Kaka Point to Dunedin – 75 miles

1 January 2017

1/1/2017
Kaka Point to Dunedin

Happy New Zealand New Year! I feel like I am in the future because all my loved ones are up to a whole day behind me.

My first and only sight for the day was Nugget Point. It was supposed to also include spotting yellow-eyed penguins from the Roaring Bay hide shack, but no penguins. There were a bunch of fur seals to the far side of the bay, which likely contribute to the lack of daytime penguin sightings since they should be nesting babies this time of year. It was a nice hike up to the lighthouse looking over the “nuggets” or all the tiny rock islands poking up from the point. The best part was that I left most of my bike load at the campground. It was a fast 12 miles without all the weight I normally have.

I then rode to Balclutha. 26 miles I should have accomplished yesterday. I likely would have seen penguins if I had gone last night. As I was turning up the road north I remembered that this stretch heading south was some of the worst head winds. No surprise then that I again had some of the worst head winds. It’s like the puppet master pulling the weather strings sees a cyclist and says, “yeah, let’s ruin that person’s day!” I am literally traveling on the same road but in the opposite direction as my ride south, I am supposed to have tail winds! I stopped at the Captain’s Cafe and Bar for lunch. Really nice lunch special of some local brand of fish. Trying to get in my fish options before leaving the country. I then found everything closed, but New World Market was open and they had an iPhone cable, since mine broke last night. Unfortunately no allergy medicine though. My eyes itch with an annoying fierceness and my nose has taken to running.

Onward to Dunedin. I forgot how sore my bottom was from riding long distances without all the stopping for fun side trips. I made it to Dunedin just in time to catch the last spot on the last tour of the day at the Cadbury World chocolate factory. So much chocolate! They literally give you a whole bag of chocolates. As well as a cup to drink as much liquid chocolate as you want while on the tour. And it ends with a ridiculous giant chocolate fountain pouring down the center of an old silo. It was a pretty cool tour altogether. I wish I had caught the Speights Brewery tour after that but no luck.

I am staying at the On Top Backpackers. Apparently everything is closed in Dunedin today too. No pharmacy was open, the camp ground I wanted was closed, and the first hostel up a big hill was booked out. There also weren’t any bike shops open, which I will have to stop at tomorrow. My low gears have decided to stop being functional. Which really makes hills a disappointment when I down-shift and the chain catches causing the pedals to lock up (second gear) or nothing happens at all except an annoying clicking sound (first gear). I am dying of this hay fever business too. It is seriously making breathing a challenge. Bitter sweet thoughts about this vacation ending.

I had a really nice and very filling feast for supper on Indian food. I may need to designate a new food group just for naan. Nice quiet eatery though. The hostel is relatively busy and I am not in a socializing mood. Boo to my allergy-induced poor mood!

The hostel is relatively nice to be in. It has free wifi, a large common area with comfy couches, and breakfast in the AM. My room is hot though, not sure how that will go with my wheezing…

McLean Falls to Kaka Point – 52 miles

31 December 2016

12/31/2016
McLean Falls to Kaka Point – 52 miles

What a jam packed day! I had a slow start to the day because I ran out of allergy medicine and forgot to look for some in Invercargill. I was up all night with a clogged sinus and crusty eyes. It was the first time I have camped with a full campground too. I wasn’t prepared for the constant rustling of human activity late into the night. Regardless, a slow start. I did catch a bit of luck in the Whistling Frog Cafe, I stopped in for a coffee and one of the waitresses had a homeopathic hay fever serum. I don’t really know if it helped, but I felt better today than I did at any moment last night.

My first stop was Cathedral Caves, of the largest beach sea caves on Earth at 199 meters of total passage length. As I am in the same general area as yesterday, it makes sense that the beds dipping inland here are of a similar Jurassic sandstone as the petrified forest in Curio Bay. Though obviously the cave has formed over the last tens to hundreds of thousand years from the mechanical erosion and collapse of the rock. Sub-vertical joint sets orthogonal to the bedding enable the waves to create large, blocky passage cross-sections. My timing was perfect, I arrived right at the lowest tide, so I was able to walk all the way into the back of the cave and out its second entrance. The passage profiles are quite large. The first entrance is about 10 meters across and 20 meters tall, while the second entrance is 15×15 meters. They were once two separate caves that eventually connected. The waves continue to erode a single back passage.

Then I rode to Lake Wilkie, a rare memory from the last ice age some 13,000 years ago left behind as a lake. It was mostly just a nice nature walk. But there was a simple yet effective series of informative boards showing how the mature podocarp forest is slowly reclaiming the lake.

Then I stopped at Tautuka Beach. It has a spectacular bay backed by forest. And is clearly a popular spot for surfing and beach driving. I almost wanted a vehicle so I too could go racing down the beach. I note this beach only because immediately after standing at sea level I rode up the beefy Florence Hill overlooking that bay. Beautiful views and literally breathtaking. I was sweating profusely by the top.

