Upper South Road Ride

23 to 28 September 2013
Solo road tour

The plan for the week is to ride through the Rainbow Station via the St James cycle-track to Hanmer Springs (for a soak in the hot pools) then make it up from there.  Luckily I'm not one of those that are put out when well laid plans turn to custard.  Rain and swollen rivers puts paid to the Rainbow so it turns into a road trip with a little bit of rail thrown in.

Monday 23

The alarm goes at 0045 after two hour's sleep and it's straight onto the pre-packed bike and into the empty, wet streets of Lower Hutt.  A northerly helps for a quick trip to the Bluebridge ferry terminal and a short wait before boarding for Picton. 

The Bluebridge service is always slightly rustic, which I kind of like, so I use their service as much as I can, unfortunately they have limited sailings so it normally doesn't suit.  On board, some of the truckies (most of the passengers at this time of night) have lashed out the extra $40 for a cabin so there are only a scattering of people kipping out on the seats. A hot chocolate helps with settling down to join them and the additional couple of hours sleep are appreciated.

It's a calm crossing with the sky starting to lighten as the boat turns out of Tory Channel into Queen Charlotte Sound.  The truckies turn up and tuck into brekky; checking cell phones and clutching coffees. At around 0610 the sky is light as I lead the trucks off the boat and head up the road towards Blenheim.

The planned route is up the Wairau Valley, a wide river valley running WSW from the East Coast into the middle of the South Island where you pass over a low saddle (730m or so) into the narrower Buller River valley which takes a more meandering course westward to the coast at Westport. 

By Renwick (37km from Picton) it's a sunny morning and time to stop to pick up breakfast and something for lunch later on (no shops for another 90 odd km).  Now for the long haul up the Wairau Valley into a strengthening head wind (the prevailing winds tend to be from the north and west so there's a good chance of a head wind for this stretch).

On Sunday Iona had been telling me about being bombed by magpies out riding in the Manawatu and I had noted it had never happened to me. Well, at least 6 of the buggers have from one to many goes as I pass through their territory this morning. None actually hit but there's a bit of a hiss or squawk as they buzz by very close. 

Kowhai Point DoC camp site in the Upper Wairau is a chance for a bit of a lie down and rest.  Tui chase each other through the blooming kowhai and it looks like not a bad wee spot to camp at a pinch. Then it's the only significant uphill stretch to Tophouse Saddle and a 5km cruise under now overcast skies and a few spots of rain into St Arnaud just after 1pm. 

Tophouse Saddle; last sun of the day

A long coffee at the store, then a visit to the DoC centre to check out pamphlets (they're charging 50c or more each; talk about under-funded), and eat lunch accompanied by sandflies.

The drizzle mooches about and refuses to go so eventually I harden up and set off figuring there's plenty of time to get to Murchison 60km away. The drizzle stops just down the road and stays away for the rest of the day. 

The first 25km from St Arnaud has long straights and is virtually deserted.  The valley then starts to narrow and the road starts to do a bit of up and down, but overall it's a net drop all the way to Murchison.  However a long day, on top of little sleep, is catching up and the last 10km into Murchison is interminable.

On arrival the question is where to stay. Although at about 4:20 there's plenty of light, I don't fancy tenting on the side of the road somewhere. The brochures all advertised one place, which seemed a bit expensive, so when I see Riverview Holiday Park just before town, I figure the odds are good that it's cheaper and quiet. Sure enough it's tucked away from the main road between the cemetery and the river. The cabins looked pretty rough and the owner has a ZZ Top beard (only slightly off white). I fork out the sum of $15 for a cabin and first impressions are confirmed inside. Everything is rough but there are pillows in cases and a bottom sheet I can believe is clean. The place is ideal.

Tucked in between the cemetery and the river ...

A trip to the Four Square for dinner before a shower.  A local inhabitant with a well developed drinking habit takes me under his wing and recommends the disability shower which has just been fixed. I'll say: a deluge of hot water cascades from the nozzle and I'm soon clean, then warmed through and eventually bored. My patience runs out before the $2 coin does.

The Buller River flows quietly beside the camp which is full of young kayakers, the ones next to my cabin are playing drinking games, hopefully that won't go to late.

Cycling gear in front of the heater dries quickly but fills the hut with the smell of evaporated sweat; lovely.  I'm not sure of the distance today but figure it's approaching 200km (it was 205 including getting to the ferry), further than I've done in a day before anyway and it's not surprising that by 8pm the battle against sleep is lost.  I have a brilliant night's sleep on the floor rather than the sagging bunk.

