1/10/07
We are sitting inside the community kitchen/dining area of our tent/hostel watching the rain after a couple of delightful riding days through pine plantations, past steaming geothermal springs, up long climbs, down a few speedy descents, chatting with the many cows and sheep we saw. The flowers and bushes are blooming along the roadside: huge butterfly bushes, daisies and foxglove among others. Traffic is heavy at times, but fairly polite, especially as they pass very far around our flag hung out to the side of our bike on a long stick – our protection from the “line huggers” - most Kiwi drivers.
Our mornings begin about 8 am and after about 2 hours we are lured into some local spot for a second cup of coffee and a sweet piece of cake with a side of whipped cream or a kiwi pie: a small pie shaped pastry with sweet or savory fillings from chicken butter (a creamy chicken flavored paste) to dates, berries, eggs, cheese or any combination that sparks the imagination. The road can appear empty except for the cheerful coffee cup signs scattered along announcing the Kiwi's civilized practice of nibbling at cafes any time of day or evening. This is quite a change from the Latin American restaurants which served up next to no breakfast, lunch after 2 and dinner after 8 or 9 pm. New Zealand fits our American life style much better.
We have been riding to and circling crater lakes: Rotorua and Taupo. The stream feeding these lakes run fast and clean and the thermal activity seems to be everywhere with many new cauldrons of plopping mud and sulfurous steaming pools created as recently as 2001 when boulders and geysers provided hours of fireworks for locals. The area around Rotorua has a very thin layer of earth above the molten center. Some of the local campgrounds tout heated tent sites and almost every accommodation comes complete with a natural hot mineral spa. Much of the energy is provided by steam tapped from the thermal activity close to earth's surface in this area.
1/13
Over the last three days we have progressed from Turangi, where we hooked up with two Scottish bikers, Martin and Louise, to ride through the rugged central highlands/mountains of the north island. Out of Turangi we climbed 6.5 km up over a saddle in mist and rain, dense vegetation, streams and waterfalls ran next to the wet and slippery road. Martin and Louise on more lightly loaded mountain bikes, soon rode away from us and disappeared over the mountain. We stopped halfway up so I could use my puffer (Art's asthma medication) and so we could enjoy the glorious views back over the lake – not! Streams of water poured through our new helmets and down our faces. Over the top and further into the high country the rain lessened as we passed many horses staked out singly alongside the highway to free range graze.
A cup of coffee warmed us up while we discussed the area with the owner of the ski rental and outdoor shop. We looked at topo maps and pictures of the three volcanic mountains up ahead we might or might not be able to see. Back up the road and out of the forest and into the open brush country surrounding the volcanoes it looked like we were sort of back in the high Altiplano or southern Patagonia: low brush and scrub grass for miles and the mountain tops covered by clouds with only peeks of snow covered flanks popping through the cloud cover. We lunched beside the road watching the mountains, then rode into the National Park where we decide to shove on another 32 km to the village of Raetihi. Rolling over the open country under a thin cloud cover was smooth and easy. We found Martin and Louise sitting outside the ice cream store trying to decide to stay in town or push on. We decide to stay after I had a great two scoops cone. Down the street a couple of hundred yards we found a wonderful small campground ($22NZ) new kitchen and shower. We cooked on the barbee and beat the rain to bed. Woke up to the sprinkling rain – do we ride? Yes! We fix breakfast, clean up and guess what? It starts to really rain. We sit and read until around 10 when the rain lets up. We quickly pack up and are off by 10:30.
The ride today is down the Wanganui River road. On the north island this is one of the only areas of primeval forest left: dark, dense, with huge mature old growth oaks, beech, filled in with tree ferns and under brush in every shade and hue of green. We rode down, down for many kilometers again crossing streams and hearing waterfalls in the roadside under brush. The deeper we got the more prehistoric the mystery jungle felt. Soon we were both looking for dinosaurs right out of Jurassic Park. We hit the village of Pipiriki where we got a snack lunch: Judee had mince pie and me, a hot dog (meat on a stick dipped in batter). The road had turned to gravel. After the 11 kilometers we have already traveled on gravel, we were told it would continue for another 25km or more. This road surface is loose and poses a challenge, added to the steep up and down hills with little or no flats. It is very humid and wet. We are dripping. Our clothes become soaked when it begins again to rain in earnest.
