tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86743233895515598372024-03-05T01:08:45.963-05:002 Wheel TravelsMatt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-85736506979884915282010-06-23T09:57:00.002-04:002010-06-23T09:58:44.929-04:00And Back Again (NZ part 26)(NZ part one <a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html">here</a>)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd157iYy-xKAWoxruHkEdxXP1fNjrhMcX8SOB-7Eaff3JcSJYqdYC1FjsPwPnGAdyL6IxHI18rmMNVgN6UdfSDbz5XBCGA7EPqAm3zPECScP4qR2SCKyL3fSKlEBrskWOC_K9QoG-XIDm3/s1600/nz_bike024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd157iYy-xKAWoxruHkEdxXP1fNjrhMcX8SOB-7Eaff3JcSJYqdYC1FjsPwPnGAdyL6IxHI18rmMNVgN6UdfSDbz5XBCGA7EPqAm3zPECScP4qR2SCKyL3fSKlEBrskWOC_K9QoG-XIDm3/s320/nz_bike024.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We wake up on the banks of the Rakaia River with only 3 days left of our trip around the southern island of New Zealand. It seems hard to believe that we have been living off of our bikes for nearly three months. We break camp and study the maps again for a good place to spend some of this time without riding directly back into Christchurch. We are certain we don't want to spend several days at the end of such an amazing trip killing time in a city, or inconveniencing our hosts that have agree to shuttle us to the airport. We quickly settle on a quick detour to the Banks Peninsula, an interesting geological feature the result of two adjacent extinct volcanoes. The collapsed cones, each with just a narrow opening to the ocean, provided the safe ports that helped establish Christchurch as the major hub for the south island. Of course, this route will mean more climbing, but we usually enjoy the resulting downhill, so this doesn't dissuade us.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We take small side streets through the outlying towns around Christchurch rather than ride along Route 1, and eventually intersect with Route 75, the main southern route from Christchurch out to the peninsula. We ride along farm fields, sheep pastures, and rugged drainages before reaching the main turn to the actual climb onto the flanks of the volcanoes. Dan has an urge to try an alternate route, one that appears to cross a small spit near Forsyth Lake, at Birdlings Flat. If he can cross, he will be onto the volcanoes on a small Bossu Road, which climbs abruptly to the ridge line. My knee has a nagging dull ache, so I opt to stay on the more gradual paved road up to the ridge, and we settle on a campsite ahead of time where we plan to meet later that day. After 3 months of always riding in tandem, it is very odd feeling to split off in separate directions, but we are probably due for some time on our own. I plod along at a very relaxed pace for the climb, stopping at a small tourist shop to pick up gifts of lambswool caps and socks for family. The climb to the ridge is slow, but not extremely difficult, and I opt for Summit Road, which traces the spine of the ridge line for the ride toward our agreed upon meeting place in Akaroa. The ridge route provides repeated glimpses down to settlements along the outer coast, and temps me to drop down for some exploring. Eventually I drop down into the inner harbor of Akaroa on a blazing paved road, losing a piece of clothing strapped to my trailer to air dry in the process. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8-ML53x9bz-1nGkAqui2YsoOAGVjQc68Xp5k2QbbqDTJ2VGNCr2IykK7TQNqfj8gtaSE9p9JdlMWpdx2UlJJlPaWq0LQ9QTcL_EjzdzcBT_WaxTd6EEmAZL2PXKrbvfZSornF9b34o2Jy/s1600/nz_banks_penn_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8-ML53x9bz-1nGkAqui2YsoOAGVjQc68Xp5k2QbbqDTJ2VGNCr2IykK7TQNqfj8gtaSE9p9JdlMWpdx2UlJJlPaWq0LQ9QTcL_EjzdzcBT_WaxTd6EEmAZL2PXKrbvfZSornF9b34o2Jy/s320/nz_banks_penn_001.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I make it to the campground outside of Akaroa in the early afternoon, and with not sign of Dan yet, I reserve a site and set up camp. By evening I am just slightly concerned, but Dan pulls in completely stoked with his ride in time for some dinner, and all is well.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">We ride back up to the Summit Road in the morning, a long long slog up, but very rewarding once we hit the ridge. There are climbs once on the ridge line, but nothing in comparison to the haul out of the crater. Before long we are leaving the eastern volcano and headed for the bays and harbors closer to Christchurch. We wind past Pigeon Bay and Port Levy, and down off the flanks on bullet of a road toward Purua. The corners are so tight and the grade so great that we are faster than the cars, and have to pull around and pass one in excitement. Then we are at Lyttelton Harbour and feel the imminent return to the city. We stop for an ice cream at Govenors Bay, and are invited to stay with a couple who run a bed and breakfast there. We camp in their back yard and they refuse to let us pay for the great hospitality the show us. Our final ride in New Zealand is an easy, quick shot in to Christchurch, and we take our time to make it there in the early afternoon. A celebratory pint in a local pub, and then we are back where our adventure began.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">It seemed to end as abruptly as my story. Certainly some of the greatest times that I can remember, and always in the back of my mind as a trip that will never be repeated, but should definitely be reprised. Thanks so much to all of you who supported this idea, helped make it a reality, and of course shared in the story. Thanks, as well, to my riding partner Dan Cantrell - that was some adventure.</div><br />
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</div>Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-47338748503246035332010-06-23T08:21:00.002-04:002010-06-23T10:36:53.764-04:00Canterbury (NZ part 25)(NZ part one <a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html">here</a>)<br />
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Leaving the Mt. Cook camp is hard, but we have gotten so accustomed to breaking everything down and heading onward that we fall into the routine. We retrace our ride from the previous day, heading south along Lake Pukaki, then turning east when we reach the southern end of the Lake. Again, we ride mostly along the contours, so the pedaling is easy. It is another brilliant morning, and we are greeted with huge panoramic views of the snow-covered Southern Alps. We are now riding on the Canterbury Plains, and the climate feels distinct from the more humid and cool points we've hit along the southern coast. By mid-day, we will be quite hot, and water consumption is once again on our minds.<br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">Since we are returning to areas that have higher population density and more tourist traffic, we find ourselves on larger roads again. One of our main objectives of route planning at this point is sticking to the smallest roads we can find on the maps in order to avoid traffic. We zigzag onto a canal service road between Lake Pukaki and Lake Tekapo, make a brief stop at the southern end of Tekapo, then ride on northeast, along Route 8 and then 79. We don't feel in a rush, but we are coming to the end of our trip, and we need to make sure we are within easy riding distance of Christchurch the day before our flight. The riding is also much easier here in the plains, so we cover many more miles than on some previous days.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We ride through the larger towns of Fairlie, Geraldine, Mayfield, and Ashburton Forks. Looking ahead we see two main options for crossing the Rakaia River, one closer to the mouth of the river on the eponymous town of Rakaia, the other farther upstream, near the town of Mount Hut. We set our sites on Mount Hut, but throughout the afternoon the winds dropping down off the Alps are hitting us at about 45 degrees off head on. When we reach an intersection to head to Mount Hut, we realize we will be riding almost directly into the winds, and at the last minute opt to bear east, for the lower bridge. The turn converts the slight headwind into a perfect tailwind, and we sail along easily on the straight, quiet country road. We cross the bridge in Rakaia in the early evening, and easily spot great camping spots all along the large boulder channel of the river.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-61087635984215952282010-06-22T15:17:00.003-04:002010-06-23T10:36:44.917-04:00To Mt. Cook (NZ part 24)(NZ part one <a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html">here</a>)<br />
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Back on the main roads, we make quick miles on the way to Mt. Cook. Riding along the Waitaki River, with the Southern Alps to our left and ahead of us, it is hard to pay attention to the road.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We pass Lake Waitaki, then Lake Aviemore, and through Otematata. Just east of Omarama, we head north across a wide, flat valley. The miles pass and we suck down water to keep hydrated on the hot and shadeless bitumen. We cross the Ohau River and stop at Twizel to resupply. Campers are the dominant vehicle here, and I again feel a little disappointed with being out of the backcountry. While I certainly have enjoyed the cover of a camper van, there is something about hordes of them that just feels so anathema to appreciation of the backcountry that I can't reconcile. But we are running low on supplies, and this is the place to stop. We get it done and head farther north.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For the most part, our route is quite flat - no big elevation changes, only rolling hills here and there. We come along side Lake Pukaki and my spirits lift. The road follows the contour of the Lake and occasionally pops up onto small plateaus with grand views of the Lake, and the Gammack and Liebig ranges. It is not until we have almost left the Lake that we catch a view of Mt. Cook.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0xq2IivmokSmdksEKhKS6_aMnrykF_Wk_-Yl8W55riyNhql6i7K-ycXed2c0FqFhSj-KqTeuQVg1aWyxBr8AuLW9FWrJ2Pdi4PRWL0MSNr31jhYJnc63u_6bqkqlnmEHKrfUNyUyiETTs/s1600/nz_cook_002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0xq2IivmokSmdksEKhKS6_aMnrykF_Wk_-Yl8W55riyNhql6i7K-ycXed2c0FqFhSj-KqTeuQVg1aWyxBr8AuLW9FWrJ2Pdi4PRWL0MSNr31jhYJnc63u_6bqkqlnmEHKrfUNyUyiETTs/s320/nz_cook_002.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We ride all the way to Mt. Cook village, with the National Park visitor center and the Hermitage lodge. In true dirt bag style, we will not be staying here, but will find a campsite down the road a bit. We spend some time wandering the visitor center, looking at maps and reading displays before hoping back on the bikes for a gentle coast down to a suitable camp site. And we found a good one. We set up on the outwash plain of the great glaciers of the Southern Alps - the Hooker, Tasman, and Murchison glaciers. We backed up to the Ben Ohau Range to our southwest and Lake Pukaki to our southeast. Mt. Sealy and the Sierra, Navigator, and Balfour ranges formed a shoulder wrapping around to our west. And in our face Mt. Haas, Tasman, and the great Mt. Cook, with the rugged Burnett Mountains embracing us from the east.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3qhBxA2e419TlhlmfNP5bQQiXQFP12sVhKb4VIRVJgM_v_c-_wDnbw2CjfrsUN-3cvlouRrZTz30-cLu-uav4jo6sWZNujdwwfrenBEvhgCgnnHZNEH3epOaKB1Bba7EbsMuKNOYx2y8_/s1600/nz_cook_005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3qhBxA2e419TlhlmfNP5bQQiXQFP12sVhKb4VIRVJgM_v_c-_wDnbw2CjfrsUN-3cvlouRrZTz30-cLu-uav4jo6sWZNujdwwfrenBEvhgCgnnHZNEH3epOaKB1Bba7EbsMuKNOYx2y8_/s320/nz_cook_005.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">We were rewarded with a stunning evening at one of the most inspiring sites I have found myself in. The simple luxury of a warm meal and good company seemed heightened by the surroundings in some way.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCnbwEF9jrNYY5mwkbkupoYPSeoyhLTUY38nbscxEjJu7zUB97EMEUFvO66w7xJ7SyUUuAqUPeQ_ukhyphenhyphen2QExSwFmMhtul3bTr9HWydHxhXaHjG8cf_dxmpKVFZvWeQZ3p-2eEyQbcM2PD9/s1600/nz_cook_003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCnbwEF9jrNYY5mwkbkupoYPSeoyhLTUY38nbscxEjJu7zUB97EMEUFvO66w7xJ7SyUUuAqUPeQ_ukhyphenhyphen2QExSwFmMhtul3bTr9HWydHxhXaHjG8cf_dxmpKVFZvWeQZ3p-2eEyQbcM2PD9/s320/nz_cook_003.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The morning starts out chilly, but who can complain when you wake up here?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRaCiXVwz7HwPslFewLyHHPb5N9iGXyM-ClSLiijFENBYv99uOIB7fRwHgxv3WWYQIp1ydyogqXu1KUVazgVbiVGBUuFHMlOkmwzHh3c9o7sMGTOLiDv49lBWBv96Qp1iLXy-znirFtZdD/s1600/nz_cook_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRaCiXVwz7HwPslFewLyHHPb5N9iGXyM-ClSLiijFENBYv99uOIB7fRwHgxv3WWYQIp1ydyogqXu1KUVazgVbiVGBUuFHMlOkmwzHh3c9o7sMGTOLiDv49lBWBv96Qp1iLXy-znirFtZdD/s320/nz_cook_001.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">(Camping near Mt. Cook - Photo Dan Cantrell)</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-77364602689973370842010-06-22T14:31:00.002-04:002010-06-23T10:36:36.285-04:00Sheep Tracks (NZ part 23)(NZ part one <a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html">here</a>)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi24Gi-QXGPT8YfgzdYwwFPiv3y8GJvD2LYL5j9mmrW_BM6UFw-ONMWDYufEKIG0a95y-PxNM7fo5CZKjXlSatEC3e2XNzW72vHTQrJPhH3fpFVIOVpQUTq6f9AvMYSYrKYBmQ-FlwAFuYi/s1600/nz_bike021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi24Gi-QXGPT8YfgzdYwwFPiv3y8GJvD2LYL5j9mmrW_BM6UFw-ONMWDYufEKIG0a95y-PxNM7fo5CZKjXlSatEC3e2XNzW72vHTQrJPhH3fpFVIOVpQUTq6f9AvMYSYrKYBmQ-FlwAFuYi/s320/nz_bike021.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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We ride northeast out of Naseby, after having scoped some possible off-track routes toward Mt. Cook. We opt for riding maintained road toward Dansey's Pass. Before long we pass the scenic reserve of Kyeburn Diggings. We ride along in the Kye Burn River valley, before breaking off and beginning the long climb. It is a long, moderate grade climb, but difficult with the weight of the trailers and a loose gravel surface. We reach a stopping point shy of the actual pass, and head off due north on what the map shows as a vehicle track, but there is very little sign of much traffic. Our plan is to drop down into the Otekaieke drainage, which will eventually dump into the Waitaki River, so even if the track completely disappears, we should be able to make our way to Route 83. We zigzag descend through sheep pastures and tussocks until we reach a barbed wire fence with no visible gate.