Rock & Pillar Range Outing

The Rock & Pillars Range was the destination for a group four-wheel-drive trip organised as a fundraiser for Dad’s local golf club. I was keen to see somewhere new, so happily went along. The meeting point for eight-thirty in the morning was over an hour’s drive away – when I realised there was only going to be three of us in Dad’s 4WD (Dad, my uncle Geoff visiting from Australia & me), there would be room for my bike too. With a pick-up in the morning, bikepacking the day before & camping somewhere overnight before meeting at Clarks Junction seemed perfectly feasible.

This plan also meant that I’d finally get to ride to the end of Ramrock Road (a gravel road that goes through the hills west that I’d ridden down part-way a few times in the previous weeks) and see what was there. After an early lunch & farewelling Adele (off for seven weeks in Canada skiing & ice-climbing in the cold), I set off for Middlemarch (also one terminus of the Otago Central Rail Trail – which I hope to ride as a training ride shortly). A warm, but cloudy, day it was perfect for bikepacking on deserted gravel roads – plenty of hills to conquer and great views added to the enjoyment.

Looking back towards home.

Hills and clouds.

After about three hours, I was at the high point of the day – the biggest challenge having been avoiding the livestock all over the road & trying not to frighten large animals into trampling me as I whizzed downhill to the Nenthorn Valley (which was once a busy gold-mining town – one is advised not to venture too far off the beaten path lest a fall down an old mine shaft brings one to demise). One last steep climb up to Moonlight Road and my fifty-eight kilometres of gravel was over as I cruised down to the Taieri River and stopped for lolly cake (yum – haven’t had that for years!) in Middlemarch.

As it was only late-afternoon, I figured I had plenty of time to make it all the way to Clarks Junction before the pub kitchen closed (the pub is pretty much all there is at the Junction). So I set off along the valley floor, knowing that soon the road would give me much more climbing on the second half of the thirty kilometres. For a State Highway, the road was deserted and few cars passed me in the evening light. Hoorah – the pub was still open; I was the only patron as I devoured a lamb burger and set up my tent, for the first time in months, in the sparse and dated playground.

Monday dawned bright and sunny – I was baking in my tent before seven o’clock. I was pleased that the two days’ weather was this way around – I would not have wanted to bike almost one hundred kilometres under such fierce sun; likewise, heading up the Rock & Pillars would not have been very scenic on a day as cloudy as the one I rode.  As the group assembled – ten vehicles in total – Dad & Geoff arrived with my breakfast and I set about loading my bike & camping gear into the back of Dad’s Suzuki.

After a brief briefing, we all set off up the Old Dunstan Road.  Another deserted gravel road climbing up into the hills, I couldn’t but help think of the bikepacking possibilities of such roads – especially since I could ride from home & seemingly just keep going all over Central Otago.

After steadily climbing up on to a plateau, our first stop of the day was on the shores of the Loganburn Reservoir – where guide-for-the-day John regaled us with local farming and fishing anecdotes.

Photo &

Soon after, our little convoy left the road heading up on to the range on the 4WD track.   The route became more & more rugged as we climbed. With all the other vehicles having substantially more ground clearance & just generally being large 4WDs, the little Suzuki and Dad were working hard to clear and avoid various obstacles – mostly a lot of rocks and big ruts.  We occasionally stopped to regroup, look at the view or find the correct route.

The views opened up, naturally, as we climbed – the reservoir in the centre.

As we got above about a thousand metres above sea-level, the tussock grass got more sparse in places and low herbs and cushion plants became more predominant. At times looking west, we could even see The Remarkables range near Queenstown and Mt Aspiring near Wanaka.

Shortly before noon, we arrived at Big Hut (it was pretty big – there was even a large room seemingly entirely devoted to table-tennis) where we sat outside in the sun and out of the breeze eating our picnic lunch while admiring the view east (I tried to pick out landmarks on the route I followed the previous day) and watching a helicopter ferry the odd tourist up to look around.

There was still more climbing, bouncing and jolting around to be done after lunch as we went past Summit Rock. 4WDing sure is uncomfortable as we bounced around at such low speed. It may be a lot more effort, but I would have much preferred to be on bigger diameter wheels on my mountain-bike avoiding most of the obstacles and at least being able to anticipate the unavoidable ones.

