Sunday 8 December 2013

Mini Brevet

I hadn't even heard of a 'brevet' until earlier this year.  If you want a definition you can click here to check out the Wiki page on Randonneuring (also known as Audax).  Suffice to say it involves long distances on bicycles.

There are a few domestic examples, probably the most famous of which would be the Kiwi Brevet around the top of the South Island and the Great Southern Brevet around MacKenzie country/lakes/Central Otago.  Both are in the vicinity of 1,100 km of on and off road riding.  You pretty much fend for yourself and can stay in anything from 5 star hotels to roadside drains.  I think the purists tend to say that you shouldn't use any support that is not available to other riders, so staying in your mate's lakeside mansion in Queenstown is possibly frowned upon in some quarters.

The idea of doing one has been tickling the inside of my skull ever since I heard about them and accordingly, in a few cycle trips earlier this year I picked up sections of the Kiwi Brevet to see what it might be like.  So ... an item on a bike shop website for a 'Mini Brevet' starting from Petone as a bit of warm up training for the two fore mentioned classics stirred my interest.  A few enquiries elucidated that details were sketchy and organisation seemed pretty casual - also that it was the weekend after Taupo.  I shelved the idea while focussing on Taupo.

Taupo safely out of the way (see previous post) my interest in the Mini increased as the memory of lactic acid in the legs faded during the week.  By Thursday the only thing that was really putting me off was the horrendously windy weather forecast.

The original proposal was to follow the coast from Petone to Wairarapa, cross to the Pinnacles on the road to Ngawi, head up through the Haurangi crossing to Waikuku lodge (not as flash as it might sound), eventually emerging in Martinborough, take the main roads to Featherston then down to Cross Creek and over the incline and down the river trails to Petone again.

Unfortunately, despite the PM opening the cycle track, the owners of Orongorong station clearly hadn't read the news and are still being sticky about access.  The route was therefore amended to head up the valley and take the hilly option into the incline before continuing as before.  All up about 255 km with the option of caning it in one day or staying wherever the fancy took you (both drains and hotels being in the offing).

The organiser, Barryn, sent me a cue sheet with pretty good blow by blow instructions during the week so all that was left was to front up on the day.

The plan

Initially I had an idea of trying to get around in a day but if I was too knackered then to bivvy up somewhere (forecast was consistently predicting 15degrees night time temperature) or get a bed in Martinborough.  Another likely possibility is that I find that I haven't recovered from the previous weekend's exertions as well as I might have thought so I could ring home command for a strategic extraction.  Anyway, I figure I can get away without lugging a sleeping bag and tent around.

Start

The starting point is less than 3km from home so I potter down on the bike in good time.  I see a bike by a van (good sign) but nothing else.  Then a tall chap with wild hair wanders over, it's Barryn and he is most definitely not dressed for cycling.  It turns out that he's recovering from some historic damage and wont be riding the trip with us.  Slowly more bikes turn up until we have about 12; some of which have ridden from the other side of Wellington (apparently there were also one or two late starters).  The weather forecast seems to have scared off a fair few shrinking violets.

There's a real mix with some loaded for action and a few as light as me.  I'm pleasantly surprised to see Julie and Thomas turn up but there's no-one else I recognise.

We chat until just before 8am when Barryn decides he may as well set us off more or less on time.  After a group photo we set off in single file up the river trail and into the teeth of a fierce nor-wester (which pretty much maintains its enthusiasm throughout the trip).


12 fine specimens

Cross Creek

The Hutt river trail is pretty familiar but has it's interesting moments.  Including the delightful passage past Stokes Valley and a couple of sections I hadn't seen before in Upper Hutt.  Anyway, they keep us off the road until a brief stint up Plateau road to tunnel gully where we join the old railway route at Station Drive.  As we are traversing the incline twice this weekend, Barryn has decided to turn us right and over the hill at the end of Station Drive.  We grind up to the top then fly down the other side to join the main track.  It's a bit drizzly at times and windy but nothing worth getting a jacket out for.

On the hurtle down from the top tunnel I pass someone familiar coming up; turns out it was Barryn - didn't recognise him in the helmet; it seems he will be joining us at strategic points.  Also coming up are about 100 soldiers in little groups (there's probably a military name for them).  They scatter when one of their number calls "bike!"  Fortunately, they always get the message just in time as I'm flying with little prospect of stopping.  At the back is an older gentleman without a pack and carrying a walking stick - probably for beating recalcitrant recruits.

Pirinoa

From Cross Creek the route turns right and down beside lack Wairarapa, the wind is now blasting off the hills and pushing the bike sideways.  There's no other bikes in view until I catch up with a chap (Geoff) that started with us but has to be home tonight so is going to come back via the coastal route (sh!).  We say good bye at the East-West access road where I take the long and fairly boring road across the valley with the wind making it less than pleasant until the turn towards Lake Ferry (then we skip along).

Pirinoa is a tiny settlement (no - it's the "gateway to the coast") between Martinborough and Lake Ferry and a little before the road east to Cape Palliser and Ngawi.  It has a wonderful old-school general store that still sells petrol and has unfinished wooden shelving and counter.  It's quite sizeable with plenty of choice - well worth supporting.

As I pull in about 1240, the lead cyclist from our group (Dave) is finishing a pie, he's travelling lighter than me and is set on doing the whole loop in a day (as far as I know he made it).  He pushes off as I head in for an iceblock.  Simon and another Jeff and a few others pull in just before I leave and make a bee line for the pie warmer.

Haurangi Crossing

The gnarly part of the trip runs from near the pinnacles on the south coast up and down and up and down and up and up to about 750m then down to 240m then up again to 500m at the end of Haurangi Road (the saddle up the road from Waikuku Lodge - about 23km ride from the coast).  A fair proportion is too steep to ride and parts are a bit overgrown so it's basically tedious.  Anyone that tries to convince you otherwise is probably not your friend.

It's pretty hot but the wind keeps clouds scudding across and the temperature down. There's one spot where it's not clear where the track runs - I wait for a bit until a few other riders turn up and we have a good old confab until someone turns up that has been through before and points definitively in the right direction (the one that I had picked based on my topo map).

East from Haurangi crossing towards the Orongorongos

From the high point there is a rocky, bike bending downhill chute which has been known to eat trail bikes (i.e. mine).  A few ride it but I'm behind someone that stops so the choice is taken away.  It is followed by quite a nice section of track for a couple of kilometres along a ridge before the final plummet to Turanganui River East Branch.  At this point I am travelling with Andrew who decides to head left a few hundred metres to Sutherland hut where he intends to stay (as do a number of others in the end).  I follow the 4WD wrecked track up valley aways where I come across Barryn and Julie who have come in to meet us. 

Dave of course has long since disappeared into the distance.  A few of us team up and head out for Martinborough (Simon:  "I want to go somewhere that has beer").

By this time I'm feeling pretty knackered and know there is no chance of a late night arrival at home so revert to the 'find a bed in Martinborough' plan.  The wind pushes us around a bit on the way down the long gravel road but as it is a net drop of about 450m I can keep things ticking over and keep Trevor and Jill in sight.  I'm impressed with their level of energy and find out later that Jill has won the Coast to Coast four times.

The shadows are long beside us as we head into Martinborough but there is still plenty of daylight left at around 730pm.  Time enough for a few beers then sortie out to find the Thai restaurant as the best option for dinner.  "We" at this point is Barryn, Trevor and Jill (who turn out to be good friends of Barryn) and other Jeff.  

My digs are at the Top Ten camp site and I have a very comfortable cabin to myself.  As I check in around 9.45pm (as the proprietress is just about to go to bed) a dishevelled cyclist turns up - another one of our number who must have been doing it tough.  After 172km I'm pretty happy to wash the grime off and crawl between clean sheets.

And Home

Up at 6 and on the road by about 6.50.  Breakfast consists of a chocolate OSM crumbled up and soaked in milk in the fridge over night then microwaved.  It is not quite as revolting as it sounds and much better than eating it straight.

