Day 10 – Nice to have you, but now get out of our country Aussie!

Homeward bound…

I don’t actually want to say much about this day. The sad final day L. A token bit of sightseeing to fill the time, a coffee in Arrowtown, and the sad, sad farewell to the bang bus and the holiday was over…

Editorial Note…

Oh and all, on the 6^th day of the trip, this happened…. Welcome to the future boys!

Hope you enjoyed the read, and if you didn't. TS!

Day 9 – And on the 9th day, God created downhilling….

Jack Daniels Remaining: 0mls
Kilometers Ridden Today:71km's (mostly going downhill)

Highlight of the day – Despite 40+ Km’s of epic down-hilling, believe it or not, the highlight of the day came at around 11:45pm when a much older lady at a pub asked me “Do I swing”?

Today, Shawn and I opted in for a day of oh so epic down-hilling off the Skyline Gondola at Queenstown. It seems the track fairies had been sprinkling their magic since my last visit about 18 months previously. New tracks. Seriously well maintained old ones. It was heaven. Even if you don’t like downhill mountain biking, you have to appreciate this shit…

Cheesy photo of yours truly..

The day didn’t start too well, with the bike renters conveniently failing to tell us there was racing on that day, so half the trails were closed (until 1:30pm). Still we got out there and had a blast. My favourite run was a mix of three runs – Vertigo for the top, Thingamajig for the mid-section, and then onto the oh so sweat Thundergoat for the bottom. A flat tyre and some pedal on calf bleeding the only real downers of the day. Here is a map of the trails, likely spectacularly boring to all but you downhillers out there…

And here is the sqiggle from Strava of the day. Pretty cool how you can see the 13 distinct up (on the gondola) then down hill runs....

On 650b’s…

I chose to spend the extra $20 and give a 27.5 a try. For those of you somewhat more mountain bike challenged, it is the latest tyre sizing – a compromise between the traditional 26 inch wheel and the cross country specialist 29 inch. The jury is out... took me a while to dial in the cornering, though it did roll better on the straights.

Some others shots from the day....

The day was not completely over. Being the final night, we decided to hit the town. For a moment, there was a faint hope of twisting the iron arms of Paul, Richard and Shawn, alas; they pulled up stumps by 9ish, leaving rubber arm Saunders, Sam and Alex to fly the Aussie flag. It was a great night – a minor loss at the casino, a few rounds of pool… oh and a much more “senior” lady asking me, quite seriously “if I swing”. Nuff Said.

The boys helping me finish of my Jack Daniels on the final night....

 Final evening beers...

Day 8 – I hope you had the climb of your life…

Jack Daniels Remaining: 270mls
Kilometers Ridden Today: 34kms

For some unknown reason, I had set in my mind the idea of doing a hill climb to one of the ski resorts that endower the surrounding peaks of Queenstown. This is despite a week or so of riding, and with a day of down-hilling ahead of me. Initially I was considering the Remarkables, until I remembered it is a gravel and very treacherous road to the summit. So it was Coronet Peak. Richard and Shawn chose to take on the challenge with me. As usual, of course, they pumped out an hour of riding before breakfast and set off for the climb 20 minutes after me, eventually catching me towards the summit. Here I am being quickly hunted down by Shawn....

Now I have never been up Coronet Peak, but a quick Google search lead me to believe it should be a fairly doable climb – and would  be categorised as a category 1 climb if a race. The ride out from Queenstown was along the undulating road that takes you to the Shotover river/canyon, then onto the scenic arrow town. 7Km’s or so out is the turn off to Coronet peak. Immediately you start climbing. And you continue to climb for a gruelling 8Km’s to the resort. According to Bill Bryson’s “A Short History of Nearly Everything”, gravity is actually a rather weak force. But I can tell you that when on a bike climbing from 300 meters to around 1100 meters above sea level, it is an absolute bitch.

Optimism, on this climb was defined on this ride as knowing you were already in the easiest gear, but still giving that gear lever a push in the vain hope that another gear had magically appeared in the 23 seconds since you last tried reaching for another gear.

