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.