As a plan, bothering to find a room for the night after a tiring day works much better when one actually sleeps. Alas, I did not for whatever reason – probably having too many anticipatory thoughts about riding bikes over the coming week. So many unknowns and adventures to be had! Pete and Nathan left just after four, I managed to carry my bike down the stairs and ride off into the dark just after half-past. Southwest out of Omarama for an hour, past the sentient centre-pivot irrigators blinking in the darkness, it was a gradual climb to the end of the flat pasture and the foot of the hills. An early start did at least claw back most of the distance I had hoped to ride the previous night.

Well made four-wheel drive track led the way up to Little Omarama Saddle (which paradoxically is higher than Omarama Saddle), but it was steep. Uncharacteristically, I quickly relented to pushing my bike – perhaps knowing that a fourteen percent climb rising almost seven hundred metres would not be the only steep ascent of the day, let alone the week.

The sun started to hit the basin from which I’d steeply left – the track across the bottom of the frame.

Short sections, I managed to ride – but otherwise it was a pleasant morning walk with my bike up a hill looking out over the surrounding farms, tussock-clad hills and mountains.

Finally, the high point came into view and I crossed from Canterbury to Otago.

Just after seven o’clock at the summit, it was fresh – I was pleased I didn’t sleep up there as one of the riders did. It was a rollicking, and chilly, descent with a couple of dozen stream crossings to soak one’s feet with cool water. It wasn’t the only time that week that I thought having front suspension might have been a good idea. Shortly after the only crossing that was too deep and swift for me to ride, Jake and Steve caught up with me. They had left town later, but were clearly faster than me. Chatting a bit, I then let them go – often catching up to them at the many closed gates.

Things flattened out and opened up a bit and we joined the eastern branch of the Manuherikia River.

The bridge over the river had long since been washed out, but picking the right spot it was easy enough to ride through.

Briefly we were on the gravel road that I rode with family only three weeks before. We passed our picnic spot and turned off to Falls Dam; the dilapidated fishing huts beside the reservoir were the gateway to the short, but steeply up and down, trail to the dam.

Looking over the overflow intake to the Hawkdun Range, our route enters the frame from the left.

A short section of nice gravel took us down to the St Bathans road and then up to briefly join the deserted highway. With Jake & Steve playing leapfrog with me, we raced down to Oteruha and the Otago Central Rail Trail. Being nine o’clock on a Sunday morning, I was not surprised to find no stores open; I was somewhat surprised to have caught up to Pete though. We set off on the rail trail together. That hour of the day is well before the hoards of tourists on rented bikes are up riding – so we could ride side by side, chat and make good time to Omakau to ensure we got one of the famous pies before they sold out.

Admiring the clouds as we headed into Lauder.

After the early start, an early lunch was in order – and one really can’t go past the venison pies in Omakau. We caught up with a few other riders, including Muurtle Turtle who had ridden out to meet riders from Alexandra. Stocking up at the store fortified us for the steep climb Pete and I knew was coming. Unfortunately we were about to turn towards the wind that had been rather kind to us all morning. Racecourse Road north out of town gave us ten kilometres to get our legs going again. Then the steepness hit – but at least more of it was rideable than the previous climb that day.

I’d ridden this part of the route just after Christmas a year prior, and was quite looking forward to seeing it again. It didn’t disappoint, although I took far fewer photos – knowing I already had them. Once again, there were far too many closed gates – this time annoyingly on a public road. At least with Pete, and then Steve & Jake catching up, one did not have to do all the gate-duty.

The wind started to get up as we climbed out of the valley that’s in the middle of Thomson Gorge Road. It became a bit concerning that it was easier to walk into the wind, rather than ride up the climb. Then, being such a lightweight, I was blown off my bike. That was unusual. I became more circumspect after that. Finally we reached the summit and began the long downhill to the Lindis River. With the wind howling up towards us, I was still more cautious than normal.

Unfortunately Pete got stuck in a rut and came a cropper, crashing and splitting his lip rather well. It looked like it needed stitches, but there wasn’t much chance of that out there. With the bleeding halted, Pete was good to keep riding, although we did take a half hour rest once we were close to the river.

I well remembered the gravel road and then highway towards Wanaka being interminable. In the headwind, it was horrendous; the holiday traffic wasn’t much better either. Eventually we joined the singletrack beside the Clutha for the final thirty kilometres to Wanaka. We feared that this would be just as testing, but as the trail twisted and turned, rose and fell, besides the river the wind was far more manageable.

First trail angel! Delicious cookies left out for GSB riders just before Albertown.

We’d decided earlier to call it a day in Wanaka so Pete could get medical attention. I also figured the wind may abate for a while in the early hours of the next day. Topping up on food for the next day, we set off for some excellent southern hospitality. A longer day than I’d had for a while, I was well pleased with how it went – two decent climbs, but apart from that it was pretty flat and gave a taster of the wind to come.