A lovely night’s sleep in my tent, twas a leisurely eight o’clock start – at least for me, others seemed to be in more of a rush still. Perhaps my blood had recovered somewhat, as it was nice to be able to at least keep up with some for a bit of company as we headed for Borland Pass – about a thousand metres of climbing first up.

Gentle shaded valley floor climbing from the lake got the legs warmed up before we started heading up in earnest. Again, plenty of new terrain to look at and wonder about all the forest, peaks and valleys.

Up there! About the time the climbing really started.

The small lakes beside the Grebe Valley easily caught the eye on the ascent.

Stopping at an actual lookout, half of the climb done.

Taking in the view, always, we struggled to fathom just what the sign was telling us – of a long ago landslide that displaced twenty-seven cubic kilometres of the mountain range! Just around the corner we finally found Debbie waiting at what she would soon find out, to her chagrin, was a false summit.

At the turnoff to a bivy (small shelter), I was up for a walk down to see what was there. Partly for the walk, but mostly to try and instil touring-mode into our trip. I think I was successful as Andy and Rachel tagged along. So successful, Andy didn’t even make it to the bivy – preferring to luxuriate lying in the warm sun.

Just a few switchbacks to go…

Borland Pass conquered well before noon, we found a lot of friendly, local day-trippers (in motor vehicles) to yarn to before the glorious descent. Fifteen kilometres of a gentle gradient all the way to Borland Lodge. Much fun cruising down there, wonderfully cool air too.

Out past Monowai on gravel roads was flat easy going, with just a few washboards. Just before the highway Scott was waiting, with welcome refreshments, to meet Debbie and start the long drive the length of the island for the return to work. Rachel, Andy and I continued up the highway with a gentle southerly push us up the, apparently, notorious Blackmount hill; it wasn’t too bad in those conditions, but still I lagged a bit.

Takitimu Mountains from the highway riding; with little traffic it was most pleasant.

About halfway back to town, up a small rise I tired of being so slow and conjured up a smidgeon of energy from somewhere (probably all in my head) to sprint (or as close as I ever get on an overloaded, or any, bike) and take off up the road for a bit – but soon waiting in the shade at the next junction. Back into Manapouri village a day after my first visit in almost thirty years, we were well pleased to find the cafe still open. All talk of pushing onto Mavora Lakes (another four or so hours) was absent as we opted for the nice cycle trail beside the Waiau River to roll into Te Anau just before seven.

Andy found us rooms in a ginormous, but mostly deserted, motor camp before we hit the grocery store to prepare our own three course dinner sitting out in the warm summer evening. An excellent relaxed end to another fantastic day, much less effort in this one – but plenty to whet the appetite for more Southland and Fiordland exploring.