Length of the South - Technical Stuff

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I wrote notes on gear at the end of the blog for the Southern Brevet, I’ll try to cross reference rather than repeat.

The bike

Same. Had it checked over by a mechanic before leaving but a few niggles developed …

Front and rear tyres delaminated, these were the same set as on the Southern Brevet - I've used them on all surfaces but they're not so great on soft ground which was definitely not a problem this time, they don’t seem to get punctures whatever you chuck at them). There were some gashes in the tread before I started but they seemed to be holding up so I started on them but threw a couple of spare knobblies in the car. Day 5 was too much for them and the gashes started to hold hands with large sections of Kevlar showing through. I was amazed at how the canvas stood up to the punishment but it made steering a little exciting on the down hills.

Shocks – during the Southern Brevet these had collapsed but had held out with judicious use of a shock pump. I had a mechanic check them out and he thought they were fine. They lasted until day 5 then did the same thing. Came right over night but intermittently went down over the rest of the trip, usually just lifting the bars they would reflate until the last day when that wouldn't last long at all.

Gears – in the weeks before leaving I serially replaced most drive components, cables and covers apart from front rings and rear derailleur. By the end of the trip there was a fair amount of nursing required, with the back derailleur probably a bit twisted from rocks on the Nydia and sounds of wear in the rear cable housings.

Brakes – replaced pads before start. Front held out fine, rear somewhat worn at end and rubbing a bit.

Water cages – same issues; still after bigger bottles and better mounts.

If you want to avoid carrying weight on your back you have to be creative to get enough water on board without compromising centre of gravity, rider movement and luggage capacity. I haven’t got it right yet but have: 2 x 750 ml on the forks, 1 x 750 ml under the frame and this time a 3L pouch in the frame bag. Two elastic hair ties looped over the nipple seem to have stopped the bottles popping out.

Fork mountings keep the weight low and they don’t seem to get smashed into obstacles. But the weight of the water flexes the cage and stresses the mounts. The lightweight Specialized cage on the front fork that survived the Brevet broke at the welds so I rotated them from the rear of the fork to the front so the weight comes onto the fork rather than the front of the cage – this makes the bottle harder to reach whilst riding but I use these bottles to recharge the frame bag so this isn't a problem. I found a second hand alloy cage in Lawrence which was more solid but lost it when my mounting failed on a fairly high energy descent from Omarama saddle the next day. The new Specialized cage on the other fork survived but I expect it to break so will replace it before I lose another bottle.

Luggage

Same but dropped the bar bag and the back pack.

Clothing

Pretty much the same, but dropped the spare tights and merino gruts and took lighter gloves and spare socks and replaced merino riding top with a sun suitable shirt. Added a cheap Kathmandu Bandanna; a bit warm at times but no sun burnt head and so lovely when you can dunk it in a stream.

I wanted to get the shirt right; the criteria I had in mind: lightweight, long sleeve, high UPF rating (no burning when the shirt was wet), collar that can turn up, pockets with closures, light colour, easy wash and dry.

The one that looked ideal was a pricey fishing shirt from the US firm Sims but fortunately Kathmandu had something that did the trick much cheaper, I think it was called the Kangsar and I’m pretty happy with it. The main disadvantage is that it isn't a shirt for layering, the fabric is icy when wet, so if the weather turns you’d want to take it off and layer up with thermals.

Didn't use the synthetic jacket except as a pillow but will continue to carry it.

Sleeping

Same. Haven’t got a lighter bag yet and probably won’t now. Still on the lookout for an ultra-lite tent or fly but bivvy bag was fine for summer – didn't stick the Exped air inside it this time (doh!).

First aid, emergency and repair

Same plus some big plasters and a PLB instead of a spot tracker – looked into getting one but decided it wasn't a good investment – may reconsider at some point. As it wasn't a Brevet event I chucked various tools in the car and a spare set of tyres.

Other kit

Dropped the micro towel and glasses in case, added chap stick.

Food and water

Carried a little less food – generally enough for a day, or two at a pinch. Dropped the one square meals and bumper bars, had a selection of sweet, sticky muesli bars. But still need to refine the selection and improve nutrition and hydration management during the day.

I’m finding I need real food for longer trips rather than trying to survive on bars and gels. A tin of sardines, some crackers, cheese, a somewhat squashed filled roll or whatever … stopping and eating something real just seems to work better and puts you in a better head space.

I tried ‘Get up and go’ a few times – heavier than I want to carry on the bike but not a bad option when available. Flavoured porridge sachets seem to work OK cold and are good on an unsettled stomach if there’s a way of heating them. I carried packets of pre-cooked rice but didn't use any in the end.

See comments above re bottle cages and water. I got sick of the electrolyte I was carrying but picked up some other types (not the smartest to change part way through). I’m a bit fussy about drinking strongly flavoured water and find that trying to mask it with a drink sachet often doesn't make it any better.

Overall I've decided to sacrifice a bit of weight in order to have better food choices – going for the lightest options in order to save weight aint working for me.

The body

You can expect a bit of battery from these trips, but there was nothing serious or debilitating. The worst was nausea developing after the end of the first day and getting worse for a few days after. This was likely to have been due to a combination of dehydration and fatigue, caused by lack of discipline with food and water intake, less than ideal fitness and the unaccustomed heat. I.e. just being a bit too soft.

A vicious circle developed: nausea makes you fussy; you eat and drink less (particularly if the only thing available is tepid water with a strong taste); you feel worse ... Much of the surface water was from heavily farmed catchments and many streams had dried up so it was often longer between sources than expected.

