The plan goes well
- meet in Westport, midday 30 December, then cycle north to the road end and cycle back down to Lake Mahinapua, just south of Hokitika in eight days. The cyclists are Tony Malcolm, Fiona Baker, Sheley Coleman and I, returning to New Zealand for 5 months. We are also joined by non?cycling friends to see in the New Year, who leave us afterwards.
It's a warm sunny afternoon as we cycle to Granity, 26 km up the coast. The other three carrying little weight, whereas I, cycle touring for 4 months, carry full heavy panniers. At times I struggle to keep up, but meet up at regular intervals and for meals. Having cycled alone previously, I personally enjoy company and Tony's experience in cycle touring.
The road today is almost totally flat on a thin coastal strip, with hills steeply dropping down close to the road's edge. Animals graze the ugly slopes, cleared of natural trees. It's easy cycling and we camp at the beach and enjoy the sun and the few sandflies. A lookout gives excellent views along the rugged coast, with lots of ridges dropping steeply towards the sea and an indication of what to expect over the next week. Paul, a friend of Sheley's, loses his cutlery and eats his steak using a penknife and plastic teaspoon. Later on we build the first of many beach fires with the ample driftwood on the beach. We watch a glorious sunset, the sun casting longer reflections as it dips into the sea, lighting the hazy thin clouds on the horizon in bright colours, and with the waves breaking against rocks just out to sea. Above, clear skies to stargaze directly above.
Next day is 70 km long and involves our first major climbs. From Westport it's a no exit road, so we know we have to do all over again in a few days. We leave the coastal road for next the 35 km and head over two passes. View Hill is 420 metres high via a not too steep gradient and lined by dense lush rainforest. The steep slopes across the road are covered in nikau palms, fern trees and ferns, to mention a few. It's a case of not rushing, finding the best gear, and going at one's own pace, even if it means it takes longer. A gentle descent before the climb to Happy Valley Saddle (283 metres), then past Lake Hanlon where we stop for lunch. It's a typical tannin coloured small lake, home to lots of birds and so incredibly peaceful. Then back to the coast and an easy ride to the village of Karamea, through light drizzle that got heavier during the evening to spoil our New Year celebrations. No beach fire and we end up in a pub with several hundred others sheltering from the rain.
Tony wins the drinking game and spends half the night being sick. I head up by bike to look at the limestone arches at Oparara, reached via a 16 km long dirt track heading inland. The gravel corrugated road is rough in places, climbing high above the steeply gorged Oparara River. There are fantastic views from the top of the pass (though punishing on the legs), with endless summit ridges covered in dense rainforest. One arch is 43 metres high and huge, with large boulders that have dropped from its vertical face sitting in the river below. I also venture to the start of the Heaphy Track and view the untouched landscape and vegetation.
That evening the rain begins just as we were about to build a beach fire, so we cycle back in total darkness, wet and bedraggled. That is nothing compared to the downpour all next day as we climb back over the two passes in the most miserable weather possible. All my gear is soaked by the end of the day (so much for waterproof panniers!), and each descent is freezing cold as we speed down cautiously. Roadside drainage ditches flood carrying the road and slope runoffs. At least the roads are almost deserted. Fiona and I unintentionally cycle another 40 km, making 90 km for the day, as our site of planned camp wasn't clearly explained. Tony said "near Herbert", so we head into town, only to find out it was 20 km back up the road into strong wind and min. The other two have been sitting around a hot fire for the couple of hours that we spent on the road. Funny now but not at time, but we don't come to blows.
We stayed at Annie's Place ? a laid back, hippy type place, with a log fire and excellent chocolate caramel cake. It takes another three days to totally dry all my possessions. The rain ends after breakfast the next day so we pack up and continue south, soon enjoying warm sunshine. Some shopping back in Westport, lunch, then we head off along the really scenic road down towards Punakaiki, beside the Paparoa Mountain range which drops so spectacularly into the sea. We camp at Charlestown dud night, having completed 79 km, and light a fire inside the small cove. The sea outside the cove is in a rough mood, and huge waves pound the rocky coastline, sending the spray 15 metres into the air. Yet all is tranquil inside the well protected cove. There are plenty of blow holes here and wave erosion of the vertical walls of rock, which aren't as large as those as at Punakaiki.
Next morning there am a few hills, climbing 200 metres, to regain the coastal road 1 km north of Punakaiki, then the steep climb over Perpendicular Rock where the viewpoint before the summit is most welcome to break up the climb. The pleasure of cycling is in experiencing this scenery for longer than the speeding motorists, and listening to the sounds of nature all around ? the waves, wind, trees rustling and singing birds.
Like all tourists we venture to the blowholes and up the impressive Paparoa River valley with its vertical limestone walls just above the narrow green and lush valley floor. Rough camp is near Barrytown and another fire to mark the end of a shorter day of cycling, only 51 km, but we spent most of afternoon at Punakaiki. One rock explodes due to the heat of our fire and showers hot ash everywhere, including over us, but no damage. The rock, about 8 inches across, split into three with a mighty crack. We are now all qualified pyromaniacs! The night sky is near perfect and I lie outside my tent well into the night picking out star constellations, planets and shooting stars. Sandflies return with a vengeance the next morning and only the brave or foolish would venture out before they had to.
The road rolls along the coast for the next 15 km, over many headlands with a few steep climbs. Out to sea are lots of stacks and rocks cut off from the mainland and home to lots of seabirds. I stay for a while in Greymouth whilst the other three venture to Hokitika via the busiest section of road either side of Arthurs Pass turnoff, and pig out on whitebait and a 2 litre tub of ice cream. The trip ends at Lake Mahinapua, having completed over 400 km, not including the trip to the limestone arches.
That evening we mark the end of the trip in a typical West Coast pub (as it advertises itself). We all feel over dressed upon entry as everyone else is wearing ladies nightwear, an experience the boys enjoy more than the girls. Try as hard as he might, Tony can't find a spare dress to wear and ends tip sitting in a corner with us. Maybe he was asking the girls the wrong question, asking if they would get out of their clothes for himl!
The next day Tony and Sheley hitched back to Westport to collect the cars, and the next day we went our separate ways. I continued on alone, and to date (29.02.00) have completed just over 5,000 km. I completed the West Coast, tramped up the Copland Valley and over Gillespies Pass and visited Lake Crucible. Then completed the Rail Trail, Southern Scenic Route through the Catlins up to the Homer Tunnel, then climbed to Gertrudes Pass, a half days walk highly recommended for a birdseye view of Fiordland Peaks and the not?to?distant Milford Sound. Returned via Mavora Lakes to Queenstown, then over Lindis Pass and am at present in Christchurch. It hasn't been the best of cycling weather this year ? very unsettled with lots of rain and headwinds, but the scenery always makes the effort worthwhile.
I enjoyed the visit to the club evening at the start of February and wish everyone safe tramping. Maybe I will return again in a couple of years. A big thanks also to Chris Wells who drove me all the way from Dunedin to Hokitika so I could join up with the other three.
Stuart Hoskin
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