Westport to Punakaiki 58km
I found Westport to be kind of a bland town and the campsite was a bit noisey, so I was up early and packing to the smell of coal burning. Apparently Westport is also known as coaltown. The stiff westerly wind from the day and night before had died down but was now coming from the south east. Resigned to the nature of things I set of to the south east ready for a day of headwinds. However, after passing the mouth of the Buller gorge the winds calmed, the sun came out and it was the begining of a beautiful day. And hot, as in very hot. The gradients on this stretch of road were quite stiff and made even more so by the intense heat.
As the road tracked towards the coast the vegitation became even more lush. It is very much the verdant rainforest here on the west coast of the south island. It obviously rains here a great deal, but today every bit of cloud had been boiled away by the blazing hot sun. Still very nice.
Then I hit the Pakihi hill. Yikes! Four climbs of nearly 150 meters, each in less than 10km. Did I mention it was also hot? It must have been well above 90 degrees. By the (almost) last climb I had arrived at the coast and was out of water--having started the day with over 3 liters. When II finally made the summit I was grateful for the strategically placed picnic bench overlooking the Tasman sea. I fortunately had several bottles of Powerade. Not the best while riding--more of an end of the day surgar blast type thing--but I gulped down an entire bottle while enjoying the magnificent scenery.
I've never really been in an actual rain forest before. Really quite beautiful. I pedalled slowly down the coast, drinking all of my powerades and taking lots of photos while preparing for the final climb of the day. Perpendicular Point. I'm pretty sure the name is not in reference to the gradient but it might as well be.
250 meters of nearly straight up later I stopped for a few pictures and ate my banana before it finally melted. A very friendly, rotund couple pulled up in their gas powered, air-conditioned behemoth and offer to take my picture. Apparently they though it wise to commemorate my having made it to the top. They mentioned that seeing NZ on a push-bike seemed crazy. I could almost see their point. Then they got into thier giant steel enclosure and speed off past the Paporoa rain forest at 100kph. I coasted down the hill to the holiday park and set up my tent for $10 just off the beach. I'll bet they spent $10 on gas getting their motorized home up the next hill.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Friday, January 29, 2010
Day 29
Reefton to Westport 81km
Today was a gorgeous ride through the rainforest. Without the rain! Perfect. The Buller gorge was particularly pleasant. I stopped along the way at a nice little picnic area to change out water bottles. While eating an apple out of the bush appeared a beautiful Weka. The cute little bird had a wounded claw and seemed quite happy for a few bits of bread. I understand these birds live only on the south island. I would have stayed and enjoyed her company a bit longer but the damn sandflies converged on me in seconds.
In Rotorua I read of a Maori legend were the people spent all of their time standing around staring at the amazing scenery, so the Gods sent sandflies to prod them back to work. Certainly being in motion seems the best way to avoid the little bloodsuckers. I hear they get bigger the farther south one travels. I also understand the scenery becomes even more impressive further south. Must be something to the Maori folk tale.
Today was a gorgeous ride through the rainforest. Without the rain! Perfect. The Buller gorge was particularly pleasant. I stopped along the way at a nice little picnic area to change out water bottles. While eating an apple out of the bush appeared a beautiful Weka. The cute little bird had a wounded claw and seemed quite happy for a few bits of bread. I understand these birds live only on the south island. I would have stayed and enjoyed her company a bit longer but the damn sandflies converged on me in seconds.
In Rotorua I read of a Maori legend were the people spent all of their time standing around staring at the amazing scenery, so the Gods sent sandflies to prod them back to work. Certainly being in motion seems the best way to avoid the little bloodsuckers. I hear they get bigger the farther south one travels. I also understand the scenery becomes even more impressive further south. Must be something to the Maori folk tale.
Day 28
Mariau Springs to Reefton 58km
Downhill was a real nice change from the day before. I had my first major encouter with sandflies in the morning. Nasty little vampires. I had camp folded up and was on my way in record time with quite the array of welts on my lower legs. Once beyond the reach of the bloodsuckers coasting through the beechwood forest was a real treat. It reminded me a lot of coastal Oregon with peaks reminiscent of the Colorado high country.
I found Edgar and Ellie at the Reefton holiday park. They had also decided a short downhill day after the previous day's climbing was a good idea. I had a nice long talk with them where I learned Spain is comprised of four distinct ethnic groups each with their own language. I knew of the Basques, but was unaware of the Gaelics and the Catalonians. Ellie is apparently from Catalonia and doesn't speak Spanish all that well. A Spaniard who doesn't speak spanish, what do I know. Of course I was most grateful of their ability to speak to me in entirely adequate English.
Downhill was a real nice change from the day before. I had my first major encouter with sandflies in the morning. Nasty little vampires. I had camp folded up and was on my way in record time with quite the array of welts on my lower legs. Once beyond the reach of the bloodsuckers coasting through the beechwood forest was a real treat. It reminded me a lot of coastal Oregon with peaks reminiscent of the Colorado high country.
I found Edgar and Ellie at the Reefton holiday park. They had also decided a short downhill day after the previous day's climbing was a good idea. I had a nice long talk with them where I learned Spain is comprised of four distinct ethnic groups each with their own language. I knew of the Basques, but was unaware of the Gaelics and the Catalonians. Ellie is apparently from Catalonia and doesn't speak Spanish all that well. A Spaniard who doesn't speak spanish, what do I know. Of course I was most grateful of their ability to speak to me in entirely adequate English.
Day 27
Hanmer Springs to Mariua Springs 87km
Another gorgeous day on the south island. The route up to Lewis pass was long, beautiful and very difficult. A net gain of 700 meters with at least twice that amount tacked on with the numerous ups and downs, some quite steep. The flattish parts, such as they were each came with quite the headwind regardless of direction. I stopped for lunch at the top of one particularly big hill and had a nice long chat with a retired Kiwi couple traveling about in their enormous camper bus. THey were most pleased to explain the intricacies of rugby. I've watch a few times and both the strategy and scoring were inscrutable to me.
As I was packing up lunch a Kiwi cyclist pulled up and asked to look at my pedallers' paradise book. I guess it is a reasonable assumption that a guy sith a funny accent on a fully loaded bike has a copy of that most useful book.
A bit later I caught up with Edgar and Ellie and we worked together in the stiff wind(sortof). The final leg to the pass was a particularly difficult gradient, but very beautiful with native beechwood forests and the most impressive peaks of the southern alps closing in. It was really nice to pass through native forest after all of the sad plantations (and logging trucks) of the north island.
JUst after the summit we came to Mariua Springs, the only other thermal springs on the south island. They wanted $30 for a tent site! I was really tired however and a sit in the 100degree hot springs was included in the price. Edgar and Ellis decided to press on and find a camp site in the forest. I handed over $30 and sat in the slightly sulfurous pool for an hour. It was almost worth it after a long day up pedalling up. I could barely get myself out in time to make it up to the sushi bar before closing. The place was a kind of Japanese bath house deal and they made a great sushi rool.
Another gorgeous day on the south island. The route up to Lewis pass was long, beautiful and very difficult. A net gain of 700 meters with at least twice that amount tacked on with the numerous ups and downs, some quite steep. The flattish parts, such as they were each came with quite the headwind regardless of direction. I stopped for lunch at the top of one particularly big hill and had a nice long chat with a retired Kiwi couple traveling about in their enormous camper bus. THey were most pleased to explain the intricacies of rugby. I've watch a few times and both the strategy and scoring were inscrutable to me.
As I was packing up lunch a Kiwi cyclist pulled up and asked to look at my pedallers' paradise book. I guess it is a reasonable assumption that a guy sith a funny accent on a fully loaded bike has a copy of that most useful book.
A bit later I caught up with Edgar and Ellie and we worked together in the stiff wind(sortof). The final leg to the pass was a particularly difficult gradient, but very beautiful with native beechwood forests and the most impressive peaks of the southern alps closing in. It was really nice to pass through native forest after all of the sad plantations (and logging trucks) of the north island.
JUst after the summit we came to Mariua Springs, the only other thermal springs on the south island. They wanted $30 for a tent site! I was really tired however and a sit in the 100degree hot springs was included in the price. Edgar and Ellis decided to press on and find a camp site in the forest. I handed over $30 and sat in the slightly sulfurous pool for an hour. It was almost worth it after a long day up pedalling up. I could barely get myself out in time to make it up to the sushi bar before closing. The place was a kind of Japanese bath house deal and they made a great sushi rool.
Day 26
Waikari to Hanmer Springs 65km
The nicest day on the south island so far. Apparently summer has finally arrived (I hope). A few fluffly white clouds greeted me as I packed up my tent, not too hot and a very slight westerly (head) wind. The Waikari valley is quite picturesque, and I took several. The nearly deserted road followed the Hunui river slightly uphill to the resort community of Hnmer Springs.
I understand Hanmer Springs to be one of only two hot springs on the south island. Quite unlike the north island with its plethera of fumming and occasionally stinky vents and bubbling pools. No untoward smells in Hanmer Springs however, though I did not try the hot springs given the $20 entrance fee. The holiday park was pricey enough at $22 for a tent site. Oh well, the shower was both free and hot.
I passed Ellie and Edgar on the way. They had taken the difficult inland route from Kiakoura (windy and hilly) and are also on their way to the west coast via Lewis pass. Looks like we'll be crossing the mountains together.
In culverdon while having lunch I ran into a very nice older couple from England beginning their 3 month tour of the south island. They are travelling on very lightly loaded bikes, staying at B&Bs each night. Must be nice when the heaviest thing on your bike is the wallet.
The nicest day on the south island so far. Apparently summer has finally arrived (I hope). A few fluffly white clouds greeted me as I packed up my tent, not too hot and a very slight westerly (head) wind. The Waikari valley is quite picturesque, and I took several. The nearly deserted road followed the Hunui river slightly uphill to the resort community of Hnmer Springs.
I understand Hanmer Springs to be one of only two hot springs on the south island. Quite unlike the north island with its plethera of fumming and occasionally stinky vents and bubbling pools. No untoward smells in Hanmer Springs however, though I did not try the hot springs given the $20 entrance fee. The holiday park was pricey enough at $22 for a tent site. Oh well, the shower was both free and hot.
I passed Ellie and Edgar on the way. They had taken the difficult inland route from Kiakoura (windy and hilly) and are also on their way to the west coast via Lewis pass. Looks like we'll be crossing the mountains together.
In culverdon while having lunch I ran into a very nice older couple from England beginning their 3 month tour of the south island. They are travelling on very lightly loaded bikes, staying at B&Bs each night. Must be nice when the heaviest thing on your bike is the wallet.
Day 25
Christchurch to Waikari 78km
Given the blustry westerlies that had blown since my arrival in Chch I headed north to cross the Southern Alps via Lewis pass. It was a pleasantly overcast morning and by far the flattest road I've encountered in NZ. I made good time out of the city with its multitude of cars and eventually found myself in the pleasant little enclave of Waikari. The domain camping was great. $5 for a tent site and a shower. I shared the entire place with a guy from England and his girlfriend from Germany. They are basically migrant workers who live at the camp site. Their visas allow them to keep a job for 3 months before they have to move on to the next location.