I then rode on to Papatowai Settlement and stumbled upon the Lost Gypsy Gizmo Gallery. Incredible little place! They even had a small coffee stand. The owner of this place makes mechanical trinkets, like hundreds, if not a thousand of them. They fill a small boxcar and have continued into the gardens around the place. There is even a back area with larger mechanical wonders. All interactive too. I loved it! I rode down to the Papatowai Picnic Point Forest because they have public toilets, and found a one day only children’s carnival. It was so cute. I didn’t stay.

I continued up another beefy climb to Matai Falls and Horseshoe Falls. Nothing special, but I like waterfalls. It did lead me to opt to head to Purakaunui Falls, which required gravel road travel. But you know what, that gravel road was beautifully level and not covered in deep shifting gravel. Though I probably liked it most because I really only saw a handful of vehicles on the whole stretch. Purakaunui Falls were also fantastic! Very iconic wide, tiered falls.

I then continued the gravel travel out to Jack’s Blowhole. Named after the Maori chief Tuhawaiki, or Bloody Jack, this is basically a sea cave like I saw this morning except the ceiling has completely collapsed. The result is that 200 meters inland, there is this giant blowhole. The sign says it is a 68 meter wide opening that is 55 meters deep. Tide was still relatively low while I was there and I could see sunlight shining through its 144 meters of tunnel to the sea. It was well worth the extra 14 miles of gravel!

I wandered into the town of Owaka next. Unfortunately it was evening by then, because they would have had a pharmacy. Hopefully Balclutha can provide the saving elixir for hay fever! Anyway, I missed out on a lot of cool sounding stuff because everything was closed. I at least had a really nice meal from Lumberjack Bar and Restaurant. The whole place basically reserved for supper parties, but they set me up at the main bar. Pan fried Blue Cod, cheesy scalloped potatoes, and seasonal veggies. I really wanted dessert but knew it would make the ride out too difficult. It was delicious and the staff were extremely friendly.

I probably should have set off for Balclutha, but instead rode to Kaka Point. A small sea side village overlooking Molyneaux Bay. It is a beautiful and scenic route to take up to Balclutha. The reason I set off to add even more miles is because I really want to see Roaring Bay and Nugget Point at the southernmost edge from Kaka Point. There are so many fantastic sights to see along the coast here, but the road isn’t actually along the coast because the bluffs are tall and not continuous. So every place I want to visit requires a lengthy side route out to the coast, then back to the scenic highway, up a short way, and back out to the coast. It has made a long day, but a day worth every mile. And I refuse to skip these last views just because it means a longer day tomorrow.

Back to topic, I am staying at the Kaka Point Camping Ground. When I rode in they had just made the call that no one else could fit, but they saw me on my bicycle and made an exception. Much to my great relief! If they hadn’t taken me, and I couldn’t find a hotel in Kaka Point, I would have been forced to ride an additional 14 miles to Balclutha. And after I already mentioned that I wasn’t skipping Nugget Point, I would have needed to go there first, meaning an additional 12 miles, for 26 miles total. It would have been really dark and raining (as it is raining right now, and I suspect I wouldn’t have made it yet). All the little side trips take up a bunch of time, I hardly made any distance today.

Happy New Year’s Eve! It is about 22:30 and I am heading to sleep. My mom gave me new year advice from her mother, and it is to not do anything for New Years that you wouldn’t want to spend the rest of the year doing. I feel pretty good about getting some good sleep and adventuring about. 2017 should be a good year for me!

Invercargill to McLean Falls – 76 miles

30 December 2016

12/30/2016
Invercargill to McLean Falls – 76 miles

After a good night’s rest I woke ready for the rest of this bike adventure. I took a shower, ate breaky, watched a cartoon, and headed off. I stopped at a random mine that was closed but advertised a cafe. It was also closed but a really nice English couple pulled up at the same time. They were super interested in my trip and how light my bike was packed. If the cafe had been open, I suspect they would have chatted a long while. Nice people. My first checkpoint was the town of Fortrose. It marks the first restaurant into the Catlins. I stopped for a coffee and picked up a Catlins tourist map. To my great fortune, the map included road types letting me prepared for gravel versus paved routes. My route was set, but it was nice to know that every vista was accessed via gravel road and that this leg of the tourist route also contained a 14 km gravel road.

My first stop was Waipapa Point Lighthouse. It was recommended because usually there are heaps of sea lions and fur seals. I only saw one sea lion way off from the lookout. But it was beautiful. I really like lighthouses. New Zealand’s lighthouses are no longer occupied by people, so now they are tourist stops.

