The wrong end...

Well the last few days I've spent in Christchurch, getting over the saddle soreness and waiting for the rivers to subside from the floods. Today the conditions were almost perfect for salmon fishing so John (who has renamed himself the 'Master' since his recent lucky catch) and I went down to the 'Banana Hole' on the Waimak. Having put in the hours I was due my reward and hey presto, around 8 O’clock I hooked a prime salmon, fresh in the river. I was elated when it ran downstream and heard the cries of 'jeeze she's a whopper' from the guy fishing next to me. I was deflated when he shouted out 'but hooked by the tail mate'. Now there are certain standards to be had in salmon fishing, and one is that you can't keep a fish that's foul hooked. Actually it is a punishable offence, so reluctantly I put the fish back and cast my lure again. I say reluctantly, because it seems to my way of thinking almost a crime to put a magnificent creature like this through such stress for no purpose. Some people's purpose is that of 'sport'. They catch and release all their fish, but I can't help but feel that this is cruel. I suppose it is no less cruel to kill the fish, but if you eat fish, you have to accept that somewhere down the line an animal has been through a similar and usually much worse fate than this. I consider it far preferable to catch and kill a wild animal myself, knowing that it has led a natural and free existence, rather than leaving it to the vagaries of the food processing industry.

Anyway, none of this changes the fact that I caught a very reasonable meal which would have fed us for a week…… then discarded it!

And it rained...

...and rained and rained again!

I was up early and on the bus just in time for the first spots of rain to start hitting the windscreen. I was travelling nearly half the length of the country and had thought that things might cheer up a bit once over the Lewes Pass and on to the usually drier east coast, well it just continued, steadily and persistently. I rode the final 6km back to Avoca Valley and was drenched. The next few days I'd intended to spend fishing the rivers before getting back up to the farm, but they would be in flood, one thing you can't change in New Zealand is the weather which remains...changeable!

Onwards to Nelson...

Well after a very relaxing couple of days in the Riwaka valley I headed off to Nelson. I'd made quite a poor job of estimating distances and time, and though I'd got up here fairly easily in just a few days cycling, they had been quite long days and I hadn't really realized that going over the top to the Sounds and then down the east coast would be another 8 or 900km or so! The Sounds would have to wait, I booked a ticket on the Southern Link bus which can get my bike in the huge luggage hold and get me back to Christchurch for Saturday afternoon.

The actual ride down from Motueka to Nelson was quite alright, I had envisaged lots of fruit and logging trucks along that main road, but in general it was fine. At Richmond through to Stoke the road is lined by industrial units and I was not looking forward to the last 15km into town. It turned out to be a great ride, the road gave way to a tree lined cycle path built from the old-train track which took me hassle free almost into the city centre. I checked into a city centre backpackers, (one I had stayed at 18 years ago) and tuned into the weather forecast: Southerly>Nor'westerly>Southerly - that's cold rain>warm rain in the high country > then more cold rain!

Take me to the River...Again!

Well about 10 km up the road form Motueka is the beautiful Riwaka valley. Alex, a long standing friend of Steve has a property out there so I made the short journey up to say hello. The place itself is set in about 4 acres of beautiful native bush, with the Riwaka river flowing right through it. Alex has converted some of the outbuildings into some peaceful and relaxing holiday accommodation http://www.foleyscreek.co.nz/ I camped a few yards from the river and spent a blissful afternoon snoozing to the sound of the cicadas, the birds and the river babbling by.

Easy Rider...

Well I still wasn’t feeling 100% despite the day off, but I looked at the map and figured I could get about half way to Motueka then camp somewhere. Following the river was going to be easy! And so it proved to be, the day was almost entirely downhill and with a stiff tail wind, the ride could only be described as ‘a bit of a breeze!’ I was soon whizzing along at breakneck speeds, eating up the kilometres with hardly any effort at all.

It wasn’t long however, before my rhythm was interrupted by the sound of a police siren close behind… very close behind…. gosh had I really been going that fast? I’m sure there was a 100kmh limit on this stretch? It turns out I was being pulled over, not for speeding, but for failing to display my helmet in a correct manner. Yes apparently the cycle helmet has to be displayed on top of the head, not the back of the bicycle rack, it’s the law! I was also reliably informed by the very nice officer that failure to comply with this ‘helmet display law’ can result in a fine of $55. Cunningly I used the old ‘ I’m only here on holiday’ ruse, and any talk of fines was soon forgotten in favour of a detailed inquiry of the nature of my bike trip and how did I like the country…? blah blah blah!

New helmet display device in operation.

