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Aus, family, roadtrip, travel

Kimberley by campervan

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Somewhere along the way I said I’d drive Mum on a campervan trip across the NW of Australia. Suddenly it was thirty-odd degrees hotter than is normal at home this time of year and we were checking out Broome – an interesting little town with a history of pearl harvesting by many ethnicities and being bombed in the Second World War; now its biggest asset seems to be a busy fly-in, fly-out airport for WA’s mining industry.

We had some time before picking up the van, so wandered in the heat.

Plenty of the old corrugated buildings survive.

One of the many boab trees (related to the African baobab) we’d see on the trip.

Originally a telegraph station when the subsea cables were the quickest form of comms with the outside world – Timor is really close.

A few of the scores of crabs that were fascinating to watch.
Parking the camper (a very similar van to the ambulances I’m used to driving, just a fair bit longer) first-up in a crowded Cable Beach carpark conquered, we were on time for the camel ride that Mum wanted to do. No racing, all rather sedate – a pleasant hour not having to walk in the heat. Unsure what the camel thought, but I expect it’s better acclimatised than southern New Zealanders.

First night and campground successfully negotiated, the first of many interesting rocks on the trip were visited – with some fun scrambling too.

Finally hitting the highway, it was a few hours north to Derby – even hotter, most notable to me for having up to thirteen metre tides.

Tidal plain, would have liked to see the sea rapidly advance across it.

One of the wider-trunked boabs we saw.

Apparently the largest cattle trough in the world, guess there’s got to be one. From the days of driving stock ultra long distances without trucks.
Continuing east, there were a few small towns every so often (hundred-odd kilometres apart) – maybe because it was a Sunday, but they were grim. Service stations so barricaded I didn’t think they were open, usually they were – just as well.
I much preferred the next campground, Mimbi, to the overly large and full ones on the coast – no power, remote and quiet.

Not at all packed in like sardines.

Also, there were rocks and hills to explore.

Triodia grass – annoyingly pointy.
We’d slowed our journey east a bit so as to catch a tour through the Mimbi Caves, led by the local people. It was wonderfully low-key and gave plenty of opportunity to hang at the back of the large group to try and get some peace to gaze at the intriguing formations.

More rocks – walking to the caves.

Back at the campground, there was enough time to go for a more challenging scramble through the triodia and up the rocks to see what sunset would serve up.

Slightly different rocks. And redder rocks.

Token van photo as Mum was off looking for giant ant hills.
We were really hoping to see the bizarre rock formations of the Bungle Bungles (large, striped beehive shapes), but found at the campground that the permit for this season’s 4WD tours still hadn’t been granted – and we certainly couldn’t take the van on fifty kilometres of rough 4WD track. Disappointing – but the campground, with buffet barbecue, was excellent; I also enjoyed a couple of evening walks lit by the full moon.

Slight detour out to Wyndham and another huge tidal plain.

Boab trees and road trains – pleased to get a photo, while stopped, of some of the constant driving-sights.

I think this was the only Big Thing we saw on the trip, which seems an unusually low tally for an Australian road trip.

But the boabs were far more impressive than Big Things. This one at the campground, carbon dated to about 2000 years old, is apparently still young!
Mirima National Park, small and right on the edge of Kununurra, was billed as a mini-Bungle Bungles – so we had to have a look. Plenty more fascinating rocks, but I’m not sure that billing is at all accurate. Good fun on short walks all the same.

Mum was keen to see some unique local zebra rocks – so we visited a local stoneworker. More cool rocks! Plus some impressively heavy workshop equipment for drilling and cutting all sorts of rock.

Not seeing the Bungle Bungles was playing on my mind, especially with a better than even chance we wouldn’t be back to see them another time. While I’d have much preferred to be able to walk around and inspect them, we were fortunate that there were two seats left on a scenic flight the following day. Apologies for the slightly foggy photos through a small plane window – they’ll have to do their own talking though.

I’m still a bit surprised by just how much vegetation, and how green it was, that we saw on the whole trip – dry season it may have been, but I guess it was close to the start.

We certainly saw plenty during our ten days in WA; onto Northern Territory, all new to me.

bikepacking, bikes, friends, NZ, roadtrip, running, travel

Migration south for summer

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Car loaded with the rest of my possessions that weren’t on a truck somewhere , I had a vague plan of seeing plenty of friends and family on the way south over a few weeks – with hopefully some time outdoors. Apart from that, I just had to make sure I was in Otago for an early family Christmas; not missing too many weekly venesections would be good too.

Mostly successful, I had an enjoyable couple of weeks catching up with many, seeing new places and some memorable meals – even if the weather didn’t always play nice. Patches of sun were few and far between in Wellington, but it was still easy enough to walk around exploring the city when I couldn’t summon the energy to get out riding or running.

