Day 20: Turangi to Taupo

 People say breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Prior to this journey my typical breakfast consisted of oatmeal or leftover. On this trip though, I am starting to really appreciate a big breakfast and the benefits it has. After yesterday’s beautiful ride from the Taranaki crossing Brian and I were left with a short day and thus this time to make a big breakfast. With some eggs, we bought 12 because they were the same price as 6, and a package of sausages we feasted on three fried eggs and two big New York porter sausages each, leaving the other eggs to hard boil for a snack.

                Despite the weather forecast of rain and some wind, we began our journey to warm weather, blue skies, and a slight wind at our back. Around ten kilometers down the road we met some friends from Queenstown, who were also cycling NZ. If you have seen any of the pictures of our bike then you know that we look ridiculous and not at all like the cyclists that would usually attempt a journey like this. Our friends were our exact opposites, they were decked out in full cycling attire and, I think, a little baffled at how we got this far. After a little chit-chat about the struggles of being a cycle tourist, the roads were calling us all and we were back to peddling around the breathtaking Lake Taupo. The scenery around Lake Taupo really reminded me of the Okanagan Valley back home in BC. Except rather than miles of subsurface below the valley, below Lake Taupo lay a dormant super volcano responsible for the largest volcanic eruption in the last 70000 years and more recently an eruption that leveled and reshaped much of the north island of New Zealand in 180 CE. With its volcanic history the beaches of Lake Taupo are really worth a stop to sit and rest in the beautiful black sand and maybe grab some of the natural pumice stone.

                Only having to cover 52km, we soon found ourselves rolling into the beautiful lake town of Taupo. We decided that with the uneasy forecast and a raving review, from our cycling friends, to spend the night at a local hostel, The Urban Backpackers. Every night despite how far we bike or how many hills we climb, the moment you sit on the bed it becomes a real struggle to do anything more with your day.  Pushing ourselves to not waste away in the hostel we eventually showered and made our way out of the hostel to explore Taupo. Considering we are about 4 weeks early for the busy season we could easily see it would be one of the places to be during busy times. There were many cool little places to eat and everyone that was out looked really friendly. After our quick journey through town we grabbed a burger at McDonalds, strictly because they had an old airplane you could eat in, and headed back to the hostel. Which is once again where you find me trying to finish off this blog after beating Brian in a game of Tiger Woods PGA 2003. Day 20, 52km down and almost there.

Day 19: Raetihi to Turangi

                As day 19 rang to a start, I was dreading getting out of me sleeping bag. My muscles were still very sore from our ten hours of being on the road the day before and the weather spelt, RAIN. Like every morning we quickly packed our bags and were out the door, though today out to the rain. I am finding myself getting very depressed in the morning viewing this last part of the journey more as a chore than an adventure. Brian could sense this and tried to pick me up with his positive attitude but between my aching muscles and the rain my stubborn self was having none of it. Brian, having given it his best try, resorted to our other tactic, when one of us was grouchy, took the lead and kept silent for the next 10km so I could think to myself and slowly come into a more positive mood.

                As the rain began to lift and my muscles came into their game, Brian and I stopped beside the massive rail bridge that was undergoing a tune up and facelift. Even though we still how almost 80km to go, my mood was back up so we did as we always do and jumped back on the bikes and put our feet to the pedals and pushed. As we zoomed on through the stunning high altitude landscape we noticed the kilometers falling behind us. Before long we had reached the small town of National Park, known for being in the Tongariro National Park…, and stopped in for some hot coffee to warm us from the cool alpine ride.

                I’m not sure if it was the lovely coffee or the stunning view set in front of us as we set off from the small café, but I was feeling great and ready to take in more of the stunning Tongariri Crossing. Gunning down the road, in front of us the horizon was filled with soft mountain ranges and volcanoes. Being a former geology student, this view was one of the best of the trip and it didn’t help that it was easy riding either. After many photo stops and some hill rising we reached the edge of the mountain plateau, a long winding road lay in front us like ribbon on the earth. With high spirits and a now shining sun we once again jumped on the bikes charging into the wilderness. In full tuck, reaching speeds I hadn’t yet seen on a road bike, the mountains shrinking behind me, I found what I had lost this morning.

                With one last climb and nothing but downhill left we pulled into a viewpoint and were greeted to our first sight of the great Lake Taupo. Its immensity only second to the rolling hills and sharp cliffs of the landscape that surrounded it. After a bumpy downhill ride through some of New Zealands well-made roads (sarcasm) we found ourselves at our hostel for the night in the lakeside town of Turangi. Which, as you may have guessed, is where you now find me  as always head on hand writing this entry another day down hopefully a better morning tomorrow. Day 19 89km, through sadness and rain to volcanoes and smiles.

Day 17/18: Wanganui to Raetihi

                “It’s just this exposed island in the South Pacific.” I always think back to Travis Rice, a professional snowboarded, saying this in ‘That’s it, That’s All’ about New Zealand. One day we get perfect conditions and the next gale force windstorms and rain. Brian and I decided the night before that because of the stormy conditions and the offer of another night at John and Ann’s. We did not do much this day beside I offered to make dinner, so we went to the town and I picked out a nice little lamb roast and picked some fresh veggies from their garden. The roast turned out really well and was a perfect end to our enjoyable time with John and Ann, they had been married for 53 years and their banter back in forth was a pleasant experience.

                Leaving this morning, was another hard departure we had a great time at John and Ann’s and also I was finding myself dreading our 104km day with a total climb of 1400m. After another sad goodbye and a promise to stop if or when we came back, we were soon rolling down the road in search of the Wanganui River Road. The road we had chosen today would go through a closed valley road that had been shut since June due to flooding and mudslides. We were excited for the possibility of once again not having any menacing traffic all around and being to ride side by side and chat. About 15km down the road we found our turn off and entered on to one of New Zealand’s ‘Great Rides’ according to the sign. Immediately we were greeted to a 450m vertical climb up a narrow road. You could instantly tell the devastation that the big flood had caused; all along the road the cliff was fresh with slips and piles of debris moved off to the side by road crews. At the summit of the climb, we finally saw the immensity of our undertaking. Along the winding Wanganui River was draped a rolling road climbing and falling with nature’s architecture.

