All posts by bpheasant

around home, bikepacking, bikes, MTB, shoulder

The Christmas Letter 2022

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After all the changes that 2021 brought, this year has very much been about settling into a new life in a very quiet part of the world. But constant that it is in life, there have plenty more changes – just not on the scale of diagnosis of chronic genetic conditions, quitting permanent full-time work, selling house and moving to the bottom of the country.

The start of the year saw me bouncing between spending time with and helping family in both Naseby and Waikouaiti as Adele and James awaited the arrival of their second and our parents prepared their house for sale and a move into Dunedin. There was a bit of biking, hiking and running involved too. Amongst that, weekly blood-lettings stretched out a little but I was pleased than my iron levels were down to normal levels by February (thirteen venesections) and my haemochromatosis was under control enough to lengthen the period between blood bank trips to three-months and allow my blood to be used as donor blood (silver lining).

Shortly before heading to the top of the South Island for the start of a ride, I decided I wanted to be in Naseby for the rest of the year to be closer to Adele, James and my niblings. That meant finding somewhere to live, fortunately I was able to find a suitable long-term rental (as in many holidays spots, most rentals here are short-term holiday ones). With a couple of days up my sleeve before the start of the Sounds2Sounds bikepacking event, I went exploring – and managed to fall down a bank, dislocating my shoulder again. On a remote track, I was very pleased my beacon worked and very relieved and fascinated with an impressive and fun (besides the dislocation agony) helicopter winch retrieval. That and a night in hospital changed the immediate future a fair bit, thankfully I was well looked after by members of the bikepacking community with accommodation and transport home.

With help, I still managed to move and settle into the far-too-cute-for-me cottage. Much smaller than my Napier house, it suits me well and has been useful in confirming that I could live in a lot less space. Stanley arrived a couple of weeks later, it’s been great to be so close to spend much time with Adele, James and their young sons – plenty of nephew amusing, and a few chores too. Through the year I have enjoyed some casual work in new-to-me industries – helping the usually-short staffed local pub when needed and helping a local cycle trail operator driving around beautiful Central Otago (don’t get tired of it) moving bikes, people, bags and vehicles.



After many months of planning and waiting, the build of my first new mountain bike in seven years came together. Autumn conditions were great on the local trails, and with them only being hundreds of metres from home I was out a lot enjoying the new bike and slowly understanding the maze of techy, hand-built trails – often with James’s help. Much fun and great to have them so close. With mountain-biking so close, there was little running this year as I’d far rather be on a bike!

A trip to the lower North Island with Mum and Dad for my uncle’s eightieth was much appreciated for being able to spend time with a lot of family and friends. Parents’ house sold, shortly after it was time for their move into the city – a big week of packing, moving and starting to unpack. They are now settling in well to a far more convenient location in a house they enjoy for its warmth, smaller section, garden and views. I visit sporadically as various things take me to the city; not two hours’ drive away, Mum and Dad also stay regularly at mine – a move to Naseby has certainly been a boon for spending time with family.

As for many places around NZ, winter was a lot wetter than normal this year – plans of exploring the Maniototo gravel roads on crisp, frosty mornings fell by the wayside. Much time snuggled by the fireplace with cups of tea reading instead. A week of Covid-lite (my first cold in three years was far worse a month beforehand, no long-term effects) isolation was surprisingly enjoyable. We had one really good snow fall which was thoroughly enjoyable; the temperatures dropped after the snow fell, turning it into a snow week. For the first time in a few winters, it was consistently cold enough to be able to skate on the pond up at Adele and James’s section – enjoyable relearning that skill.

Now having so much time for myself, I’m bemused that this year I’ve biked the least distance since 2014. But quality over quantity – bike-commuting (3000-5000 km/year that was only tolerable) was traded for far more time having a lot of fun mountain-biking. I also didn’t finish the only two bikepacking events I entered, so there was another couple of thousand kilometres gone. But the bikepacking trips I did take were some of the best I’ve ever been on – probably no coincidence that those were more off-road and mountain-bikey than the bikepacking I was used to in the North Island.