The nocturnal noises are borne out - the wind is fierce.  It's a long slog across the valley into it but that's why they invented aero bars.  I spot Barryn, camper van and company by the Ruamahanga river and later he toots as he drives past half an hour later.  As expected he has stopped in Featherston so we chat for a bit.  He notes that Simon and Jeff left earlier and that as there is no welcoming committee in Petone this will be the last I see of him for this trip.

Turning south at Featherston it's the familiar trip down to Cross Creek with the brutal cross wind.  Still, should be used to it by now.  From here there's the long grind up the incline into rainbows and light drizzle.

I catch up with Jeff shortly after the top tunnel and we scoot along at a good clip.  This time the route mercifully does not take us over the hill but around the more traditional route to Station drive and through to the last tunnel to Maymorn where we have the final (and fortunately very short) hill.  Here we catch up with Simon giving him a hell of a fright.

Rejoining the river trail is a signal that it's getting close to the home stretch.  Simon finds another gear and skips ahead around Avalon while Jeff and I continue at a more reasonable pace (he is riding back to Wadestown).

About 4 hours after leaving Martinborough I wheel through the gate with water having run out some time ago.  It's great to rest weary, filthy legs.

Post Script

We head out for lunch at Mike and Angela's and on the way back see Andrew heading along the Hutt road and another one of the group just coming off the bridge over the river.  I assume Julie and Thomas got out from Sutherland hut okay.  The following day Barryn confirms he thinks everyone got home.

All up it was quite an experience.  It wasn't a route I had thought of trying in a weekend and I have to say I wouldn't choose to do the Haurangi crossing again owing to the amount of pushing. However, once the coast road is open it will create some interesting possibilities for round trips.

Saturday 30 November 2013

Taupo Enduro

1.00am on a side street in Taupo ... A gaggle of riders grows to a bunch and finally a throng but never quite a horde. All up, from 100 registered for the enduro; 95 start and 80 finish (5 presumably took one look at the forecast and stayed in bed; but no-one ever mentioned what happened to the other 15).


1am: is it breakfast or a midnight snack?


The organisers have you at the starting line in plenty of time to stand around contemplating how much you wish you hadn't missed that last 250km training ride and what a large number 320 is, however, no point fretting now.  The night is mild and the wind, which every knows is going to come, is for now quiet.  Retina-burning bike lights and flouro banish any night sight you might have had.


Get ready

Get set

Go (to the start)

Iona's friend Helen and riding companion Avril are in the starting grid and we chat briefly, the only other familiar face is Craig from tramping club.  He is not riding this year due to broken ribs and other injuries sustained after hitting a wombat (man can they fight when cornered).

After a cursory (and mostly patently obvious) safety briefing, the man with the hooter blows a blast and the field sets off with a clatter of shoes clipping into pedals.  Nervous energy is at last transformed into kinetic energy for the crucial first few kilometres where you have to make sure you get in the right bunch.

Rolling the clock back

It's hard to say when the idea first took form that two laps of the lake were even remotely feasible.  In retrospect it was probably the thought of doing a brevet and consequent to that; the realisation that in order to even contemplate such exertion I had better be able to knock off a solid day's road riding.

Angela had got a bit of a taste for road riding by then and didn't need any encouragement to sign up for a lap.  Richard was initially up for a double but then the reality of operating a family, a job, several voluntary commitments and a home brew empire saw him also committing to a single.  One more possible starter fell at the first hurdle but nevertheless we had our team and a house in Taupo booked.

I didn't tell many people that once wasn't going to be enough this year.  After all, if I failed to even complete the training it would be a little embarrassing.  Consequently, Angela was somewhat surprised on the Friday afternoon in Taupo that a) I was trying to get to bed by 6pm, and b) that this was because my start group was at a heinously early hour and c) that this was in order to fit in two laps.  And she thought my training rides were mad.

Anyway, long story short ... lots of training, many punctures, more chafe than you can shake a tub of vasoline at ... yahdee yahdee yah ... Fast forward to ...

Lap One

The throng of bikes whoosh out of Redoubt Street and down the hill to the bottom of the first wee climb.  At this point the tactics are: keep the pace up, get in a good bunch then stick with them as long as possible; drop to a slower bunch if the pace is too fast but, please god, not a solo first lap because that will be slow and burn too much energy.

Far ahead, a small bunch of lights disappear into the night marking the tails of the superhuman contingent.  No point trying to catch them.  A wee plug of effort and I pull in with a bunch and soon more riders join.  We end up with 20 or so pretty much for the entire lap including a tandem.

The night is pitch black with a occasional spats of drizzle.  Some of the smarter riders have their support crew stopping at regular points to replace their bottles.  Otherwise there is little to mark the passing kilometres.  The ride truncates into glimpses of familiar landmarks and the back wheel of the bike in front.  Down hills are somewhat exciting; roaring down in close formation with limited visibility and hoping nothing appears on the road in front of your wheel.

Every now and then a lone pink capped cyclist appears out of the gloom.  These are the four lap maxi riders and we pay them appropriate homage as we pass.

On the downs and the flats the tandem whistles off with riders trying to catch the wheel before the pack reels them back in on the next hill.  It provides a focal point for the group and is never far from the front.

It's still pitch black as the group climbs Kuratau hill - looking back from the top there is a string of brilliant cycle lights marking the line of the road.  At Waihi hill the front of the pack gets ahead and I have the presence of mind to put in the effort to make sure I catch a group on the flat straight to Tokanu.  Only a bit over 200km to go.

The new bike light is doing a sterling job on the lowest setting but the indicator light has gone from green to blue; whatever that means.  Still it's not red which would probably be bad.  In any event I am carrying a head torch that will work perfectly well (in the end the main light holds out fine with daylight catching us long before Hatepe hill).

Coming up the lake the wind has got up, buffeting us from the side (west) and the early light catches white caps on the lake.  An Aussie pulls up beside and says what I am thinking - the next lap might be a bit tough.

The pack is circulating well and I take my turns at the front.  But coming up Hatepe Hill I realise, almost too late, that it has started to separate and once more a bit of effort is required to catch the front group just as they are pulling away at the top.  For now it doesn't bear thinking about what it will feel like coming up here after another 160km.

The traditional head wind greets us on the way down the hill but at the back of the pack I tuck in away from the worst of it.  From here to Taupo the wind is boisterous but the bunch clips along before being decimated as a few of us peel off to replenish supplies/ go for a wee etc in the town.

Our accommodation is ideally situated just off the water front and it's a startled Sally that sees me pull in about 0620 (about 4hr 45 after starting and 45 minutes before she was expecting me).  Allowing another 5 minutes to reach the end of the lap this is almost 20 minutes faster than my best single lap; I don't think about what this says about the foolishness of over doing it on the first time round.

Angela and Iona have already left on their lap and Richard is just getting ready to think about sauntering down to the start line.  We compare notes as I cram a banana in and Sally does the pit crew thing (strip lights off the bike, replenish goody bag and water bottles, supply sunscreen etc).


Pit stop; counting the bike


And he's off (again)

It's a grey windy morning as I zigzag through town to avoid the starters on the main street and get to the start of ...

Lap two

Amongst the bikes cruising the streets I spot a lone enduro cap and catch him on the edge of town in the hope we can team up.  He must be tuckered after the first lap though as he drops behind on the rise out of Taupo.  Half way up, there is a roar from behind as the elite riders scream past up the hill.  They are absolutely flying and the sound of their tyres on the road is fearsome.  As they disappear in a twinkling of lycra clad bums, a green cap rider (8 laps) comes into view toiling up the hill.  He looks at me with wide eyes as I pass and says "F*** that was scary!"  Given that he has probably been hallucinating for the last two days that's really saying something.

The trip west across the top of the lake is hellish.  It's a strong head wind and the only riders in sight are group 9 (sort of like group W if you are familiar with Arlo Guthrie).  I catch up with four enduros; two team up for a while but when it dawns that they have been letting me lead for longer than is polite, I look back and realise they have dropped off some time ago.