                With no road signs or cell coverage the hours rolled on as we peddled through the river valley no idea of how far we had come or gone. Fortunate for us there was plenty of scenic views to take in and unfinished road works to avoid. The valley was blanketed in lush rainforest, like we had seen on the south island, with water cascading down towering clay walls into the valley below. The narrowness of the road and the complete lack of anything resembling civilization sent us back to what New Zealand must have been like when the Maori people first travelled the to this island in the early 12 century. After many hours we reached the small remote town of Jerusalam, not the Middle East one. From here on the road would be steep and full of partial washouts. As we climbed and climbed, the hills gave no sign of stopping, even the road works crew didn’t seem to know. Like the machines we are, we finally rolled on to even ground and to a lookout point where we saw our hard works sum. We were perched high above the river valley looking down at the sheer forest walls and canopy of exotic trees. It was the farthest detached I fell from the on goings of the world and could see why the Maori people of the Wanganui River Valley had settled this area so many centuries ago. Hoping we had just conquered our last hill of the day, why do I put myself in these situations, we set down the hills to high spirits eager to finish this long and arduous day.

                100km may not seem like such a feat to some of you, “it’s only an hour by car,” you may say. Well when you are covering it under your own power and carrying around 40 pounds with you over relentless hills it gets to you. The downward slope after what we had thought would be our last had only led us to another small remote town called Pipriki, where we learned we were still 30km out from our overnight stay. Those next 30kms were the hardest of the trip, at to that point my life. We climbed up almost 900m to the highest elevation of the journey on a seemingly endless hill. The journey took my exhausted and hungry body through the full range of emotions from sad and wanting to cry, to wanting to shout and scream and throw my bike into the deep gorge below, and finally to joy at exiting the rainforest into the rolling hills of what can only be described as The Shire.

                Now once again you find me here sitting on a bed hand holding my weary head off the pages of my journal. Today, more than ever, on this trip, I am in awe of the achievements that we have made and how far I have come. This time last year I had my face at the bottom of a drink in Sydney, Australia only worrying about partying as much as I could before school. Now I am climbing hills through a forgotten rainforest on a bike with all my worldly possessions strapped to the back. I have a long way to go before I am the person I want to be but this journey is at least headed in the right direction. Day 18 110km, too tired to write more.

Day 16: Palmerston North to Wanganui

I awoke this morning to the smell of breakfast and freshly made coffee, there is no better way to wake. After enjoying our fantastic breakfast, courtesy of Phil, we were eager to get back on the bikes after spending the last two days apart. As I pumped up my tires I asked Phil, who had owned a local bike shop, if he could help me with tuning my bike quickly; as it was having problems with shifting into high ranges. Before long Phil had me fully tuned and the bike was packed. We sadly parted ways and hoped we would see him again.

                Back on the road, my bike felt better than ever, thanks again Phil. It was a good thing too, because today I was going to need the old girl in tip top shape to help me push through the maddening headwinds we had forecasted.  According to Phil, Palmerston North is the windiest place in New Zealand; well we felt every just of it coming out of town.

                On the road we pushed through the wind, which apparently never stops, for kilometer after kilometer. Unlike other headwind days we had, our spirits were keeping high; I’m not sure if it was the beautiful pastures of the lushest green rolling endlessly all around or maybe the knowledge of a hot meal and shower at the end of the journey. Our pace was slow but steady and both of us could really notice how much more fit we were since the start of the trip. We decided to stop for lunch in the small town of Samson and to grab a coffee at this little café in an old church aptly named Church Café. What a good choice this was, for fairly cheap Brian and I each enjoyed some delicious hot food, I had the bacon frittata and Brian had a toasted sandwich, and each a hot drink. Looking back now, I credit this stop in giving me the ability to push through to what follows. As we still had many kilometres to pedal we were back on the road and wind on our face. I have never before experienced such a wind as we had today. There was not a single moment in our eight hours today where there was no wind. There were some moments were you come behind some trees and feel the resistance back off a little, only to appear the other side a massive gust of wind bringing you to standstill. It was a completely unrelenting force all day long, there was moments where it was so gusty that any movement of my front wheel would send me into traffic or the ditch.

                After many stops, some walking of the bikes, and few select curses we finally rolled into Wanganui just after 6, and funny enough the wind died down. A little past Wanganui in a beautiful country home we reached our overnight stay courtesy of the lovely John and Ann. With rain beginning open its ugly eyes down on us we hurriedly unpacked the bags and were in the house. John and Ann were so kind to include us in their dinner, even though we were running it quite late.

                Yet again Warmshowers and New Zealands wonderful sense of hospitality had shown us a great time. We enjoyed a lovely meal with John and Ann followed by some tea, cookies and an exchange of travel stories around the world and New Zealand. With another storm coming through Brian and I were invited to stay a second night here to sit out the storm so off to bed it is after a long and very hard day. Day 16, 81km and all wind.

Day 15: Wellington to Palmerston North

                When I had started planning the journey back in the middle of July I had decided that I would leave the planning of the north island until we were on the road as it would take less time to travel and we would have more time for touristy activities. Over the last few days Brian has been planning the route and has begun to dawn on me just how close we are to the finish line. Starting tomorrow we have eight days left of cycling and we will have covered 1600kms. As I stated yesterday we would be catching a bus from Wellington to Palmerston North, Kevin’s hometown, to avoid getting killed traveling along the national highway. Keen on still doing this living thing we rode the bus.

                The ride was a fairly nice one, it travelled along the coast out of Wellington before heading inland towards Palmerston North. From theinland north we stopped at the small towns dropping off and picking up passengers. This was our first time on the trip that we would have two days off the bikes and loking out the window I was happy for it. The wind was blowing really strong and despite not hang much in the way of hills, the wind would have been enough to break us.

                A short nap later and we arrived in Palmerston North where we headed straight for the Wendys, a fast food chain for those who haven’t had the pleasure, where we finally enjoyed a spicy chicken sandwich after a year apart. We continued to sit at the Wendys for what must have been two hours, using their free wifi and debating going out in the gusting wind. Once both of us had ran out of free wifi and I had grown impatient of waiting around, I convinced Brain that we should go and explore what Palmerston North has to offer.

                Palmerston North is a town like no other we have seen so far in New Zealand. It has all the necessities of normal town and a really cool downtown core with a historic centre but unlike every other town we have visited there was no on walking around and if they were they were not the type you would want to go talking to. After wondering aimlessly for some time I noticed Brian becoming increasingly tired, so we headed for the local library and some more free wifi. Well Brian slept I tried to catch up on typing up some journal entries so I could them for you all to read. Before long it was time for us to head to our overnight stay with Phil, who we met through Warmshowers. Hungry once again so we picked up a $5 Domino’s pizza and were at Phils in no time.