Honourable mentions go to Andy’s Southern Special (a week-long affair of which the highlights were Percy Saddle, taking it easy to and from Mavora Lakes, and the southern end of the Pisa Range; Andy’s video here); also Andy’s Four Peak and Orari Gorge weekend (the new trail bike proving capable on such a bikepacking trip – we didn’t have to carry much), Nina organising a return to Mt White Station (more trail bike fun – no overnight gear carried); low key riding with Eileen and Andy to the Big Finish Line Party in Naseby; and Pete’s stunningly well-timed trip (no real rain!) up the big three West Coast mountain-bike(able) trails over nine days – it was brilliant being able to spend multiple nights on the trails and not be in any rush, a fantastic way to mark my fortieth.

 

Easily the exceptional trip of the year, and one of the best I’ve ever done, was another of Andy’s – four days linking old farm tracks through conservation areas in the Lindis, Hawea, Dunstan and Oteake hills. I’ll just leave this video here – you may get an idea of the silly amount of fun I was having on a slightly unsuitable bike (arguable point, it was the bike I had). I had to replace the now-cracked rear rim after this, and soon replaced the rigid fork with a suspension one.

November driving around the North Island with both bikes in the car was far wetter than expected, somehow I managed to avoid getting very wet at all with still a decent amount of riding. The trip was mostly about taking the time to visit as many friends as I practically could and it was lovely to see so many familiar faces – it’s a long way to Naseby so it was good to make the effort. That trip ran straight into ten days of St John courses over the first three weekends of December (Adele convinced me the local ambulance needs more volunteers – jury is still out as to if I’ll enjoy it or be any good, it’s a steep and interesting learning curve but). I’m very pleased to be home for a while after six weeks away, our Pheasant Christmas is in Naseby with parents and Mum’s siblings from Sydney (first time seeing them in some time).

There’s a few trips around the South Island planned for the rest of the summer and I was planning to go bikepacking abroad mid-2023 – but that’s out the window, as I’ll likely take the opportunity to have surgery on my shoulder again, hopefully that’ll fix it better. The downtime should be used to move my plan to build a small house on Adele & James’s land from concept to something much further on. So next year is already looking unusual – but hopefully good and worthwhile taking that time out. All the best for yours.

around home, bikepacking, bikes, friends, NZ

Big Finish Line Party – Naseby

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With a bit of encouragement, Naseby was chosen over Kurow for the second Big Finish Line Party. For my part in that, I came up with some waypoints that gave plenty of options for a good few days of bikepacking in Central Otago, provided some photos and booked the pub. How much and where I would ride depended mostly on how the weather looked and desire to go some new places.

Andy and Eileen happened to be down south for a mix of work and biking; unfortunately I was doing a bit of Rail Trail work Labour Weekend so missed joining them for the long weekend loop north of Naseby. Nevermind, it was fun to have friends visit Naseby and show them around – even if it was a fairly bleak Labour Day. Plans were hatched for riding throughout the week, Andy to join us when work obligations were done with. Eileen and Andy having driven to Clyde, the plan worked better for me to ride over the following day.

After a lot of time driving and working around the Otago Central Rail Trail the preceding few weeks, I was aware I may find riding the flat, easy trail a little tedious. But overnight snow on the hills giving way to a clear, crisp and still day alleviated those fears. It was a stunning day and I revelled in the hundred kilometre commute to the northern trailhead.

Looking east to the Kakanuis.

Across the Ida Valley to Rough Ridge.

Up the Ida Valley, Hawkduns in the distance.

Bit dryer heading into Poolburn Gorge.

Poolburn Viaduct.

Hawkduns again, further north over the Manuherikia Valley.

Just before the gorge, a small group of e-bikers and I started to overtake each other. With a loaded bike, I was fine with eventually being passed on long gradual climbs – but there was pride at stake at not being able to overtake them downhill into Omakau.