The gravel road was just over 6 miles round trip. And it really got me thinking about vehicles on the road with cyclists. I am on a tourist road. There is the scenic highway and then there is this road, which links all the extra sights. Locals are easy to spot, they drive really slow when they see me, tend to nod my way, and usually are in a farming vehicle. They are very familiar with this winding road that is all gravel for the majority of its length. Then there are the tourists. They are usually driving fast, hardly slowing down while approaching me unless they become ostuck behind me as two vehicles try to pass. They don’t always nod, and in fact I feel like some are actually grimacing my way. It took me riding down the lighthouse road to realize this distinction. My presence on the road apparently causes too much delay in the busy agendas of the tourists around me.

That thought really sticks with me. I am among these tourists, and I have my deadlines too, but seriously they are in vehicles. The one minute of delay that I may cause them (if it is even a whole minute) can easily be made up or lost without significantly affecting the speed at which the drivers are moving along this road. My progress, however, is significantly impeded because I cannot risk riding fast for the worry that the next vehicle will speed wide around a bend and force my path off the narrow tire tread. In the whole 14 miles or so of gravel travel, I held my own well enough to only slide out once. No injury or harm done, but it kept me on edge. As difficult enough as it is to ride slick tires on gravel, I also had a fair amount of topography to the road, and the impatient tourists as described above. Since I have panniers, the back half of my bike is imbalanced and any loss of control could result in a slide. I didn’t even fall over, I haven’t fallen over yet from not clipping out fast enough [**knock** on wood]. But the bike still pulled itself down the slope as the slope of the road and depth of gravel reached the limit of my bicycle traction. Anyway, this long saga is to say that if all the tourists, cyclists should be the most reasonably impatient since any delay truly equals a delay. There isn’t really a great way to make up time while cycling except to stop less, which is not a very touristy thing to do.

I did ultimately decide to skip Slope Point, the southernmost Point on South Island. I decided the additional 8 miles of gravel with a big hill weren’t necessary. I have already been to Stewart Island, so I have been way further south in New Zealand than Slope Point. It was supposed to have nice views though.

Curio Bay I made sure not to miss. And it was a lovely break. There is a 180 million year old (Jurassic time frame) fossil forest preserved from ash fall. The wave cut beach rock reveals the fossilized wood. And it now provides stunning wave-crashing bluffs to take photos from. I took a long break lying on the beach in Curio Bay. At long last I finally am on the beach in my bikini enjoying the sun! I only gave myself an hour of sun time, though. Besides my left shoulder and knees being really tan, made all the more absurd by the stark lines from my jersey and shorts, the rest of my body looks questionably of albinism. I didn’t want to turn into a lobster. I am just beginning to peel from my very first day on this bike trip, so soon I will be fully pale again.

From Curio Bay I was back on pavement and as I headed toward Waikawa, I saw a lone penguin standing up on a rock in the water, arms spread, obviously dreaming about what it would be like to fly. I could understand the desire.

I next stopped in the tint settlement of Niagara for two reasons. The first being the Niagara Falls Cafe, and it did not disappoint. It was the exact quiet and lovely place I wanted to be. I sat in a warm sunny spot by the window overlooking a thriving garden. The cafe used to be the Niagara Falls schoolhouse, built in 1893, before it shut down in 1972 when the mill shut down. Niagara Falls is named in jest after the North American Niagara Falls, for the tiny waterfall at the river where settlers would take their wool to send down river to Wiakawa where it was shipped off. The sign advertises for the world’s smallest waterfall. I love the humor.

From Niagara I continued all the way to Catlins Kiwi Holiday Park where I am camped out tonight. It is the only camping point since I left Waikawa, so you can imagine that the whole place is booked out. But they let people put tents wherever they find a spot, so I was ok. The reason I wanted to stop here was to have supper at the Whistling Frog Cafe and Bar and to catch an evening view of the McLean Falls, New Zealand’s tallest falls at 22 meters. I have been searching for a milkshake and the cafe had them! I cannot describe how delighted I was to finally have a milkshake. In that food venture, I forgot about the 3km walk just to get to the falls car park on top of the 40 min round trip walk. I arrived at the falls after sunset, too dark to snap twilight lighting. It was still a neat sight. No glowworms came out though. I hoped I might at least see then on the walk back. It was probably slightly too light out for them yet. The worst of both ends of the stick. A nice part was that some German guys who were also still down there gave me a ride back to the campground.

Noisy campground, but off the bed!

Leaving Stewart Island

29 December 2016

12/29/2016
Leaving Stewart Island

I slept well! I woke up feeling happy. I finished gathering my things and packed them onto my bike, ready for my departure whenever necessary. I went to the South Sea restaurant for breaky and sat around a long while staring out the window. The weather is finally calm today. Though there were occasional rain showers. I have a hotel in Invercargill booked for tonight, my ferry ticket paid for, and a shuttle to return my bike and me to the city. I even have the bus from Oamaru to Christchurch settled and my route back tallied. The remaining days are few.