The local hotel--one of only two buildings on the main street--made a great steak sandwich and I spent the rest of the afternoon watching tennis on their enormous big screen TV.
Given the blustry westerlies that had blown since my arrival in Chch I headed north to cross the Southern Alps via Lewis pass. It was a pleasantly overcast morning and by far the flattest road I've encountered in NZ. I made good time out of the city with its multitude of cars and eventually found myself in the pleasant little enclave of Waikari. The domain camping was great. $5 for a tent site and a shower. I shared the entire place with a guy from England and his girlfriend from Germany. They are basically migrant workers who live at the camp site. Their visas allow them to keep a job for 3 months before they have to move on to the next location.
The local hotel--one of only two buildings on the main street--made a great steak sandwich and I spent the rest of the afternoon watching tennis on their enormous big screen TV.
Day 24
Kiakoura to Christchurch 180Km (bus)
It was another beautiful day on the south island, with 40kph winds from the south west. My two options for the day were south and west so, feeling a bit lazy I hopped on the bus to Chirstchurch. The route was kind of bland, lots of dairy farms. The trip on the bike would have taken at least three days so not such a bad idea having the bus carry me and the bike.
Chch was nice enough, but it is a city full of cars and large trucks. There was a big row in the paper about some guy who drives a monsterous black hummer and made an online posting about his desire to use his military assault vehicle on bicyclists! Sounds like a logging truck driver. Besides, backbacker hostels and their occupants aren't really my type so the next morning I was up early, on the lookout for menacing Hummers and beat a hasty 25kph retreat.
It was another beautiful day on the south island, with 40kph winds from the south west. My two options for the day were south and west so, feeling a bit lazy I hopped on the bus to Chirstchurch. The route was kind of bland, lots of dairy farms. The trip on the bike would have taken at least three days so not such a bad idea having the bus carry me and the bike.
Chch was nice enough, but it is a city full of cars and large trucks. There was a big row in the paper about some guy who drives a monsterous black hummer and made an online posting about his desire to use his military assault vehicle on bicyclists! Sounds like a logging truck driver. Besides, backbacker hostels and their occupants aren't really my type so the next morning I was up early, on the lookout for menacing Hummers and beat a hasty 25kph retreat.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Day 23
Pedaller's Rest Cycle Hostel to Kiakoura 76 km
I eventually learned the names of the cyclists staying with me at the Pedaller's Rest. Actually Edgar and Maria, both of whom are from Barcelona, saved $8.00 and stayed outside in their tent. I splurged the extra $4.00 and had the inside of the guest house to myself. I think the next morning after it had rained all night they might have wished they'd stayed inside. Even so they seemed happy to roll up their sopping rainfly and come inside to have breakfast. I was up a bit earlier and on my way while they were still eating.
The day was quite overcast but the winds had stopped (yeah) The road south to Kiakoura is quite flat as it tracks the coast and I managed 20kph over the entire distance. The east coast of the south island is very pretty, continuing to remind me of the coast of N. California.
I learned that Kiakoura is a Maori word for 'to eat crayfish'. All things considered I can see why. I stopped at this little seaside shack that advertised freshly boiled crayfish, also known as New Zealand Rock Lobsters. $50.00! I mentally thanked Clyve again and instead had a Paua patti sandwich for $6.00. It was so good I had a second. A very nice change from the peanut butter, honey and bananas that's been gracing my bread with each day.
I arrived in Kiakoura about 1:30 and set up my tent at the Holiday park. After a nice long hot shower I set off to find a second lunch. $95.00 for a whole crayfish! Once again imparting blessings on Clyve and his wife Ruth I noticed the local tavern had a Porter house steak for $14.50. I decided to wait a while to eat so instead went about looking for an internet cafe to update blogs and look at the weather.
It would appear I have a week of good weather ahead. Instead of continuing south all the way to ChristChurch as was the plan (such as there is a plan) I think I'll take advantage of the promised good weather--apparently it has been raining a lot here on the south island--and make a crossing of the southern alps to Westport. All the locals I've talked with say the east coast is nothing in comparison, scenery wise, to the west coast.
The sun came out briefly and I got a view of the seaward Kiakoura mountains. Very impressive. Much like the view of the Wasatch Front from SLC but instead of bounded on the other side by the stinky great salt lake they have the pacific ocean. Actually the seal colonies are rather odoriferous but still; brine ship vs. NZ rock lobsters?
I eventually learned the names of the cyclists staying with me at the Pedaller's Rest. Actually Edgar and Maria, both of whom are from Barcelona, saved $8.00 and stayed outside in their tent. I splurged the extra $4.00 and had the inside of the guest house to myself. I think the next morning after it had rained all night they might have wished they'd stayed inside. Even so they seemed happy to roll up their sopping rainfly and come inside to have breakfast. I was up a bit earlier and on my way while they were still eating.
The day was quite overcast but the winds had stopped (yeah) The road south to Kiakoura is quite flat as it tracks the coast and I managed 20kph over the entire distance. The east coast of the south island is very pretty, continuing to remind me of the coast of N. California.
I learned that Kiakoura is a Maori word for 'to eat crayfish'. All things considered I can see why. I stopped at this little seaside shack that advertised freshly boiled crayfish, also known as New Zealand Rock Lobsters. $50.00! I mentally thanked Clyve again and instead had a Paua patti sandwich for $6.00. It was so good I had a second. A very nice change from the peanut butter, honey and bananas that's been gracing my bread with each day.
I arrived in Kiakoura about 1:30 and set up my tent at the Holiday park. After a nice long hot shower I set off to find a second lunch. $95.00 for a whole crayfish! Once again imparting blessings on Clyve and his wife Ruth I noticed the local tavern had a Porter house steak for $14.50. I decided to wait a while to eat so instead went about looking for an internet cafe to update blogs and look at the weather.
It would appear I have a week of good weather ahead. Instead of continuing south all the way to ChristChurch as was the plan (such as there is a plan) I think I'll take advantage of the promised good weather--apparently it has been raining a lot here on the south island--and make a crossing of the southern alps to Westport. All the locals I've talked with say the east coast is nothing in comparison, scenery wise, to the west coast.
The sun came out briefly and I got a view of the seaward Kiakoura mountains. Very impressive. Much like the view of the Wasatch Front from SLC but instead of bounded on the other side by the stinky great salt lake they have the pacific ocean. Actually the seal colonies are rather odoriferous but still; brine ship vs. NZ rock lobsters?
Day 22
Marfell's beach to Pedaller's Rest Cyclist Hostel near Kekerengu 28 km
Perhaps I've written a bit too much about my luck with the weather as it end rather spectacularly today. It began pleasantly enough with a nice, not too windy, overcast morning. I made some coffee and spent a good while talking with Pete, who lives in the camper next to where I'd pitched my tent. Pete pointed out all his favorite taverns around the south island and had my route pretty much set for me by the time I bid he and Clyve farewell.
About 2km out, about the time I got past the cliffs of Cape Campbell that shelter Marfell's beach, the same southwesterly gale from the day before hit with a renewed vengeance. Clyve had mentioned the wind usually blows from the other direction. I pondered this rather useless bit of meteorological trivia while pedaling hard and making about 10kph. After about an hour of this the temperature dropped precipitously and the rain began falling in earnest. By the time I saw the sign for the Pedaller's Rest cyclist hostel through my completely fogged up sunglasses I was completely drenched and quite cold. I think their sign by the side of the road with a rusty bicycle on top is one of the finest sites I've come across so far. A few hours after taking a long and luxurious hot shower a young couple from Spain, pushed their bikes up to the hostel. I imagine I looked as wet and bedraggled as they when I arrives. Sadly they don't speak much English. I of course am completely monolingual, but we managed to communicate to each other just how nice, and nicely situated is the Pedaller's Rest cyclist hostel.
Perhaps I've written a bit too much about my luck with the weather as it end rather spectacularly today. It began pleasantly enough with a nice, not too windy, overcast morning. I made some coffee and spent a good while talking with Pete, who lives in the camper next to where I'd pitched my tent. Pete pointed out all his favorite taverns around the south island and had my route pretty much set for me by the time I bid he and Clyve farewell.
About 2km out, about the time I got past the cliffs of Cape Campbell that shelter Marfell's beach, the same southwesterly gale from the day before hit with a renewed vengeance. Clyve had mentioned the wind usually blows from the other direction. I pondered this rather useless bit of meteorological trivia while pedaling hard and making about 10kph. After about an hour of this the temperature dropped precipitously and the rain began falling in earnest. By the time I saw the sign for the Pedaller's Rest cyclist hostel through my completely fogged up sunglasses I was completely drenched and quite cold. I think their sign by the side of the road with a rusty bicycle on top is one of the finest sites I've come across so far. A few hours after taking a long and luxurious hot shower a young couple from Spain, pushed their bikes up to the hostel. I imagine I looked as wet and bedraggled as they when I arrives. Sadly they don't speak much English. I of course am completely monolingual, but we managed to communicate to each other just how nice, and nicely situated is the Pedaller's Rest cyclist hostel.
Day 21
Picton to Marfell's beach 74 km
It rained last night and I thought perhaps my luck with the weather was about to run out, but the day dawned bright and sunny.
I had intended to head west towards Nelson then turn south towards the west coast but somehow got myself on the wrong road and was on my way to the east coast. By the time I realized my error I had climbed about 150 meters out of Picton and decided, in the spirit of a journey with no destination or timetable to continue on down the east coast to ChristChurch.
After climbing through the forest plantations around Picton I droped into the Marlbourough region and Blenhiem where the scenery changed to something more like the northern California wine country. Indeed the area around was primarily vinyards surrounded by brown grass clad hills--very much like N. Cal. There was a farily big climb aout of Blenheim. Not too bad but it was a really hot afternoon and the heat takes it right out of me while cycling.
After dropping down towards the township of Seddon I hit my first really big headwind of the trip so far. Really, really windy and right in my face. I found myself in a very low gear on a flat road getting buffeted about rather vigorously. I stopped in Seddon, a town comprised of a small cafe and 4square (small grocery) and an i-site. The very helpful lady at the i-site gave me directions to a DoC campsite about 17km further on into the blustery headwind. I sat at the cafe for a long while enjoying some excellent fried Gurnard hoping the wind might die down (nope). I then wandered around the 4squre taking my time selecting water and some oatmeal satchets. The wind seemed to get a bit stronger so I set off on a 90 minute trip to cover 17 km. Fortunately the route was downhill with the last half in a crosswind heading east towards the beach.
