All posts by bpheasant

bikes, family, MTB, NZ

Alps 2 Ocean – Duntroon to Oamaru section

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In the time since I left New Zealand, extensive work has been done around the country to develop a large number of cycle trails – rather obviously The New Zealand Cycle Trail. While most are a lot tamer than mountain-bike trails I usually prefer to ride, the trails are in some spectacular parts of the country. Browsing the website during my last winter in the UK, I got quite excited by the chance of riding some of these trails over the coming summer (& beyond) to try & reacquaint myself with the country. Especially if they’re anything like the Queen Charlotte Walkway – the only one I’ve done before & the best multi-day bike trail I’ve ridden.

Both Adele & I have to do significant training on our mountain-bikes for upcoming events. Adele is doing her first adventure race – Godzone at the end of February; I think she is mad. I for some reason have signed up for the Kiwi Brevet at the start of February – 1150 km of bikepacking in a maximum of eight days; I may also be crazy – but at least I’ll see a lot of the top of the South Island. So to kickstart our training, an easy little ride at the top of the final section of the Alps 2 Ocean cycle trail coincided well with a dentist appoinment in Oamaru.

The Alps 2 Ocean trail runs from the shadow of Mt Cook (NZ’s highest mountain) in the Southern Alps for just over three hundred kilometres to the Pacific Ocean at Oamaru (overall south-east). Having spent some time in the area previously, I can safely assume the whole route must be a beautiful ride. With only a few hours, not a few days, we drove to the start of the final section of the trail in Duntroon and determined to ride out and back as our time allowed. We had about four hours so I thought we would get half of the distance to Oamaru (55 km) before having to turn back to the car.

The section starts off gently enough on quiet highway towards Elephant Rocks. Very soon there is a dedicated cycle path beside the road – always nice to be off the road, even when there is next to no traffic. Passing Elephant Rocks, Adele managed to deal with not having her rock shoes with her – the limestone rock formations are very popular for bouldering. Passing an abandoned film set (the area has also be used for various films – the Chronicles of Narnia series probably the most well known) the trail departed from beside the road across farmland.

Over Elephant Rocks – very pleasant riding weather, not so good for photos.

Having both spent a lot of time in the area (Adele in particular – my family spent most of the last fifteen years living in Oamaru after I finished high school), we weren’t expecting too much from the scenery – just wanting to go for a nice ride. However, soon we were riding up a narrow valley surrounded by limestone cliffs before some tight switchbacks took us above the cliffs and through more farmland and it was lovely; at times the views opened up.

Since leaving the highway we had been climbing gently; cresting the hill the trail surface deteriorated – up until this point it had been very good, but here it seemed most people chose to ride on the adjacent farm track thus the cycle trail was a bit loose. We descended nicely through more farmland and beside cliffs to rejoin quiet roads for a relatively flat three kilometres. Back on cycle trail across farmland we were soon following the route of the old Tokorahi branch railway line – this didn’t last long as we diverged and started the second and last noteworthy climb of the section.

Part-way up that climb we rejoined gravel roads to the highpoint of the section, we continued along the ridge for a little while to get a more riding in, before reaching the top of Tunnel Rd and deciding that it was time to turn around and head for the car. Having cycled a lot more than Adele recently (and ever), I had the opportunity to stop and take photos – so here a few typical of the area.

I think Adele is trying to match the sign. The A2O is very well signposted – we didn’t bother carrying a map (except that on my GPS) and had no problems following the trail.

Coming back down the switchbacks from earlier – they’re definitely designed for climbing in the small space available for their construction.

Somehow, a classic roadside reflector, that I remember from my childhood (they’re no longer wooden), has found its place beside the trail.

Slightly disappointed that logistics meant we couldn’t ride the whole of the section, when I learnt Dad was going to Oamaru the following day for a few hours I jumped at the opportunity to return and complete the remainder of the section. The lower half of the section is pretty flat and mostly goes through dairy farms. Dad dropped me off at the start of the rail trail portion on Saleyards Rd and I headed out east. Riding by myself I stopped less frequently and was much quicker. It was strange riding past and through many farms that our family has been involved in for almost twenty years. That is, mostly Dad has been involved in setting the companies up and converting them from sheep to dairy and their management – but Adele milked cows on two of the farms as a summer job and even I spent one university holiday period working on two of the farms (I remember almost losing control of a large tractor down a hill).