Now we are “slip sliding away” as we hit pavement again and decide to look for a place to put in for the night out of the pouring rain. The place we want to stay, the Flying Fox, must have reservations so they may meet you to arrange crossing, since they are on the other side of the river – no bridge, only a boat or cable ride to get across. We stop at a number of farm houses to see if someone will call for us. No luck by the time we reach the place, so we back tracked 2km to a farm stay, Operiki run by Peter and Trissa McIntyre. How lucky we were – a great place. Peter welcomed us in and showed us around offering hot tea and a snack, followed by beer and good conversation with the young Dutch couple also staying there, while Trissa whipped up a mouth watering fish and shrimp stew pot, vegetables and salad from the garden. To top it off: home made ice cream and fruit salad. We all shared stories on the side porch for hours while the night closed in on us. Trissa again outdid herself at breakfast with eggs, bacon and toast. Homemade jams and honey to go with our coffee , everything served was fresh from the garden or off the farm.
Today it started out with a high overcast of clouds with rain predicted for the afternoon. Two kilometers up the road I notice a noise from the front wheel. On inspection we found a ripped side wall in our rather new tire, so had to put on the old spare we have been carrying. Winding up and down the steep valley walls high above the river at times or rushing down across tributary steams joining the river, around the corner on the narrow road comes a huge herd of sheep. They looked like a wool white blanket coming up the road from side fence to side fence and part around us flowing smoothly along our sides. This is followed up the road by a long 2.5 km climb up out of the river valley and over to a major highway where we ride the remaining 14km into Wanganui for the night.
1-14
Waiting in Marton for the train to Wellington, thinking of what a gorgeous garden camp we had last night at the hostel. I was reminiscing about the dry, dusty camp sights we had all through Latin American, how dirty our gear would get and here on the soft grass, the tent stays clean. The rain means we often pack wet, but the hot, brilliant sun drys everything to crisp in only a few moments. The accommodations come with everything: kitchens with stoves, hot water makers, toaster, microwaves, etc. etc., all the pots and pans, dishes, glasses and utensils for many people to prepare their meals. There are lovely bath and toilet facilities – all immaculate. Chile and Argentina had some similar hostels, some with very high standards, but none of those can really compare to NZ – so spotless and well equipped. Today as I stopped to use a toilet at a gas station, I recalled some pretty horrible conditions in LA, where it was much more enticing to 'go' in the wild.
The ride today was out of the lovely town of Wanganui, where we visited the extremely interesting and high quality local art gallery and climbed 170 steps after being 'elevated' into a monument to WW1 soldiers and lapped up a vista over river, city and local hills. The downtown sidewalks were festooned with huge begonias spilling out of overhead baskets and street side planters. Local pride is five star.
Our ride to Marton is what I expected of NZ: green rolling hills covered with sheep. There is an English/Scottish heritage celebrated in the small towns and villages.
1/17
We have been folded into the arms and lives of Rick and Leslie Haines-Wells, our exceptional hosts housed in an 'eagles nest' across from Wellington Harbor. The sun pours in through skylights and spot lights various cityscapes, islands and small bays around this spectacular seaside setting. We arrived in Wellington on the 14th by evening train and spent the15th in the Te Papa museum, a new and controversial addition to Wellington. In the afternoon, we took a 25 minute ferry across the bay and arrived at Rick and Leslie's doorstep around 5pm. When no one answered our knock, we wandered to the neighbor's, Jo, who invited us in, gave us limeade and ultimately fed Leslie and ourselves later that evening. The meal prepared from home grown vegetables was a delicious introduction to life in Day's Bay! Neighbors are more than friends in this NZ suburb. During our visit, Leslie and Jo promoted the local wool industry and encouraged me (Judee) to try some of the Ice Breaker Marino wool clothing – which I promptly purchased the next day!
Yesterday (1/16) Rick guided us around the Hutt Valley, Wellington city, and bay side drives. He assisted us by delivering Bici to a local bike doctor to check out our faulty shifting problems and we ended our perfect day of shopping (the Ice Breaker clothing) and gallery gazing with Leslie feeding us superb salmon steaks accompanied by lovely vegetables (corn, potatoes, salad). Her daughter and son dropped by at the end of the evening and everyone contributed suggestions of possible places to visit on the south island – our next destination.
Today, we are going to retrieve Bici and ferry to Wellington and then to the south island. Rick has made arrangements to come with us and take us through the Marlborough Sounds on his boat. How can we be so blessed?
1/19
I am recovering from a clumsy dismount from Rick's boat, yesterday. Although my leg is quite swollen and sore – NOTHING can taint the adventure Rick treated us to touring the Marlborough Sounds in his boat. The best part: Rick worked out the weather just right so we enjoyed blue, blue skies, light winds, and smooth seas.