I finally arrived at yet another lovely, quite little camp site and set about setting my tent near a tree out of the wind. Which was not to bad as there was a towering cliff to the south from where the wind was blowing. At this point Clyve, the onsite manager, came over and suggested my choice of tent site might not be so good. Apparently the wind usually blows from the NE, where I had a fine wide open exposed view of the ocean. If the wind change to that direction during the night I could have well been literally blown away. Grateful for the advice, and encouraged by the thought the wind might change to a more favorable direction, I moved to the spot Clyve suggested and began putting up my tent. About this time several other residents, all of whom live in small campers wandered over to talk with me and Clyve. Everyone was quite happy to tell me about all the good places to camp and fish on the south island, and quit wasting my money on bottled water as the stuff coming out of the faucet in the ground was just fine. Eventually Clyve waved off as he was going to catch some 'crawfish'.
A bit later, after a nice walk on the beach I got out my camp stove and set about boiling some water. As the prepackaged, commercial pasta substance was burbling away in my pot Clyve came over with a freshly caught, freshly boiled 'crawfish'. While anatomically similar to the little river crayfish in the US, this thing was the size and color of one of the largest lobsters I've ever seen. It was without a doubt the best meal I've had in NZ and probably the best shellfish I've ever had. The tail was just like a lobster and the legs (it has no claws) were better than any crab I've had.
Later that evening Clyve, came over in his dripping wetsuit to show me the Paua (abalone) he'd just scoop off the bottom of the ocean. He and his lovely wife Ruth may live in a camper 6 months out of the year, but they wave an amazing view and they eat very well. Not a bad life really.
It rained last night and I thought perhaps my luck with the weather was about to run out, but the day dawned bright and sunny.
I had intended to head west towards Nelson then turn south towards the west coast but somehow got myself on the wrong road and was on my way to the east coast. By the time I realized my error I had climbed about 150 meters out of Picton and decided, in the spirit of a journey with no destination or timetable to continue on down the east coast to ChristChurch.
After climbing through the forest plantations around Picton I droped into the Marlbourough region and Blenhiem where the scenery changed to something more like the northern California wine country. Indeed the area around was primarily vinyards surrounded by brown grass clad hills--very much like N. Cal. There was a farily big climb aout of Blenheim. Not too bad but it was a really hot afternoon and the heat takes it right out of me while cycling.
After dropping down towards the township of Seddon I hit my first really big headwind of the trip so far. Really, really windy and right in my face. I found myself in a very low gear on a flat road getting buffeted about rather vigorously. I stopped in Seddon, a town comprised of a small cafe and 4square (small grocery) and an i-site. The very helpful lady at the i-site gave me directions to a DoC campsite about 17km further on into the blustery headwind. I sat at the cafe for a long while enjoying some excellent fried Gurnard hoping the wind might die down (nope). I then wandered around the 4squre taking my time selecting water and some oatmeal satchets. The wind seemed to get a bit stronger so I set off on a 90 minute trip to cover 17 km. Fortunately the route was downhill with the last half in a crosswind heading east towards the beach.
I finally arrived at yet another lovely, quite little camp site and set about setting my tent near a tree out of the wind. Which was not to bad as there was a towering cliff to the south from where the wind was blowing. At this point Clyve, the onsite manager, came over and suggested my choice of tent site might not be so good. Apparently the wind usually blows from the NE, where I had a fine wide open exposed view of the ocean. If the wind change to that direction during the night I could have well been literally blown away. Grateful for the advice, and encouraged by the thought the wind might change to a more favorable direction, I moved to the spot Clyve suggested and began putting up my tent. About this time several other residents, all of whom live in small campers wandered over to talk with me and Clyve. Everyone was quite happy to tell me about all the good places to camp and fish on the south island, and quit wasting my money on bottled water as the stuff coming out of the faucet in the ground was just fine. Eventually Clyve waved off as he was going to catch some 'crawfish'.
A bit later, after a nice walk on the beach I got out my camp stove and set about boiling some water. As the prepackaged, commercial pasta substance was burbling away in my pot Clyve came over with a freshly caught, freshly boiled 'crawfish'. While anatomically similar to the little river crayfish in the US, this thing was the size and color of one of the largest lobsters I've ever seen. It was without a doubt the best meal I've had in NZ and probably the best shellfish I've ever had. The tail was just like a lobster and the legs (it has no claws) were better than any crab I've had.
Later that evening Clyve, came over in his dripping wetsuit to show me the Paua (abalone) he'd just scoop off the bottom of the ocean. He and his lovely wife Ruth may live in a camper 6 months out of the year, but they wave an amazing view and they eat very well. Not a bad life really.
Day 20
Wellington to Picton 150 km (?)
I rode the ferry from Wellington to Picton today. It was a picturesque cruise, particularly the Queen Charlotte sound leading into Picton. The Cook straight between the north and the south islands was very windy. Even so apparently the crossing was on a particularly nice day. I read in the paper that six days earlier ferry crossings between the islands was canceled due to eight meter swells in the straight. The day I made the journey the waves were less than a meter in height and still managed to rock the enormous ferry quite noticeably.
The crossing took nearly four hours and by the time I disembarked in Picton there was time only to find a tent site and get some dinner. I set my tent next to yet another cycle tourist, the first New Zealander on a bike I've come across. Jess, who quite liked my Surly Long Haul Trucker is about 65 and spending the next four weeks cycling the length of the south island before setting off to sea for six months. Presumably the cargo ship he works on is sufficiently large to avoid much of the undulations I experience on the ferry--a vessel that from my perspective seemed quite large. Or perhaps one gets used to having the deck plates in constant motion. I didn't get sick at all, but concentrating on staying balance while walking was a peculiar sensation. Clearly as a landlubber I don't have much in the way of sea-legs.
I rode the ferry from Wellington to Picton today. It was a picturesque cruise, particularly the Queen Charlotte sound leading into Picton. The Cook straight between the north and the south islands was very windy. Even so apparently the crossing was on a particularly nice day. I read in the paper that six days earlier ferry crossings between the islands was canceled due to eight meter swells in the straight. The day I made the journey the waves were less than a meter in height and still managed to rock the enormous ferry quite noticeably.
The crossing took nearly four hours and by the time I disembarked in Picton there was time only to find a tent site and get some dinner. I set my tent next to yet another cycle tourist, the first New Zealander on a bike I've come across. Jess, who quite liked my Surly Long Haul Trucker is about 65 and spending the next four weeks cycling the length of the south island before setting off to sea for six months. Presumably the cargo ship he works on is sufficiently large to avoid much of the undulations I experience on the ferry--a vessel that from my perspective seemed quite large. Or perhaps one gets used to having the deck plates in constant motion. I didn't get sick at all, but concentrating on staying balance while walking was a peculiar sensation. Clearly as a landlubber I don't have much in the way of sea-legs.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Day 19
Wellington 10km or so on foot
Neat city. I had fun wandering around. Considered buying a book but a paperback was $25. Guess that happens when you export wool and import everything else. Off to the South Island tomorrow.
Neat city. I had fun wandering around. Considered buying a book but a paperback was $25. Guess that happens when you export wool and import everything else. Off to the South Island tomorrow.
Day 18
Wanganui to Wellington 193km
193km in less than four hours. Seems miraculous. The bus trip was a nice change after five days straight of cycling. The road along the way was indeed rather lacking in scenery, lots of cows and sheep. About 15 minutes out of Wanganui the bus zoomed past Kurt and Tia, clearly too close to them from my perspective. Along the way we past one other cycle tourist and again entirely too close. On the whole I think traveling this section via internal combustion engine was a good idea.
Wellington is a neat city, my favorite in NZ so far. Reminds me a lot of San Francisco: steep hills and big buildings, a beautiful harbor and lots of wind. The backpacker hotel is quite nice. Certainly could not get anything comparable in San Francisco for $62 a night. I think I'll stay an extra day.
193km in less than four hours. Seems miraculous. The bus trip was a nice change after five days straight of cycling. The road along the way was indeed rather lacking in scenery, lots of cows and sheep. About 15 minutes out of Wanganui the bus zoomed past Kurt and Tia, clearly too close to them from my perspective. Along the way we past one other cycle tourist and again entirely too close. On the whole I think traveling this section via internal combustion engine was a good idea.
Wellington is a neat city, my favorite in NZ so far. Reminds me a lot of San Francisco: steep hills and big buildings, a beautiful harbor and lots of wind. The backpacker hotel is quite nice. Certainly could not get anything comparable in San Francisco for $62 a night. I think I'll stay an extra day.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Day 17
Ranana to Wanganui 61 km
Today was a spectacular day of cycling. Perhaps the best of the trip so far. It rained lightly last night but there wasn't a cloud in the sky when the sun came up. After making a fine breakfast of oatmeal and bananas with a mound of honey I bid farewell to the American family camping nearby and was on my way. The Americans were a minister from Michigan, his wife and too many cute little kids to count. They had been living in NZ for about four years and the kids were quite enthusiastic about their time here. Oddly it was a Sunday when they were camping so I didn't ask how business was going.
The trip down the Wanganui river road really was something. A lot like I imagined rural NZ before coming here: A verdant rain forest covering sheer mountains to either side of the river. My journey down the river was mostly downhill and the gravel changed to pavement not 15 minutes into the start of the day. For the entire trip down the river I passed 5 cars and a dozen canoeists. Along the way were a number of lovely picnic spots where I had second breakfast, lunch and supper. Even the final hill up and out of the river gorge was okay ending with yet another picnic table where I had dinner.
When I arrived at the i-site in Wanganui to inquire about camping I ran into Kurt and Tia! Turns out they had followed the same route as I about a day ahead. On their crossing of the volcanic plateau they were hit by drenching cold rain. I have been really lucky so far with the weather. They were also much more prepared for the gravel as their bikes are equipped with big fat mountain bike tires. They, being the incredible cyclist they are, have decided to pedal almost all the way to Wellington. I've heard nothing good about the cycling from Wanganui to Wellington. My book describes it as "flat/boring farming country" and the road near Wellington "the most dangerous in NZ". No thanks. I arranged bus passage for me and my bike to Wellington and a ferry to take us both to the south island. After 5 days straight I'm ready for a day off.
Today was a spectacular day of cycling. Perhaps the best of the trip so far. It rained lightly last night but there wasn't a cloud in the sky when the sun came up. After making a fine breakfast of oatmeal and bananas with a mound of honey I bid farewell to the American family camping nearby and was on my way. The Americans were a minister from Michigan, his wife and too many cute little kids to count. They had been living in NZ for about four years and the kids were quite enthusiastic about their time here. Oddly it was a Sunday when they were camping so I didn't ask how business was going.
The trip down the Wanganui river road really was something. A lot like I imagined rural NZ before coming here: A verdant rain forest covering sheer mountains to either side of the river. My journey down the river was mostly downhill and the gravel changed to pavement not 15 minutes into the start of the day. For the entire trip down the river I passed 5 cars and a dozen canoeists. Along the way were a number of lovely picnic spots where I had second breakfast, lunch and supper. Even the final hill up and out of the river gorge was okay ending with yet another picnic table where I had dinner.