The ride was 8km’s of ascent, with little respite, with gradients of between 5 and 15%. Almost the entire way the destination was visible, way off in the distance. Shawn passed me at about 75% of the way up remarking “who’s idea was this” as he passed… Richard passed me a little further up the road – sticking with me for a few hundred metres before kicking again for the summit (I think holding with me was more in sympathy or support…).

With the destination clearly visible way up on yonder – way number one to demoralise a rider, the climb also had an uncanny knack of hiding its next painful stretch  just beyond the next corner – way number two to demoralise a rider. As I turned each bend, hoping that the road would flatten out, the snake of road would just re-present itself again, in all it’s 7+% grade glory.

Eventually I reached the top – Richard and Shawn there waiting for me of course...

Obligatory photo of man and bike in the snow… I’m going to send this one into modern man magazine.

Some other randoms....

I think the profile of the ride also paints a pretty good picture of what we did....

We didn’t stay at the summit long, sweaty bodies and chilling mountain air doesn’t mix well, so off for the bottom we set. What took me an hour to climb, was done in about 7 minutes on the way done. What a fast <and cold> decent!

Tiredness encroached on me pretty heavily that afternoon and I admit to a small nana nap.

Richard and Paul had gone out to get Muscles for seafood feast that evening. Shawn and I looked at them like they were idiots when they said they got a lift back with Sam and Alex. A minute later, Samwise and Alex entered. They had returned early from their adventure. The fellowship was back to full strength!

Day 7 - On top of the world! (well a New Zealand sealed road…)

Jack Daniels Remaining: 400mls
Kilometers Ridden Today: 71kms

The Armageddon of yesterday made way, for blue skies, a sunny and a CALM, bliss today. Riders...all in. We kitted up and set sail (that is after someone checked with me where the bang bus key was). We were all well aware of the ride today and its challenges; Wanaka to Queenstown via the Crown Range (Cardrona). A gradual climb that continued to kick up to the top of pass, which also happens to be the highest sealed road in New Zealand (at around 1100 metres I think). The record of the ride I did today says it all really....

Alex, Paul, Shawn and Richard passed me and disappeared into the distance, as usual. Most people who have been to NZ would be familiar with this pub…

I couldn't decide if I was inspired by this site along the way either. What has been seen, cannot be unseen....

Some fantasmagorical views along the way. Just man, bike and countryside....

The last part of that climb was death – I noticed the Garmin indicating a kick up to 16% grade at times. Scenery was stunning though once I hit the summit (highest sealed road in New Zealand)....

The decent was sweet! After a quick traverse, it was down some switchbacks and back onto the main road (a “test your brakes” sign made complete sense when 100 metres later a steep descending road ended abruptly at a T intersection with the main road!).

I think the climb destroyed me a bit today. the rather flat ride into Queenstown was pretty tough, but eventually I made it. Another 70km’s under my belt.

Our accommodation here was POOOORRRNO! The penthouse apartment of a block right by the lake; it was totally awesome.

We had all expected the bang bus to catch us, or not be far behind us. But appears Sam decided to do quite a hike in the Crown Range (after all, he is Nepalese – with one leg shorter than the other, a genetic modification to allow him to stand straight on a hillside). What a site it must have been to see 5 men exit an apartment with only white towels around their waist to greet a man in his van.

3 days in one of the best places in the world, Queenstown. I bee-lined for Vertigo bikes to reserve a bike for some downhill action on Saturday, but not before bidding farewell to Sam and Alex on their journey. Lambas bread in hand for energy (aka red wine), we bid them farewell and good luck as they would negotiate the Mine of Moria (aka Homer tunnel), and survive the furious onslaught of the Nazgul (aka the South Island Kia). This Kia gave me permission to photographic it against a stunning South Island backdrop. Payment was only a piece of rubber and a bolt. Seriously....

