tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45351271482498914792024-02-06T21:00:09.681-08:00Chris's Bicycle Touring and Other Travel Adventures.A travel log of my journeys through Australia, New Zealand, and beyond..
Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.comBlogger70125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-35476876762676656932021-11-12T20:58:00.001-08:002021-11-12T20:58:22.090-08:00The Misty Mountains and Windin Falls<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdNET0De4Gh9PNqZHHdnSYv3INBI-vsDPU_Ubv8-c43_UnQMGPaJXx7OQ_pv6UB7av9jsa4Ho09BNiiBaTJJ71FY4Z19CtOvDw9cAQaaBm7p5jhAHRsUw3y6I4jYGWKbapqZfXs_ZpLmo/s960/Windin+1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdNET0De4Gh9PNqZHHdnSYv3INBI-vsDPU_Ubv8-c43_UnQMGPaJXx7OQ_pv6UB7av9jsa4Ho09BNiiBaTJJ71FY4Z19CtOvDw9cAQaaBm7p5jhAHRsUw3y6I4jYGWKbapqZfXs_ZpLmo/w562-h316/Windin+1.jpg" width="562" /></a></div><br /><p>I'm still around, doing much shorter bicycle tours these days. This was a roughly 100Km (in the end) overnight bike and then then hike in the Misty mountains and Atherton Tablelands with Windin Falls as my final destination.</p><p>To be honest, it is hard to tear myself away from my daughter for more than a couple of days, but I am dying for a bit more adventure. That part of me is living vicariously through YouTube videos of bicycle touring. My favourite just recently being Ed Pratt's videos. I'm sure the opportunity for a longer tour will arise at some point.</p><p>Anyway, my proposed route on this one was to go on the dirt and 4WD tracks in the Misty Mountains, however things didn't quite go to plan, route-wise, and I ended-up going 20-30Km further than planned and taking a long-cut through the lush farmland of the Atherton Tablelands.</p><p>To be honest, this was a nice little error, even though it did take it out of me by the end of the day, especially as I don't do too much cycling anymore. The first half of the day was deep in the forest and I would have stayed in the forest for the whole day if I hadn't messed-up my route slightly.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4rP43An6hK2SDdlQrl1vexvgR80meXwNjTwAjOQa-or2rEOdKDDJwwblpdYOyo38haoz20aISRJMHSYTyA1t5GBiuE4xPv5juhK91zxD4xZlcc0C-LFlpHLNi5FUePNZo-gUwUj7FyjQ/s1992/Windin+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1328" data-original-width="1992" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4rP43An6hK2SDdlQrl1vexvgR80meXwNjTwAjOQa-or2rEOdKDDJwwblpdYOyo38haoz20aISRJMHSYTyA1t5GBiuE4xPv5juhK91zxD4xZlcc0C-LFlpHLNi5FUePNZo-gUwUj7FyjQ/w453-h301/Windin+4.jpg" width="453" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>I didn't realise when I had initially planned the route on Komoot that one of the roads had restricted access. It was likely I may have just been able to cycle it anyway, but then after worrying about it for an hour or so, I just rode right past it anyway. Lucky though, as I got in some road riding and some views over the lush farmland and hills.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3nJ_s4Q5Gcd-wonwpKYXlChkpRELDExZQmeVkmeZixcXteL3Kpq4y8LJIx_LOAvds1lP6cbHdaVvIKxtO9p6zCKjpDR4cxdIY5Z1CvhX2dcDP3GBirIJwFirU0WsjOLy-Xb9yjZKgmAo/s1992/Windin+9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1328" data-original-width="1992" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3nJ_s4Q5Gcd-wonwpKYXlChkpRELDExZQmeVkmeZixcXteL3Kpq4y8LJIx_LOAvds1lP6cbHdaVvIKxtO9p6zCKjpDR4cxdIY5Z1CvhX2dcDP3GBirIJwFirU0WsjOLy-Xb9yjZKgmAo/w457-h304/Windin+9.jpg" width="457" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>As you can see from the map and profile below, this wasn't an especially easy route. I really don't know how I manage to do this to myself. I just seem to have an inability to plan a route that isn't an absolute gut-buster. Still, this was nowhere near as tough as the CREB track last year. Having hardly done any cycling whatsoever on the other hand, nearly 100Km with over 1700m of vertical ascent largely on rough roads wasn't exactly what I had in mind. Good to know at 41 that I can do these kinds of days without any training on the bike at all.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifwxheh-B5vaEJgXCo2SkLqKfWv_ANfeYJojcvj18FRGSmHMBv1JzlHysODT7pgtLh6UJhMyM9OXOaRm_flhc0PZVmsNf4cvGS94xSW5dNlppBq37sUWIZJ00hAyavlHTWVv09uj7Adko/s1040/Windin+bike.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="790" data-original-width="1040" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifwxheh-B5vaEJgXCo2SkLqKfWv_ANfeYJojcvj18FRGSmHMBv1JzlHysODT7pgtLh6UJhMyM9OXOaRm_flhc0PZVmsNf4cvGS94xSW5dNlppBq37sUWIZJ00hAyavlHTWVv09uj7Adko/w539-h410/Windin+bike.PNG" width="539" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC6yl7BcyPqVijVMRaF82SCq1Ga0Fm1EZZDjBKoeXBUwF2uFio15-3QT0W0I7sjCZ5KTDWUeASbIqwW7YhKzx5wiVKW8J8SCJPFy7aGydu65t72Jm9LIxtKCGyU4JHbDFpjATBYPmFv_Y/s435/Windin+bike+prof.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="142" data-original-width="435" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC6yl7BcyPqVijVMRaF82SCq1Ga0Fm1EZZDjBKoeXBUwF2uFio15-3QT0W0I7sjCZ5KTDWUeASbIqwW7YhKzx5wiVKW8J8SCJPFy7aGydu65t72Jm9LIxtKCGyU4JHbDFpjATBYPmFv_Y/w515-h167/Windin+bike+prof.PNG" width="515" /></a></div><br /><div>What was a pleasant surprise throughout the day was that it wasn't hot at all. In this part of the world it does tend to be hot rather than cold, but with a bit of a breeze around all day it actually was cool, and even in the sun I never felt hot. This was probably just as well as the day would have taken even more out of me.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJgj-ZMTqK_y5wGIWbENgDDImdPyp1VrY_vKrYTxTmbU3RPJLWPpHMWSnwXM_Y1E3-UTlPxsopmhQ4NPEgezke17-2qiGq_ngz9XlPvhXX3sqT7uw8oq_ckNi3CtgE_ynVxGVijYOJj2A/s1992/Windin+7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1328" data-original-width="1992" height="324" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJgj-ZMTqK_y5wGIWbENgDDImdPyp1VrY_vKrYTxTmbU3RPJLWPpHMWSnwXM_Y1E3-UTlPxsopmhQ4NPEgezke17-2qiGq_ngz9XlPvhXX3sqT7uw8oq_ckNi3CtgE_ynVxGVijYOJj2A/w487-h324/Windin+7.jpg" width="487" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>Slightly ashamed to say that the last few hills back to Henrietta creek campsite - where I had parked my car at the start of the day - broke me and I had to get off and push. I had done plenty of that throughout the day on the 4WD and dirt tracks, but on the tarmac it always feels a bit lame. I do try not to think like that these days however.</div><div><br /></div><div>I had decided to see what it was like to camp in the car, instead of the tent, as my car is a Kia Grand Carnival so it is plenty big enough. I have even been tempted to kit it out like a campervan. It was a comfortable enough night in a $6 campsite.</div><div><br /></div><div>The next day I was planning a couple of hikes, but did just one in the end after the crazy day before (and I wanted to get back to see my daughter). Quite a famous place in these parts is Windin Falls. You don't go to the bottom but hike to the top, where there is an infinity pool, which often features on Instagram posts. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQcB7BJyonxDEVsLgBZiEFxvan8d0EqLmDVdHWTCh9rDU_DE0w_69CnFzh_fnn4d13A1ohMyK47hSbUsSSzsY-a8hXTA0YLfaipiyN4Lv8Hc90qEy342YigyqbL7UGzSDCTfBd2m42n0c/s1992/Windin+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1328" data-original-width="1992" height="331" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQcB7BJyonxDEVsLgBZiEFxvan8d0EqLmDVdHWTCh9rDU_DE0w_69CnFzh_fnn4d13A1ohMyK47hSbUsSSzsY-a8hXTA0YLfaipiyN4Lv8Hc90qEy342YigyqbL7UGzSDCTfBd2m42n0c/w497-h331/Windin+2.jpg" width="497" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>It is quite a view up there and luckily for me not an especially difficult hike. The trailhead was a bit of a drive to get to, but the hike itself undulated gently most of the way through forest, gradually ascending into the mountains before the falls then laid-out a spectacular view of the valley and Mount Bartle Frere in the background, the highest mountain in Queensland.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuKWkTYgqsUtlg260I7NctWlzxlc7rHBfQbczQTTDNHEaR_nxV57SP_wIf1HRacRwcVII82GA5y2I5Wx_UfvjBWul-E8yrit9pPUUzD0uVmqByozaWNkftStGN1mVA5QyjyVCNR8RTXgI/s1992/Windin+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1328" data-original-width="1992" height="327" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuKWkTYgqsUtlg260I7NctWlzxlc7rHBfQbczQTTDNHEaR_nxV57SP_wIf1HRacRwcVII82GA5y2I5Wx_UfvjBWul-E8yrit9pPUUzD0uVmqByozaWNkftStGN1mVA5QyjyVCNR8RTXgI/w492-h327/Windin+3.jpg" width="492" /></a></div><br /><div><p>Again, these trips pale in comparison with my longer epic rides in Australia and New Zealand, but with the slight change to bikepacking instead of road touring, I'm at least keeping things fresh and have the knowledge that I can still do long days in the saddle and travel to interesting places. This means that when the opportunity arises to go further afield, I'll have some idea about what I can do and keep the skills and equipment up to date. </p><p>Since being in Cairns, I have also focused on repairing some of the damage to my body from playing high level squash for many years, then following it with marathons, ultrmarathons, and ultra long distance bicycle tours. I'll be ready when the opportunity comes along again, as my body has improved a lot. </p><p>If you are interested in what I do in this regard, you can check out my website (link at the top right of this blog) and my Facebook page and YouTube channel "Cairns Gait and Posture Training". My main aim in my training is to keep going well into old age, both for myself and for my clients.