Lesson: calculate how much water you need allowing for the heat and for lack of top-up sources. This generally means having more carriage capacity than you think you need.

My right knee was a bit bruised from a spill a couple of weeks before the start. This was no problem until day three on the Alps to Ocean – it was OK under sustained pressure but painful when starting to pedal after a pause – the sort of thing you do a lot of on rough down-hills. I had Voltarin but didn't take it as it improved over the next few days.  After that it didn't give any significant trouble despite landing on it again during an end-over on the Wharfdale track then reopening the nick with a pedal on the Nydia. It didn't get infected so all good.

Lesson: don’t fall off.

Lack of training and failure to organise a new seat meant the back-side callouses from sitting at a desk weren't up to the rigours of sustained rough roads. The result was a fair amount of discomfort in the nether regions and a long blister along the fold where leg meets bum. Large size Elastoplast and lashings of chamois cream seemed to sort it out.

Lesson: read your notes from last time and get around to buying a new seat in time to break it in! Take and use plenty of lubricant and react to warning signs early. Carry a few large plasters.

There was no lasting numbness in the fingers unlike on the Brevet (this came right at some point during the year). Some mild toe numbness is persisting a few weeks afterwards but should clear up soon.

A forearm strain from hefting the bike up banks on the Nydia (and being soft) is still niggling. No blisters on feet or other ailments.

Training

Way less than last time. After no riding since the Brevet in January I did a bit of commuting with a few hills thrown in and a couple of long rides before a leisurely round Taupo. After that a longish Wairarapa ride and a ride to Palmy on the road bike.

I was way better prepared for the Brevet and this time suffered longer because of it.

Navigation

Similar to last time, but the trip notes worked even better as I prepared them myself (i.e. it meant I learnt the route better).  After working out the bones of the trip I used Map-my-Ride, topo maps, Kennett books and the internet to flesh out the route and options.

An early decision was to start at Slope Point as the southernmost point, but not to go to Farewell Spit as:

1. the route options to Farewell spit looked tricky, 
2. D’Urville Island was a logical flow on from the Rainbow, Wakamarina and Nydia tracks which I really wanted to do, and 
3. D’Urville Island just seemed more interesting. 

It was a real toss up whether to do the West Coast or not. In the end I wanted to do the Rail Trail, Wharfdale and Rainbow and these just seemed to more logically line up with a centre of the Island route. There are plenty of options to take a really good West Coast line though and this is likely to be the route of the length of NZ Brevet in 2016.

I mapped the ride in fairly arbitrary sections on Map-my-Ride which gave distances which I used to create trip notes covering pretty much every major intersection on the trip. I also printed topo maps for particularly tricky areas. I double checked the notes but a few errors still crept in, although nothing that caused any problems (trouble is I forgot to note where they were!).

During a few sections the distances drifted out of accuracy (e.g. because a track in bush couldn't be measured accurately in Map-my-ride) but this never caused a problem.

I didn't carry a GPS and the altimeter on my watch wasn't working but neither was needed.

I haven’t explored smart phone GPS apps any further due to; lack of confidence, battery life, and cellular coverage issues.

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Length of the South - Day Nine

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Route

Harvey Bay to Cape Stephens on D’urville Island via French Pass

Day 9 Map: Harvey Bay to French Pass
Day 9 Map: D'Urville Island

Distance: 80 (115)    Cumulative: 1,340 (1,375)

It’s a cool grey day as I polish off some cold porridge, quietly pack up and head west towards Archer’s Track about 7km away. All going well this will be the last day of the trip.

There’s a wee climb on the way to Penzance Bay then Archer’s Track: about 8km with a bit of up and down, a few rooty bits and dismounts required, but nothing dramatic. It passes through some nice bush, a secluded wee bay and some not-so-nice recovering forestry land, and ends with a long section of 4WD track, before popping out in someone’s driveway.

The track closes the loop between two arterial roads into the Sounds so is a kind of cool link for bikers, as it is unquestionably a massive shortcut. Penzance Bay is accessed via Opouri Road and Elaine Bay via Okiwi and the French Pass Road.

You've got to be envious of this!
One of the prettier sections of Archer’s track.

Bach in the bush. Somewhere around Deep Bay on Archer's track.

Near the end of Archer’s track. Elaine Bay at left, French Pass Road along ridge on skyline, Mt Shewell (775m) at back, Tawhitinui Island, Archer’s track runs above the shore to the right.

At 0915 hrs people in Elaine Bay are getting on with their days. I don’t see any shops so head on, and start the climb up to the French Pass Road, in what is again a hot sunny day. The road follows the backbone of the peninsula to Elmslie Bay where I intend to catch a boat across to D’Urville Island.

It’s sometimes a little unclear what “French Pass” is referring to so here’s my take: the wee settlement at Elmslie Bay is labelled ‘French Pass (Anaru)’ on the NZtopo map and the narrow passage between the island and mainland is labelled ‘Te Aumiti (French Pass).’ I never heard anyone use the Maori names.

The boat doesn't go through the narrowest part of the pass which is apparently fearsome in some tides as it has the fastest tidal flow in the country, but don’t take my word for it, Aunty Wiki has some pretty good info. Here’s another website that’s got some useful and interesting stuff including an explanation of the name Te Aumiti, it doesn't refer to the name ‘Anaru’.

Just after the Elaine Bay intersection I run into a couple of (clearly very fit) older bikers heading back to Okiwi Bay, a good wee step away and stop for a chat. They've grunted up from one of the many bays along the road and have a fair amount of up and down to look forward to. My direction follows the ridge with various ups and downs. It’s mostly gravel but sealed in the stretch down to Elmslie Bay.