Tuesday

Packed, breakfasted and off for Inangahua by 0730 under cloudy skies.  It's warming up, after 50 odd km down the Upper Buller Gorge, so I stop outside the closed local shop and apply sun screen before turning south away from the Buller River and onto Highway 69 for Reefton.  The wind seems to have swung to the south so those long straights through farmland are a bit of a drag.  But Reefton and an early lunch in the shade roll around soon enough.  I chat briefly with a Triumph rider who has also come up from Murchison.  He mutters about the bucket of bolts but it's obviously his pride and joy.

Reefton Four Square; hot and sunny

There's a low saddle to cross to get into the Grey catchment then the long run down Highway 7 towards Greymouth.  Not a lot to report really; a farming valley with a railway line ...

The sun has disappeared again but I'm feeling hot enough to stop for a breather and drink at Ikamatua, about 112km from Murchison. It's a busy wee store and clearly a hub for the local community.  It's early afternoon so time to start thinking about where to sleep to night, Jacksons on the Arthur's Pass road seems too far away given the way I'm feeling, but there's an outside chance if I take the sealed route (turn left at Stillwater) rather than one of the gravel back roads. The head wind rises further so the afternoon turns into a bit of a slog.

After 170km Moana, the settlement beside Lake Brunner, is a welcome sight.  It has a petrol station/store and a few accommodation options.  The proprietress sees me staring disconsolately at the pie warmer wishing they had something more palatable.  She reads my mind and offers to make a roast beef and pickle sandwich; perfect.  She informs me that the Jackson pub is no longer operating but that there is a camper van park just down the road.  She is a mine of information and really helpful.

She just about sells me on staying at one of the nearby options but there's 2 hours of sunlight left so it would be a shame not to push on.  Maybe next time - it looks like a great spot.

The wind steps it up another notch and although mostly side or head on there are a few long straights which whip by with a chasing wind.  The last 5km are gently up hill into the wind and dimming light but at last the bridge over the Taramakau River comes into sight and Jackson's Retreat.  I'm just about all in.

The owner up-sells me to a ready pitched tent under cover for $30. It's bigger than my tent, I don't have to pitch it, and there are stretchers with mattresses. I don't take any convincing. The tent is pitched in one bay of a four bay agricultural shed with brush wood divisions; a very nifty set up.

The retreat makes a virtue of it's green credentials. It's all pretty crisp and clean, there are laundry facilities ($6.90 - washed and dried) and great showers (no extra charge).  There's also a few essential items on sale at the office. There is only one camper van in residence whose inhabitants I never see, so it is a very peaceful stay.

The distance for the day is 203km so another (for me) big day.

Wednesday

It's a rough night, with the constant roar of wind in the bush, the slap of canvas, and heavy rain. I decide not to worry about what it means for the ride in the morning on the grounds that if it is too bad I can always turn tail for Greymouth and fly or train out.

The Taramakau Valley runs out of the Alps to the sea between Greymouth and Hokitika.  The Arthur's Pass road travels up this valley before diving off (south) to head up the smaller Otira Valley to the Pass. The wind is strong down the valley so it's slow going. Looking up the Taramakau, the mountain tops are hidden in the mist with runs of snow appearing out of the murk.  The spurs up the valley disappear into what looks suspiciously like rain.

A coal train labours up the valley and soon after a different empty one returns.  The rain sets in lightly giving sufficient excuse to stop at the Otira Hotel (a notice says it is for sale; with or without the town as well).  It's only 20km in but I have an idea what's coming so a cuppa tea is welcome and incidentally the latest (penultimate) America's Cup yacht race is on. 

Shortly after, the train tracks head up valley for the tunnel and the road dives into the Otira Gorge. The climb is brutal; very steep in places with strong winds driving stinging rain down the gully. It takes a long time to get to the top including having to hold onto the barrier at times to avoid being buffeted into the traffic.  

The rain continues solidly for the run down to Arthur's Pass.  The Wobbly Kea is the first place that catches my eye and luckily it has a fire and hot soup on offer.  I find that I am way colder than I had thought and it pretty much takes the rest of the day to recover.  In retrospect I should have put another layer or two on but once on the move there were few stopping places and I knew Arthur's Pass was not far away.

A cyclist stops in, having come in from the opposite direction.  He's having trouble with his crank and there aren't many options this side of Greymouth.  I think he probably ended up catching the bus.  

It's still raining outside and I re-evaluate ... it's about 82km to Springfield over Porters Pass with little in between, the weather looks set, it's a head wind and I already feel pretty knackered.  And there is a train to Christchurch in a little over three hours.  A quick phone call and I'm booked and paid for.  Some texts ensure that Alistair has a spare bed in Christchurch.