When I arrived at the i-site in Wanganui to inquire about camping I ran into Kurt and Tia! Turns out they had followed the same route as I about a day ahead. On their crossing of the volcanic plateau they were hit by drenching cold rain. I have been really lucky so far with the weather. They were also much more prepared for the gravel as their bikes are equipped with big fat mountain bike tires. They, being the incredible cyclist they are, have decided to pedal almost all the way to Wellington. I've heard nothing good about the cycling from Wanganui to Wellington. My book describes it as "flat/boring farming country" and the road near Wellington "the most dangerous in NZ". No thanks. I arranged bus passage for me and my bike to Wellington and a ferry to take us both to the south island. After 5 days straight I'm ready for a day off.
Day 16
Mangahua Campgound to Ranana(London) 85 km
The road out of Mangahui was pleasant all the way to National Park, only a few drops of rain along the way. Then I turned south on S4. Fortunately this road was also nice and deserted. After the busy highway around the bay of plenty I'm not too keen on automobiles and large trucks. The views of Tongariro park to the west were awesome except Mt. Reapehu remained shrouded in clouds throughout the day as apparently it is want to do, refushing to submit to a photo. I got one from about 10km away on the way to Taupo and it looks like that may be the only one.
I arrived in Raetihi at about 45km into the day and had a choice of sorts. One directions Peddallers' Paradise described as "lacking in accomodations and attractions". The remote Wanganui river road was billed as "24km longer and much longer in time", but "often spectacular". Sounded good to me. I collected what supplies I could at the one and only store open in Raetihi, a town that had clearly seen better days and headed west.
During the early part of the last century the Wanganui river was apparently a main route into the central north island. Perhaps this was when Ratehi was in its prime. Now the area is a remote wilderness. I made my way up the hill to the pass leading to the Wanganui river gorge and there was definitely the feel of outback NZ. At the top where I usually look forward to a rapid descent the road turned to gravel. A steep gravel downhill on the fully loaded touring bike was quite difficult. At the bottom my hands were numb from gripping the brakes and handelbars. However the spectacular scenery together with the fact I was going down--up looked nearly impossible--made it worth the effort.
At about 65km I arrived in Pipiriki ready to end the day. Peddallers' Paradise promise "informal camping" there but I couldn't find it or really anything else. Pipiriki looks to be populated entirely by cows. So I reluctantly continued on down the gravel road, actually up out of Pipiriki. The scenery along the river was amazing and I got lots of pictures. I was also quite tired and started examining flat spots next to the road for potential camp sites. These were very few and far between as the road clings to a steep incline (as in cliff) following the course of the river down towards the Tasman sea. I did eventually come across a scenic turnout where I unpacked the bike and cooked some pasta. The food re-energized me and I decided to press on to Harahuma where there is a convent that doubles as a backpacker hotel.
On my way along the gravel road which thankfully tended down at a reasonable incline, I ran into a couple of cycle tourist from Engalnd going the other way (up!). I stopped to talk briefly to the guy while his girlfriend tried to pedal up the road towards us. She was clearly not having a great time of it. When she got to us I asked how much gravel remained and she assured me I did not want to know. It seemed a kindness not to mention the impossible gradients after they made it to Pipiriki, which was their destination for the day. I hope they had better luck finding the "informal camping" than I did.
A few kilometers later I found the convent. Sadly when I arrive there was no room at the inn. The sisters kindly offered a cup of tea before sending me on my way 7 km down the road to Ranana where there is a family campground my books said was closed--but thankfully was not. Fortunately the final leg of the journey was down hill. Not too downhill and the gravel wasn't too rough. I had my tent up and the rest of dinner cooked by the time the misquitoes arrived. On the whole a great day.
The road out of Mangahui was pleasant all the way to National Park, only a few drops of rain along the way. Then I turned south on S4. Fortunately this road was also nice and deserted. After the busy highway around the bay of plenty I'm not too keen on automobiles and large trucks. The views of Tongariro park to the west were awesome except Mt. Reapehu remained shrouded in clouds throughout the day as apparently it is want to do, refushing to submit to a photo. I got one from about 10km away on the way to Taupo and it looks like that may be the only one.
I arrived in Raetihi at about 45km into the day and had a choice of sorts. One directions Peddallers' Paradise described as "lacking in accomodations and attractions". The remote Wanganui river road was billed as "24km longer and much longer in time", but "often spectacular". Sounded good to me. I collected what supplies I could at the one and only store open in Raetihi, a town that had clearly seen better days and headed west.
During the early part of the last century the Wanganui river was apparently a main route into the central north island. Perhaps this was when Ratehi was in its prime. Now the area is a remote wilderness. I made my way up the hill to the pass leading to the Wanganui river gorge and there was definitely the feel of outback NZ. At the top where I usually look forward to a rapid descent the road turned to gravel. A steep gravel downhill on the fully loaded touring bike was quite difficult. At the bottom my hands were numb from gripping the brakes and handelbars. However the spectacular scenery together with the fact I was going down--up looked nearly impossible--made it worth the effort.
At about 65km I arrived in Pipiriki ready to end the day. Peddallers' Paradise promise "informal camping" there but I couldn't find it or really anything else. Pipiriki looks to be populated entirely by cows. So I reluctantly continued on down the gravel road, actually up out of Pipiriki. The scenery along the river was amazing and I got lots of pictures. I was also quite tired and started examining flat spots next to the road for potential camp sites. These were very few and far between as the road clings to a steep incline (as in cliff) following the course of the river down towards the Tasman sea. I did eventually come across a scenic turnout where I unpacked the bike and cooked some pasta. The food re-energized me and I decided to press on to Harahuma where there is a convent that doubles as a backpacker hotel.
On my way along the gravel road which thankfully tended down at a reasonable incline, I ran into a couple of cycle tourist from Engalnd going the other way (up!). I stopped to talk briefly to the guy while his girlfriend tried to pedal up the road towards us. She was clearly not having a great time of it. When she got to us I asked how much gravel remained and she assured me I did not want to know. It seemed a kindness not to mention the impossible gradients after they made it to Pipiriki, which was their destination for the day. I hope they had better luck finding the "informal camping" than I did.
A few kilometers later I found the convent. Sadly when I arrive there was no room at the inn. The sisters kindly offered a cup of tea before sending me on my way 7 km down the road to Ranana where there is a family campground my books said was closed--but thankfully was not. Fortunately the final leg of the journey was down hill. Not too downhill and the gravel wasn't too rough. I had my tent up and the rest of dinner cooked by the time the misquitoes arrived. On the whole a great day.
Day 15
Turangi to Mangahua 45km
I got off to a bit of a late start this morning after taking care of some e-mail stuff at the local i-center. I was loaded up with food and water and on the road a bit after 10:00am. It was a cloudy morning with the threat of rain. Perfect conditions for a day that was to start with a big climb. Peddallers' Paradise made the Te Ponga saddle sound a bit intimidating, but it wasn't that bad. After the day with the Wangapoua hill none of the subsequent hills have seemed all that difficult. Perahps I'm getting a bit more in shape, though I was in reasonably good climbing condition on arrival (no matter the rather pear-shaped photo from the first day). I'm still planning on crossing the southern alps three times, but I've not actually seen them yet so we'll see..
Anyway, the view of lake Taupo from to top was very nice and the trip down the other side was superb. The crossing leads to the central plateau of the north island dominated by the volcanoes of Tongariro national park. Mt. Ruapehu is particularly imposing and apparrently was quite active only 15 years ago. There were bits and pieces of old growth forest along the way that were quite beautiful. It was a wonderfully deserted road. Not a single logging truck the whole day (yeah!) There were a few drizzles but on the whole an excellent day of cycling.
I stopped just before the tiny settlement of National Park at a lovely campsite a few hundred meters off the main road near a pretty stream. This was my first DoC campsite since arriving in NZ and a pleasant change from the highly commercial holiday parks. While the showers at the so-called "motor camps" have been most welcome at the end of a long day of pedalling, the DoC site was perfect. I finally got out my camp stove and the freeze-dried beef teryaki was the most satisfying meal of the trip so far. It was just me and the birds and the bubbling brooke for several hours before a few other campers pulling later that day. I had a nice chat with a open heart surgical nurse from Montana who works in Wellington. She used to live in Dunedin on the south island where she worked at the university hospital. She had nothing but nice things to say about Dunedin. I'm looking forward to my visit there in a month or so.
I got off to a bit of a late start this morning after taking care of some e-mail stuff at the local i-center. I was loaded up with food and water and on the road a bit after 10:00am. It was a cloudy morning with the threat of rain. Perfect conditions for a day that was to start with a big climb. Peddallers' Paradise made the Te Ponga saddle sound a bit intimidating, but it wasn't that bad. After the day with the Wangapoua hill none of the subsequent hills have seemed all that difficult. Perahps I'm getting a bit more in shape, though I was in reasonably good climbing condition on arrival (no matter the rather pear-shaped photo from the first day). I'm still planning on crossing the southern alps three times, but I've not actually seen them yet so we'll see..
Anyway, the view of lake Taupo from to top was very nice and the trip down the other side was superb. The crossing leads to the central plateau of the north island dominated by the volcanoes of Tongariro national park. Mt. Ruapehu is particularly imposing and apparrently was quite active only 15 years ago. There were bits and pieces of old growth forest along the way that were quite beautiful. It was a wonderfully deserted road. Not a single logging truck the whole day (yeah!) There were a few drizzles but on the whole an excellent day of cycling.
I stopped just before the tiny settlement of National Park at a lovely campsite a few hundred meters off the main road near a pretty stream. This was my first DoC campsite since arriving in NZ and a pleasant change from the highly commercial holiday parks. While the showers at the so-called "motor camps" have been most welcome at the end of a long day of pedalling, the DoC site was perfect. I finally got out my camp stove and the freeze-dried beef teryaki was the most satisfying meal of the trip so far. It was just me and the birds and the bubbling brooke for several hours before a few other campers pulling later that day. I had a nice chat with a open heart surgical nurse from Montana who works in Wellington. She used to live in Dunedin on the south island where she worked at the university hospital. She had nothing but nice things to say about Dunedin. I'm looking forward to my visit there in a month or so.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Day 14
Taupo to Tarangi 63km
The cycling along lake Taupo was quite beautiful. A giant volcanic crater now home to a gorgeous lake. I stopped several times to take pictures. At a particularly nice picnic area I stopped to finish the strawberries (a box of strawberries and several bananas have proven to be the perfect snack to have along the way). A very nice retired couple pulled up to share the table with me. The were the typically friendly Kiwis who were quite happy to chat with some guy on a bike. When the learned that my grandfather had also been a dairy farmer, and I had once milked a cow, they seemed pleased to tell me all about their lived as 'kettle fermers'.