We didn’t stay on the official route for much longer, instead turning off to travel through John’s large sheep farm on the western side of the range. By now Dad had had enough of the challenging route, so I drove down the hill on the better made farm tracks – thankfully I had to concentrate enough that I wasn’t constantly pining for a bike. I also forgot to take any more photos at this point, apologies. Once off the Rock & Pillars, we called in at the pub in the small village of Patearoa. Unfortunately, it was closed – but never mind, John just called the landlady & she came around and opened up just for us; ah, country NZ.

To finish the day, we traversed the northern foothills of the range through more of John’s farm to end up on north of Middlemarch on the highway. I was interested as we crossed the rail trail again near Daisybank, where I may just camp sometime soon. A great day exploring new country – but I’m not convinced sitting in the back of a 4WD, getting covered in dust and generally getting shaken to pieces is for my near-future.

The Christmas Letter 2014

It’s that time again when I try to remember where the year has gone and what I’ve been doing. Once again it’s been a rather varied year – with only a couple of lows in between numerous highs.

As the closure of the synthetic rubber factory where I worked for almost three years in the south of England loomed, the first half of the year was rather quiet on the travel front as I tried to save money for the approaching unemployment. While I was never too concerned with how I’d cope with losing my job (other adventures & parts of the world beckoned), it turned out to be very difficult seeing the demise of a plant that had been going for over fifty years and about one hundred and thirty people lose their jobs. The last few months after production ceased were particularly tedious – but I enjoyed throwing myself into my study of the Italian language (which I’d started learning at work at the end of 2013).

The exception to the difficult first seven months of the year with little happening (except riding bikes – I was still doing that, of course; the highlight was finally riding the South Downs Way) was May. Mum visited for almost six weeks and Adele was also over for three weeks of that. There were plenty of little trips here & there, as I tried to show Adele a bit of Europe and a holiday that didn’t include some sort of extreme adventure. Highlights were a long weekend with Mum in Barcelonafive days in Paris with both Mum & Adele; a rushed weekend showing London to Adeletaking Adele up to Scotland to visit a friend and do a little bit of hiking; and finally, a fantastic family wedding in Tuscany – with plenty of enjoyable time with extended family, some sightseeing, great food & wine and some hiking in the Chianti hills.

Tweed RunWe came across the Tweed Run in London. It was all rather odd, but looked a lot of fun.

Glasgow – I was pleasantly surprised to be so impressed.

Ben NevisOn top of the UK – most of the way up Ben Nevis was really nice, it was only a little bleak at the top.

San GimignanoBack in San Gimignano.

Work finally finished at the end of July – I promptly moved back to (the ever dependable and hospitable) cousin Trish’s in London the following day and took ten days preparing for three months of bikepacking (backpacking on a bike – minimal luggage carried compared to traditional cycle touring to enable more off-road riding) of west-Europe, with two months touring Italy being the main goal. I had hoped to do a big cycle tour of Europe in 2015 before moving back to NZ, but with work being what it was the timing changed.

In the end I only managed three weeks and two-thousand kilometres of touring, as I found the wet August and mud in Belgium was not much fun – after a week of that I was getting tired of solo-touring. Having said that, there were plenty of good times and highlights – including some of the people I met along the way; visiting a huge old ironworks in the Saarland (sad, I know); my birthday spent in Strasbourg; the Jura mountains (in France, near the Swiss border) and best of all: crossing the Alps into Italy over the same pass my grandfather rode over on his Euro cycle tour sixty-five years before me – that was a very special & memorable day.

All ready to leave.

I quite liked what I saw of Antwerp.

Another night, another forest, another wild-camp-site.

Strasbourg.

On the shores of Lake Geneva.

Pretty happy to be at Great St Bernard Pass – four hours of steady, but rarely difficult, climbing.

I’d organised (about a week beforehand) to stay a week working on a vineyard in the Aosta Valley (the most north-west province of Italy, in the Alps bordering both Monto Bianco & Monto Rosa) – in exchange for my labour, I would get food & board. I enjoyed the food (so much pasta, cheese, wine, grappa & all manner of things from the garden); the work (it was harvest season – so we mostly picked grapes and I learnt to make wine); trying to practice my Italian speaking; mountain scenery & lifestyle; hiking in the Alps; and most of all, the wonderful people I met and got to know. Although I left to see more of Italy, after a day by myself it seemed rather pointless leaving such good friends (& food) to have to worry where I was going to put my tent each night as the autumn weather deteriorated – so I returned to the vineyard. I ended up staying almost four weeks in total.

A day spent looking at Monto Bianco while we hiked.

If I ever got bored of the work in the vines, the scenery was always worth looking at and appreciating.