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4cXAultzKMbNVp6TK2jH5OPXFJZML5a6oOBgtidnVomRqzqykiBerqiv_qGbvp31iACwKY0QrOyRwEc3m0na2RTnnoKj64fE2tr0DDIuascOlZpep3LTHoLRdDZ3yeO9TCFY3ZR69DnLR/s1600/nz_otekaieki_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4cXAultzKMbNVp6TK2jH5OPXFJZML5a6oOBgtidnVomRqzqykiBerqiv_qGbvp31iACwKY0QrOyRwEc3m0na2RTnnoKj64fE2tr0DDIuascOlZpep3LTHoLRdDZ3yeO9TCFY3ZR69DnLR/s320/nz_otekaieki_001.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Since we have already descended many hundreds of feet and we can see vehicle tracks on the opposite side of the fence, we decide to lift the bikes and trailers over and continue. The riding is a bit slow as the trailers bounce and jostle over the uneven ground, but the scenery is well worth it, and we once again have the feeling that we are surrounded by the unknown. We aren't far from civilization, but just getting off the roads makes all the difference. We drop farther into the Otekaieke valley and occasionally cross over the river. Signs of sheep are everywhere. At times we work to avoid riding through droppings, at other times we give up and just ride. There will be some bike cleaning necessary when we reach camp.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpXxsgeYfL3Xouv7y0A3VjVp4zXVerlXS0dzc-R-X8-5f9C-mPKLaKlh_cKjUMImOEwyzrWmTQnxqRbEBzEnSxFwvXjLa3HNJkkzka6B6yB6-2OrvCm4GQ3KsvwF7Y2XgHfX7G-kXjTe-E/s1600/nz_otekaieki_002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpXxsgeYfL3Xouv7y0A3VjVp4zXVerlXS0dzc-R-X8-5f9C-mPKLaKlh_cKjUMImOEwyzrWmTQnxqRbEBzEnSxFwvXjLa3HNJkkzka6B6yB6-2OrvCm4GQ3KsvwF7Y2XgHfX7G-kXjTe-E/s320/nz_otekaieki_002.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We ride close to 10k down the valley before the track turns into a solid farm road, and quickly come up on a fairly large metal gate, just being closed by whom I presume to be the owner. He is less than happy when he sees us, but as we talk to him he seems to cool off a bit and even becomes a bit friendly as we show him our maps and tell him about our riding adventures. He admonishes us a bit for taking the "vehicular track" designation on our New Zealand Automobile Association maps to suggest a potential route, but overall wishes us well on our journey. Before long we are on Route 83 and searching the banks of the Waitaki River for a suitable camp spot. Though not a big milage day (maybe 70km), we settle in quite happy.</div>Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-57798019622656729412010-05-28T12:52:00.005-04:002010-06-23T10:36:25.625-04:00Naseby (NZ part 22)(NZ part one <a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html">here</a>)<br />
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Eager to get to the even more rural parts of the South Island, Dan and I ride west on Route 87, up the Taieri River drainage, toward the town of Middlemarch, where we will pick up the Otago Rail Trail. The trail follows some of the old line of the Otago Central Branch Railway, which ran from the Otago goldfields to the ports of Dunedin. One section of the rail line is still in use, through the Taieri River Gorge, so unfortunately, we are forced to ride on the roads for this section. Apparently tourist trips on this section are a popular way to see the Gorge.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJfZQceW9gvuysUU_aDZGpUll0qKoB4gAODfLdeVNjumw2tQLEYZEGYmWfDUZdWOl94IeZq5DJwQ0XiYj4r91MFKGesZVEJeH-_9bESVqThLxUvnPM7yT_y3-A41JYMUHaU9oi7II12pO5/s1600/nz_bike020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJfZQceW9gvuysUU_aDZGpUll0qKoB4gAODfLdeVNjumw2tQLEYZEGYmWfDUZdWOl94IeZq5DJwQ0XiYj4r91MFKGesZVEJeH-_9bESVqThLxUvnPM7yT_y3-A41JYMUHaU9oi7II12pO5/s320/nz_bike020.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Once up river of the main Gorge, the Taieri valley is less rugged, and the trail actually provides pretty easy riding (trains don't tend to make quick turns or handle grade changes well I guess.) It allows us to relax and look around more, and I enjoy scanning the Rock and Pillar Range to our west, and the Taieri Ridge to our east. We ride through agricultural land for hours, and cross tributaries with names like Sheepwash and Six Mile Creek. Slowly the hills creep back in on us as we approach the upper gorge, which is really quite tame. The river provides a strip of green, but for the most part the valley is dry and brown. After much low angle climbing, we reach an interesting cut through the hills on the west side of the river, the Hyde Tunnel, which signals the end of the long climb. Before long, the landscape has opened up again, and we are riding between sheep pastures towards Ranfurly, where we will leave the rail bed.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPRXBF28pEOXMhKTZsQsK3M5wdDHuEb1RpGCa-vQt8-a225OyoISToNzN6pM2Fmae2MuwXgJtdA0nphgcIIn7MmU5iw4id3FnWoDYD5AfSFPBV_RPtoPC_kqnR360lIozIeqfNSNjBYNKO/s1600/nz_railtrail_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPRXBF28pEOXMhKTZsQsK3M5wdDHuEb1RpGCa-vQt8-a225OyoISToNzN6pM2Fmae2MuwXgJtdA0nphgcIIn7MmU5iw4id3FnWoDYD5AfSFPBV_RPtoPC_kqnR360lIozIeqfNSNjBYNKO/s320/nz_railtrail_001.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>We stock up on camping supplies in Ranfurly, then head on to Naseby, where we have heard there is some good single track riding. Our plan is to camp for a couple of days, and do some riding without the trailers in the State Forest. In Naseby, we find a quiet campground at the State Forest, set up tents, and do some laundry(!) Fortunately there is a screened in enclosure for cooking and eating, as the bugs are a bit thick.<br />
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The next couple of days provides for some fun riding on the managed forest roads, which seem to be firebreaks, and also into and around a basin with interesting geology. The soil has an organish tint, and seems to be river deposits around the basin - lots of rounded stones in a matrix of finer sediments. There are many cuts eroded through the ridge of the basin, some of which are challenging downhill lines, others just a little too tight to drop into.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit8jHCZIWQ3P0uxz0CEyct-2EnkWzfOBIefWx8RKagqE0bOiWD43CZEOC_TxwZq6uVeWu_zBJXTGilIHZQ5fl5WKnEiSJGMAwqKrDxjWFgQGiZB63Ynkkoosp_Y2H2hcQh97ienvS-0KHi/s1600/nz_naseby_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit8jHCZIWQ3P0uxz0CEyct-2EnkWzfOBIefWx8RKagqE0bOiWD43CZEOC_TxwZq6uVeWu_zBJXTGilIHZQ5fl5WKnEiSJGMAwqKrDxjWFgQGiZB63Ynkkoosp_Y2H2hcQh97ienvS-0KHi/s320/nz_naseby_001.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">While riding without trailers is great, I've actually gotten a bit used to the feel of traveling with them, and riding around without going anywhere loses it's appeal for me quickly. We study the maps in search for an off the beaten path route north, on to Mt. Cook as our next major destination.</div>Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-21964667948070782882010-05-06T11:57:00.003-04:002010-06-23T10:36:12.936-04:00Dunedin (NZ part 21)(NZ part one <a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html">here</a>)<br />
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We wake to more unsettled weather as the storm from the night before is just moving out. It is gray and blustery, the way I image many days begin on the coast. Living in a landlocked state, the weather patterns here are new to me and it is harder to guess what riding gear will be most comfortable. Whatever is selected to begin the ride will likely be exchanged sooner or later. We are at the edge of the Catlins now, and quickly ride back into the Route 1 corridor and the town of Balclutha.<br />
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</div>While Route 1 is definitely not the worst place to ride - the views are often quite nice and the surface is good - but it is the main thoroughfare along the the east coast, and so the traffic can seem a bit heavy at times, and the vehicles move along a quite a good clip, especially if you are used to the pace of the scenic country roads of the South Island. Since Dunedin, and the company of our friends, is our destination, we opt for the quick way to eat up the miles and push up the highway. The weather steadily improves through the day, and we are soon riding in brilliant sun and with enthusiasm for the down time that is the reward for this big push. The scenery now is a bit less rural, but still green and fertile. Farm fields stretch across acres and acres (or maybe that should be hectares in NZ) and the crumpled foothills of Southern Alps are in view again. With the wide open riding, we spread out a little farther, riding in silence on our own for long stretches.<br />
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By the end of the day we are pulling close to Dunedin. We race to beat the setting of the sun, and ride into the small city as lights are being turned on. We find our way to our friend's apartment and are welcomed in by the beautiful women of the house. After so many days on the road, we must look quite haggard, but it lifts our spirits greatly to be in the company of the fairer sex. Over the next several days we take in all types of luxuries we have been without for most of our trip - hot showers at any time, numerous trips to the creperie around the corner for banana/chocolate/fresh whipped cream crepes, and the wonderful company of our hostesses.<br />
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On one evening we find ourselves at the local stadium for an exciting All Blacks rugby game. The lack of beer in our diets over the past several months does not prepare us well for the event, as each spectator is allowed to carry in only one six pack each! Our training proves insufficient another evening when we celebrate St. Patrick's day with the girls at the local Irish pub. Throughout our stay we are treated to the singing of our friend <a href="http://www.laurathomasband.com/">Laura Thomas</a>, one amazingly talented individual. Check out her music - she kicks so much ass it's almost ridiculous!<br />
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Nearing the end of our stay in Dunedin, the girls take us on a road trip (in a car!) out onto the Otago Peninsula, which is extremely rich with wildlife. We park the car and walk down the sand path to Sandfly Bay. The energy of the wind and the surf is overwhelming and invigorating.<br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">The beach is practically empty, and we explore the dunes, wandering without much purpose. Laura and Dan spot a yellow-eyed penguin, one of the rare species that can be found around the peninsula. Many efforts have been made to protect their habitat, and Sandfly Bay is known to have a small breeding area. On the beach, fur seals roll in the sand. We get nervous as Laura moves in for a close up photo, but everything works out fine as they barely lift their heads to see what is going on.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6xI2Cv-K8J2GM0G8YcYUjcnlN3cpC4V5lefjrZLNKeROSitiGsesd_MvTdh-6_OkGmN23L-nzD-aKnGlyGO08qicaQf3DLyAMUfRMKq6rQfmqCB1DhEJ8L9XEA8NDe-gPNCG54l0dChhm/s1600/nz_sandflybay_003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6xI2Cv-K8J2GM0G8YcYUjcnlN3cpC4V5lefjrZLNKeROSitiGsesd_MvTdh-6_OkGmN23L-nzD-aKnGlyGO08qicaQf3DLyAMUfRMKq6rQfmqCB1DhEJ8L9XEA8NDe-gPNCG54l0dChhm/s320/nz_sandflybay_003.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;"></div>We spent a handful of days in Dunedin total. It was hard to leave the luxury of a real apartment and the company of Laura and her friends. But reality eventually settled in and we realized we needed to identify our next destination and continue our trip around the South Island.<br />
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Back toward the Alps! We ride south out of Dunedin, retracing our route back to the town of Mosgiel, where we break west headed for the mountains, with a few key stops along the way.Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-45027580515446336692010-03-17T13:57:00.004-04:002010-06-23T10:36:02.433-04:00Catlins (NZ part 20)(NZ part one <a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html">here</a>)<br />
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The countryside to the east of Invercargil, one of the larger cities in the south, provides easy riding. We've gotten a good start this morning, despite a long day yesterday, and we keep a gentle pace as we zig zag on the country roads leading out of town and toward the coast. Having ridden a route through less populated areas recently, we are just a little overwhelmed by all the road options available again. We stop to look at our maps more often, and find that we now need to have a bit more specific a destination in mind in order to make route choices.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfpm70QzmHXZ2VQL1S8uYvpqgwAk99bwpBldMmunVGSle8g-Z-ZxvErodrLhK_zotpJ957W2Q9MfWKTCrU7lWh3sINML_kD0xyOnX3YhVPejmvOJAG1cNE9PKsEUf0fvdghXmfGtCNm_Ft/s1600-h/nz_bike018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfpm70QzmHXZ2VQL1S8uYvpqgwAk99bwpBldMmunVGSle8g-Z-ZxvErodrLhK_zotpJ957W2Q9MfWKTCrU7lWh3sINML_kD0xyOnX3YhVPejmvOJAG1cNE9PKsEUf0fvdghXmfGtCNm_Ft/s320/nz_bike018.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>The Catlins area runs roughly from Waipap Point to Nugget Point, and includes a number of Reserves and Parks. The scenery slowly changes over to reflect this as we near the coast. More trees line the roads and hillsides, and the overall feel shifts to green. At times we ride through actual forest, which we haven't done in quite some time. The open Southland roads have been beautiful, but it is nice to be in a more intimate landscape once again. Sheep farms create a mosaic on the rolling countryside as we slip out of the rain shadow of the Southern Alps and bump up against the Pacific. As we crest a low pass, I get a flat, and we stop to work on the bike. The flat doesn't seem to bother me much as it provides an opportunity to stop for a moment, and enjoy the bucolic scenery and the sunny day. We can see our route flowing ahead of us, down into a valley, probably across a river, and then back to the water line.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpJ7F-trpBSP6pu7w3Ut4wzR7LnDGcHz3me9mS2K7ceOZ9DpBXl2PD3oRnYFR2QJsSVvXCUvCk0QDUEYmWJJ9n_ISsT8nHZc1LSdjZOMP7g1lGaxejRvYJyZEY4w7dBaclqLgbcGYNSNKD/s1600-h/nz_catlins_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpJ7F-trpBSP6pu7w3Ut4wzR7LnDGcHz3me9mS2K7ceOZ9DpBXl2PD3oRnYFR2QJsSVvXCUvCk0QDUEYmWJJ9n_ISsT8nHZc1LSdjZOMP7g1lGaxejRvYJyZEY4w7dBaclqLgbcGYNSNKD/s320/nz_catlins_001.