Half the time is profitably spent in the rather good DoC centre browsing and chatting to the staff and the rest at the cafe for lunch with a brief pause to chase a couple of kea off the bike.  At the station the coolish waiting room is full of a school trip; mayhem. The disability loo however is toasty warm so I take my time digging out my warmest gear.

Warming up in Arthurs Pass

The train is coming up from the coast but the punters have to bus over the pass as no passengers are allowed in the tunnel.  Some full buses turn up quickly followed by an empty train.  I load the bike, find my seat and settle back as we leave about half an hour late.

After 8 km underground ...

The TransAlpine cycle transporter

The snowy peaks and scree dropping through beech forest is rapidly replaced by wide river flats and lower rounded hills. On the road the buses can be see shadowing the train as they return to Christchurch; seems a bit inefficient really.

Sitting back in the warm and listening to the commentary is pleasant.  The glacially formed landscapes, braided rivers, the famous Cass Station, dramatic Waimakariri Gorge ... All under low cloud and rain. Suddenly after a series of tunnels and viaducts we are on the Canterbury flats passing through intensely green farms to Springfield.

Alistair's head appears above the crowds at Christchurch railway station shortly followed by his large swandri clad frame.  It's great to see him and we head back to Margaret's for dinner and a catch up. Alistair's back is playing up so he sits at the table on a Swiss ball gently bobbing around.  He has some fairly intensive physiotherapy underway including an intriguing procedure involving a plunger and baby oil ... sounds like the sort of thing certain people might pay a lot of money for.

With the yacking it's a late night but I've pretty much recovered from the morning's activities and only travelled 33km over the 920m (ish) pass.

Thursday

It's a bit of a slow start but a sturdy bowl of porridge and fruit is just the thing to go biking on.  Alistair jumps on his bike to take me north along various back routes to avoid the main roads to the edge of town. We say good bye just before the motorway north.

The day starts overcast but soon clears and what wind there is is mostly from behind.  Layers come off and sunscreen goes on, yet the air is nice and cool. Perfect riding conditions.  The one fly in the ointment is the rumble paint on the road edge (which runs a fair length of the ride to Blenheim).  Designed to wake up wandering drivers, it is unrideable on a bike, and has the effect of forcing bikes either onto the rough road edge or into the traffic. 

I've been dreading the ride and State Highway 1 is indeed busy with plenty of trucks.  They pretty much give me a reasonable berth and I potter along for a late lunch from the Cheviot supermarket.  Afterwards I'm refilling my water bottles at the tap outside and the manager points out that Cheviot is on a boil water notice; what sort of District Council have they got!  It's against my inclinations but a bottle of water is a necessary purchase at the next petrol station.

Coming down off a rise I feel a whack on the back of the head as a magpie does a flyby.  There's a few other sorties along the way but that is the only strike.

The ride has been pretty flat with a slow rise up to 75km, then a few blips, but after 142km there's a bit of climbing starting with the Hundalee Hills.  They are not high, but it's a bit of a grunt late in the day.  Finally the road rolls down to the coast at Oaro, there's a haze of sea spray in the air and the smell of the briny.  In the shadow of the hills it is decidedly cool, so the sun light spilling down through the gullies is welcome. In the distance (20km) the Kaikoura Peninsular is a tantalising goal.

As the road hits the edge of the Kaikoura Flats it passes over the Kahutara River; it's high and dirty but the mountains behind are clear and white.

Kahutara River

There are a few options for accommodation. My first choice is the Albatross, at the bottom of the hill in the town centre, and they have a dorm bed available.  It's a Bohemian establishment in the historic post office.  Somewhat rough around the edges they have a good ethic behind what they are doing and give me a discount for "saving the planet" (riding a bike). I nab my bed, grab a complimentary (Trade Aid) hot chocolate and hit the shower. 

It's been a longish day covering 178km so I plumb for dinner at the local Thai restaurant rather than DIY.  This turns out to be NZ Rural Thai - i.e. the authenticity of the dishes is dictated by the availability of ingredients. The noodles fill the gap nicely as does copious water and a beer.

The Albatross library has a small and esoteric collection of books in various languages (most punters seem to prefer their lap tops).  For nostalgic reasons I select a version of "Do androids dream of electric sheep?" that turns out to be missing a few chapters.

That night there is a small miracle; in a room of 6 strange blokes there are no real snorers.

Friday

There are only a few people stirring at the Albatross as I quietly let myself out shortly after 8am. It's a clear and sunny morning, and it feels like a seaside alpine resort, with the snowy hills making their presence felt above the town.  You can see why people might like to holiday and live here. Kaikoura itself seems to be in the middle of an evolution from the old town centre with a few empty shops, to newer shops, restaurants and accommodation along SH1 at the north end of town.