The tail end of the group W riders are a sad but admirable bunch.  The first stragglers are mostly well padded and I wonder at the woman pushing her bike up a gentle rise after less than 20km.  Surely they wont be finishing within the cut off time but at the same time how incredibly brave to try.  Then there are the two people on unicycles and one on a penny farthing; they are making reasonable progress though and look like they are aware of what they are in for.

Around the first relay interchange (40ish K) the main race route rejoins the road I am on.  I'm hoping that there will be some of the early bunches coming through and if I can just catch one of those ...

The first bunch whistles around the corner when I'm about 100m away and disappears off up the hill - Bugger!!  I carry on alone whipping past increasingly spritely group W riders.

It's a long while before the next group comes through and I manage to catch their tail.  Things are looking up now but I have spent a lot of energy fighting the wind on my own.  After awhile I drop to the back and then let them get ahead.  A while later another group comes along and I hold them for a good distance, finally being spat out the back just before Kuratau hill.  It's very dispiriting to see 50 to 100 bikes riding away and not a damn thing you can do about it.

From then on it's pretty much solo, occasionally a pair and every now and then a bunch that I can hold onto for a few kilometres.

Finally it's the second drop down Waihi hill with no-one to get in the way and the utter relief of knowing that the worst of the hills are done with.  A passing single lapper gives a couple of kilometres respite but I drop off when I realise that I wont be able to share the lead.  It would be a bit rude to just be a leech.  

Another single lapper catches up and draughts me into Turangi and onto SH 1.  After a bit I get fed up and pull to the side and slow so that he has to take the front.  He gets the hint and we swap the lead for the next 15km.  Just as I'm about to drop behind a bunch catches and keeps things ticking along for a bit longer.  However for the last 40kms I have to let each bunch pass as there just isn't enough left in the tank to hold on.

I've just dropped off the back of the latest pack on the approach to Hatepe hill.  A pistol shot rings out and the rider behind and I simultaneously let loose the same expletive.  His back tyre has just blown and so is the only one in that bunch that I beat up the hill. It's the first time I have been completely out paced on this hill and when I get to the top I promise myself a stop at the drink station.  It's a chance to refill a bottle, lie flat for a few minutes and regather.  One of the woman keeps asking if I'm OK so I suspect I look a bit crap.

The wind is even stronger now and knocks riders around on the drop to the lake and along the shore to Taupo.  The start of the ten kilometre count down though is the point when it really is apparent that it's almost all over.

The gentle airport rise is ridiculously hard but then it's into the Taupo streets and there are plenty of sights to distract a tired mind from the complaints of tired legs.

Over the last rise the westerly careens gleefully along the straight and slap into the face of the riders.  The maximum speed left in the legs is just enough to get to the chute and then the crowd carries me to the finish (not literally - that would be cheating).

As usual, the end of these events is emotional.  From about 20km out finishing suddenly seems possible, at 10km it seems probable but there's still a bit of work to do, at about 3km it seems imminent if the body can just hold up.  For the last kilometre it is certain; anticipation builds to a peak, the line flicks by then everything crashes into overwhelming relief.  The normally stoic Richard confirms this when be returns from his ride; confessing to be close to a wee tear when he crossed the mat.

This time is no exception, as the line flicks by the loud speaker welcomes one of "our enduro riders", mispronounces my name and says I'm from Auckland.  I make a beeline for the pineapple while Sally rallies around with ministrations ready should they be needed.


Mr someone unpronounceable from Auckland


There are two things on mind now; a patch of grass to lie on and not moving my legs for a good wee while.




Results

I had set out with the stated aim of coming in below 12 hours and that I would be pretty happy with 11:30.  In training I had completed a loop in 5:30 (excluding a 20 minute break) mostly solo but had been shattered by the time I came around to Turangi again and stopped for the day.  On this basis there was a glimmer in the back of the mind that 11 might be a possibility but pretty unlikely.  On the lead up week the forecast wind didn't bode well for a good result.

The results on the web record my stats as:

10hr 52m 53s

18th of 80 enduro finishers
17th of 70 male finishers
7th of 35 in the male 45 to 54 division

But I choose to think that if I was a woman I would have come second.

But it's not actually all about me

Iona and Angela have decided to team up for their lap.  Iona is an experienced hand at this event but is notable for treating it with less respect than some might consider appropriate (ignoring start time groups, neglecting to scan her timing strip at the start, carrying a picnic, stopping for coffee ...) but enjoying the occasion and coming back for more. Angela on the other hand is a first timer and only aware how horrendous the western hills can be (but did conquer Hatepe in training).



In the end Angela discovers that those commutes up Ngauranga gorge have put more steel in her legs then she realised and although Iona sets the pace through the hills, Angela is anxious to push on for the end and leaves her to her second coffee at licorice cafe (around the 120km mark).  This is all after they are collectively told off for fronting up at 6am for a group they haven't registered for - still, the organisers aren't about to kick someone out of group W are they?

Angela's lap is interspersed with helpful people (including bystanders) diagnosing the noise from her bike and suggesting she should really get it seen to.  Iona on the other hand is asked if she has beer in her pannier ("yes if the price is right!").

Competitor 1270; leading the pack
The wind is strong up the lake but Angela has the bit between her teeth by now and keeps on despite the buffeting.  Rolling in to the finish she is greeted by her enthusiastic support crew (just) and is quite rightly proud of her achievement, trimming time off her training ride from Taupo to Turangi a few weeks back with 7hr 49m.

Richard wanders in looking not particularly tired but a bit sun burnt.  He has employed admirable tactics at the start, first by pushing into a higher start group ("Honestly sir, they had run out of stickers at the desk when I went to swap groups"), then by catching a fast bunch off the start and holding onto them for most of the ride and picking up the next group when he got spat out the back.

He has positively relished his first real taste of bunch riding; revelling in the close calls when drink bottles appear on the road out of the scrum of bikes in front; the roar of fast bunches scorching past and the adrenalin of travelling at 40+km/hr 6 inches behind the wheel in front with someone on each shoulder.  At 4hr 58m 26s his is an impressive debut.  He and Suzie head off for the hot pools to ease tired legs (Suzie having usefully used the day with a trail run up to Huka falls).

Angela, Mike and I potter around to Iona's motel to greet her and then Helen.  Helen has done the double for the second year and is (as last year) quite chipper.  We had met up briefly at the starting line but not since.  Her riding companion Avril turns out to have had an off after they got separated on the course, to the extent that St John's had to scrub out the gravel rash but not enough to keep her from finishing (apparently completely in character for her).

It is a very satisfied bunch that sit down to a very fine dinner (courtesy of Richard and Suzie) back at the house.  Richard, Angela and I have ridden further then we have ever ridden in a day in our lives before and all in better time than we had dared hope.

Iona and Col pop around a bit after 7pm for a social call but Toby is the only one not in bed so they quietly leave us to our twitching slumbers.

Taupo

Once again Taupo has out done itself.  The place is humming when we arrive early afternoon Friday after a leisurely drive up.  There are people everywhere busy on something to do with the cycle events.  And on the day they must have everyone in Taupo and their uncle directing traffic, holding flags, dispensing water, and doing the million other jobs required so that 9,000 odd cyclists can complete their personal event and get their personal time and be picked up in their personal ambulance should that be necessary.

Replete do a passable iced coffee (note the date on the cap)

Our accommodation (Tui House) is better than hoped for with a large double garage to work on bikes, heaps of space and designed such that the early risers don't need to disturb those still abed. It's about 100m off the water front so perfect to stop in between laps.

We potter out to pick up our registrations and wander through the stalls which are selling everything for those last minute cycling needs.  The Kennetts have a table with their books and we chat briefly with Paul and Jonathon.

The army band have come in for the weekend so Sally gets the benefit of their playing whilst waiting for weary cyclists at the finishing line on Saturday, she is also treated to the sights of the gent who ran for twenty minutes in bare feet to get his bike over the finishing line and another chap who finished then had to be carried to St John's with his no longer functional legs dangling below.  There's plenty of other entertainments available but we are quite self contained and our only social engagements are pottering around to the Acapulco motel where Iona and Col and Helen and Mandy are staying - somewhat of a tradition for them.