</p><p>Anyway, enough of the self-promotion. Hope you enjoyed the blog.</p><p> </p></div>Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-87853594496821524712021-04-21T23:39:00.001-07:002021-04-21T23:39:59.783-07:00Around Lake Tinaroo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCuS6kyvR8e3emd3cEdH0jZBNU23SiW4hbHSnW6K8j28YIGLyxe2MrDXhy7yXGOVYDjuzY5DmQWQORei_pkTPEUCUMN4aLHF4xKg2_W2UveFjuKzm9mlImpyrTV3c-mSrZJR_gFqDpZ2E/s3984/IMG_1543.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2656" data-original-width="3984" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCuS6kyvR8e3emd3cEdH0jZBNU23SiW4hbHSnW6K8j28YIGLyxe2MrDXhy7yXGOVYDjuzY5DmQWQORei_pkTPEUCUMN4aLHF4xKg2_W2UveFjuKzm9mlImpyrTV3c-mSrZJR_gFqDpZ2E/w441-h294/IMG_1543.JPG" width="441" /></a></div><p>Far North Queensland in the wet season isn't the best place for bicycle touring/bikepacking. It's hot, humid, and wet, and this in turn brings out the bugs also. Torrential rain showers can also wash-away roads and make creek crossings impassable. With this in mind then, I didn't do much over the past 3 or 4 months since my adventures on the CREB track.</p><p>At the end of the wet season in mid-March, I decided for a relatively simple trip around Lake Tinaroo in the Atherton Tablelands. At about 75Km and not too many stiff climbs, I thought it would be a pleasant enough re-introduction to the saddle.</p><p>If it wasn't for the fact that I still had a bit of a rotten cold - which had already postponed the trip by one week - it would've been a nice easy ride. However, it was a bit exhausting, and then an unexpected rain shower cut things short and forced me out of an overnight camp, as I and my gear were soaking wet. Along with not feeling particularly well, I thought it prudent just to make it a day trip.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8NhpodsACgfzXCNFaA6pKRdItjfwVY31FmrJxtvKdWTiM5YWUoz_jQF3h7e11x-bs4z1yMdLn7i43MB6gSuSOUlt9KMhFEOt5SD05eteLjv_yyPlLN4ar66ohvFcA8Vjr5G_vlFSRmNk/s837/Lake+Tinaroos+circuit.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="707" data-original-width="837" height="406" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8NhpodsACgfzXCNFaA6pKRdItjfwVY31FmrJxtvKdWTiM5YWUoz_jQF3h7e11x-bs4z1yMdLn7i43MB6gSuSOUlt9KMhFEOt5SD05eteLjv_yyPlLN4ar66ohvFcA8Vjr5G_vlFSRmNk/w481-h406/Lake+Tinaroos+circuit.PNG" width="481" /></a></div><br /><p>The highlights of the trip were the flora and fauna rather than the scenery, although the fig trees were a kind of scenery in and of themselves. My first stop was to see if I could spot and platypuses in Yungaburra. I had driven through Yungaburra and visited this spot once before, but I didn't manage to find any. I got lucky this time and saw two, and managed to get a nice video of one of them, included in my vlog below.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="410" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/edFPuz5sIVk" width="493" youtube-src-id="edFPuz5sIVk"></iframe></div><br /><p>It is one of the great pleasures about living in Australia to see incredibly unique wildlife, and it doesn't get too much more special than a platypus. Another Australian animal ticked-off the list. Next on my radar is a tree kangaroo, which were supposed to be around in this region, especially near the Curtain Fig Tree - my next stop - but as with most animals that spend most of their time in trees, they are difficult to find.</p><p>Kairi was one of only two towns along the way on this trip, and it was pretty tiny. I stopped for a quick snack and headed to Lake Tinaroo, which is on the edge of the rainforest to the north and the farmlands to the south. </p><p>From Lake Barrine the route had been on sealed road, but just past Tinaroo Dam the road turned unsealed, but in very good condition and mostly quite gently undulating all the way around the lake, with regular places to stop. The route is actually a very good beginner ride as an introduction to bikepacking, so perhaps I did the CREB track and this ride the wrong way around.</p><p>Wildlife was still plentiful along the way around the lake; butterflies and birds were colourful and numerous, and I was lucky enough to catch site of a large monitor lizard climbing a tree just off the track.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5tDELprQTZckkvOXIiXn87eMFxScyx7CvWi_-TRWqM6dTGTS1rISUXJcqWcm2Usr2LYctC-E4mnWsgkpebYdFnuC8vf_aXa1BTpclLUupQAbp7do7ucSiBdAfp3ud_5b4BFKcPu4U0RM/s3984/IMG_1539.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2656" data-original-width="3984" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5tDELprQTZckkvOXIiXn87eMFxScyx7CvWi_-TRWqM6dTGTS1rISUXJcqWcm2Usr2LYctC-E4mnWsgkpebYdFnuC8vf_aXa1BTpclLUupQAbp7do7ucSiBdAfp3ud_5b4BFKcPu4U0RM/w430-h286/IMG_1539.JPG" width="430" /></a></div><p>One of the great things about Far North Queensland is that there is always a creek in the mountains to cool-off in, however at this time of year there is always the chance of getting munched by mosquitoes and march flies. A dip or two is needed though in the heat at this time of year, and a little more than halfway through the day with the sun shining, even a soak in the creek didn't keep the heat away for long. That was until an unexpected torrential rain shower came out of nowhere to cut the trip short. All of a sudden I experienced feeling cold for the first time in about 6 months.</p><p>This shower really kicked in just as I set-off for a walk, and by the time I got back much of my gear got a soaking. The rain came so unexpectedly that I hadn't even sealed my bags properly. I was only walking for ten minutes, but it was enough for me to reconsider camping overnight. I suppose in the tropics at the back of the wet season I should have known better.</p><p>Instead of taking the detour to my planned camping area, I used the fact I was getting cold to get the muscles firing to warm me up and sprint back to the car so I could get home in time for dinner. An interesting day out and a good learning experience about cycling in the tropics.</p><p><br /></p>Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-23306482559221573892020-12-01T14:36:00.002-08:002020-12-02T22:03:34.051-08:00The CREB Track - Remote Bikepacking in Far North Queensland<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAKzqjRrfofYblt_LO0ekwjTHPHY8v6jqwvI1oOAeU2-mIXpco-XuT5kRqH7s8Io0-BYYQmW_Opfg0QKGBwCsxcVvjBXZ0QqgRcZyRn_HmA-no-K894JqVmGOQc08EsLW7beAbukVoGeE/s3984/IMG_1424.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2656" data-original-width="3984" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAKzqjRrfofYblt_LO0ekwjTHPHY8v6jqwvI1oOAeU2-mIXpco-XuT5kRqH7s8Io0-BYYQmW_Opfg0QKGBwCsxcVvjBXZ0QqgRcZyRn_HmA-no-K894JqVmGOQc08EsLW7beAbukVoGeE/w400-h266/IMG_1424.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p>I think I have done some fairly adventurous stuff, but in general it has been on roads regularly frequented by cars, or on asphalt. Even though this trip was only about 75Km and a day and a half long, this was no ordinary road and there wasn't much around to help me if I got in trouble. Although short, this was as adventurous a trip as I have done yet.</p><p>The CREB stands for the Cairns Regional Electricity Board, and is basically a very rough 4WD track originally carved through the wilderness to connect rural communities north of Cairns with electricity.</p><p> The track is closed for much of the year as it is impassable in the wet, even in the best of 4WD vehicles. It becomes impassable for a few reasons; firstly, it gets too muddy on the Daintree side, causing vehicles to get stuck, and also on the Daintree side the river swells and gets too deep, especially through the wet season. With no bridge, you have to wade through the river at the start of the track, which is also inhabited by crocodiles - one in that particular part of the river is apparently over 5 metres long! The rain also makes the clay dirt on the track impossibly slippery, making it hard to get the traction to get up the steep inclines, and then dangerously difficult to use the brakes to control the descent. Alongside the track there is plenty of evidence of cars that didn't make it.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWbpQ2WmXWpH9t5f17iUbTBZdzcmLpBC9I6ssxUaAF3pApy2ZGT2Y-W-xajy4BG2mWiVu4K93xEGn0JzQNIz0uwE_MNRqh_7-A9Z-fIWgH5cvj-mA8U8pALONU4XhAgZDlAjJGZLel8sg/s3984/IMG_1394.