All of sudden October was free – so I hastily arranged for another visit to East Africa and close friends Adrian & Carmen, as it’s so much easier & cheaper to visit from London than NZ. Biking around Kilimanjaro was fantastic and we went up to Kenya to visit friends – the camping trip was unusual. I’m still not sure what scared me more – camping with ten children under the age of five or the injured lion we had resident in our campsite for much of the weekend.

Our lion friend for the weekend.

Back in England for November, it was a mixture of winter cycle touring saying goodbye to friends & family in the south & south-west and trying to pack my life up to move back to NZ. It was great to see so many people that have been a big part of my life for the last five or so years, sad to say goodbye of course.

As of December, I’m back in NZ – hopefully for good. For now, I’m enjoying the sudden change from northern winter to southern summer (if you think twenty-four hours in a plane counts as sudden), being with family – especially for Christmas, getting plenty of riding in (it’s easily been my biggest year on a bike ever – approaching 7000 km on my mountain-bikes [of which, I now only have one left – the big heavy touring one]), and generally reacquainting myself with life in NZ.

I’ll slowly start looking for a job in the new year, hoping to find one that means I can live in a large town/small city that has easy access to good mountain-biking – I think then there would be a chance I may be able stay still for a while and not spend so much time and money on travelling…

Thanks to all that were along for the ride (literal or figurative) this year – whether providing food, a bed, travel opportunities, quality mountain-bike rides or simply time. Merry Christmas & a great 2015 to all.

Wanaka weekend

With the possibility of quite a few rides, I was easily persuaded to join Adele, her boyfriend James and another couple of their friends for a weekend camping near Wanaka – this being in the beautiful Southern Lakes area of the South Island. Unfortunately, the weather didn’t particularly play nice for the majority of the weekend – but it wasn’t so nasty that I didn’t manage five rides, even if they were on the short end of the scale.

First up, we stopped off en route in Alexandra to meet Garry so that Adele could have a bit of Canadian canoe practice for the upcoming adventure race. As I’ve been shuttled so many times in a car for mountain-bike rides, I was happy to play shuttle driver. In between dropping them off up the Clutha River near Clyde and picking them up downstream in Alex., I managed to get in a quick hour long ride up & back down the Anniversary track beside the same river. It was strange to have a time limit on a ride and quite fun to actually have to push the pace consistently to make sure I got there and back to meet them by the three-thirty deadline (which I did).

After much talking of gear for the adventure race, paddling techniques (there is also kayaking in the race), more of the delicious Christmas cake (from last weekend’s ride) and cups of tea we left Garry’s house for Wanaka. As we arrived much earlier than the others, we got in an evening lap of Dean’s Bank (a very nice little ten kilometre MTB track on the edge of the Clutha River just as it drains Lake Wanaka) before heading into town for dinner & last-minute camping supplies. Somehow my tent got up while it was still dry, about the time the others (Jacqui & Dan, with James) arrived the rain set in for the night. Late to bed, a couple of hours of riding obviously wasn’t enough to wear me out – I slept horribly.

I think we had the best of the weather on Saturday as we sat eating our bacon & eggs before all of us headed across the road to Dean’s Bank again. Very much the gooseberry with two couples, I had no qualms in leaving everyone to go their own pace while I had a bit of fun seeing how quickly I could get around the very enjoyable loop. Not content with just waiting for the others, I got in another two-thirds of a lap as the rain tried to start again. Lunch was by the lake (Wanaka) as we contemplated the grey clouds in the distance where we wanted to ride. In time, we resolved not to let the weather put us off and drove up to West Wanaka to start the ride to Minaret Burn.

Setting off near the lake, after having crossed the Matukituki River, there was one good steep climb to get our hearts going as we climbed above the water to what I’m sure are very nice views on a sunny day. Despite the gloom and rain, it was still beautiful country with rugged hills still displaying many different shades. Jacqui & Dan, somewhat sensibly, decided riding into rain and a stiff breeze wasn’t really for them and turned around. Less sensibly, Adele, James & I continued. Things leveled out a bit after the five-kilometre mark; but as we could see the trail switchbacking up a very steep & large hill and the rain showed no signs of easing I was informed we would be turning back before said hill. We’d been getting our feet even wetter than the rest of our clothes already were crossing streams, so when we got to a swollen river it was easy to turn around and avoid the swift, high water.

I tried to get a photo in the rain – not sure it was worth the effort; Wanaka township is down the far end of the lake, somewhere.