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We ride like this, along the ocean, then into the interior and over the gentle hills, through some forest, then back to the coast, over and over throughout the day, and the rhythm of it becomes very soothing. Our travels are not rushed at this point, as we have settled in to ourselves and living on the bikes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We camp near the water, I believe near Haldane, Curio, or Porpoise bay. We hoped to see the petrified forest in the area, but timing of the tides does not work in our favor. (My notes are scarce for this part of the trip, but I'm determined to revisit this area and refresh my memory.) Eventually, we reach Nugget Point, an interesting geologic feature we have been pointed toward for several days. We spend hours walking around on the paths, watching the seals lounge below as the bladderkelp forest sways in the surf. This is the only known place on the South Island where fur seals, Hooker's sea lions, and elephant seals coexist, and the bird life is quite varied as well.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5i7IRyZPE-uzFnneE7DZa2ji7PpHgi06ttVGq9aU1VBm64HGZ6XHSc9powbnx_0F6HOPC2tA-AORytCiUPasVH0ONwtys2lIjAUEBQ-7YogrL-RmMYK9Maac5txQotNwwphiu_3K80f00/s1600-h/nz_nugget_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black;"></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5i7IRyZPE-uzFnneE7DZa2ji7PpHgi06ttVGq9aU1VBm64HGZ6XHSc9powbnx_0F6HOPC2tA-AORytCiUPasVH0ONwtys2lIjAUEBQ-7YogrL-RmMYK9Maac5txQotNwwphiu_3K80f00/s1600-h/nz_nugget_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5i7IRyZPE-uzFnneE7DZa2ji7PpHgi06ttVGq9aU1VBm64HGZ6XHSc9powbnx_0F6HOPC2tA-AORytCiUPasVH0ONwtys2lIjAUEBQ-7YogrL-RmMYK9Maac5txQotNwwphiu_3K80f00/s320/nz_nugget_001.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"> From Nugget Point we continue north on country roads. Just at the edge of the Catlins we spend a rainy, blustery evening in the comfort of a hostel. The wind howls all evening and I sleep fitfully. Tomorrow our destination will be Dunedin, and the hospitality of a friend from the States.</div>Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-9751164409425197522009-11-20T15:50:00.005-05:002010-06-23T10:35:51.128-04:00Southland (NZ part 19)(NZ part 1 <a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html">here</a>)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBxdWnJrS91y-KQ6emS-R65nbslx1_s6CwKLABT4GQBcwko65X4rrPagM4adD18RchChkqoKC3Bb39zeErDz9MxVMKbbhsIYFFE3FfUHejYxhVHYYtagG3LhJMEw16-dOYJS4WtwD55dQE/s1600/nz_bike015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBxdWnJrS91y-KQ6emS-R65nbslx1_s6CwKLABT4GQBcwko65X4rrPagM4adD18RchChkqoKC3Bb39zeErDz9MxVMKbbhsIYFFE3FfUHejYxhVHYYtagG3LhJMEw16-dOYJS4WtwD55dQE/s320/nz_bike015.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I've started noticing signs of fall coming on. Nights are getting quite cold, and we are near our southern-most point in our adventure. The water in my camelbak is warmed by my body heat, but the bit that is in the drink tube is cooled by the passing air. I wore my wool hat for the first time in quite a few weeks the other evening. Sometimes it's too cold to ride in the morning or evening with just my normal short sleeved shirt and bike shorts, even when the sun is out. My thoughts are starting to wander toward home and my family more as well. I think about my parents, and their experiences growing up, and time spent seeing the places they once called home.<br />
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And I think about going home and trying to live as simply as I can, as we have been here, on our bikes. Simple living, but engaged. As I ride across an historic suspension bridge I look down and realize my feet, my body, my whole physical being, its activity has been paralleled by my attentiveness. My thoughts have become as active and energetic as my feet, and have also settled into the rhythm of riding.<br />
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We camp south of Te Anau, near Manapouri. It is rural, yet more human scaled here. The Fiordlands to our west seem much less inhospitable than they did on our ride to Milford Sound. Small towns and farm country surrounds us as we head further south towards the coast. The riding is much flatter here as well, although we do climb onto plateaus and look out over gentle slopes. Clifden, the Waiau River, Tuatapere - the towns feel more and more like those connected to the sea. There are shipyards, and merchant streets we ride along, and the smell of the ocean. And then we see it, crest a bluff and look down on the long arch of Te Waewae Bay. The waves roll in, small, but Dan says this would be a place to surf.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV-m54ltTxdXmglMMlModGVVs1p4i7GDTjistOpeOp5Of1FM187_Chfv83I8QYQoEs85sT-bANnpVHOiW9ECdk0kRMElE8xRMg5q6JeWpIQ9kaQ74ndeuUgH1BScoKeYfqw-KQ57ryg1Pm/s1600/nz_bike016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV-m54ltTxdXmglMMlModGVVs1p4i7GDTjistOpeOp5Of1FM187_Chfv83I8QYQoEs85sT-bANnpVHOiW9ECdk0kRMElE8xRMg5q6JeWpIQ9kaQ74ndeuUgH1BScoKeYfqw-KQ57ryg1Pm/s320/nz_bike016.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The coastal riding is relatively easy, and we roll on. And the wind kicks up at our backs. We race through the growing human landscape, sailing on the gusts and our desire to be back in the places where we know we can pull over and camp without hassle. We make it a long distance day, stopping to resupply in Invercargil. We continue on and camp in a farmers field outside of town, on the boundary of an area we've looked forward to with anticipation, the Catlins.</div>Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-13104368472392252552009-11-20T14:28:00.007-05:002010-06-23T10:35:39.620-04:00Fiordland 2 (NZ part 18)(NZ part 1 <a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html">here</a>)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvwdY9ZVSgo9KV8JFO0YOeqXHpZatiyuxUaKgIBV8Yi3YFXYt4Nr0sJXYaaWlxhI-6wWXPWa_nTveRBwrm3eRfae635Va_mcp3iC0-nFx_GS89alC4xGfk32Uhvx273NHVsRCqpsP_V6ka/s1600/nz_bike014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvwdY9ZVSgo9KV8JFO0YOeqXHpZatiyuxUaKgIBV8Yi3YFXYt4Nr0sJXYaaWlxhI-6wWXPWa_nTveRBwrm3eRfae635Va_mcp3iC0-nFx_GS89alC4xGfk32Uhvx273NHVsRCqpsP_V6ka/s320/nz_bike014.jpg" /></a></div><br />
The ride starts with a long uphill slog. We climb for several hours before reaching the entrance to the Homer Tunnel, which we must pass through to get to Milford Sound. The valley ends abruptly in sheer cliffs and scree slopes and the tunnel runs straight through the the mountain forming the western wall of this bowl. We've been told the only safe way to get through the one way tunnel is to wait near the entrance and coordinate with one of the numerous tour busses that make the trip to Milford. When they have gotten clearance from the busses at the other end of the tunnel, several of them head through at once. A driver agrees to let us ride down (and it's steep heading west - 10%?) in front of him, lighting our way with his headlights, as there are no lights built into the tunnel, and ensuring no busses come up behind us unaware. It is so dark we can hardly see our handlebars, but we are at least a little relieved that the drivers know we are there. We pop out into the new valley, and have an easy, fast ride down the 15 km or so to sea level. The forest is incredible here as well, and mountain rivers cross under the road and roar along beside us often. At one, we catch a quick glimpse of Mount Tutoko, the highest in the area, still covered in snow and glacier.<br />
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And then we are at the Sound. We sit at the edge of the water, eating lunch and watching the clouds blow around, clinging to Mitre Peak, rising almost three thousand feet up from Milford Sound. I feel rewarded with the most majestic views on a beautiful, sun filled day. It is yet another day that I will crawl into my sleeping bag hardly able to believe the places I've seen and the good fortune I've had to get here.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtgSUwiK_2WPWN4GjfJgJPh4IEwodOHo7mtOx7qxdfGBa-YojkWMR88LgMjsEJsdJgHQf5T5jXzQ-yJS9LDhpBul8G3W6WF_-I5NMvx0-SP5UstwkzLpN_rNmPNwL3NinqX1V-MSxmQXhT/s1600/nz_milford_002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtgSUwiK_2WPWN4GjfJgJPh4IEwodOHo7mtOx7qxdfGBa-YojkWMR88LgMjsEJsdJgHQf5T5jXzQ-yJS9LDhpBul8G3W6WF_-I5NMvx0-SP5UstwkzLpN_rNmPNwL3NinqX1V-MSxmQXhT/s320/nz_milford_002.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>(Mitre Peak rises out of Milford Sound)</i></span></div><br />
At camp in Milford, I run into a geologist named Kieth, from the University of Vermont, who I was told would be in New Zealand at the same time. The meeting here, on his last day in NZ, is purely coincidental. We sit and talk for a little while, and he tells me of his desire to one day put his finger on the very line dividing the old rock of the New Zealand coast from the newer rock crushed against that ancient coast in the most recent collision of plates. It sounds quite ambitious to me, and I wonder if such a point exists, but I keep my thoughts to myself. So many things in nature manage to elude the theoretical absolute, but maybe geology is different in this respect.<br />
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The ride back to Te Anau is as incredible as the ride in. The hills from Milford Sound up to the Homer Tunnel are grueling, but beautiful. We put on headlamps and charge up the Tunnel in front of another tour bus, before dropping into the Hollyford Valley again, and coast to The Divide. Just north of Lake Te Anau, I get a view I didn't notice on the way out, a mountain that looks like it was once flat, but broke free at one edge and hinged upward. The slope on the south side is an even grade for thousands of feet, then the peak drops abruptly into the river valley on its north side. I am reminded that there are new things to experience whether in a new place or a familiar, as we are always capable of changing our perspective if we so choose.Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-9257098096768912542009-11-20T13:15:00.007-05:002010-06-23T10:35:29.359-04:00Fiordland (NZ part 17)<span style="font-size: small;">(NZ part 1 </span><a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html"><span style="font-size: small;">here</span></a><span style="font-size: small;">)</span><br />
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We make camp on the Von River, which flows along next to the road. The stars are bright once again, away from the lights of town, and our usual companion Orion is with us again, upside down from our Northern Hemisphere perspective. And the Southern Cross, new to us. I often search for these few familiar stars before my mind wanders across the other starts.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijc0iN_ea4dWlvcnsN4ppxy_1Z2m6oXUI9mpNLO-Y9x3xVVT1tUGRgdEhZg9brnWDqgzv0_Hkt4AOxRa9SxBO1OCLarxGbYOqPRy0xf3j9zeQbyO16d7bseDDm6tHqyamlkXHpLKJsY8Vj/s1600/nz_walter_peak_002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijc0iN_ea4dWlvcnsN4ppxy_1Z2m6oXUI9mpNLO-Y9x3xVVT1tUGRgdEhZg9brnWDqgzv0_Hkt4AOxRa9SxBO1OCLarxGbYOqPRy0xf3j9zeQbyO16d7bseDDm6tHqyamlkXHpLKJsY8Vj/s320/nz_walter_peak_002.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">(Back country in Walter Peak Station - Photo Dan Cantrell)</span></i></div><br />
Our ride starts with a solid climb, ending in a high grassy plain that stretches out before us almost without end it seems. We make good time, riding side by side again in the compressed tire tracks. We stop at Mavora Lake, as a possible camp spot, but the sand flies descend on us, and we waste no time getting back on the road. After more gravel, we hit the main road into Te Anau, and turn right. The sun is setting ahead of us and storm clouds are caught on the hills around the town. Down a small access road 20 km out of Te Anau we pitch our tents and wash the dust and sweat off in a dipping hole. I wake in the night to rain, just enough to pull the rain fly closed, then drift back into sleep. At breakfast I snap my spoon trying to extract a sand fly from my oat meal.<br />
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We ride into Te Anau through the rain, and arrive at a Backpacker by mid day. Renting a room seems like the best option for drying our gear and preparing for a potentially wet trip with no supplies up to Milford Sound. The next day, with our food bins fully packed we head north on Highway 94 for the 240 km round trip.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq-21eB3t-MJdh6h3o4BUjY04btB8xNbeD3KuZ6TRuJwKzWuP_L-ZJiiQxpXanOzo884AYCFVjD_PMACOzptl6OX2AS6ImADk_8gWNfi3-X6hr77A6Td1pWJn3VNQ0BY1VGY2mAZjSke0D/s1600/nz_bike013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq-21eB3t-MJdh6h3o4BUjY04btB8xNbeD3KuZ6TRuJwKzWuP_L-ZJiiQxpXanOzo884AYCFVjD_PMACOzptl6OX2AS6ImADk_8gWNfi3-X6hr77A6Td1pWJn3VNQ0BY1VGY2mAZjSke0D/s320/nz_bike013.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">On the sealed road surface, with no headwind, we make good time. Highway 94 runs along the east side of Lake Te Anau for about 30 km, through farm land and low scrub that has a look of a recovering burn, and through an occasional forest. Looking across the lake, large bays cut into the mountains and forests. Black Cone, Dana Peaks, Hewitt Peaks, Turret Peaks, Mount Kane, and Castle Mountain rise above the lake and into the clouds. Then End Peak and Mount Eglinton separate us from the Lake, and we ride in a valley flanked by jagged peaks on both sides. Occasionally a tour bus roars past, with a few passengers sitting in the front seat, reminding me of people sitting in front of large screen televisions, watching the landscape rush past but cut off from it so profoundly by a quarter inch of glass.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtjyeFmKmYFldnb2yW3XyCXA5nCQ_H-nWF_yTDqOkbSc0Rqr8aUanTkas7STKKwwa6ID0FycVHseszuSlCiM2bAOmgNN2sRDxN5c0562JbAqRDMp7vt1JdRuhVl3DgHCQVNt5B6LhJD-oh/s1600/nz_milford_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtjyeFmKmYFldnb2yW3XyCXA5nCQ_H-nWF_yTDqOkbSc0Rqr8aUanTkas7STKKwwa6ID0FycVHseszuSlCiM2bAOmgNN2sRDxN5c0562JbAqRDMp7vt1JdRuhVl3DgHCQVNt5B6LhJD-oh/s320/nz_milford_001.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>(Riding toward Milford Sound - Photo Dan Cantrell)</i></span></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The forest builds, and at times we ride fully enclosed in a dense green tunnel of ferns and possibly a type of beach. The forest is so lush and the trees so large, at times five feet in diameter or bigger, I am reminded of the Olympic Peninsula in Washington. And then we slip out of the forest into a breathtaking flat, golden grasses waving in the ebb of the breeze. The peaks rise up one- two-thousand feet, so steep vegetation can hardly cling to the rocky surface, and slides can be seen all along the valley. The Eglinton River runs towards us, weaving back and forth across the golden flat. Soon we are back in the magical forest, and we climb past lakes and streams in an overgrown Adirondack scene. I crest The Divide from the Eglinton to the Hollyford Valley and am struck again by this landscape of mountains and rivers. The Hollyford River descends to the coast heading north in front of us, and the road turns west through the Darran Mountains to Milford Sound.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We make camp for the night near a fork in the road, where a side road descends down the Hollyford Valley. I think repeatedly about where that road leads, my consciousness is pulled in a way that is hard to explain or even comprehend, so strong that I still feel the pull of that valley nearly ten years later. Maybe it was the force of gravity and water, sleeping among these fastest of rising mountains, with the open seas below, colliding with the Hollyford River in a spectacular dance of sand and froth. Or maybe it was that same pull that every traveller feels when looking down a road that heads into the unknown, magnified by the magic in the mountains.</div>Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-55915024274803973132009-11-20T10:42:00.007-05:002010-06-23T10:35:19.070-04:00Wanaka and Queenstown (NZ part 16)<span style="font-size: small;">(NZ part 1 </span><a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html"><span style="font-size: small;">here</span></a><span style="font-size: small;">)</span><br />
