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!
Whirinaki Forest Park
First day heading west, a detour off the much less interesting Napier-Taihape Gentle Annie Road.
Cape Egmont, western most point.
Pete heading through the rural hills of Taranaki.
Approaching East Cape and a heinous headwind.
Looking towards Waikaremoana on the last night while heading for home.
Local exploration continued when allowed, this little province continuing to fascinate me – mostly with its hills and rivers.
Nope, not a bad spot to be stuck for seven weeks; the weather was brill too.
Bell Rock, only very windy and with enough snow around to make things interesting.
Mahia Peninsula, mid-winter.
The calm before the storm on Six Corners event, around Golden Bay.
Just an hour or so of pushing through the snow on the Heaphy.
Back to Waiuta – a favourite from 
The second time on the Old Ghost Road in five days, this time an out and back to the high point, the first a big through ride starting and ending in Westport on the Monday. Great weather, big views and fabulous riding both times.
At long last spending time in the Kawekas, instead of the the edge.
We’d head for those hills in the morning.
Just more coal casually lying about.
Out into the alpine at 900 m, Ces Clark Hut immediately appeared.
But we got to this cute wee hut first.
Up at the main hut, we watched as clouds rolled up the valley occasionally allowing us a view of our surroundings.
This could have been a lot worse with a gale rushing up the slope from the sea, to the right.
There were enough glimpses down to know that it’d be worth waiting for a clear day (or few hours might be all that one could reasonably ask for) to ride through.
Suddenly, there is the Tasman Sea; not often I’m this high so close to the sea.
Clouds dissipated long enough to see the large escarpment we would ride just behind the ridge line of.
The next hut, also new, was just perceptible left of centre of this shot – we’d approach along the ridge from the right.
Rachel escaping the lair.
Quite the well made trail in rugged, inhospitable terrain – I was impressed.
Out of dense forest, the view opened and we could just spy a few Pike River Mine structures. I knew it was remote, but this was a level beyond what I was expecting; the sight was fairly incongruous and gave pause to reflect.
That hut’s getting closer, the route to be taken not much clearer.
The descent starting in earnest around here with a big series of switchbacks.
Seemed rude not to make the most of the various trailside seats we found. Lone Hand, on the right of that little range, fair captivated me – upturned towards the heavens as it was.
Home for the weekend.
Wheki-ponga may have been the word of the weekend.
Kahikatea line the lagoon on a misty Sunday morning.
Some marshmallows may have been harmed in the making of s’mores.