Riding around the bays east of the city was a pleasant, if blowy, afternoon.

Some inadvertent hike-a-bike to get here.

Evening run up Mt Vic.

Actually got warm on this big walk – but perhaps because I was dressed for the previous weather, which I don’t have photos of.

I did get a cracking day for a delayed sailing across Cook Strait, and then had a lovely quiet drive down to Hokitika – where I caught up with the rain, three fairly solid days of it. But there was still plenty of biking, walking and jogging in the bush to be done. Only having ridden the West Coast Wilderness Trail way back in 2016 on Tour Aotearoa, and getting thoroughly soaked – I had been hoping to see it on a drier day. Alas, that will have to wait for another time – water being our constant companion for a fun afternoon ride on part of the trail.

Some shelter for a late lunch.

The following day proved even wetter, but out in the rain for a Mahinapua jog proved quite pleasant.

Sunday we managed a couple of hours walking through dense, lush and unsurprisingly green bush before the heavens broke for the last ten minutes or so. Weekend over and the weather did improve – I was pleased to be able to wait it out, as I was able on last year’s West Coast trip. Unusually windy, I was told, it was mercifully dry as we got up on the tops of the Kelly Range.

Towards Otira.

Plenty of Mt Cook lilies out.

Yup, blowing a gale up here.

Down the Taramakau valley to the Tasman.

I enjoyed getting up a bit higher and gaining more of an idea of the lay of some of the land.

Conveniently skipping the first afternoon and the big hike-a-bike section of Nina’s Tour Te Waipounamu training ride, I joined at Blackball for a cruisy and pleasant overnighter. It only rained for the first couple of hours, which was far better than expected on the wet drive north.

Some deserted forestry roads gave few views, save this one.

A strange collection of long-abandoned short lengths of wood.

Across Lake Brunner from Moana – tasty late-lunch stop.

The afternoon’s gravel riding, particularly around Bell Hill, was excellent – as was the easy ride down the valley to lovely Nelson Creek.

With route options aplenty but no firm decisions, I may have (foolishly?) mentioned I like a bit of creek riding – as per Waiuta-Big River. Access through a farm arranged, with handy pointers, we were off for Napoleon Hill.

Through the farm, heading for the beech forest.

A four-wheel drive track provided a suitable, but surmountable, challenge on loaded bikes before it plateaued across the top with plenty of big puddles – thankfully firm bases.

The descent to Nobles Creek got a lot chunkier, I had much fun bouncing down it.

Before long the track was the creek bed and it was excellent – the highlight of the trip for me. I was pleased that it was basically all rideable (the odd dab as rocks proved adept at enforcing sudden changes of direction) and, despite riding down a creek for kilometres, my feet stayed relatively dry until its volume had swollen somewhat when it joined the next creek.

The first of three tunnels – thankfully there was a bypass.

This one far more conducive to riding through.

Finding our way out through more farmland, we were soon whizzing down to the Grey Valley again before lunch in Ikamatua and the last section of seal south towards Blackball. Looking across the valley we could spot the hill we’d just climbed – the bicorne shape obvious. At Atarau we turned north and climbed to Anderson’s Flat – where, after another lovely section through native forest, we were pleased to see Nina’s truck where she’d left it. Much fun on that wee overnighter and it was interesting to take the longer route back to drive through some of the area we’d just ridden and see it from a different perspective.

Thursday and my time on the Coast drew to an end with one last run around the Kaniere Water Race (fascinating following it through the bush) and a tasty Hokitika Sandwich – reputation deserved. With little (/no) tourist traffic around, I’d decided it was a good time to drive down the coast (also first visit since that wet section on TA16) and stay a couple of nights near Wanaka – more people to visit and biking to be done.

I had a few stops on the way down to go for short walks, well worth breaking the drive up.

In Hawea in good time that evening, I was promptly lent a bike and was out exploring some rather hidden, and more technical than I’m currently used to, trails. Over-preparing perhaps for Friday at the relatively new MTB park at Glendhu.

Climbing to the high point over an hour, I enjoyed passing and staying ahead of e-bikes – but was beginning to wonder if the entry fee was worth it for what is still a developing trail network. Admittedly, the views alone were almost worth it.

No sooner had I pointed my bike downhill, I found fast, flowy trails – so, much, fun! I particularly enjoyed one with a few more natural, rock features. After a couple of hours, I headed down to the base for lunch and a nap on a shaded beanbag as the day warmed and the wind increased. Recharged a little, I was able to get back up the hill for more fun. Excellent – can’t wait to get back there with some riding buddies.

