Pete has very kindly agreed to drop me up to the Denniston Plateau for a head start on the Denniston short cut. We leave in the dark and drizzle just after 7am and drive through a Westport that is sending the next shift up to Stockton.
The road climbs steadily and steeply up the ridge away from Waimangaroa, with the coastal plain opening grey and wet in the gloom below. The odd coal truck rumbles down the hill.
We don't pause at the top but the various relics of old settlements are scattered along the route. The landscape is shrouded in clag and it doesn't take much imagination to picture a fairly bleak existence up here. The road branches and winds getting rougher and we're pretty pleased to be in the Hilux. Eventually we get to what must be pretty close to the top, the drizzle has let up so I shake hands with Pete and pedal off into the clag as he executes a u turn.
Two electricity utes come in the opposite direction as I start down a steep descent. At the bottom there's a bit of straight and I'm feeling uneasy about the direction of travel when a section of road clicks and I realise we came up this way. Sure enough a minute later Pete drives around the corner; "How the hell did you get here!" You can only laugh. The bike goes back in the tray and Pete performs another u turn.
The road executes a long loop and in the clag the power lines can't be seen to give a bearing. There are a number of turn offs that could be possible routes off the top. We end up checking a couple of duds including one that follows a new line a long way down. As a pylon service road there are regular side roads to each structure. Most are clearly minor but when you can't see the wires it isn't always obvious.
Eventually we have the right one (it is marked with a loose rock cairn that you pass on your left) but Pete's not about to let his guest head off into the mist down the precipitous track so keeps going saying he'd better check out the ford at the Mackley River (officially: "Orikaka or Mackley River"). The track drops and winds and drops. It takes longer than either of us expected and is fairly steep in places with a few stiff climbs out of Stevenson and Mt Williams stream gullies.
The service utes are still in front of us somewhere so we know the route is passable (or that we will have company if not).
Eventually we drop to the river, it's sizeable with a bouldery approach but a good drivable line. The exit is via the mouth of Blue Duck Creek and looks undrivable. However we see the other utes have got through so we chuck some rocks in appropriate places then Pete launches his pride and joy at what amounts to a wet boulder pile. The Hilux bucks and bounces over the bank into the stream and attacks the steep exit. Pete's head is rocketing around inside like a blonde pinball but it carries through.
There's no way we're about to go back through all that so there had better not be any locked gates.
It's still a fair old way out and the service ute tracks we are following have turned up all the side tracks so there are a few intersections we have to check. However, after the climb from the river the track is smoother and less steep. There's old coal mine workings and eventually farm land at New Creek and a sealed road that takes us to the iron bridge over the Buller River.
At 11.30 I once again shake hands and say good bye to Pete feeling guilty about what we've put his truck through. We're both a bit sheepish about the morning's navigation but it was a pretty good adventure. He and Wendy get many visitors from off the Coast who are all treated to their generous hospitably so I'm also conscious I have taken up a day and a half of his time without the courtesy of a pre-warning.
The drizzle has cleared as I head up the gorge while Pete turns for a long but somewhat smoother trip back down the road to Westport, Cass and his Wekas.
Having time and supplies to get a bit lost for awhile, I was relaxed about the shortcut but there are a few lessons. Some of the written descriptions of the route are not easy to relate back to the landscape you see so I recommend taking the 1:50,000 map(s). The road is steep up and down and winds around the craggy ridges so it's very hard to keep a bearing in clag if you can't see the wires.
The trip up the gorge is straight forward. 2-3 K after the Iron Bridge is Lyell and the start of the Old Ghost Road then it is through the Upper Buller Gorge, past the fault scarp at White Creek, past the intersection with SH 65 and on to Four Rivers Plain (I assume these are the Buller, the Matakitaki from the south, the Matiri from the north and the Mangles from the south-east. The Rain has been through but the cloud is broken and there's occasional glimpses of sun. The tearooms in Murchison supply lunch again before the long stretch beneath the Blue Cliffs Ridge to Owen River.
There is no sun in the afternoon as I pass the Owens Junction pub, the Road beside the Gowan River to Lake Rotoroa and Kawatiri junction with the remnants of a failed railway link to Nelson. Last time I came through (1989) the pub was an obligatory stop for a beer and I ended up sleeping the night in the disused railway tunnel (nothing to do with the beer).
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| Kawatiri Junction; left to St Arnaud, right to Murchison |
North from Kawatiri Junction is the long road over the Hope and Spooner Saddles to Nelson but today it's 25k to St Arnaud and maybe 20K further to the DoC camp site at Kowhai Point.
It's about 4.30 and starting to get dim as I ride into St Arnaud so I'm happy to call it quits. At the petrol station/store I have just discovered that the Takeaway wont be open today when a voice from behind asks; "Where've you come from today mate?" I turn and we recognise each other. Ashley is an erstwhile work colleague, a mad keen cyclist and an all round good bloke. He casts an expert eye over my set up, makes the right comments and enquires about my route in detail. He's coming up to the Lodge restaurant later so promises to shout me a beer.
I have a dorm room to myself again. After watching the pink light drain away west from the (now) sparse snow on the ranges there's time for a shower and to set sweaty gear to dry, all much better done in a room than a tent.
My blue cod and chips is generous and tasty, and with a glass of Neudorf Chardonnay cycling catering doesn't get much better than this. Ashley pops over for a chat, as does mine host and before long it's time to turn in. I'm intending to head for Picton tomorrow and although there's no hills it could be a bit of an effort.
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