There is a light northerly but not enough to be too much of a hassle. There air is still nice and cool but for a stretch of 4 or 5km is enlivened by the rancid sweat smell of seals. 

Looking south to Kaikoura

Traffic is constant but not too heavy in the morning and the sea haze is ever present.  It's a pretty ride, but after a while becomes a little samey.  The Clarence river heaves into site after about 40km.  But I have a little more interest in reaching my self-promised stop at Kekerenga (The Store) for a late morning snack/lunch. 

The Store

The view (well, some of it)

The wind has got up a bit so it has been slightly heavy going to get here but there's no hurry, which is lucky as service is sloooow.  The food is good though and the setting is stunning; the deck is shaded by native trees and looks over a light green ocean breaking in a very civilised manner on the shingle beach next to an immaculate sward. Looking inland, snow capped mountains stand aloof, and along the coast lush green hills flank the shore.

It seems pretty clear I'll be making Blenheim tonight so I text (a different) Alistair to arrange a meeting time and place, this turns out to be the Cork and Keg in Renwick at 5pm; plenty of time I reckon.

Back on the road I note there are a few stoats as road-kill, I haven't noticed this elsewhere and wonder what is different here.  However, of more immediate interest is the rising northerly and cloud setting in.  This becomes more than just an inconvenience at 75km where two wind turbines spinning enthusiastically mark where the road turns inland and becomes hilly.  The last 68km are hellish.

There are a few necessary breathers, at Ward and Lake Elterwater, and a restorative cuppa in the Seddon tearooms (you could see where the window was replaced after breaking in the earthquake - there are also numerous filled cracks in the road and around a few bridges in the area).

The hills aren't high but the climb into the Awatere Valley and then out via the Redwood Pass is slow and it is looking like I will be close to my rendezvous time.  Once in the Wairau Valley it's nice to know it's flat but despite a relatively modest 143km for the day my head is pretty low when I haul into the pub car-park bang on 5pm.

Alistair has just completed week three of his new career in the wine industry and we head to the pub by the Renaissance Brewery to meet some of his colleagues (although I am hardly of a suitable standard of dress or olfactory wholesomeness for civilised company).  His flat turns out to be the high class home of Linda, who is a power house of drive, building the property up from scratch and running what looks like a tidy pampering business from the address.    It's a comfortable night undisturbed by the strong wind outside.

Saturday

Despite good initial intentions there is no biking today.  We have a leisurely rise to a quiet morning and a stunning 180 degree view south over the Wairau valley. Rows of grape vines run away into the middle distance below the house and the sun casts a constantly changing pattern of relief on the far range.

View from "the flat"

Linda gets in a quick round of weed spraying before breakfast while the wind is low.  She's at something the whole time, and you can see why everything is well organised.  A serendipitous duck egg appears from off the lawn, and later on a large batch of strawberry jam is on the stove.  A chap arrives to do mowing and other jobs, the therapist comes in and Linda gets them all organised, all before 9.  This is our signal to head out, after a shifty around the estate.

We visit a couple of indifferent markets and grab a coffee, before popping in to the i-site and Vino's, where we get an unhesitating recommendation for lunch; Rock Ferry; a good tip.  Good food, very friendly service, and an extensive tasting of their wines from Marlborough and Central Otago.

Alistair kindly offers to drop me to Picton before picking Vicki up from the airport, it's a bit of a relief as I haven't been looking forward to the trip up the busy road into the wind.  The ferry is delayed but a couple of hours at Le Cafe provides dinner and a Renaissance ale to the sound of the evening's band warming up (Anna Coddington?).

There's the usual long wait as they shunt wagons on and off then a calm sailing and that's it.

Pioneer trail - Friday 19 July and trip comments

This is not shaping up to be a pleasurable day biking; a long straight haul down the Wairau and on to Picton, hopefully not into a head wind.

It's light enough as I leave the lodge (and another group of Kayakers gearing up) just before 8. The sun is casting dusky pink light on the top of Mt Robert and there's a wee bit of frost in places. Low mist follows the contours of the farm land with the sun catching the top as it starts to crack through above Tophouse saddle. From the intersection with the Golden Downs Road it's new biking territory for me.

The road drops from the saddle and it's into long flat straights for the next few hours. Not much else to say really; the sun shines up the valley and there is mercifully little wind.

The vineyards start a lot further from Blenheim than I expect but it's quite a while before I see any names I recognise. About three hours after starting I roll into Renwick, buy lunch and eat it in the sun outside a vineyard. It's a busy work day with teams out amongst the bare vines whereas I'm just soaking up the sun. Afterwards I think to check the ferry timetable and regret being quite so leisurely. The 1.05 looks off the cards but the 2pm Bluebridge should be a goer (including a wee stop and taste at the Makana chocolate factory).