Off Tiger Hill looking over to the Dunstan Range.

I only began to warm up mid-afternoon dropping into Alexandra, where it was time for a long-overdue catch-up with Ruth and Jonny. A cuppa and chat turned into dinner and a lovely evening; eventually heading for Mark and Paula’s hospitality and more chat near Clyde.

Still a bit of snow around the next morning, the sun was fleeting.

Eileen and I headed out to ride the Lake Dunstan Trail, first time for her, third for me. After a bit of creak-chasing in Mark’s impressive bike workshop we headed out. Despite the overcast day muting the normally brilliant colour of the lake, it was a far better experience with much less traffic both on the trail and across the gorge on the highway.

At this time of the day, the coffee and burger boats were open. As if we needed another reason for our leisurely pace; tasty burgers.

The trail engineering still impresses.

At Cornish Point, it didn’t take long to prevent each other talking ourselves into riding further to get another BFLP checkpoint. So turn we did to find by mid-afternoon the trail is all but deserted; there’s a lot to be said to be waiting until all the riders hiring bikes from and being shuttled by local companies have had their outing for the day… Our ride finished just in time, sneaking in for gelato just before the shop shut.

As much as I was keen to head up to Poolburn Reservoir and camp at Serpentine Diggings the following day, the forecast suggested it would be a really bad idea up at that elevation. Pity, another time; getting a lift back in a work van I headed home to await Eileen & Andy arriving and further scheming for the two days we had left to get to the BFLP.

The forecast looked good enough that we would get to climb the Rock & Pillar Range and stay in Big Hut – a hut I’d wanted to stay in for a long time. With only a half-day of riding involved and rain due early in the day, it was a leisurely departure hour. Even then, we were stopped at a bakery in about half an hour and topping-up supplies at the last resupply for the route. Managing to sneak in a couple of flat, straight gravel roads new to me was a bonus – even if they did seem to stretch inordinately. Not really having planned this section, we were fortunate that a Bailey bridge across the Taieri had only that week been opened on a minor road – the original bridge having been washed away in floods two Christmases ago. Ignorance is indeed sometimes bliss.

Much too early for the pub to be open, this building next door always catches my eye.

After fifty kilometres of gentle valley floor riding, we finally began to climb joining the Old Dunstan Trail at Styx/Paerau. From a distance, it’s an imposing climb and I’ve had three memorable rides up it. This one would also be so; thankfully it wasn’t baking hot. However, Andy wasn’t feeling great and trooper that he is, struggled through one of his hardest day’s riding (as I’d later learn) with no fuss. The wet gravel sure was slow and energy sucking though.

Upper Taieri windings.

Back over the Maniototo to the Hawkdun and Ida Ranges. Naseby Forest visible back right of valley.

We easily found the turning off the gravel Old Dunstan Trail onto the 4WD track up to and along the Rock & Pillars.

Down to Loganburn Reservoir.

Following old fence lines (signs of farming on ranges around here still bewilder me somewhat) along the ridge; steeper than it looks, some pushing involved.

Just the odd patch of snow stubbornly remaining.

East to the Pacific. Fun spotting those two bumps of hills right of centre – riding between them was part of my standard twenty kilometre loop from parents’ Waikouaiti home.

Plenty of schist fenceposts remain, even if the fences are no use now.

Cutting across to Big Hut.

Avoiding a surprisingly swampy section just above the hut.

Made it, seven hours and not quite eighty kilometres.

Can confirm, it is a big hut.

With plenty of daylight left, we settled into the hut as the wind built. Built in the late ’40s for skiers, reading the exhaustive history boards was both interesting and entertaining. Originally it held seventy intrepid skiers who would mostly travel from Dunedin to Middlemarch and then hike the two or so hours up the range on a Friday night for a weekend of skiing. With no tows or chairlifts, learning to ski up here sounded mostly like falling down the hill for a bit before the exhausting hike back to the top through the snow to try it all again.