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2656" data-original-width="3984" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWbpQ2WmXWpH9t5f17iUbTBZdzcmLpBC9I6ssxUaAF3pApy2ZGT2Y-W-xajy4BG2mWiVu4K93xEGn0JzQNIz0uwE_MNRqh_7-A9Z-fIWgH5cvj-mA8U8pALONU4XhAgZDlAjJGZLel8sg/w394-h262/IMG_1394.JPG" width="394" /></a></div><p>I had originally planned to cycle the CREB track and then the Bloomfield track the next day. The Bloomfield track is a 4WD track that runs from Cape Tribulation (the end of the sealed road) to Cooktown. I had planned to come off the CREB and do part of it back to my car, which was parked at the Daintree River Ferry car park. In retrospect, this was a pretty stupidly ambitious plan. </p><p>I am still quite new to bikepacking and it can be very difficult to know exactly what distances I am able to cover in a day. When I bicycle tour on sealed roads, I know that 100Km is a comfortable day on an average road. If it is very mountainous or windy, maybe 80Km. However, I can do 140Km+ on almost any day if I push myself. Bikepacking is much harder to judge.</p><p>There are many more variables at play on a bikepacking trip. The first being the severity of the climbs and descents; they are usually much less forgiving meaning you may have to push the bike on the way up and go very slowly even on the way down. The road surface can also vary quite a bit and this determines how fast you can go, and you never really know until you are on the track itself. The weather also can change the road conditions rapidly, making some sections almost undoable, or at least incredibly slow going.</p><p>Bikepacking usually also involves being far away from any resources; you may have to source your water from the surroundings, carry more water, and carry more food. You may also need to bring some specialist equipment, and finding comfortable places to rest and recuperate is often much harder - you won't find a nice energy boosting coffee around the corner unless you make it yourself.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMkiGDDK7THwOrU5A-XJW08MFjeuiQFinfWcvBFDodQYmNMsRNB68h-BvFUH7sjCzuOHyT_lSEgLsDAG0pji71qc5Bx_PbtUfRcQOvzFKAHZE78JyTPGhigA8GS-qmewZVD1n38Z2gDY0/s3984/IMG_1368.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2656" data-original-width="3984" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMkiGDDK7THwOrU5A-XJW08MFjeuiQFinfWcvBFDodQYmNMsRNB68h-BvFUH7sjCzuOHyT_lSEgLsDAG0pji71qc5Bx_PbtUfRcQOvzFKAHZE78JyTPGhigA8GS-qmewZVD1n38Z2gDY0/w393-h262/IMG_1368.JPG" width="393" /></a></div><p>I had intended then to do about 140Km over two days, and I thought I'd have plenty of time. How wrong I was. I did about 60Km on the first day on the CREB, with about 16 of those on the sealed roads going from my car to the start of the track. The 45 or so Km on the CREB track took me the whole day, with lots of hiking the bike and heavy braking down the hills. There was hardly a flat section.</p><p>The day also included plenty of river and creek crossings; the first was across the crocodile-infested Daintree river, which I did worry a bit about. Most people cross this river in their 4WD, I would be walking it across on a bicycle. I was told by a local that I had no worries though as the river level was very low, and as long as I didn't cross at dusk, dawn or at night I'd be absolutely fine. Multiple river crossings did slow me down though.</p><p>The biggest reason for the slow day, however, was simply the arduous nature of the track. Incredibly steep inclines, so steep to the point I was struggling at a few points to push the bike up them, made worse by some slightly wet areas making it difficult to get a grip with my shoes. After finishing the biggest climb of the day up "Big Red", I was so spent in the 35 C heat that I starting cramping in multiple areas, first getting on and off the bike, and then just walking. This had me a little concerned for a while about how I'd make enough progress to even get off the track by the end of the next day, let alone do another 70Km on another track.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0dDzeKbtldHwC1Gwg1pWGqAD9W5g7EBAC1Jyu2TRiB-9nGp0gGDgPFHdwGU1Un0psFA_OZTidt77ANiZ4l3CfN5otUuPx1EDLvYCpqv-qVAn_qIVC45QVG0xOXjLJOZHrWfdM9hfypzs/s3984/IMG_1405.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2656" data-original-width="3984" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0dDzeKbtldHwC1Gwg1pWGqAD9W5g7EBAC1Jyu2TRiB-9nGp0gGDgPFHdwGU1Un0psFA_OZTidt77ANiZ4l3CfN5otUuPx1EDLvYCpqv-qVAn_qIVC45QVG0xOXjLJOZHrWfdM9hfypzs/w400-h266/IMG_1405.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p>I rested and recovered, but even after the big climbs were done, there were multiple steep, smaller climbs, which took a lot out of me and I was soaked with sweat all day. This was hard yakka, as they say in this part of the world.</p><p>Still, the track was remote and beautiful and it felt like a real adventure. The only other person doing the track on both days was a motorcyclist I saw a few kilometres in from the start in the morning on the first day. He was going to visit a friend in Cooktown and thought he'd give the track a go (that's him in the picture below).</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAvcwki6rQXIAMufyrJgeqYJsOWe-GmgenTgJOufsi6p7H4sLgDcvp27DVDTg8RluxgPU3kBNXrOvE_fOgKjCCZOPuy9zmjQzUL6Gp3wWMkQLNh6yoRY-RSfm0Nu-w7U4eCqrGWV39grc/s3984/IMG_1401.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2656" data-original-width="3984" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAvcwki6rQXIAMufyrJgeqYJsOWe-GmgenTgJOufsi6p7H4sLgDcvp27DVDTg8RluxgPU3kBNXrOvE_fOgKjCCZOPuy9zmjQzUL6Gp3wWMkQLNh6yoRY-RSfm0Nu-w7U4eCqrGWV39grc/w397-h264/IMG_1401.JPG" width="397" /></a></div><p>I was quite happy with not seeing too much dangerous wildlife, particularly the crocodiles at the Daintree river crossing (the other creeks were in the mountains, and crocs don't enjoy climbing), with the only creepy crawly being a red-bellied black snake that slithered away from me on the track. A Ulysses butterfly also followed me for while, a strikingly beautiful, large turquoise and black butterfly found here in Far North Queensland.</p><p>By about 2pm I was utterly spent, and I know I have said this a few times on this blog, but on this occasion, I really mean it. Cramping in multiple areas, I was truly struggling to put one foot in front of the other and even to get on the bike to ride it. With that in mind then, I was glad to find a campground about 30Km into the track. I knew that there was a place called, "Yundilli Camp", but I had assumed it was just an unmanned and basic campground with a bench and some flat areas for pitching a tent. I was surprised to find a Garden of Eden-like place in the middle of the harshness of the forest.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrziQ2y2FgEgA5aEY19iLtrNVVtmjYLLCWU8V01qmSN6kJ5tKjQiRidQZznAQomuWVZw8cmXXBPuaxSL1nVujh5WuOrbhRN_VBh_BjJM47OpqLK8UJu2NCUynlZMBhBSXGW75sB-EiQvs/s3984/IMG_1423.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2656" data-original-width="3984" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrziQ2y2FgEgA5aEY19iLtrNVVtmjYLLCWU8V01qmSN6kJ5tKjQiRidQZznAQomuWVZw8cmXXBPuaxSL1nVujh5WuOrbhRN_VBh_BjJM47OpqLK8UJu2NCUynlZMBhBSXGW75sB-EiQvs/w385-h256/IMG_1423.JPG" width="385" /></a></div><p>So knackered at this point, I failed to take any pictures, but I wish I had. There was a nice little house within a large plot of land with an almost perfectly manicured lawn and garden. I had assumed it must be aboriginals living all the way out here (with a perfectly manicured garden, I should have known better), but it was just an older white couple who decided to live away from it all in the forest. I was amazed at how well their home was kitted-out. The husband was sitting down in front of a huge widescreen TV and their kitchen had all the appliances you might expect (the house was on the track for the electricity board after all, I guess).</p><p>The lady gave me some water and said I could camp for free if I wanted seeing as I was just on a bicycle, but that they had moved the camping area to just down the road because their outside toilet was not useable. I thanked the lady and commented how I was envious of their wonderful property and little piece of heaven in the rainforest.</p><p>The camping area just down the road had a permanent resident whose car and bed sat under a shelter with no walls. He had a few chairs, a couple of wash basins, and a clothes line, and just a rainwater tank for drinking and washing dishes and clothes. He was doing some work for the couple doing odd jobs and some backburning of the forest to make sure they didn't get any serious forest fires engulfing the property. For most of the year this area of Australia is very green and moist, so there is a fairly low chance of forest fires, but just before the rains come in December, it can be very hot and dry so you do see the odd forest fire every now and then, although usually not serious.</p><p>The chap living at the campsite had hardly moved from the area in decades, and rarely even visited any of the small towns in the region. He seemed quite happy with a largely solitary existence in the forest, although he did talk my head off for about half an hour which suggested to me that he missed having a good conversation.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXhlmQwpc1uKPcvS1YUOoIi7G2Bg9Zggxkx1E0IWW5BwN78gM9Q7xhXC-3nY6VQzes3vF78Tz9KsVrq_5J9_gQtTHm4Z0ODnbzndlbZmYbtxwofH4WGphQRR-qNJMjJZNeIIo7NNTDIG8/s3984/IMG_1426.