Jack Daniels Remaining: 950mls
Kilometers Covered: 20km
If you failed to read my previous blog on my ride from
Brisbane to Sydney; you suck and it is your loss from now until the end of
eternity. But seriously (well, kind of seriously, you still should have read
it), I made my readers well aware of how much I DESPISE a headwind when riding.
After a glorious day of arrival (still, calm and maybe 22 degrees), the first day
of our ride was grey, cold and the winds of hell were blowing FROM the
direction we were headed. I half heatedly kitted up and rode round to the bike
shop with the boys to get Richard’s new seat clamp.
…and that was enough for me to declare I wasn’t riding.
Headwinds are not enjoyable. And I am in particular a sensitive little fairy
about them and refuse to ride in it. Let me <try> to give you my point of
view…
I don’t mind hills. A hill is the same hill today as it was
yesterday, as it will be tomorrow, as it will be in 10, or 100 years. Therefore
you have a known challenge that does not change itself on any given day. A
headwind just “appears” like a fart in an elevator. Something you don’t
necessarily have to contend with, but just happens to be there one day to piss
you off. A headwind could have been a tailwind (like the scent of a lady’s
perfume in said lift that makes you weak at the knees) or it could have been no
wind (like a lift as it should be – no noticeable smell). A headwind is the bane of my already VERY
fragile relationship with road cycling and something I am simply not willing to
deal with.
The boys told me I chose the right day to not ride. I thanked
them for their “support” (I think that's what it was). Anyway, a day spent with Sam the man in a van is
not the worst thing I can think of, and it was an enjoyable drive up towards the
designated meeting point (Castle Hill). A childish “doughy” in a van, 2 or 3
coffees and about 34 songs from our playlists later we caught up, one by one with
the boys as they rode from bad weather, through storm, through Armageddon on
their way up to castle hill. May I say good effort boys! Here is the grade of the
ride for you readers to help you appreciate the feat. Yeah, it sucked...
100km’s under their belt at Castle Hill, they were not keen
on the ride to Arthurs Pass, 50kms further up the road. Oddly (as we were in
the mountains), the skies cleared and the wind died down and we were greeted
with some spectacular scenery on the way to Arthurs Pass…. I was getting itchy
feet but could not get consent from a fellow rider. With 20kms to go to Arthurs
Pass we stopped for some photos. I kitted up. I rode. 20kms. Yeah not much but
it was a good way to start. And then Alex captures this shot. While I don’t
proclaim to like photos of myself and am probably the antithesis of vain, this
is a winner. Thanks Alex.
I rolled into Arthur's Pass. The backpackers we were staying
at there was a winner. Pub and food across the road, I couldn’t be happier.
I wanted to think of something witty to write about this shot in the pub at Arthur's pass, but Alex had just ridden that profile I showed earlier, the dude was shagged...
And here was my ride for the day...
Finally, I must say. New Zealand. Tourism. You’re doing it
right. Last time I visited the country I noticed the high quality of signage
and general attention to helping tourists experience the country. So we are in Arthur's Pass. Population 17 people, 8 Kia’s and
4 dead possums and we found this....
The photo doesn’t do it justice (it more
looks like a powerful camera flash). Infact it is a waterfall lite up with a
massive flood light and was REALLY effective.
And shhh, if you look carefully you will see a Samwise in
its natural habitat doing… Something...
On Christchurch…
If I may be serious for a moment, the evening before and
this morning with Sam, we had a look around Christchurch and it was a very
sobering experience. In February of 2011 (that’s nearly 5 years ago as of
penning this blog) a 6.3 magnitude earthquake struck Christchurch. The city
centre was out of bounds for a long time, and while cleaned up, the effects are
still clearly evident – most notable of which is the Christchurch Cathedral,
which seemingly still stands as a reminder of the event. The CBD is rather
barren, with many gravel parking lots, which are simply the vacant spaces of
demolished buildings. Further still were all the empty/derelict buildings. On
our drive, Sam and I also took a drive up to the hills surrounding Christchurch.
We stopped at a good viewing point, with a huge mansion behind us – on closer
inspection I noticed it clearly showed the scars of the quake with cracks in
the masonry patched up.
But as usual, a Kiwi never gives up, and for the most part Christchurch is well recovering.
Yours truly in a snap from up on the hills area of Christchurch....
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