                I am not sure if we are getting lucky or if New Zealanders are all just so kind and amazing but once again our host has gone out of his way to accommodate two stinky Canadian boys for a night. Phil had so many cool stories about his time cycle touring around NZ on both tandem and normal bikes. We flipped through is photo album looking at stunning pictures and discussing the routes he had taken. On the topic of routes he asked us which route we would be taking after leaving here and we now have actually ended up deciding on a new route through the centre of the north island that should help us avoid some of the volatile west coast weather while also seeing a more scenic backcountry. Looking forward to getting back on the bikes we are now off to bed, so it is time I bid you farewell. Day 15, 153km…….. by bus.

Day 14: Wellington

Being in the country for so long, the big city can be a drastic difference. When Brian and I unpacked our bags yesterday even we initially wanted to immediately leave Wellington. The big cities hostels always attract more of a party crowd and are generally way less homely and welcoming then we had been used to. The streets were packed with cars and people all in the busy rush of city life. We were a couple raggedy country boys who just didn’t fit anymore.

                This morning we were feeling in better spirits, we ate some free pancakes provided by the hostel and were willing to give the city another chance. With no plans, save possibly getting a haircut, we set to the streets to see what Wellington could offer. Our initial rushed judgement couldn’t have been more wrong. Although Wellington had people going about their busy lives and work, the rush and haste that is so normally associated with big cities was one existent. Everyone seemed eager to help if you looked lost and just generally happy to be around. After wondering around for a while more and grabbing some greasy food court Chinese food, I felt in the mood for a nice cup of coffee. Google led us in the direction of The Flight Coffee Hanger, a small high end café and coffee roaster that apparently served the best black gold in town. I ordered a personal drip coffee that was, according to their signs, a must have for black coffee drinkers. As we sat there, enjoying our beautiful coffees, our friend Natalie joined us to explore more of this beautiful city. Natalie now in tow, we set off once again in search of more great Wellington culture. We walked down towards the water and came across the Parliament and some old government buildings, we took a tour through an old historic building, and walked through the train station where Brian and I would be grabbing a coach tomorrow. Stopping outside the railway station we decided to grab some sushi, it’s everywhere here, before we were bombarded by a tour group of eastern Europeans who pushed through to the front and bought the entirety of the deep fry cabinet. Finally getting a chance to pay, we enjoyed our sushi and reflecting on growing love for the city. Continuing on we made it to the waterfront walk and what a walk it was. The waterfront was bordered by old wharf sheds that had been repurposed to accommodate a bustling entertainment and dining district. In the water people out in kayaks and canoes exploring the harbour. One more time I fell in love with New Zealand. Wellington was everything you could ask for; great food, upbeat and friendly citizens, and a location oh so beautiful I almost had to pinch myself.

                As the hour was nearing six and the free dinner at the hostel was running out of time, we parted ways with Natalie so we could check in to our rooms and eat. Which is where you find me now watching Brian getting a hostel haircut. Day 14 0km on bike but a few falling in love with this city.

Day 13: Blenheim to Wellington (via Picton)

During the weeks coming up to this epic journey I began to get many doubts about the trip. Would I find a suitable bike in time? Could I afford do it? Was I in shape enough in for this undertaking? It had gotten to the point where I was looking at changing my flights home to just go straight from Queenstown. With the coming of our first big milestone I find myself thinking back on these moments of weakness and also with the recent holiday of Canadian thanksgiving I realise I haven’t taken any time to thank people for where I am today. All those doubts I had at the very start of the trip were very real but the fist way I started to get past those doubts and believe in myself was all the people who seemed to think that this journey was too much for me and I would not make it. Well to those people I would like to say thank you, because whether you meant or not some of the driving force behind this journey has been my desire to prove you wrong. The next people I am thankful for this year are my friends. I know I am slightly distant person and I don’t talk as much as I should but throughout the year when I needed someone to talk to or even some help, you had my back. So please know that I appreciate everything you do for me, be you a new or old friend, you have been a key part in making this year turn out to be one of the best. The next is Brian, who I believe deserves a special shout out for all the time he has had to spend with me and put up with me. I tend to run my life very different than I run a kitchen. In the kitchen I enjoy structure and planning; lately my life has been lived on the wind allowing it to go as it will. Brian during this has provided me the parachute and controls I needed to guide myself through the wind. Last and certainly not least, I am thankful for my family. I have been abroad for a year now and I did not leave home on the best terms yet whenever I needed anything whether it be someone to talk to or some ‘help’ they were always willing to help me out and offer some helpful insight to my dilemmas. It is too often that we push aside advice based on our own personal pride, sorry Brian. But if there is one thing I leaned on his journey, that advice, though not what we want to hear at the time, is going to save you the pain and the suffering down the road. So to all of you, thank you for everything.

                As we reluctantly left the awesome hospitality of our gracious hosts Sue and Dennis this morning, we were also embarking on our last bike ride in the south island. It was bittersweet riding through the Marlborough Valleys. In one part the south island had been our home for the last five months and given us a great ski season some of the most stunning views I have ever laid eyes on, while on the other had we were getting very eager to leave the long endless hills and blood thirsty sandflies. But as the cliché goes, “All good things must come to an end,” so we pushed hard through the valleys excited for a new adventure… and a rest day. The journey of 28kms took us only an hour and a half so before we knew what happened we had climbed our last south island hill and were darting downhill into the port town of Picton. As I started to coast into the town centre of Picton a man on the side of the road yelled at me, “You made it man!” I couldn’t help but smile.

                Having arrived an hour before our check in time for the ferry, Brian and I decided to kill some time in the town centre. For those back home Picton is a lot like White Rock, but with a little Horseshoe Bay aspects. As we sat on the waterfront, bikes perched beside us, we couldn’t help but be proud of ourselves. Two guys who had never done any cycle touring had ridden up an entire island with no training, improper gear, and pretty disorganised. But every night we made it to at least to our planned destination, neither of us tried to kill the other, and most importantly we had great time doing it. Not long after we went to the ferry terminal, checked-in and were soon rolling our bikes on to this huge boat. The ferry from Picton would take us out of the Marlborough Sound and across the open water to the small gulf where Wellington sat. The journey would be around three hours long and we were expecting two and a half meter swells out in the open channel. The boat was very similar, on the inside, to the ferries back home so we grabbed a sofa with our friend Natalie and her friend from Queenstown. The journey through the sound was really beautiful with the turquoise green water matching really well with the lush green islands and rolling hills. When we exited the sound the journey started to get a lot worse. The swells were coming against the side of the ship causing it to roll considerably. It was near this time even my usual iron stomach was starting to feel a little queasy and the rest of the more unseasoned passengers started grabbing ‘barf bags’ in preparation for the worst. Luckily we all made it without being sick and Brian and I got our first view of a big city since leaving Melbourne back in May.