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2656" data-original-width="3984" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXhlmQwpc1uKPcvS1YUOoIi7G2Bg9Zggxkx1E0IWW5BwN78gM9Q7xhXC-3nY6VQzes3vF78Tz9KsVrq_5J9_gQtTHm4Z0ODnbzndlbZmYbtxwofH4WGphQRR-qNJMjJZNeIIo7NNTDIG8/w391-h260/IMG_1426.JPG" width="391" /></a></div><p>It was a perfect area to camp, better than I ever could have expected on this track, but I had arrived at about 2pm, so it felt a bit early to stop. With what I thought was the whole Bloomfield track to do the following day, I asked the man whether there were any other camping areas further up the track. He replied no, but said that I could just camp in the bush and that there was nothing really dangerous in the forest except for Yowies and Hairy Men. I had no idea what they were so I asked him. He said that Yowies were giant hairy men that roamed the forest and only came into contact with those who were truly connected to nature (basically the Australian version on Bigfoot). The Hairy Men were as described, hairy men, but were pygmy-like and more numerous. He was being dead serious, so I was trying not to laugh.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjGKsxk2U9gaz-uLkXZAU4zwrdobTZb77LBYhAdOLT8zvcBeizqdMmpDuhygGON7DoKGJ1LVY8Qh86YlGjXo9DCEY0lypiSR82YAvM67EH85sdA1jT3SsA2zT89LxXPKLpSoBG0DtvWeU/s851/CREB+Map.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="644" data-original-width="851" height="437" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjGKsxk2U9gaz-uLkXZAU4zwrdobTZb77LBYhAdOLT8zvcBeizqdMmpDuhygGON7DoKGJ1LVY8Qh86YlGjXo9DCEY0lypiSR82YAvM67EH85sdA1jT3SsA2zT89LxXPKLpSoBG0DtvWeU/w480-h437/CREB+Map.PNG" width="480" /></a></div><p>Anyway, I decided to move on but not before taking a good rest and having an early supper. It really pained me to go on as it would have been a great place to camp the night. I ended up camping under one of the electricity pylons as it was on a flat piece of grassy ground (sort of). There were plenty of mosquitoes and it took me quite a while to cool down in the tent. A sweaty and uncomfortable night, but I did manage some sleep, although I had some concerns for the next day.</p><p>My chief concern was how I was going to get back to my car the next day. It seemed a mammoth task after the day I had. I knew the Bloomfield track would be a lot easier than the CREB but I still knew that the Bloomfield track was not for the faint-hearted either, with steep climbs and no services. I knew that the CREB had taken a lot out of me too. The other issue I had was that for most of the first half of the night it was raining. I was worried about the track condition the next day and whether I could get across the Bloomfield river, and whether it had any crocs! A quick, panicked glance at the map revealed that I at least didn't have to worry about crocodiles as the river crossing was at an elevation of about 200m. No crocs up there.</p><p>I was still concerned about the water level though, especially after waking up in the morning to lightning in the sky. Bizarrely, however, there were no clouds that I could see. Looking up, all I could see were a thousand stars and the MilkyWay, then suddenly a flash of light.</p><p>The storms were on the coast and I was still somewhat inland, so the first mission of the day was to get to the river and cross it nice and early before any heavy downpours arrived and swelled the river, so I set-off before 5.30am.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLhRA-jyuf-Xt3JXkX8FNXu-72ilZLHUrltgPHEVm6-XtP1aYErapScc2ysG9-gE6eqK91kbqV3mBMDbSyEQHD8D_OLTTZ_rukQ1tzPMPkj4dqIn_kakTSOlGM_pN7Ug2WY51mGPfXgzI/s3984/IMG_1437.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2656" data-original-width="3984" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLhRA-jyuf-Xt3JXkX8FNXu-72ilZLHUrltgPHEVm6-XtP1aYErapScc2ysG9-gE6eqK91kbqV3mBMDbSyEQHD8D_OLTTZ_rukQ1tzPMPkj4dqIn_kakTSOlGM_pN7Ug2WY51mGPfXgzI/w436-h289/IMG_1437.JPG" width="436" /></a></div><p>On the way I had a bit of a scare. There was pink tape blocking-off the track. I was now way too far in to turn back so I just ducked underneath it and hoped for the best. I had visions of a landslide devouring the route or something, but soon discovered that it must have been because of some backburning of the forest as most of the way after it was showing evidence of recent burns. It was beautiful though as the fire made tree leaves turn red and the earth black. Recent rains meant that bright green shoots and leaves on trees could be seen within the charred colours. It was like Autumn and Spring combined and made for a unique and pretty landscape.</p><p>I made it to the river in good time and crossed it with no problems at all. The only thing in my way after that was a steep descent onto the Bloomfield track. You'd think that would be fun, but actually I had to walk my bike down, so steep as it was. There were some really nice views to finish the track and it was much better than pushing the bike up the insane climbs on the previous day.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvqDL26IgjudRHhEijOLH-U8D5AmT5gGaHh_LB7z7tQmZ4YRHgEbGqI464C6dGLC1bKustv0MH2oFLFAyvv6GEmcQ7e1tBVRbhWtPQGwRF_1oAHVOkjDZu7t3cEKgubNw8qFSPQ5NqvC0/s3611/IMG_1439+%25282%2529.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2230" data-original-width="3611" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvqDL26IgjudRHhEijOLH-U8D5AmT5gGaHh_LB7z7tQmZ4YRHgEbGqI464C6dGLC1bKustv0MH2oFLFAyvv6GEmcQ7e1tBVRbhWtPQGwRF_1oAHVOkjDZu7t3cEKgubNw8qFSPQ5NqvC0/w465-h288/IMG_1439+%25282%2529.JPG" width="465" /></a></div><p>It was about 9am at this time and by then I had figured-out that I was never going to make it to my car by the end of the day, particularly as the Bloomfield track's surface was quite rough and corrugated in most places. I thought about flagging-down a vehicle that past me and seeing if I could hitch a lift. I knew that every vehicle going past would be a 4WD, and likely with space in the back for a bike. It did take 2 hours for me to see a car though and the first one overtook me on a steep descent in which I was doing my best to concentrate on not falling off the bike, so I missed my chance to hail him. The ascents were up to 30% incline, so I got a fair taster of my day to come. To be honest, they felt a good deal easier than the ascents on the CREB, so I dread to think what the incline was on there in some places.</p><p>Luckily, about 30 minutes later a car passed me going up a hill. Stupidly, I didn't flag him down and I thought I had missed my chance. However, so forlorn I must have looked, the driver stopped a little further up and offered me a lift up the hill. I simply asked him if I could go a little further. He happily accepted and we had a good chat on the way back to the river crossing where my car was parked. He was a great guy actually and I think we had a fair amount in common, so it was an enjoyable conversation. He was driving to Cairns to pick his mother up from the airport. He did drive incredibly fast down that track, but I was very glad I wasn't riding it. This kind chap truly saved my bacon.</p><p>Safely back to the car then and very relieved to be. As if by magic, the heavens started to open about 2 minutes down the road and didn't really stop for the rest of the day, sometimes being extremely heavy. Basically, I had avoided the day from hell by pulling up stumps and calling it a day a little early. Great decision, and the Bloomfield track will have to wait for another day. A real adventure squeezed into a day and a half, an eventful first major trip on the new bike.<br /><br />You can also check-out this vlog I did on this trip below:<br /><br /><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ZyWo9i9O8Gs" width="320" youtube-src-id="ZyWo9i9O8Gs"></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-51330022848901379902020-11-14T13:55:00.000-08:002020-11-14T13:55:20.110-08:00New Life, New Bike and a Kuranda Backroads Trial Run<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFP9DWVJts-R3oD5KGn0Za6P25SV0DCTWf1M2zQNNfnEW9mlBf9hduaO1JawXtE7imj0TLn7eT3g4H9zdZ6TFq9M61PQUA9uqXD-ihyDhvkdLYF4L03Ne0JzveJYG_CkbeVFLzek2Ctos/s2016/Kur1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="2016" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFP9DWVJts-R3oD5KGn0Za6P25SV0DCTWf1M2zQNNfnEW9mlBf9hduaO1JawXtE7imj0TLn7eT3g4H9zdZ6TFq9M61PQUA9uqXD-ihyDhvkdLYF4L03Ne0JzveJYG_CkbeVFLzek2Ctos/w436-h245/Kur1.jpg" width="436" /></a></div><br /><p>It's been a year since my last trip out on the bike. The last time was near Melbourne with my buddy Pete, but I have since made my way up to Far North Queensland to the stunning Northern Beaches area of Cairns (just in time to avoid the lockdowns in Melbourne, I might add).</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUsODtbSKH0WcHBgoYHq6hPYv5Y_xUdze6YyGw1zfSj4NtMaY2Jn2ka9WYJwONzMLeIUYK_1XtqngzmJByHVgbnts8JMHeNv5owd1l3OEOSufTZTH5NvB0rjT8AxV40ZKKS4-uug3Kwzk/s2016/Lizzie+Double+Island.