About 12.5km after the intersection is the turn-off to Port Ligar on the right which takes you further north than French Pass along another peninsula – it could be well worth exploring albeit fairly hilly.

Mt Shewell and the peninsula out to Port Ligar. Hallam cove in front, Admiralty Bay to left.

Thereafter, the bare farmland of the Peninsula allows unimpeded views over the Sounds and out to D’Urville Island. There’s a bit of returning traffic with boats, some of which slow to minimise the dust.

First view of D’Urville Island. 
From French Pass Road, Te Aumiti visible on the right.

Closer to French Pass looking up the length of D’Urville Island.

After the final ripping downhill into Elmslie Bay it’s a bit before 1200 hrs. There’s a shop with fuel, a DoC campground , a backpackers (I think it was for sale) and rental homes in the area and on D’Urville Island. The shop provides a much needed ginger beer and phone card to contact Craig Aston the boat operator and the campground a top-up of water bottles (not great tasting water).

I track down Craig who turns out to be solid and matter of fact; he lives on the island but is in town so timing is perfect. Craig and Christine operate a few boats which can be used for access to the Island (including taking vehicles) and also have a holiday house for rent (website). The trip across is so short it’s a matter of minutes for him to scoot over and do a pick up. He quoted $75 each way for me and bike.

There are other options to get across including the Wilderness lodge that provides accommodation on the Island a water taxi service and amongst other things.

Boats on Admiralty Bay. 
From Anaru looking eastish, Port Ligar is behind the ridge.

The boat is a small flat bottomed barge with a bunch of fuel containers that we load up along with me and bike. The trip to Kapowai Bay doesn’t take long at all. We do a quick check to make sure my phone works at the end of the wharf (not all networks are created equal) and he potters off south to the bay where he lives. I reapply sunscreen and check that the bike looks like it will hold together for the final 35km and, with a bit of luck back again.

Leaving Anaru (or should that be Anaru leaving?). 
Ok, I look like a prat but it was a good shot of Craig. 
Campervan by my left ear marks the Doc campground, 
shop is behind my head, jetty by Craig’s shoulder.

It’s 1300 hrs and the gravel road starts climbing at a steady rate immediately. And keeps going up. The road is in good nick and there’s plenty of shadow from the bush so it’s not too bad in the heat. Kupe Road joins from the left after a little over 4km where the road flattens for a bit then the final climb to top-out after 8-9km at 570m (below Attempt Hill). Then it’s up and down until the Community Hall at about 12.5km on the right; it’s a large log building which can be booked for $50/night for one (better rates for more – Sue Savage takes bookings and offered to arrange key and payment via Craig; her number is on the Aston’s website ).

Peering inside, it has kitchen, shower, sleeping areas and a large communal space. More to the point, it has a rain water supply which tastes way better than the French Pass water (careful how you say that). I leave a small bag of non-essentials for pick up on the way back and push on.

Half a km later is the Port Hardy turn off on the left that provides access to a large part of the Island, definitely scope for a return visit. More down and up and the bush becomes low scrub as the road sidles around Mt Ears and, after a long downhill; bare farmland.

From Mt Ears looking north 
Rangitoto Islands on right, Stephens Island appearing from behind hill in the middle, 
Cape Stephens and the Sisters in the background, 
Road to Waiau Bay on hills to left with East Arm of Port Hardy just in front.

After a bit over 23km Waiau Bay Road heads off to the left and I continue on Patuki Rd, which starts to more and more resemble a farm access road. Eventually (28km) it dives east and down to the farm house. I had called earlier to arrange access so continue through a gate and along the ridge.
The trip started in a farm paddock at Slope Point and the final few km is up and down through more paddocks (with a fair amount of pushing in the baking heat). It becomes a bit of an endurance test with each corner revealing another lump to get over. Eventually a lone cabbage tree comes into sight, and I’m casting around for the track when it dawns that this is it.

First view of the end. 
Looking West at the Sisters on the right and down into Port Hardy on the left. 
The point in the distance is Nile Head at the end of Tower Ridge. 
Mt Woore (693m) on the horizon with Victory Island (Moutitit) in front of it.

The odo stands at 1,340km, it’s 1625 hrs and, like much of the trip, it's a scorcher.

There a couple of points you could go to on the Cape and call it the end but I choose the bit above the Bishop’s Cauldron with the Sisters Islands as a back drop: Te Wakaapani (closest and largest), Te Mokaiapani and Nga Tamahineapani. Stephen’s Island (made famous in weather reporting, as in; “Gale force Southerly winds and heavy rain from Stephen’s Island to Cape Campbell.”) lies to the northeast.   100km due east is the Kapiti Coast just south of Levin, 107km west is the coast south of Collingwood and Blenheim is 91km to the south.

I prop the bike and take a few snaps then scramble down to the edge of the cliff to sit and eat a celebratory tin of sardines.

She made it. Giant XTC2 legend with some landscape behind.

And he made it.
Hot, weary, dirty, scruffy and probably slightly smelly rider with some landscape behind.

Lunch and legs on ledge. 
Legs are covered in a paste of sunscreen and dust.

Although about 22 km shy of the northernmost point on the South Island (Cape Farewell at the base of Farewell Spit) and not actually part of the Island; this is where I was aiming. There’s a feeling of achievement and completion but, to be honest, the prospect of making the return trip in time to get off the Island that evening weighs on the mind.  But there's time for a thought for Ron Gilbert who traveled many of the routes I've been over on his motorbike years ago when they would have been quite a different proposition. I'd like to think he would have appreciated this account.

