Meeting another rider at ten, we were up and away markedly earlier. Up Guffies Creek promised nine water crossings, I was pleased they were all dry-feet rideable as the sun hadn’t quite made it to the valley floor yet. Over the last one and the track reared steeply for the climb to Buster Diggings. Either well rested, or finally getting a bit stronger again, or both, I was pleased to ride the whole thing and pottered on looking at Long Spur – scheming more rides again.

Back down to the track along Guffies Creek.

The morning sun on the diggings (alluvial gold mining from 150-odd years ago, I’ve heard the highest gold mining site in NZ) was striking. I had a bit of time to wander, and then clamber

Mt Kyeburn on left, soon…

A short distance along our trail is Buster Hut. We could have easily made it here the previous afternoon, but it is tiny (someone would have been on the floor, blocking the doorway) and Tailings Hut was nice. That is, until we were woken by bogans 4WDing in at eleven o’clock; they did apologise for waking us, and then proceeded to talk loudly for hours. Earplugs did at least mean I missed the rich colour of the language.

Over the Maniototo to the Rock and Pillar Range. Naseby, one of my current homes, in those pines right.

Across more diggings to yesterday’s big descent to the Otematata and the Southern Alps in the background.

Starting our ascent of Mt Kyeburn quickly opened up more views and tracks to ponder. Memories of skinning up here and hurtling back down (skiing down a 4WD track doesn’t give many opportunities to turn, may as well just pin it – incredible fun) and a day-ride a few summers ago. I remembered riding the whole climb relatively unloaded, so I was pleased I could clear it while loaded.

It wasn’t straightforward.

Coastal cloud. Hopefully that would burn off by the time we went over the pass.

From the top of the track.

Andy’s photo.

Time was a bit tight for our rendezvous, but I was adamant I was clambering the final little section to the summit. I think it was worth it.

Down to the Kye Burn, Danseys Pass road across the centre, our track down coming in from the left.

I think we were all pleased we got to the top. Another of Andy’s.

Time to drop eight hundred metres in no time. A complete screamer of a descent. I’m surprised I even got this photo. Again, I refer you to Andy’s excellent record of me having too much fun on a rigid, loaded bike.

I guess that’s the bottom and I can take another photo.

A short grovel and we were on the road rolling five kilometres to the pub. Unfathomably, it was closed late on a Saturday morning in the height of holiday season. Disappointing, I was looking forward to a big brunch. We met Rob, and best-sister made it from Naseby too. Thankfully with a whole tray of freshly baked brownie (which seems to be the stuff of legend, according to Andy, who was most pleased to see this trail angel when coming off the Hawkduns dry back in TTW) and some delicious Otago summer fruit. Unashamedly, we devoured it all. Goodbyes said, I’d be back in Naseby late afternoon, we were off up the pass – fuelled by brownie. Thanks Adele.

Pass crested, a short whizz downhill to this which I’d often wondered about:

Andy had somehow managed arrange access for us through about twenty kilometres of private farmland.

Looks like Rob joined us for the flattest part of the trip! Trying to find the correct track to follow the river.

The ride out was engaging and I really liked it. Dusty farm track with lots of little climbs, there was plenty of grass and the cattle looked really healthy – we got a good look at them as it took ages to get them off the track in front of us.

There was even a wee gorge to rise above.

Out of the farm, and it was twenty kilometres of flat back to our cars. Andy had done such a good job of organising the weather on this trip that even the most tedious section of the Alps2Ocean had a slight tailwind. Into town and straight to get a cone of ice cream and marvel at a fantastic four days of riding. I’ve not had many better – absolutely loved it, can’t believe all that we saw in such a small loop (ninety kilometres across) so close to home. Thanks to Andy for organising, Rachel for thinking to invite me along and both for being such excellent company. When’s the next one?

Offered a cooked breakfast the previous night, naturally I didn’t hesitate. Only the time remained to be settled. Used to starting by seven, that was my pick – but eight seemed much more amenable for tired riders and the kitchen. It was a good call as we were all pretty exhausted from the previous two days and we’d broken the back of the course – two-thirds done in less than half the time available. We determined to have a shorter day to enjoy our time up on the Oteake and a stay in one of its many huts.

This is the way to start another day of excellent riding, and pushing.

Well, that didn’t last long. Note Andy’s package of cold toast sandwiches for lunch (there was no shop); the manager was gobsmacked (a priceless expression) and probably despaired for us, we were subsequently offered and took the last two, substantial, pieces of bacon and egg pie from the chiller.

Finally we rolled out at nine, which was a feat in itself with that breakfast. Forty minutes of easy gravel to a brief highway section gave ample chance to look back on the previous day’s hills and further piece the geography puzzle together.

Looking considerably nicer up there than what we dropped out of fourteen hours before.

On Home Hills Run Rd again, for a change heading into the Hawkduns and the Oteake Conservation Area.