On the Sunday we complete what is another tradition - breakfast at Replete Cafe (nee Gusto cafe): early arrival, nab two tables and hold until reinforcements arrive.  It's good food and coffee and a nice bookend to the event.  Afterwards we disperse to various points of the compass in the southerly direction.

Comments, lessons and technical bits

Pace

The first lap was (for me) at a scorching pace and the second much slower with a hard,wrung out finish. Tactically it might have been smarter to get a slower group from the start but I doubt it would have been as efficient.  The thing that killed the second lap was having to do so much of it solo.  If I hadn't stopped between laps I may well have stayed with a group and got around the second lap in better time.  This would have required different support arrangements.  Ideally you would have supporters around the course on lap two but support vehicles are not supposed to be on the course at this point.

Hydration

Two bottles of water and one of electrolyte on lap one.  Two electrolytes and one water with a top up for lap two.  Seemed to work OK.  On a warmer day I would have wanted more electrolyte on lap two.  Practically this means having supporters en-route or carrying sachets and topping with water.

Nutrition

The nutrition plan was OK except for the reliance on One Square Meals (OSMs), here it is for future avoidance:
Mac cheese for dinner at 6pm ish.  No problems here.

Carbo loading


Two Weetbix and a little bit of muesli for brekky an hour before riding.  No problems here either.
Lap 1:  Two OSMs and two bumper bars chopped into bite size pieces (ate about two thirds), one banana.  Bars were a little hard to eat but pre-cutting worked well.
Half time:  Banana and water
Lap 2: Same for bars plus two bananas.  Couldn't eat much of the bars through feeling nauseous.   Bananas were good.  One gel for a bit of a pick me up for last 20k.

Bike

Merida Scultura Carbon fibre something or other.  Love it.  After training on a cast iron relic it's a dream to ride on the day.  If only I knew of a light weight seat that didn't feel like concrete after 200km and doesn't remove skin from tender places by the end of 320k.  Repair kit and two spare tubes in a seat bag (fortunately not required).  Bar bag for nibbles worked well.  Brand new Blaze bike light worked very well.  One charge was enough on low beam which was more than bright enough for road riding.  Very happy with performance, will see about durability.  Probably not suitable for brevets due to need to recharge. 

Clothing

The weather was not cold or forecast to be cold so I went light and everything was basically fine - the weather would have had to vary significantly from forecast to have been a problem ...

Bike shoes with out socks (as they are too tight and I'm too cheap to buy new shoes); worked fine, no rubbing and no squashing (which I get even with light socks) - I had booties standing by but left them at the house although other riders wore them.  Cheap Route 7 '8 panel' bike shorts; OK but felt a little like sandpaper from half way through lap two - (not sure what shorts wouldn't though - also see comments on bike seat).  Lap one top: marino shortsleeve top, light marino long sleeve base, light OR rain jacket, flouro vest; worked fine, only need to pull zip down on Hatepe. Lap 2 top: removed jacket and base, kept jacket in pocket - a bit cool when it drizzled but basically OK - didn't have to put the jacket on.  Gloves: mid-weight fingered - fine both laps.  Arm warmers could have been useful on lap two.

Training

Must have done just enough.  Given difference in lap times probably need to concentrate a bit more on stamina.  A 17 week schedule off a reasonable fitness base seemed to be about right and I tried to stick to it using my commute as the core with various interesting routes to spice it up, and a longer ride each weekend aiming for a good handful over 200km.  However things faded a bit in the last few weeks somewhat, including missing the final scheduled 250km ride.  A couple of bike tours were useful additions for time in the saddle and multi day riding (plus a bundle of fun that didn't feel like training).  Should really do more fartlek training (repeated bursts of effort) but can't rustle up the discipline.

Support

Last but not least ... not having to worry about pick up and drop offs, having things ready at half time, meals before and after sorted out, reminders of things which must not be forgotten (like applying chafe cream), waiting at the end in case legs don't work for walking any more ... all those myriad things that mean you can just think about getting the bike and body ready.  Priceless!  Last three years it was DIY for me but the support this time made a world of difference.  Also, of course, the company of comrade cyclists in adversity.

We wont mention the support team that arrived late at night waking their rider on the eve of the big event ... got up too late to see them off to the start then almost missed them at the finish line ... tsk tsk ; )

Saturday 2 November 2013

Taupo training ride (again)

Solo road ride

It's getting close (four weeks) to the Taupo ride and I've been meaning to get at least one big ride in of over 250km including a couple of passes over the most hilly part of the course.  This weekend is it.

Sally very kindly volunteers to come and provide support which means we get to stay somewhere nice.  The Judge's Pool in Turangi is a good choice and considerably more private than the A Plus Sumarai Lodge Back Packers from two weeks back.

There's no drama getting out of Wellington and up to the motel shortly before midnight then straight into bed. The next morning we wake 11 hours and 56 minutes before the time for which I set the alarm (6.30 pm) and head up the road to Taupo.

A quick lube and tyre pump then Sally waves me off about 0800 and heads off in search of coffee. 

A quick lube,




And he's off

Judging by the photos she finds at least two sources of the brown nectar as well as Huka falls and numerous other spots to take pictures of the wee white car. 

Wee white car by coffee cart at lake

Huka falls


Huka falls

Huka falls car park

Lake view on way back to Turangi


I on the other hand am intending to follow the other route across the top of the lake this time but am a little vague about the correct turn off to get to SH 32.  Fortunately I catch a cyclist who knows the area and she points me in the direction of Marotiri Road.  Not before we pass a severely mashed ute that has just lost an argument with a milk tanker, which would explain the ambulance 10 minutes back. 

The first part of the course climbs steadily but reasonably gently for over 15 km; the air is decidedly cool and the westerly wind firm so the odd patch of sun is most welcome.  Having found Marotiri Road and navigated my way to the turn south onto SH 32 it's now the long haul down the western side of the lake.  It's 73km from the turn to Turangi and most of it is lumpy.

As the relentless series of hills roll by it's impossible not to think what it's going to be like climbing this latest rise after another 157km. The only break in the ride is when a bee bounces off my face, down my jacket and stings me on the arm, little bastard. Still, no magpie attacks today.

The weather stays cool throughout and the wind strong and mostly unhelpful, by the time I've scooted down Waihi Hill and into Turangi a little before midday, I'm ready for a warmer layer.

Sally is back at the Motel to feed me sandwiches and replace drink bottles as I lie on the bed and complain about my back, my bum and the wind. I stretch the rest out for a bit longer than strictly necessary so its about 1220 before I'm back on the road with a second Marino top. 

Motel in Turangi

Settling into my stride, a cyclist catches up and starts chatting.  Richard is also training and is completing a lap of the lake. His pace is slightly quicker than mine so we end up with a compromise somewhere in between as he seems keen on the company. 

He turns out to be quite the gun having won events in the past and completing Taupo in 4hr10 in 2007 when he last did it.  Truly impressive.  We take turns leading and although I give him the opportunity to leave me at Hatepe Hill we end up cruising up together.  As we make the final run into Taupo arriving around 1400 I can't help thinking how tired the pace is making me and what another 100km of hills is going to feel like.

Richard turns off to Acacia Bay after the short climb out of Taupo (and a bottle refill); I groan inwardly and start the climbing again.  The westerly has not dropped noticeably so it's a long grind and I promise myself a rest where Marotiri meets SH 32.  In the end I hold out until the Whangamata intersection where a farmer on a motor bike slows down to check whether the body on the side of the road might be in need of assistance.

The worst of the hills are still ahead but the total distance has whittled away to 63km, it's beginning to feel doable.

Eventually part way up one of the steeper climbs the wee white car hurtles past from the opposite direction.  Sally has had a snooze, done some shopping and has come up the lake to meet me via another photo stop or two.


Supposedly a picture of steam vents on a hill

My support crew administers replacement liquids, supplies some leggings against the declining temperature and agrees to meet me at the top of the next hill after 10km to see if a jacket is in order.  It's encouraging to have a chat and a brief lie down. 