Nowadays there are a more modest number of bunks in two rooms, a kitchen, an enormous common room (table tennis anyone?) and a large drying and ski (bike) storage room. The oil burner has long been removed and there is no heating, so I imagine winter trips never manage to warm such a large space – it was cool enough up there late-October. That the hut and outbuildings all have wire guys attached to big metal stakes gives an indication of just how windy it gets up there.

Ropes to the toilets, lest someone get blown away.

Trying to catch the last of the light, but the wind was well up and I soon retreated.

Remains of Top Hut, the original accommodation – somehow thirty people slept in this space.

It blew all night, thankfully Andy was feeling no worse the next morning – possibly even a bit better. We set off towards the summit, half an hour of ridge riding before the exhilarating drop of eleven hundred metres on rugged 4WD track to the rail trail.

I took a brief tour to jog to the actual summit, can’t not when it’s right there. Looking south east to the Pacific. Trig didn’t stand a chance up here.

North west to the Dunstan Range.

Not far down, I took another little detour to check out the recently refurbished and more recently condemned Leaning Lodge – doesn’t meet building code or some such bureaucratic nonsense.

I had a bit of snow to skirt as I approached the hut.

Nice spot.

Looked perfectly fine to me; I didn’t linger, returning to the main track to catch up to Andy and Eileen. Much fun, as dropping off these Central Otago ranges on rough tracks always is – I did miss the company to share the descent with, but that was my doing! Catching up to find Eileen and Andy waiting under a large shelter belt, we were soon out of the farm and on the Rail Trail again. With Andy sensibly opting to head for nearby Middlemarch and a shuttle back to Naseby, there was a chance to further hunt down the creak plaguing Eileen by swapping rear wheels. In doing so, success – it was pinpointed as coming from the rear axle.

That sure is a fun descent!

While bikes were in pieces, along came another bikepacker! I was very pleased to meet Paul and find that he’d had a great week collecting all five waypoints and rode the route – the only rider to do so. Saying bye to Andy, Paul joined us for a couple of hours of pleasant rail trail riding and much chat all the way to a big Waipiata pub lunch.

Thankfully magpies didn’t add me to the tally on this trip. The ones I encountered didn’t seem to make contact when swooping – most odd, but definitely preferable.

Stuffed full of the renowned pies and large fries, lunch legs somehow carried us up the hour-long, gradual two hundred metres climb to Naseby on quiet gravel roads (admittedly most of the gravel roads around here are quiet). The heavy shower that passed by while we lunched didn’t repeat until just as we got in to town – so another trip not requiring a raincoat, bonus. Andy had beaten us home, and we had plenty of time to rest and clean up before wandering down to the Royal for the Big Finish Line Party.

A bit down on numbers from the inaugural event, nonetheless it was a very enjoyable evening hearing people’s stories of their routes to Naseby and catching up with bikepacking friends old and new. Organiser extraordinaire Andy made the drive all the way down from Christchurch to hear what we’d been up to, and take the minutes. A most enjoyable week tootling around Central Otago on bikes, avoiding the worst of the weather, admiring the scenery and spending time with good mates – can’t ask for too much more.

bikes, friends, NZ

Mt White Station

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Postponed five weeks after a lot of rain put paid to the original date, a few days out the forecast wasn’t looking much better this time around. Thankfully it improved enough that we shouldn’t get too wet – from the sky, at least – for our weekend at Mt White Station in the Canterbury high country. Heavy snow as we drove along the Arthurs Pass highway was less encouraging, but as we approached the turnoff the cloud lifted a little. Ten of the original twelve met at the homestead before noon. All our luggage was loaded into a Landcruiser to be delivered to the hut, and our bikes were loaded only for day-rides – luxury, and the not the end of it. I’d even brought my trail bike, willing to trade a faster bike for a much more fun one.