This end of the section was even more familiar to me than the Duntroon end, so I didn’t stop to take many pictures. Heading back to the ridge where we turned around the previous day, there was a little bit more effort needed as the climb started on gravel. Not having studied the map in any detail, I was a little surprised when the sign pointed away from the road and along the edge of a forest. Rejoining the old rail line I rounded a corner to see the trail disappear into a tunnel – this I was not expecting at all, but the name Tunnel Road should have been a bit of a giveaway.

Without any bike-lights I ventured into the gloom wondering how far I could ride before having to resort to cell-phone light. As it happens, the east end of the tunnel is pretty straight so one can get a fair way in with a slight awareness of where the walls may be. The west end of the tunnel is curved, so not much light is available as you pass the halfway point. Just as it was about to become pitch black, I got far enough around the curve not to be in danger of riding into a wall and could even avoid the drips from the roof. It was a short ride up Tunnel Rd to where we had got to yesterday – I duly turned around and headed for the ocean. The tunnel was a little more difficult heading east – mostly because it was now slightly downhill & I was travelling faster & it was further into the darkness before my eyes adjusted.

I did think I should stop & get at least a few photos of typical dairy farm country – you can probably see why I didn’t stop more often.

I was in Oamaru looking around well before I’d told Dad I’d be back – so I had time to have a look around the “Historic Area”, which after so long in Europe was rather bemusing. But it is quite nice and there are some interesting shops – especially nice as the clouds had rolled back a bit. Strangely, someone has declared Oamaru the Steampunk Capital of NZ since I’ve been gone – that’s just a little odd in conservative North Otago. I eventually found the end of the Alps 2 Ocean trail down near the recently done-up harbourside area at Friendly Bay (I had lost the trail downtown Oamaru as a section was closed temporarily for tree-felling and no-one had thought or bothered to put up a detour).

What this is all about I can’t really tell – but it’s curious.

So, that was my time on but a short part of the Alps 2 Ocean cycle trail. Thoroughly enjoyable, well thought-out & designed and pleasant – what a great resource for the areas it passes through. I look forward to riding the whole path in the New Year (here’s hoping) and exploring more such trails around the country.

Here are the gps (gpx) trails of Section 8 – Duntroon to Oamaru – Alps 2 Ocean cycle trail for reference.

city, food, friends, NZ

Auckland jet-lag recovery

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After a solid twenty-four hours of being on Dreamliners (only remarkable by the amount I dozed), I was back in NZ & it was hot and sunny. I’d planned a few days in Auckland to try & recover from the exhausting trip and the horrible cold I’d been fighting for a week, and to spend time with good friends.

So that was pretty much what I did – although regular sleep patterns did take a while to resume, not helped by being playfully attacked in the middle of the night by Monkey. Unfortunately, Monkey, a very lovely cat, met his demise later in the week coming off second best against a car – nothing to do with him keeping me awake I must add.

Thanks to all those who took the time to see me, or fed me, or both.

Rangitoto Island from Mount Eden.

Slight sugar overload at Little & Friday.

Edison enjoyed it at least.

The rest of the morning was spent on the beach & hills of Devonport.

The pohutukawas are flowering early this year – hopefully the sign of a good summer to come.

Before long my short stay in Auckland was over & I was on one of these black planes winging my way south to be reunited with my family.

Africa, around home, bikepacking, bikes, Canada, combe raiders, Europe, family, friends, London, MTB, national park, roadtrip, snow, travel, UK, USA

Five and a half years

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Well, my bike is packed up in its bag again, most of my possessions were collected yesterday for shipping back to New Zealand and, really, I’m a bit bored of packing. I leave London for NZ – five and a half years to the week after I left to see a little bit of the world – curious if I can settle back in a beautiful country far at the bottom of the globe. At the least, I should get a good summer of riding in. Over dinner with Trish at our favourite local Italian pizzeria the other night, there was plenty to reflect on – many excellent things, only two or three not so great happenings, all memorable.

So excuse me while I try to remember most of them and jot them down for posterity. Naturally I’ll start with the highlights in no particular order, as there are many.