Head down at top of steep bit

After a rest - still not very cheerful


A couple more rendezvous points and eventually it is the downhill at Waihi and, in the knowledge that there are no more hills and a flat run home I wave the support crew good bye.  The westerly is very helpful for the last 8km and it's an utter relief to dismount outside the unit after 264km of riding.

I'm not sure what was turning the pedals for the last wee while because all I can do is crawl on to the bed and lie there feeling nauseous.  It's some time before a shower is feasible and longer before dinner is possible.  Eventually I feel warm, vaguely human and able to stay awake long enough to get into bed.

Ohhhhwwwww


The next day starts sunny as we head off for breakfast at the Brown Sugar cafe in Taihape.  However, Taihape and Waioru seem to be the only places enjoying sunshine today and it's a cloudy trip home.  A couple of breaks keep the journey interesting; the Marino shop at Utiku just south of Taihape (some cool stuff here) and Liz Hardie's cafe in Foxton (spot the corrugated iron coffee cup sign on the left shortly after the Mobil) - a 'must stop' with a couple of interesting craft shops now co-located.

Thursday 24 October 2013

Plan C: Molesworth

Road and off road tour over Labour Weekend

Julie, Thomas and Andrew 
Photo credits: good photos are most likely Julie or Thomas'

Rainbow Road; an enticing and slightly daunting stretch of road through some isolated South Island back country.  Having gazed at it on the map more than a few times I finally got around to planning a trip through a month or so back, however bad weather forced a change of plans.  Fortunately, a few weeks later Julie and Thomas are kind enough to invite me along for a stretched Labour weekend they have worked out.  

Their cunning plan is Thursday morning: ferry to Picton, Coastal Pacific train down past Kaikoura for a drop off at Mina Station and bike inland to Waiau for the night. Friday: head to Hanmer for supplies and on to the St James Cycleway making a supply drop on the way. Saturday: complete the St James and head over the Saddle to the Rainbow Valley and camp or stay at a hut.  Sunday: head down the Rainbow with a diversion up to the ski-field(!) and out to St Arnaud or Tophouse. Monday: down the Wairau Valley and back to Picton.  

It sounds fantastic and, although a bit daunted about tagging along with two such experienced bikers, I can't resist.  Besides there should be lots of tips to pick up and hopefully I won't jeopardise the trip by bringing the wrong gear or not being fit enough.  A pre-meet provides the opportunity to pick their brains and amend my packing list.

During the preceding week the weather forecast predicts a low to be pushing gale-force westerlies across the South Island with thunderstorms dumping rain on the West Coast and up into the central mountains where snow is promised. Our proposed route is into the middle of this, but tickets are booked so no backing out now.

Thursday 24 October

We rendezvous at the Bluebridge Ferry terminal for the 0800 sailing.  It's cold, grey and raining and the dire forecast for the next few days looks set to be born out.

The crossing is smooth and provides a chance to finesse the plan and contingency variants.  We have a little time in Picton, so get enough supplies to see us through to Hanmer and some second hand reading material before fronting up at the station.  There's a crowd of Christchurch school children returning from a 'camp' at the Wellington YHA; they are noisy but pretty well behaved and fortunately have a carriage to themselves.



A fine figure of a cyclist; Picton Station


Thomas turns out to have the same bike as me, but his is a little older and has seen a lot more service; sweat has eaten through the paint in places and started on the frame.  Few of the original parts seem to remain and it bears the signs of polished wear that are the hall marks of much used and cherished tools.  Mine has clearly not seen enough service.

The train arrives late and the announcer gives a number of good reasons including earthquake damage to tracks around Seddon, and someone putting something on the tracks near Blenheim.  The bikes go in the luggage van at the back and we head forward to carriage S passing X then U on the way: yes this train officially "SUX."  We wonder if this is an accident or if someone at the station has a warped sense of humour.

It's about 4 hours to Mina so we settle in with food, maps and the paper.


Cycle touring

The weather clears as we head south although the wind is strong.  The countryside is mostly bare farmland but there's a lot to look at that you don't see as well from the road; the saltpans at Grassmere, bird life around various ponds and an increasingly stunning day as we reach the coast to see seals basking in the sun.

The sea is a stunning green with the wind whipping spray off the surface.  We watch for the crossing over the Clarence River which we will be seeing more off in the next few days. When it finally comes in sight it is high, wide and turbid, promising grim weather in the mountains.

On the coast, but for the wind you would think the forecast was wrong.  However ... as the coastal hills open up around Kaikoura the view up to the mountains tells a different story.  Steely clouds are gathered around the peaks and promise harsh treatment of anyone foolish enough to want to travel west.

Clouds to the west promise high winds and foul weather

After the final tunnel, the tracks turn inland just south of the Hunderlee Hills which are bright with broom in flower.  I have never seen such a display; the colour is slightly lighter than gorse and it's dense and it's everywhere.  Each shrub is dripping with yellow blossoms so that you can barely see any green. Julie notes that the introduced broom is common around railways and wonders if it could be spread by trains.

The train manager swings by, he is quite a smooth operator and works the carriage to make sure everyone feels at home and are fully aware of the services available in the cafe car.  He assures us the train will not only slow down at Mina but will in fact stop to let us off.  Thomas has the inspired idea of a cheese board which nicely sees off the time until disembarking.

A bit before 6, the train stops carefully at Mina as the 'platform' is so short it is easily missed.  We clamber down, pass the bikes out and watch as the train rumbles away with school children waving through the windows.  A minute later we are on our own next to a small fibrelight shed listening to the westerly whistling through the trees and contemplating what the next 50km are going to be like.

Where!?


The first four kms are with the wind into Cheviot so pass easily.

Heading for Cheviot
Dust storms up the Waiau

The next 16 km up SH 1 (crossing the Waiau en-route) has a fierce cross wind, then the dreaded moment arrives when we turn west up Leader Road East for about 30km travel into the teeth of the wind.  Despite this, the farm valley itself is quiet and orderly; the narrow road meanders up and down to a low saddle (260m) where it morphs into Leader Road West but not before I have to stop to repair a puncture. My brand new tyres are Armadillos and supposedly highly puncture resistant, however I suspect the very old inner tube is at fault, no problem though I am carrying two spares.  Thomas does some sort of slight of hand which sees the tyre mysteriously removed in a split second and we are soon back on the road.

The first casualty
Where East meets West

It's 20:30 and on dark as we roll down the delightful final swoop into Waiau.  The motor camp is easy to find and looks very presentable with deep white gravel around tidy looking cabins.  Checked in, we find the rooms a little rougher inside but perfectly serviceable.  Once we have dined and washed we decide to skip a trip to the pub or watching a large selection of VHS videos on the small screen TV.  Not for the first time in this area (Cheviot too) there is a boil water notice on so we take a bit of time to do so to allow it time to cool before topping up our bottles in the morning.



Waiau Motor Camp


At this point, a word about food.  One of the things that I am interested in discovering is what type of victuals seasoned light-weight bikers stretch to. Dinner tonight is casserole from a tin with precooked rice; pretty good so far but there wont be a microwave for the next few days and we aren't carrying a stove ...

Friday

One of the permanent  residents starts shambling around noisily before 0600, so we are up before the alarm. The chap is a well retired wool sorter and doesn't say much but looks like he's lived a pretty hard life.  There is also a slightly younger Maori women who is chatty and seems to do most of the cleaning.  A third chap has distinguished himself by passing out drunk in the lounge last night to the slight bemusement of two young European women. 

The map shows a choice of the main road or an interesting back road (Leslie Hills Road) to SH 7 so there's no real decision required.  We follow Leslie Hills Road towards the grey hills with the rising sun at our backs throwing up rainbows ahead.  There's little traffic and before too long the road turns to well formed gravel.  The wind is generally helpful so we skip along.

Crossing the Mason River
Leslie Hills Road


Our route crosses the Waiau River just before reaching SH 7, we are startled to find the middle of the bridge is sagging alarmingly such that you roll down into a dip (ignoring the rebar sticking out of the shattered concrete on the sides) and up the other side. You have to admire the confidence of the engineer that said Broke-Back-Bridge is still usable by vehicles of up to 4 tonnes.  Below, the river is swollen, fast and the grey of pulverised rock.