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="2016" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUsODtbSKH0WcHBgoYHq6hPYv5Y_xUdze6YyGw1zfSj4NtMaY2Jn2ka9WYJwONzMLeIUYK_1XtqngzmJByHVgbnts8JMHeNv5owd1l3OEOSufTZTH5NvB0rjT8AxV40ZKKS4-uug3Kwzk/w413-h266/Lizzie+Double+Island.jpg" width="413" /></a></div><p></p><p>Last November we decided Melbourne was no place to settle-down and raise a child, and I had wanted to get out of the big city for a while, so we decided on my favourite place on my travels around Australia. If you had followed my blog before, maybe you'll remember that I had nothing but praise for Cairns. I really loved New Zealand also, but Cairns was definitely my highlight of Australia. If you are a nature-loving person, there aren't many better places than this area of the world; mountains, rainforest, The Great Barrier Reef, waterfalls, and weird and wonderful wildlife. Indeed David Attenborough himself described Far North Queensland as his favourite place on the planet.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzI6ALEKVuxJomDNUX7O-KM8kecY_lPHFgU3a3WlVOmCq3sjnY1a2dYHxHB2k0Th29DlKD7ZVUn0eO8x3u1fRw38P-uJZPblHwb7rf1feNOieTK2K17V39ZB-NbW6gQwD_AOQo3l1F-_A/s960/Great+Barrier+Reef.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzI6ALEKVuxJomDNUX7O-KM8kecY_lPHFgU3a3WlVOmCq3sjnY1a2dYHxHB2k0Th29DlKD7ZVUn0eO8x3u1fRw38P-uJZPblHwb7rf1feNOieTK2K17V39ZB-NbW6gQwD_AOQo3l1F-_A/w421-h236/Great+Barrier+Reef.jpg" width="421" /></a></div><p>It has taken me a while to get back on the bike, however. Having a baby and settling-in to a totally different life will do that. When you add all the troubles of 2020 on top of that, and the fact that these troubles have made it impossible for any family to come and visit us, then maybe you can understand that I had precious little free time when it is only the two of us looking after a baby. Things have settled-down though and with some routine, I have been able to find time for some more adventures.</p><p>Things do have to change though. It would be a bit difficult - not to mention irresponsible - for me to go on tours for weeks and months like I had previously, so a different strategy is required. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiahryQ8KKizZyN0gpz4ScMoq6qnUEAWMBBHw27Unx839XVK8a-0dBHx5hCbztLuXs9YyNoeOoX7C9K7TAkW0Rh3hswQxV2xRl_44CH1u5h3KsGd3byuSgU-R346mT5WaJsm8wJuebIin8/s4032/20200501_073635.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiahryQ8KKizZyN0gpz4ScMoq6qnUEAWMBBHw27Unx839XVK8a-0dBHx5hCbztLuXs9YyNoeOoX7C9K7TAkW0Rh3hswQxV2xRl_44CH1u5h3KsGd3byuSgU-R346mT5WaJsm8wJuebIin8/w379-h213/20200501_073635.jpg" width="379" /></a></div><p>Forgetting the bike for a moment, I have been able to do some adventuring on a limited basis because this part of the world is an adventure sportsman's paradise. Hiking, trail running, scuba diving, snorkeling, kayaking, and camping are just a few of the fantastic activities on my doorstep at the moment and I have taken advantage of this as best I can.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNItp2DFbwDy6kxfl-FyFDKkCw9TmdAM-wp5DsTaGUTaL6jYpx_ltzKGnLzsBhB6tltu0GPXp9OsUNPVHedrOk6fEB-2Xz8s6SJ1Rmizjg9tav8kwbGPBj0ogGUyXgEvPL_zaaiCZPAXE/s4032/20200531_072221.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2268" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNItp2DFbwDy6kxfl-FyFDKkCw9TmdAM-wp5DsTaGUTaL6jYpx_ltzKGnLzsBhB6tltu0GPXp9OsUNPVHedrOk6fEB-2Xz8s6SJ1Rmizjg9tav8kwbGPBj0ogGUyXgEvPL_zaaiCZPAXE/w427-h240/20200531_072221.jpg" width="427" /></a></div><p>Although I have occasionally drifted onto other areas of adventure on this blog, the main focus is on the bike, so it is good to get things going again in that regard. </p><p>With the trusty Soma back in the UK and probably not best suited to the roads or the way I intend to tour for the foreseeable future, a new bike was required. I intend only to do overnight trips or perhaps 3 days maximum (if I am lucky) until my wife and I can get some family over here for support. Even then, I can't see myself doing anything longer than a week for quite a while. The back roads in this area of the world are often not sealed and there are plenty of rough tracks also, so it seemed a perfect opportunity to get properly into bikepacking using a gravel bike.</p><p>Gravel bikes are designed to tackle the rough roads, but still have many of the advantages of a road bike, i.e. that you can still cover good distance at reasonable speed on sealed roads. It seemed a perfect option for bicycle touring in this part of the world.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgojUFO26X4QXGgbV_yc8LJ1PtdGomCTW_0H0C4Y-m-GH1-Zsvf65GOOsUwZJisfnYO2S5JXFwJOhCoKd11OUZbDygvODA9YG46t_ZvRWVvx4YivjjM7QIm_zPlDbpvVoGHPKXVoPl9LJM/s3984/IMG_1332.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2656" data-original-width="3984" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgojUFO26X4QXGgbV_yc8LJ1PtdGomCTW_0H0C4Y-m-GH1-Zsvf65GOOsUwZJisfnYO2S5JXFwJOhCoKd11OUZbDygvODA9YG46t_ZvRWVvx4YivjjM7QIm_zPlDbpvVoGHPKXVoPl9LJM/w420-h280/IMG_1332.JPG" width="420" /></a></div><br /><p>Seeing as I wasn't going to be doing any particularly long trips far away from home, I settled on a budget gravel bike after a bit of research. I found the Marin Nicasio + to fit the bill nicely, which I bought from Bicycles Online. Not too expensive at about $1100 (AUD), but a solid steel frame with plenty of places to mount gear. It is also quite a pretty bike, I think. I am very happy with it so far after a bit of riding around the area where I live, and it is much quicker on the tarmac than I would have thought with the wider tyres. The one drawback could be the limited gearing to help me get up the big climbs, but I can always walk it up the steep sections if need be.</p><p>After some acclimatising to the saddle (I hadn't cycled in quite some time), the first thing to do was a little trial run, so I headed up the Kuranda range in the car with the bicycle and sought-out a dirt road circuit I could do in a morning.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMvSE_LgIcm0faaQZdR5zE_VXy80yZSep5UW-cHZ7i83g503wBb8Eo66clmHY0dn-fOnrJ4wBDGFWAMQ4MsFWK5fne-w5UKYCR_Vza85O5XCBbAWCmXUDBfgt5kVLuFKlSCz629811II4/s624/Kuranda+back+roads+summary.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="120" data-original-width="624" height="111" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMvSE_LgIcm0faaQZdR5zE_VXy80yZSep5UW-cHZ7i83g503wBb8Eo66clmHY0dn-fOnrJ4wBDGFWAMQ4MsFWK5fne-w5UKYCR_Vza85O5XCBbAWCmXUDBfgt5kVLuFKlSCz629811II4/w573-h111/Kuranda+back+roads+summary.PNG" width="573" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjciX7jhAr2fuEbUTjrogwK1DRGdVh-9C3vPuFDkIH1qbDkpvgQdVPXL2PUdwm6O0hjkev3yMof7VndKD_xexOMjLNHY2IfcpQCUJxUZ1MkDq_7HBKwAlkcLFP-i_IBuF1uZXtReWKYkDc/s881/Kuranda+backroads+profile.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="665" data-original-width="881" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjciX7jhAr2fuEbUTjrogwK1DRGdVh-9C3vPuFDkIH1qbDkpvgQdVPXL2PUdwm6O0hjkev3yMof7VndKD_xexOMjLNHY2IfcpQCUJxUZ1MkDq_7HBKwAlkcLFP-i_IBuF1uZXtReWKYkDc/w559-h424/Kuranda+backroads+profile.PNG" width="559" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtf3LvcqT4QDYqclS2zYbnw81TVCgCtdjJ8na2in0CdwV3d4hFg_P4R095eAEmdP20CYdvNk395FnuinRe0t00HS8HxupjkmOYOL_pgSZw3sHzmSHDb9Twz9bZuTJ-IQWz5J_SkvOEVz4/s898/Kuranda+backroads.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="693" data-original-width="898" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtf3LvcqT4QDYqclS2zYbnw81TVCgCtdjJ8na2in0CdwV3d4hFg_P4R095eAEmdP20CYdvNk395FnuinRe0t00HS8HxupjkmOYOL_pgSZw3sHzmSHDb9Twz9bZuTJ-IQWz5J_SkvOEVz4/w504-h318/Kuranda+backroads.PNG" width="504" /></a></div><br /><p>I am now using the app Komoot to help with route planning as some more detailed and downloadable maps are required when you head further off the beaten track and away from people and traffic.</p><p>At about 45Km it seemed a good little workout for me and the bike. I also used the opportunity to try some different bag set ups and do some video while touring for the first time (on my own, I did a little with my friend in the Grampians in Victoria last year). I am a fan of a few bicycle touring vloggers on YouTube, although I am pretty fussy. There only seem to be a few that are worth watching to me. Here is a list below of some of my favourites:</p><p>CyclingAbout - <a href="https://www.youtube.com/user/CyclingAboutOfficial">https://www.youtube.com/user/CyclingAboutOfficial</a></p><p>Wheels to Wander - <a href="https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCRooai9NLae8V4lijcYaO2g">https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCRooai9NLae8V4lijcYaO2g</a></p><p>Bicycle Touring Pro - <a href="https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCCGE4MRedy8pXEdJb9Vsx-g">https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCCGE4MRedy8pXEdJb9Vsx-g</a></p><p>Iohan Gueorguiev (See the World) - <a href="https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCqiYX6cqxQI9CqhH_kvHeOw">https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCqiYX6cqxQI9CqhH_kvHeOw</a></p><p>They are all quite different in their style; Cyclingabout's creator Alee Denham is extremely knowledgeable about bikes and very extreme in his route planning. He takes very technical routes and does the seemingly impossible on a touring bike. What also encourages me about him is that his early videos were terrible, yet now they are absolutely magnificent.