Amanda was pretty much packed up by the time I woke, was I that fast asleep? I hurriedly got up, stuffed things on my bike and tried to catch up. Climbing the mild side of the Porika Track was a lot drier than when I went over in the other direction early-October, so it all seemed much easier. Completing most of the climb with Amanda, I was having far too much fun on the steep, rocky descent to wait around. Brakes squealing destroyed any early morning peace and right at Lake Rotoroa it was good to catch up with Geof and Ken. Amanda caught up while I filled water bottles and the ride over the Braeburn, down the Mangles Valley and into Murchison was enjoyable in its companionship as we got into our work for the day.
The excellent Rivers Cafe in town was well-frequented by fellow riders and I enjoyed a big breakfast and pot of tea. A decent break did me good and the ride up the Matakitaki before the climb to the always brilliant Maruia Saddle flew by, much of the latter half bouncing between passing and being passed by Amanda, Brian, Matt and Olly.
Stopping for snacks, sunscreening and admiring the Matatitaki.
A short section of highway lead us to the Dredgeville farm section. Route-finding through the various grades of tracks wasn’t too bad, but progress was slowed a little as the afternoon warmed. Warnings of large bogs used for four-wheel driving seemed to be overstated – there was one that needed wading through, but there was a river crossing shortly after to rinse the mud off. By now, the small group had reduced to just the company of Olly and Matt – little did I know we’d be in close proximity for the next week. A late-lunch was had at the curiosity that is the Springs Junction cafe; to their credit they didn’t mind us smelly bikepackers walking around in bare feet as our soaked socks and shoes tried to catch some rays.
The highway over Lewis Saddle was pleasantly quiet and the climb got done as I enjoyed the forested surrounds.
I made good time to Boyle River and was keen to see what I’d put in the box I’d sent weeks before to the food drop. Hopefully enough to get me the 246 km to the resupply at Methven; with significant hike-a-bike, I expected it to take about two and a half days. Deploying my stuffable backpack for the first time, the three kilograms of food found places easily enough on my bike and back. There was a collection of food that riders in front had left behind, of that only a big mixture of salted pretzels and honey & mustard bagel bits (the only thing I have to compare whatever they actually were to) appealed – I stashed a lot. (Salted pretzels became a go-to snack for the rest of the ride, I went through bags of the things.) Just as I was about to leave, the group from Maruia Saddle reassembled – nice to see some other riders again briefly.
Back on the highway for ten kilometres I was feeling pretty good – not fast, but good. It was with both excitement and a little trepidation that I left the seal for the Hope-Kiwi track. For me, this was where the familiar was left behind and everything until Tekapo (450 km, about four days away) would be new to me. Not only that, it was where the big country and hike-a-bike sections started. With just over two hours of daylight left, I thought the ten kilometres to Hope Halfway Hut would be a good finish to the day. Snacking briefly at Windy Point, I was ready to get into it.
First, a wire bridge that puts the infamous Arataki bridge to shame.
This one was long!
The usual technique of upending the bike and shunting it forward didn’t work. In the end I resorted to pushing bike forward on its wheels and at every pair of uprights, stopping and manoeuvring both bars and pedals as they struck the sides. A slow, tiring process – and that didn’t account for simply getting on and off the bridge.
The hiking trail was littered with tree-fall which required significant dismounting and manhandling of my bike. Short stretches were rideable and I was loving it, unsure why I had so much energy; for some reason I felt like I was flying through there. Nevermind that the nine kilometres to the hut took over two hours, I was having a blast.
Some short sections of blissful beech forest riding.
As the gloom gathered in the forest, I caught up to Dulkara and Andrew. This was surprising, they’d been well ahead of me much of the day. Maybe a bit more sleep helped? I probably should have carried on at my own pace and made the hut in what light remained, but I was more than happy to have some company and chat. Turned out I had Dulkara to thank for those tasty snacks out of the Boyle River trailer – really must find out just what that mixture was, it helped so much over the tough two days to come.
We made the hut at half-nine, thoroughly disturbing two unfortunate hikers as we ate and settled into the hut. Matt and Olly arrived half an hour later to fill the bunks; maybe more so, I think someone slept on the floor. Not such a great sleep that night in a full hut, but I was pleased to have the prologue to the main guts of the course done without fuss in about the time I expected (maybe a little faster) and eagerly awaited what I would find next.