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"Real travel requires a maximum of unscheduled wandering, for there is no other way of discovering surprises and marvels, which, as I see it, is the only good reason for not staying at home." Alan Watts, <i>The Book</i><br />
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We spent several days hanging around the Wanaka area, from the quick trip out to Aspiring Hut to a day riding single track near town we were told about at the bike shop. The town was one of those wonderful surprises for me, although really every day held surprises and marvels as we really never had much of a plan other than to make it back to Christchurch for our flight home. But I felt very comfortable in Wanaka. But we felt we needed to continue on, and we wanted to continue on. I was so used to the rhythm of being on the bike, and the feeling associated with seeing new country each day. Riding a bike is such a sensual way to experience a place, and I loved it all.<br />
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We head south out of town, toward Queenstown, on a back route to the adventure capital of New Zealand. The road follows the Cardrona River valley, climbing through the high foot hills of the Southern Alps. The landscape is dry again, now that we are in the rain shadow of big peaks. The hills are gentle and tan and brown. Eventually we reach the small town of Cardrona, and speak with an older chap outside a shop, who tells us about the times when this was once the main route between Wanaka and Queenstown, and how in the hills, up near he Cordrona Ski Fields, European car manufacturers used to bring their vehicles for rough testing and rally training. He is encouraging about our route over the pass at the head of the valley.<br />
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We continue up, the kind of long gradual climb that gives you time, that let your mind wander to fantasies of where you are heading, to longings, to regrets from the past, and to the mild burn in your legs, knowing it is all fleeting in some way. Construction crews work on the road just below the pass, a rugged area where the river has ripped away the gravels and narrowed the surface of the road. And then we have made it. We stop and take in the valley, Lake Wakatipu zig-zagging below, pinched between the arid mountains of southern New Zealand, the flanks of the Richardson Mountains to the north, and the Eyre Mountains in front of us, and the famous jagged peaks of the Remarkables off to our left, providing cover for one arm of Wakatipu. The road snakes along the shoulder of the mountains to our right, and we descend on dirt and gravel ball bearings until we hit asphalt, then switch back and forth happily until we blast out onto the valley floor.<br />
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The ride towards Queenstown is busy, there is more energy here than we've seen in quite a while, and it makes Wanaka and the old timer in Cardrona seem even farther away. Queenstown is quite a draw for those looking for an adrenaline rush, so the activity level doesn't fully take me by surprise. We camp on the outskirts of town the first night. It is a low quality affair, with no lights or electricity in the kitchen and trash overflowing the containers. After being out in the backcountry, an abused campsite in a developed area looks all the worse. We won't be here a second night.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMcythcf3Dv0OVFmRheEXYb236WnCXWwpQ3fKYaFt2l_ZSbs8OtgGjLiDZ8JAbaEbvuhntd4zGdemBVp1zOLU-eAHaF9H9ecnrMZ8KigHv0FkKkgcILLn7bfe38jjexsqULrzXD8hInqmV/s1600/nz_bike012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMcythcf3Dv0OVFmRheEXYb236WnCXWwpQ3fKYaFt2l_ZSbs8OtgGjLiDZ8JAbaEbvuhntd4zGdemBVp1zOLU-eAHaF9H9ecnrMZ8KigHv0FkKkgcILLn7bfe38jjexsqULrzXD8hInqmV/s320/nz_bike012.jpg" /></a></div><br />
On the ride into town, we are able to ride side by side on a path, and it is nice to have a leisurely day ahead of us. The conversation shifts from the spectacular riding we've had thus far, to home and families, and back. Camp is made at a fairly nice (and clean) camp ground just a few minutes from town early in the day. We spend a little time exploring in and around Queenstown, but since we aren't planning any adventure activities, we decide to move on before long. We take rides without our trailers along the lake, and up Ben Lomond, to the top of the gondola, for views that are almost surreal.<br />
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There is a passenger ferry, the Earnslaw, that runs from Queenstown across Lake Wakitipu to the old farming outpost of Walter Peak Station. The ferry is used almost exclusively as a round trip from Queenstown for sight seeing, but we see that we can take our bikes along, get dropped at the Station, and have a long ride out through a fairly rural area, so it looks perfect. The boat is an old steam powered ship and we watch the engineer and the two stokers operate the coal fired engines. Each of the two engines have three cylinders, and produce 500 hp. They have been in service for over eighty years, and burned about 1 ton of coal per hour.<br />
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Walter Peak Station is very nice and tourist oriented, but we head south on the gravel road toward Te Anau without much deliberation. I feel the freedom of a young child on summer vacation as I ride along one of the most beautiful rural roads I have ever travelled. I look down at the gravel, two packed tire tracks passing under me, and imagine for a second I am young and riding my old dirt bike.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3OUmUHaHd2o3MZQ0zUzOXMpAjvDgj2bBvwlTS0vvtm5nTS5luyXa53DAxAjK1cjVas7dza8aKAknQii9hVS88U4MsE5_9mv1IhCXp2cBu9SjZ_BHv8fgD9gzACYlRfsMH56hWI6NIZmhB/s1600/nz_walter_peak_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3OUmUHaHd2o3MZQ0zUzOXMpAjvDgj2bBvwlTS0vvtm5nTS5luyXa53DAxAjK1cjVas7dza8aKAknQii9hVS88U4MsE5_9mv1IhCXp2cBu9SjZ_BHv8fgD9gzACYlRfsMH56hWI6NIZmhB/s320/nz_walter_peak_001.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>(Dirt track out of Walter Peak Station)</i></span></div>Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-48218707319404213862009-11-18T16:24:00.006-05:002010-06-23T10:35:10.051-04:00Wanaka & Aspiring (NZ part 15)(NZ part 1 <a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html">here</a>)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjCeDvb-r1n5fhExym8QsODnGUjvMHTkmHitsn6e4MtTyflyx5peuO5a2CsHalTdpj4uoL41tT8NZ5FcYR3uiySCzfF1aCQ2JQFsiQhWFVK_N3T1o3MBazi5aK3yH4slH8Gq6wYeXlp1SL/s1600/nz_bike011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjCeDvb-r1n5fhExym8QsODnGUjvMHTkmHitsn6e4MtTyflyx5peuO5a2CsHalTdpj4uoL41tT8NZ5FcYR3uiySCzfF1aCQ2JQFsiQhWFVK_N3T1o3MBazi5aK3yH4slH8Gq6wYeXlp1SL/s320/nz_bike011.jpg" /></a></div><br />
In the morning, we continue south, with Lake Wanaka and the rugged mountains of Mt. Aspiring National Park on our right (Mt. Awful, Mt. Alba, Mt. Kuri, Mt. Jumbo, Mt. Albert, Mt. Twilight, and the Minaret Peaks), then cross a thin spit of land (the Neck) and ride with another glacial lake, the deep and brilliant Lake Hawea, on our left. It is a splendid trip in to Wanaka, and I feel at home almost instantly. We ride around the town, checking out the beach, before settling on a basic camp ground on the west end of town. The feel here is calming, and we wander around more, stopping at the local bike shop and discovering a funky movie theatre that we return to in the evening and watch <i>Fight Club</i> from one of the couches that serves as seating. (Someone beat us to the Volkswagen Beetle parked in a corner of the room.) The town seems to be full of fun and youthful souls, and we find ourselves in conversation with other travelers more than we have at any other time on the trip.<br />
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I enjoyed being in a town, especially Wanaka, but our adventure was still calling to us loudly, and at that point it was Mt. Aspiring that spoke to us. We studied our maps, and decided on a ride out the Matukituki Valley, to <a href="http://www.doc.govt.nz/parks-and-recreation/places-to-stay/backcountry-huts-by-region/otago/wanaka-area/aspiring-hut/">Aspiring Hut</a>, near, but not in sight of, the namesake for one of New Zealand's World Heritage Sites.<br />
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We ride north out of town, again along Lake Wanaka, this time along the other side of it, on decent and quite roads. Soon we are on dirt, then on the longest washboard I have ever experienced in my life. Everything rattles. The suspension only soaks up so much of it, the rest rattles teeth and gear alike. I find there is only one speed that seems to keep things in harmony: slow. Dan is frustrated by the rigid frame on his bike and complains bitterly about the road conditions. I agree with him of course. We ride past the entrance to Treble Cone Ski Fields, where heavy machinery roars on the switchbacks overhead. Amazingly as we ride past, we hear and see car-sized boulders tumbling down the slope from the work site. Eventually we are at the end of the auto road and onto the track, which we ride without too much trouble, and to the amusement of several hikers making the same trip. At Aspiring Hut we take the wheels off our bikes and trailers so them can be brought into a vestibule area - we are warned that the parrots would likely destroy every bit of rubber on them if left outside. We enjoy a warm evening in the hut, cooking and eating with climbers there to explore the peaks around the Park. They tell stories and laugh easily.Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-66663531812933616562009-11-18T15:35:00.007-05:002010-06-23T10:34:48.533-04:00Haast (NZ part 14)<span style="font-size: small;">(NZ part 1 </span><a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html"><span style="font-size: small;">here</span></a><span style="font-size: small;">)</span><br />
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The hike out Douglas Rock Hut turns out to be quite a slog, but still incredibly scenic. The Copland River has gone down a bit after the rains of several days before and many of the smaller streams that ran across the trail are no longer visible. The long day of stepping down takes a toll on my right knee, sensitive from an old ski injury, and I am very glad when we reach the trail head. And even more happy when we are offered a ride to Fox Glacier to return the hiking boots. A pint of Speight's on the porch of a pub in town does wonders for aching bodies. We return to camp to fight off sandflies, which we have little success with short of cooking and eating as quickly as possible, then climbing in to the tent for the night. During the night they find the tiny whole where the two zippers of the door meet, and mount an attack. In the morning, we decide we've had it with them, and we will forgo the rest days we truly need in hopes of making it off the west coast, and out of sandfly territory, as quickly as possible. We figure two medium days should get us over Haast Pass.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVGz6o5AhqOeMh3qWsGORYKUbCP8TSt7ZXJIprxXF_C0mOK0s4ARb2dL9m9GDnyH056UgTsdb4YkNgFSonTfSNpEPHNLhOW5Ht-gaDCViIs-bQ9YmGHRprtqIx6Zf2H8pAO3U1UHk299ox/s1600/nz_bike010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVGz6o5AhqOeMh3qWsGORYKUbCP8TSt7ZXJIprxXF_C0mOK0s4ARb2dL9m9GDnyH056UgTsdb4YkNgFSonTfSNpEPHNLhOW5Ht-gaDCViIs-bQ9YmGHRprtqIx6Zf2H8pAO3U1UHk299ox/s320/nz_bike010.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We make camp near a small river south of Lake Paringa on the first night. We wash in the river and repeat our routine of a quick meal and retreat into the tents. Even an easy day of riding was painful, but eventually helped ease some of the aches. The ride into Haast the next day follows the coast line more closely than we've been in a while. We reach Haast in early afternoon, and with a forecast calling for rain and strong winds, we opt for a night in a Backpacker. The next morning things have not improved much, so we take the rest day that seems to have been granted to us and stay for another night.