However, retracing the route is not so bad as the day cools, the only items of note are the traffic (1 car) and a fabulously long and fast downhill back to Kapowai Bay. I call Craig from the Wharf at 2010 hrs and to my relief he responds immediately.

Kapowai wharf - job done
Turner Peak (683m) in the background

It’s been a discourteously brief visit to the Island at seven and a half hours, but I’m pretty happy to chuck the bike into Craig's ‘other boat’ (smaller and faster), and rip across the still waters to Anaru.

Through the passage to the southwest the hazy air in Tasman Bay is bright with golden evening light. To the east and behind, the Sounds and D’Urville Island are dimming into evening. Minutes later I’m wrestling the bike up the slippery wharf steps, paying the ferryman and finding Sally who has entirely missed the triumphant return.

Well, I ‘spose that’s that then.

Stripping down the bike for the last time.

As we leave Anaru we pause briefly to catch the last sight of the setting sun.  It's sort of fitting seeing as the trip started with sunrise at Slope Point.

Looking south into Tasman Bay from French Pass

It’s a long drive back to Blenheim in the dark; a pie, a shower and fall into bed around midnight.

Tomorrow? Sleep, eat and do nothing ... except maybe wash the bike.

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Length of the South - Day Eight

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Route

Blenheim to Harvey Bay via Havelock and Nydia Track

Day 8 Map

Distance: 121    Cumulative: 1,260

A leisurely 0800 start, and rather than chug back to an arbitrary point on the Wairau Valley Road, I head straight from Blenheim for the Wakamarina track. This is likely to be the toughest day and I’m a bit spooked by the prospect of the grunt over the range with full kit. It’s overcast but the ubiquitous Blenheim wind hasn’t started yet. The range is shrouded in cloud, so hopefully cool up top and good for climbing.

People are getting about their business and traffic is relatively busy but the road shoulders are ok. Renwick is a little early for a food stop, even though the pies from the bakery have been pretty good in the past; an iced coffee is however always in order.

After crossing the Wairau death bridge (no concessions made for cyclists) the trip up Onamalutu Road is pleasant and I make a mental note to visit the Reserve one day, however I’m a bit uneasy about the level of forestry activity – chainsaws echo through the valley, trucks are coming and going and there’s lots of signs about access, radio call signs and such.

It is not until the end of the road that I see ‘Closed’ on a DoC Wakamarina Track sign – I continue a short way to check and sure enough Kiwi Road has fierce signs making it very clear that cyclists aren't welcome. There’s a fair amount of teeth grinding, and imprecations about the iniquities of DoC officers that don’t bother putting signs at the start of the road, as steps are retraced. To be fair, I discover that there was a sign on the side of North Bank Road (left going up valley) not long after the main road intersection that gives the status of various routes – I hadn't seen it and there was no indication on the Wakamarina sign at the North Bank / Onamalutu Rd intersection.

Oh well, plan B is to ignore the wasted 30km and head straight up SH 6 for a leisurely lunch with Sally at the Slip Inn in Havelock, and a few essential supplies from the shop. It also provides an opportunity to make some phone calls and arrange transport to and access on D’Urville Island.

A relatively new bridge across the Pelorus River has dramatically shortened the commute from Havelock to the Nydia track (or MTB trust website) to about 20km. The gravel road winds along the coast through bush with virtually no traffic. It’s a hot day again. Just before the turn off to the track about 1500 hrs (pretty easy to identify by the DoC signs) two trampers are heading back along the road. I suspect they’ll have a long walk without a lift. After that, I see no-one through the entire track.

Reports are that the Nydia Track is better from north to south and one of the best advanced rides around. I’m sweating hard within five minutes of leaving the southern road end, as the track commences the first 200m climb. This would be mostly rideable but not for me today. The track is good, and would be a ball in the opposite direction.

The track drops again and traverses some flat pine forest (all rideable) before diving upwards for the Kaiuma Saddle. I’m off and pushing again. Even without gear I would find much of this section tricky riding in either direction with a lot of rocky creek cuttings and outcrops to scramble around, in and out of. It becomes a bit of a bike wrangling mission with cussing attendant on the odd pedal/knee connection. It would be shades worst in the wet as the rocks are treacherously slippery to cleated shoes.

It’s about 1640 hrs when I wheel the bike into the saddle and take a break before an entertaining downhill into Nydia Bay. There’s a short stretch across farmland with a couple of stream crossings, before hitting the coastline with the choice of a DoC lodge to the right or private lodge, DoC campsite and continuation of the track to the left. It’s 1715 hrs so plenty of time to grunt over the next saddle, and onwards it is.

Nydia Bay. Nydia saddle on horizon. Track follows edge of bay on left.

Nydia Bay. Nydia saddle on horizon.

The track winds for about 5km along the bay through bush and past various cribs (to use the southern vernacular). All rideable and very pleasant. Then there is a grunt up the next saddle, but by 1920 hrs the long push is over and the Nydia Saddle provides views back across the bay to the Kaiuma Saddle in the distance. There are more kereru in the surrounding bush than I have ever seen in one place before.

There’s a fair amount of bike wrangling required
climbing Nydia Saddle.

Looking back across Nydia Bay to Kaiuma Saddle
(had to darken photo in order to pick up background details)

Another great fun downhill (again mostly rideable), then a long sidle around the coast, where I get a bit sick of beech tree roots across the track. It’s a bit after 2000 hrs when I hear voices and come to the road end and meet a family coming into Duncan Bay from a day’s fishing - a little over 5 hours on the track with some lovely riding. The bush throughout is gorgeous and with a little more time there would be plenty of scope to admire views across isolated bays, swim, and kick back at a campsite or lodge.