Left slightly deflated from the departure, the remaining members of fellowship decided to cook up a traditional feast in their absence (eh, pasta and vegetables). Thankfully during the evening, we received a photo which indicated Sam and Alex had found a suitable watering hole to replenish their energy as they negotiated the lands of Middle Earth. Here they are with their Lambas juice....

Editorial Note – Earplugs: One of man-kinds greatest inventions.

A few days ago, Richard bestowed upon me two tiny spongy earplugs – which proved to be my most important possession on the trip. Snoring is a bitch. And Wanaka was the one place where all 6 of us stayed in the same room. Shawn takes the prize as the only one who didn’t snore. 5 of the 6 of us in Wanaka were stirring Sauron of Mordor with our snoring. I woke midway through the night for a nature call and took out the ear plugs (because I must have made the odd assumption that I could not pee with ear plugs in). I counted 4 different, and LOAD snorers – Santo slept silently.

Day 6 – Damn you weather. Damn you! (shaking fist at the sky).

Jack Daniels Remaining: 490mls

Kilometers Ridden Today: 36kms

Rain. Wind. More rain. More wind.

Last time I went up Haast pass it was raining so hard it could have put the fires of Hell (or Mordor) out. This time was no different. Only this time, the hell storm of rain and wind did not end once we “passed the pass” and entered Otago. We stopped by a lake for some sightseeing. Had we chosen to get out and ride here, we would have had a tail wind sure, but it was so brutal it would have been unsafe and being blown into oncoming traffic was a serious risk. So grumpily we barreled back into the bang bus.

It was a real shame we didn’t ride today. Of all the potential riding, Haast pass was the feather I wanted in my cap. It’s a stunning journey in a car, so a bike would have been even better – with the added satisfaction of yet another climb conquered. Apart from a few stop-offs to photograph waterfalls and lakes, it was a fairly benign journey. 

A few happy snaps along the way which I believe exacerbate the stunningly stunning scenery. Thankfully no one produced the tool accessory of the decade - the selfie stick. Well played boys.

Wanaka was not the picture of beauty when we arrived either – those that hadn’t been took some photos of the lake. I sussed out some accommodation and did what I do best before beer o’clock – drink coffee.
Oooooh. I feel a pano shot coming on.. here it comes...

BAM!

We stayed at the Youth Hostel. This was the only time we all stayed in the same room (a 6 birth dorm with kitchenette and bathroom). I was pretty chuffed with myself, as in talking to the lady at the counter, we were awarded the “low carb” rate for our efforts in riding so the room cost just $22 each rather than $32, (hey a win is a win and a little part of me likes to think it was my dashing good looks and fluttering eyelids that helped get the lower rate). The day was all in all pretty lazy with pub grub late lunch. We gave the 3 or 4 bottles of spirits we had with us a nudge and dined on finger food back in the room for breakfast. A bit of reading, sleeping, walking, hanging out, chatting etc….

The boys!

Most importantly, a council was held today in the hallowed halls of the YHA in which it was sadly decided the fellowship of the boys would split, albeit temporarily, to allow Samwise Gamgee and his companion Alex “Frodo” Varbola to find themselves on a journey to Milford Sound. We would all rendezvous in Queenstown the following day, before they set sail for Te Anau and Milford or “Milf Sound” as I preferred to call it.

Day 5 - Captain Stupid

Jack Daniels Remaining: 690mls

Kilometers Ridden Today: 101km

I had a lot of ideas for the title of today’s entry, because it would be the most successful day of riding for me; 100km’s including the hills in reverse from Franz Josef to Fox on our way to Haast.

Alas, the award for Captain Stupid for this trip went to yours truly. In my haste to depart this morning and get a gap on the boys (as they would inevitably catch me), I made one “small” oversight. About 15kms up the road my phone was beeping and ringing. As it was a local NZ SIM, that only a handful of people had I figured it was important. It was Shawn; “Do you have the van key”. I was quite positive I gave it to Paul, but to be sure, I emptied the contents of my jersey pockets on the side of the road, somewhere between Franz Josef and Fox. No key. Phone rang again. “We found it”. And the moment Shawn asked if I remember where I hung the key it immediately came back to me – the rubber stopper on the tail gate of the van. Shit bloody shit shit I thought – how did I forget that. Probably rightfully so, the boys carried and air of distrust with them for the next few days, double checking who had the key (looking in my direction).