Having timed the Glendhu riding well, Saturday was fairly bleak – perfect for many more catch-ups and excessive amounts of food. In the end, it was only two weeks of much visiting and fun outside before I made it down to family. Great to make it and see them after six months filled with all sorts of changes! Thankfully I was able to book a venesection soon after, as the iron overload fatigue seems to be returning – although, who can really say what other factors may be at play?

bikepacking, bikes, event, friends, NZ, travel, vehicles

To and from Great Southern Brevet 2021

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When Guy casually asked when riding down his way two months ago if I was doing the Great Southern Brevet (of course I was, I’ve been waiting two years to repeat the toughest, and arguably best, bikepacking event I’ve done), little did I expect the offer of transport direct to Tekapo. With commercial flights already booked and paid for, I wasn’t about to turn down the opportunity for my first flight in a light plane – not to mention the convenience of not having hours of driving between airports and Tekapo. As it happens, it’s much easier to get flights refunded these days. Yet another bonus was not having to disassemble and pack my bike up – such a time and effort saver!
So that is how I came to be waiting for Guy one Friday afternoon, at the very airfield where Dad learnt to fly forty-plus years ago (we later worked out that the same instructor taught both of them, thirty-odd years apart). I had plenty of time to wander around and pose my bike against one of its more unusual backdrops. It was not hard to work out which plane was Guy’s – it already had a bikepacking stead in the back, and had a bit of genuine farm coating on the wings.

Two classic Cessna 185s, Guy’s at front (1964).

Having spent most of its life around Mt Cook, ZK-CHL was well recognised around the southern airstrips we landed at.

Guy arrived, my bike was loaded, lifejackets were alarmingly donned (water, what?!) and in no time we were in the air heading southwest.

So much to see out the window and observe in the cockpit as Guy went about routines – endlessly fascinating. Suddenly handed the controls as Guy ate and we approached the Tararuas, I was hardly a natural. But we didn’t hit the ranges, so I’m taking that. Over the course of the flights, I had a few more attempts at handling the plane, which often just flew itself in calm conditions, and enjoyed getting a bit more of a feel for it.

Tararua District

Kapiti Island

Down south now, Molesworth.

Castle Hill area.

A bit of aerial Tour Te Waipounamu scouting.

Lake Tekapo

Two hours and forty minutes later, we were landing at Tekapo, clearing a bit of junk away and tying the plane down out of the wind. Just a few kilometres to roll down the hill to dinner and we were there for the Great Southern Brevet.

After a fantastic week bikepacking all over lands south, the return trip carried on south for a night in Alexandra before the three hours back north.

Different bikepacking bike-packing.

We did see a lot of Mt Cook from a distance on the trip home, on consecutive days.

A different perspective on parts of the GSB route was also fun – Flanagan’s Pass looking much easier here than the long hike-a-bike, although I do note the lack of a visible track.

We rode around the bottom of Lake Ohau a week previously, from right to left and back.

Sunday’s campsite beside the Lindis.

The route down from Thompson’s Gorge. A lot less windy this day.

Heading towards the Clyde Dam down Lake Dunstan, all the while checking out the new cycle trail on the true right that will connect Clyde and Cromwell.

The last section to be connected, the engineering going into the trail is quite remarkable and I look forward to riding it the next time I’m in Central Otago for a holiday.

The drop off the tough Hawksburn Rd to Clyde.

A trying view while spending the night at Mark and Paula’s house – thanks.

Time to go again.

Over the Ida Valley to the Hawkduns.

The climb up Thompsons Gorge, Ida Valley behind.

Little Omarama Saddle, and Mt Cook again.

Manuherika River and the Hawkduns again, on the left.

Hawkduns, St Marys and Kakanuis (distant).

Flying itself on a calm day.

Lake Benmore, Benmore Dam, Otematata and beyond.

No prizes.

Canterbury Plains patchwork.

Suddenly, puppies. Labraspoodles I’m told. We stopped for lunch at Guy’s sister’s in Rangiora.

Fetching lifejackets, I must say! I could get used to Hawke’s Bay Bikepacking trips like this.

Crossing the coastline at Kaikoura, Guy explained some of the earthquake damage (gosh, that’s over four years ago now). You’d think it would be Kaikoura, but it was just off the coast of Wairarapa in Cook Strait, that Guy spotted a big sperm whale. Suddenly we were banking down steeply (in my limited experience) to two hundred feet to get a closer look. I think that is the first whale I’ve seen in the wild; an unexpected bonus to memorable and engaging trips to and from the GSB.

Drying off down the bottom of the North Island by now.

Can’t thank Guy enough for the flights, so enjoyable – near perfect flying weather certainly helped! What bookends to an exceptional week – it’s hard to determine whether the riding or flying comes out on top, twas all that spectacular!

bikes, family, GPS, travel

A Little Niue Biking

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It didn’t take long for me to assemble my bike, but finding the time in the busy swimming, snorkelling and eating schedule was a different matter. Adele was also keen to explore a little by bike (i.e. get around the island without being confined to a damp, musty van with suspension that groaned with every pothole – of which there were multitudes). So Wednesday morning, she borrowed a bike, with fetching basket, from her friends and set off to follow one or two of the designated cycle routes.