They told me about their one and only trip to the US. Turns at their experience of America was limited to the lovely environs of Los Angeles. They visited LA for a week and seemed quite impressed with the street that has all of the movie stars on it. They did ask me just how far away the mountains were. It seems the entire time they were in LA there was a 'strange haze' obscuring their view of the mountains making it difficult to determine how far a way they were. These folks were shocked to learn the brownish haze was actually smog. These nice people in their late seventies had never seen smog! Other than the sulphur fumes in Rotorua there is no air pollution in NZ. Certainly the one thing I will miss the most about living in Park City is the air. While Sugar House is suitably pleasant the air--particularly right now--sucks. Oh well, I'm gratefully some distance away from that particular unpleasantness at the moment.
The cycling along lake Taupo was quite beautiful. A giant volcanic crater now home to a gorgeous lake. I stopped several times to take pictures. At a particularly nice picnic area I stopped to finish the strawberries (a box of strawberries and several bananas have proven to be the perfect snack to have along the way). A very nice retired couple pulled up to share the table with me. The were the typically friendly Kiwis who were quite happy to chat with some guy on a bike. When the learned that my grandfather had also been a dairy farmer, and I had once milked a cow, they seemed pleased to tell me all about their lived as 'kettle fermers'.
They told me about their one and only trip to the US. Turns at their experience of America was limited to the lovely environs of Los Angeles. They visited LA for a week and seemed quite impressed with the street that has all of the movie stars on it. They did ask me just how far away the mountains were. It seems the entire time they were in LA there was a 'strange haze' obscuring their view of the mountains making it difficult to determine how far a way they were. These folks were shocked to learn the brownish haze was actually smog. These nice people in their late seventies had never seen smog! Other than the sulphur fumes in Rotorua there is no air pollution in NZ. Certainly the one thing I will miss the most about living in Park City is the air. While Sugar House is suitably pleasant the air--particularly right now--sucks. Oh well, I'm gratefully some distance away from that particular unpleasantness at the moment.
Day 13
Rotorua to Taupo 83 km
It was a perfect day for cycling. The trip out of the pleasant but occasionally sulphuric Rotorua went through the Karangari forest plantation. Not quite the same thing as a forest in the way a lawn is not quite the same thing as grassland, but still very nice. After the turn off onto a quite side road it was idyllic: no wind, no clouds, about 70 degrees only the occasional truck. Not particularly scenic unless you like sheep in their paddocks but a fine day nonetheless. I did see what appeared to be a nuclear reactor tower out in the middle of nowhere. It seemed rather out of place amongst all the sheep. Eventually I passed by the access road to discover it was a timber drying kiln. Definitely the largest kiln I've every seen.
Anyway the cycling today was superb if a bit long. It seems that around 60 km is about right for me. By the 80th kilometer I was thinking about dinner. Speaking of food one rather surprising thing here in NZ is the exorbitant(from my experience)price of food. A powerade that would cost a dollar in the US is typically 4.00NZ, and I consume a lot of powerades. Nonetheless upon arriving in Taupo I decided some meat would be just the thing. Not that I was thinking about the cute little sheep grazing on the hill sides, but I stopped into a not particularly expensive looking restaurant and was shocked to find the lamb shanks were 27.50NZ. How in a country of 3 million people and 17 million sheep lambshanks could be 27.50 is beyond me. I went to the subway.
It was a perfect day for cycling. The trip out of the pleasant but occasionally sulphuric Rotorua went through the Karangari forest plantation. Not quite the same thing as a forest in the way a lawn is not quite the same thing as grassland, but still very nice. After the turn off onto a quite side road it was idyllic: no wind, no clouds, about 70 degrees only the occasional truck. Not particularly scenic unless you like sheep in their paddocks but a fine day nonetheless. I did see what appeared to be a nuclear reactor tower out in the middle of nowhere. It seemed rather out of place amongst all the sheep. Eventually I passed by the access road to discover it was a timber drying kiln. Definitely the largest kiln I've every seen.
Anyway the cycling today was superb if a bit long. It seems that around 60 km is about right for me. By the 80th kilometer I was thinking about dinner. Speaking of food one rather surprising thing here in NZ is the exorbitant(from my experience)price of food. A powerade that would cost a dollar in the US is typically 4.00NZ, and I consume a lot of powerades. Nonetheless upon arriving in Taupo I decided some meat would be just the thing. Not that I was thinking about the cute little sheep grazing on the hill sides, but I stopped into a not particularly expensive looking restaurant and was shocked to find the lamb shanks were 27.50NZ. How in a country of 3 million people and 17 million sheep lambshanks could be 27.50 is beyond me. I went to the subway.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Day 12
Rotorua 0 km
Despite the occasional sulphur fumes I decided, in keeping with a journey that has no timetable and no destination, to stay another day here in Rotorua. I'm off to the government gardens that while apparently contain the not yet seen sulphuric geothermal vents, appears quite shady and a good spot to sit and write in my notebook. I've intended to do that each day, but have spent most of that time sleeping. The holiday park is quite nice, a definite step up form Te Puke. I'm set up next to a number of other tents occupied by backpackers. I've seen many touring cyclist on the roads and in the two 'big cities' of Rotorua and Tarangua I've come across several hikers. While many might find riding a push bike as its known here in NZ, backpackers seem to congregate in the cities, apparently riding buses with the retiree set in between. The in bewteens have to me been the nicest parts so far. Tomorrow I'm continuing south to Taupo.
Despite the occasional sulphur fumes I decided, in keeping with a journey that has no timetable and no destination, to stay another day here in Rotorua. I'm off to the government gardens that while apparently contain the not yet seen sulphuric geothermal vents, appears quite shady and a good spot to sit and write in my notebook. I've intended to do that each day, but have spent most of that time sleeping. The holiday park is quite nice, a definite step up form Te Puke. I'm set up next to a number of other tents occupied by backpackers. I've seen many touring cyclist on the roads and in the two 'big cities' of Rotorua and Tarangua I've come across several hikers. While many might find riding a push bike as its known here in NZ, backpackers seem to congregate in the cities, apparently riding buses with the retiree set in between. The in bewteens have to me been the nicest parts so far. Tomorrow I'm continuing south to Taupo.
Day 11
Te Puke to Rotorua 65km
I got up quite early and was out of Te Puke with the sun. The campground there was kind of scuzzy, right next to the road. The town itself was something of a dilapidated sawmill community with nowhere good to eat. On the way out of town and along the road I could not help but notice the large number of logging trucks headed to and from my proposed destination. Additionally the weather report called for thunderstorms and more ominously hail in Whaketane. I'm prepared for rain but my experience of hail on a bike has not been a good one. Given this journey doesn't actually involve a destination, I ended up turning south and heading to Rotorua. The route was nice and not too busy of a road. The weather called for thunderstorms across the entire north island in the afternoon but as I arrived around 1:00pm there were but a few clouds in the sky.
The weather has been great so far. I had read many accounts of lots and lots of rain. As I was watching the weather before I left it did indeed appear to rain daily through the month of November. However as of mid December hardly any has fallen. Indeed the lack of rain is becoming something of an issue for the people here. The large cattle and sheep industry is facing something of a crisis as the food supply for the animals dries up. It is interesting to note that the subject of climate change, as evidenced by the various newspaper articles I've read is widely considered one of obvious fact. In contrast to the US where it seems--at least for FoxNews and the Sens Inhofe types--a political issue. In defense of Sen Inhofe who while clearly a scientific illiterate has used the issue to great political advantage. Perhaps less so when and if Oklahoma becomes a dust bowl.
Anyway, Rotorua is an interesting town. Peddallers' paradise calls it steeped in Maori culture but claims 'the place stinks'. Upon entering town I discovered this later statement to be one of fact rather than general opinion. There is clearly some geothemal activity of a sulphuric nature going on somewhere. I looked into experiencing some of the Maori culture, but a Hagi (Maori feast and show of some sort) in addition to being very expensive looked rather touristy. I'd rather not participate in touristy events so instead I went to the cinema and saw Avatar (again).
I got up quite early and was out of Te Puke with the sun. The campground there was kind of scuzzy, right next to the road. The town itself was something of a dilapidated sawmill community with nowhere good to eat. On the way out of town and along the road I could not help but notice the large number of logging trucks headed to and from my proposed destination. Additionally the weather report called for thunderstorms and more ominously hail in Whaketane. I'm prepared for rain but my experience of hail on a bike has not been a good one. Given this journey doesn't actually involve a destination, I ended up turning south and heading to Rotorua. The route was nice and not too busy of a road. The weather called for thunderstorms across the entire north island in the afternoon but as I arrived around 1:00pm there were but a few clouds in the sky.
The weather has been great so far. I had read many accounts of lots and lots of rain. As I was watching the weather before I left it did indeed appear to rain daily through the month of November. However as of mid December hardly any has fallen. Indeed the lack of rain is becoming something of an issue for the people here. The large cattle and sheep industry is facing something of a crisis as the food supply for the animals dries up. It is interesting to note that the subject of climate change, as evidenced by the various newspaper articles I've read is widely considered one of obvious fact. In contrast to the US where it seems--at least for FoxNews and the Sens Inhofe types--a political issue. In defense of Sen Inhofe who while clearly a scientific illiterate has used the issue to great political advantage. Perhaps less so when and if Oklahoma becomes a dust bowl.
Anyway, Rotorua is an interesting town. Peddallers' paradise calls it steeped in Maori culture but claims 'the place stinks'. Upon entering town I discovered this later statement to be one of fact rather than general opinion. There is clearly some geothemal activity of a sulphuric nature going on somewhere. I looked into experiencing some of the Maori culture, but a Hagi (Maori feast and show of some sort) in addition to being very expensive looked rather touristy. I'd rather not participate in touristy events so instead I went to the cinema and saw Avatar (again).
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Day 10
Kitikiti to Te Puke 71 km
Today was the inevitable day of traveling along a busy road. My itinerary, such as it is doesn't include too many like it. About 30km more of S2 tomorrow and then onto the north coast of the Bay of Plenty. Nigel's book says: "some call it the best coastal cycling route in the world' we shall see. I look forward to getting the camera out upon pedalling away from this kinda blah spot I'm in now.
Today was the inevitable day of traveling along a busy road. My itinerary, such as it is doesn't include too many like it. About 30km more of S2 tomorrow and then onto the north coast of the Bay of Plenty. Nigel's book says: "some call it the best coastal cycling route in the world' we shall see. I look forward to getting the camera out upon pedalling away from this kinda blah spot I'm in now.
Day 9
Rest Day in Kitikiti
It was so nice here at the Saphire Springs camp site that I decided to stay an extra day. A couple from Australia set up a tent next to me. Jess and Tom are on the final leg of their (latest) world vacation. They've spent the last eight months in Nepal, Eygpt, Western Europe, South America and now New Zealand. The invited me over for a glass of wine and cheese and regaled me with stories of their ongoing adventures. What impressed me among many things about their travels is they aren't particularly wealthy. They're both retired secondary school teachers, but they made the choice many years ago that they wanted to travel. So they saved their money, travel cheap (living in a tent like me) and have made their way around the world several times over the last decade or so. We agreed that life is short and the aquisition of things doesn't in anyway add up to anything. Experience is what matters.