Even after the previous weekend’s epic, but equally fantastic, ride – Adele had not been put off asking Garry to organise another training ride. This time obviously we were looking in the Wanaka area for a big back-country outing. The DoC (Department of Conservation) office wasn’t particularly helpful, but Garry brought along a couple of other suckers-for-punishment. One of them, Phil, turned out to be even madder at choosing routes into the hills than Garry (I remember the words “it was easy in a four-wheel drive”). Starting near Lake Hawea, we pretty much climbed solidly for nine kilometres at an average of ten percent gradient. The surface was reasonable – I only had to walk about a hundred metres just after the gradient really kicked up as we left the valley floor and all the stream crossings.

With quite a bit of cloud around and the valley being quite close, the views weren’t nearly as expansive as last week – but it was a steep-sided dramatic valley we were slowly climbing out of. Phil was a fount of information about the area as he had been involved in the tenure review of this land in the last few years (a lot of high country in NZ is crown-owned, but given over to long-term leaseholders – every so often [not actually that often] this comes up for review with respect to conservation, land-use for farming, public access & so on).

Once we reached the conservation park (which had been handed over to DoC guardianship after the last tenure review) the trail quickly changed from the rough farm track to benched trail designed for mountain-biking and walking and the gradient eased off a bit. The changeable weather continued to do so and we were kept guessing as to what would happen. After more steepness on farm trail, as we approached a saddle the wind and rain was really blowing across. We sheltered from the wind to have lunch number two and tried to keep warm as the rain fell. Halfway through my sandwich, the rain stopped and my jacket started to dry out. When it was put to the group as to what we should do with respect to carrying on or not in the poor weather (the clouds were really blowing up & over the ridge), all was silent until I finally stated I was happy to keep riding – never a good idea for everyone else to stay quiet for so long.

With a bit more climbing to see what was around the next corner and how the different those clouds might look, we set-off. Of course, it wasn’t just one more corner we rounded – there were several as the view constantly changed and the weather abated for us slightly. At about the twelve kilometre mark, we could see the ridge track stretching off in the distance and the weather still looking rather poor – we all agreed it was time to turn around and meet our deadline to be back at the cars by four o’clock.

That’s what the clouds looked like around the corner, in case you were wondering.

The valley we climbed out of – trail on left hand side of photo, thankfully.

The descent surface was not nearly as gnarly as that which we ended last week’s ride on, but with all that climbing we’d done – it was great fun and fast. Except as the weather was a bit brighter, I kept stopping to take photos & wait for the others. For historical reasons, I’m told, we ditched the bikes briefly and walked a short distance to a peak to look over the plains and lakes below and marvel at how great the view must on a clear day.

We didn’t ride down there.

As we got off the ridge proper, the sun came out and it warmed up.

We all made it down in one piece, I had a complete blast on the downhill again (I really must get a job so I can justify getting a bike more suited to such things) and while not nearly as memorable in distance or views as the previous week’s Sunday ride it was an outing thoroughly enjoyable with good riding buddies. And most everything was loaded in or on the vehicles before the heavens opened again.

Buster Diggings – Johnstones Creek Track epic

One of Adele’s teammates for the upcoming adventure race, Garry, thought that a good training MTB ride for Adele would be the Buster Diggings & Johnstones Creek Track combo. Naturally, I thought this was a great idea as Central Otago is beautiful and riding bikes is great. It’s not a well-known trail, not even making it into the NZ MTB trail bible (Classic NZ MTB Rides), so we were a little taken aback as we checked it out the night before. Over two and a half thousand metres of climbing in sixty kilometres?! It looked like it would be a long day – especially as Adele has not spent much time riding recently.

Consequently, it was an early start for the eighty minute drive to Naesby (which I am assured has great MTB trails in the forest – but I’ve not ridden there, yet) to meet Garry. Having arranged a car shuttle we left town & managed to drive a few kilometres up the Mt Buster road before setting off on our bikes – Adele taking her brand new one for its first outing. It was a glorious day and the first few kilometres along the undulating gravel road were pleasant riding. Before long we were entering the Oteake Conservation Park and the first of three tough climbs began. Progress slowed markedly as it took over an hour to go 3.5 km and climb almost 600 m! The surface was pretty good (all of the day was spent on double-track/4WD track), with just one particularly rocky & loose section causing me to push my bike for a hundred or so metres. I had plenty of time to take photos while I waited, so here are a few of typical Central Otago hills & plains – the hills invariably covered in long tussock (a type of grass found in the high country around NZ).

