Just the slightest spits fell overnight, we rose to a gloomy morning with the sandflies rampaging again. Immediately crossing the Lindis, it wasn’t one of those where you can get away with dry feet – leaving us with cold feet for much of the day.

Leaving the headwaters behind, no sight of Melina Ridge this morning.

First climb over to Smith Creek to try and warm us up.

Into another one.

Ninety minutes of pottering past more yards, another private hut and we were soon grovelling up the highway to Lindis Pass. Twasn’t even a mile to roll down before finding the shortcut that would save us some altitude loss and regain to take us to the pylon service road which would be our next hour or so.

Heading south, we got some patches of sun.

Twas lumpy, to say the least.

Occasionally the sky corresponded with the last forecast we’d seen.

Another conservation area demanded more food – unsure if it was second-breakfast or first-lunch, but there was a good bottle-filling stream.

We joined what was supposedly a road, Goodger (great name), but was not really much different to the tracks we’d been travelling on over the hills – win!

Sometimes we spied, and tried to pick out, the Lauder part of the Dunstan Range that we were heading for. More obvious was the Chain Hills that were right beside us, and originally part of our route – as the day wore on we were all pleased we hadn’t gone up there too. Yet another great return option, probably on a big day ride – that ridge riding looks fantastic, but exhausting. Instead we continued across farmland, and up and over small ridges into the next valley.

At the foot of the next big push, we deliberated over the route. The more-direct one Andy had plotted had No Public Access signs posted. There was no one out there so we could probably take it with no issues, but as was pointed out – this wasn’t the way to go and much work had been done arranging the public access there was. We turned around and headed upstream towards the Chain Hills. Past more yards and another private hut, the track was all grass and steepened – it was slow and tedious going.

Reaching the point where we’d sidle around the foot of the Chain Hills, we did at least find signs that further clarified some of the many more possibilities for exploring out here.

The sidling wasn’t much better, but nothing compared to the next section.

Dropping to and pausing to refuel as Cluden Stream, the next push uphill was the toughest of the route. Steeper, it was far more overgrown with long grass – but the wheels still turned. To our utter surprise, the climb then had a bog running down it. Surely bogs are on flat land where water can settle – not cascading down a mountain side? Feet soaked again, there was still hope we’d get into some sunshine by late afternoon.

Eventually the track dried out, the gradient lessened and there were no more switchbacks. Out on the ridge we had views over to the Alps, where we’d come from that day, Dunstan Pass and the Chain Hills, and St Bathans Range looming behind.

That’s better.

A bit of sun for the day. Andy’s photo.

St Bathans Range in the background, in the middle Dunstan Pass on the left and further right one of the Chain Hills tracks.

Much the same, but now the rocky tors had begun to appear as we gained hundreds of metres gradually along the tops.

We’d come from somewhere just in front of that small patch of snow.

Many tussocks; looking out to the Alps around Hawea.

Quickly, the low cloud that we had seen sitting over Central Otago blew through on the southerly that had been cooling us much of the day.

Still we kept climbing to more and more rocks.

Now getting above the level of the Chain Hills, we were making progress.

Mistakenly waiting in the lee of a big rock thinking that was the top. Sigh…

Cold enough for jackets and thick gloves. At least we’d made the top; although whizzing down would be even colder. Andy’s photo.

Over the Manuherikia valley in Central Otago – I’d ridden through there the week before.

Time to start dropping 1200 metres in quick time; hands cold from stopping too much to goggle at the view and take pictures.

The usual Spot the Track – fun and fast descent.

Only the week before I’d ridden Thomsons Gorge and wondered about exploring the hills extending either side of the pass and now here I was looking at it from those very hills. Huzzah for having the time and flexibility to say yes to such riding opportunities that just come along – more of this, please!

A snippet of the big descent into and through Lauder Station – fun and fast farm track riding.

Having far too much fun, I soon resumed my gatekeeper role – which gave the opportunity to regroup. A long day, some said as tough as a TTW day – I’m unconvinced, I was given the extra job when stopped next to call ahead to the Vulcan in St Bathans to see if they had rooms and would keep the kitchen open. That was easy enough, the manager was most agreeable, there were two spare bunk rooms and they’d rustle up some food for us – it’s improved so much from my memory of it, now that the management has changed. That just left a big hillside to get off and half an hour of gradual climb to the village.

Made it in plenty of time where we were well looked after – even if some of us almost fell asleep eating the large meals!

For the second day in a row, I was absolutely blown away by the country we’d been able to travel through and take in. Perhaps more astounding was all the other opportunities apparent for future adventures. Two days in and already I couldn’t say which was my favourite.