Despite a firmish head wind up the valley towards Picton and the usual brutal traffic, it's a little after 12.45 when I enquire at the counter and the chatty woman says yes there is room for a skinny bike and rider on the 1.05. She asks if I felt the 5.7 earthquake centred off Seddon earlier but although everyone else from Christchurch to Wellington seems to have, I didn't.

There's time to sit in the sun and dry sweaty clothes before boarding. After all the rush the boat eventually gets away 40min late. And that's pretty much it. A smooth sunny sailing with food and snoozing as the main past times then the last few Ks home along my usual commuter route in time for the weekend; after a good long soak in the bath that is.

No photos today so here's where I went on Saturday with Angela

Comments

Great fun; some dramatic and isolated countryside without ever being that far from civilisation. A good amount of gravel and off road entertainment although the last day on seal down the Wairau was a little tedious.

Being midwinter meant limited daylight and having to carry heavier gear for the cold, although bar the one windy day the weather was not too bad.

Initially I slightly under-cooked the gear needed to keep feet and hands warm (despite having over booties and mitts). The highest point was only 980m on the Porika track so it was all below the bushline.

I was happy to fork out for roofed accommodation on a number of nights. However, if you were of a mind, many of the forested areas had plenty of scope to find an off road camping spot. Bear in mind though that there are also long stretches of farm land where your tent might not be quite so welcome.
It would have been possible to have done the whole trip without a tent but with the added pressure of having to get to a specific destination each night. For a lighter, faster trip a fly would be viable (bearing in mind the rainfall and flesh eating insects you can get out West).

As with accommodation I was happy to buy food on the way. I carried four days of food but in the end there were plenty of places to buy meals so used most of the breakfasts, little of the lunch snacks and only one dehy dinner.

The bike set up worked fine. The aero bars got good use, particularly on the long straights on the last day. The tent on front was ok and only really affected steering on the very windy day. Slicks weren't a problem on gravel and over the Maungatapu and Porika tracks although if there had been rain
it might have been more interesting.

The two Kiwimaps road maps I carried were ok and covered my whole route but lacked useful detail. I would recommend carrying National park or 1:50,000 maps for off road sections.

Distances

Daily distances were somewhat limited by daylight and cold but a week was plenty of time to not feel rushed. Total Ks on 2 wheels was 704 km from Friday to Friday (with the first Friday as a work day and a day and a half off).

Daily break down:

Friday: Home to work and from Ferry to Aussie Bay; about 30km
Saturday: Aussie to Nelson; 81.4km
Sunday: to St Arnaud; 88.7km
Monday: to Muria; 123.2km
Tuesday: to Westport; 140.7km
Wednesday: Driving day
Thursday: Half day to St Arnaud; 96.8km
Friday: to Picton and Home; 143km

Pioneer Trail - Thursday 18 July

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).

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.

Go to blog for Friday; homeward bound

Pioneer Trail - Tuesday 16 July

At 7am it's dark and there's a good frost. By 810 it's light enough to leave my cosy room and crunch through the frost to the road. There's wispy high cloud but the snowy tops are clear and catching the first light.

Not many photos today so here's an irrelevant shot of
me being cold beside my bike near start of the Porika track

2k up the road a right turn across a frosted bridge over the Muria River leads to the single lane West Bank Road. There's workmen blocking the bridge, one of them with just the top of his head showing where a couple of deck planks have been removed. It's an easy step across carrying the bike to squeeze past their digger.

The road is sealed for a few K then turns to well compacted gravel.  It's essentially an access road for the local farms and probably a little slower than the main road but gets you out of the traffic.  The frost on the farmland is hard and the quiet air is crisp.

The sun soon cracks the ridge providing a boost but little heat so fingers and toes become progressively more numb (number?). The road winds into beech forest with the sun filtering horizontally through the trunks and after dipping and rising eventually drops back to the flats for the run back to SH 65 then SH 7 and Springs Junction.

It's only been about an hour on the road but the cafe is a welcome excuse for a morning coffee. The owner points me to the fire to thaw feet and hands and look north through the large window across the flats to snow clad hills in the distance (possibly Mts Cann above the Glenroy River and Mantell North of the Muria Saddle).

Chatting to one of the waiting staff it turns out that he lives in a cabin nearby and came down from Auckland for the job a couple of months back. I don't imagine the pay is very good and have to admire his willingness to follow a work opportunity into the middle of winter and nowhere. I don't ask where he came from before Auckland but it could be one of the 'stans. He asks where I'm headed but looks blank when I say Inangahua.