More TTW stories to be shared – after days above 30ºC with a lot of climbing in the sun: I came off that in the dark, got water from the water race and slept in the only stand of trees around; Andy spent the night well back along the range and was so desperate for water the next morning that bottles were filled from a puddle – that promptly blocked his bottle nozzle (ick); Rachel spent a cramped night in tiny Wire Yards Hut with no water and many other racers. I’d also ridden what we would ride this day, in the reverse direction, on a Godzone training ride of best-sister’s just after returning from the UK seven years before – that was a big day then. I was very much looking forward to spending an easier day further exploring the area.

Filling up at the water race, we steeled ourselves for the loose and rocky track that would involve seven hundred metres of pushing.

Hmmm, didn’t know that – no corresponding sign if going in opposite direction.

Quickly gaining altitude, and walking, amongst the tussocks. Yesterday’s Dunstan Range in background, St Bathans Range coming in from the right.

Mt Ida and Little Mt Ida – landmarks I’m used to seeing from the other side (Naseby).

Down Hills Creek to the Manuherikia Valley.

Rocks getting chunkier, but altogether the track was in the best condition I’d seen it – most of the ruts filled in and not nearly as loose as usual.

With a light breeze from the south, it was still warming up. I found a nice, settled puddle to wet my headwear in – but not to drink out of.

Every hundred metres of ascent was marked, a good excuse to turn and take in the view – and have another snack.

Contrary to my memory of it being steep all the way down, there were parts that were actually ridable. Small parts admittedly, but it was nice to get back on the bike briefly.

Much more fun on the way down!

Two hours later we gained the summit, but didn’t stick around as we hunted for somewhere sheltered for lunch and a rest.

North along the Hawkduns, with the Benmore Range on the other side of the Waitaki (which we’d ridden around the bottom of two days earlier) and the Alps beyond – Mt Cook visible behind Benmore Peak.

Turning onto the notorious Walking Spur track, the start of the descent (before the sudden and cruel grovel back up) let me open things up a bit before finding a big rock to lunch behind with views across to the Alps.

Yay, Walking Spur! Cue eye roll.

Clear Stream, the end of which we crossed on TTW21 as it empties into the Otematata.

At least some of the spur was rideable.

Andy founded his grungy puddle, we stopped and there was no way I was drinking from that – he must have been desperate!

Not much to look at, even less to drink.

Back on the plateau, we turned off last year’s TTW course east. A glorious day, we revelled in the vastness of the top and marvelled at the sudden deep gullies – which were thankfully avoided.

Rachel returns to Wire Yards Hut.

Andy taking in the vastness, so close to towns, but so removed – we saw one moto rider at the base of the climb, and no one else all day.

A note in the hut book indicated a water source two hundred metres down the track; Rachel was most put out to find it was a good one and she’d been so close, and so thirsty on TTW. A long gradual downhill continued, which was a pleasant change, before reaching the railway station.

That’s right, there’s a railway station up here! It’s now a DOC hut, in which I’d love to stay – alas, much too early (40 km in for the day). Surely it must have been after quite a few beers one night that it was decided to drag the old Ida Valley Railway Station building up here with two bulldozers! Yea, here it is. This year’s TTW route comes this way, it would be a great place to stay.

Outside the station/hut, so much more water up here on this year’s route – a nice pool to dip in here too.

Another hundred metre climb that’s barely a blip on the elevation chart to the last time we’d get above 1000 m that day. I insisted on the short side trip to check out another hut – Chimney Creek Hut, where the eponymous creek is but a trickle.

Very similar to Wire Yards Hut, less of a view and less exposure.

A rather flat section as we crested the last hill. Getting difficult to work out where exactly we came from.

Starting shallow, the five hundred metre drop averaged out at ten percent – so it got a lot steeper. A good track with plenty of water bars, it was exceedingly fast and exhilarating. I had to keep on stopping though as the view constantly changed – more valleys, and the mountains to the east got a lot bigger and more pointed. What’s more, there were tracks all over the place – more adventures to be had and exploring to do!

Hut Creek, there’s a hut over there, funnily enough, which is called – wait for it – Hut Creek Hut. Brilliant!

One thing about stopping so often was that Andy got in front many times to take some of his video of our trip. This meant I could repeatedly tear past him, and probably give Rachel pause with the noise of rocks hurtling around, and unusually be captured having a blast. I was more than impressed at how quickly Andy was able to compile a simple film that captures our trip in such a way that all my words here simply can’t. I also like it as it goes some way to show just why I love this form of travel and how much joy and excitement I get from riding bikes in this way – especially if I can safely get some air! I won’t go so far as to say I was admonished for getting a little bit of air on a loaded, rigid bike – but it was noted, to equal parts embarrassment and delight. (Which reminds me, Andy’s footage from our end of the field features in Rob’s film, which does a good job of capturing the first TTW – if you’re interested at all in what this race was about, or what the experience was like, it’s worth it.

Tracks galore! None of which we’d take, save that zig and zag just beyond the tussocks, rising from the upper Otematata River.

About to climb from the river – after soaking our feet right at the end of the day.

Those switchbacks done, it was a nice roll down to Tailings hut – just after five o’clock! A short day, but so packed it felt much more than fifty-six kilometres. Plenty of time for a wash in Guffies Creek, much tea and a couple of dinners. Another equal-favourite day to go with the other two so far!

History, huh.

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.