</p><p>Wheels to Wander are a Dutch couple who at the time of writing have been on a world tour for about a year and a half. While also very adventurous in their route planning too, they capture the everyday life of bicycle touring very authentically. From simple things like making coffee and breakfast to documenting frustrations and joys with locals, it is quite low-key but very genuine and brings back fond memories of my longer bicycle tours.</p><p>Bicycle Touring Pro is very practical, with lots of tips with his vast experience of bicycle touring. He also engages in a wide variety of bicycle tours and caters to almost everyone.</p><p>Iohan Guerguiev is the quintessential romantic adventurer. He makes long, beautiful videos and has a quite charming personality. He is clearly a great lover of adventure, nature, and animals, and it shines through in his videos. His journeys through the Americas have been nothing short of epic, and man does he make me want to cycle in the Andes one day.</p><p>I don't aspire to be YouTube stars like these guys, but it did occur to me how nice it would be to be able to look back on some of my adventures. I often return to this blog as a reminder of what I have done. Pictures and words are great, but obviously video would add an extra dimension and there is a joy in creating something in an age of mostly consumption.</p><p>Videoing a tour does take quite a bit of time and effort, so with shorter tours on quieter routes, it seemed like I could manage this with little stress. On this first venture out on the new bike, I gave it a go and I was quite pleased with the result. Doing some video also had the positive effect of slowing me down a little and giving my butt a rest from the saddle. I really felt no discomfort the whole day, so I think I'll do a few more videos in the future.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9DqEbhduvC8" width="320" youtube-src-id="9DqEbhduvC8"></iframe></div><br /><p>It is really nice to look at a map sometimes and plan a route with no expectations of particular places of interest and no idea of what to expect, then going out and enjoying a really beautiful ride. Surprises also regularly come along. The first was seeing a cassowary about 5 minutes in, and shortly after seeing a naked forest man on the side of the road admiring it. He must of owned the house he was standing in front of, which was the last one before the road wound deeply into the forest.</p><p>The route was an amazingly good one considering I had never heard or seen anything of interest in the area, and a perfect test for me and the bike. Mostly unsealed with only a couple of stiff climbs, it was an excellent reintroduction to a bit of touring and some bikepacking.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYgoSizsW9-5XgoqAg5dmTp4qSRLs6-6mSXkmdx0pugHBfkz9FjVLnGUHrUsMGW738ikSPtn5UrMbn79QKzTHvpHDy_3FEyA8oalT_XtNkr9vDl7Dy10LYjpwwFipZp8skwQkGYFsjduQ/s2016/Kur7.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1134" data-original-width="2016" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYgoSizsW9-5XgoqAg5dmTp4qSRLs6-6mSXkmdx0pugHBfkz9FjVLnGUHrUsMGW738ikSPtn5UrMbn79QKzTHvpHDy_3FEyA8oalT_XtNkr9vDl7Dy10LYjpwwFipZp8skwQkGYFsjduQ/w465-h262/Kur7.jpg" width="465" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not bad for adventure on my doorstep.</td></tr></tbody></table><p>All I have to do now is load-up the bike with a bit more gear and do an overnighter. However, the wet season is coming up, so I'll have to be quick. I'll probably try to do one before the end of the year as long as the weather holds up. It will be a hot one though, and although it is still dry at the moment, the temperatures are in the mid-thirties. This is just one of many challenges in this part of the world, but my kind of paradise isn't just about kicking back and enjoying the beach life, it entails a bit of suffering as well. More to come in that regard.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><p><br /></p>Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-18785803700166312432019-11-15T18:17:00.000-08:002019-11-15T18:17:42.876-08:00Lerderderg State Park Bikepacking Overnighter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji8OBJwP_9uah2Vfxh4AmInM4WuTn_MGSKGwpP9FgyasNbZHfP7dceWuM6NiLc6XWWaZ_IzyuaLEkj9Upg5ND9zgevQQlGHd2uC9TOFUUMo2J2r2_3bjhK6k5RzoKNR8b4tbixSYKkoWU/s1600/Lerderberg+State+Park+Bikepacking.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="533" data-original-width="1199" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji8OBJwP_9uah2Vfxh4AmInM4WuTn_MGSKGwpP9FgyasNbZHfP7dceWuM6NiLc6XWWaZ_IzyuaLEkj9Upg5ND9zgevQQlGHd2uC9TOFUUMo2J2r2_3bjhK6k5RzoKNR8b4tbixSYKkoWU/s640/Lerderberg+State+Park+Bikepacking.PNG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip-enMEJptkMW-4AbairaBSLbBvXB23zEpc-HnxDIZAJUeEHo5XyA8S1WUAsYvLrLpAfwZ6VQQ7hNUhf7DOFWdQ7UNdUpV9o69PTxHIfd6oH2v6kw-bJ3vgMzp74VxiGkRRMvXQLhAggo/s1600/Lerderberg+Bikepack+profile.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="139" data-original-width="443" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip-enMEJptkMW-4AbairaBSLbBvXB23zEpc-HnxDIZAJUeEHo5XyA8S1WUAsYvLrLpAfwZ6VQQ7hNUhf7DOFWdQ7UNdUpV9o69PTxHIfd6oH2v6kw-bJ3vgMzp74VxiGkRRMvXQLhAggo/s400/Lerderberg+Bikepack+profile.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Continuing the bikepacking experiment, we decided to learn our lesson from the Grampians and take things a bit easier on the next trip through Lerderderg State Park, just north of Melbourne.<br />
<br />
My mate Peter was staying and working on a stud farm/camping facility a little north of Melton, so I decided to meet him there. I took the Metro train out to Diggers Rest and then cycled about 17km in windy conditions early in the morning on a public holiday here in Melbourne because of the AFL (Aussie Rules Football) grand final weekend. Yes, they really do have a day-off here in Victoria for a footy match, even though the public holiday, which is on a Friday, is not even on the day of the match.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWEzfo_ZPJbkIchAL1meh0u2LjrYUxoSRhQ9Gpe5SD8D7OkDwU567cv9xrCkR-YLJDRt0yICnNC0tfz7LNnquNKNuUNFdEK82JeoBVD7wIBrcRegnnyxrFIz2oBrasZrnQtryg8u1ByxM/s1600/Into+Lerderberg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWEzfo_ZPJbkIchAL1meh0u2LjrYUxoSRhQ9Gpe5SD8D7OkDwU567cv9xrCkR-YLJDRt0yICnNC0tfz7LNnquNKNuUNFdEK82JeoBVD7wIBrcRegnnyxrFIz2oBrasZrnQtryg8u1ByxM/s400/Into+Lerderberg.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
After having a short coffee break at Pete's we had about 15km to get off the main roads and into the park itself, then t was all dirt tracks through the park, exactly what we were looking for.<br />
<br />
I only had to do about 60Km in total for that first day, giving us just a short trip to Ballan station and the train home in the morning. 60Km is absolutely nothing on sealed roads with a good touring bike, but as we discovered from the Grampians trip, we don't have good bikes and traveling off the tarmac is definitely more challenging and you really have to scale-down what you previously thought possible in a day. I was exhausted from the week previous also having done a lot of physical exercise, so that 60Km on the first day was enough for me.<br />
<br />
Despite it being a public holiday, there wasn't very many people around and the park itself was much more vast than I had imagined. The tracks followed the ridgeline most of the way, giving splendid views of the surrounding ranges. It was just what I was looking for in a two day bikepacking trip.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOR83BSow_2s5fb3DoF42oIeQSas9NKnOzHajZYlx4Ev8Y1d2tmsZix-5pMG5DHmBbnkh_j7Nw0WCcSW05d5aPE71V2SFv3z2_4Fzi-jJGQtdND4hK24hJ2LFtbqZs70NDJCZ3qhEJ8xI/s1600/Pete%2527s+helmet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOR83BSow_2s5fb3DoF42oIeQSas9NKnOzHajZYlx4Ev8Y1d2tmsZix-5pMG5DHmBbnkh_j7Nw0WCcSW05d5aPE71V2SFv3z2_4Fzi-jJGQtdND4hK24hJ2LFtbqZs70NDJCZ3qhEJ8xI/s400/Pete%2527s+helmet.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pete's wacky-looking helmet is designed to ward-off the swooping magpies at this time of year.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As always in Australia, the area doesn't look particularly big on the map but seems extremely vast in reality and I was extremely surprised by the scale of the place, which was exactly what I was after, the sense of wilderness so close to home.<br />
<br />
After following the ridgeline for most of the day, we finally dipped down to the river into a very nice picnic area, which would have been perfect for an overnight camp, and clearly used to be a camping area. However, as is common in Australia, this area was filled with no camping signs so we decided to move on. It took a bit of searching, but we found an excellent camping spot down one of the smaller trails, well away from the roadside.<br />
<br />