So without much effort at all I found myself cruising into downtown Motuake. I was last here 18 years ago when it was dubbed the ‘murder capital’ of New Zealand. This is one of the major fruit growing regions in New Zealand, so itinerant fruit pickers gather here during the harvesting season and I guess the hard drinking culture and their natural exuberance must have got out of hand that year resulting in two murders. There’s still a bit of a hushed excitement about the place. I checked into The White Elephant hostel, where I stayed last time, it seemed to have grown bigger and busier, much like the town.

The White Elephant backpackers hostel

Bimble down the lake...

Well I awoke with a bit of a soar throat and cough this morning, nothing like the full blown 'man flu' Steve had developed back in Christchurch, however, I decided to have a day off from cycling, give my body a rest and take a gentle bimble down the side of the lake.

It was actually nice to get back into the unspoilt bush. Travelling with a road bike makes it difficult to go anywhere a car can't go. I've been pulling off the road to find campsites and lunch spots, but it's always been within easy reach of a road and this usually means coming across the general detritus that some people who drive, seem unable to pack up into their cars and take home. I've noticed that it's very unusual to find any litter further than a 20 minute or so walk down a trail, so it was nice today to get back into the unspoilt bush even if it were only 4 or 5 miles.

Things weren't without their nuisances though, the wind had dropped a bit and the sandflies were out in abundance! Not only that, but I was just peaceably minding my own business when unbeknown to me a wasp crawled into my shirt and did what most wasps will do when cornered in a tight spot, while I did what most people do......... yelped in pain and swore a lot!

Riding the Buller Gorge

This morning the predicted rain actually did arrive, can't wait till the Ide's of March, might see'm sometime around September! Anyway, it was so light and the temperature so warm that I decided to get going. The route followed the Buller Gorge, one of the biggest rivers in New Zealand, though up this high it was in a fairly mellow mood however the road did rock and roll up and down a bit. I arrived at St Arnaud at the head of Lake Rotoiti, knowing I'd had a ride, and checked into a backpackers hostel there. I then walked down to the lake to fish for a while and with an eye on consistency I caught the usual zilch...zero...nothing!

I also took this opportunity to offer myself as a human sacrifice to all the sandflies in the area. Figuring this would give me good karma should I actually come back as a sandfly, I was disappointed so few of them took me up on my offer!

Well turned out nice again!

Doom and Gloom...

Yesterday a guy at the pass gave me a rather doom and gloom forecast of raging northerlies, laden with rain lashing the area and strongly advised me to 'hole up' for a day or two at Springs Junction. Well an easy 18km coast down the pass found me eating breakfast at the roadhouse there. No offence to Springs Junction residents, but it wasn't long before I decided to take my chances with the 'raging northerly'

There was in fact a bit of a stiff wind heading my way, but none of the much heralded rain. I would put it somewhere between an inconvenience and a pain, but for the most part the general descent of today's route cancelled out the effects of the headwind. Still with the prophet of doom's voice ringing in my ears, I ploughed on 100k up the road to Murcheson and the comfort of the Commercial Hotel.

Keeping it all clean and tidy!

So today I climbed up to Lewis pass. Not much of a climb really at 863m, but quite frustrating as it was one of those rollercoasters: up 2km down one up three etc. Still the weather was cool, but those pesky sandflies are on you as soon as you stop. In fact they can even get you whilst poodling up hill on the 'granny' gear. The granny gear for non cyclists, is the smallest chainring, with the lowest gear a bike has to offer. I've no idea why it's not referred to as the 'slightly overweight, out of condition, middle age man' gear, which would be much more pertinent in my case, but it's not!

Anyway, camp tonight was very pleasant. A nice little clearing tucked away in some native woodland close to the pass. Also very pleasant was the diminished amount of pesky sandflies up here. I shared my instant mash and tuna with a small yellow breasted bird. Quite amazingly it seemed to be almost omnipresent! Every time I turned around, there it was tidying up my camp site: sifting through the leaf litter I'd disturbed, picking up bits and pieces and checking my groundsheet for stray and untidy items! I thought that maybe there was a bush full of highly domesticated yellow breasted birds, but it was definitely working alone as in the morning, another keen camp cleaner showed up and there was a bit of a squabble over who would clear up the breakfast crumbs! Maybe the yellow breast has evolved as a kind of pseudo apron, the bigger and brighter the yellow 'apron' the more campsites the proud owner gets to clean!

Back on the road again...

...so back I go to Huranui to pick up the ride. A very gentle 40k or so to a pleasant enough camp by the Waiau River. Pleasant enough if it weren't for the pesky sandflies, I'd been warned about them in this area, but quite forgotten just how pesky these little critters can be! Anyway the sunrise more than make up for it, especially as most of the aforementioned critters failed to make morning assembly!

