Total Elapsed Time: 15 days/13 hours/20 mins

Distance: 2906 km

Ascent: 31,329m

So, the pieces came together and Mike the Bike and I found ourselves loaded up in Kaitaia, ready to head north to the Cape for the annual Tour Aotearoa brevet. First was the ‘warm up’ ride to the start. I possibly underestimated this – a 120km/1300vm effort probably wasn’t ideal for the day before the main event.  But I met up with some fellow TA riders and made the pilgrimage to the Cape lighthouse before backtracking to join the growing throng of riders congregating at Tapotupotu camp, 5km south of Cape Reinga. 

It was a pre-dawn start the next morning as we retraced the route back to Cape Reinga for a 7am start.  Then we are off in a frenzy of pedalling up and down rolling climbs, before dropping into Te Paki stream and splashing our way out to the coast and on to Ninety Mile Beach.  Plugging along for hours down the length of the beach was when I first realised the joys of aerobars – speed, comfort, less wind resistance … perfect along the hardpacked, dead flat sand, which made this notorious stretch far more enjoyable than I had anticipated.  I was happy to finish in Rawene, setting me up for an easier day two and ensuring I was on target to jump on the earliest (& one of only two) Kaipara ferry crossing.

Conditions were hot and humid as I skirted the big city (Auckland). The first major ‘oh shit’ moment came when I realised the loading and unloading of bikes for the ferry crossing had bent Mike’s derailleur hangar, messing with shifting and limiting available gears. Then my GPS chose this moment to fail, eeek.  And I found that insomnia really isn’t improved with the addition of physical exhaustion. It was good to meet up with George, another TA rider, to help with navigation out of Auckland & for company as we pushed into a frisky headwind. 

George swung off to a pre-booked motel room at Paeroa and I continued alone to Te Aroha. Next morning I packed and set off into light drizzle, picking up a phone mount and substantial supply of butt cream at a bike shop in Matamata. Also confirmed a slight bend in bike derailleur, but given my lack of a spare decided not to mess with it. 

I pushed on for an overnight stop at a cabin in Pureora, happy to dodge the worst of the afternoon rain and catch up on some sleep. My planets were clearly in alignment the following morning as I plugged in some tunes and cruised up the Timber Trail, grooving on through Taumuranui, feeling surprisingly good. My frame bag was working hard to contain the selection of baked goods I needed to propel me to the Bridge to Nowhere before the jetboat ride along the Wanganui River. The Mountain to Sea ride to Mangapurua Landing was easier than expected, so I had a big chunk of wait time for my pre-booked boat ride. 

Once off the boat in Pipiriki I didn’t expect to make it to Wanganui, but just kept pedalling and rocked up just before dark.  A rush of blood to the legs meant I clocked a couple of biggish days, first to Palmerston North and then another into Wellington, changing my ferry booking (again) to jump on a 2am crossing.

After mostly riding solo, it was nice to meet up with the ‘fast guys’ in Martinborough and tag on to them for the ride into Wellington.  A looonngg wait to board the ferry and a very short nap, and we’re in Picton. Hello, South Island.  We stick together until Havelock, but once we reach the ascent of the dreaded Maungatapu Saddle Ben rides away & I’m on my own again.  It was a tough day, lots of pushing – both up hill and down. I called it early, finding a room in Wakefield and crashing out.

The next day was better – I almost stopped in Murchison, but decided it was too early and continued over Maruia Saddle – a beautiful, peaceful ascent through beech forest. With no accommodation options in sight I eventually asked to camp on private property, lovely.  The next day was big – literally. The Big River route was in shitty condition after multiple recent heavy downpours and strong winds.  Lots of hike-a-bike and non-optional bike wrestling episodes negotiating landslides and fallen trees. 

Next up was the West Coast Wilderness trail, a day of limited and poorly judged food options. I struggled towards Ross on the smell of an empty Clif bar wrapper, saved by the Treetop Walk and Cafe. Onwards to a lakeside bush camp where I experienced a spectacular overnight thunder and lightning storm combined with torrential rain from the comfort of my tiny, frail tent. 

The wet night extended into possibly the wettest day I have ever experienced on a bike – starting with a soggy pre-dawn pack up, then continuing a non-stop downpour as I spent 11 sodden hours squelching my way south.  Repayment came the following day. I had a slow start, reluctant to climb into the gloom of Haast Pass. But the day cleared into stunning sunny conditions with a most excellent tailwind … it was absolutely perfect riding to Lake Wanaka. Then I started getting word of deteriorating weather conditions ahead -a ‘weather bomb’ bringing howling southerly winds, icy conditions and snow up high. Uh oh – I decided I needed to get my butt over the Crown Range asap – it made for a long day but it was sensational to roll up in Queenstown just on dark, the finish line in sight! 

It was teeming rain as I boarded the ferry across Lake Wakatipu to Walter Peak the next morning. Once off the ferry I huddled in the public loo for a while, adding layers and waterproofs and trying to summon up enthusiasm for the long soggy slog ahead. It was hard to stay warm and it wasn’t until I reached Mossburn and the sealed road that a tailwind kicked in and I started to sense that a push all the way to Bluff was possible.

With my iPod battery dead, it was mind games all the way across this last flat and featureless section, dodging showers until I reached the outskirts of Invercargill. Once you get to this point there is no way you’re going to stop – I homed in on Stirling Point – arriving just on dark. Any sense of euphoria was completely absent – I was alone, it was getting dark, blowing a gale and bloody freezing. A passing tourist offered to take my finish photo. Like so many TA riders before me I then retreated to the little campground & tried to catch some zzz on the floor of the camp kitchen. Unable to sleep, I jumped online and booked some accommodation in Invercargill. The next morning it starts to sink in, it’s all over – and I ride back to the oasis of Invercargill, endless coffee, food that hasn’t spent many hours stuffed in a frame bag, and sleep, yay!