I’d done just enough research to learn that there had been some small effort to attract cyclists to Niue to ride various small loops of main roads (quiet), back roads (even quieter) and jungle tracks (quietest). With the map of island in hand we set off to cross the island and form a couple of small loops. Leaving the main road and the coast, it was straight into a steep climb up to a transmitter tower and onto the plateau.

Soon we were on dirt tracks getting deeper into the jungle. At times we passed small patches of cultivation and the occasional dwelling. Apart from dense tropical jungle, little seems to grow around here. The small fields mostly contained more taro than I would ever care to contemplate.

Joining the sealed road that approximately bisects the island, we headed east to find the Vinivini bush track. The trees were a bit larger through here, even less traffic was to be found and only one pack of dogs – they were rather worrying, but. We reached the trailhead and were surprised to see a car (obviously a rental) parked there – would we actually see other people? It threatened to rain, but was generally warm and humid.

We found more taro, and even a bit of papaya. The one we picked didn’t last so well in the basket.

Trail marking wasn’t great, but we’d preloaded maps onto our devices and could mostly work out where we were supposed to be going. After taking the obvious, clear track at one point it quickly terminated at another taro patch. So that left a partially overgrown path to take – plenty of fallen trees to ride around, lift bikes over and tall scrub (not of the stinging variety) to bash through. A little bit of adventure in what was generally a sedate ride. The trail was clear under the canopy, but anywhere the foliage on the ground got light – it was a little out of control.

I found something to clamber over and #bikesrestingagainstearthmovingmachinery.

With the briefest of showers, we reached the end of the trail and joined the perimeter road.

A leisurely hour took us back across the island, past the schools and university campus (?!), and I had to take a peek at the island’s power station – one diesel generator and a decent solar array. I think I earned my two rotis for lunch from that pleasant little outing.

Determined to at least ride around the island once (it’s only logical), the following morning seemed good as the McKirdys were off on a fishing charter catching dinners for subsequent nights. Once again, the roads were deserted and I found for the most part riding was just as fast as driving. Giant and numerous potholes are far more easily avoided on a bike – and there’s not really any need to slow. Weaving through the obstacles I continued in a clockwise direction, avoiding more annoying (and sometimes worrying) packs of medium-sized dogs. They did me no harm, but after encountering dogs while riding in other countries wariness accompanies me.

Plenty more derelict houses peppered the sights of the jungle.

About two-thirds of the way around, along the rugged and even-more-deserted east coast, I found the trail to Togo Chasm. A wide walking trail through lush and unspoilt jungle, I tried riding it for a few hundred metres; alas, it was covered in too many slippery roots and rocks. The pleasant stroll under the canopy deposited me on top a large section of uplifted fossilised coral. The path descended to the top of the chasm and a ladder built for giants descended to the sand below. Sheltered from the Pacific crashing nearby, in this still and sheltered area a few coconut trees had thrived. I enjoyed the peace for a bit before climbing the ladder out.

My bike had not been consumed by the tropical forest in the time I was away.

Unfortunately the rain returned and, strangely for the daytime, set in. It was still warm and interesting riding – just plenty wet! So no more riding photos; as I went around the south of the island the remoteness faded and I was soon passing the only resort. Thankfully, the main road headed inland and the perimeter road went back to being deserted. Nearing Alofi, I found what came closest to being an industrial area – the island’s tip, a quarry, and container compound. It was curious to see a large barge, on wheels, deposited next to a playground surrounded by isotankers – I guess that’s how all the fuel comes in.

I found the others at the Crazy Uga Cafe. It was nice to be out of the rain and get some hot food. The day’s spectacle was the tying up of the monthly-freighter. With the wharf not having a sufficiently deep berth, the small ship had to be tied up out in the bay. What goods was this ship bringing, would they backload empty containers? Just how were they going to get the containers off? That last question at least was soon answered as a very large front-end loader roared down the road towing the aforementioned barge behind it. Over the following days the combined effort of two cranes, a pilot vessel/tug, the barge and the ship’s own crane transferred a series of containers between the ship and shore. It’s a nice reflection of the slow pace of island life that this was quite the spectacle and going-on.

So a couple of nice little rides had me seeing much of the island. I never got around to zig-zagging my way down the centre of the island – but the weather was far more conducive to swimming and there was much to be seen underwater. In that light, it probably wasn’t worth taking my own bike (although that’s always nice) – I could have easily borrowed one and had a less comfortable and reliable adventure!