                Unlike our ferries in BC, which are multi-directional the ferries that do the cook crossing are unidirectional, so after a slightly lengthy backing up procedure we were docked and off into the big city. As dangerous as it already was riding fully encumbered on normal roads it was even scarier on the big city streets. Giving up and frankly scared, we walked the bikes the last bit of the journey through town to the backpackers where you find me now, in bed finishing off this entry. Day 13, 28km down and thankful.

               

Day 12: St. Arnaud to Blenheim

                There is two sounds that frighten every cycle tourist when they awake; the first is the sound of rain falling on whatever shelter you have taken for the night; and the second is the gusting of wind against that same shelter. This morning we awoke to the gusting wind pushing the down pour of rain against the motel/backpackers that we had spent the night in… With this being our only potential rain day so far, excluding the bus journey, we knew that we could not avoid this day by bus and our 102km to Blenheim would have to be covered. Hoping that the wind and rain might die down, we slowly packed up the bikes and ate breakfast. Unfortunately for us the rain showed no immediate sign of stopping, so we bagged all our gear in garbage bags to keep out the rain. Looking evermore the homeless drifters we are, we set off into the wind and rain in search of the Wairu Valley and blue skies.

                Climbing out of St.Arnaud the rain was doing its best to break our spirits but we could see he valley and wind, despite getting us quite wet, was at our bikes. The ride today had only drops in elevation no more climbs so we kept our mind focused on the positive and pushed on. In what felt like no time at all we were suddenly speeding through a tightly woven road down out of the Nelson Lakes Valley and into the broad, and shallow Wairu Valley. Bursting out on the plain the rain was letting up but our speed was keeping. It is lovely feeling rolling down a road that is seemingly flat but keeping in the highest gear and barely having to pedal. We continued along the winding valley road with tremendous speed, smiling and talking about the great time we were having; hesitant to stop in the case the magical force pushing us along would suddenly disappear. As we had started to talk about how we were closing in our 1000km milestone we came to the topic of punctures an how fortunate we were to avoided them all trip. Well as they say, “Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” A quick dodge of a pothole and there he was, I could immediately feel my tire begin to deflate. Hoping that it as just some freak valve release, I attempted to pump it back up and although it did hold air for some time, I soon found myself at the side of the road removing the front tire. Surprising myself at my ability to still change a tire with speed and ease, we quickly found ourselves back on the road eager to finish our long day.

                As we passed through the small town of Wairu Valley we had ran out of backing winds and were now standing to face head winds. By the time we had made it to the other side of town, a short two minutes, the wind was gusting enough to keep us at a basic stand still. Knowing no other option we continued to peddle through hoping for any let up. 5km I to our cycling version of hell we happened on a miracle. Our friend who was working her last day at a nearby winery was on her way to town to pick up groceries for a last cook out; spotting our adventure and known we were coming through that way today she pulled over and offered us a ride. Eager to escape the gale force winds we accepted and loaded the bikes into the truck. Natalie was kind enough to take us right to our overnight stay at another Warmshowers. Saying our goodbyes and knowing we would see her tomorrow on the ferry to Wellington we departed ways.

                The hosts we had tonight, Dennis and Sue were absolutely amazing, they cooked us a beautiful dinner and we each had our own bedroom with one of the most comfortable beds I’ve ever slept on. It was Canadian Thanksgiving back home and being able to have a sit down dinner and great conversation was a pleasant change from the last few nights. It certainly was a great night and a good way to keep our minds off the homesickness around these holidays. Day 12 102km down… 30km by truck.

Day 11: Murchison to St. Arnaud

                Day 11 arrived in a terrific mood. We had another night of a hostel all alone to ourselves. I awoke to Brian doing yet another one of his signature snapchats, this time of me sleeping. I sometimes wonder how many times I have had to do something for a snapchat over and over again just to get the right take. But it’s for the fame of it all isn’t it. Nevertheless, as with every morning on this journey, there is riding to do. This morning I was treated to two lovely bowls of Coco Pops, basically Rice Krispies but with chocolate for those who don’ know; it probably wasn’t the best breakfast so I decided to offset it with a frozen microwave pie… As we yet another day of hard and long riding ahead of us, we packed our bikes and set off for our overnight stay in St. Arnaud.

                The ride to St. Arnaud today would take us 77km and uphill 750m through to the Nelson Lakes Nation Park. Although the route today had a substantial climb, our research had told us that the average grade would be less than 1%, not so bad considering some of our climbs have had hills with gradients of 30%. Our first part of the journey was fairly easy going as we crossed through more of the New Zealand farmland; though unlike most of this countries pastures being filled with sheep or cows, these particular fields were filled with deer. New Zealand has become yet another country to join the venison market to meet the worlds growing demands. With yet another snapchat from Brian we were back to the bikes, the herds of deer opposite the fence chasing us on. Winding through the valley up and down the hills, Brian led the day seemingly hell bent on St. Arnaud. After finally convincing him to pullover for a quick snack and break, I learned that our almost unbelievable pace was on the account Sandflies. As a little precursor, the sandflies had been getting progressively worse as we headed more north up the island and apparently Brian is one of their favorite meals. So as I slowly snacked on a granola bar and tried to rest my legs, Brian was pacing back and forth to not give any moment for the sandflies to take a chomp. Shorter than I would have liked we were back on the road and climbing up hills and rolling around bends, only to find another climb. One more stop and another few rolling hills and the valley finally gave way to a massive plateau stretching as far as my eyes could see. We pushed along the plateau ever weary of the coming clouds and our tiring legs.

                St. Arnaud had proved to be a very elusive town, every turn or small decline seeming to send us down into the town only to have us continue you on. When we finally rolled into town, the rain had finally let loose and was beginning to drizzle. We decided to take refuge in a nearby café so we could figure out what we could do for an overnight stay. Our initial plan of cycling another 10km towards our next destination and a department of conservation (doc) campsite; though now the rain and Brian’s supreme discomfort with sandflies had pushed us to look for new options. A little research later, Brian found a motel with backpackers like attachment just a little ways up the road. So here you find me resting my aching muscles in a comfy bed, watching the rain and wind preform a wonderful duet out the window. Here’s hoping they finish up tonight as tomorrow we have another triple digit day into the coastal town of Blenheim. Day 11, 77km and sitting.