Driving in, and the whole weekend, brought back many happy Tour Te Waipounamu memories – it was even better to be reminiscing with Andy, as we had a very enjoyable ride through the station that day early last year. On that day, we noticed that a lot of money was being spent on the farm – many new buildings being constructed. That has continued with two new huts being built further up the Esk Valley (one of which we would stay in for the weekend), significant roading and fence work was also apparent.

We pottered to the hut, seventeen kilometres and a modest amount of climbing, on the main road over a couple of hours high above the Esk River – of which we caught occasional glimpses. The rain stayed away, the snow was disturbingly low and it was cold. The road rode well; that is, until we got beyond the big, shiny, new bulldozer and the surface was mud of the tacky variety – drivetrains didn’t sound so good after those few kilometres.

Up on the terraces above the river; as for TTW, a lot of riding would be on these, with frequent drops to streams, rivers and then grovels back up.

Up the Esk Valley.

Back down the valley.

Sticky.

Home for the weekend.

Twelve bunks, insulated, fireplace, hot water, showers, well-equipped kitchen, a fridge-freezer – couldn’t ask for much more in the middle of nowhere! Soon the kettle was boiling; I couldn’t leave my tea to join the rush to go further up a side valley straightaway. Instead enjoying the cuppa, some quieter moments and then a shorter ride up Camp Stream and down Baldy Stream with Nina and Bryan.

Up the Pukio valley, we’d shortly head off left, in front of the nearest patch of bush. Unsure what pearls Bryan is expounding here.

There was a dozer track adjacent to the creek, so it was easy going. We spent sometime exploring for the best route to the saddle at the head of the valley. I think we just wanted to mosey around a bit before accepting our fate and pushing up the steep and obvious dozer track to a small lake.

Back at the hut before the others, there was more tea and we began trying to make our way through the excessive amount of food that had been driven. Between courses, Bryan, Nina and I went for a stroll down from the hut to see if we could get closer to the waterfall flowing into the Pukio just above where it joins the Esk. We didn’t make it, but did manage to get halfway down to the river and generally amble around in the cool of the evening. It helped to make room for the huge and tasty curry that Andy had made.

The plan for Saturday (cold, no wind, low cloud, but not rain) was to head further up the main valley, cross the Esk then head up Grant Creek and climb to the historic Cattle Creek Hut. Plenty more TTW memories, it was nice to have a bit more time to appreciate the area – even if the weather wasn’t nearly as pleasant.

Down to cross the Pukio.

Before climbing back to another terrace.

Now time to get across Ant Stream.

More terraces; but this time we stayed low, crossed the Esk, followed it up a bit before turning up the Grant valley just to the right of centre-shot.

Rob and Andy rescued a ewe from down a bank. The almost-completed Terrace Hut in background (turn-off before drop to Ant Stream).

Up the Grant Valley.

Before long, we left the stream and pointed up for a two-hundred metre climb. Steep and with no gravel surface, just more mud, we were all walking up there.

Twas a decent push.

Could be the intriguingly-named The Candlesticks range in the background.

I reached the hut right on noon and had a bit of time to poke around in solitude. Quaint hut and still well used by mustering gangs, but my word it was cold. Set back in the beech forest, it wasn’t getting much light and the wind was blowing straight in. Lunch inside

The skeleton of the hut hadn’t travelled far.

Others came and went, but I was trying to appreciate the time there and was in no rush – waiting to eat some more with Bryan and Nina. Andy had mentioned going back to Anderson Hut (further up the Esk, and where we’d had a freezing night on TTW), but I had no desire to go back in the cold and see it again.

Nina’s photo.

Forty-five minutes was enough in the ice box, I bid Nina and Bryan farewell and turned to see if I could catch the others. Turned out, I could – even with a big head start, some return on pedalling a bigger-bike-than-necessary around all weekend. Catching Andy, as so often, stopped shooting video it was much warmer down at 800 m; suddenly I was keen not to return straight to Esk Hut but instead make the most of exploring this vast place a fraction more. We could cut from the Grant-Esk confluence to further up the Esk on a recent track and miss out a fair bit of backtracking and then climbing to the main road.