So excited by the chance to go on Andy’s Conservation Area Loop (what I’m calling it anyway) was I, that I cut short New Year’s riding to return home and prepare for it. Aiming to string together a number of parks and their tops using farm tracks to that have only relatively recently become accessible sounded a grand idea to me – this plan had been fermenting in Andy’s mind for a while. What’s more, the forecast steadily improved in the week before. We had five days to ride the 300+ kilometre route; knowing little of the country, except that it would be very hilly, four days seemed likely for a good touring, definitely not race, pace.

A big breakfast in a Kurow cabin and a civil seven-thirty start and we were away up the Alps2Ocean. I’d not ridden the longest cycle trail in the country in its entirety for many years, so was pleased to find that a lot of more of it has been taken off the Waitaki Valley highway. It was still early and warming well, we wondered if we’d gotten things completely wrong watching the pleasure boats on the hyrdo dams.

Across Lake Benmore from the dam remembering previous trips on that lumpy pylon access road.

Across the dam and there’s now a trail up there, instead of going through Otematata down at valley floor level.

Looking over Otematata Station to the Hawkduns brought back memories of stinking hot days climbing up there less than a year ago on the first Tour Te Waipounamu. Comparisons to and memories of our respective TTW races would be a regular topic, such was its significance in our bikepacking lives.

I was thrilled that this new section of A2O took us high above the lake to give views of parts I’d not seen before.

There was some steady climbing, but equally fun downhills, and the section to Sailors Cutting provided a good warm-up. It’s a popular trail and there were plenty of riders to greet as they rode the, preferred, opposite direction. I think it’s just as good as the more-hyped Lake Dunstan Trail – the views are less confined, and there’s no highway noise for starters.

Still surprised at just how green this normally barren area is looking this summer.

The standard big meal at Wrinkly Rams consumed, we were soon out into the afternoon for a hour of gradual highway climbing towards Lindis Pass. Holiday traffic wasn’t too bad, none of the big rigs I’m used too. We continued up the Ahuriri valley as the highway turned towards the pass.

Almost another hour up the wide valley, getting closer to the access easement.

Andy’s photo.

Stunner, hot afternoon.

We were advised to cross the Avon Burn as soon as possible and stick to the farm track, much easier going than the nearby poled route.

The track soon left the stream with some steep pinch climbs.

As we got into the hills, we constantly pondered just which track we would soon be ascending. Andy’s photo.

We found this sweet, old private hut just before the long push began.

Available to stay in for a small fee, it was a beaut. Around four o’clock, most of us were tempted to call it a day there. But we’d not even managed a hundred kilometres, and little climbing – it was well too early to waste such kind, calm conditions. There began two hours of mostly walking through six hundred metres of ascent. All on reasonable double-track, the pushing was easy enough – that is, wheels rolled and there was no carrying.

Looking up to the big switchback, that was almost halfway up the total climb.

The views changed constantly and they were staggering. Spotting all the similar tracks dozed across and up other hills was a favourite – I want to explore them all!

Back down Avon Burn, the hut near those yards.

I’d been a bit nervous about recent medical things, so forwent a comfortable tent for a bivy bag and a stove for dry, cold meals (the forecast was good) to save a bit of weight – this helped to keep my bike moving a little faster. Rachel and I both left backpacks behind, but both found adequate solutions to strapping our front packs to our back to lighten bikes further for prolonged pushes.

Looking south before switching back and crossing that face two pictures above.

Running out of words for a while.

I can see at least eight tracks there I want to explore!

Into Otago now and the start of the Lindis River, we’d be down there soon enough.

Waiting a bit, scoping out more tracks.

The trail changed for the last few kilometres to the summit, with a little dip around the corner to climb out of.

It was so unbelievably still at the top of the Melina Ridge track, I was more than happy to linger waiting for Andy and Rachel – soaking in the views all around and scheming further adventures now that my eyes helped me to grasp the possibilities that a friend had mentioned on my arrival to Otago.

Tough place for fenceposts.

Eventually we were able to draw ourselves away from the views and set off down.

Through the gate into our first conservation area, I was not stopping on the downhill that presented itself.

Screaming down through a five hundred metre drop in ten minutes of big switchbacks and plenty of bouncing around on my loaded, rigid bike was oh so much fun. So much fun that I have no photos. I’d apologise, but it was completely worth it! Much possibility to come back with a trail bike (not far off now, new one is in the country).

More waiting (eight minutes, which is not bad considering how much more media the others got) gave the chance to top up bottles at the creek and sit on a big rock in the sun looking down the valley.

Another climb from that stream did at least give a good view of the bottom part of the descent. One can see the Mt Melina track, that left the ridge track at its highpoint.

Now down in the Lindis valley floor and past the turn off to Mt Prospect (another riding possibility), nearing a twelve hour day, with the sublime Melina Ridge in there, seemed a reasonable time to look for a nice campsite before getting too close to the highway. We found a sheltered one on some river flats near a tributary that we would turn up the next day and set ourselves up for the night. What a fantastic day of brilliant weather, amazing new views, great company and excellent riding – the pushing wasn’t even that bad either.