Oh, and I learned that names of places starting with Wha is pronounced 'fah'. Tomorrow I'm off to Whakanui. I'll let you sound it out.
It was so nice here at the Saphire Springs camp site that I decided to stay an extra day. A couple from Australia set up a tent next to me. Jess and Tom are on the final leg of their (latest) world vacation. They've spent the last eight months in Nepal, Eygpt, Western Europe, South America and now New Zealand. The invited me over for a glass of wine and cheese and regaled me with stories of their ongoing adventures. What impressed me among many things about their travels is they aren't particularly wealthy. They're both retired secondary school teachers, but they made the choice many years ago that they wanted to travel. So they saved their money, travel cheap (living in a tent like me) and have made their way around the world several times over the last decade or so. We agreed that life is short and the aquisition of things doesn't in anyway add up to anything. Experience is what matters.
Oh, and I learned that names of places starting with Wha is pronounced 'fah'. Tomorrow I'm off to Whakanui. I'll let you sound it out.
Day 8
Whangamata to Katikati 65km
The road from Whangamata to Hahei was very picturesque. I stop at Whiritoa where there was a very nice beach, had lunch and watched some kids no older than eight or so having a surfing contest.
The state road out of Wahei was also very scenic but rather busy. I turned off S2 after Katikati and 3km down a side road was the nicest campground so far. The last two were quite crowded with vacationing Kiwis and this one, situated next to a lovely stream isnearly deserted and pleasantly shady. I think I'll stay here tomorrow and write in my notebook--the paper one which weighs about 99% less than the electronic one I sent home at Whitianga.
The road from Whangamata to Hahei was very picturesque. I stop at Whiritoa where there was a very nice beach, had lunch and watched some kids no older than eight or so having a surfing contest.
The state road out of Wahei was also very scenic but rather busy. I turned off S2 after Katikati and 3km down a side road was the nicest campground so far. The last two were quite crowded with vacationing Kiwis and this one, situated next to a lovely stream isnearly deserted and pleasantly shady. I think I'll stay here tomorrow and write in my notebook--the paper one which weighs about 99% less than the electronic one I sent home at Whitianga.
Day 7
Hahei Bay to Whagamata 62km
Once again I ran into Gerta, once again at the top of a big hill. She had run into a car camper from Germany and looked happy to be speaking the native language. I waved and headed on down and onto the next hill. THe east coast of the Coromandel is really quite beautiful even, as Nigel says in the rain. It did rain briefly, long enough for me to get out the raincoat and start the ascent of the Opoiutere saddle. At the top I was wetter on the inside than the outside, but then the sun came out and I finished several apples before a very scenic ride down into Whagamata. Well, mostly scenic--it is quite sad to see the forest cutting industry has done to NZ what they've done to the Pacific Northwest. Beautiful forests between vast swaths of complete devestation. But then again I own several wooden guitars.
I ran into Gerta again, this time at the Subway in Whangamata. She decided to press on to Hahei. I noticed a big hill between Whangamata and Hahei and set of to find a camp site, where I set up my tent next to Tia and Kurt from Holland. The next morning I day breakfast with them where the regaled me with stories of their world touring adventures: Chile, South Africa, Sri Lanka, around the perimeter of the continental US. I asked them how far they've pedalled their bikes and they had no idea. But volunteered that Kurt, with his yearly tour and just commuting around Holland does about 20,0000km a year, Tia only 15,000km. That's about halfway around the globe each year. Apparently they belong to a cycling club that hands out a little globe when you finish 40,000km (the circumference of the earth). Kurt quite reporting his miles after his fourth globe.
Once again I ran into Gerta, once again at the top of a big hill. She had run into a car camper from Germany and looked happy to be speaking the native language. I waved and headed on down and onto the next hill. THe east coast of the Coromandel is really quite beautiful even, as Nigel says in the rain. It did rain briefly, long enough for me to get out the raincoat and start the ascent of the Opoiutere saddle. At the top I was wetter on the inside than the outside, but then the sun came out and I finished several apples before a very scenic ride down into Whagamata. Well, mostly scenic--it is quite sad to see the forest cutting industry has done to NZ what they've done to the Pacific Northwest. Beautiful forests between vast swaths of complete devestation. But then again I own several wooden guitars.
I ran into Gerta again, this time at the Subway in Whangamata. She decided to press on to Hahei. I noticed a big hill between Whangamata and Hahei and set of to find a camp site, where I set up my tent next to Tia and Kurt from Holland. The next morning I day breakfast with them where the regaled me with stories of their world touring adventures: Chile, South Africa, Sri Lanka, around the perimeter of the continental US. I asked them how far they've pedalled their bikes and they had no idea. But volunteered that Kurt, with his yearly tour and just commuting around Holland does about 20,0000km a year, Tia only 15,000km. That's about halfway around the globe each year. Apparently they belong to a cycling club that hands out a little globe when you finish 40,000km (the circumference of the earth). Kurt quite reporting his miles after his fourth globe.
Day 6
Coromandel to Hahei Bay 76Km
The Whangapau hill was as difficult as advertised. Pushing the bike up was not really an option given how heavy the thing is (though they do call bicycles 'push bikes' here). I could barely get the thing started going up after stopping, which I did often. Shortly after making it to the to Gerta from Austria made the summit. I would guess Gerta started a good half hour after I did--she appears to be in excellent shape. She had come across Kurt and Tia from Holland while in Coromandel the day before and we both marveled at these retirees pedaling their way up and down the hills of New Zealand.
Gerta has all of her stuff in a trailer which on the way down appeared rather iffy. My bike with its pannier in front and back while heavy is quite stable and I was able to comfortably do 45kph going down. At the bottom I stopped at a family fruit stand (awesome strawberries) and Gerta blew right past. It was the last I saw of her till Whitinga, where I ran into her at the Subway sandwich shop. After lunch with Gerta I took the ferry and headed out to the coast at Hahei bay. The Holiday park there was the biggest and most crowded I've seen so far. There was a big sign saying no space was available. It was late, I was tired and rather dijected I went back to consult my map and Nigel's book (which does say the Coromandel is rather crowded with vacationing Kiwis in the summer). At this point a very nice lady came out of the office, said she could see the resignation in my face while outside the door and offered to find me a place. Gratefully I sandwiched myself into a small spot next to a couple from England about to finish a tour they'd started three weeks earlier in ChristChurch. Apparently it rained on the almost every day. Sounds like the plan of staying on the north island at the outset was a good one. We talked some about the Whangapau hill they'd be crossing the next day, then I went down to the lovely beach and sat for what was left of the afternoon.
The Whangapau hill was as difficult as advertised. Pushing the bike up was not really an option given how heavy the thing is (though they do call bicycles 'push bikes' here). I could barely get the thing started going up after stopping, which I did often. Shortly after making it to the to Gerta from Austria made the summit. I would guess Gerta started a good half hour after I did--she appears to be in excellent shape. She had come across Kurt and Tia from Holland while in Coromandel the day before and we both marveled at these retirees pedaling their way up and down the hills of New Zealand.
Gerta has all of her stuff in a trailer which on the way down appeared rather iffy. My bike with its pannier in front and back while heavy is quite stable and I was able to comfortably do 45kph going down. At the bottom I stopped at a family fruit stand (awesome strawberries) and Gerta blew right past. It was the last I saw of her till Whitinga, where I ran into her at the Subway sandwich shop. After lunch with Gerta I took the ferry and headed out to the coast at Hahei bay. The Holiday park there was the biggest and most crowded I've seen so far. There was a big sign saying no space was available. It was late, I was tired and rather dijected I went back to consult my map and Nigel's book (which does say the Coromandel is rather crowded with vacationing Kiwis in the summer). At this point a very nice lady came out of the office, said she could see the resignation in my face while outside the door and offered to find me a place. Gratefully I sandwiched myself into a small spot next to a couple from England about to finish a tour they'd started three weeks earlier in ChristChurch. Apparently it rained on the almost every day. Sounds like the plan of staying on the north island at the outset was a good one. We talked some about the Whangapau hill they'd be crossing the next day, then I went down to the lovely beach and sat for what was left of the afternoon.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Day 5
Tapu to Coromandel Town 37.5 K
A very short day today. Kurt and Tia left the campground at Tapu before me as I decided to make a second cup of coffee before heading up the Coromandel Peninsula. I caught up with the Dutch folks at the bottom of the Kiatu hill. This is a picture looking back on the Firth of Thames about halfway up--the first hill. It turns out the Kiatu Hill is actually 3 hills.
I felt pretty good climbing today. I was kind of worried about my conditioning as I had only been able to climb to the top of East Canyon (about 1000 meters) a few times before the snow fell in ernest, leaving me a month of sedentary nothing to do but loose conditioning. Anyway, I made it to the top as did both Tia and Kurt arriving at the bench (yes another nice picnic area at the top of a long climb) not too long after I got there. Should I be so lucky as to climb like that a dozen or more years hence. Tia took this picture at the top of the first hill looking north towards Kikowhakarere Bay.
Here is a picture from the top of the last of three hills of the day
After arriving in Coromandel (around noon) I decided to take a shower, have an expensive lunch in this very touristy town and work a bit on the computer, i.e. take a nap. I ran into Tia and Kurt while looking for a spot to eat. They of course decided to continue and press on up the Wangapoua hill. My excuse was the holiday park has WiFi access and I need to wash all of this sunscreen off.
A very short day today. Kurt and Tia left the campground at Tapu before me as I decided to make a second cup of coffee before heading up the Coromandel Peninsula. I caught up with the Dutch folks at the bottom of the Kiatu hill. This is a picture looking back on the Firth of Thames about halfway up--the first hill. It turns out the Kiatu Hill is actually 3 hills.
I felt pretty good climbing today. I was kind of worried about my conditioning as I had only been able to climb to the top of East Canyon (about 1000 meters) a few times before the snow fell in ernest, leaving me a month of sedentary nothing to do but loose conditioning. Anyway, I made it to the top as did both Tia and Kurt arriving at the bench (yes another nice picnic area at the top of a long climb) not too long after I got there. Should I be so lucky as to climb like that a dozen or more years hence. Tia took this picture at the top of the first hill looking north towards Kikowhakarere Bay.
Here is a picture from the top of the last of three hills of the day
After arriving in Coromandel (around noon) I decided to take a shower, have an expensive lunch in this very touristy town and work a bit on the computer, i.e. take a nap. I ran into Tia and Kurt while looking for a spot to eat. They of course decided to continue and press on up the Wangapoua hill. My excuse was the holiday park has WiFi access and I need to wash all of this sunscreen off.
Day 4
Miranda to Tapu 56k, 3 hours
A short and very pleasant ride today. I had a tailwind most of the way and the rubber band on the fender worked great. As I rounded the southern end of the Firth of Thames and turned north I ran into Brem from Belgium.
