And Back Again (NZ part 26)

(NZ part one here)

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.

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. 

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.

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.

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.

To Mt. Cook (NZ part 24)

(NZ part one here)

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

The morning starts out chilly, but who can complain when you wake up here?

(Camping near Mt. Cook - Photo Dan Cantrell)

Dunedin (NZ part 21)

(NZ part one here)

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.

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.

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.

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 Laura Thomas, one amazingly talented individual. Check out her music - she kicks so much ass it's almost ridiculous!

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.

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.

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.

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.