Off the two of us went, it only took twenty minutes to join the road for the last three kilometres to Anderson Hut.

Anderson Hut just beyond the upper Esk. The spur we rode off the Dampier Range on TTW just behind it.

The door closes now! Not that it mattered to me; only room for two in the hut, most of us slept out that freezing night.

Andy, for some reason, was not keen to push our bikes back up the Dampier for the fun downhill. I escaped Anderson Hut this time with neither of my socks being stolen, we turned for twenty kilometres down the valley to Esk Hut. Of all places to find a fiver lying on the trail, the back of Mt White Station would be one I’d least expect!

This tree held my attention for quite sometime, most of its roots seemingly doing a poor job of being in the ground.

Another Esk crossing; Andy having no memory of the steep little climbs between the terraces. I remembered them all too well.

Fun riding down this valley with Andy again, which gratifyingly again came with frequent requests to pause and then ride for the camera. I took a short detour up the Ant Valley to check out Anna Hut (unsure why it’s not beside Anna Stream) before returning to the main road and finding Andy setting up another shot.

A short stroll up Surveyors Knob to get a different perspective. Esk Hut is on the end of the terrace extending from below the bush at right of shot.

Fifty kilometres and seven hours on mixed surfaces, I was starting to tire – the price for the fun bike. The last climb really was a grovel; I walked a lot of what I’d normally ride. Sign of a good day exploring? I think so. We got back to find most everyone had been back at the hut for hours – they missed out. But they did a grand job of keeping the food appearing – I was delighted to find out Yorkshire Tea loaf is a thing (how I didn’t know before, I can only marvel), and it’s delicious and commonly served with cheese (just gets better); I may have finished it, yum!

Definitely not a eat-what-you-carry bikepacking trip.

Another pre-dinner walk was in order to break up all the eating. This time, an easier, more direct way down to view the falls near the hut.

The closeness of such hairpin turns in the river caught my eye.

This stream rises near Surveyors Knob, and from such flat surroundings I was surprised by how much water was cascading.

After another large dinner, we were treated to Nina’s slideshow of her experiences dogsledding, attending a fat(-bike) training camp and then returning the following year to ride in, and complete, the 350 mile Iditarod Trail Invitational in the Alaskan winter. Biking in, or just trying to survive, temperatures down to -50 degrees Celsius was adventure far beyond what most of us could comprehend. Absolutely fascinating, and humbled our own efforts and hardships overcome.

Sunday morning and there was still ridiculous amounts of food left and, considering it was only seventeen kilometres out, we made a good effort at not taking much home. Seventeen kilometres for those keen to ride straight out, that is. I was not – there was still more exploring to be done and who knows if I ever might get the opportunity to return? Nina was keen, and Andy may have been as well – but as I had the car key, he may have felt he had little choice! Up the Pukio we went for ninety minutes, past the part of the valley where a family long ago lived for thirty years with a dairy herd – carting their cheese over the Dampier Range to market (it was bad enough with a bike). Perhaps they named the Mounds of Misery. (I’ve since heard how difficult farming Mt White is – stories not-uncommon winters where all stock are lost.) We dropped to get a view of Lake Grace, the Cox River and McArthur Gorge (where the river, for seemingly no reason, changes name to Poulter East Branch).

Up through the old dairy farm area.

From the top of the Mounds, looking up the Cox valley.

Over to Brown Hill, on the other side of the Poulter.

Lake Grace.

Cox River.

We turned and headed to Camp Stream, making faster time – the downhill overcoming the breeze in our faces, just; but not fast enough to catch Nina, who’d turned around thirty minutes before us. Plenty of undulations on the main road back, I may have been a bit tired – but we were zooming down to the remaining vehicles before noon.

Back to the homestead.

So that was an excellent weekend exploring some of the interesting and staggeringly vast Mt White Station – very much recommended. Cold, but not windy and I never had to put my raincoat on. Thanks to all the group for making it the weekend it was, especially all that food! Extra thanks to Nina for organising and sharing her snow and ice biking stories with us.