Brem’s rear tire was in serious trouble: he had just popped two spokes on the same side and was in real danger of collapsing the entire wheel. I followed Brem into Thames were the very nice Kiwi at the bike shop gave me a bolt for the fender and assured Brem he’d have his tire fixed up and have Brem on his way in a few hours.
Brem was just ending a two month tour of both the north and south islands. He was finishing the route I more or less intend to complete in four months. That’s nearly 3000 kilometers a month for Brem. A very large number that lends at least some believability to Brem’s plan to begin another tour in May when he’s off to Alaska and subsequently pedal his way to Patagonia (yes, the Patagonia on the southern tip of Argentina) That’s something like 27,000 kilometers. He says it should take him about a year.
This brought up the question of just what, exactly, Brem does for a living that allows him to spend a year riding his bike from the arctic to the antarctic circle. The answer apparently is that he lives in one of those terrible socialist countries that values how one lives more than how much money one accumulates. Brem has been banking his government mandated leave time from work and his office job (it was never clear what that was and clearly didn’t matter) will be awaiting him when he returns. Oh, and the government gives him a significant tax break because he doesn’t own a car and instead commutes by bike to his job--whatever it is--in Brussels. Oh, and if he gets hurt on his adventure the socialist government run health care system will pay up to 2,000,000 euro in medical expenses (about 4,000,000 US) and repatriate him back to Belgium after he has recovered. I of course am on my own.
After saying goodbye to Brem I headed up the lovely west coast of the Coromandel Peninsula and did indeed stop at the first campground I came across. Shortly after arriving a friendly couple from Holland pulled up and set their tent next to mine.
Kurt and Tia are at least in their mid sixties and are beginning a two month tour that will take them to Christchurch. I’m afraid these very nice retirees are going to blow right past me tomorrow as we all head up and over the Wangapoua hill (which Brem, the adventure cyclist from hell, described as very steep). Kurt and Tia--also from one of those terrible socialist country we hear so much about in the USA--spend every winter touring somewhere warm. This year New Zealand. Last year they rode their bikes from Bangkok to Ho Chi Min city, the year before that they rode around Cuba.
Of course both the Dutch couple and the guy from Flanders talked with me in English.
I feel quite provincial.
Sunset looking across the Firth of Thames towards Miranda
A short and very pleasant ride today. I had a tailwind most of the way and the rubber band on the fender worked great. As I rounded the southern end of the Firth of Thames and turned north I ran into Brem from Belgium.
Brem’s rear tire was in serious trouble: he had just popped two spokes on the same side and was in real danger of collapsing the entire wheel. I followed Brem into Thames were the very nice Kiwi at the bike shop gave me a bolt for the fender and assured Brem he’d have his tire fixed up and have Brem on his way in a few hours.
Brem was just ending a two month tour of both the north and south islands. He was finishing the route I more or less intend to complete in four months. That’s nearly 3000 kilometers a month for Brem. A very large number that lends at least some believability to Brem’s plan to begin another tour in May when he’s off to Alaska and subsequently pedal his way to Patagonia (yes, the Patagonia on the southern tip of Argentina) That’s something like 27,000 kilometers. He says it should take him about a year.
This brought up the question of just what, exactly, Brem does for a living that allows him to spend a year riding his bike from the arctic to the antarctic circle. The answer apparently is that he lives in one of those terrible socialist countries that values how one lives more than how much money one accumulates. Brem has been banking his government mandated leave time from work and his office job (it was never clear what that was and clearly didn’t matter) will be awaiting him when he returns. Oh, and the government gives him a significant tax break because he doesn’t own a car and instead commutes by bike to his job--whatever it is--in Brussels. Oh, and if he gets hurt on his adventure the socialist government run health care system will pay up to 2,000,000 euro in medical expenses (about 4,000,000 US) and repatriate him back to Belgium after he has recovered. I of course am on my own.
After saying goodbye to Brem I headed up the lovely west coast of the Coromandel Peninsula and did indeed stop at the first campground I came across. Shortly after arriving a friendly couple from Holland pulled up and set their tent next to mine.
Kurt and Tia are at least in their mid sixties and are beginning a two month tour that will take them to Christchurch. I’m afraid these very nice retirees are going to blow right past me tomorrow as we all head up and over the Wangapoua hill (which Brem, the adventure cyclist from hell, described as very steep). Kurt and Tia--also from one of those terrible socialist country we hear so much about in the USA--spend every winter touring somewhere warm. This year New Zealand. Last year they rode their bikes from Bangkok to Ho Chi Min city, the year before that they rode around Cuba.
Of course both the Dutch couple and the guy from Flanders talked with me in English.
I feel quite provincial.
Sunset looking across the Firth of Thames towards Miranda
Day 3
Miranda to Miranda via the takeway at Kaiaua (26k 1.2 hours)
So I did indeed stayed an extra day at the holiday park. Not that I wasn’t feeling up to riding, actually I woke up feeling great. It was however pouring rain. I figure there will be plenty of opportunities to ride in the rain, but my tent was set up, I was dry so I made a dash to the kitchen for hot water and spent the day sleeping and writing. I can report that the Ortlieb panniers are indeed completely waterproof, as is the tent. However the Axiom handlebar bag is definitely not and Nigel’s book is quite waterlogged.
The sun came out in the afternoon and I rode back to the takeaway at Kaiaua. The nice receptionist at the holiday park office suggested the takeway there was not so good and the one in Kaiaua was excellent--it was. Along the way back the bolt fell out of the front fender. It was the one fastener on the bike for which I did not have the appropriate tool and so I just hand tightened it at the airport--and promptly forgot about that dubious setup (doh!) Given that experience I think I’ll give the bike a good preflight with my multitool each morning. For now the (sturdy?) rubber band that held the tent poles together is securing the front fender.
Here's a picture of my camping spot with the bike ready to go the next morning:
So I did indeed stayed an extra day at the holiday park. Not that I wasn’t feeling up to riding, actually I woke up feeling great. It was however pouring rain. I figure there will be plenty of opportunities to ride in the rain, but my tent was set up, I was dry so I made a dash to the kitchen for hot water and spent the day sleeping and writing. I can report that the Ortlieb panniers are indeed completely waterproof, as is the tent. However the Axiom handlebar bag is definitely not and Nigel’s book is quite waterlogged.
The sun came out in the afternoon and I rode back to the takeaway at Kaiaua. The nice receptionist at the holiday park office suggested the takeway there was not so good and the one in Kaiaua was excellent--it was. Along the way back the bolt fell out of the front fender. It was the one fastener on the bike for which I did not have the appropriate tool and so I just hand tightened it at the airport--and promptly forgot about that dubious setup (doh!) Given that experience I think I’ll give the bike a good preflight with my multitool each morning. For now the (sturdy?) rubber band that held the tent poles together is securing the front fender.
Here's a picture of my camping spot with the bike ready to go the next morning:
Day 2
Manukau to Miranda via Papakura and Kawakawa Bay. 96km, 6 hours
A great first full day of cycling, but several lessons learned: Any opportunity to stop and get water or food should not be missed. I didn’t actually run out of water, but I came close. I have also somewhat underestimated how many calories I’ll be consuming. Cole, a student of mine who did a cross country tour of the USA suggested peanut butter and honey sandwiches would be an excellent staple. Smart fellow Cole. I had no idea how good three peanut butter and honey sandwiches would be, and a box of strawberries, and three apples, and two bananas, and two sausage wraps, and two fried tiapa fish sticks, and two chicken legs and a heaping plate of corn and feta cheese. Here's a picture from I guess what should be called second breakfast. I had only known of polo as a theoretical concept till today.
Anyway I’m sitting here as the sun goes down munching down the last of my M&Ms feeling not quite hungry.
The other, very important lesson is stop at the FIRST camp site I come across. I had no intention of doing nearly 100k the second day in New Zealand. 50k-75k would have been more than enough. I had the chance to stop at the holiday park at Orere Point about 60k in, but it looked kinda crowded so I pressed on down the coast of the Firth of Thames. The DOC reserve at Matingarahi was playing host to a raucous Maori party, which probably would have been quite entertaining, but I kind of wanted to sleep. So after explaining to all the cute little kids who converged on my preposterously laden bike that, no I was not the mailman, I decided to go on just a bit further. Many, many klicks later it was getting on 7:00pm with nothing but sheep and stern warning signs insisting there was to be absolutely no camping on the environmentally sensitive coastal reserves. (Not sure how environmentally sensitive the sheep would be.)
As the shadows were getting fretfully long I was getting somewhat anxious and considering wasting money on the next hotel that presented itself. I was actually getting cramps in my legs and beginning to wonder if something would show up before dark. After thinking along these lines fir a while it seemed much better to just go with the flow and let fate take its course. Once the decision was made to simply enjoy the rest of the afternoon and see what would happen, literally around the next corner was a sign announcing the happy news that the Miranda holiday park was but 2 kilometers away. Downhill as it turned out.
New Zealand Holiday Parks: Nigel Rushton’s Pedaller’s Paradise describes them as kinda pricey but a great place to meet Kiwis. No sooner had I paid the $20 for a tent site (a grand bargain all things considered) and started unpacking that a Kiwi family came over with the steaming chicken legs and veggies. It was the best meal of the day. I gratefully inhaled it while they were talking to me. Everyone I’ve meet so far wants to talk to me. I’ve read the people here are quite friendly. So far this has been more true than I imagined. Perhaps its my funny accent but, everyone wants to know where I’m from. So far a majority not only knows of Utah, but have actually been to Zion’s park. Not only friendly but well traveled! I’m beginning to think I’m from a third world country. The holiday parks are a case in point: A wonderful place with everything from tent sites to private lodges. There is a communal dining area, laundry, showers (that was VERY nice) and WiFi access. Apparently holiday parks exists all over the country. In my experience America has nothing comparable.
Anyway, no reason to complain about a place that is on the other side of the globe and in the frozen grip of winter. It’s summer here and I have Nigel’s books to give me a heads up as to what’s next. Speaking of the Pedaller’s paradise books; I came upon the first spot where one of Nigel’s topographical maps has a line that goes more or less straight up. Tuopoa hill between Kawakawa bay and Oere point: 160 meters up in about 1.3 kilometers. On my mountain bike this would be no big deal. Of course the blur doesn’t weigh 80 pounds. Immediately into the granny gear at the bottom, I was pouring sweat by the top where sure enough the Kiwis had placed a nice bench. I finished off the strawberries and the second and third peanut butter and honey sandwiches on the comfortable bench watching a procession of RV’s grind their transmissions up the final stretch. It is probably good I didn’t head to the southern island and then cross the Alps on my second day as was the plan when I was looking at Nigel’s maps sitting in the office. While nothing called Alps exist in the north, its still rather hilly. Some 100k down and around the Firth of Thames Nigel has kindly pointed out the Wangapoua hill which climbs over 350 meters in 1.5k. Nigel calls it rather steep. I might stay here at the holiday park an extra day, it has a nice hot springs I can sit in.