For my last adventure on Stewart Island I decided to take a scenic boat ride across the Paterson Inlet and up Fresh River. I left from Golden Bay and got to see more of the island interior along the fresh water river. My skipper, Chris, took me around the little islands and pointed out the various bays as we rode over. He told me about the town and some of the island history. It was nice to have a conversation with a local. He pointed out a lot of birds to me, and I saw a little Blue Penguin. It was heaps of fun on the narrow river, too. The water is often less than a meter deep, so they have to drive the boat relatively fast and make sharper turns. This caused the boat to turn significantly to the side the boat was turning on. I almost felt like I could reach out and touch the water. It was a pleasant out and back. I was the only passenger, but we picked up a full boat of people at the Freshwater Hut. Normally they don’t let passengers leave the boat, but Chris let me walk about while he loaded the others. There is a neat bridge walkway that I crossed over to the hut. I realized that I never took any photos of Bungaree Hut, so this was a nice opportunity. Plus the walkway was fun. Simple wirelines holding up a thin plank walkway, swaying quite lively as I walked across.

I was on the afternoon ferry back, so I had just enough time to grab a snack before waiting around the wharf. It was a full boat back. The weather was great though, no crazy rocking this time.

I am staying at the Kelvin Hotel again. I liked them so much the first round. Plus the hostel was booked out. I had a quiet birthday in the hotel. A nice supper at the restaurant and big dessert. I watched a movie from the quiet of my room. And I relaxed in preparation for the next several days jammed full of big miles and new adventures.

Happy 28th birthday to me.

Bungaree Hut to Oban

28 December 2016

12/28/2016
Bungaree Hut to Oban

I am going to start with the animals I have seen on this island: baby sea lion, big fat sea lion, white tailed deer, crab snatchers, and various other birds. No kiwis, though I have not tried to see them either. New Zealanders are obsessed with seeing kiwis. Apparently so few people see them that the rare daytime kiwis on Stewart Island is truly an attraction worth planning a whole vacation around. That couple I met last night from the bag of steak, they came back for this circuit because when they hiked the Rakiura a couple years back they didn’t see any kiwis. Now that is dedication!

I hiked back to Oban today. I almost took the route around along the Rakiura Track but knew I would regret getting in so late. Everything on Stewart Island closes so early. Plus, tomorrow is my birthday, so I wanted to at least plan well enough to make sure I was covered for a relaxing day. Meaning that I needed to return early enough to have all my bookings squared away.

Even with the early return, I almost missed supper. I was waiting hours for the dryer to clear up so I could have pants. Eventually I gave up and looked at what was actually in the dryer, it was only two sheets. What a waste! I dried my clothes and grabbed them as soon as I could. The Kai Kart was already closed by they fried some blue cod and chips for me anyway. I was incredibly fortunate. I spent the remainder of the evening reading at the South Sea Hotel bar while watching the World Dart Championships on TV. The hotel kitchen let me snag the last piece of cheesecake while they were still cleaning up from the night. Double score!

I packed my bags and went to bed early.

Maori Beach to Bungaree Hut

27 December 2016

12/27/2016
Maori Beach to Bungaree Hut

I woke up last night, not sure if by the rustling noise outside or my need to pee, but I woke up all the same. I thought someone must have shown up after I went to bed and set up their tent by mine. Needing to pee, I had no choice but get out of bed. As I crawled out, my light shining ahead, I saw the fat back end of a sea lion! It was rousting about in the bushes by my tent. As it waddled off I wasn’t sure if I was concerned or amused.

It was a lucky thing that I woke in the night because I was next roused awake around 5:30AM by the start of a downpour. Briefly followed by the start of some intense wind. I was able to sleep in until 9AM when there was a brief sunny spell. I packed up and briefly chatted with the family at the camp while I dried out my tent. I finished stuffing my tent into pack just as a new spell of rain began. It rained on and off the whole day.

Since the weather was relentless, I knew my agenda was to merely hike to Bungaree Hut. I tried to take my time. I stopped at Port William Hut and checked out the wharf. I hiked really slow, which wasn’t a challenge since the rain turned the trail into a massive slippery mud path. I have never felt more childlike than tiptoeing through a multi-kilometer mud puddle, trying not to get my feet wet or muddy. The inevitable eventually happened, and both feet were soaked in wet, sloshy mud. Then all bets were off and I had mud up my legs by the time I arrived to the hut. In all honesty, it was almost dangerous. The mud was so incredibly slippery. There are parts where the route takes you straight up a tree root series. In dry conditions that would mean about forty feet of climbing up through thick roots, making pseudo-steps up from dirt-filled crevice to dirt-filled crevice. In the rain it was more like a vertical slip-n-slide with mud and hard plant parts. The result of which was me grabbing desperately at roots to pull myself up, my feet slipping everywhere, and my knees in the muddy slope. The down sections were the scariest though. It is easy to get up a muddy surface, eventually. But safely down a muddy section is not as easy or sure-footed. Not enough to dissuade my excitement to be out hiking though!