Less than 4km later I’m picking out a camping spot at the Harvey Bay DoC campsite . Nice enough with a loo, tap, stream and good choice of sites. There’s a mixed bag of tents and camper buses, but plenty of space for a biker looking for a tree to sleep under. The caretaker is in residence and takes my $6, I wash at the stream and roll out my bivvy bag. The occupants of a nearby tent keep yacking into the night but Dimp keeps the mozzies at bay, the evening is mild, and I’m content. Wekas and Moreporks call in the dark.

Home for the night. Everything got hung on a tree out of reach of kleptomaniac Wekas.

Options

There’s plenty of options depending on where you want to end up; the Wakamarina is unfinished business for me, the road to Havelock was just plan B; from Blenheim you could go around Port Underwood or through to Linkwater via the Waikakaho Walkway (check the Kennett’s book though – I’m not sure about doing it with gear on board). Queen Charlotte Track would be a good option for getting out into the Sounds although not as far north as French Pass.

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Length of the South - Day Seven

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Route

Bottom of St James, up Clarence River over Island Saddle to follow the Wairau River through the Rainbow Road to SH 63 and down to Wairau Valley township.

Day 7 Map

Distance: 155    Cumulative: 1,139

The motel owners kindly allowed me to stash the bike out back with their dog last night and are rewarded by being woken up at 0600 hrs as we try to leave quietly. Sally drops me at the DoC cottage and disappears off back to the unit to prepare for a leisurely trip over the Lewis Pass and around to St Arnaud to enjoy a beautiful sunny afternoon in the bush around Lake Rotoiti and impeccable hospitality at the St Arnaud Alpine Lodge.

DoC cottage at bottom end of St James

This is the second time I have biked in this area, last time was with Julie and Thomas in October 2013 when we got rained off the St James and Rainbow and did the Molesworth instead.

The trip up the Clarence is on a pretty badly corrugated road but not as bad as some I've been on in the last few days. It’s a dramatic landscape but barren with cattle on the flats and two lines of pylons dominating the valley. Somewhere behind the range on my left (west) the St James Cycle Trail (or: DoC link ) loops out and up the Waiau River to loop back over Maling Pass and join my road again further up the valley. Fowlers Pass Track heads off on the left about half way between. There’s a bit of traffic about including a flash Land Rover going in my direction.

Where the St James Cycle Trail re-joins, the road crosses the Clarence for the last time (0930 hrs). Regretfully I don’t take the turn off to Lake Tennyson; not far away and reportedly very pretty (and with a campsite ). The flash Land Rover does, as it passes me again a little further on.

Looking north from near top end of St James. 
The road follows the pylons up the valley on the right to Island Saddle, 
Mt Southey is straight ahead, Lake Tennyson is in the valley next to it 
Mt McCabe (and Mt Princess on the skyline behind) are on the other side of the lake, 
Maling Pass is the notch on the left with the Spenser Mountains just visible behind.

As the road leaves the Clarence it heads up into Island Saddle, which marks the transition from the Clarence to the Wairau catchment. I’ll be following this waterway for a while. The final grunt up to the saddle (1,347m) is steep but only about 200m high so not so bad. This is apparently the highest publicly accessed road in the country.  At 1030 hrs the day is starting to get pretty warm.

Traffic. Final climb to Island Saddle from Serpentine creek.

Island Saddle – highest point on the trip.
Looking southwest back down the road. Mt Southey on right with Lake Tennyson not visible directly behind it,
St James Range across the background (the Clarence River is not visible but flows right at foot of the Range),
Paget Ridge on left.

The road drops down through Island Gully to join the Wairau River (there’s a sign posted track to Island Gully hut which crosses the stream just at the gully mouth). It’s fast travel heading east down the Upper Wairau, on the true left a series of deep gullies cut into the Turk Ridge, which meets the Crimea Range behind me (west) to delineate the headwaters of the Wairau River.

The road crosses the Wairau River, marking a pivotal point in this area. To the west is the Wairau headwaters and the route I have followed from the Clarence; in the valley to the south is Tarndale, the headquarters of the Molesworth Station; to the east, about 15km away, is Isolated Saddle on the Molesworth Road. The flats to the south and east are extensive and dotted with lakes including Lake Sedgemore. However, I am heading north, to follow the Wairau through Wairau Gorge before joining the Rainbow River (for reference, DoC’s Sedgemore Sleep-out is on the right of the road before the bridge – I didn’t note any signs but wasn’t looking).

Heart of the Molesworth. Looking south and west; 
Wairau River flowing right to left in foreground, Mt Tarndale on skyline behind the hill on the right, 
Boddington Range in the distance, Alma Heights above bridge on left. 
Tarndale is in the valley straight ahead, the Alma River flows right to left at the foot of 
the Boddington Range and provides access from Tarndale to the Molesworth road. 
Sedgemore Hut is probably at the stand of trees in the middle.

About 1130 hrs I reach a gate that marks the boundary between the Government-owned Molesworth Station and the privately-owned Rainbow Station. The Land Rover is parked up and the occupants express surprise at seeing me again. It’s an older group of friends from Auckland that are touring the top of the South and, having enjoyed Hanmer, are taking the interesting route to St Arnaud. Another 4WD turns up as they are leaving – this road is busy!

Last sight of Molesworth Station. Looking south, Mt Tarndale on skyline.

