A face full of mud and a mouth full of water

The day began with our most elaborate breakfast of the trip: two massive pieces of French toast topped with icebergs of fruit in an ocean of maple syrup and big clouds of whipped cream coupled with two glowing cinnamon rolls that almost seemed too perfect to eat... almost.

From the sight of the spread on the table, I knew that we were in for a long day. After our appetites were quenched we all piled into the van and drove to Planet Bike to meet our guides. Dave, Dan, Mel, and Zara would be showing us the trails of Rotorua's Redwood Forest.

Just before we set off, all of the guides joked about my "got bike" shirt and I suddenly felt like I had everything to prove, no longer able to back away from any steep tracks. Then we set off and before we made it to the course, I could feel the slow burn starting in my legs. Thankfully, it was all easy going and small hills for the majority of the trail... until we emerged from the forest onto the mountain biking track.

In front of us was a bare hill littered with sharp turns in front of steep cliffs and tall jumps in front of deeper drop-offs, "we're going down THAT?" I thought to myself. Fortunately not - it was one of the crazy downhill trails the locals like to ride. All doubts were soon put aside as the slow grind to the peak transpired. Finally I reached the top, energy flagging, as we faced the start of the trail down. My bike went down the mountain - gathering speed. In my imagination, like a speeding bullet, I rampaged down the track around the tight corners and over the jumps. Fear turned into pure adrenaline and by the time I reached the bottom, I was ready for round two!

As I relaxed on the ride back to base, my mind began to wander. I thought about how I've never experienced anything like that before - and I certainly didn't want to lose that ecstatic feeling I got from gliding over the obstacles - and WHAM! I suddenly flipped over my handle bars and straight into a puddle as deep as my tire almost gulping down fistfuls of mud. I somehow caught myself at the last second an inch from the puddle, so close my sigh of relief made ripples that bounced and danced around almost to invite me in.

After some time (and some food!), we found out we had another adventure planned for that day: a white water rafting trip down one of Andy's favorite rivers, the Kaituna. At Rotorua Rafting, another group of guides were there to greet us with smiling faces. A quick change into some very snug wetsuits, and we were off to the river.

We flung the giant raft to the edge of the river and watched as it precariously balanced there nearly taking off without us aboard. After a safety check and tutorial, we were in the raft and swept away by the strong currents.

One drop, two drops... "That wasn't so bad" the thought tumbled through my head and almost out my lips before I saw it - Tutea falls, the largest commercially rafted waterfall in the world at seven meters - and I had a front row seat. The raft slowly crept up to the waterfall and in an instant was catapulted over. We plunged into the icy water at the bottom, nearly flipping in the process.

As the next raft tumbled over, we counted seven heads, someone was missing. After a long pause of uncertainty, a head popped up. It was Christian grabbing for the safety rope. He caught it and was hoisted back into the raft.

With everyone accounted, for we moved on down the river and came to another set of waterfalls. The guides told us about three, but kept these last ones a secret. As soon as we went over them, we were turned around and steered right back into them for a raft surfing experience. The boat filled with water. After a few laughs and a few more showers, we yanked the raft out and carried it up the hill to the vans.

After this long day, I was ready for a nap.