Back on the road the sound of 9k up to Rahu saddle is not enticing. However after a short steepish stint it's a reasonably gentle 'up' on a very nice driving road. The traffic is sparse so it's good riding despite a few false tops. The frost limns the beech trees on the approach to the real top which has a DoC sign (Klondyke? route) then a modest AA sign noting 696m.

Now there's about 500m to lose before Reefton, 37 km away. The down hill lasts and lasts. Thick beech hems the road (mind the grit and ice) with mossy bouldered streams appearing from the dim recesses of the forest to join the upper reaches of the Inangahua river. The river bed doesn't look very active as the boulders are lichen covered, suggesting they're not moved about much.

When the road finally drops to farm flats at Craig's Clearing the sun is welcome but is still not enough to thaw the extremities. Down the valley the river is wide with round white rocks. There's plenty of reminders of mining; walks to old workings, the access road to an active gold mine (Oceanagold's Reefton open pit mine) and finally at Black point a museum and associated industry. As it is just 2K through a cold gorge to Reefton, there's no stopping now.

Rounding a corner the road simultaneously breaks into bright sunlight and into the basking township. Although 11.30 is a little early, it's the only lunch option today so after a cruise of the main street my eye falls on the Broadway Tearooms and Bakery. The proprietor has recently returned from a cycling holiday in China and relishes the chance to talk shop with a comrade on wheels.

Nabbing a chair by the heater I'm content to spin my creamy chowder out for much longer than necessary and read the paper. The place is busy by the time I leave.

By my reckoning it's 33K to the Buller Gorge road so I follow SH 69 north along long straights through healthy farmland. On the right the snowy tops of the Victoria and Brunner Ranges and on the left the lower foothills of the Paparoas with Charleston somewhere on the other side. There's plenty of trucks and company utes about suggesting that some parts of the local economy are doing well.

Not having looked at the map recently I am expecting to arrive at the township of Inangahua and the intersection with the Buller Gorge road. Instead there's an intersection, a house, signs pointing to Westport and Murchison but no mention of Inagahua. I find out later that it was just up the road a little.

My plans at this point are a little vague but a trip down to Westport seems to be on the cards. I leave a message on my mate Pete's cell phone and head for the lower Buller Gorge. It's around 2pm so plenty of day left although clouds are lurking in the west. The gorge is busy but I'm given a wide birth and keep pottering along.

Having done the Buller half and Marathon along this route in recent years, I have an eye out for the first familiar landmarks. This comes with a white line across the road with the word "Turn" shortly before Berlins. Then the Ks count down from 8 to the starting point of the Marathon at Hawks crag (they set off up the road to start with).

Hawk's crag and the start of the Buller Marathon

The crag is an iconic spot on the river which has been known to flood the road at this point. Some quick arithmetic confirms that there must be a further 5K to the half marathon start. Sure enough the road markings continue counting and just after 21 I recognise the spot and see another line on the road. Having run this stretch twice it is all familiar now.

The road winds up and down above the deep green river until dropping to the flats. Pete calls but takes some convincing that I am in fact just up the road. He offers to pick me up in the ute but tempting as it is I'm sort of enjoying reliving the route with the km marks ticking up towards 42 so elect to continue; recognising water stops, noting where the piper always stands at the top of a rise and the final down hill, which is where I leave the course today.

It's been a longer day than expected so at 4pm I'm very pleased to be barked at by Cass and to settle on the deck with a cup of tea. We yack until Wendy gets in.  Pete is a long time Coaster; he was teaching at the school and coaching local rugby teams long before we worked together in Wellington.  He has retained that annoying trait of a good teacher; being able to see right through you with a piercing eye.  He wouldn't admit it but he is what he would describe as a bit of a clever bugger.



His garden has fair come on since I was here last, he's been looking after the birds over winter with sugar water so there's a good number about. In particular he points out a quiet little brown shape; it's a fern bird which I would not have noticed amongst the sparrows.

None of the Weka are about but no doubt will make an appearance before long. Some of the Coasters have a bizarre attitude to Weka, treating them with something that goes beyond indifference into contempt. It's a real shame; visitors can see their charm and find them irresistible. There's been mixed success with his neighbours; some are taking a little pride in them now but others haven't got much past the urge to put the dogs on them.

Pete talks about some work he has been doing with DoC and has recently been up the Old Ghost Road which has had some considerable investment poured into it. Definitely something to return to with the bike.

Wendy gets in from work and prepares an absolutely delicious dinner with matching wine (courtesy of a son in law wine maker in a prominent Marlborough vineyard); very welcome after the eclectic eating patterns of recent days.

