Perhaps that exclamation mark makes it look like I'm surprised that I survived my bike trip to Wellington, which doesn't exactly speak well of my sanity or sense of self-preservation. I never thought I would die, of course, but I will say that there were times that I thought the trip might be a really, really stupid idea. Mainly because, after biking only a handful of times in the past few months, I'm not precisely fit. Biking over 50 miles in a day is easier when one actually has the leg muscles for it, I expect. Hills do not make it any easier.
But I did make it! On Monday I left later than planned, and from Stoke rather than Orinoco, after derailleur adjustments got delayed, and a bike rack needed components to attach to my bike. I set off at approximately 1:12pm, eagerness outwaying apprehension. Unfortunately, with an inauspicious headwind greeting me right from the start, my confidence quickly plummeted. It also demonstrated that in its own way wind can be worse than hills for a cyclist. Luckily, my stubbornness outweighed any self-doubt, which is an advantage to being pig-headed. About an hour later I had made it around the coast and was facing a very tall hill after turning inland. Unfortunately (or fortunately) while we were driving over this same hill on the way to Okiwi Bay I had fallen asleep in both directions, so I only had the haziest idea of precisely how endless and twisty it is. It is very endless and twisty. I think what got me up it was both stubbornness and a sense of superiority to the vehicles that were passing by, who were not enjoying the scenery in the same intimate way that I was experiencing it. Of course, they probably thought I was insane. But the scenery only become more stunning as the road climbs, especially where native bush has been preserved from pine forestry.
Still, climbing endlessly isn't exactly wonderfully enjoyable, and after I reached the Rai Saddle (the highest point on the road) around 5:30, I literally burst into song. The main theme of the genius lyrics that I composed during my descent was 'I made it' repeated quite a few times, along with a melody that probably owed most of its structure to the influence of musical theater, particularly 'Into the Woods'. It will never be repeated, but it was incredibly satisfying.
From there on the trip was mostly downhill, through the Pelorus Valley following the river of the same name. The strip of relatively flat farmland that I biked through was bordered on either side by hills rising steeply from the valley floor, usually covered in the ubiquitous pine trees (weirdly, on the way to Rai Valley I saw a particular tree labelled 'Douglas Fir, Planted 1966. Why is this tree special? Because its older than any of the other trees grown to be harvested? But I digress). It was lovely and scenic and, most importantly, mainly downhill or flat. It was certainly the most enjoyable part of the trip from Stoke to Havelock which is, by the way, the green lip mussel capital of the world. So now you know, in case anyone asks.
By the time I caught my first sight of Havelock, at 7:36pm, I was incredibly ready to be done for the day. Even biking through the lovely pastoral countryside was not quite enough to make me forget that I had been biking for over six hours with only the occasional short break. This, by the way, is not quite the best way to bike tour. Next time I will go slower, take some of the mysterious tracks leading off from the main road, have a nice lunch. I will also bring bug repellant, take a map, consider camping, and have a better bike. Still, despite my mistakes, when I pulled into the hostel twenty minutes after my first sight of Havelock it was a beautiful evening with the sun setting over the Sounds, and I had gotten through and even enjoyed myself. I had seen beautiful native bush, a wild mountain goat, geodesic markers, weird art on road signs, waterfalls, big trucks, desperate flowers holding on for their lives on hillsides, picnic areas, tempting sidetracks, baby pukekoes, and much more. And all at a speed where I could really enjoy them.And the next day I only had twenty miles to go to get to Picton!
No comments:
Post a Comment