Wedding bells...

...so things didn't look too promising on the morning of the wedding! Rain was coming in from the south horizontally, and it seemed pretty much set in for the day. Although a little late in proceedings, the Wedding Day Gods did eventually get round to casting an eye over events. They made a great job of halting the rain, and after much muttering, even managed to calm the persistent southerly! They offered some pertinent advice to the tug boat captain who steered our floating wedding party to a sheltered cove in Lyttleton harbour where much merriment was enjoyed by all!

Congratulations Kris and Olivier

(oh and Kris, just remember that no one likes to see a grown man naked...

...yes follow that advice and your married life will be long lasting and blissful!)

Back to Christchurch...

...and back to the rain! Unbelievably the rain continues it's deluge. I'm heading back to Christchurch on the bus for Kris and Olivier's wedding, and the weather is just awful. As an Englishman I feel responsible, 4 years ago when I was last here, the same thing happened, months of drought then nothing but rain as soon as I got off the plane! The tugboat cruise around the harbour could certainly be eventful if this southerly keeps up!

Take me to the River...

So another handful of clicks up the road finds me at Steve and Annie's Batch. I rode up yesterday and experienced a hill for the first time! So far I've been riding on the coastal strip which in Canterbury, barring the odd volcano is mostly flat. As I head inland a bit, there are a few more bumps to get over, but nothing serious till getting to the Alps. Today was a lovely relaxing day, cut the grass in the morning then took a wander down the Hurunui river and snoozed intermittently on the bank.

...and it Rained...

...and rained and rained...


The promised rain arrived right on que and didn't it just! John's rain guage registered 110mm over 24hours a true deluge. Of course nothing is perfect, like all farmers they're glad of the rain, but 'grizzling' for some 'drizzling' instead of it all coming in one great deluge, which compacts the soil and a lot just gets lost in run off.



Despite the rain, I think I may have found 'carrot heaven!' All the produce tastes fantastic, but if forced to choose, when I appear on Radio 4's forthcoming new series of 'Desert Island Veggies' I'd take the carrots! They are the sweetest I think I've ever had, but everything tastes so much better pulled straight from the ground.

Why Mac are eerie...?

...camped last night at the Macintosh fishing hole on the Waimakariri River (pronounced Why Mac are eerie!).

The sunrise this morning was just spectacular, but the fishermen that started rolling in soon after first light all warned of an impending southerly loaded with rain so I decided to 'sail' the as yet dry southerly up to Amberly and John & Michele's 'Stonecircle' organic farm.

On the road...

So off I set...

I'm not intending to get far this week, I will have to return on Friday for Kris and Olivier's wedding so will probably get the bus and leave the bike somewhere. The road is straight and rather uninteresting so I only want to do it once. In fact the most interesting thing to occur was when, unbeknown to me, my drinks bottle fell off the bike and I rode right over the top of it, nearly spilling me into the gravel shoulder. I was just looking back and cursing the stupidity of whoever had discarded a hard aluminium drinks bottle carelessly in the cycle lane when I realized it was me!

Let Jagged

So just how let jagged do I feel?

Well, I've travelled across a dozen or so time zones and to be honest clicking into Pacific time has been about as smooth a transition as could be expected. I've forgotten the true horrors of the flight, and am starting to feel almost normal again. A good test of any tret setting javeller is their ability to mix it with the 20'sumins on an all night stag do a couple of days after landing. Kris gets married next weekend, but tonight is his final blast. I made it till about 2 am then slunk off with fellow oldies, Steve and Gary, back to the sanctuary of Avoca Valley to recover ...


...so now I've finished packing the bike, made some last minute adjustments, and I'm heading north. The original plan, to head up through Lewis Pass, across to Nelson, then the Sounds and back down to Christchurch is becoming more fluid, I'll go where the wind takes me. First stop the Waimakariri river...

Dreary Day

It's dreary looking out at the wind and rain! Last night I camped up on the South Downs, it wasn't dreary then! I mean 'camped' in the loosest sense of the word. Really I just set up my 3 season ultralight 'tarptent' during a lull in the howling wind and rain. Then sat inside it for a couple of hours until the wind broke one of the supporting struts and the thing caved in on me. I heaped all my wet gear into my pack and hoofed it down the track in horizontal rain to meet a cab which I called from the shelter of a lone hawthorn bush.

So the tent I'm taking to New Zealand for 7 weeks is broken, ah well, probably won't need it anyway! The sun always shines in the land of the long white cloud, unless it's been obscured by ...


...clouds?