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.
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.
A fleeting friendship at Aorere Shelter.
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.
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.
Made it!
How good is this?!
Down to Heaphy mouth.
The trig on top has certainly seen some weather.
Over to the Tubman Range; Heaphy River down in between somewhere.
Can’t stay staring around at the summit all morning, time to head down. Lush.
Back into the forest for a short while as we climbed towards Tasman district.
A small drop, with some trail clearing, took us to these flats beside the Saxon River.
Out into the Gouland Downs section; pleased the rain has stopped, always feels a bit exposed out here.
Here’s another Big River.
Down off one side of the trail…
The caves certainly were not hard to find.
And none too wet, we could walk underneath the trail with dry feet soon popping out on the other side to clamber back up.
Beginning to see how the forest got its moniker.
Follow the water and they’re even easier to find.
Leaving the Downs, another brief spell of jacket wearing.
I had good fun clearing as much as possible as the trail got rockier and more difficult to negotiate.
The briefest of appearances for the afternoon.
Heading for Kohaihai – can see the bluff in the distance.
A short diversion to the lookout – north along the beaches which we’d ride beside for the next two hours.
Back along Scotts Beach to Kohaihai Bluff.
Still a few bridges across the bigger creeks pouring straight out of the hills into the sea.
Nikaus! Tall ones at that.
A clear section of trail – much of it was littered with big nikau fronds, other tree fall and wash from big, stormy tides.
What a day, what a place! Again, with the bridge out, we were the only ones going through and pretty much had it to ourselves.
We did find a few small slips along the coast which required a bit of bike-carrying and -wrestling to clear – nothing too serious.
Lunch views. Tough day at the office.
More green beauty.
Bridge has definitely gone.
Over the Lewis to the missing hut (such a shame, it was a classic and actually had character – unlike the big new huts on the track) and the strange new shelter perched higher.
Where has Pete gone?
Oh, there he is.
Am I grinning far too much in this situation due to the absurdity of this self-inflicted episode, or due to it being far easier than the 
Through; yes there’s a track either side of – and under – that.
Through the slip.