The country side starts to change becoming greener and rockier. Beech starts to turn up and provide a bit of shade. It is dramatically different to the sterile landscapes of the Molesworth. At Coldwater Creek there is a DoC campsite that looks idyllic set amongst trees, with a clear stream, grassy area for tents, and a loo. Although it’s midday, I’m not feeling quite like stopping yet so head on through the Gorge.

Coldwater Creek DoC Campsite

20 minutes later I’m looking at the confluence of the Rainbow and Wairau. An older woman cyclist is coming the other way (Australian). She has a tough road ahead and is well laden, but seems content to potter along and is not aiming to get to Hanmer today.

Looking north down the Wairau River,
confluence with Rainbow River in middle of photo somewhere.

The road crosses the combined rivers and follows down the left bank. At 64km it crosses Connors Creek and a signposted track leading up the true left to Connors Creek Hut , about a km away.
Grassed flats give way to scrub, then beech forest, which covers the lower slopes of the steep valley sides. The river is clean and clear and already sizable. You can’t help thinking what it is like by the time it gets to Renwick. Periodically a 4WD or DoC ute passes.

At around 65km there’s a gate and the old cob homestead. A 4WD is parked outside paying their dues, and another pulls up as I’m opening the gate. I wait for them to clear through and have a good old chat with the woman. She’s there through the season taking $2 from the cyclists, $15 from motorbikes and $25 from vehicles. Names go into her book and I note that I’m the 6th cyclists to go through today. She says a group of three came through with a support vehicle earlier. She relates telling one of the DoC staff off, for going too fast on the road, and her views on their weed control programme; “they’re not touching my blackberries!”

At 1330 hrs I come to Hamilton River which is clear and inviting, so stop for lunch amongst the beech trees (a tin of sardines and a couple of muesli bars). But not before wading in and just standing in a cold pool for a while.

Hamilton River

Very much revived I potter on across fords, through beech and along grassy flats. Eventually (75km in) the road crosses Six Mile Creek, meets the Rainbow ski field road and becomes tarseal – which I wasn’t expecting. From there it is a very comfortable ride following the cleared pylon corridor down the valley, over old terraces, through stands of beech and across occasional fords (including “No Catchem Stream” – I wonder what’s behind that name).

About 89km there is a fork that I had hoped to take where the farm road goes straight to SH 63. Grumpy signs rule that out so there’s a bit of winding uphill to join SH 63 part of the way up to Top House Saddle. With 92km down it’s 1520 hrs and there’s a firm tail wind blowing down valley, so I turn towards Blenheim.

About 8km down the road I’m skipping along at a great rate when I see a cyclist with a tramping pack(!) gasping in the patch of shade from a single tree. He relates a sad tale of leaving Blenheim with favourable winds which then switched, and he’s been battling into it in the heat ever since with no shops since Wairau Valley Township (50ish km away). He’s absolutely strung out and appreciates the chance for a chat. There’s not much I can do apart from offer moral encouragement and point out it’s less than 20km to go to St Arnaud (from where he intends to go tramping). He tries to wave down a camper van which fails to stop.

I go back to enjoying the tailwind, tinged with guilt. 7km later the road crosses the river and I note that there is active forestry on the north bank so I would not have been able to get through. Across the river the wind changes. I put it down to a local anomaly and stop for a breather at the DoC camping ground a wee way after the bridge. But no, the dreadful Blenheim weather is doing its thing and I’m up against a strong head wind for the rest of the day. In these conditions the Wairau Valley has very little going for it: long straights, grinding wind, forestry and farms (and, before long, grapes), no shops and little of interest.

Eventually I decide to pack it in, there’s accommodation available at Wairau Valley Township and Alistair very kindly agrees to come up from Blenheim to pick me up. I stop at the pub to swill down a ginger beer. It’s a bit of a sad relic and nobody is in tonight despite some hopeful dinner settings at one of the tables. I leave the hotelier to his empty bar and head on down the road to meet my ride for a very comfortable and convivial evening.

Options

One obvious option is to do the St James Cycleway, which I had up my sleeve but elected not to do this time. The Molesworth would be a very good option; it avoids the commute down the Wairau Valley and could be followed by the Port Underwood Road. The north bank of the Wairau was a serious consideration, but logging operations were underway. Another possibility is to head left out of the Rainbow and through to Nelson via Eighty Eight Valley, and then over the Maungatapu Track to Pelorus or towards Golden Bay if you wanted to finish at the most northern point of the Island.

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Length of the South - Day Six

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Route

Loburn to southern entry to St James cycle way

Day 6 Map

Distance: 127    Cumulative: 984


With a bit of bike work required and the long commute it is 1000 hrs before we’re back in Loburn. I have taken the pragmatic course and, apart from a few gravel back country short cuts from Loburn to Amberly, elect to just plug on up the main highways and wash the Canterbury dust from my cycle shoes as soon as possible.

Elegant departure from Loburn

Things go ok until Amberly (25km) where the wind changes to a strengthening headwind. Turning northwest up SH 7 at Waipara (36km) it gets worse and turns into a battle all the way through the low Weka Pass (260m) to Waikari (50km) so a good excuse to stop for a filled roll and ginger beer at the pie shop. Not too long later though it swings to the west and it is a fairly quick trip up to Culverden (76km) arriving around 1400 hrs for an ice cream and cold water. The road is busy with returning holiday makers and it is another scorcher. Last time I came through Culverden on a bike was 26 years ago, but that’s another story.