Day 10: Reefton to Murchison

                It is hard to believe that is has only been ten days since Brian and I packed our lives in Queenstown onto bikes and set off into the mountains in search of this magical adventure and a far off place called Auckland. Last night despite our fantastic hosts had been another rough one for me as my stomach had been acting up and giving me bad feelings; having seen pictures of cyclists pooping themselves I was sure I could not pull off that look. Fortunately for me I awoke this morning in good health and spirits so I ate a banana and an entire box of Rice Krispies, packed the bikes, took a shower, and hit the road.

Today was day two of our inward journey and according to my elevation research would only see us climbing 100m or so throughout the day; that is if you read the right day. Leaving Reefton, we were off to a great start with a small backing wind and cruising at a great speed through the pastures. The bike was working, the sun was shining, and we both had that smile on our face like we didn’t have any hills to climb today. We reached the small town of Inanghua ad we only had half of our journey left! Remember a little earlier when I said that we only had 100m of vertical, well I had actually looked at the day before ad todays vertical was actually around 700m… oops. About 10km down the road we started entering into the Upper Rolling Gorge Scenic Reserve and immediately started climbing. As the hills kept on coming and us having no ideas when or if they would stop, our spirits started to falter. One thing I’ve learned so far on this journey is that when things seem bleak and spirits are low all I need to do is stop and take a moment t loo around and take in the scenery. On one side of us this towering cliff covered in tall trees all blanketed in moss and filled in with ferns with the occasional trickling stream coming down. On the other, a steep bank its only barrier a thin line of trees before I fell down to roaring white water below. Climbing for what felt like a lifetime we finally saw salvation, a spot where there was no mountains nestled between two limestone peaks shining bright with sunshine. Crossing a bridge towards our salvation we both looked down to see a perfect cliff diving spot, as we could see no better way to cool off then to go for a quick dip; we crossed the bridge and found a path down. Looking over the edge of the low cliff all encompassed by nature and the probably cold river below me I got a little nervous but this is what I’m here for and if I could bike through that never ending gorge then the least I could was wash myself of it in its very own waters. SPLASH! I surfaced out of the frigid water and swam panicky towards the shore. As I pulled myself up out of the water the rush of refreshment hit me. All those endless climbs and burning muscles were replaced by the sensation of the cool water running off my skin while the warm sun dried it.

Quickly changing to avoid getting eaten alive by the swarms of sandflies, we got back on the bikes and rode to finish the last 11km to Murchinson. As we looked back at the mountains shrinking behind us the sun rested its ray perfectly on its peaks ad Brian stopped to get a picture. Once we finally arrived in town our hostel was right as we entered so we pulled in ready to settle down for the evening. Turns out its Sunday and the owner was out playing golf so we waited outside for his arrival. Once the owner arrived he informed us that we would be the only people in tonight so we had the hostel entirely to ourselves, and what a beautiful one it is. The owner also explained that anyone who shows up on bike gets a beer on him. So I her I sit a wonderful organic pilsner in hand, some tunes on the radio and what, according to Brian, is the best shower in New Zealand awaiting me. Day 10 87km down and only ten more left!

Day 9: Greymouth to Reefton

                Day 9 and the start of our journey across the nation to the east. I had not been able to sleep the night before so I awoke today feeling quite groggy and generally uninterested in the 75kms we would have to cover. But we don’t have a car and there are deadlines to meet, so a quick shower and a hostel breakfast, toast with jam, and we set off towards our overnight stay of Reefton, apparently the West Coast’s only inland town. But oh wait, I am travelling with a child so Brian had to stop and purchase a horn for his bike…Whatever makes him happy I guess.

                Aright, now we were on the road, but wait there has been an accident and our route was closed so we have to take a 6km detour around, much more of an inconvenience on a bike. Lucky for us we the detour route was through the rolling river gorge hills before sending us down to our intended route… It was during this time that to my dismay my bike started acting up. My ever faithful companion, bike not Brian, decided that I would no longer need third range or did not need to stay in my lowest gear for any longer than three seconds after switching. It looks like my bicycle mechanic skills in tuning had gone terribly wrong somewhere and I was paying the price today of all days. But with nowhere to go but backwards or forwards, I picked myself and moved towards Reefton trying to distract myself with the beautiful backdrop New Zealand was offering. Climbing one last hill through Victoria Forest, we sat ourselves at its summit and looked over the valley below, streaks of sun highlighting and giving depth to all it touched. Reefton lay just at the far side of this valley so we did as we have done so many time before and tipped our tires to the road below. As the cool air pushed itself around my body as I sped down the hill I couldn’t help but smile and be happy that despite all the obstacles thrown in my way I had still got to my destination.

                Our overnight stay was at a private backpackers called The Old Bread Shop. Having stayed at many backpackers now, I can say safely that this was my favorite. We arrived to no one home but signs instructing us to make ourselves at home, it’s crazy how welcoming these small towns are. Once we had unloaded the bikes and fought over who got the bigger bed, I ran into town to grab something to cook for dinner. When I arrived back the owner, Trevor, had awoken from his ‘old man nap’ as he called it and we settled up, while he welcomed me to the use of his shop so I could fix my bike. After determining the problem and a little holding help from Brain the old girl was good as new and ready to take on the nation again. So as I sit here finishing up this entry Brian and I have the hostel all to ourselves and have stuffed all the food we could fit to feed the growing cyclists appetite. I must turn in for the night as we have another 85km to do. Day 9 81km down and still standing.

Day 8: Hokitika to Greymouth

Goodbyes are always on of the most difficult things of travelling around the world both because of the overall quantity of goodbyes and the amazing and interesting people you meet. So this morning saying goodbye to Kevin was another difficult moment and it’s hard to express how much thanks we had for his hospitality and his general kindness. To make it easier we made a hasty exit and took a few photos.

                Before we got on the road we decided we would make a quick stop over at our favorite local grocery store, New World, and loaded up on some road snacks and possible dinner if we decided to set up the tent for the night. Today’s journey would take us along the coastline to the slightly larger coastal city of Greymouth. Unlike other days, todays ride was fairly straight forward down the coastal road and only going slightly inland before Greymouth. We were making great time today as our biking muscles were getting more and more tuned. The most exciting part of the day, you know other than riding our bikes down the beautiful coastline, was going over our first road rail bridge. The road rail bridge is essentially a normal bridge but with track in the middle so a train could use the bridge as well. This does not seem so exciting but me for me it meant focus as getting my skinny tires caught in the rails would spell certain disaster. Though thanks to some helpful hints from Kevin and a little skill we made it across and in just a few kilometers we were rolling into Greymouth, our first city of the trip.