Anyhow, back to the ride. Shawn and Richard passed me not far past Fox Glacier. From there, the Km’s ticked over 40, 50, 60, 70… No van. No Alex. I was growing a bit worried. This was a VERY isolated part of the trip with no phone reception, towns or stops. I pulled up at a turnoff to a café, but was torn. If I went into the café, it was likely the van (and Alex) would pass me and not know it. The problem is, our destination (I thought) was Haast – 140km’s from Franz Josef and a solid 30kms longer than I’d ever really ridden in one stint before. So I was unsure whether to stop and wait or push on. This was coupled also with a repeating voice in my head about whether we had actually agreed to re-group in a tiny village called Mahitahi (midway – which I had already overshot). There had been discussion on this the previous evening.

I decided to push on the Haast. About 100 metres down the road, a Magpie?! Attacked me (I didn’t think there were any in this country!). Persistent little bugger too. He (or she) played let’s piss off Justin for about 300 metres before realising this genuine threat to its chicks was gone (yes I am known to climb up trees and steal magpie chicks; I’m seeking therapy for it, I swear). Ironically, not much later Alex caught me, then then Van. Alex’s slowness was explained by a broken rear spoke (after a Km walk a nice touring couple picked him up and got him to Fox, where he borrowed Paul’s wheel for the rest of the journey). The van caught me at 92kms – and I asked them to hold back so I could do 100kms (I didn’t trust myself doing 140km’s with the van in front of me and no way of communicating with them.

…A mere 1km downs the road, an unscheduled stop. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed something on the side of the road. I turned round and as I suspected, it was a tiny Robin (native one I assume). It didn’t look right and it obviously wasn’t when I lent down and picked it up. It sat quietly on my finger. I suspected it got hit by a car (but showed no signs of injury). I shook my finger and it flew off... but landed in the middle of the road. This isn’t good, I thought. I quickly assessed the situation. I was miles from anyway. I did have the van not far behind me, but I was familiar with Haast – they are lucky to have a pub, let alone a vet of some kind. I admit, I considered “quick end” options for the little fella (no need to elaborate). However, I picked it up once more and gave my finger another shake to encourage it to take off – success. It flew (fairly well it seemed) to a nearby branch. This time out of my reach, but I was content it would be ok. I departed and a little further down the road realised my decision was probably a good one. I was in new Zealand and with ground dwelling predators near non-existent, it would have far longer to recover in NZ than in Australia – the land of snakes, spiders, feral cats, foxes and just about everything else that would choose a helpless winded creature that weighs less than a fart a suitable meal.

Not long after the van caught me (almost exactly at the 100km mark) and the rest of the trip was  spent supporting Alex on his way to Haast.

What better way to finish a ride.. NZ West Coast and a Tui....

Haast was every bit as quiet as I remembered (I don’t think the boys were terribly impressed). We mulled over the idea of pushing on, but decided against as it would mean we would not get to ride up the pass tomorrow, and arrival in Wanaka would have been rather late. It turned out to be one of the better evenings together. We had the motel virtually to ourselves (despite being advised it was “fishing season and expect Haast to be busy”. Two or three of the boys chose to make this their big night and stayed up till 3am – presumably just to given the ample supply of spirits with us a nudge…

The bang bus, waiting patiently outside the motel room while its passengers rested...

Haast, in all its "going off" glory..

Repair works of Alex’s wheel on the motel room floor…. Note the foreman telling Alex what to do (Alex’s patience was tested, but succeeded).

Every trip has a theme song. Ours I think was this little number from Rammstein – Du Hast (for obvious reasons). Take a moment, to get yourself a herbal tea, get on your comfy pillow and listen to its peaceful harmony…

Du Hast!