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When I finally hit Haast Pass, I am exceedingly grateful for the pace we have taken over the past several days after the beating I took coming down the Copland Track. The road up the Pass is decent, and the traffic is not too heavy, and we climb on and on. Every now and then there is an encouraging shout or honk from one of the cars, and I keep pedaling. I vow to pedal until the final crest, which isn't that impressive as this is the lowest of the three Southern Alps passes. The bike has been working fairly well since the repairs, but this climb, with the weight of the trailer and the need to shift out of the bottom gear on occasion, the rear derailer starts to get fussy. After switchbacks, I reach the crest of the Pass. Dan is there already, as he usually is, but I have stayed closer than usual. Maybe I'm built to climb... I pull over in a turnout, park the bike, let Dan know I need to give the shifting components a look. After a short road side tune, we are rolling again, down the gentle east side of Haast Pass, into the Lake Wanaka drainage and the more arid Otago climate we've been looking forward to. As the descent slows to undulating, we pull off the road to break for a snack. I am crushed when I realize that I have left my leatherman, a gift from my father, at the top of the Pass, being careless during my bike repair. I can't really stand the thought of riding back up the west side of the Pass. Dan says he will wait, and I decide to walk and hitch hike, and am quickly rewarded by a ride to the top by a friendly young Kiwi who chats quite knowledgeably about Vermont. He insists on turning and driving me back to my bike after I grab the leatherman off the guardrail at the top, and I don't put up much of a fight. Dan is surprised and happy to see me back so quickly. We make camp south of Makaroa, which is a cluster of only a few buildings.</div>Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-28565231048377384992009-11-06T15:41:00.006-05:002010-06-23T10:34:37.442-04:00On Foot, In the Alps (NZ part 13)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">(NZ part 1 </span><a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html"><span style="font-size: small;">here</span></a><span style="font-size: small;">)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyq_z_0b59eCiQW0z59GZ7haQo1uVquld_0u9E8N8OqQVWPr2mjA9ls12oG17s1OU2OZi-mynP0sK11r1RdQ-uGk8Tq06G8YzYrvNjCrq7oId19P3rHnG1JbcEZHR8PWyeP-CI9b-OuAqM/s1600-h/welcomeflat_sketch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyq_z_0b59eCiQW0z59GZ7haQo1uVquld_0u9E8N8OqQVWPr2mjA9ls12oG17s1OU2OZi-mynP0sK11r1RdQ-uGk8Tq06G8YzYrvNjCrq7oId19P3rHnG1JbcEZHR8PWyeP-CI9b-OuAqM/s320/welcomeflat_sketch.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Welcome Flats are without a doubt welcome after the long climb from near sea level. There is a <a href="http://tramper.co.nz/?873">hut</a> here, and it is spacious and very well built for being isolated by 17 kms of bush. There is nothing quite like the feeling of being out in the middle of nowhere and coming upon something as civilized as shelter. It sleeps 32 on cots, has a good kitchen area with water from cisterns, coal/wood stove for heating, and natural sulphur springs hot pools a minutes walk down a small path. There are a total of four pools with varying temperatures depending on the route the inflow takes - the largest is about 2 feet deep and is maybe the second hottest, with a good deal of water flowing directly in from the springs themselves, 20 feet away. I soak in the pools for a while, watching the mountains in the mist and rain, before returning to the hut to make dinner.<br />
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In the morning I wake up to a beautiful day. The clouds have opened up a bit and the sun is beginning to stream into the valley as we start our hike toward Douglas Rock Hut and maybe Copland Pass. The peaks along this part of the valley are even higher, and glaciers and snowfields can be seen on many of them. Welcome Flats extends for maybe 2 or 3 kms up the valley and is like a high grassy pasture. The clouds break enough to catch a glimpse of the highest peaks of the area, in the far end of the valley where we are headed. Winds blow snow trails off the fluted points catching the morning sun light. To our left now, the Copland River relaxes on the Flat, mist rising off the cloudy blue water. We catch up with Cynthia, a camper we met a Welcome Flat Hut, and end up hiking with her for most of the day.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYuY1nN2-pUvNLeKChRPGv50AWvU8s_X7o-l2PUND-dZf7Ad1zuLE8nAUW7i1aOYzf-WUjXoO8V-ZPB-rMIAdJ5q7p2ySXrMQJYm3AJnZvcuNw4p6SPnKlRWUeEy2703BzT45nBn4aobg8/s1600/nz_copland_002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYuY1nN2-pUvNLeKChRPGv50AWvU8s_X7o-l2PUND-dZf7Ad1zuLE8nAUW7i1aOYzf-WUjXoO8V-ZPB-rMIAdJ5q7p2ySXrMQJYm3AJnZvcuNw4p6SPnKlRWUeEy2703BzT45nBn4aobg8/s320/nz_copland_002.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(Part way up Copland Track - photo by Cynthia)</span></i></div><br />
The trail runs back into rainforest and suddenly our views of the peaks are cut off except for small breaks in the bush or at spots where steep bolder filled creeks churn through the forest and hold the canopy back. Mosses cover the ground on either side of the track, run over roots and up into the branches of the trees. Most trunks have a thick fur of light green moss. On a foot bridge, I get a view out across the valley to my left. The chain of peaks break and a high hanging valley joins the one we are in. On each margin of the valley, white ribbons of water and spray step down to join the Copland River, and in the far distance, over the horizon of the valley, rise more peaks and snowfields supplying these two creeks. I can hardly believe the beauty of this spot, thick rainforest covering slopes as far as I can see, a stark contrast to the barren grazing lands of Molesworth. Avalanches and mudslides mark where the mountains are slipping back on themselves, while above tree line, layers of exposed rock, pointing off at 45 degrees from horizontal show how this earth has risen, some of the fasted rising peaks in the world.<br />
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We reach Douglas Rock Hut after about 3 hours, eat part of a lunch, and head further up the valley. I am amazed at the size of the Copland River, it still holds quite a lot of water here, and we are over 20 kms up this valley. The gradient of the river has increased again, and the bed is full of house and car sized boulders which the river slams into head on, or sometimes slips underneath. Less than an hour from Douglas Rock and we are into what seems like a high alpine bush or grassland. We have left the trees, and there is no longer a full canopy overhead. Tussocks line the trail and rise to eight feet or more in height. Mixed in are small deciduous shrubs or trees no bigger than my arm. Occasionally we step around ragged yellow flowers that droop under the weight of the dew. The valley turns off to the northeast. We sit on boulders in a small creek, eat the rest of lunch, and decide we will try to follow the valley up to it's terminus at Copland Pass. I feel like I have already made it, have seen what makes me content while sitting on these boulders. The knowledge of this place is what I've come for, but I will go on to the pass with Dan as well.<br />
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Again we cross a high flat stretch. The walls of the valley have become more U shaped, and overhead hanging glaciers peer over sheer cliff walls and their outflows make long misty waterfalls that trail off in the wind. We round a bend and finally see the end of the valley - a huge bowl with what appear to be cliffs rising on the three sides. Two tarns of the brightest blue sit in depressions carved out by the glacier, and the Copland River begins where it breaches the dam made by the terminal moraine. Other moraines, older, skirt the north side of the valley, now beginning to grow vegetation. The newest are made up only of scree and boulders of grey rock.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdXc4rMTHNn941PShOhjR3wJlSCIOW0yIxct6m4rMTN8TI5_PUkQvMVXKWpHGPcF9NsLFxRjepsbLcuKqhgCsOnYPl1kEFdb07bHGqGmkX6xayEZuosZrjMEr_iRwUsVw7mmqzXBqgdrfU/s1600/nz_copland_003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdXc4rMTHNn941PShOhjR3wJlSCIOW0yIxct6m4rMTN8TI5_PUkQvMVXKWpHGPcF9NsLFxRjepsbLcuKqhgCsOnYPl1kEFdb07bHGqGmkX6xayEZuosZrjMEr_iRwUsVw7mmqzXBqgdrfU/s320/nz_copland_003.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>(Approaching Copland Pass)</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>As we reach the end of the valley, we see that it is not vertical cliff. We climb up and out, traversing back and forth across a ridge bounded on either side by deep, narrow gorges, carved by the glacial outflow streams. We come closest to the one on the northern edge, in spots walking right along the edge, glancing down at the potholes and waterfalls of the little stream. The last one visible falls away into nothing, its bottom hidden from our view. The alpine vegetation has almost completely disappeared and the trail criss-crosses the grey scree fields, making the grey kairns which mark the path very hard to spot at a distance. Small pockets of snow come in to view as I reach the last pitch. I have lost the trail altogether, but Dan has headed off up to my left, so I work my way towards him. Before I get too far he retreats and says the scree is far too unstable to make it up the left side. As we traverse the opposite way a large rock I'm standing on begins a creeping descent and I hold my breath while it slows, and stops. The climbing is not technical, but it is still quite a long hike out, so an injury could be a real hassle.<br />
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At the end of the traverse we are able to drop into a slight depression that has hidden the trail and the more stable rock, and we head up again. We crest the ridge and see a few small snowfields between us and the main mountain divide. We make a quick dash up and have a look over the edge, in to the valley on the eastern side of the Alps. It will be quite some time until we make it to that part of the island on our bikes. Within 15 minutes the pass has been covered by clouds and the wind picks up. It is time to head down, looking out over the valley, to the clouds floating over the Tasman Sea to our west, the Copland River just a ribbon through grey boulders and dense green forest.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7HLcUNzktlOlVivXDHqb4NJiXV0UNIM01l8TU2d5K_OvWgAiuD9v1dRqI0zYQBHFqbZjWtRUESLVg62l8QlywArIk3dJ2v5zVolthkT9WAw8AG2OBRZWSCgvf-CUyus20MGQyiSlKYE8T/s1600/nz_copland_004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7HLcUNzktlOlVivXDHqb4NJiXV0UNIM01l8TU2d5K_OvWgAiuD9v1dRqI0zYQBHFqbZjWtRUESLVg62l8QlywArIk3dJ2v5zVolthkT9WAw8AG2OBRZWSCgvf-CUyus20MGQyiSlKYE8T/s320/nz_copland_004.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>(Descending from Copland Pass - Photo Dan Cantrell)</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>We are back at Douglas Rock Hut by about 9 pm, for a total of over 12 hours of hiking. It has been an incredible day. We eat dinner with the western light streaming in on the glaciers and the high peaks, later the near full moon hangs framed between spires to our north.Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-39281624831508515552009-11-06T13:48:00.006-05:002010-06-23T10:34:27.468-04:00Water Music (NZ part 12)<span style="font-size: small;">(NZ part 1 </span><a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html"><span style="font-size: small;">here</span></a><span style="font-size: small;">)</span><br />
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It is still raining when I wake up, but it has let up significantly. We gather our gear and decide to do the tramp - it's going to be raining whether we're on bikes or on foot. We stash the bikes and excess gear in the bush by the trail head, then cover it all with a rain fly and huge fern fronds. The parrots probably present more of a threat to our gear than thieves. The bush is so thick and dark you can hardly see 20 feet into it from the road, but it is still nerve racking leaving everything you have to survive and heading off. But it is all just gear, nothing that couldn't be replaced if need be, and our load could definitely stand to be lightened.<br />
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We finish taking care of all the gear and hike into the rain forest with the Copland River a little way off on our right. I switch to my sandals quickly as the hiking boots actually have very little support and water is flowing everywhere around us from the rain. I don't feel like hiking in uncomfortable, soaking wet boots, and I don't feeling like stopping to take them off every 15 minutes to cross a stream.<br />
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Now that the rain has slowed, I feel lucky for the rain as it has filled the forest with the sounds of running water, bubbling, murmuring, cascading everywhere. They cut through the forest around every corner, coursing along over moss-covered roots and splashing down exposed rock faces, sometimes running right along next to the trail channelized by glacial moraines, or channels of a previous Copland River. The sound of water comes from everywhere around us.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvWyppCCVM3opJgAdJrO0G2HdjyTv_WJM0xgYnj99kJnls0gn1LickG_Qo_AQuAE7etwWgjlIPnZkCTXHKoUZN3OHbSMcj30J4AkG7gy9SjKbGpoJXS7qZnU8f0PTUlBA2hssB7QL1sRYb/s1600/nz_copland_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvWyppCCVM3opJgAdJrO0G2HdjyTv_WJM0xgYnj99kJnls0gn1LickG_Qo_AQuAE7etwWgjlIPnZkCTXHKoUZN3OHbSMcj30J4AkG7gy9SjKbGpoJXS7qZnU8f0PTUlBA2hssB7QL1sRYb/s320/nz_copland_001.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">(Stream crossing on Copland Track - Photo Dan Cantrell)</span></i></div><br />