As I delve into the archives, this is proving more difficult to narrow it down than I expected, …

My first port of call was the States – little did I know that would be the first of four visits and about six months in total in the country, it turns out the west is fantastic for scenery and mountain-biking.

A west-USA road-trip with plenty of mountain-biking was always a pipe-dream for when I was in my forties or fifties – thanks to living in Canada & the company of my aunt, Valerie, it became a reality much earlier.

The best biking holiday was my return to Moab last year – fantastic trails, great company & beautiful scenery – click on the photo above to watch the video Megan put together.

I also never intended to visit Africa four times, but somehow that happened. Each of the four safaris were quite different, but all excellent.

But the first one in the Masai Mara was the best.

Seeing the Pyramids on Christmas day was excellent – not very crowded either.

I only briefly went to Asia, on a visit to Turkey:


Gliding over the spectacular landscape of Cappadocia in a hot air balloon is indelibly in my memory.

Five weeks’ vacation almost five years ago in the Canadian Rockies saw me learn to ski, a bit, and then all of a sudden, living in Bow Valley for a year of mountain-biking in the summer and skiing in the winter.


Returning to the UK, I managed to settle into a job that I quite liked – that was, until the rather horrible drawn-out experience of plant closure & many redundancies. It was a good base for travels near & far while it lasted – the long, dry & hot summer of 2013 was especially good with many mountain-biking trips around the south-west. Always good to visit Taunton & also ride with my Somerset riding buddies, the Combe Raiders – whatever the weather.

That summer saw me enter a few biking events too – a six-hour solo (nice trail, but boring riding round & round the same thing for six hours), a couple of marathon events, & culminating in my first multi-day stage event.

That event, as you can probably tell from this photo taken while riding along, was in Africa.

Apart from the redundancy experience already mentioned, only two other notable low-points are worth bringing up. The mugging incident in San Diego the day after I left NZ is still the best if I ever have to tell one story from my travels. The ongoing shoulder dislocation saga was painful in a different way – but after four dislocations I had surgery and it’s been fine ever since.

With all the trips to North America & Africa, I perhaps didn’t see as much of Europe as I originally hoped. But I managed a fair few trips – with Italy being the most visited country, five times now I think. I also loved the time spent living in London wandering around all parts of the city & delving into the history. Due to the demise of work, my bikepacking tour of western Europe was brought forward to this year & shortened (& then shortened even more when I got sick of travelling alone in the August rain & mud).

Straddling the German-Belgian border somewhere.

One of the most pleasing & proud parts of the trip was crossing the Alps over Great Saint Bernard Pass – because my grandfather did the same on a bike sixty-five years ago.

Somehow I ended up spending four weeks living & working on a small vineyard in the north-west of Italy – eating a lot, hiking a bit, making new friends & thoroughly enjoying myself. Learning a second-language, Italian – thanks to work, was something I never thought I’d do – but it turned out I really enjoyed it.

Hiking near Monto Bianco.

Oh, almost forgot the whirlwind two-week trip back to NZ (the only one) for some friends’ wedding, and coincidentally my thirtieth birthday & many celebrations with friends & family all over the country. Hectic, but most enjoyable.

The visit also coincided with my shoulder being declared fit – so after six months of no biking, it was great to be active again – here skiing near Wanaka.

I’ll be back with these fine folks next week – hard to believe we’ll have our first Christmas all together since 2006.

That’ll do for unashamed self-indulgence – thanks to all the family & friends that made all this possible in many different ways (usually providing somewhere to sleep & plenty to eat). Biggest thanks goes to cousin Trish in London for repeatedly opening up her home to this often-vagabond – all this would not have been possible or lasted nearly as long otherwise.

city, Europe, friends, travel

Stockholm weekend

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Way back when I was in Italy for a month somehow I ended up booking flights to Stockholm for the weekend just past – as Bea was going to exhibit at a trade-show & invited me along. At twenty pounds each way, it wasn’t too much of a big deal if I couldn’t or decided not to go. This time last week I was still undecided, but ended up booking accommodation & therefore I was going. Flying from Stansted also provided a good opportunity to continue the bike-touring farewells to extended family – this time with not quite as much riding.