                Brian and I’s eating habits have been really healthy so far on this trip but after biking all day and having not seen any fast food since we left the comforts of Queenstown, the golden arches of McDonalds are pretty irresistible. A Big Mac, cheeseburger, chocolate sundae, medium fries, and a Coke later we settled ourselves into a nearby hostel for a night of rest. Day 8 40kms and one Hungry Buster Mac Meal down.

Day 7: Rest Day

                It’s funny after 6 fairly intense days biking across a nation you feel like you have entered into a completely new lifestyle. That is until you your first rest day and it feels like your back in Queenstown in your bed ready for a day off, is it so easy to change back? I came out of the bedroom at a few minutes past ten having spent the better part of the morning watching films and browsing social media. Sitting having breakfast with Brian and Kevin already discussing the possibility of going hiking or kayaking at one of the local hikes. After a cup of coffee and a nice few slices of toast with marmalade we talked further on some current events and our route for our trip before getting on to the idea of kayaking a local lake. Deciding on the closer lake due to the day’s high winds, we went outside so we could try on some gear and fit the kayak. As far as being in a proper expedition kayak this was Brian’s first time so he was eager to jump in the gear and take first go at the kayak.

                Once we had gotten the kayak and the bikes loaded, Kevin had explained that those not in the kayak could go for a bike ride around the area, we set off in the direction of Lake Mahinapua. From the point where we would launch the kayak, Brian would cross the lake and head into a small outflow river where Kevin and I would drive to another park and ride the bikes around before meeting Brian at a bridge we had marked out with a small piece of cloth. As Brian set off into the lake Kevin and I headed out to the next parking spot a few miles down the road here we unhooked the bikes and proceeded to ride down a beautiful trail only stopping to mark the bridge for Brian. After we continued on, the trail got better and better from going through the remnants of an old saw mill to a boardwalk over the swampy marsh below. Before long it was time to turn back around and right on time we met Brian under the bridge where we exchange roles. Now today, as luck would have it for Brian, the wind was blowing down river so on my way back to where we had first pushed Brian off I would be battling my way upstream and against wind… sounds like a good rest day.

                Having done a little more kayaking then Brian I was completely ok with this arrangement. Once again another moment of what was thinking? Luckily the scenery and blue skies were perfect the workout I was getting may have phased my mood. The river route took me through more of the classic New Zealand Jurassic forest though swampy flavour added this time. The hardest part of my journey came when the river spit you out at the far side of the lake and the wind was trying its hardest you right back into it. But despite the punishing head wind I still managed to make it back to the meeting point 5 minutes early.

                Once we had got back to Kevin’s place, Kevin cooked some more of his homegrown and homemade Pumpkin Soup while we leaned over some maps discussing different routes Brian and I could take on our final few days in the south island. One of our friends Kay had also managed to make her way up to Hokitika from Franz Joseph so Brian and I wanted to go into town and meet up with her. Once we had met Kay down in Hokitika we decided to explore some the historic buildings and monuments that the town had to offer. Since Kevin was nice enough to both prepare dinner and invite Kay over as well we decided we had finished our touristy activities and should head back.

                As I finish up this journal for today we had a lovely meal prepared for us and we all talked and discussed many topics I think back on my short two day stay here and how much I will miss it. Day 7 no distance by bike but miles in life lessons. Thanks Kevin.

Day 6: Ross to Hokitika

                Despite some exterior concerns about our overnight stay in the small town of Ross, Brian and I both awoke feeling refreshed after a good night’s sleep. Not having much food left but a can of beans a couple granola bars and a banana, breakfast was short and small in hopes we would get a better refuel in the larger town of Hokitika.

                At just after 10am, which seems to have become our average starting time, Brian and I h the road for our sixth time. Our ride today would be a small one at just 25km, taking us from the coastal mining town of Ross inland slightly through a rolling road before dumping us back on the coastline and a ten kilometer straight ride to Hokitika. Getting through the morning stiffness, not that kind, can be a little rough sometimes especially after a longer day like the day prior. But after 3km’s your legs start to loosen up and you’re ready to put down the miles. As we were slowly ascending into the low lying forest you could really begin to tell the change in environment. Where we had started our journey in Queenstown mornings still carried quite the chill and most winds were coming down off the cold peaks so it was also quite chilly. Exiting Ross the air was pretty warm and it only took one hill before you were in shorts and a t-shirt. The landscape around us was also changing from long green pastures and Jurassic fern forests to rolling rocky meadows and low growing sparse forests. It wasn’t long before we were descending out of the forest and we were back along the Tasman Sea. The road along the sea was straight as an arrow and the wind from the open ocean came gusting off it, thus the surrounding trees had only grown towards the inland leaving there beach side completely branchless almost like a comb over.

                Like the professional cycle tourists we were now becoming, it was not long before we were crossing the long bridge into the coastal town of Hokitika. Hokitika is our first larger town since leaving Wanaka back on day two so Brian and I had decided that would spend an extra night here and take advantage of the generous accommodation supplied by Kevin, who has been gracious enough to open up his house to us. After a quick refuel in town and small look around we made our way to Kevin’s house on Jollie St, a good sign of things to come.

                We met Kevin on an app called Warmshowers which was essentially an app for cycle tourists, like ourselves, to find a local host that is willing to put us up for a night or tow. Kevin was one of these people ad may also be one of the coolest people I have ever had the chance to meet. We just spent the night looking over old photos of his life as a tramper and mountaineer throughout the world. His photos, though some 40 years old are amazingly taken and for everyone he can offer a little piece of memory. If I live even half the life that Kevin has lived I will die a happy man. I cooked us a nice steak and roast veggie dinner to try and express or thanks for his wonderful hospitality. As the weather is storming around outside Kevin has offered us another night of accommodation so looks like more time to tune the bike. Day 6 25km down.