Go to blog for Wednesday: Knocking around Karamea

Pioneer Trail - Sunday 14 July

It's a lot more comfortable on the lounge floor than in the tent and in the morning the Nelson sun warms Claire's verandah.  Consequently it is a leisurely start at 0920.  On the way up Waimea Road a succession of vintage cars rattle past then its on to the old rail way through Stoke and more suburban streets until emerging at the roundabout for the Appleby Highway.  Travelling up SH 6 to Wakefield into a mild southerly more vintage cars pass, some of which had passed earlier.

It's good to turn left out of the fast (and not so fast) traffic into Eighty Eight Valley Road just on the South side of Wakefield (I could have had a bit less main road travel if I hadn't missed the Higgin's Road turn off in Brightwater).  Eighty Eight Valley Road is a quiet country road following valley flats before a few low hills. About now the wind turns from mild to firm and it starts to be hard work, the clouds gradually squeeze out the sun and it gets cooler. A group of 12 motorbikes roar past but otherwise traffic is light.

It gets a bit busier after the left at the T junction at Hiwipango.  This is also the start of a steady climb into a wind that is gaining in strength. Over the top (429m) there's a cruise west down Reay's Valley to turn south (up the Motueka River) at Golden Downs (290m). The wind is now strong with some gusts causing a bit of grief with the steering; the tent roll catches the wind and flips the bars towards the ditch or the middle of the road.

After 4-5Km the road leaves the Motueka River and starts another climb up Long Gully to 641m and a drop to Kikiwa (487m) to follow up the Motupiko River and finally climb to Tophouse saddle at 726m.

During these hops between catchments, various good reasons start presenting themselves for a stop; adding more layers, a drink, a nibble, and at one point a bit of a lie-down using the carrier bag as a pillow. The long flats become a struggle into the wind and the hills an interminable grind. On the positive side the sun comes out and does it's best to warm my back. Although this stretch of road is regarded as a good ride my memories will not be favourable. With the head down there isn't much time to look at the scenery and when I do there seems to be is a lot of forestry and farming. But the tops draw the eye; there's snow on the near hills and in the distance the Travers and St Arnaud Ranges are pure alpine beauty (and apparently the source of the cold wind).

Traffic is steady but not a problem and is boosted by the vintage cars returning from wherever they've been. The closer to Tophouse, the stronger the wind gets. There's small and not so small branches on the road, twice I hear trees crash down in the distance and once I see from the corner of the eye something large topple in the bush nearby. The wind rises further and after being blown off the road and into the middle it is clear that riding is downright dangerous so the last 2K to the intersection are a trudge beside the bike, having to stop and brace periodically. Hearing the sound of the wind roaring through the row of trees at the junction it is amazing that they can stand up to it.

With the change in direction it's a chance to try riding again. The run into St A's is erratic, varying from scooting in front of the wind, occasional unexpected forays into the rough or middle and frequently stopped and braced waiting for a gust to pass. At last roofs come into view and it's a cruise to find a hot meal and investigate accommodation options (I don't fancy either testing the tent or the noisy night this would entail).

The Alpine Lodge is the first thing to catch my eye, it has a pack backers and I'm happy to be sole occupant in a 6 bed dorm room (incl shower token) for $29. The hosts are very welcoming and noting my condition suggest a hot stew in the bar. Perched by the fire the stew warms the parts the fire can't reach and a shower finishes the job.

Looking southish to St Arnaud Range

There's a kayaking group in and the corridor has that smell that you hope isn't coming from your feet (the row of wet suit booties may have something to do with it). A short lie down turns into a nap then it's time to pop across to the bar for a Sprig & Fern IPA and light dinner (Kofkas). These are good and any fears that there wouldn't be enough is dispelled as soon as they arrive; 4 tasty sticks with herbed yogurt, two flat bread wedges served on a simple salad and couscous ($14). There isn't even a grain of couscous left lurking under the cutlery by the end. The hosts are amazingly polite, attentive and the up sell is done with grace and no pressure. And they only have craft beer on tap!

A short yak to the kayakers before bed before 9. They had meant to go up Lake Rotoroa but the wind made it impossible. There is also news about how fierce the weather has been in Wellington however my room is comfortable and warm (and smells less than the corridor).

Go to blog for Monday: St Arnaud to Muria

Pioneer Trail - Friday 12 July and Saturday

Having built up enough annual leave to appear as a liability on the financial spread sheet, a bit of a mid-winter get away is in order to get the Corporate Director off my case. There's some nice landscape in the top half of the South Island so the plan is a rough loop encompassing a chunk of back country South and West of St Arnaud.  The Kennett Bro's Classic New Zealand Cycle Trails book section on the Pioneer Trail provides the bones of the plan but not being particularly enamoured with the idea of ending up in Greymouth I have things worked out as far as Inangahua and figure to make it up from there.