Despite the muddy travel, I arrived around 2PM to Bungaree Hut. On my arrival a man walked out of the hut, excited to see me. No, we did not know each other. About halfway back on the trail he had dropped his bag of steak. I had picked it up and was carrying it in my hand as I walked up. He and his wife were delighted that I had saved their fancy meal. This is their 9th wedding anniversary hike on the North West Curcuit. I chatted with them awhile. They were very nice.

After I had eaten, rested, and dried off, I decided it was a good time to go wash up. I went out on the beach and washed my socks and shoes. I have never seen so much mud come out of my Altra shoes. With the rain still coming in patches I suspect my clothes will be wet still tomorrow.

The hut is full tonight. 16 bunk spaces. I am amazed by this posh hiking setup on Stewart Island. The trail system is set up so you can hike hut to hut. The distances between are anywhere from 8-16 km. I was told that the North West Curcuit isn’t maintained like the Rakiura Track, so the distances are short but harder. I thought the trail was fairly challenging to Bungaree, but I still arrived just under the faster end of the expected travel time. I will admit that compared to the hikers I saw, I am traveling incredibly light. The ranger woman saw my pack and thought I was a dayhiker. For traveling such short distances to sleep at a hut where clean rain water is available, I don’t know how I could have packed more. I am always amazed by how large of packs I see out hiking, but I was particularly surprised here. If I had realized how short my days were going to be, I would have booked further sites. C’est la vie!

Moving on, the huts are incredible. The two huts on the Rakiura are bigger and fancier and have a person stationed at them. Bungaree Hut is considered a standard hut, unmanned, 16 bunks, sink and kitchen counter, table and benches, drying lines, and picnic table outside. Then there are also hunter huts, which are supposed to be more basic. When I thought about what the huts would be like, I imagined barren wood huts similar to those I have seen on US trails. Usually drafty, likely rodent-inhabited, open-floor planned, vacant building for floor sleeping. These are not that. They are quite nice. I would genuinely leave my tent behind if I knew I could stay in a hut each night. Technically, you wouldn’t even need a ground mat. The bunks have mattresses. Though you might risk a night on the floor if you happen on a really full hut. The downside of course being that you are with people, so no privacy. It was pretty nice though. They even have fire stoves and open-sided sheds to dry wood for fires. A ranger at the DOC visitor center told me that all the Stewart Island huts are deep cleaned once a year. And people like Carol, the Port William attendant, travels between the first few huts on this side of the island to check on general hut conditions throughout the season.

Another early night to bed.

Begin the foot travel!

26 December 2016

12/26/2016
Begin the foot travel: Oban to Maori Beach

So my whole plan was to bike from Christchurch to Stewart Island, then hike the Rakiura Track (a Great Walk trail), then ride my bike back to Christchurch. That was as far as my logistics were planned. It turns out that Stewart Island is a holiday hot spot, literally and figuratively. Starting tonight, most lodging is booked through the 5th of January. This was all completely unknown to me. So I am improvising. I left the hostel this morning planning to grab a map at the DOC (Dept of Conservation) Visitor Center, then hit the trail. While at the DOC it was brought to my attention that all tent camping and hut use require permits on Stewart Island. The Rakiura sites specifically need booked and the rest need permits for a first come basis. Good thing I didn’t skip the map. Or maybe bad thing, as now my trip is more complicated. The Rakiura is even more popular than Oban. Besides Maori Beach campsite having spots for tonight and tomorrow, all Rakiura campsites and hut spots are booked through the 9th of January. So I talked over options with one of the ranger people, he told me what areas would be poor with the incoming weather, and I decided an out and back trip on the North West Circuit Track heading off from the Rakiura would be the tramp for me. For my first night I chose the closer of the two neighboring campsites because the guy said it was nicer. By then I had already killed most of my morning, too, so I thought it couldn’t hurt to shorten the day.