As we climb higher we gain more views into the valley, which cuts through enormous peaks almost as the the trail begins. Clouds sit on the tops of mountains and dump rain that pours off the mountains and clouds in huge cascades, or long, feathery spray. At one point I see four waterfalls at once, all of which seem to fall from the clouds as I can't see their source. A flat ceiling of grey clouds, resting on walls of sheer mountain slopes, wisps of waterfalls dropping one hundred, two hundred fee, some not touching down at all but returning to vapor and clouds in a gust of moist wind. Punchbowl lookout. Architect Creek suspension bridge - max load, one person bouncing thirty feet about the churning, frothy creek.Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-78691668174048253172009-11-06T12:57:00.013-05:002010-06-23T10:34:12.836-04:00The Glaciers (NZ part 11)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">(NZ part 1 </span><a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html"><span style="font-size: small;">here</span></a><span style="font-size: small;">)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzRKK_Btelzs9Xz423tzg0xyEOEcRctUFTGOcTrdg_2-EOJdsOD7kBr3HE3otWKXCTfr5INnfCdyhmD7Vrfp71R33jZfc90AIBjl2SZY6JIbdmVZQa1_0nkbiBlDGXu5jvueMiqFg-4Hcb/s1600-h/nz_bike009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzRKK_Btelzs9Xz423tzg0xyEOEcRctUFTGOcTrdg_2-EOJdsOD7kBr3HE3otWKXCTfr5INnfCdyhmD7Vrfp71R33jZfc90AIBjl2SZY6JIbdmVZQa1_0nkbiBlDGXu5jvueMiqFg-4Hcb/s320/nz_bike009.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We ride on the next day, make it to the town of Franz Joseph, where the glacier of the same name descends from the Southern Alps. The weather is good on our riding, surprising me after the forboding comments on the West Coast I have heard. We've had no rain and only minor headwinds as we approach a few of the major valleys hitting the coast. The winds drop down out of the Alps, funneled through the valleys, then spill out onto the plain we ride along. I wonder if this is an unusual weather pattern as most of the trees I see are knarled and shaped by a prevailing southwest wind. As we reach the valleys and turn more perpendicular to them, we ride the bikes leaned into the wind for fun, like children seeing if they will be held suspended in a gale, with outstretched arms and rain slickers flapping. After a bit of play, we notice that we are almost sailing along and can actually make impressive time once we have "come about" like this. Pedaling in the top gear is easy.</span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Franz Joseph is quite touristy, buses everywhere. I see the glacier as I ride down Highway 6 through town. We pedal further, and camp on the natural levees along the glacial outflow river, which flows along with quite a bit of melt and rain water. Even so, there is a huge, braided plain to fill before the water even touches the foot of these levees - actually lateral moraines created by the glacier when its terminus reached this far down.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We hit rain on our ride south from our Franz Joseph campsite. I don't mind much. Spending a day riding in the weather isn't like making a mad dash for cover in your dry clothes during a downpour. You are just in the elements. We continue south toward the other main glacier town, Fox Glacier. The hills between the two are some of the toughest for me thus far, probably 20 km of what seems like mostly uphill, then finally, a nice long downhill into the town of Fox Glacier, a bit smaller and slightly less touristy than Franz Joseph. It is hard to gauge which hills are hardest from memory, as there is often such a play between the mental and physical toughness of pushing forward on a long trip like this.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLkjG0JCzr8d-MA8c_4znOs9x3xT7a-5z_if696zvOl_7fxyoz79AoialBjd87OEHKv5VoGF73i70sjVd0WT6tdCY_3fKTdocjPNpITpt-62G_FS-P7OMLxjRYyVTTnWYcSHXUzjHX7BFb/s1600/nz_fox_glacier_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLkjG0JCzr8d-MA8c_4znOs9x3xT7a-5z_if696zvOl_7fxyoz79AoialBjd87OEHKv5VoGF73i70sjVd0WT6tdCY_3fKTdocjPNpITpt-62G_FS-P7OMLxjRYyVTTnWYcSHXUzjHX7BFb/s320/nz_fox_glacier_001.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(Drying out in Fox Glacier - Photo Dan Cantrell)</span></i></span></div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></div></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We eat muffins and hot scones under a roof and allow our skin and shirts to dry out a little. I notice some tourist fresh off their bus tour giving us a bit of a once over, and feel proud of our perseverence under all conditions. We have hardly slept indoors since we started on our ride. Any good dirtbag traveler knows the looks we get. Studying our maps we pick our next stop. We rent hiking boots from Alpine Guides, restock on camp food, and bike out to the Copland Track trail head. By the time we reach the trail head, it is raining hard, and the sand flies are the worst we have seen them. We crawl into a hastily pitched tent after a quick dinner and a donated beer from some Hawaiians who have decided to skip the tramp (hike) and head north to Fox Glacier. I tell Dan if it's raining like this in the morning we should bail as well.</span></div>Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-43290793572813398042009-11-02T18:35:00.005-05:002010-06-23T10:34:02.968-04:00Tasman Sea (NZ part 10)<span style="font-size: small;">(NZ part 1 </span><a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html"><span style="font-size: small;">here</span></a><span style="font-size: small;">)</span><br />
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We continue along the Buller River towards Westport, the first town we will hit on the west coast. We're now on Highway 6, which will take us most of the way down the west coast as there are very few through roads that follow the general route we are planning. We've also been warned about how wet this area can be, so easier riding might be fine.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBmV7R7iLSkSkkCcOIu35o5i8IccqbLVOtxDz7QSVTpRxWyxm_e4wuwmombp7mvdEw3pdpVwd8nSR3G1J_-6UxSl3jFMgPNtlElkh6HNSkttya9vY06sxxyQyzuCchotaMcyWFTItGOjTF/s1600-h/nz_bike007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBmV7R7iLSkSkkCcOIu35o5i8IccqbLVOtxDz7QSVTpRxWyxm_e4wuwmombp7mvdEw3pdpVwd8nSR3G1J_-6UxSl3jFMgPNtlElkh6HNSkttya9vY06sxxyQyzuCchotaMcyWFTItGOjTF/s320/nz_bike007.jpg" /></a></div><br />
In Westport, and ready for a rest. I need to get the front brake bracket on the borrowed bike fixed as the rough riding has cracked one of the arms. I find a shop that does marine welding for all the fishing boats in the area, and they do a solid looking fix for a very reasonable price. We take the opportunity to do general maintenance on the bikes as well - cleaning the drive components, checking pivot points, etc. I also took apart the whole front fork hoping that it will reduce the pounding on the brake bracket.<br />
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We head south out of Westport on Highway 6, even though we've been warned that the wind will be against us the whole way and we will be soaking wet the entire time. We didn't know either when we decided to take a left and go counterclockwise. Westport has reminded me of Negril Jamaica - the way it sits at the intersection of inland and coastal roads, with it's hills dropping down to a large plain stretching out to meet the sea.<br />
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I see the signs of rainforest starting to crop up the farther we go. The forest is lush, the ferns and trees are grow bigger. We have left the rain shadow of the Southern Alps and are now riding as exposed as the island itself, facing the storms that blow off the pacific. But the weather holds, and we are making great time with little head wind. We spend our first night out of Westport on the Punakaiki River, and our second on a beach strewn with logs just north of Hokitika. A man surf casts in the evening as we lounge around camp. He walks past with his dog when he finishes, empty handed. The are both thin and deliberate in their motions.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipTINln9odYEHaXZVunrQn2ybhc4YlYknn45pYFjB_n8zXyd-vM2_2Ij6_fHVa5Sh7QHHUvQn1SH4Mb7rEYSD6qpbKrYH3a-GocrIIHlEqYCwZnND1OfRYRolg6cpyHITUA-iIiQd7dpPA/s1600/nz_seaview_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipTINln9odYEHaXZVunrQn2ybhc4YlYknn45pYFjB_n8zXyd-vM2_2Ij6_fHVa5Sh7QHHUvQn1SH4Mb7rEYSD6qpbKrYH3a-GocrIIHlEqYCwZnND1OfRYRolg6cpyHITUA-iIiQd7dpPA/s320/nz_seaview_001.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(Beach campsite north of Hokitika)</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>We find ourselves in Hokitika the next day, to check in with the world beyond our daily riding. The town was a hub during the gold rush and signs of that history are conspicuous, clinging to the glamor it must of had at the height of it. Jewelry shops, gold and jade shops, and NZ artisan window displays can be found on most streets. We sit outside at a cafe that serves fancy desserts, and pedal on before the end of the day.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKFkzrisRKT1tpQo7NaIciRzatPCmaQ6Fxo51_umc8IUUdf5YlmqQuLEN6tnb_BrkxQoixBSZzWZz1R99XoCjqOdZJEWnil-biijYGiNQ1Wc5Qpk0Au_tRloYma92TIcCyOw2iipdlTVCf/s1600-h/nz_bike008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKFkzrisRKT1tpQo7NaIciRzatPCmaQ6Fxo51_umc8IUUdf5YlmqQuLEN6tnb_BrkxQoixBSZzWZz1R99XoCjqOdZJEWnil-biijYGiNQ1Wc5Qpk0Au_tRloYma92TIcCyOw2iipdlTVCf/s320/nz_bike008.jpg" /></a></div><br />
We find a glorious campsite south of town, at the convergence of the Kakapotahi ("One Kakapo") and Waitaha Rivers. We camp at the end of the sand bar stretching out into the confluence. Rains in the mountains bring the Waitaha River up significantly on a much appreciated rest day (we get no rain down near the sea). I watch throughout the afternoon as a gravel bar disappears, then is back by the next morning. The Kakapotahi is a lowland river, and does not come up much at all. the Waitaha begins beneath the glaciers of the Southern Alps, and is full of glacial flour sediment and is very cold. The Kakapotahi is much clearer and not so cold - I bathe there.<br />
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In the evening we get a visit from Mark, who lives nearby. He invites us to stop past for breakfast before we head further south. He shares the most delicious honey with us, his own, and I have not recovered from the addiction to this day.Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-27357638584484053032009-11-02T15:11:00.004-05:002010-06-23T10:33:51.628-04:00Blackberries Please (NZ part 9)<span style="font-size: small;">(NZ part 1 </span><a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html"><span style="font-size: small;">here</span></a><span style="font-size: small;">)</span><br />
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We spent only a little time at Lake Rotoroa, as beautiful as it is. We are getting into a groove and packing the gear and getting on the road seems to be what comes easiest to me these days. We start the day with a back road ride from Lake Rotoroa to Murchison - the Braeburn Road. It begins with a really tough uphill with very poor traction, but that is short and we quickly top out and head down into the watershed that leads into Murchison. The downhill is fast, but very demanding. It is bumpy, the traction has not improved much from the climb, and we cross the medium size stream four or more times. My arms and brain are tired by the time we reach the end of the downhill, but I have managed to avoid mishaps.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlZ_D-7fJT6RxF6caaHegAA0OxwIqvNa-AN1066Ja3diOMHYoQDdEYqBERc4I_JEUwQ7O9zSw71VQiWu1QU5Nb5KA0EoThBV-pjNQDi8zI7SCs_qKJGh2Wks1VlDoxWSmOLQ8p93foO07i/s1600/nz_braeburn_rd_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlZ_D-7fJT6RxF6caaHegAA0OxwIqvNa-AN1066Ja3diOMHYoQDdEYqBERc4I_JEUwQ7O9zSw71VQiWu1QU5Nb5KA0EoThBV-pjNQDi8zI7SCs_qKJGh2Wks1VlDoxWSmOLQ8p93foO07i/s320/nz_braeburn_rd_001.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(Braeburn Road - Photo Dan Cantrell)</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div>The road reminds me a great deal of a Vermont woods road, with it's trees forming a canopy over the road. As we pop out of into the open valley at the bottom we ride through a sheep farm I image could be one in Vermont a hundred years ago. Sometimes the landscape seems so managed here, but at other times I feel more remote than I ever have because the whole of the landscape is so rural.<br />
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We slowly ride down the dirt road, talking and stopping at the most prolific blackberry patches I have ever seen. The bushes practically line the road, so our progress is relaxed. We make camp on a sandy bank of the Buller River. I again try for the rising fish and they again take note that I am not a Kiwi and do not bite.Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-32616323189494658192009-11-02T14:41:00.004-05:002010-06-23T10:33:39.852-04:00Back into the Back (NZ part 8)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(NZ part 1 </span><a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">here</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">)</span><br />
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We decided to ride inland up the Motueka valley from the coast in order to get off the beaten track again, and we are feeling like we have made a great decision. Our overall goal is to head toward the west coast, passing the Nelson Lakes area on the way. We could have taken the asphalt Highway 6 out of Nelson, but we settled on this road, which backs up to one of the larger tracks of wild country on this part of the island.<br />
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Our campsite was on the main road between Motueka and Tapawera, but we have now slipped off onto a side road that is dirt for most of the way, and goes through the towns of Kiwi and Kaka (both NZ birds?). As we ride further, our surroundings get better and better. To our west are the Marino Mountains, the Matiri, Radiant, Scarlet, and Lookout Ranges, the Wangapeka Track, and Kahurangi National Park, to the northwest, the Tasman Mountains, the Domett, Marshall, Arthur, and Snowden Ranges, and the coveted Heaphy Track.<br />
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At first we ride in farm country, then we begin our climb, and the farms get smaller and the landscape more mixed, with pastures surrounded by woods. It reminds me of Vermont in many places. The forests here look less managed here than they have in other places we've ridden through. We ride along a small creek that has carved a small gorge, then the ride stars to really wind upward with more intent and the trees closed in around us - we may be leaving the watershed. We reach the crest after much switch-backing and enjoy a long gentle descent into the Hope River valley and back to Highway 6.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd2cilSj7TIFHfLq3vKY_z4bH1yEAQlwQoR26uvazwfmfakxBK5j51FVwlhyphenhyphen9GuR626LxZeTdJR_cawNsZA7-YfF15RO8oQRzbZm7UU4ixSyHhDgKIiRRNYqe1kz-bQB-vg7EL2b1oX89u/s1600-h/nz_bike006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd2cilSj7TIFHfLq3vKY_z4bH1yEAQlwQoR26uvazwfmfakxBK5j51FVwlhyphenhyphen9GuR626LxZeTdJR_cawNsZA7-YfF15RO8oQRzbZm7UU4ixSyHhDgKIiRRNYqe1kz-bQB-vg7EL2b1oX89u/s320/nz_bike006.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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We ride on from Glenhope to the turn to Lake Rotoroa, then up to the Lake and find a campsite just as the rain comes. I climb into the tent as Dan takes on dinner duties.Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-44390325404252873342009-11-02T14:00:00.007-05:002010-06-23T10:33:29.332-04:00Hitting Stride (NZ part 7)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">(NZ part 1 </span><a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html"><span style="font-size: small;">here</span></a><span style="font-size: small;">)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I sit on the banks of the Motueka River, maybe 30 km up stream from the town of the same name. We arrived here the night before, after a relatively easy ride up the lowest portion of the watershed. The food bins are at full capacity from a grocery stop, so we estimate that we could be self-sufficient for about 5 days as long as we can find water. This morning breakfast was biscuits cooked on the camp stove, with boisenberry jam and tea. We have stepped it up at least one notch.</div><br />