However, [spoiler alert] below is a link to a Google map with (hopefully) most of the ground covered marked.  It's a horrible map package to use i.e. the map insists it knows best and refuses to listen to what I actually did and keeps getting corrupted, or maybe I just can't find my way around it properly.  Anyway, there are a few deviations from what actually happened e.g. I never travelled the road between Inangahua and Lyell despite what it shows.  The route

Bike set-up

Most of the trip will be on the road but with a fair bit of gravel and a couple of rougher off road sections (Maungatapu Saddle and the Porika track); on balance I plump for my hard tail Giant XTC2 MTB with road slicks and aero bars.  Gear consists of a medium size Vaude back pack, a single seat post mounted dry bag, two drink bottles, and a tent and seat bag strapped to the aero bars.  The intention is to carry as much gear as possible in the dry bag on road riding days and in the back pack on days with off road riding; this means less stress on the mounting bracket on the rough stuff (reducing the chance of the tail wagging the dog).  The tent on the bars does affect steering but you get used to it.

The set up

Friday

Wellington has been copping a bit of a filthy Southerly so it's a soggy arrival at work on Friday with the bike packed for the road.  A few final purchases during lunch (sunscreen(!) and critical maps). Sally helpfully points out the weather forecast deteriorating into storm warnings and possible snow but past-self has very cleverly backed future-self into a corner by booking a non-refundable ticket. The last hour before extraction is carnage as various people with very important matters queue for attention.

With a bit of rallying around from office colleagues I'm only 10 minutes late for the half hour wait before the announcement the ferry is delayed.  I'm the only bike that skates into the maw of the Arahura so there's plenty of room to tie up. Upstairs for a chicken dinner and a few house keeping items before settling hopefully in for a snooze through the crossing. 

Picton has cold Southerly rain but the wind isn't too bad. The 14K trip along the Grove track to Aussie Bay is slow as visibility is poor and the banks in a couple of places are starting to cross the road. The edge is hard to see with little marking and sheets of water but only two cars pass during the entire trip so it's OK following the centre line.  Soon enough I'm poking around the camp looking for the least sodden tent site. This turns out to be the same spot I had last time and next to the only other occupants in a van. The rain has stopped and by 11 I'm in the pit and wondering how long it will take my feet to warm up.

Saturday

There's a bit of rain during the night and the stream keeps up a constant background noise.  But the morning is calm and there is no trouble sleeping in until after 8.  A bank of mist hides Anakiwa across the bay and my vanly neighbours make some small talk from the window of their toasty haven.

It is a cold ride along Queen Charlotte Drive. The low pass before Havelock is damming back thick mist which spills over and runs down into the sound but clears shortly after crossing the Kaituna River. A little after 10am Pelorus heralds a much anticipated hot chocolate and warm up. The cafe has pretty good food and ice creams and they run the camping ground so I figure it's worth supporting them wherever possible.  A young lass skips out of a car just in front of me and turns out to be the new (and late) kitchen hand. She serves under the tutelage of the proprietoress after a reminder about timeliness. 

With gear still wet from last night and the cold air, hands and toes are numb so a few more layers are added before heading out and up the now familiar Maungatapu valley. The sun appears and just before the climb it's warm enough to remove mitts and booties (as well as letting the tyres down a bit; I can remember some clay sections and slicks are probably going to be a bit marginal). In the end the track is not too slippery so there's no pushing required until the track steepens after murderers rock, then there's a lot of pushing and its a relief to get to the top. 

The stop is brief as the sun has long gone and there's ice in the wind.  It is long enough though to cadge accommodation for the night from cousin Claire.  The descent is good fun and made slightly more interesting by the brake pads starting to make loud noises and me forgetting to unlock the front forks. There's a bit of up and down along the reservoir before the run out down the Maitai Valley.

Looking west from a dim and chilly Maungatapu Saddle

The Bicycle Business bike shop on Halifax street is just about to close but very kindly agree to fit new break pads front and back on the spot and I take the chance to buy their warmest gloves.  Around the corner a handy Macpac sale provides a beanie and thicker socks and there's still plenty of time to do some bike maintenance, have a hot shower and get some drying underway before an excellent dinner with a couple of friends of Claire's (Kirsty and Ian).

The first day hasn't covered quite as much ground as I would have hoped but the bike set up was fine over the Maungatapu track and the weather was cold but not wet.  The over booties, socks and winter gloves I had are fine for winter commuting just not quite up to the job on longer days so the early stop in Nelson allowed some necessary shopping.  I should have picked up the worn brake pads before departure; a bit sloppy.

Go to Sunday blog; Nelson to St Arnaud