Day 5: Franz Joseph to Ross

I have never really gone out of my way to buy my own cereal yet whenever we had Rice Krispies I always enjoyed it. There was always something about the way they tasted with a fresh pouring of milk, so what better way to start the day then a couple bowls of Rice Krispies and a cup of tea. After a couple quick goodbyes to some new friends and some hastily sandwiching making; we were on the road and set to do our journey of 63km. As far as accommodation for our night tonight, Harihari had little to nothing to offer so we were in store for another night in the tent.  We were slightly playing with the idea of going even further than Harihari depending on what kind of time we would be making.

                My elevation research for today should us climbing just over 100m for the entire day so Brian and I started the day doing little sprints and generally making great time. After just 2 hours on New Zealand’s beautiful roads, a couple of mirror lakes and few thousand sheep later we arrived at our first stop of the day Whataroa. Whataroa is about as small a town as they come having just a pub, gas station, and general store so we quickly ate our prepared sandwiches and a banana and hit the road already half way to our overnight destination, or so we thought. Just as we were leaving we saw a sign with a map and decided to do a quick study of the upcoming route, after a little consideration we decided that since we were making such great time and there were little to no hills on this route we would tack another 45km and head to Ross where we were hoping we had a couchsurfing opportunity.

                Back on the road we continued trucking and making excellent time snaking our way through the emerald green fields the mountains shadow looming over us. It was sometime later that I would throw my hat at superstition and proclaim that we had not really had a true hill today <<<< Stupid Tanner. Well like I had asked for it another 2km down the road we entered into Mt. Hercules Scenic Reserve which unlike normal mountain passes that take you up and around this beast of a road took you right up and over. It was so steep that despite our best efforts we were forced to dismount and push our sorry little asses up the hill all the way to the top. With yet another downhill road through the Jurassic forest we were spit out just 5km from Harihari.

                We had covered 60km in just 4 hours and even though Mt. Hercules had shown us who was boss, we were feeling strong and able for the last 45km push to our overnight stay of Ross and hopefully our first views, from the bikes, of the Tasman Sea. The ride was fairly simple from Harihari to Ross, or so the lady in Harihari had told us. After clearing Harihari and its surrounding farms and pastures our rad led into yet another ‘Scenic Reserve’, which I now have come to associate directly with hills. For every stunning view and supreme silence that these scenic reserves bring, our bodies were beginning to tell us they weren’t the machines we so wanted to believe we were and every small hill and incline was slowing us even more. Unlike the other scenic reserves, every time you thought this was ready to spit you out to pasture with the sheep it kept on going rainforest as far as my eyes could see. Finally after some 30km we were pushed out onto this single lane bridge and the ocean was sending off its signature salty calling card, we were close. Coming from growing up so close to the ocean and having spent 8 months prior to this adventure in Sydney, Australia I have kind of come to miss the ocean. A long hour later I finally got to see my old friend again. The Tasman Sea stretching out to the horizon before it rolled out of eye sight crashing its waves over the beautiful New Zealand coastline. I gave a few fist bumps to the air and a couple shouts of joy t my reunion but there was places to go and I would be able to walk the shore tomorrow.

                Only 4km from our first ocean sighting lie the small gold mining town of Ross. Ross reminds me a lot of Kitimat where basically everyone works for the local mining company and then goes to the same pub after work. After having no luck with our couchsurfing prospect we found ourselves a cool little cabin for twenty dollars for the night with hot showers and kitchen to heat our canned beans up in. 103km today and I finish writing this entry by pen in a single light cabin my life sure has changed a lot over the last little while. Tanner Out!

Day 4: Fox Glacier to Franz Joseph

                After spending a night at the Ivory Tower and not having biked the day before we awoke to bright skies ad high spirits. This was all going to be very necessary as according to my elevation maps today would be the hardest hill wise. With this in mind I decided that we would only take the mountain pass through to Franz Joseph and spend the night there.

                Sooner than I think we would have liked we were on the road and also a hill. The first climb of the day would take us five kilometers with a total vertical rise of just about three hundred meters. Despite having just stared this journey we both managed to stay on the bikes the whole climb to the top. I was really proud of myself and even had a smile on my face when we got to the top. The terrain around us looked like something straight out of a nature documentary. High forested walls on one side and on the other tall prehistoric looking ferns draped I moss and other foliage; at any moment I would not have been surprised if a huge brontosaurus poked his log neck up for a little snack.

                As you can probably guess my favorite part of the day was coming down the other side of the hill where you could see all the hard work pay off in the stunning valley unfolding before your eyes. The tops of the mountains still covered in snow with cascading waterfalls into the rushing river below. After one more climb just a little shorter and steeper we found ourselves at the foot of our third and final hill of the day a short 3km with 150m of vertical. Not knowing what to expect and excited by the fact that we were almost done climbing we pushed through to the top and tipped our tires down towards the winding road below us. Speeding through the trees we excited 65 million BC and were greeted to the lush green meadows lined with sheep and cows the shining sun above and the shadow of our accomplishment behind us.

                A short ride through the meadows brought us into the small town of Franz Joseph Glacier w set about our next task of finding a place to rest our weary bodies. With a small grocery stop and some friendly information from a former Franz resident we exited town as quickly as we entered it. No long down the road both Brian and were getting bad feelings about the ominous clouds looming ever closer to our proposed camping spot for the night; so we pulled over just a bridge and to look at any possible camping places. Brian pointed out that we could camp underneath the bridge for the night as that would keep our tent out of the rain. I was not keen on the idea but also was not offering any useful ones of my own so we agreed to go back into town for some food for dinner. During my shopping Brian sat outside and did some Franz Joseph research and found we could stay at the backpackers for $22 and would get a free breakfast and soup. Being very keen on not becoming a bridge troll quickly agreed and we set off up the road to our new home.

                The backpackers was one of the coolest I have stayed in yet on my travels. It looked like it had been an old school hotel that had left its exterior but renovated its interior to accommodate a backpackers. Our bunks were in the ‘Stables’ which as you can guess had been the old stables and renovated to sleep eight people and have a small bathroom and kitchenette. Being the social butterflies we are, we quickly made friends with our new bunk mates and proceeded to chitchat about everyone’s travels. As the weather was turning out to be quite nice Brian suggested that we actually visit the glacier that the town was named after and what better way to get there than our now unburdened bikes. It’s amazing how light our bikes felt after being unburdened so in no time flat we were at the glacier and taking in all it majesty despite its ever shrinking peril. Though no stay is long on a bike tour and after a quick photo op we were back headed to the hostel for free soup.

                As of right now we are sitting back at the ‘stables’ and about to go enjoy a ten dollar bottle of wine and make some s’mores with our new friend Kay and our two German bunk mates s I bid you farewell journal and I will see you tomorrow to fill you in on our journey to Harihari. Day 4 23km…. I know we could have done more.