After getting everything squared away, I set out at 11:30AM. The Rakiura is recommended as a three day “tramp,” with the segment I hiked today being the shortest. With this in mind, I made sure to add every possible side route. Instead of walking 5 km of paved road to Lee Bay, I took the Horseshoe Point coastal trail, doubling the road distance. It was stunning. Dead Man Beach is by far the best looking beach I have seen in a long time. I then took a long lunch at Horseshoe Bay, pondering my future ambition to gain sailing experience so I can sail around the Caribbean. Then I took Garden Mound track to Little River Track, the hilled trail alternative to the flat coast road. After about 10 miles of hiking, I was already at Maori Beach by 3PM. I set up my tent and put on my suit. It was still pretty chilly from misting rain all day, so I walked the beach end to end. Then I went to explore the historical site where an old Maori sawmill once was. A few parts remain in place today, including the horizontal tube boiler and twin cylinder steam engine. Pretty neat. After all that excitement it was 4PM and I felt like I should have been hiking still. Were the weather warm and sunny I would just add beach time in, but I am not really interested in laying by the beach wrapped in all the clothes I am carrying.

Toward evening the sun finally came out. I sat out watching the bay for a couple hours while eating supper and rubbing out my legs. I am not the only person at camp tonight. There is a couple with their teenage son. They stayed at their tent the whole time, so I know almost nothing nothing about them. A few people have come through also, either heading through to the neighboring camp or heading back to town.

Is it Christmas today?

25 December 2016

12/25/2016
Is it Christmas today?

Today is Christmas, and I am staying in the sleepy town of Oban. This is the only town on Stewart Island. Barely anything is open this weekend. I now understand the concern from the kind man at the boat yard for my lack of planning.

The hostel seems mostly full. In fact there is another hostel and they are both busy. And the hotel I was originally planning for is completely booked out into January. Apparently this is a popular island for the holidays. There are travelers and kiwis alike down here for the holidays.

I stopped by the grocery last night just as the workers were leaving. I wanted to check the hours. They were so jovial. The woman made a joke about me taking pictures of the store and asked if I needed a staff photo. Then a guy suggested maybe I was plotting revenge on the store being closed already. I assured them no revenge, but quipped back that I just wanted some daylight reconnaissance before returning that night. The last guy not-jokingly asked if I was alright and confirmed that I wasn’t going to be without food, and then mused that he would see me the next day at 10AM when they would re-open. I had just ordered a New Zealand Fjordland venison burger from the Kai Kart shack and was merely killing time walking around. But it was nice to feel like people actually cared about my well being. I stopped in at the bar to buy beer-to-go and arrived back at the shack just as they called my number. I spent Christmas Eve in the hostel feasting and drinking on a couch watching movies. It was almost like my family’s tradition to go to the movies on Christmas Eve.

And now it is Christmas Day.

I slept in. No alarm set at all. Early risers in the hostel still woke me their rustling, but I slept pretty late. My body was sore. I went for a walk to stretch my legs and see what was going on in the town. I also had the chance to call my family! How crazy is having wifi that doesn’t require a new passcode every 10 mouse clicks? How I will appreciate US wifi so much more when I return to California. I could see the town come alive at 10AM when I knew the store was opening. I headed to the store too to buy supplies for hiking. I was hungry while shopping, so I bought way too much! Maybe I’ll stay out longer if I find a really beautiful beach cove to stop at.

I then spent the whole morning watching movies on a couch. I have seen some really good New Zealand flicks now. Hunt for the Wildepeople is amazing. Very obvious kiwi humor. I highly recommend! I watched Whale Rider, a very traditional New Zealand storyline. And also Eagle vs. Shark. The main male character is Gemaine, from Flight of the Concords, a favorite TV series of mine. Someone put on the second Lord of the Rings, the third time one of those movies had been played in the last two days, so I gave the kiwi movies a rest after that saga.

When talking with my family I lamented how un-Christmasy today felt. I was in a hostel full of strangers. I am not good at putting in the effort to meet new people, and today especially I just wanted to relax. But it felt sort of lonely. At some point the washing machine finally became available and I put in my cycling clothes and pajamas that I have worn the past week. My only other outfit was my hiking dress, so I showered up and put on my fancy getup. When I walked back into the lounge I could tell there was a change in the mood of the place. It was later afternoon and people were beginning to return from whatever activities they had done today. I sat at a table working on a puzzle and another woman sat by me and started working on a different puzzle. We started chatting, and it felt very friendly. Another holiday tradition in my family is putting together puzzles.

That morning when I payed for another night’s stay, the owner told me his family was putting on a little barbaque and dessert for us later. I thought that was so nice. While my new friend and I puzzled, however, it became obvious that the hostel family were giving us more than a small treat. They brought out crackers, cheese, sliced watermelon, cheeries, pretzels, chocolates, and trailmix. Then they brought out sliced ham, grilled chicken, grilled sausage, potato salad, coleslaw, garden salad, pasta salad, steamed potatoes, grapes, a berry salad, juice, soda, sparkling wine, New Zealand white wine, rum, New Zealand beer, and fruit covered pavlova. Wow! It was incredible! I seriously thought they were going to make a few small things that I would supplement my own food with, but that was a true feast. What unbelievable generosity of this family working through the holidays to host a bunch of strangers. To show our appreciation, we the guests, took all the dishes to wash and cleaned up all the tables afterwards. I still cannot believe how wonderful a surprise that meal was.