As we travel carefully up the busy Lewis Pass Road towards Hanmer, Thomas and Julie introduce me to the delight of Bumper Bars.  Until now I have sworn by OSMs as the fuel for heroic feats but the Bumper Bar has oaty goodness as well as enough white chocolate to stick it all together and tastes much better.  They may have forever tainted my enjoyment of the humble OSM.

It's raining heavily as we cruise the last 9km from the highway into Hanmer a little after 1000.  Fortunately the cafe that catches our eye is Mumbles, it turns out to have a good selection of very good food and everything seems to come in one size: 'as big as your head.'  Julie, being the consummate Wellingtonian orders two buckets of coffee and a head sized date scone.  Thomas is probably still talked about in awe struck tones around Hanmer; he puts away a Herculean slice of cheesecake, a slice of carrot cake (as big as your head), a cold meat pie from the supermarket, a large slice of bacon and egg pie and a pastry with cream from a bakery up the road.

Julie and fat tyred bike at Mumbles

Lunch; part two


As we finish, the rain stops mucking around and starts in earnest.  It's touch and go for a bit with some dissident talk of an afternoon in the hot pools and seeing what it's like in the morning.  Just in time (1230) the rain eases and we head off as the sun breaks through.
Hot pools or hours of wet biking ...


It's worth having a look at the topo map for the area as there are some large rivers that have their sources in these rugged mountains and flow to the East Coast at Blenheim (Wairau River), Clarence (Clarence River) and Cheviot (Waiau River).  Despite the head waters being within 5kms of each other at one point, it is over 190km by road between where SH 1 crosses the Wairau and the Waiau.

Just north of Hanmer, the Clarence forms a rough 'U' with Mt Isobel in the Hanmer Range between the bottom of the U and the township.  You can cross over via Jack's Pass (west flank of Mt Isobel) or Jollie's Pass (east flank).  Once at the bottom of the U you can turn left and travel north towards the headwaters of the Clarence (Lake Tennyson) passing the St James Range (and the cycle way) on your left, and eventually over Island Saddle to the Rainbow Road and on to the Wairau. Or ... you can turn right and travel north east down river to where the Acheron River (and access to Blenheim) joins.  In other words, the Clarence flows south towards Mt Isobel (bottom of the U), turns east where first the road from Jack's Pass then the road from Jollie's Pass meet it before it turns north east away from Hanmer.

We are taking Jack's Pass and the road up is steepish in places; a bit of a haul but not too bad. A handful of cars pass so we are pretty much free to zigzag our way up undisturbed.  The flats around Hanmer catch the sun behind us as we head towards the clouds.  Julie zips ahead and is a little unsympathetic towards Thomas' more sedate pace as she catalogues the food he is carrying internally.






Almost there



Top of Jack's pass, Hanmer behind to the left

With the wind whipping through the pass, we pause only briefly for a few record shots before the short descent to the Clarence River, passing onto the largest farm in NZ; the Molesworth Station, shortly before reaching the bottom.  The Molesworth is owned by the Government (Dept of Conversation) and farmed under lease by Landcorp so there is pretty good public access. We turn left and follow the wide gravel road up beside the grey and swollen Clarence River.

By the numbers - bottom of Jacks Pass

The St James Cycleway is located in a conservation area to the west of Molesworth Station.  It starts about 26km north of here, near Island Saddle, and travels first west over Maling Pass into the Waiau catchment then south down the Waiau River, before leaving it to travel east up the Edward River and over a low pass to rejoin the Clarence River a few kilometres from the Jack's Pass Road.  Got that?  Never mind - what it means is that the southern end of the St James is not far from where we meet the Clarence and the northern end is much further up the valley.

Originally the plan was to travel up the Clarence to the north end of the St James and come south (the normal route).  However the one possibly dicey river crossing is near the south end of the route so we have decided to do it in reverse (i.e. if the crossing is impassable we don't have to back track quite so far).

As we travel up the valley it becomes clear that the demarcation between the rugged weather in the west and the merely windy weather in the east seems to be about the line of the road we are on. The line keeps shifting east and west, so whilst on the road we see a lot of sun, but once we turn west onto the St James, things deteriorate.

Sometimes the going is good

St James - 4WD entry; southern end

There are two ways into the Edward River and the southern section of the St James.  We take the northern 4WD track which should be quicker travel. It is easy to find and the climb is mild, but in places the mud is just too much for Thomas' and my roadcross tyres.  Julie with her knobblies has no problems and steams ahead.


Heading into the St James

When we regroup it is to discover that Thomas has a puncture so we hunker under a bank to do the repairs.

The second casualty




It's much better weather looking the other way
Horrible stream somewhere in the background

Ahead to the west the hills are grey with rain and the wind pushes it into our faces.  It looks pretty grim but we decide to push on as the river in the valley below doesn't seem too large.  At the top of the pass the track takes a steep descent and turns into a farm track; muddy, rutty and with scattered Matagouri (mind the thorns).

There are three significant stream crossings marked on our map.  The first crossing of the Edwards River is not too bad; knee high, swift and turbid but we link up and carry the bikes over one by one without any problems. 



First crossing - so far so good


The second (Sadds Stream) is narrower and also swift but easily navigated.  The last crossing however gives us pause.  Edward River is now wide and fast flowing. We review the situation: The hut is not far from here (<3km); the hardest crossing is past the hut; the weather is likely to get worse so we could get stuck between the two crossings.  We turn back.

Third crossing; Yeah? - Nah!

The wind chases us back up the valley with a double rainbow ahead.  Predictably the weather wins the race and the promising blue sky ahead disappears. What was a down hill ride from the pass is a trudge back up beside the bikes.

Top of the trudge

At the top we turn right to take the alternate route back to the Clarence River via the new formed track. It's a beautiful ride albeit a bit soft with all the rain. The wind is now helping us along at a great rate and we almost outpace the rain.

Sweet new single track - the rain catches up soon after this shot


At the southern end of the St James is the Homestead.  Here there is a car park, a cluster of buildings and a DoC toilet. As we pull in a young women is hopping out of her car and getting onto her bike.  She is planning to head up the valley and come down through the St James.  After our warning about the rivers she decides to go in the same way as us to take a look. She has little gear and no jacket. We don't see her again but her car is gone by morning so she clearly made it.

After the strategic retreat from the St James we agree it is sensible to assume that the road through the Rainbow is likely to be dicey with snow on the pass, swollen river crossings and the possibility of slips.  Molesworth it will have to be.  Although we know we can make Hanmer tonight, that would mean climbing back over one of the passes tomorrow.  There is an empty concrete block hut which doesn't actually have a sign saying no camping so we take that as an invitation and appropriate it for the evening.

Home for the night

Inside is warm from what sun has come through during the day and someone has left some old carpets in one room.  The bikes go in the other and we get organised into our sleeping bags to warm up.

Dinner is cold baked beans, pita bread and cold precooked rice.  OK, it may not sound particularly appetising but it goes down just fine.  My breakfast the next morning is worse; cold New World pick-and-mix porridge which tastes worse than it sounds, despite the occasional bit of dried fruit.

With the cold, rain and mucking about in rivers we have only travelled 93km today and everyone is tired.  Conversation soon tails off into sleep and the night is disturbed only by the wind in the trees and chimney and the odd car (god knows what they are doing out here).  We are mildly paranoid that someone is going to turn up and demand to know what we are think we are doing, but figure they can't kick us out now.

Saturday

Another grey day. We now have neighbours in the nearby hut who turn out to be a DoC worker with family and friends up for the weekend.  The kids are wandering around wearing buggerall in the cold wind and despite the fresh dusting of snow on the hills.  We chat briefly before heading off on plan C; down the Clarence to the Acheron and north to Blenheim.

Note the obscured tike in shorts


Although the clouds keep threatening to spill over us from the west, once we leave the St James behind the rain fades away.