The final stretch to Hanmer turns more into the wind, but a bit of overcast develops and it cools so is not so bad. The landscape becomes more interesting and just after the turn off SH 7 the Waiau Ferry Bridge provides views up the river and across the Hanmer plains. I’m cruising into Hanmer around 1640 hrs (112km) with the short day having revived energy levels somewhat. After a break it’s a quick scoot over Jacks Pass to the bottom end of the St James, where there is a DoC cottage I have crashed in before (I couldn’t find any references on the DoC website to this as accommodation but there weren’t any signs saying you couldn’t sleep there).

Jacks Pass with Hanmer hidden around the ridge on the left

Sally does a pickup at 1900 hrs, and we return to the more comfortable digs in Hanmer where the operators have relocated us to a cooler room on the ground floor. There’s plenty of time to marinate in the hot pools before a late dinner.

Options

The Okuku Pass options are key determinants on route choice at this point. The obvious option to skip a large section of main road is McDonald Downs and Hawarden however once on the long route out of Okuku Pass, the main road is easiest. I suspect there are some forestry or farm access options that I didn’t identify and the other possibility is to head out to Lake Sumner and hike/bike through to the Lewis Pass Road. It seemed a bit of a risk though (i.e. could be a long bike wrestle) so caution and the main roads won. Worth getting some intelligence on that option though.

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Length of the South - Day Five

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Route

Sheffield to Loburn via the Wharfdale track, Lees Valley, Okuku Pass and Okuku Saddle.

Day 5 Map

Distance: 112    Cumulative: 857

It’s almost 0800 hrs before Sheffield is disappearing behind. A flock of sheep slows progress briefly and a nose bleed creates a colourful splatter across face, shirt and gloves: great, I look a right sight.

The Wharfdale track is part of the Kiwi Brevet so I’m very interested in seeing what it's like. A group of three mountain bikers pass on the way up to the track, and three or four cars squeeze past. I tag along with the bikers following them through the gates and we chat on the way up the hill. They’re heading through the track and back to Oxford via the Ashley Gorge – it looks like a good round trip.

There’s at least 10 mountain bikers in various stages of preparation at the car park; this track is popular! My bikers stop while I push on, expecting to see them before too long as they are travelling light.

The single track slips into the shade beneath trees and upwards. It is mostly ridable although with touring rig there are a number of spots I choose to push, as I’m not about to kill myself to ride up everything possible. The bush is beautiful and there’s quite a few walking tracks hiving off in various directions.

After a bit of climbing, the track levels and drops through an entertaining section before resuming climbing to the saddle (750m) with a few nasty, rocky, pushy bits. One solo chap passes, I hear voices behind a couple of times and a couple of trampers and bikers come the other way, so it feels fairly populated.

There’s a bit of a grassy flat spot in the saddle but you can rest on the downhill so I continue, as the narrow track sidles and drops with a few washouts and slips to wrestle the bike through. It’s generally pretty good riding, although you have to pay attention and there is a bit of dis- and re-mounting required. There are slot drains, some of which are just a little wide for a 26 wheel; the trick is picking which ones to dismount for.

Just before the hut , I managed to smack my helmet into a fallen tree, breaking the shell and gouging out a chunk of polystyrene. Minutes after, I go over the handle bars and off the edge of the track, whacking a nice wee gash into my already tender right knee. It happens slowly enough to experience that interesting little moment in time when you realise what is going to happen and wonder how much damage you’re about to do to yourself. Should have dropped the seat height and not tried to stop instead of negotiating that drop off …

Why I always wear a helmet; that would have poked a hole in my head!

The hut provides a chance to regroup out of the sun, and swear and bleed for a bit. It’s good and basic but has no rain water tank. The catchment looks pretty good so I fill up at the stream and, as I’m heading out, the three riders turn up. They ask what I think of the track, and I get the impression that at least one of them thinks it is not really an enjoyable ride. Despite the mishaps I’m relishing not being on roads, the cover of the canopy, and just being surrounded by bush.

The track pretty soon leaves the cover, and that’s it for shade for the rest of the day. I chat to a couple of hunters at the road end who are heading into the hut (clearly think we’re mental but too polite to say so), before heading out onto the flats with the other bikers. It’s pretty easy to follow the route if you've looked at the satellite images, although I lead us on a little bit of a long cut trying to follow smoother cattle tracks, rather than a bumpy section of road on a terrace on the true right of the river.

The other bikers head off for Oxford via the Ashley Gorge while I turn left up the Lees Valley. It’s hard going in the heat and most streams are dry. I stop to cool feet and wet my bandanna at one that is flowing, and sit in the Didymo at the edge of the Ashley River to cool down.

Traffic is light and disappears altogether when the road turns into a farm track and a short climb up to the Okuku Pass (630m). It feels pretty isolated now, dropping through a valley to Okuku River. I enjoy another sit in the water, which is warm from flowing across exposed river flats. Although shallow today, it could be a show stopper if you hit it after a bit of rain.

A short climb leads up to Lees Pass (570m), three motor bikes pass from the other direction and we acknowledge each other – I've noticed that when it comes to other road users (excluding cyclists), off-road motorbike tourers seem most likely to interact with you. I’ll not go into detail but you can classify road users and generalise how they will interact (this may also partially answer the question ‘what do you think about on the long straight bits?’).

About a kilometre after Lees Pass the road turns right and there’s a gate on the left. This is the access point to McDonald Downs, the route of the Kiwi Brevet and considerably shorter than the alternatives. I didn't manage to make contact with the farm beforehand, and as the Brevet is coming through soon, don’t want to take any risks around permission (although someone did suggest that there may be a paper road). There are some vehicles near a cottage so I take potluck and head past the warning sign on the gate to see if there is someone to ask permission. Nobody about, so I reluctantly head back to the Okuku Pass Road and a much longer route.