So far I have found the ease and quality of free camping areas one of the best things about bikepacking. There is absolutely no worries about being discovered and you can pick and choose some really nice spots. Incredibly also, due to the wonders of modern technology, I have typically had a 4G signal everywhere so far. Not that it really has ever mattered as the second I have settled into my sleeping bag, I tend to fall asleep. I was already super-tired before the 60Km, so I slept like a baby, getting in over ten hours without any trouble at all.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI3UXNFn1De7OZ8SSpGyda6ry92ZEv2LGTGBFKk0XiS3r4FB6_xqApof2pQHRkA-bzxbfXwgjyAZSWYO_T7pblUlLtjjejrl2nSZuBuM5Z9z0fy7cVcn32uhLQnD2b2zXqlu1qizBU_6w/s1600/Into+Ballan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI3UXNFn1De7OZ8SSpGyda6ry92ZEv2LGTGBFKk0XiS3r4FB6_xqApof2pQHRkA-bzxbfXwgjyAZSWYO_T7pblUlLtjjejrl2nSZuBuM5Z9z0fy7cVcn32uhLQnD2b2zXqlu1qizBU_6w/s400/Into+Ballan.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The weather had been a bit strange on that first day, pleasantly warm up until about 1pm and then bitterly cold as a front moved in, but we were lucky there was not much rain. The next morning was pretty cold, but the sun was out and we only had 5Km to get out of the park and onto sealed roads to make our way to Ballan train station. This was a surprisingly attractive cycle as we went through the rolling hills of the surrounding countryside.<br />
<br />
I had forgotten about the AFL Grand Final, and noticed a few supporters waiting to get on the train and worried we might not be able to get on with our bikes, but everything turned-out well. Again, the bikes got through another test - although Pete's rack snapped after getting some shopping on the way home.<br />
<br />
A few more trips planned, but now it will likely be on my own as Pete will be going back home to the UK very soon. I've enjoyed the company and the new way of doing things and the first couple of trips will certainly have prepared me well for future solo adventures.Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-70116334815841612042019-09-11T19:45:00.000-07:002019-09-11T19:45:14.643-07:00The Grampians 3-Day Bikepacking Trip<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFGEI3uh1Y0Xh0DBHU8NeHnB8VZf3uE5V34HlDLTtNZnie3DdCE8vnBA-UfQr9XiLBWNZnvMliGSvhj70EXpH4vXmyx4LlN8PrLXYEzfv2BlSGHSjSKOCbj9-W5xJYwq1PANHu5uNzfvQ/s1600/IMG_0580+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1218" data-original-width="1600" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFGEI3uh1Y0Xh0DBHU8NeHnB8VZf3uE5V34HlDLTtNZnie3DdCE8vnBA-UfQr9XiLBWNZnvMliGSvhj70EXpH4vXmyx4LlN8PrLXYEzfv2BlSGHSjSKOCbj9-W5xJYwq1PANHu5uNzfvQ/s400/IMG_0580+%25282%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I did feel for Pete lugging that big ol' girls bike up those hills with all the weight on the back, I think my set-up was a bit kinder to me.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I'm back in Australia now and without my trusty Soma touring bike, however, I was looking for a slight change in direction anyway with regards to adventuring.<br />
<br />
While I was in England, I really got into watching Iohan Gueorguiev's "See the World" series of documentaries. If you haven't checked him out on YouTube already, you should definitely watch some of his inspiring videos. Iohan goes not just off-road, but regularly off the map and documents it all very well. I don't have the time for such ambitious riding, but he certainly made me interested in doing some bikepacking trips.<br />
<br />
Bikepacking differs slightly from bicycle touring in that it is mainly on isolated dirt roads and trails. You generally see less people, but you get really up close and personal with nature and it does feel like even more of an adventure. With it comes some more problems, like sourcing water and food, and you obviously are further away from any support if you run into trouble, so you need to be a little more prepared.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjegzt0zccE76ytIvbZiSmOBwF_j4jIaHD3ie2sxO9c4C8rb5pBw9hj9uUlGNhtYVlxNCQv6hNILXFw5rFnsAHBZ7iamzLPpq4i55jqhASwUjCYDtfGhpi1ZsZ87qlqOniRjFwKLbk6k1Y/s1600/Grampains+Tour.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="487" data-original-width="684" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjegzt0zccE76ytIvbZiSmOBwF_j4jIaHD3ie2sxO9c4C8rb5pBw9hj9uUlGNhtYVlxNCQv6hNILXFw5rFnsAHBZ7iamzLPpq4i55jqhASwUjCYDtfGhpi1ZsZ87qlqOniRjFwKLbk6k1Y/s400/Grampains+Tour.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6VEO3UDKL2-CLiLCvjW_a0F67aERXDDOHEwh7YbOOSR0r3T5kttdkiORvowpbVvbcBdVgeDW2aQ-MllE9_hZ-FPp3DzqmslIINq0Qmq4y2DED5eWwkwdvMI_4CBNZxCLw2KFkUjWZAtg/s1600/Grampains+Tour+Profile.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="139" data-original-width="439" height="126" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6VEO3UDKL2-CLiLCvjW_a0F67aERXDDOHEwh7YbOOSR0r3T5kttdkiORvowpbVvbcBdVgeDW2aQ-MllE9_hZ-FPp3DzqmslIINq0Qmq4y2DED5eWwkwdvMI_4CBNZxCLw2KFkUjWZAtg/s400/Grampains+Tour+Profile.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
For my first venture out then, I chose the Grampians in Victoria, here in Australia. This is a pretty little mountainous area North-West of Melbourne. I was riding my housemate's abandoned bike that he left to rust in the back garden; after a little bit of attention, it seemed as if it could stand up to a few short tours, so I thought I'd give it a go.<br />
<br />
New bike, new kind of touring, and instead of doing it all on my own, this time I was joined by my friend Peter from England, who is in Melbourne for a few months. This was the chap that was partly responsible for inspiring me to give bicycle touring a go in the first place after his trip from South Korea to England a few years ago.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpxvnst_TXmLDcRBRuxsuA46U8RaqcxGmVtunMsJSN9e4oKlg_5w880eMEt8ecRcx1YQSdh28w8iZqg7-mC3c_TOSgzSlnqxncBwI68oKZ32D-oMMcgfKT9BWuey8ibD0rv9dtP2Yu6zA/s1600/Bikepacking+set-up.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpxvnst_TXmLDcRBRuxsuA46U8RaqcxGmVtunMsJSN9e4oKlg_5w880eMEt8ecRcx1YQSdh28w8iZqg7-mC3c_TOSgzSlnqxncBwI68oKZ32D-oMMcgfKT9BWuey8ibD0rv9dtP2Yu6zA/s400/Bikepacking+set-up.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She kind of looks the part, especially for a free bike.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Between us we were riding bikes that had cost us a total of $10. I got mine for free, and he paid $10 for his girls bike - but who cares right, it did the job after all. I did buy some panniers and a handlebar bag online, which totalled to a little over $100, but even so, this was travelling on a budget, especially as we wild camped every night.<br />
<br />
From Melbourne, we took a train for about 2 and a half hours to the small town of Ararat. From there it was an easy 40Km or so to our first wild camp spot about 5Km outside of Halls Gap. I had an idea where this would be before hand but was happy to find a reasonable area in the trees.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGXr8h0ENJR3QOM6bAMU_MBenrRl_JwdhzYL1jq9SvKosLvD96zfBzR_KXhEMMoHpGx_hf0pBXrQR0zBJFR2bucS2e5X_MAfw5qTiNDgyCUnl1RwDiPvo7B8rFI9ePICiKqAc9JnVb3aI/s1600/IMG_0540+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="952" data-original-width="1600" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGXr8h0ENJR3QOM6bAMU_MBenrRl_JwdhzYL1jq9SvKosLvD96zfBzR_KXhEMMoHpGx_hf0pBXrQR0zBJFR2bucS2e5X_MAfw5qTiNDgyCUnl1RwDiPvo7B8rFI9ePICiKqAc9JnVb3aI/s400/IMG_0540+%25282%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Day 1 campsite in the trees with Pete and his family-sized tent.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The first night was extremely cold, which tested my new sleeping bag. By the time I had switched my phone on in the morning, the mercury had dropped to about -2 degrees Celsius. We were in the last throws of Winter, so this wasn't too surprising, but it did make for a slightly uncomfortable morning until the sun started shining and then the cold dissipated pretty quickly.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJL7Mp81N0Ms6ETLamJ6FfzG0udQSlzJ-DdiXKT5cBi-UkBYHw_mAaXm33DIcyESN9nnUqRFoo5RqBr-BJhyF4DdIlKbAgmtI0cXfCPUYf-r5ZvtgFoWGg6i7IbCIBS0VE6dIQbkdRPEM/s1600/Coffe+time.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: #0066cc; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJL7Mp81N0Ms6ETLamJ6FfzG0udQSlzJ-DdiXKT5cBi-UkBYHw_mAaXm33DIcyESN9nnUqRFoo5RqBr-BJhyF4DdIlKbAgmtI0cXfCPUYf-r5ZvtgFoWGg6i7IbCIBS0VE6dIQbkdRPEM/s400/Coffe+time.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The cold didn't stop the kangaroos coming out to feast on the frosty grass and they were present in the hundreds in the fields beside the road around Halls Gap. We decided to stop and have a coffee and a sit down for 45 minutes to warm up. Just holding the coffee cup brought feeling back into my fingers.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRudf2pvx0TYOyrIzk8jpr2TOU4GjANAlbi9GRFh5llrZCulgLzqNKq3yXnmtq4qCKNOE4y4p4BRq3SqESbvb_RvU7N17HDkVRJQHR9C_i2vBfHuwfl96UCEc7-ob8bjbZHxERj4pu6a0/s1600/IMG_0543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRudf2pvx0TYOyrIzk8jpr2TOU4GjANAlbi9GRFh5llrZCulgLzqNKq3yXnmtq4qCKNOE4y4p4BRq3SqESbvb_RvU7N17HDkVRJQHR9C_i2vBfHuwfl96UCEc7-ob8bjbZHxERj4pu6a0/s400/IMG_0543.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Our plan was to head South and cut into the main part of the Grampians and from there take dirt roads and 4-wheel drive tracks and loop back to Halls Gap and then back to Ararat. This being my first bikepacking trip - although I have done some off-road sections before on my touring bike - I didn't really know what to expect, but I figured about 70Km a day wouldn't be too arduous.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyYbl1KPVTrreSNBIwIE7e5SD2PC1acmiL9r7TVOGz86JedIHeKOHy14kC2wIR_LzW9jLiotqiObZC7uLjtWu2ZliWT5TW_T_1r3jkBAKg4NZx6eiQ3EtFzfsAvwHo8ELKxv6ZjhoGftE/s1600/IMG_0554.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyYbl1KPVTrreSNBIwIE7e5SD2PC1acmiL9r7TVOGz86JedIHeKOHy14kC2wIR_LzW9jLiotqiObZC7uLjtWu2ZliWT5TW_T_1r3jkBAKg4NZx6eiQ3EtFzfsAvwHo8ELKxv6ZjhoGftE/s400/IMG_0554.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