And just as the mood had been slowly changing, it had become very festive and welcoming. Strangers were sitting with strangers, chatting about life rather than the hard banter of your life story. The woman I had been puzzling with had met another woman that day and she joined us puzzling. She shared some New Zealand red wine that she had bought. I now feel like I have gotten to sample a representative array of New Zealand’s beer and wine options.

It became late and I retired to a couch to watch another movie before heading to bed. I have my bags packed up and ready to go for tomorrow. I couldn’t have asked for a more cheerful Christmas! And a side bonus was that Carol played Michael Buble Christmas music all day. What could be better?

Invercargill to Stewart Island – 17 miles

24 December 2016

12/24/2016
Invercargill to Oban, Stewart Island – 17 miles and a ferry ride

Last night I booked my ferry ticket for this evening, so I knew I could sleep in and relax this morning. I showered again just because, and watched an Avengers cartoon while repacking. I ate breakfast in the hotel restaurant, waffles with fried bananas and bacon. I ran out of internet, but the hotel staff were very happy to look it up for. They checked the Invercargill to Bluff weather (still miserable) and Stewart Island (looking like a day or two of continued shattered showers). I was told that Stewart Island is lovely even in bad weather, ha!

Across the way from the hotel is a bike shop, Wensley’s Cycles. I bought replacement cleats for my bike shoes, and they changed them out for me. What a Christmas present! In better spirits I set out for the last jaunt down to Bluff to the ferry harbor.

I only had 17 miles to ride. The same woman who looked up weather yesterday told me it was for the best that I wouldn’t get to Bluff last night because it is always super windy there. She was too right. The weather report claimed 47 km per hour winds. I can easily agree. I had to grip my handlebars just to maintain control. The wind was at my right, trying to push me off the road at all times. They must have a lot of rain here, too, as all the ditches were dug at high angles down from the road for drainage channeling. A fall would have been brutal. Worse was when trucks would pass me. The ones driving towards me would create a wind vortex, temporarily sucking me backwards. The trucks passing me from behind would simultaneously pull me forward and push me sideways. Scarier but preferable. I was in no hurry, so slowly I made it to Bluff. Once I hit town, at the furthest bottom of South Island, the hill the town is situated beside caused the wind to turn around it, giving me a slight tail wind for the cruise along the wharf! Magnificent!

The ferry to Stewart Island is run by Stewart Island Experience. They have a very nice terminal in Bluff. I was able to secure a space for my bicycle on the voyage over, so no scrambling around to find a place in Bluff! I changed into warm clothes and headed to the Anchorage Cafe where I feasted like a ravenous pig, eating blue cod with a fresh veggie salad and fries, a pint of Speights beer, a lot of water, pavlova and ice cream covered in strawberries and cream, and hot tea. The rains picked up again, but I was snugly inside the cafe with wifi and comfort knowing I was not going back out into the weather.

There was a large crowd for the 5PM boat. I was surprised to see so many people. Especially knowing that the 11AM boat sold out. The winds were still blowing hard which many passengers did not appreciate. It was a tumultuous sea for the ride over. So many seasick people. I was in a mesmerized stupor the whole time, and inappropriately found the suffering people comical. The waves would turn up the boat and I would lose sight of the water on one side and lose the sky on the other. I have always had a special relationship with water. And like I was sitting at the alter of a water goddess, I felt so calm and happy that I almost cried. I was exhausted and didn’t feel it until being propelled across ocean waters with zero physical exertion required on my part whatsoever. I don’t know if I could have been happier at that moment.

Since arriving to Invercargill, the people have been real. I went into the grocery after arriving in Bluff, desperately needing allergy medicine. They had nothing at all. But a sweet woman shared her personal supply with me. Don’t worry, they are the individually wrapped foil pack kind with name and dosage printed on the back. Though honestly, I probably would have taken them anyways. A costumer had already asked if I was crying. My eyes were itching fiercely. Made worse by the debris blown in during the pedal over. Then at the boat building, I was adjusting my bicycle so the luggage man could more easily lift it down the stairs. He was waiting for luggage bins to fill up so they could be crane-lifted onto the boat. When he realized that I hadn’t made reservations yet he quickly grabbed one of the office phones and dialed the hostel for me so I could ask about a bed. He said it would be terrible to arrive with nowhere to go, even if I had a tent. The woman I talked to on the phone, Carol, was so understanding and friendly. She put me in a shared room that didn’t have any other guests for tonight. And they made a space in the shed to store my bike. They are even nice enough to let me keep it there for my hike and to store the gear I won’t take with me. What a friendly family!