The track winds and drops and climbs through the isolated farmland with the impact of forestry becoming more apparent (Ashley Forest). My trip notes are pretty accurate though, and despite the number of side roads marked on the maps, the main route is pretty easy to follow.

Two issues start becoming problematic: with one less bottle I’m running low on water - all streams have obvious animal exposure, and there’s plenty of heat in the afternoon sun. I fill one bottle with stream water and pop in a tablet as an emergency reserve. The other worry is that a number of splits in the tyres are joining up, resulting in large sections of tread coming loose from the Kevlar canvas. It sounds like someone running down a gravel drive in jandals, and cornering at pace is becoming quite interesting. The Kevlar lining is showing scuff marks and I don’t fancy my chances of completing another 50kms of this terrain on them.  As a result, instead of heading to Mt Grey, I exit over Okuku Saddle (600m) and an interesting 300m jandal-slapping descent down the gully to the plains.

The jandal slapper! The biggest of a number of rents on both tyres

All this carry-on is adding even more distance to what has become an extremely long cut. Sally is in Amberly so is able to meet me at Loburn a bit after 1900 hrs, where there are sufficient accommodation options to meet my pick up ‘rules’. However, she has booked a unit in Hamner so a long commute is required.

Lees Valley and Okuku Pass isn't beautiful country; it’s all forestry and farming. It does feel very much off the beaten track though and way more interesting than the endless tarseal of yesterday.
I haven’t covered a lot of distance (and 40km of that was heading south rather than north) and feel at pretty low ebb, what with the heat, dehydration and nausea on top of the physical low point from yesterday and the additional kilometres that the tactical retreat represents. Afterwards I discover that the only photos I have from the day were a couple of unsuccessful shots of two different shaped knees.

At Hamner the motel room has no air con and is like a sauna … still, better than a tree, the hosts are really nice and you can order-in Chinese and pizza.

Options

I had three options from Okuku Pass. Option one follows the Brevet route through McDonald Downs and is shortest and least hilly (20km). I didn’t manage to make contact to get permission and wasn’t about to take a chance and spoil it for the Brevet. Option two is hilliest and second longest, as it skirts Mt Grey (76km). Option three (93km) is longest, exiting the hills via Okuku Saddle. In the end the tyre situation meant a variation on option three. I carried topo maps of the area, as it looked like forestry activity could mean that roads might change or access restrictions may require a recalculation. (The distances given above are to the end of the McDonalds Downs road)

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Length of the South - Day Four

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Route 

Burkes Pass to Sheffield via Fairlie, Geraldine and the inland scenic route (SH 72).

Day 4 Map

Distance: 190    Cumulative: 745

Final adjustments before leaving Burkes Pass Township

It’s a clear sky but misty further down the valley as Sally drops me at a quiet Burkes Pass township for a 0720 hrs departure. It’s a quick and cool trip down valley to Fairlie (21km) then onto Geraldine (46km further) at 1000 hrs - by when it has cleared into a warm and cloudless morning. Geraldine shows all the hall marks of an intersection on the tourist trail with buses and souvenir shops. Sally catches up soon after for a roadside comparison of intentions.

The day heats up and the straights get longer. The high point is stopping at Mayfield, where a couple of Austrian cycle tourists are sitting outside a café. We compare notes: they are taking their time and have travelled through Australia and the North Island (including Whangamomona) and are heading down the South Island to come up the West Coast. She is delighted to hear that Slope Point is the southernmost point of the Island and that they will no longer need to visit Bluff; he still wants to see it though, as he can’t believe it is bad as he has been told. I refrain from comment but note that SH 1 at that point is pretty cycle unfriendly.

They are interested in my lightweight rig but as they are living on the road have to carry a lot more, and have more heavy duty gear, including internal hub gearing. This almost halves their daily mileage, but man they must be fit. The break is longer then needed and the day scorching hot when I set out again.

Hot and dry. Head down on the Canterbury plains

Sally stops by near Pudding Hill (near Methven) and I stretch a point by accepting cold water. It’s dry and hot with a strong head wind and precious few towns to break the monotony, so a good excuse to sit under a tree for a bit.

Still on the Canterbury plains

Moving again but still in Canterbury

Rakaia Gorge marks the end of the long, gradual uphill from Geraldine. It has its share of folk enjoying the river and scenery and I decide not to take the option of turning left up Zig Zag Rd for Acheron and Porters Pass.

The final leg for the day is the push to Sheffield into a head wind. There’s a few more towns (Glentunnel, Coalgate) which give an excuse to pause and rest. Another cyclist stops, he’s heading towards Queenstown with a pretty casual bike set up. I recommend a dip in the Rakaia, which I should have done. A hitchhiker walking in the opposite direction stops for a chat and it turns out later that he also chatted to Sally, who is waiting up the road a bit.

Finally, Sheffield at 1900 hrs and it’s quits for the day. Sally has booked in at a pretty standard motel in Oxford so we chuck the bike on the car and head there. I’m in a pretty poor state and nauseous from the heat, and not eating and drinking properly, so stay in the unit drinking cold water and trying to force down pasta. Also lying on my front due to … well, it’s a bit of a low point.

Options 

I couldn't find realistic options through this stretch that avoided sealed roads and interminable straights. There were a number of possibilities but most involved looping out and coming back to the main road not much further on. I had intended to follow the Rakaia River up to Acheron and back over Porters Pass, but in the end was a bit fed up with Canterbury and decided just to push on up the road to Sheffield. This stretch of the Island is why it is a strong option to take the West Coast despite the amount of tarseal involved there – it’s less busy and better scenery than the Canterbury Plains.

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