The wind is finally friendly; pushing us down valley.  We pass the road to Jack's Pass (4km) then a while later the road to Jollies Pass (nearly 10 km).  There's a bit of rain but nothing to worry about.  A van passes; inside the driver has a microphone and is clearly regaling his passengers with facts about the countryside.  We leap frog them down the valley as they stop to look at various landmarks.

By the numbers - bottom of Jollies

A DoC worker stops for a chat and notes that he will be coming back through later and will keep an eye out for us.  He's an older chap and quite happy to talk.  As he pulls away we remember that we should have given him our coffee orders.

After 21 km the road crosses the Clarence River just above (south of) the confluence with the Acheron River.  Here the historic Acheron Accommodation House (1862) sits beside a gate which has been locked for the winter, until today.  Our van load of people are wandering through while the tour leader pours tea from a thermos so we leave them to it and climb the terrace to follow the Acheron River up towards its head waters.  The wind is no longer friendly and gets steadily stronger, once or twice bringing us to a standstill. Cattle run ahead of us and there are a surprising number of vehicles.

Acheron Accommodation House and normally locked gate

As we travel north the grass on the hillsides becomes more sparse.  Apparently the weed Heracium (Hawksweed) has taken over the hills, after over-grazing by sheep in the past.  There is a tinge of green on some of the slopes that suggests there is some grass coming back but mostly its grey and bare looking.  They don't run any sheep now, just 10,000 head of cattle which stick to the flats therefore leaving the slopes to recover (I suspect it will take generations).

Crossing the Yarra on the way up the Acheron

The DoC worker turns up again and stops for a chat.  He points to a Paradise duck by the river trying to lure us away from her nest and answers a few questions (apparently there are 10,000 cattle and 14 goats on the Station, but I may have misheard or he could have been pulling our legs).  Shortly after we come across a well built shelter at the top of a rise looking north towards Isolation Flat; neatly coinciding with lunch time.  We gather our supplies and have a good repast looking over the stunning view.  Although described as a shelter it is completely open to the cold wind that cuts through it like a knife.  It is sunny but I'm shivering by the time we remount to travel the short distance down to the confluence of the Severn and Acheron Rivers.

Lunch time 'shelter'


From the map it looks like you can follow the Severn then Alma Rivers to reach the Wairau River and Rainbow Road via a low pass, however that might be the subject for another adventure.  Today we follow the road across the Severn and up a short climb to Isolation Pass which looks north-east up the expanse of Isolation Flat.  The downhill is followed by the wind pushing the bikes hard across the plain and the easiest riding of the whole day.

Isolation pass, Isolation Flat behind


To infinity and beyond - Isolation Flat

At the top end of the flats the road crosses the Saxton then Acheron Rivers before a steep grunt up Ward Pass.  We leave behind the barren mountains circling sparsely vegetated flats and enter the upper Awatere Valley.  Although the mountains in the distance are still snow-flecked and grim, the valley itself is civilised and green.  The valley bottom however is hilly; dead hilly.


Sweating it up Ward Pass.  Acheron R and Isolation Flats behind

Slightly sped up ...


Another pass bites the dust

The road wanders up and down and up.  A herd of horses mill about as we pass, looking on with some interest but not coming too close; they seem to behave as a social unit and I wonder if they are pretty much left to their own devices, although they do look very well looked after.

The green, hilly and horsey Awatere Valley

Eventually we pass through a gate that marks the end of the Molesworth and shortly after, the cob cottage and camp area.  The cob cottage has been restored after suffering indignities such as being licked to death by cattle after the salt in the white wash.

Cob Cottage

A flock of motorcyclists are just gearing up to head into the Molesworth and start roaring off one by one soon after we arrive.  They have come down from Wellington and are heading through to Hamner, no doubt for a few beers, a soak and some good yarns about the day's riding.  Thomas wanders over and strikes up a conversation with them, he's good that way, whereas some of us are a little more reticent.

One thing I have definitely been reticent about is taking water from local streams so have been sucking air for a while (mental note; get some 1L water bottles and an additional sub-frame bottle cage).  The DoC supply is a chance to soak it up and replenish empty bottles (carefully ignoring any thought that the supply might just be coming from a local creek).

There's still plenty of daylight so we push on down the valley.  As noted earlier, the valley bottom is very hilly so the road engineers have taken the habit of following a side stream up for a bit then nipping over the ridge to drop to the main river again.  And when following the main river they pop up and down off river terraces apparently at random.  The result is slow going at the end of the day but nevertheless some impressive countryside with deep rocky gorges.

Just before a particularly memorable little climb (Upcot Saddle) we come across our first fellow cyclist.  This is such an event that it requires a stop and chat.  He has come up to Blenheim from Dunedin, and is travelling back south to Hamner to meet a friend.  He's had enough for the day, after the last uphill, and is looking for a place to camp.


Comparing notes

A little later we reach the scenic bridge over the Hodder Stream.  It is tempting to pitch the tents there and then, as there is a toilet and some mighty comfortable looking grass, although a bit of a hike for water.  We push on.

Hodder Bridge

Halfway up the latest of innumerable climbs onto numberless river terraces, another cyclists appears.  Nicholas turns out to be a stupendously laden Frenchman, who is friends with a good friend of Thomas and Julie's(!).  This requires a prolonged stop and chat and promises of catching up for a drink when he comes back through Wellington.  I have not been exposed to the world of international cycle touring but it is apparently not so large and has internet connections whereby such coincidences are not so unheard of.  Nicholas has a cycle computer and can tell us it is 68km to Blenheim.  He is also looking for a spot for the night with somewhere he can wash.

We travel on until the sun has gone and the evening is gathering, when Thomas very sensibly suggests that this gully might be a good spot for the night.  He's right.  Cow Creek has a flat grassy area out of sight of the road, unmolested by cattle and with easy access to the water for washing bodies and clothes.  We set up for a comfortable (albeit noisy from the wind) night.  For those with an interest ... dinner consists of cold baked beans and precooked rice, a can of tuna with chilly and H&P crackers.

Cow Creek (in the morning) our camp at 60% along 30% up

We have covered 143km today, mostly on gravel with some passes and hills, and lots of spectacular countryside.  That's what it's all about!

I have discovered that Thomas is very organised and particular about some things.  Whilst I am inclined to wear merino (lasts longer before stinking), and generally travel solo, so don't need to be as concerned about the olfactory concerns of any companions; he wears polypro which dries quickly so can be washed each evening.  He washes all critical items of clothes and body every night (even after a short day) and has all the supplies needed to do so; including pegs (I hasten to add that I do carry deodorant which ameliorates things somewhat).  You can get away with it on your own for weekends but I suspect with more mult-day touring I will move more towards Thomas' way of thinking.

Sunday


There is no dew in the morning so the tents are easily stowed.  I use body heat to warm the pick-and-mix porridge which improves it a little before we hit the road with a rising sun.  It's shaping up to be sunny although still windy. 

The first thing is drinking-water.  Julie recalls a creek where riders filled up on the Kiwi Breve (an awesome event which I aspire to do one day).  She concurs with my assessment; check carefully and don't touch it if it looks like there's any stock in the catchment.  I spot Fuchsia Creek which seems to fit the bill and Julie recognises it from the Breve so we top up and drink our fill (no attributable after-effects subsequently identified).  Soon after, the road turns from gravel to seal.


Cryptosporidiosis anyone?

The wind is now mostly helpful so we are able to scoot along pretty quickly with a big drop from the last of the hilly terraces to pass through vineyards.  There's a brief pause to check out Blairich Creek Campsite with plenty of camping sites amongst the willows and a toilet, but no supplied water.  On either side the valley sides are lower and gentler and ahead the hills open towards the sea.

If we continue down the valley another 10km or so we would reach SH 1 just north of Seddon and before Redwood Pass to Blenheim.  Today though we are turning left (northish) and travelling over the hills between the Awatere and Wairau Valleys via Taylor's pass.  The pass road starts with a short steep sealed section then turns abruptly nor-norwest and into the teeth of the wind to climb gently at first and then more steeply up through the hills to the pass. We pause once on the way to say hello to a playfully skittish young horse that is keen for a bit of social interaction.