Milton to Invercargill – 102 miles

23 December 2016

12/23/2016
Milton to Invercargill – 102 miles

My host recommended that I take a detour to the next town. He said the highway was very hilly and not so nice. He thought timing would come out the same because the route was flatter and emptier. I had every intention of taking his advice, but then I reached the detour junction and realized that the town was maybe half the distance as his detour. Hill or no hills, that seemed like an easy choice. I took the highway and had some really lovely downhill cruisers, the ups not that strenuous. The selling point, though, is that clouds rolled in right as I reached Balclutha, 17 miles from the hostel, and I was inside drinking hot tea as a brief rain shower hit.

Today is slow moving. Constant rolling hills, which could be really nice except for the strong headwinds resisting all uphill motion and eliminating the joy of the downhill as I am instead fighting to stay upright from the slight angle of the wind. I fought for 19 more miles then stopped at a cafe in Clinton. I met a nice Canadian couple stopping in for lunch. They are doing a motorbike tour around South Island. Very friendly.

I got back on the road and barely kept up morale on the 26 miles to Gore, where I stopped for lunch at Table Talk Cafe. Let me tell you how low my spirits were. Leaving Clinton, the wind became stronger, the hills continued, the clouds continued to loom overhead, and I made a choice based on advice from the cafe that I should stay on Highway 1. I have no way to know whether I made a good decision. The road turned up, changing the direction I was battered on to my side, but still sufficiently from the front that it didn’t relax any of the resistance. I was pedaling on the downhills just to keep up momentum. On a big uphill, I clipped out a couple times in quick succession. Further investigation revealed that I had all but lost the whole ridge on my left cleat, the right cleat looking not far behind. Not the end of the world, but losing the ability to use quad power to pull the pedal up sucked.

The road turned slightly into several small and closely packed hills, temporarily diminishing the wind. On the far side was a straightaway. I thought maybe finally I would get a break! By then I had been riding quite awhile, feeling like based on time, I should have been passed half way. Then the trifecta… Just as I hit the straight, where the road turned bumpy and shitty, the winds slammed into my face, literally almost pausing my forward motion. I saw a sign for Gore revealing that I was barely half the distance. Then it started to rain. In an anguished scream at the weather gods, a sound only possibly from a person at the lowest point of desperation, I was ready to give up. Fortunately, or unfortunately, one cannot really just stop riding on a trip like this. It is not like I was going to stand around in the cold rain instead of ride through it. What would that have accomplished beyond extending my misery?

At the cafe I sat staring out the window for a long time like a crazed person. If the cafe had not closed, I likely would have sat longer. I knew I would keep going, no matter how bad things were while riding. I think that is why I have a high capacity for activities people find unappealing: hike all day every day for 2660 miles; run samples for two weeks straight, barely getting an hour of sleep each day; bike 100 miles through miserable weather. My answer continues to be “Yeah, sure.” It might suck while you do it, but are there repercussions? Usually not. Are there rewards? I think so. So as quickly as I stop doing that activity, things are immediately improved. Zero incentive to stop myself from doing it again.

I rode an additional 40 miles to Invercargill. What a stupid day. Clearly New Zealand did not get the memo that I am on holiday. The weather is supposed to be perfect. Or at least moderately pleasant. In Gore, at the Golden Age Tavern, a waitress checked the weather for me and it said 33 km per hour winds. I made it into the city at a snail’s pace, barely before dark. Both shoes coming unclipped at an annoyingly frequent rate, usually just on the steeper climbs. Pure misery. With the wind blowing, I had zero interest in setting up my tent, so I headed to a hostel. At 9:30PM on a Friday night, the hostel was locked up with a sign to call for late arrivals. In no mood to find a way to call someone and sit around waiting to then share a dorm, I went to the first hotel I saw. Kevin Hotel. And what a genuinely grand experience.

They were so friendly and accommodating. No one batted an eye at my filthy legs. They talked pleasantly of a hot shower and getting a good night’s rest. I was able to put my bike in a downstairs office to not bother taking it up to my room. The price was well under the cap I made in my head when I decided the convenience of a hotel was worth the money. I had a clean, private, and plush room all to myself up on the fifth floor, overlooking the city. I showered with soap, shampoo, and a rag to finally scrub off the layered-on sunscreen. I sat surrounded by pillows on the giant fluffy bed in my pajamas with my hair wrapped up in a terry cloth towel watching Zoolander 2 while eating snicker bars, banana chips, and free milk from the dairy fridge. I dumped out all my meager possessions just because I could, and so they could air out after two days of rain. I even had wifi! I could not have asked for a better setup. The only damper on the moment was the discovery that my pelvic bones are more than bruised, there is a new development of chaffing from riding in wet shorts for two days. Great timing to be done riding for a bit.