The weather is hot, so I have been in the river several times. It's cold, but feels good as it's probably in the mid-20s, and we have had a good deal of only moderately warm weather to date. There are fish in the river which I have had no luck catching.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig83TBB1GvdcgerLLuyM1pYxlgA1D4zj6dcbhExhCqh7AuNoGBvs-dZpJHHh98B5PzlD_26y6LUL87AWCZ4BOISmKOZgp-rc-xnKT7meG9hZUnqpVAfrVQBmS1mRK2ovuxNs-R5zNP5-_O/s1600/nz_abel_tasman_002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig83TBB1GvdcgerLLuyM1pYxlgA1D4zj6dcbhExhCqh7AuNoGBvs-dZpJHHh98B5PzlD_26y6LUL87AWCZ4BOISmKOZgp-rc-xnKT7meG9hZUnqpVAfrVQBmS1mRK2ovuxNs-R5zNP5-_O/s320/nz_abel_tasman_002.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>(Hiking in Able Tasman)</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Two days ago we went for a good hike along the Coast Trail in Abel Tasman National Park. We made it as far as Watering Cove, which was strikingly beautiful. By the end I was quite sore as I realize I have probably walked less than a few miles since we arrived in New Zealand. Abel Tasman itself was very nice, but also quite touristy, and I hope that we will be able to find spots just as nice where they won't want to charge us to fill up a water bottle.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngG1VSYz-Q_O6ffSYbnZfMlQXi5rVXI8gQA0CC6eqbEzRF52wLI8WPfmQEDsp_Ge2fnMk19lZwi_IuS6h9g0BDVmxFSA6AKm8XZfAvAZ8KfBtlqmIhx3d6xxnjo6-n3mfPDdVnbJQ5R6g/s1600/nz_torrent_bay_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngG1VSYz-Q_O6ffSYbnZfMlQXi5rVXI8gQA0CC6eqbEzRF52wLI8WPfmQEDsp_Ge2fnMk19lZwi_IuS6h9g0BDVmxFSA6AKm8XZfAvAZ8KfBtlqmIhx3d6xxnjo6-n3mfPDdVnbJQ5R6g/s320/nz_torrent_bay_001.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">(Watering Cove - Abel Tasman National Park)</span></i></div><br />
It is starting to feel really good to get on the bike and ride now. I look forward to the quite time to sometimes think and other times just pedal. The pain has dropped significantly, but I have also realized it is just another one of life's oscillations - you decide how far up the the crest you can ride before slipping back down into another comfortable trough. So far every hill I have chosen to climb has led to a glorious downhill, whether on this bike, on skis, or in a boat slipping out onto a wave. I realize my limitations are almost fully self imposed.Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-56509986595487920562009-10-30T13:08:00.005-04:002010-06-23T10:33:18.695-04:00The Odd Nut (NZ part 6)<span style="font-size: small;">(NZ part 1 </span><a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html"><span style="font-size: small;">here</span></a><span style="font-size: small;">)</span><br />
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Having worked out a few of the kinks in our touring set-up, I am now feeling a bit better on the bike. Most noticeable is the weight I have managed to cut from the trailer - I had a collection of far too many books that I was planning on reading along the way, so I sent a handful of them home. Together Dan and I decided on which books to keep, so we would each have to carry fewer books, but would have access to others that we might want to read along the way. We also figured we would be able to pick up books at Backpackers or book shops along the way when we hit decent sized towns. I kept the Lonely Planet guide with me, along with a small collection of pleasure reading.<br />
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(<i>As a side note, the books Dan and I had read and shared by the end of the trip included:<br />
Blue Highways - William Least Heat-Moon<br />
The Practice of the Wild - Gary Snyder<br />
Riprap and Cold Mountain Poems - GS<br />
The Book on the Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are - Alan Watts<br />
Endurance - Alfred Lansing<br />
Touching the Void - Joe Simpson (way before the movie)<br />
The Return of the King (while they were filming the movie in NZ by chance)<br />
Angle of Repose - Wallace Stegner<br />
Lonely Planet Guide to New Zealand</i>)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpCJoV7O-REewQuQ96czXa3CxhthMofPRxusNiXwCmKEZiggYghjW9Bu7wIjgbGqazmU94rjIqnDDo5NTOGYPPFeUzYwXog6aUjGOnBReodgR13LX8bbV_1OJgah8WwvgaNXnQpaKam4Rw/s1600-h/nz_bike005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpCJoV7O-REewQuQ96czXa3CxhthMofPRxusNiXwCmKEZiggYghjW9Bu7wIjgbGqazmU94rjIqnDDo5NTOGYPPFeUzYwXog6aUjGOnBReodgR13LX8bbV_1OJgah8WwvgaNXnQpaKam4Rw/s320/nz_bike005.jpg" /></a></div><br />
The new food bins on the trailers are working beautifully at this point to. We've been able to stock up on decent groceries in Blenhiem and pedal without worry much about where we will stop to camp for the night. We take a somewhat inland route toward Nelson, and get to relax a bit with lush scenery and only moderate traffic. As we approach Nelson, the road begins to drop back down to the water, and we revel in the views of Tazman Bay and the twisty asphalt. Just outside of Nelson, we find a campground, and decide all the amenities sound alright. We pedal around the loop, checking out sites and the various rigs people have set up. It seems Kiwis take there camping quite seriously.<br />
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We find a site and start to unpack, the tents go up, and we have a meal in the works quickly. As we are finishing our meal, we are greeted by a friendly, although a little scruffy looking chap who rides up on a bike. He sits with us for a while, chatting about all sorts of things, asking all about our bike setups, admiring the disk brakes on Dan's Cannondale and the fairly new tents we have. It sounds as if he has been essentially squatting at this campground for quite some time, and has been asked to pay up or hit the road by the management on a number of occasions, but it's not bothering him much. We share some chocolate with him, and he quickly rushes off, then returns with a large box of chocolates that he offers us samples from. He really is quite nice, but he is seeming to be a bit off. Once again he rushes off, this time to return with a large joint that he believes we have requested somehow. He is a bit put off when we politely decline his offering, and wanders off back toward his campsite grumbling a bit. We decide that we have indeed encountered the Odd Nut the travelers had referred to back in Molesworth.Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-56057802710561620982009-10-29T14:52:00.004-04:002010-06-23T10:33:07.520-04:00Getting Sorted (NZ part 5)<span style="font-size: small;">(NZ part 1 </span><a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html"><span style="font-size: small;">here</span></a><span style="font-size: small;">)</span><br />
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Early the next morning, probably while we were eating our bland oatmeal, Matt passed our cabin (the rack on the back of his bike had broken the night before on one of the downhills, and he had been forced to camp there on the side of the road). We get word from a road crew worker while we wait for a one lane bridge. He tells us Matt will be in Blenhiem, where we are headed, but we don't think we will make it there by the time he mentioned to the worker. We head on anyway, as we figure we will be able to get some spare parts in Blenhiem, work on the bikes a bit, and possibly reduce the loads in the trailers.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIYtBcSH0P9hbF8LiYKqeWeXKPtRTZFFWNZyRrWSKsjkEnYgEIRGtWSxJOM2xSP-t0wpX2I42A3vyvsrSOCsGLiwGWuJM0RngyB2oYzrw6KRFyOjgfNE3SqaqZpteA-UvDvkQYAOczX9Jg/s1600-h/nz_bike004.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398101929807514562" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIYtBcSH0P9hbF8LiYKqeWeXKPtRTZFFWNZyRrWSKsjkEnYgEIRGtWSxJOM2xSP-t0wpX2I42A3vyvsrSOCsGLiwGWuJM0RngyB2oYzrw6KRFyOjgfNE3SqaqZpteA-UvDvkQYAOczX9Jg/s400/nz_bike004.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 290px;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-style: italic;">(The route marked on this section may not be right - we may have taken the route over Taylor Pass into Blenhiem)</span><br />
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We make it to Blenhiem, a medium sized town on the North/South route between Christchurch and the main ferry stop, Picton, without too much trouble, and I manage to find a replacement derailer mount for my borrowed bike at a outdoor shop. Dan finds a new Macpac sleeping bag that he will replace his summer weight bag with as it is really still spring here, and we expect to get up into the mountains again before too long. We spend the afternoon sifting through our gear and collect a pile of things to ship off along with Dan's sleeping bag - spare clothing, too many books, etc. - anything to help drop some of the 70 lbs from each of the trailers.<br />
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We also spend several hours trying to get the food storage system sorted. So far we have been simply taking our bag of groceries and slipping it into the larger BOB bag with all of our other gear. There seems to be several problems with this approach though. First of all, it is not particularly well organized in there - it is just one large duffel with all gear crammed into it. This makes us more inclined to just get basic, uninteresting food that we can pack without worrying. Second, the weight ends up higher than it needs to be with the duffel just getting taller and taller as we add food. And we just can't keep the Possums from trying to rip into the nylon duffels if they smell something good in there. We develop the food pods with supplies from a hardware store - plastic bins with tops that fit neatly on either side of the trailer wheel, a plastic cutting board shaped to act as platform for the bin, tons of zip-ties to hold the cutting board platforms to the trailer frame, some webbing straps with buckles to lash the tops on to the bins and keep the critters out, and finally, a few small pieces of foam egg crate to sit in the bottom of the bins and preserve our most fragile culinary cargo - tomatoes, avocados, kiwis, eggs. This would be the beginning of less bland meals on the road.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiZuP7H7b0_VrrbwehQfS_ZLp3rlXWZFgl7nxFEn29iL7zyIdfZHtTZwXVpe4X_BvS46jai5EPFZXW7YffDzfa2AMoUA380dX9qkl245owO6smB3diTIFBYvurDRc-nMO4S5AhDhvSGJfw/s1600/nz_abel_tasman_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiZuP7H7b0_VrrbwehQfS_ZLp3rlXWZFgl7nxFEn29iL7zyIdfZHtTZwXVpe4X_BvS46jai5EPFZXW7YffDzfa2AMoUA380dX9qkl245owO6smB3diTIFBYvurDRc-nMO4S5AhDhvSGJfw/s320/nz_abel_tasman_001.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(Relaxing at our next site with food storage sorted - Photo Dan Cantrell)</span></i></div>Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-60716979544856002672009-10-29T13:01:00.003-04:002010-06-23T10:32:56.008-04:00Molesworth (NZ part 4)(NZ part 1 <a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html">here</a>)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglLDsBoT2UtFofXz4f_Uzx_mAWoojDo3vxfIjFyTBZQYdGbKsjCC5YmV3fZwVcnyO1PA4gdTYZuo-BVY0Wps7Fy2AYp4CZZKhhhft7Bvf51ZjwvA0YiyWAqcvyNjiwFXBm3GJBCQT9yrLG/s1600-h/nz_bike003.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398083143478850370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglLDsBoT2UtFofXz4f_Uzx_mAWoojDo3vxfIjFyTBZQYdGbKsjCC5YmV3fZwVcnyO1PA4gdTYZuo-BVY0Wps7Fy2AYp4CZZKhhhft7Bvf51ZjwvA0YiyWAqcvyNjiwFXBm3GJBCQT9yrLG/s400/nz_bike003.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 290px;" /></a><br />
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We spend the night camped near the historic cob buildings built early on in the conversion of the area into agriculture. The previous day we had met a Kiwi named Matt, who is on a break from conservation work and riding a bike through Molesworth on a slightly different route than us. So we have his company at the campsite, and spend a good part of the evening talking, listening to music (Dan has his Backpacker guitar), and envying Matt's back country cooking skills. When not out on riding adventures, Matt works to maintain the population of one of the native parrots, the flightless <a href="http://www.kakapo.net/en/">Kakapo</a>. New Zealand's birds evolved in a unique environment - one with no native land mammals - and since the arrival of Europeans here, introduced predator populations have exploded and severely impact the native species, possibly the Kakapo the most. Matt works with a group relocated to a small island in the hopes of protecting their ground nests from the introduced predators on main land New Zealand.<br />
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In the morning I get to work on the bike, trying to make sure that everything will hold together for another day of rough riding and hopefully until we reach a town with supplies. I patch the damaged trailer tube from the day before and hope that I won't need to try to put it back on. And we examine the derailer mount for a while - it currently affords me a few gears, but if I snap it while trying to fix it, I'll have none - before deciding to try to bend it back to shape. We manage to get it close enough to original that I can get into all gears with a little encouragement. Success! We hit the road perhaps an hour behind our new friend Matt, not sure how far the various repairs will last. I feel like a bit of a rag-tag riding partner, but Dan doesn't seem to be bothered by the adversities.<br />
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We make good time as we gradually begin to drop out of the highest part of our route. Again we ride valleys to passes, to long downhills, to valleys again, but the downhills are longer than the climbs, and we are following the valleys more. We stop to look at a map on one of the passes and a Land Cruiser with a Kiwi family from the North Island pulls up for a chat. The are all very friendly and curious about our trip. They figure we good get good wet headed down the West Coast (annual rainfall 27M, yes meters, in some areas - that's almost 90 feet!). But overall they think New Zealand is a pretty good, safe place to travel. "Meet a lot of good people aside from the odd nut." This puts me in high spirits.<br />