Entering the conservation park, looking ahead to the first big climb of the day.

Part-way up, looking south over Central Otago.

In that pick-up are the only people we saw all day – we were out for over ten hours and only heard birds, streams flowing & the breeze (apart from any sound we made obviously). It’s quite remote up there.

Eventually the hill plateaued and we got some respite. We took a small side trail to look at Buster Diggings – the result of the highest gold mining ever undertaken in NZ at 1200 m above sea level (Otago had quite a gold rush in the nineteenth century).

The results of alluvial mining, and Mt Buster in the background.

A lot of our hard work was undone as we plunged off the plateau down to the head waters of the Otematata River below.

After the quick descent, we followed the small river for about fifteen kilometres. Often we had to cross the river – I lost count of the number of river crossings we made, probably up around twenty. All except three were rideable with the current level of water in the river. Before another climb started, we stopped at Tailings Hut for a bit of lunch. Somehow twenty-six kilometres had taken four hours – I think we deserved some food and a bit of rest.

A typical NZ back-country hut – and Adele’s brand new bike no longer so clean & immaculate.

From the river, it was another steep climb around the end of the ridge – but this was much shorter before plunging to the river for another crossing. Unfortunately, at the high point in this section we could look across the valley and see what was to come.

All the downhills of the day were great, and not just because they were such welcome relief.

Yes, another opportunity to get one’s feet wet – by this point Adele was quite soaked due to a previous unplanned dip further up the river.

That was a small part of what was to come.

This was the most brutal climb of the day – six hundred metres up in only five kilometres along. The first half was noticeably steeper than the second, but the surface was very good and it was all rideable for me. With the sun beating down, it was getting hotter as the we were sheltered from the wind. Regrouping on the next plateau, the riding got easier – but was still generally climbing.

Waiting on the plateau amongst the tussock.

Eventually we came across the second hut of the day – the Ida Railway hut. Originally down on the railway that was converted to the famous Otago Central Rail Trail, the old station was somewhat unbelievably hauled up the route we had just ridden some decades ago for use as a musterers’ hut. I was pretty thrilled when Garry pulled a large slab of Christmas cake from his pack (he was wearing the large, for mountain-biking, pack that seems to be standard equipment for their team in the adventure race). It was good cake and excellent to be sitting out in the sun in the wilderness with great company enjoying it as the stream babbled close by – especially sharing a big bike adventure with my sister.

The climbing reared up a bit more across the plateau as we got to our highest point so far that day – about 1550 m. Across the plateau we could also look north to the Southern Alps and pick out Mt Cook (NZ’s highest mountain) easily.

Looking back across a small part of the plateau we’d ridden across. For perspective – if you look very closely you can just see Adele rounding the corner at the right of the shot.

Depending on whether one was climbing or descending (for me, at least), unfortunately & then fortunately (respectively) the trail condition got a lot poorer from this point on. The Canterbury greywacke stone used to pave the route suddenly became much larger, looser and more sharply edged. As I alluded to above – this was fantastic on the next steep plunge as the riding became much more technical and thrilling.

But after that steep plunge, we were left looking at this:

About a quarter of the last climb of the day…

While not the toughest, biggest or longest climb of the day – due to the poor surface it was definitely the most technically challenging. Starting off at the bottom I was starting to feel a little tired, but from somewhere found some energy and managed to ride all but about a hundred metres when it just got too loose & tricky. Whether going up or down on the chunky loose rocks, I found it much easier to carry a bit more speed than normal to avoid getting bogged down in the greywacke.

Finally we were at the magic point of no-more-climbing, looking out across Central Otago again. All that hard work in the sun was about to be rewarded by a glorious, fast descent dropping 800 m in five kilometres. That was even steeper than what we had climbed – I would not recommend riding this route in the opposite direction considering the surface at the west end. I know the other two didn’t really enjoy this rather technical, steep downhill (Garry had been preparing us all day to be disappointed with it after all the work taken to get there) – but I was grinning all the way down. So many big rocks moving all over the place, plenty of water bars to jump off and a grand view.

You can just see the trail snaking its way down from the right of the Hawkdun Range.

With a few more miles to ride down on a gravel road to where Garry’s car was waiting for us, there was plenty of time to savour the biggest, hardest and most-epic day mountain-biking I’ve had in ages. If even obscure trails like this that I’ve never heard of are so good, that bodes well for the rest that this country has to offer – perhaps I’ll be able to stay, now I just have to find a job sometime.

Biking to go places, going places to bike.