A great first full day of cycling, but several lessons learned: Any opportunity to stop and get water or food should not be missed. I didn’t actually run out of water, but I came close. I have also somewhat underestimated how many calories I’ll be consuming. Cole, a student of mine who did a cross country tour of the USA suggested peanut butter and honey sandwiches would be an excellent staple. Smart fellow Cole. I had no idea how good three peanut butter and honey sandwiches would be, and a box of strawberries, and three apples, and two bananas, and two sausage wraps, and two fried tiapa fish sticks, and two chicken legs and a heaping plate of corn and feta cheese. Here's a picture from I guess what should be called second breakfast. I had only known of polo as a theoretical concept till today.
Anyway I’m sitting here as the sun goes down munching down the last of my M&Ms feeling not quite hungry.
The other, very important lesson is stop at the FIRST camp site I come across. I had no intention of doing nearly 100k the second day in New Zealand. 50k-75k would have been more than enough. I had the chance to stop at the holiday park at Orere Point about 60k in, but it looked kinda crowded so I pressed on down the coast of the Firth of Thames. The DOC reserve at Matingarahi was playing host to a raucous Maori party, which probably would have been quite entertaining, but I kind of wanted to sleep. So after explaining to all the cute little kids who converged on my preposterously laden bike that, no I was not the mailman, I decided to go on just a bit further. Many, many klicks later it was getting on 7:00pm with nothing but sheep and stern warning signs insisting there was to be absolutely no camping on the environmentally sensitive coastal reserves. (Not sure how environmentally sensitive the sheep would be.)
As the shadows were getting fretfully long I was getting somewhat anxious and considering wasting money on the next hotel that presented itself. I was actually getting cramps in my legs and beginning to wonder if something would show up before dark. After thinking along these lines fir a while it seemed much better to just go with the flow and let fate take its course. Once the decision was made to simply enjoy the rest of the afternoon and see what would happen, literally around the next corner was a sign announcing the happy news that the Miranda holiday park was but 2 kilometers away. Downhill as it turned out.
New Zealand Holiday Parks: Nigel Rushton’s Pedaller’s Paradise describes them as kinda pricey but a great place to meet Kiwis. No sooner had I paid the $20 for a tent site (a grand bargain all things considered) and started unpacking that a Kiwi family came over with the steaming chicken legs and veggies. It was the best meal of the day. I gratefully inhaled it while they were talking to me. Everyone I’ve meet so far wants to talk to me. I’ve read the people here are quite friendly. So far this has been more true than I imagined. Perhaps its my funny accent but, everyone wants to know where I’m from. So far a majority not only knows of Utah, but have actually been to Zion’s park. Not only friendly but well traveled! I’m beginning to think I’m from a third world country. The holiday parks are a case in point: A wonderful place with everything from tent sites to private lodges. There is a communal dining area, laundry, showers (that was VERY nice) and WiFi access. Apparently holiday parks exists all over the country. In my experience America has nothing comparable.
Anyway, no reason to complain about a place that is on the other side of the globe and in the frozen grip of winter. It’s summer here and I have Nigel’s books to give me a heads up as to what’s next. Speaking of the Pedaller’s paradise books; I came upon the first spot where one of Nigel’s topographical maps has a line that goes more or less straight up. Tuopoa hill between Kawakawa bay and Oere point: 160 meters up in about 1.3 kilometers. On my mountain bike this would be no big deal. Of course the blur doesn’t weigh 80 pounds. Immediately into the granny gear at the bottom, I was pouring sweat by the top where sure enough the Kiwis had placed a nice bench. I finished off the strawberries and the second and third peanut butter and honey sandwiches on the comfortable bench watching a procession of RV’s grind their transmissions up the final stretch. It is probably good I didn’t head to the southern island and then cross the Alps on my second day as was the plan when I was looking at Nigel’s maps sitting in the office. While nothing called Alps exist in the north, its still rather hilly. Some 100k down and around the Firth of Thames Nigel has kindly pointed out the Wangapoua hill which climbs over 350 meters in 1.5k. Nigel calls it rather steep. I might stay here at the holiday park an extra day, it has a nice hot springs I can sit in.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Day 1
I arrived at the SLC international airport nearly three hours before my scheduled departure, but amazingly enough there was no problem getting me and my bike through security. I was on time but of course Delta wasn't. After taking $175 to carry the bike to LAX, Delta was more than an hour late getting their plane off the ground. This most inauspicious beginning was going to leave me perhaps 55 minutes to make the connection to Sydney. I sat next to Ellie, a remedial high school math teacher from California who--thanks to Delta--had maybe 20 minutes to make her flight home to Monterrey or spend new year's eve in LAX. Upon arrival this nice but very tough lady leapt from her seat and shoved her way to the front of the plane, right through the not very happy first class folks and was first off the plane--I was second.
First leg: 1000km 6hours.
Upon arrival in LA I had to run to the international terminal which naturally was on the opposite side of the airport from where Delta deposited me. The V Australia check in desk was set to close 5 minutes after I arrived. I was beginning to wonder about the final disposition on my bike and the duffle containing all my clothes, but the people at the check in counter were having themselves a bit of a party (it was new years eve) and were not to be put out by some sweaty guy frantically digging around for his passport. It seemed like a good idea to go with the flow, which was helpful because the far less festive TSA folks decided I looked rather suspicious and decided to give me and my belongings a complete inspection. My toothpaste apparently looked quite dangerous. Somehow I made it to the gate just as boarding began. To my surprise there was a big line--I somehow though a flight on new year's eve would be less crowded--but it did give me time to replace my toothpaste. I hope the Ellie didn't have to stay the night in LAX. I probably would have had I waited my turn to deplane.
Second leg: 2km 1 hour
The V Australia 777 was to say the least an improvement over Delta's rickety 737. I had a nice emergency exit seat with lots of leg room and a lovely personal entertainment system with dozens of movies. It was in the middle, not the aisle as I had hoped but considering the legroom appear it quite comfortable. After settling in I noticed one of the largest humans I've seen in quite sometime ambling down the aisle. Sure enough he was eyeing the open seat next to me. There was no doubt at least 40% of his total bulk would necessarily extend into my seat. Yikes. As this gentleman discussed with the flight crew his seat assignment I tried not to appear too interested in the outcome. As the plane was completely full it was decided that regulations concerning who occupies an emergency exit would be relax somewhat and in between take off and landing (about 13 hours) it would be okay for this massive gentleman to sit in the emergency exit. Yikes! He settled into his temporary location in the crew jumpseat directly opposite me, but the seatbelt was about four feet too short. At this point the crew bumped him up what sounded like the only other open seat on the airplane--in first class. It was a very happy solution for everyone involved.
Third leg: 12000km 13 hours
After a three hour layover in Sydney, I boarded an Emirates airbus 380 to Aukland which was even more luxurious than the 777. In addition to literally hundreds of movies in the personal entertainment system, there was a live feed from the camera in the tailwing. Watching this massive airplane take of and land was quite something. Riding on this European airplane operated by the UAE sat in stark contrast to the Delta experience.
Fourth leg: 2500km 6 hours.
It was quite the pleasant experience to see my bike box, along with about 5 others, waiting for me in the baggage claim area. After inspecting the bike the very nice customs official offered to take a break and personally walk me to the bike assembly area.
The bike assembly area!
I met Johnny in the bike assembly area, he is doing 3 weeks in Northland before heading off to South America for a 3 month tour.
I had considered riding the train to Wellington and starting my tour on the south island. But at this point I had had quite enough of traveling by gas powered conveyance so, after assembling the bike (in the bike assembly area!) and saying goodbye to Johnny I set off in a generally southern direction. I made it all the way to Manakua before stopping at the first backpacker hotel I came across and slept for 10 hours.
Fifth and final leg of day 1: 25km 1hour 25 minutes.
First leg: 1000km 6hours.
Upon arrival in LA I had to run to the international terminal which naturally was on the opposite side of the airport from where Delta deposited me. The V Australia check in desk was set to close 5 minutes after I arrived. I was beginning to wonder about the final disposition on my bike and the duffle containing all my clothes, but the people at the check in counter were having themselves a bit of a party (it was new years eve) and were not to be put out by some sweaty guy frantically digging around for his passport. It seemed like a good idea to go with the flow, which was helpful because the far less festive TSA folks decided I looked rather suspicious and decided to give me and my belongings a complete inspection. My toothpaste apparently looked quite dangerous. Somehow I made it to the gate just as boarding began. To my surprise there was a big line--I somehow though a flight on new year's eve would be less crowded--but it did give me time to replace my toothpaste. I hope the Ellie didn't have to stay the night in LAX. I probably would have had I waited my turn to deplane.
Second leg: 2km 1 hour
The V Australia 777 was to say the least an improvement over Delta's rickety 737. I had a nice emergency exit seat with lots of leg room and a lovely personal entertainment system with dozens of movies. It was in the middle, not the aisle as I had hoped but considering the legroom appear it quite comfortable. After settling in I noticed one of the largest humans I've seen in quite sometime ambling down the aisle. Sure enough he was eyeing the open seat next to me. There was no doubt at least 40% of his total bulk would necessarily extend into my seat. Yikes. As this gentleman discussed with the flight crew his seat assignment I tried not to appear too interested in the outcome. As the plane was completely full it was decided that regulations concerning who occupies an emergency exit would be relax somewhat and in between take off and landing (about 13 hours) it would be okay for this massive gentleman to sit in the emergency exit. Yikes! He settled into his temporary location in the crew jumpseat directly opposite me, but the seatbelt was about four feet too short. At this point the crew bumped him up what sounded like the only other open seat on the airplane--in first class. It was a very happy solution for everyone involved.
Third leg: 12000km 13 hours
After a three hour layover in Sydney, I boarded an Emirates airbus 380 to Aukland which was even more luxurious than the 777. In addition to literally hundreds of movies in the personal entertainment system, there was a live feed from the camera in the tailwing. Watching this massive airplane take of and land was quite something. Riding on this European airplane operated by the UAE sat in stark contrast to the Delta experience.
Fourth leg: 2500km 6 hours.
It was quite the pleasant experience to see my bike box, along with about 5 others, waiting for me in the baggage claim area. After inspecting the bike the very nice customs official offered to take a break and personally walk me to the bike assembly area.
The bike assembly area!
I met Johnny in the bike assembly area, he is doing 3 weeks in Northland before heading off to South America for a 3 month tour.
I had considered riding the train to Wellington and starting my tour on the south island. But at this point I had had quite enough of traveling by gas powered conveyance so, after assembling the bike (in the bike assembly area!) and saying goodbye to Johnny I set off in a generally southern direction. I made it all the way to Manakua before stopping at the first backpacker hotel I came across and slept for 10 hours.
Fifth and final leg of day 1: 25km 1hour 25 minutes.
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