The water, even in the harbors, is clean and clear, the colors from green to blue. There is sooo much water that as we would circle the end of an island, huge bodies of water would open up. This area is open sea (the Cooks Straight) dappled by islands and land mass areas that extend a myriad of fingers or peninsulas into the water creating small bays and sounds. The shore lines are sparsely spotted with batches (vacation homes), some accommodations (cabins, camping), and restaurants, some fairly elegant, where boats large and small can tie up and drop off guests at jetties.
We visited Montuara Island, a nature sanctuary, protected by the DOC (Department of Conservation) where native plants and wildlife, mostly birds, have been re-introduced. We saw Fantails, Saddle backs, NZ Robins, a Blue Penguin chick in a man-made nesting box and if it were nighttime we could possibly have seen a Kiwi! The trees were filled with cicadas, a smaller variety than our Ohio cicada, but equally as loud. The next stop was at a recently re-done DOC site to commemorate the harbor where Captain Cook stopped to repair his ships and replenish his supplies on five different explorations back in the 1700's. We not only marveled at the seafaring discoverers fortitude and fearlessness but also at the beautifully designed site that created boat shapes out of picnic tables and benches, gorgeous steelwork and bridges as well as providing history of the Maori, indigenous people who were here before Cook.
After we oohed and aahed over the beautifully constructed 'loos' we re-boarded the boat and headed to Furneaux Lodge, a resort where Rick and Leslie were married. From this location, they tramped from four days back to civilization. Rick pointed out many, many tramping routes over and through the ridges and ravines. In NZ, tramping (backpacking) is the most popular sport engaged by almost everyone.
There are 4 million people living in in NZ. One million in Auckland, one mil on the south island and the rest scattered all over the north island. The land mass is larger than England with a much smaller population – so the out-of-doors is a huge part of the Kiwi's life. It is cool – cooler that other summers, we've been told – about 60 degrees in the shade or under a cloud. This suits Kiwi's just fine and they leave doors and windows open and head off downtown or outside in shirt sleeves and shorts: a most hardy lot! We learned a tremendous amount from Leslie and Rick who work in immigration and design fields respectively, ambitiously work toward increasing NZ's presence in the global economy.
We are staying in the little harbor town of Picton: population of 2-3,000 tightly surrounded by huge hills, some might even call mountains. Pristine and clean, as usual in Kiwi land, even the historic buildings have fresh coats of paint and dogs are not allowed on the sidewalks downtown. The harbor is filled with water taxis, barges to ferry supplies, butt up against huge inter-coastal ferries. Visitors are treated to mail post tours, drop-offs to tramps in the sounds, and a myriad of sight-seeing opportunities. We are just relaxing in a hammock on the porch of our backpacker's hostel and attempting to handle problems in the states that are coming to light since we were robbed in Mendoza, Argentina and our credit cards were canceled. Some of the automatic payments have not been working and no one contacted us – until things were critical. This is an interesting complication that long term absences create.
Because much of these problems center around my mom, I called and spoke with her. It breaks my heart when she doesn't seem to know me. She has become increasingly frail and doesn't seem to hear well at all. We were planning on going back to Los Angeles in the fall to have a couple months with her, but we may move that date forward and go in the summer. I don't think there is much I can do to make her feel any better or add to the excellent care she is getting – but maybe a visit would help me!
1/22
Nelson. A city by the sea, tucked into a snug harbor surrounded by high hills with houses dotted up the sides. Parks, parks and more parks. We stopped on the way in to explore a fascinating Japanese garden then on to the Founders Park and an old car and antique show set in a recreated village of early Nelson - buildings moved to the park. We wandered the curving streets, watched a 50's /60's fashion show, scoped out the old cars and inspected the early life style of Nelson. On to the grocery and to our motor camp where we got a grassy spot in the woods for $30NZ per site for tents.
Two days ago we were in a DOC camp cabin ($35NZ – provide your own linens), good kitchen and showers hidden in the woods next to a rushing river. We sat on the porch, read, and listened to the cicadas. The next morning we started off to Nelson rolling through beautiful valley, farms on the bottom and logging on the hills. Past small villages and then two long steep climbs with winding down hills. The climbs in NZ are the 2-5km kind that have us grinding away in our lowest gear, very slow going up but good views, most of the time a good shoulder, but we do thank god for our out-stretched flag as the cars and trucks zoom past.
1.old car in Founders park, Nelson
2. iced leg |
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Today is bright and sunny, not a cloud in the sky. It will be hot this afternoon. Rang up a dentist recommended by our camp host and have an appointment at 11:30 to have my broken molar fixed (It was part of a bridge – no pain, and a little rounding off fixed the problem, for now). Then we will explore downtown Nelson, go to the internet, grocery, do some gift shopping and get back so Judee can get her still very swollen leg iced up.
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