A surprisingly good sleep later (maybe there was some value in dragging my tent around) and I was ready to set off and see how far I might get that overcast day. Things were nowhere near as grim as the previous evening. A little downstream of our campsite, we very briefly went over some of last year’s route on the Melina Ridge track’s exit to the highway and where we camped on the other side of the river.
Following the Lindis down for a bit.
Wasn’t hard to spot our climb to the top of Little Breast Hill, some nine hundred metres above us.
The valley narrowed and we had a cool little section through a wee gorge. We had to cross the river a number of times. The first looked simple enough, but in a sign of tiredness and a heavy bike I somehow promptly fell in the river halfway across. Pity Andy was watching. Although it was only half-seven, it was warm enough that the only real issue with this was that I had somewhat soggy potato chups for the rest of day – ick. I walked a few more crossings than I ordinarily would after that.
Through the gorge, contemplating that track and its gradient. Andy’s pic.
As we left the valley bottom, we took a chance to fill water bottles at the last creek marked on the map – it would be a long time until we found water again. Trying to eat as much as I could stomach, I steeled myself for the climb ahead – informed it only really looked steep for the middle third. As that approached, having already been walking since the turn upwards, the desire and energy was gone. After some deliberation, I was so close to turning and dropping down through the station (we were now on private land – thanks station owners for access, and Andy for organising, to make this route possible, although I might not have said so at the time!) and heading for my car.
While I was paused contemplating bailing on Andy and the route, we heard the faint sounds of approaching engines. Two ATVs came down the hill towards us, the occupants returning from a few days camping and hunting at the back of the station. They were pleasantly chatty (I was not, but Andy’s the guy who works in communications – so I left it to the professional) and as they departed, they left me with the encouragement to get up to the private hut a couple of hundred metres climb on for a cuppa. That seemed reasonable enough.
The gradient kicked a bit, but it wasn’t as nasty as Dromedary Hill and the surface was far better for pushing. The hut gained, I was feeling ok enough to push on.
Lush spot for a hut! Very tidy it was too.
All the cloud wasn’t great for the views, but there was still plenty to be staggered by – and the temperature topped out at warm, not hot.
May have even managed to get on the bike for that zig. Andy’s pic.
The trail turned off just below the summit, but damned if I wasn’t going to walk up another twenty metres to get to the top after having spent two and a half hours climbing the rest of the hill. I’m surprised to find now that the climb averaged over fifteen percent, about the same as Dromedary – somehow it was easier, perhaps due to the better surface, lower temperature, lack of really steep bits… Pleasingly, there were no two-step, bike push-ups needed.
A twenty minute break at the top was worth it for the rest and complete panorama – more fun picking out various ranges and other features.
North up the Timaru River valley.
West showing a fair bit of lumpy ridge riding to join the Te Araroa trail as it heads to Breast Hill.
More pushing beyond the locked deer gate – thankfully I’d picked up the key afternoon before.
Despite being on the ridge, the hills didn’t seem to be getting any less.
Shortly before the climb up to Breast Hill summit; thankfully we turned south onto the Grandview Ridge track. Hawea and the edge of its lake on right; over to Wanaka, its lake and surrounding mountains.
It turned out to be thirty-five kilometres of far more pushing and climbing than one would imagine considering we had a thousand metres to drop down to be close to the Lindis again! Still, we had plenty of daylight and food – even managed to find some water when we stopped for lunch and more rest. The fun of piecing together the views and features continued; we certainly had plenty of time to soak it in.
Looking from the north along the top end of the Grandview Ridge track – we were heading that way.
Lake Hawea a much darker blue than I’m used to seeing.
Oh, there’s the track from Hawea up to Grandview Mountain; which curiously is lower than the part of the ridge track done. Memories of more pushing helping some train for a long ago Godzone.
Back along the ridge and Lake Hawea. Making some progress now, still very undulating – to put it mildly.
East over tomorrow’s terrain, and the Chain Hills, Dunstan Pass, beginnings of Dunstan Range, St Bathans Range and right at the back – Mt Ida, which I can see from just outside my house where I sit typing away here. Fascinating.
Getting used to the gradients and feeling reasonable – not brimming with energy, but much better than previous night – we then saw Bluenose. From a distance it looked brutal. But gradients are weird, often it’s not as bad as it seems from afar. This was.
Trying to get some speed up to hit that zag to the left. Andy’s pic.
I got to the first corner and then was pushing – suddenly as steep as last night.
Then the surface deteriorated to the toughest all trip. Oh.
Probably a more accurate depiction of the twenty-plus percent. Andy’s pic.
Mercifully, it was only a short section (twenty minutes, give or take some rests) and completely doable. I’d like to say it was all downhill from there, but it certainly wasn’t! But only (!) twelve more kilometres until the last downhill to the flatlands. As we descended the rocky track turned to long grass, just for a change.
Up the Clutha to Wanaka.
Down the Clutha to Lake Dunstan; Dunstan foothills on left, Pisa foothills on right.
Over to more of the Pisas, this time next week…
Nearing seven o’clock we were off the hills. What a route! Hard, but manageable work. While the views were lessened, I was glad it wasn’t overly sunny and hot. We set off east on backroads for a relatively flat twenty kilometres for Cluden Creek and a small stash of food I’d dropped off the previous day. Water was scarce across here, except at the farmhouse we stopped at – we found most of the water going onto the garden and lawn! We gratefully filled bottles from the sprinklers. Dinner done, we were very pleased with over three thousand metres of climbing (much of it pushing, if we’re frank) over sixty-five kilometres in the hills; especially backing up after the evening before. Strangely it started to drizzle just as I got in my tent – maybe it really was worth lugging all that way. Phew, I’m getting tired just thinking about that day.
Addendum: Andy’s video of the whole trip. Some reminds me of all the tough pushing, and other bits of the views and fun riding.
The valley floor riding was pleasant enough. Looking back east to the Wether Range.
Entering our first conservation area of the trip. Only five kilometres to Dromedary Hill summit.
Soon looking back on the valley we’d just left.
Gaining the ridge, looking north to the Ahuriri valley and the rounded Ohau Peak.
Thankfully we weren’t dropping to then climb those tracks.
Time to start heading up the ridge towards Dromedary summit. Andy’s pic.
A bit of ridge riding. Andy’s pic.
Still going, for now. Andy’s pic.
That must be back towards Omarama, didn’t realise at the time. Was probably too busy expiring.
There it is on the right. The run down the ridge looks fun, and that’s without seeing the 500+ metre drop off the back.
But first, a little drop and more steepness up those switchbacks.
Getting closer, Mt Melina back left. Also, Melina Ridge track far left, which we’d climbed last year (easier than this one!) and planned for the next morning.
After four hours of heat, a mere sixteen kilometres and 1300 metres of climbing I was left staring at the last big climb – up Pavilion Peak. It looked nasty. Andy’s pic.
A fair reflection of how I was feeling about then; don’t think I’ve ever looked or felt so grim while out bikepacking! Andy’s pic.
Ah, it wasn’t going to be all downhill to get down.
Starting the descent, not at all upset at not going up there that night. Bit more concerned with how awful I was feeling however, bumping downhill not quite as much fun as it usually is.
Still looking over to Pavilion; we’d come down those switchbacks and turned left. Andy’s pic.
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.
Off Tiger Hill looking over to the Dunstan Range.
Still a bit of snow around the next morning, the sun was fleeting.
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.
Much too early for the pub to be open, this building next door always catches my eye.
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.
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.
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.
I had a bit of snow to skirt as I approached the hut.
Nice spot.
That sure is a fun descent!
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.