I set off across London aiming further west than necessary so as to connect to National Cycle Route 1 alongside the Lea. Within long I was under the Thames & riding along the Greenway – a very straight raised cycleway/footpath. I was pleased to discover I was riding on top of Victorian industrial history – the North Outfall Sewer from the 1860s. After visiting Crossness a few years ago I recognised Abbey Mills Pumping Station pretty easily – also an impressive building considering its designed use.

It was a perfect winter’s day for cycling – still & crisp.

Eventually I had to leave the river & cut back east to Carol & Barry’s. First I found this little village:

And then I found the Matching church a couple of miles away, the possibility of bad puns is obvious.

I made it before dark and was warmly welcomed and plied with vast amounts of food – a sure way to make a cyclist happy after fifty-odd miles. Conveniently, the airport is only a short-hop on a local bus away; I had plenty of time to get stuck into War & Peace again. This weekend has been my only experience of the much-maligned Ryan Air – but when a return trip to Stockholm for about the same price I’ve paid for a eighty-minute off-peak train journey in southern England, one really shouldn’t complain too much.

By the time I was on the coach into Stockholm, the sun was already starting to set – this was going to take a little getting used to. After meeting Bea & her friends, then meeting my airbnb host & settling into the vast rooms I’d somehow got for a very reasonable price (in a lovely period apartment block) I was back out again. To my surprise we (me & the Italians) ended up taking the metro some distance out of the centre and before I knew it I was in an extensive indoor-climbing gym watching a Swedish bouldering competition with a couple of hundred Swedish climbing enthusiasts; I am still unsure how that happened.

Saturday was the first day of the trade-show, so I excused myself from providing Italian-English translation of dubious quality and went to have a proper look around the city. Walking across town the morning was absolutely miserable as cars clattered past with spiked tyres on roads free of ice & snow – dense cloud all around, cold and just plain bleak. I was beginning to regret the decision to go on one last Euro weekend trip before my return to summer next week. Thankfully, I went to the Vasa Museum, was thoroughly impressed and my enthusiasm for seeing new places returned.

The Vasa story is similar to the Mary Rose in that it was a warship launched to much fanfare (in this case, in 1628) and then promptly sunk on its maiden voyage while crowds watched, before being salvaged in more modern times. The Vasa sunk in little more than a breeze (it was too narrow for its height & its high centre of gravity) less than a mile into its first outing in Stockholm harbour before it was brought up 333 years later in 1961. Due to the brackish water & subsequent absence of shipworm to hasten its decay, it’s in remarkable shape at over ninety-five percent intact. At almost seventy metres long and twelve metres across it is a very impressive sight – & looks strangely familiar as the Black Pearl from the Pirates of the Caribbean film series was heavily influenced by it. I easily spent close to three hours in the museum, it was fantastic & the highlight of what I saw in Stockholm, before considering braving the cold again.

Many of the carvings were still discernible – lions on the underside of the gun hatches to intimidate the passersby/enemy.

In a better mood, I found things I thought it was worth taking photos of.

The apartment block that was home for the weekend.

With the trade-show finishing around eight, I popped in & managed not to sample too much wine & grappa before we headed out for dinner with yet more Italians. I expected to hear a bit of Swedish, naturally, over the weekend – but I think I heard mostly Italian spoken; which is a bit of fun trying to work out what is being said, but my vocabulary is still too limited so mostly I had no idea!

Sunday was, to my delight, a bit warmer & a lot brighter. It was a pretty easy day with a late brunch followed by a visit to Skansen – a large historic village with old buildings from all over Sweden that aims to give a sense of how people lived this far north over centuries past. It was nice being outside leisurely wandering around learning a bit; there was also a small wildlife park which provided some entertainment – but I’ve been spoilt by East Africa too many times to be captivated by such displays.

The sun even came out, except we weren’t really standing in its light.

Walking back past the Vasa museum, these replica masts show how tall the ship was.

Once the sun had set the rest of the day was spent among excellent company and conversation (some of which I could understand) in various bars. So that was pretty much my last little Euro trip for who-knows-how-long – it didn’t start fantastically, but I came around and really enjoyed it. I’d very much like to see Stockholm during long summer days – it must be quite something.

Apparently I missed a Sunday of horrendous rain back in England – but Monday’s sunset was worth seeing.

Now that I’m back home, I just have to pack my life up into a few boxes and bags, clean my bike thoroughly for the NZ border and say last farewells. Should be manageable.