 

Day 3: Makaroa to Fox Glacier

Today I awoke to the brushing branches against our little two man tent nestled under a small grouping of trees. It had been rained last night but nature’s canopy had kept us fairly dry even through what had sounded like fairly heavy winds. This morning would not be like others we would experience on the trip; this morning, due to the stormy conditions in the Haast Pass we would be catching an intercity coach and skipping past two of our spot to ox Glacier. We had some time to kill so we awoke, made some breakfast, and took down camp keeping our bike unburdened so we could throw them on the bus. After packing up we awaited our time to meet the bus at the café attached to the campground/ everything in Makarora. As we enjoyed a nice cup of coffee and peppermint tea we saw the storm start to unfold itself in front of our eyes. A little while after sitting a group of ‘bikies’ strolled up to the bar soaking wet having just finished the ride through the pass that we were heading head first into, though fortunately by way of coach this time.

As the hour approached where we would meet our fateful steed we gathered the bikes and stood open to the elements waiting. After a very wet thirty minutes the bus arrived and much to our excitement had enough room for us and the bikes. As the bus slowly began climbing out of the valley and into Haast Pass, which I learned from our bus driver had been named after a British explorer who stole the route from the native Mauri and claimed to have discovered it himself, I noticed the hard push of the wind and the continuous down pour occurring our safe haven (bus). It was at this point I decided to be happy with our decisions and stop focusing on cool rides I might be missing out on. It also helped when the bus driver explained that in the Haast Pass it rained an average of 6m a year… The rest of the bus ride passed much of the same way with stunning rainforest on both side and torrential downpour all around. About an hour out from Fox Glacier we stopped at a small Chinook salmon farm where I treated myself to a homemade scone with homemade jam and whipped cream. The salmon from the farm is sold throughout the south island and is apparently some of the tastier and environmentally friendly options in New Zealand.

After another hour on the bus we arrived at the small town of Fox Glacier and were left in the pouring rain to reassemble our bikes and push them up the hill to a backpackers hostel where we decided to spend our night. Many of the towns we will be stopping at along this now shorter west coast will have limited connection to the outside world. But for now Brian and I are headed for a little evening exploration of what Fox Glacier has to offer and maybe a little hot tub after. Day 3 200km down… by bus.

Day 2: Wanaka to Makaroa

                After being treated to the hospitality of a legend we took our ever slow departure from Wanaka to the small stopover of Makarora. Though we had been forecasted stormy conditions we exited Wanaka to beautiful blue skies and a nice cool breeze. Climbing the first few hills burned off some of the stiffness left by yesterday’s marathon and we coasted down the slopes a smile so big nothing could wipe it off. The second leg brought us out of the sheep covered hills to an absolutely breathtaking road along the side of Lake Hawea. Even though there were climbs nothing could break my spirit today, so naïve I am. Climbing to the neck we were greeted by our arch nemesis, strong head winds. But when biking up the nation on a limited time frame we could nothing more than take in more stunning views of the now Lake Wanaka and force are way through the headwinds determined not to let it break us. But the unrelenting winds were proving too much for us and Brian with his lingering head cold and his extra effort put in yesterday was the first to lose spirit. After almost in involuntary tears the day before, I knew I was going to have to be the one today to step up and stay positive just like he had done for me yesterday. And boy did I try, for almost 10km but the non-stop punishing we were getting from the wind broke me as well as I bellowed back it and swearing curses and wishing ill fortune on its very inanimate self. But like the warriors we are forced to become we pushed through and have arrived at our overnight stay, 9km past where we had excitedly thought we arrived, in Makarora. So as I sit here finishing this entry off around a warm fire as Johnny Cash plays ballads to my aching muscles, I think ever at the next day where we have been forced by 150km/h winds to hitch a ride on an intercity bus to our next stop. In closing I have another statement for our nemesis wind, “I hope that you feel the pain and burning of all our sore muscles and sunburnt hands for your blows delivered today and may you live with these pains and knowledge for the rest of your inanimate life.”

Cycling New Zealand Day 1: Queenstown to Wanaka

After much time and lots of loud arguments Brian and I finally took the road at our precise starting time of 1 hour later than planned. The road to this point was full of interesting surprises, both positive and negative but we finally got there. We left one of the most amazing houses I think I will ever have the chance to live in for a tent and the open world. What were we thinking???

                Today’s ride was going to be one of the toughest ad longest rides of the entire trip at a staggering 118km. We knew it be hard but boy I don’t think we were in for the true nature of this beast. At 10:30 we took our first of what would many breaks of the day; we were startled to find that we had already gone 26km into our journey. But as soon as our break had started it was already over, a quick drink of water and a protein bar, back on the road.

                The second leg of our journey brought us into the Gibbston Valley which is renowned in New Zealand for its wineries, and man was there a lot of them; we must have passed over twenty separate wineries all nestled in this stunning valley carved by the roaring Kuwarau River. With the third part of this journey we found ourselves down along the steep and narrow road roped along beside the river. A few days earlier I took a random journey with a few friends from Queenstown to Wanaka, today’s destination, and had the chance to scout the road we now found ourselves on and from that moment on I felt myself dreading every slight incline and hill that we had taken so effortlessly in the car. Although we did have to walk the bikes up some of the hills and make stops to rest our weary bodies; most of the fear I had been experiencing was I my head because before we knew it we were riding into Cromwell just after two o’clock a total of 65km behind us. We made a quick stop for some Subway and sooner than we would have liked we were back on the road towards Wanaka and Johan.

                Now I have done some things in my life that were physically taxing but these 53kms were easily the hardest experience I have ever put on my body. We left Cromwell into strong headwinds, our first of the trip, which left our flat journey beside the lake feel like we had just climbed a series of gruelling hills. It took so much out of us, mostly me Brian’s a beast, that after that short 18km our last 35km would take us over 3 hours to finish. I must say that despite our many arguments and disagreements I would have been sleeping beside that lake just 10km outside Cromwell if it were not for Brian’s constant encouragement and drive.

                The 115km and 10.5 hours we pedaled were worth every push when we rolled into Wanaka and ‘Brohans’ house that evening. The reason we call him ‘brohan’ is because this man is the ultimate ‘bro’ he welcomed us into his house with a hot shower, cold beer, and fresh fish and chips. I credit my entire day two to him and just want to reiterate how much of a legend this man is. Day down 118km!!