The pass itself doesn't have any view but we take some photos for the record and with the smell of coffee in Julie's nostrils (I'm thinking more of maple pancakes), we head down through pines and increasingly tidy pasture to eventually reach the vineyards of Marlborough.

Taylor Pass - Arriving ...

... and leaving

Julie has a cunning plan to get us into town via a riverside trail but we find that the Wither Hills Mountain Bike Park will also do the job and demands some investigation.  It appears to be a great wee set up with graded trails all over the hillside and drinking fountains at strategic spots.  We see many bikers and walkers as we traverse the edge before dropping down Redwood Street to the centre of town.

And that's how it should be!

In town, it's nearly midday and we part company briefly: Thomas to find something green to eat, Julie and I to find coffee and pancakes at 'Watery Mouth Cafe'.  With the change in plans we now have a day up our sleeves.  The options are quickly sorted: Whakamarina Track (tempting but not after this weather and too rough for our current bike configurations); Havelock and Grove Track (tedious headwind road section to Havelock); main road to Picton (direct but uninteresting) or Port Underwood (hilly and touch and go to reach the last ferry today but option of staying at the nice DoC camp ground at Whatamango Bay).

I'm keen to do a few more hills for the sake of training and Thomas very kindly agrees to accompany me around Port Underwood. Julie takes the main road option and we arrange to meet at the DoC camp to regroup.  Thomas and I head off a little before 1pm.

Although somewhat fitter than last time I came through here, Port Underwood is still a hilly ride.  The gravel road gets cut up into corrugations and the southern end has a lot of traffic.  Some climbs are also on the steep side.  Recalling that there is little in the way of public water (aside from streams) I fill up at the Rarangi DoC camp.

Cruising the hills of Port Underwood

The first climb is on seal so is not so bad, there after it's a question of ticking off the bays after each climb and descent.  White's Bay, Robin Hood Bay, Ocean Bay, Kakapo Bay, Tom Canes, Coles, Oyster (not counting the ones the road doesn't drop into).  One of the cars that passes us (the one that slowed so as to reduce the dust) is stopped on a corner with the bonnet up.  His temperature gauge has gone off the chart and he's wondering what to do as there doesn't seem to be any water leak.  The cyclists pool their knowledge but beat a strategic retreat when another car turns up with someone that professes to know something about engines.

At the top of the hill out of Robin Hood Bay we stop and I offer Thomas an OSM bar but he suggests that the pesto bread, Camembert and kiwifruit that he is carrying might be a little more appetising.  I'm somewhat stunned as to how he has pulled off this loaves and fishes miracle but agree that it most certainly would be.  We eat our fill looking south over Cloudy Bay to Cape Campbell.  Clouds scud in from the west occasionally providing a welcome break from the sun.

Finally we reach the seal and the last climb to 390m, the sign at the bottom says 19km to Picton.  For the purpose of training I push the pace up the hill and am rewarded with a pounding chest and head but just manage to keep it going to the top where I am not at all surprised to see Julie waiting. She has checked out the DoC site and decided to potter up the 5km climb to meet us.

There's a conference at the top with me keen to see if we can make the 7pm Bluebridge sailing with the option of having dinner and getting accommodation in Picton if we don't.  Option B being a leisurely cruise down to Whatamango Bay and a final night under canvas before catching the morning ferry home.

Once again Thomas and Julie are kind enough to humour my preference so we skim down the hill and around the bays to Picton. Julie has the fresher legs and takes the lead to allow Thomas and I to draft.  The Bluebridge staff are quite good natured about our late arrival and we quickly have tickets before following the passenger bus to the Straitsman.  It's been a 123km day with a good break in Blenheim but with a fair amount of gravel and hills.

We're all pretty hungry by now so commandeer a strategic table in the cafe.  In the corner a large group are eyeing us up in a pointed way and it takes a while to click that it is the bikers we saw on the Molesworth.  They spent the night in Hanmer then headed up past the St James towards Island Saddle and the Rainbow Road but turned back when it started snowing.  One of them also thought the road might have been closed due to slips - so it sounds like it was lucky we didn't stick to plan A.

Snoozing on the Interislander
(Well, on the Bluebridge)




It's a mercifully smooth sailing and we're coming through the heads before we know it.  After disembarking Julie and Thomas head south for the climb home and I head home on the flat.  Tomorrow is a holiday so time to clean and lube the bike, do the washing and maybe check out that 40% off everything Macpac sale ...

Gear notes

Bikes and luggage
Thomas and I are both ride Giant XTCs (26" hard tails).  His has been all over the world and we're both quite happy with them, but ... for lighter, faster travel I'm starting to cast longing eyes towards a cyclocross bike.  Julie is very happy with her much newer 29er (not sure of the brand) and as Thomas is a similar height they are able to swap during the trip. Thomas clearly saw some advantages for this sort of travel (smoother ride, a little more stable in the steering and easier handling on the up hills) as he buys one for himself straight after the trip (the faithful XTC maintains its niche though and will not be retired yet). 

I'm still sold on aero bars which provide another riding position (rests the back), easier travel into the wind and somewhere to sling the tent. It's worth noting that Julie's bar extensions although making it look like she was driving a bus were the most stable in the wind and also provided varied riding positions.

Specialized Crossroad tyres were a conscious compromise; fine on road and gravel but Julie's knobblies were superior in mud. Would use again but in drier conditions and without the rougher surface of St James would likely opt for something faster.

My seat post mounted carrier means the bag sits a little high but is fine on the road. The mounting is starting to show some wear and is not so good on rougher surfaces (it wags the bike's tail).  Julie's frameless seat bag, although smaller looks like a better option for rougher touring but I would need somewhere else to stash kit (I can see a frame bag coming). 

Thomas had a tonne of gear stashed around his bike with dry bags on front and back carriers and a large handle bar bag (very handy for stuff you need quickly).  I had a largish back pack which I am used to but should be able to get rid of at least for summer touring.

Nutrition and Hydration
I got by OK fine two 750ml bottles but if it had been any hotter would have had to resort to local streams more. At least one 1L bottle and an additional drink bottle mounting is in order before long haul summer riding.  If I'm going to cut water capacity fine in order to reduce weight it will be important to carefully pre-plan water stops and maybe consider water purification options.

I learnt some good lessons about what works cold (baked beans, fish, cheese) and what is not so great (cheap pick and mix porridge; I think I'll stick with my pre-mix muesli & milk powder). Precooked rice was ok and comes in a lot of flavours but is a little chewy. This trip we took food that didn't need water as we were replenishing every day or two, for longer stints something drier and lighter might be worth considering. OSMs and Bumper bars are great but there is a boost from eating real food like bread and cheese.

Sleeping
Compared to my companions, my current arrangements are positively luxurious. The Macpac Explorer bag is more than warm enough and the thermo rest very comfy.  They had very light weight bags (500g) and thin, foam and foil mats (like those one you put in your car windows on hot days). I can definitely trim some weight here.

Repairs
I need to put some thought to this.  It's a question of balancing weight against the probability of something breaking e.g. if you break back spokes it may require cluster removal.  I have broken very few spokes so don't carry a cluster removal tool.  Travelling as a couple means J&T can carry quite a bit between them.

Clothes
The polypro vs marino debate is interesting.  I'm still in the marino camp despite it not drying as quickly, expensive, less wear resistant ... However, it does smell less readily and is more comfortable.

I used everything except my over mitts and didn't feel like the margins were too fine.  Have subsequently picked up a more robust rain jacket though as the ultra light weight Outdoor Research jacket just feels a bit too light in rough conditions, is less tough and has a little leakage through the zip.

Some other stuff

I forgot two critical elements; on extended gravel travel chain lube may be needed more than once a day.  I normally carry some but clean forgot and even though Julie had the foresight to bring enough to help me out I still experienced some problems changing gears later in the day.  The second (and sort of related!) was chafe cream, I have got out of the habit of carrying any but wearing two layers in wet conditions resulted in a situation we wont dwell upon.  Again Julie and Thomas had a spare sample tube that meant not having to resort to applying  sunscreen in places the sun don't shine.