every year, resulting in higher yields. Growers have also touted that with a permanent framework, stored carbohydrates permit rapid leaf development and canopy fill in the spring.

Low vigor. Utilizing spring initiated, non-vegetative canes is the intent of a low vigor system. Because Hort 16A is typically a vigorous vine, low vigor pruning involves a hard cut-back in the winter months to reduce vegetative vigor. The intensive winter pruning also means that summer pruning is reduced, and thus, pruning costs overall are moderated from traditional systems. Light penetration through the vines to the fruit is also good. Converted growers claim that the low vigor vines result in more carbohydrate storage in the fruit, generating high yields, good size, better than average dry matter, and earlier harvest.

Stringed cane replacement. The stringed cane replacement scheme requires the greatest capital investment, but growers assert that this system improves fruit quality and simplifies pruning so that even unskilled laborers may be employed. A stringed system most visibly differs from the other systems because, while fruiting canes are grown as usual on a wire trellis, replacement canes for the following year are grown up at an angle, trained along strings affixed to a central post or wire above the canopy. Pruning is simplified because in the winter, a pruner can essentially walk parallel to the vine leader and cut off every fruited cane. With this vegetation removed, the strings are cut, and the replacement vines for the following year are already selected and trained. They are laid and tied in the place of the previous vines. The following year, as these vines are cropping, replacement canes are selected from shots that come off at the leader, and these are trained up strings to be the following year’s cropping vines.

Alternate bearing. This system works in conjunction with the stringed replacement system. In this case, vines only crop or produce the following season’s replacement canes, not both. Thus, rows are cropped every other year, giving them a “break” in alternate years to store carbohydrates. This system maintains the same benefits as a stringed replacement system, but growers believe that the stored carbohydrates from the resting year revitalizes the vines and shortens the fruit maturity period the following year, resulting in an earlier harvest.

The Prospects
Having spoken with several growers employing each of these training systems, much information has been gleaned. Our hope is that this survey will prompt further, controlled research where these systems can be compared. The work that growers are doing to develop these systems is invaluable; nevertheless, what is needed is an experiment that can compare these systems, where all other cultural practices are constant. We hope that my work will show that there is a need for such research.

This project has also served to edify my own horticultural knowledge in a crop that was once unfamiliar to me. Speaking with growers required that I establish a foundation of knowledge for the crop and the industry before making my visits. Speaking with the growers gave me practical, first-hand insight.

I have also gained experience in the methods of Technology Transfer which occur here in New Zealand. This experience has been invaluable, given my career interests in Cooperative Extension. Exposure to the means by which knowledge is transferred in New Zealand will provide me with a broader base to draw upon when I enter my own career.

And perhaps the greatest prospect of this work are the implications it has toward producing high-quality, pleasant-tasting fruit. Someday, we will come to expect a vibrant taste from the vibrant rainbow we see on the supermarket shelves. Disappointment will melt away like a perfectly-flavored fruit melting in our mouth.

References

Baker, R. 2006. “Spring Trunk Girdling and Alternate Row Cropping – Testing the Boundaries.” Kiwifruit – New Zealand Kiwifruit Journal. July/August 2006. pp. 27-30.

Dyck, B. 2005. “Understanding Dry Matter.” Kiwifruit – New Zealand Kiwifruit Journal. September/October 2005. pp. 9-11.

Gardiner, C. 2005. “Low Vigour Pruning Hort 16A.” Kiwifruit – New Zealand Kiwifruit Journal. July/August 2005. pp. 22-24.

Gardiner, C. and S. Max. 2006. “Cropping Hort 16A on Spurs – A Success Story from Whangarei.” Kiwifruit – New Zealand Kiwifruit Journal. January/February 2006. pp. 13-15.

Kerr, J., E. Hewett, and A. Aitken. 2005. “HortResearch Fresh Facts – New Zealand Horticulture” (brochure). ISSN 1177-2190. ISBN 0-477-10014-7. pp 1-33.

Mowat, A. 2004. “Principles of Growing Fruit with Superior Dry Matter.” KiwiTech Bulletin #32. Sept. 2004.

“Taste ZESPRI Update.” 2006. Grower bulletin produced by the ZESPRI company. February 2006.

Wright, P. 2005. “The Challenges of Achieving Higher Dry Matter – A Grower’s Perspective.” Kiwifruit – New Zealand Kiwifruit Journal. November/December 2005. pp. 31-34.

Racing Fool

Challenging or insane? I will allow you, my readers, to answer that question. I had never done two races in one weekend. There’s a first time for everything.

We were up early on a Saturday, my two teammates and I, making the hour drive south to Whakatane. There, the first of my challenges awaited me. Monty’s Revenge was a multi-sport run, mountain bike, and kayaking race. (And no, I don’t know why it was named that.) My leg was obviously the 12K run.

It was a chilly morning there by the coast, but quite a crowd had drawn for the event. As the gun went off, the multitude of runners bolted through town, hurdling flower beds, taking no heed of traffic in the round-about, and filing down for a case of stairs. Our destination: the top of the ridge which separates Whakatane from the ocean. At the top of the stairs, we were directed to a narrow trail, climbing still. Many of the runners who had bulleted off of the starting line were now starting to tire, so I used my strength to pass them. Eventually, we made our way to the top of the ridge – rolling terrain and beautiful lookouts to the ocean, which no, I did not stop to enjoy. Around the ridge and down to a small, secluded, rocky beach, I thought I was nearing the end, but then, we were directed back up into the bush. When we exited again, we were on Ohope Beach. I was still feeling strong, so I took advantage of the heavy breathing I was hearing and passed some more people. Whales were frolicking in the waves beside us, Whale Island and White Island stood as monuments in the distance, and the sun reflected off the waves and wet sand making the winter day warm. When I finished, I handed off the bib to my teammate mountain biker who later handed it off to my friend Liz who kayaked. We finished ahead of half the pack in the end, and we enjoyed a beautiful day by the coast.

But, as if that wasn’t enough, Liz and I decided that one race just wouldn’t suffice that weekend. So, on a whim, we drove down to Rotorua on Sunday for the N-Duro 10K race through the redwoods. The redwoods course was probably more difficult than the one the day before with a near-vertical hill in the middle. It was also more of a tactical course with winding trails, stairs, and tree roots to heed. A bit sore from the day before, my muscles ached a bit, but I still managed to finish fourth among the women.

After the race, we ventured over to the Agrodome – a popular tourist attraction in Rotorua – where we saw a sheep-herding demonstration, and then we witnessed “Zorbing.” Leave it to Kiwis to invent another crazy sport; as if bungee-jumping wasn’t enough. A zorb is a ball, within a gigantic ball, filled with air and a bit of water to make things interesting. One to three people get inside the inner ball and then are pushed down a hill, bouncing around inside all the way down. Liz’s nephew had prodded her with questions as to why she had not yet been zorbing, but after witnessing it, we couldn’t understand the hype or justify the price.

And when the day was done, we soaked our sore muscles in natural hot pools so that the next morning, we wouldn’t be walking stiff-legged at work, divulging our insanely challenging weekend.

See pictures at my Shutterfly website.