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Shortly after that stop we have dropped enough elevation to slip out from under the clouds and rain. I ride up another pass on my own (Dan will always be in better shape than me, I'm convinced) and look out over an incredible gorge to the East, that of the Awatere River I believe. The downhill is a reward as it keeps going and going and the sun gets stronger and stronger. We start to see houses along the side of the road again, and we talk about all the kinds of foods we'd be in mood for. Matt's dinner the night before had put us to shame, and left us with the thought that we had better figure out a way to carry good food.<br />
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As luck would have it, we come to what is referred to as Camden on our maps, although I see only one house. It is marked as a Backpacker (hostel), so we hope they might have candy bars or something of the sort. But the owner, Shelly, insists we check out what she has prepared for lunch and we can not say no - homemade Lasagna served as 6 inch by 6 inch slabs, with a fresh from her garden salad on the side, followed by home made chocolate chip ice cream with fresh raspberries, meringue and whipped cream. After we eat we lay on the grass in the sun outside Shelly's little cottage. We talk of staying right where we are, but realize it would likely leave us broke, fat, and with little ambition to do anything but stay on as lawn boys in Camden.<br />
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With a full tank, we make it another 30 km, down an incredible stretch of paved down hill, really letting it do, to another Backpacker. Jackie sets us up with some mutton steaks, bread, salad, and fruit to fix for dinner, and shows us a small white cottage on that is ours for the evening. She occasionally hosts guests on their huge sheep farm, looking North over the broad Awatere valley, with another one of it's gorges of to our East, cut through gravel deposits here. It has been a great fuel day for us, but also one of the longest days of the trip so far with a broken bike. We feel good and sleep well. (~80 km)Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-16335506080206926132009-10-27T14:31:00.007-04:002010-06-23T10:32:44.759-04:00Hanmer Springs and off track (NZ part 3)<span style="font-size: small;">(NZ part 1 </span><a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html"><span style="font-size: small;">here</span></a><span style="font-size: small;">)</span><br />
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In the morning we eat, pack, and get back on the road. Over the course of the day, the weather deteriorates until it is raining hard. I just accept that I will be wet for the day and pedal on. Our route takes us through more rolling land, with the interior mountains appearing out of the clouds from time to time, closer as the day progresses. We climb more as we get closer to the mountains, and pass through two major river gorges. At the top of the second, we ride over a single lane bridge several hundred feet above the water. Just upstream of the gorge is a remnant rock, standing alone in the center of the river, and upstream of it the river is calm and wanders across a large plain between us and the interior mountains.<br />
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We ride down into the plain through more driving rain. Although I don't really mind being wet, it is starting to get cold. A short ride takes us into the town of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hanmer_Springs">Hanmer Springs</a>, and some relief. We ride directly to the sulfur hot springs - fairly developed public pools, clean and white paint everywhere, but not overdone. I soak in the 40 degree plus heat of the various pools, and quietly celebrate as the sun leaps out and the clouds slip off the mountains to our west and head out over the valley.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZh3x6n8miCXtKJSrQ3mpV79TdePmV_2ZTsL3U0UTdZ-wbLNJlUX9WQdFdKpbF5cKFGwomq1fWltZn0M09Idp-kmTIR7GCwesncWcg9QD_RKBjOEoHGvH-pehDVX4bJ2ugFt2hkAz75Ug3/s1600-h/nz_bike002.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397355490992370098" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZh3x6n8miCXtKJSrQ3mpV79TdePmV_2ZTsL3U0UTdZ-wbLNJlUX9WQdFdKpbF5cKFGwomq1fWltZn0M09Idp-kmTIR7GCwesncWcg9QD_RKBjOEoHGvH-pehDVX4bJ2ugFt2hkAz75Ug3/s400/nz_bike002.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 290px;" /></a><br />
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Hanmer Springs has an official campground, that we opt for - bathrooms, a level pitch spot, and clothes lines all sound nice before we head off into the back country. We are unsure how remote the road through <a href="http://www.doc.govt.nz/upload/documents/parks-and-recreation/places-to-visit/nelson-marlborough/molesworth-map-2007.pdf">Molesworth Station</a> will be, but we've been told there is really very little for a couple of days. So far, our trailers have worked well. Our packing has improved and I can feel the bike handle better with the load as low as possible in the trailer. But Molesworth will be our first really rough terrain test. And we have been fairly free from food raiders until now, although we have already seen numerous <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Common_Brushtail_Possum_(New_Zealand)">Possum</a> fatalities along the road.<br />
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We awoke to another tough weather day with a really tough start - the climb up out of Hanmer Springs, over Jollie's Pass, and into the Acheron Valley - to get into Molesworth Station. I ride granny gear for what seems like an eternity, with an anchor of a trailer pulling me back down the valley before finally reaching the end of the climb and a well deserved rest. Dan is already at the top, enjoying the view back down into the valley, and the more rugged peaks of the Boddington Range around us here on the Molesworth road. The road conditions aren't horrible, and I'm somewhat relieved that we aren't going completely off track so early in our acclimation to New Zealand.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQO0Q6cbzVeJ4hlvU_MXmkIj7zFrmtAQDQlcTy9-RA2zaPA7ioAEmlwhHjzjwow0-WBp_DkBZLaM6RiS7mwQ9Xsr7SRk_24ZNHIILVzByAhYq4GVJGSQ2dN6yuGh7ZcsFzH2XD9EgGHizP/s1600/nz_molesworth_pano.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQO0Q6cbzVeJ4hlvU_MXmkIj7zFrmtAQDQlcTy9-RA2zaPA7ioAEmlwhHjzjwow0-WBp_DkBZLaM6RiS7mwQ9Xsr7SRk_24ZNHIILVzByAhYq4GVJGSQ2dN6yuGh7ZcsFzH2XD9EgGHizP/s400/nz_molesworth_pano.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(Molesworth hills)</span></i></div><br />
Again we ride in the valleys, with large peaks on either side. The scenery and the rhythm of the ride lulls me. I daydream of what it looked like here before it came one of the largest farms in the country, and what it might look like in a hundred years from now. As we reach the headwaters of the rivers, we climb abruptly over passes, then coast down and back into long valleys. Isolated Pass, Isolated Flats. Before the pass I stop to change my drenched shirt - I realize I am spending more energy trying to dry the shirt with body heat than I am pedaling the bike. As I change, one of the few 4WDs I've seen stops, it seems just to inform me that I have quite a hill up ahead. Thanks.<br />
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I pedal onward, having to push the pike and trailer up a few sections that are too steep and loose to keep my momentum and traction. Finally I clear the up hill and crest the pass. I put on my raincoat and prepare for the downhill. Almost at the bottom I try to pedal again and realize I am going faster than my gearing. Around a corner and into the softer gravel in the center of the road. The trailer tire goes flat and I'm going to go in the ditch. Still at speed I try to steer back onto the road and the front tire slides out and I go for a tumble. I escape the ordeal with only a small tear in the raincoat, but the second trailer tire flat of the day means I've got no spare tubes so I'll have to do a patch, and the rear derailer mount has bent, so I've go only a few gears until I can get a chance to fiddle with things.<br />
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I get back on the bike and start to creep towards Molesworth. Then the rain stops, the sun comes out, and small songbirds start to flit all around the sides of the road, singing for the sun. Dan has a hot drink waiting when I hobble into the small cluster of historic buildings called Molesworth.Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8674323389551559837.post-50527150389797194442009-10-22T14:08:00.011-04:002010-06-23T10:32:34.428-04:00Riding Day 1 & 2 in New Zealand! (NZ part 2)<span style="font-size: small;">(NZ part 1 </span><a href="http://2wheeltravels.blogspot.com/2009/08/nz-1-getting-ready.html"><span style="font-size: small;">here</span></a><span style="font-size: small;">)</span><br />
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It has been quite a long time since we set out from Christchurch on our adventure, but I can still remember the excitement I was filled with riding away from our hosts' house that first day. To me, being self-sufficient to that level is the ultimate thrill. Being far away from civilization is great, but traveling pared down for a long period of time, even if you are not in the wilderness, is invigorating in it's own way. (Of course, I quickly would realize that I could have pared down even more!)<br />
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As we started to pedal, we faced our first decision, "so Dan, what do you think - left, or right?" We felt like taking a left, so that was the decision that set in motion the next 3 months of our lives - pedaling our bikes counter-clockwise around the South Island of New Zealand.<br />
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We had picked up a set of <span style="font-style: italic;">AA</span> maps (like AAA in the US), so using these we took our left and headed north toward the town of Kaiapoi on Route 1. This is the main north/south road in the area, and as a result was pretty busy. In general, the South Island did not seem particularly busy, but on heavily loaded bikes and with little to no extra roadway for bikes, we quickly tired of Route 1. We settled for just getting ourselves out of the main hub of Christchurch, and found a nice, quiet place to camp on the beach in Waikuku, looking out over Pegasus Bay and the Pacific Ocean. All the traveling had tired me out, but there was such an adventure ahead, I found it hard to sleep that first night. <span style="font-style: italic;">(total distance - maybe 25km?)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5WidAUjBlaJKs1X0jGRhEuzyqk69OkAeZZ8Y6DsaqMiov7njMnLlRqC49xPD0x4NQg5tsoFiL_RbtRIe33cXKoJ5m36x389Yq_vBgiE3yowFdFMUGDer5bWEm3-Vf7j7F1s0H3RCHHGCd/s1600-h/nz_bike001.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395491767461061698" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5WidAUjBlaJKs1X0jGRhEuzyqk69OkAeZZ8Y6DsaqMiov7njMnLlRqC49xPD0x4NQg5tsoFiL_RbtRIe33cXKoJ5m36x389Yq_vBgiE3yowFdFMUGDer5bWEm3-Vf7j7F1s0H3RCHHGCd/s400/nz_bike001.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 305px;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">(Our trip route is highlighted on these maps, and if you click for the larger view you may be able to see a small </span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size: small;">X</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"> where we found camping each night.)</span><br />
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By the next day we had decided that we should get ourselves off of Route 1 as quickly as possible, and start to explore the back country of this amazing place. We had planned on heading up the east coast, staying close to the ocean and trying to take in some of the wildlife. We scrapped our plans to make Kaikora (I really wanted to try the swimming with wild dolphins there) when we came across a reference to a high country station (some types of farms are called stations in NZ) that had a jeep road through it. (Being from Vermont, we have a hard time passing up on anything that sounds kind of rugged and off the beaten path.)<br />
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We rode further up Route 1, almost to the town of Waipara, where we were able to turn left towards the interior mountains on Route 7. (I'm sure there were jokes about Rut-vegas thrown around at that point.) With the reduction in traffic, I started to relax and take in the rolling rural landscape, quite dry in this part of the island. The brown undulating hills created a quiet, sensuous atmosphere that slowly slipped past as I pedaled. The bike felt heavy and slow, and I felt challenged to keep up a decent pace. It was certainly amplified by the fact that my riding partner Dan is truly a top notch athlete. This is a guy who was practically raised on X-C skis and won numerous Junior Olympics when we were in high school. So even if I had been in good riding shape, Dan would have been riding faster than me. But I wasn't. So I enjoyed the scenery as Dan pulled further and further away from me.<br />
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Toward the end of a long real day of riding (actually trying to make some distance) we set our sights on Balmoral Forest, where we thought we might be able to set up camp. At the crest of a hill, I found Dan waiting for me to catch up. We out over the Huruni River valley and quickly decided this would be the spot to camp. Day two of real riding complete. <span style="font-style: italic;">(distance ~50km)</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkp0ujpNvQpGJTL2dqpDKCxPzSYrryGuiDXTXNgo40rNdDywrnXeUEmQGX7sU8I3GlXhtkol4uGPehkvfGXpuT5Mco_bdegoXGU6At5myF4_YiTp7v6GSe_-X7823wukOovXL5fSgO1Wtl/s1600/nz_huruni_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkp0ujpNvQpGJTL2dqpDKCxPzSYrryGuiDXTXNgo40rNdDywrnXeUEmQGX7sU8I3GlXhtkol4uGPehkvfGXpuT5Mco_bdegoXGU6At5myF4_YiTp7v6GSe_-X7823wukOovXL5fSgO1Wtl/s320/nz_huruni_001.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">(camp on the Huruni - Photo Dan Cantrell)</span></i></div>Matt Kiedaischhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03457638050898804840noreply@blogger.com0