The usual bonus from riding with Andy, and for making it through such a long post – a different take on the same trip that takes far less time than reading this far (the second half of which just seems mostly to be of me having fun on a bike, oops).

bikepacking, bikes, GPS, national park, NZ

A40BPT8 – Perry Saddle to Rameka

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Our hut-buddy kept Perry Saddle hut insanely warm all night, nice to get up to a not-freezing hut on a grey morning. It looked I might have to don my raincoat for the second day of the trip – but the rain abated just enough to start climbing to the high point of the track without it.

Easy climbing for twenty-five minutes.

Time to give the bikes another rest at the summit; usually worth a wander to the lookout.

South over the Flanagan Creek valley.

East to our first sighting of the Aorere River, which we’d follow all the way to Golden Bay.

There began our ninety minutes and eight hundred metres of descent to the end of the trail. Much fun with occasional stops to look through any break in the bush, chat to the only other trail user we saw (a trail runner out for the day) and clear the odd bit of tree fall.

A fleeting friendship at Aorere Shelter.

Two hours in and we were marking the end of an excellent, slow trip through the Heaphy with it mostly to ourselves – another memorable ride through, certainly is a special trail and place. Bit of a shock seeing even a little bit of traffic again as we rolled the thirty-five kilometres to Collingwood.

Brief stop at the Bainham Store, one day I’ll visit when it is open and poke around all the curious things on display inside.

They seemed to have a complete set.

Our charmed run with the weather continued as the rain threatened but stayed very much in the hills, as we went back to Rockville.

A big, delicious lunch was savoured at The Courthouse Cafe in Collingwood before we set off for Takaka, which was only half as far as I thought – score! Even better, the norwester was at our back the whole way.

A warm afternoon, well – warm enough for ice cream. We pottered a bit getting a derailleur hanger straightened and working out where to stay that night – we still had a day and a half to complete the last hundred kilometres to Nelson and Pete’s flight home. Jonathan came through for us and we could stay in a hut halfway up the last climb of note of the trip. Time to stock up for another night in the bush; I was most thankful for this as the late-afternoon rush in Takaka was a bit overwhelming and I just wanted to escape again.

I may have got a bit carried away buying non-freeze-dried ingredients to cook dinner. Somehow everything was squeezed in or strapped on, off we went.

With overloaded bikes, and half a dozen eggs, we opted for the easier and smooth gravel road climb over the singletrack. As it was, it was steep enough! We were pleased to see slips from recent heavy rain had been cleared, as I was happy to clear the climb.

Made it!

How good is this?!

I particularly enjoyed all the native birdsong, especially a raucous kea, that goes with all the hard work in planting the hillsides in natives. Cooking far too much carbonara in a large pot on a small stove by torchlight was also fun – plenty left for breakfast and lunch the following day.

The following day, the last of our excellent tour, is without photos as my phone further made its case for replacement. But it was fairly uneventful – I loved the Rameka climb again (we walked and chatted a lot, occasionally I tested myself on some of the technical parts, there was one slip which required a bit of carrying), Canaan Downs is very pleasant, the top half of the huge descent off Takaka Hill (sealed highway) was exhilarating, by the bottom half I was bored and disengaged! From there, I just told myself it was an eighty kilometre commute to Nelson and didn’t expect any more. Unexpectedly, I did get the second-best pie of the trip in Motueka – so that was a high point.

Andrew met us on the outskirts and guided us back to his, ending our ten-day Hokitika to Nelson tour of some of the best multi-day trails to be ridden in NZ. What a trip, so fortunate with the weather enabling Plan A to be realised, and being able to take our time through spectacular country wth few others around. Only some minor mechanicals (mostly flat tyres) slowed us, but not enough to disrupt plans. Thanks Pete for the idea, planning and invite – another trip to remember. Also thanks to Rachel, Nina, Jonathan, Andrew and Diana for the accommodation, food and mechanical support.