Two hundred and twenty kilometres left of the course, it was identical to my last twenty hours of GSB19. So no surprises to be had, and although it was a far longer distance than any day I’d ridden that week – with only two small (in comparison) passes, good surfaces all day, the southerly still blowing well and simply knowing I have and can ride such days – I was wondering if we’d get to the finish. However it was interesting to hear the talk of riding buddies throughout the day – general consensus was that it would be nice to camp approaching the last pass and enjoy another night out, around seventy kilometres from Tekapo; getting all the way to Tekapo would blow many ever-increasing longest-daily-distances completely out of the water.

It sounded nice, and I had been trying to slow down a bit – so I was willing to give that a try. I mean, what was the rush? We’d been having a great time out here, why hurry back and end it? Still, I was wondering how it would play out. With the riding going to be pretty benign compared to the much tougher days we’d all just done, would people really stop so early in the day with such a short distance to go? Fascinating.

Thankfully the Ranfurly store and cafe opened at seven, as after the long haul from Roxburgh and getting in late we very much needed to resupply. The southerly pushed us up the gentle rise to Naseby and around the water race (last seen way back on Day Two) through the forest. I thought I’d warm up, but after two hours of riding I struggled to do so – so a brief layover in Naseby to thaw out a bit. It worked a treat and I continued on the familiar road out of town.

Easy ascent to Naseby, enjoying the sunlight while it lasted.

Turn towards Danseys Pass, before the climbing begins in earnest, I simply can’t go past the Dansey’s Pass Hotel. Especially when there are GSB bikes outside. It never disappoints and it was nice to find some company; the tea and scones probably helped.

Leaving with Dave, it was good to finally spend some time riding together. There’s rarely traffic up here, and with the road only just reopening the day before, it was easy to ride alongside chatting away. The climbing was easy with the wind pushing us up the hill, but it was still cold. Nearing the pass itself, it got rather bleak so it was time for more layers for the soon drop to the lavender farm.

I’d remembered the big climb soon after, but the extent of it always surprises me. At least it was warming and the long downhill to Duntroon was most pleasant. Previously bouncing around between Dave and Eileen, I was promptly dropped as the road flattened – as is my tendency. Time for a decent snack break at the start of the twenty-five kilometre Alps2Ocean section to Kurow, that didn’t ward off a flat section for me. Not an engaging section of trail, and having turned into a strong wind I was slow and not having a great time. I did amuse me to see the giant stand of willows I rather hilariously got lost in at midnight last time around, and I could see how it happened – route finding down the fluid river bed was difficult enough in broad daylight, let alone nineteen hours and 240+ kilometres into a day at the end of a challenging week. At least this time I had a better idea of where to go.

Eventually I made it into Kurow (about halfway to Tekapo) around three o’clock, tuckered out and just a bit low – in part because such a fantastic week was drawing to an end. But there was food to be had and the wind would soon be helpful again on a gorgeous afternoon. Not finding my first pie of the week at the convenience store, the cafe across the road was a far better option. Both Dave and Katie were struggling to finish comically large potato wedges (most bigger than my hand, some almost as thick as my wrist), apparently the burgers were as ridiculously oversized – but I’ll have to visit again to find out.

Fuelled up, we left the cafe in dribs and drabs, the talk still seeming to be of camping out somewhere – I was highly skeptical by now. It’s funny how things can seem to change so quickly (of course, nothing much has really changed but on such rides, one’s mindset is such a large component), with music near blaring from my phone and a faintly ridiculous sing-a-long in progress I felt like I charged up the small hill after crossing the Waitaki. Pleased with this burst of energy and lightened mood, I was not letting it go to waste – especially as I’d had such a tough final hundred kilometres last time around. In high spirits and actually enjoying the long, very gentle gravel climb up the valley Katie was soon hauled in and plenty of chat (another deserted, wide gravel road) ensued, the kilometres flying by – not wholly due to comparing it to the long tedious drag up here in 2019.

Early evening by now, and with only sixty kilometres to go and as the approach to the pass pitched up, it was time for a big rest stop and refuel – admiring the view as Dave, to our amusement, pulled out a large box and proceeded to try and unload the wedges (quite the anchor). We still couldn’t finish them between us, I’m sure he still had them the next morning – perhaps they even fuelled his Kiwi Brevette ride this last week?

As nice as it was there was no talk of camping anymore, we simply kept riding.

Slowly the gradient increased.

Approaching the pass – such pleasant riding conditions, it was hardly troublesome.

Obligatory. 45 km? Simple…

I mean, it looks all downhill.

Much fun on the descent off the pass; surprised to see a tent this early and close to the finish, we stopped briefly to chat to Tony and Karen, who had started a day late and a day around the course and looked to be having a grand time fast-touring the route. Camp chairs, seriously?!

Downhill finished, I’d remembered the horrible traverse across the widened valley to the highway. That helpful southerly was now a very strong head-crosswind. Slowly we climbed to the highway, sixteen kilometres of good road took us almost an hour. But soon enough we were at the busy highway, donning as many flashing lights as possible, for the final run into town. Almost an hour gradually climbing on the highway with a beautiful evening sky, we were pretty spent and each glad for the company; with the final drop into town, we’d almost made it!

Rounding the lakeshore to the Church of the Good Shepherd we were very pleased to be finishing after that section of highway. Hang on, what’s all this noise? Alarmingly, bewilderingly and unseen on any of the dozen or so bikepacking events I’ve done, a lot of cheering, clapping and general celebration was coming from a fair group of fellow riders and company. It was slightly overwhelming, usually one is lucky if there are two people at the end of one of these.

Photo: Dave King

Video: Dave King

But so very cool to be welcomed home by bikepacking friends old and new, what a great way to finish the week. Handshakes, hugs and finish line beers – pretty fortunate. Especially in light of the subsequent comments from friends abroad about how thoroughly normal the video above looks; but after a year of pandemic raging overseas, also how utterly surreal it all looked. Yet another reminder to get out and make the most of the freedom we have for who-knows-how-long down at the bottom of the world.

Pretty happy about that ride. Photo: Dave King

How good is this?! Photo: Dave King

Light finally fading, we rode back to the lakeside lodge for some quick barbecue leftovers, I found some cleaner non-bike clothes before hurriedly piling into vehicle again heading for the finish. Eileen and Joe were riding in, and I think they were similarly overwhelmed by the reception! Perhaps more so as they finished just as night surrounded us – all the noise out of the darkness must have been even more jarring. After having ridden so much with Eileen and seen her daily distances records continually smashed, it was very exciting to see her first 200+ km day completed to finish the route at least a day and a half earlier than originally expected.

Back at the lodge, the party continued – although being pretty tired and hungry I may have missed most of it? Still, excellent reminiscing of the week past. I don’t know what it is about the GSB (is it the route, the terrain, the scenery, the people?); the last one had such a profound effect on me, I’d spent two years waiting for this edition. Even though expectations changed with the recent shoulder dislocation and this one was quite different for me, all goals were met – shoulder survived, found some fitness, saw beautiful places, slowed down and enjoyed more riding with others – and some lessons were learned too. Nonetheless, only two weeks since, the effects are still just as profound and I can’t wait for the next one!

Thanks to Dave and crew for all the organising, and all the people who shared the ride along the way.