As soon as we turned off the tarmac, we were confronted with a climb, but nothing too major and the road then flattened-out nicely. There were campsites aplenty just off the side of the track all day, but we planned to finish at about 5pm and typically at this time there was nothing and we were climbing again, on often very sandy 4-wheel drive tracks, which started to take its toll on us.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKhwcW_fd9dsAP4K2g95QL78vyHjrhgZegRCOIy080Nz6FAkHa2YwHcqyqHmoL4g2lk4jVJqvU5jEHBkF2x0Z7IEZnhFDCSs8_AfreRAyn5h97ka90YbzrFC9TRxmMbIN4ss_FF8ffgVs/s1600/Sandy+tracks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKhwcW_fd9dsAP4K2g95QL78vyHjrhgZegRCOIy080Nz6FAkHa2YwHcqyqHmoL4g2lk4jVJqvU5jEHBkF2x0Z7IEZnhFDCSs8_AfreRAyn5h97ka90YbzrFC9TRxmMbIN4ss_FF8ffgVs/s400/Sandy+tracks.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandy tracks made for difficult riding and there were few camping opportunities as the sun was going down on day 2.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Fortunately, as we were getting desperate to set-up camp we found an excellent spot which already had an area for a fire and some nice flat ground between the trees. We got a fire going and cooked-up some dinner. I don't normally bring a camping stove with me, so a hot dinner was definitely welcome, as well as some warmth in the morning and a hot porridge breakfast. I think in future I might start bringing a stove with me on trips again. I need a bit more luxury as I get older.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLucf3yyqC8EUyzwNRInvZU5zQegVsGzcXyV8b0FH1uR_Vj58WNpDbNH9nbCToAJqCVyRfd0WTIKI-orOk_AJRsDzhA0xSHkQJU-UrGKapZeZOfMDIRgZksRXJf4c_T5FEFkA2RSKIIZc/s1600/IMG_0562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLucf3yyqC8EUyzwNRInvZU5zQegVsGzcXyV8b0FH1uR_Vj58WNpDbNH9nbCToAJqCVyRfd0WTIKI-orOk_AJRsDzhA0xSHkQJU-UrGKapZeZOfMDIRgZksRXJf4c_T5FEFkA2RSKIIZc/s400/IMG_0562.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
It had been a hard day, but a cracking camp to finish, and although we had been in the trees most of the day we did manage to find the odd lookout point to get an idea of the lay of the land.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgHH0VF6mKoD-ryZHUsJe8B7AC6EYVv2dlnb4f37GfRGYITGGrjZHsJJTcg6fb3cCTp51R4tugOEMAojSMEy-vTECMr-HsfOCj2iYEDCs4aa6A4ZISgPHbL8_juf1qTbGkFC7FLVr9X1Y/s1600/IMG_0565.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgHH0VF6mKoD-ryZHUsJe8B7AC6EYVv2dlnb4f37GfRGYITGGrjZHsJJTcg6fb3cCTp51R4tugOEMAojSMEy-vTECMr-HsfOCj2iYEDCs4aa6A4ZISgPHbL8_juf1qTbGkFC7FLVr9X1Y/s400/IMG_0565.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The perfect campsite to end day 2.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
On the morning of day 3 we knew we had a bit of a climb after an exhilarating downhill section on the 4-wheel drive tracks. The ascent was back on the asphalt, however, so it wasn't too difficult. We were heading to Mackenzie Falls, one of the popular attractions of the area. I had been there a few years previously with my mum when she visited us in Melbourne in the summer, but this time we were the only one's there and the walk seemed shorter and easier than before.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAQwqcvNU6qIZfOkZl4GTWoI23WPZafFFOvgdHSJ1ilRQXNh0E5p_8SmfHh5qtnJQxaOzNB5lvESd18GTIMyT-EnIQdFaOFm6_c2h-e8x8BxYX01jx09u_8VVYh-4sB2uuNnfclxqckzU/s1600/IMG_0577.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAQwqcvNU6qIZfOkZl4GTWoI23WPZafFFOvgdHSJ1ilRQXNh0E5p_8SmfHh5qtnJQxaOzNB5lvESd18GTIMyT-EnIQdFaOFm6_c2h-e8x8BxYX01jx09u_8VVYh-4sB2uuNnfclxqckzU/s400/IMG_0577.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Victoria is not an especially famous part of Australia for waterfalls, but this is quite a nice one and a bit of time walking without the bikes was much needed.<br />
<br />
Our next target was to get to Boroka lookout via the long road around the reservoir, which was quite aptly named, "Mount Difficult Road". It started innocuously enough, fairly flat around the reservoir, but then began rising steeply for what seemed like forever up to the lookout. Pete was suffering, which I think was chiefly down to his set-up and the extra weight he was carrying, I was tired but wasn't feeling completely spent.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzsFXD2QoMWRPHsf2bORl5ocul35mmDvUZtuSw8ZIRsrWGecPRVA55j_HxpaOQa9dzldLbP497aSlmBiVpsa6xFtiU1k0naQsWY4DGXSxPuCZKtw4oF2zywVa0Pk9tOJwuVN-pjQyjs7c/s1600/Mt+Difficult+road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzsFXD2QoMWRPHsf2bORl5ocul35mmDvUZtuSw8ZIRsrWGecPRVA55j_HxpaOQa9dzldLbP497aSlmBiVpsa6xFtiU1k0naQsWY4DGXSxPuCZKtw4oF2zywVa0Pk9tOJwuVN-pjQyjs7c/s400/Mt+Difficult+road.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taking a break halfway up Mt Difficult Road</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After reaching Boroka Lookout, we decided to have a bit of a powernap and chill out with the beautiful view of the Grampians as a background. Hard work done we had an easy roll downhill into Halls Gap. It is at such times when you tend to gorge yourself on food, and we sat down for a good couple of hours until I realised the weather forecast was predicting rain in the morning and with this in mind it might be a good idea to get as early a train possible back to Melbourne.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSvJLw-6RknH_2msiFw83qi0kd_3dkXkdgfF29HVyxqpbGaWT9szCOrPoRDay2dVYLQzJqi1A_8nuzzWKcUOeZXM8R7fIEyS8npFpDOPYmNCF5yiNCIWlrCCj1COLiSsFPGU1KZODXXL4/s1600/IMG_0584.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSvJLw-6RknH_2msiFw83qi0kd_3dkXkdgfF29HVyxqpbGaWT9szCOrPoRDay2dVYLQzJqi1A_8nuzzWKcUOeZXM8R7fIEyS8npFpDOPYmNCF5yiNCIWlrCCj1COLiSsFPGU1KZODXXL4/s400/IMG_0584.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Despite the cold mornings, we had unbelievable weather over the trip; for two whole days we didn't even see a cloud and the daytime temperatures were very pleasant. In hindsight this was lucky as those sandy 4-wheel drive tracks would have been even worse had they been wet. From my other tours in Australia, I have learned that unsealed roads here can be a bit of a lottery, sometimes sandy, sometimes rutted, bumpy, and potholed. At least now - as strange as it sounds with a free bike - I have the kind of bike that can take it with a bit of a suspension and wider tyres.<br />
<br />
Looking at the forecast, and with a couple of hours still left in the day, I persuaded Pete to push on and try to get within striking distance of Ararat for the early 8.15am train back to Melbourne. We also had a slight tailwind in the afternoon.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXgvMznK0-qMy1kJSCk-vEE-2y5T0xIzjcMTfE2CfWNyfFncClT-wg4K0o1_KhbkEc2UlNH47gwkQAQKqI98XiBy9qiU9j-NuYJ6zRESVoZekG1PDLCKEL3uJC7etlMqH2OVwgYusXTXs/s1600/Beside+the+fire+2+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="936" data-original-width="1600" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXgvMznK0-qMy1kJSCk-vEE-2y5T0xIzjcMTfE2CfWNyfFncClT-wg4K0o1_KhbkEc2UlNH47gwkQAQKqI98XiBy9qiU9j-NuYJ6zRESVoZekG1PDLCKEL3uJC7etlMqH2OVwgYusXTXs/s400/Beside+the+fire+2+%25282%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All 3 nights we free camped. This can be uncomfortable sometimes, but every campsite was excellent.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As luck would have it, it turned-out to be a great decision. We had some energy back from the rest and some hot food and as the light was fading we found a free camping area about 17Km from Ararat, with perfect soft grass and even a toilet and a place to sit down. Luxury indeed.<br />
<br />
Anyway, we made it before the rain and got back to Melbourne in good time. Excellent little trip that was tougher than I had imagined it would be, although I was very happy with my bike set-up and I will be doing a few more short tours with it by the end of the year.Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-44899402463542971952019-04-17T03:14:00.000-07:002019-04-17T12:04:20.177-07:00Northern England - The Lakes, Dales, and Moors.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-AH6z5i18XcQSW-NW1gMG1ha_MJlW35PQhyjoSMwJvygmVbPD82FbGZfDSXJ1tC1HP-SmB8NHuLP59h_oXGQi4XiVhJYCFtWfTWBRFsDC1rCIniGm2nAJe-EjEmdUxog6MsjX8BjTBbs/s1600/Honnister+Pass.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-AH6z5i18XcQSW-NW1gMG1ha_MJlW35PQhyjoSMwJvygmVbPD82FbGZfDSXJ1tC1HP-SmB8NHuLP59h_oXGQi4XiVhJYCFtWfTWBRFsDC1rCIniGm2nAJe-EjEmdUxog6MsjX8BjTBbs/s400/Honnister+Pass.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
After an interesting, but slightly underwhelming and frustrating tour of Spain, Northern England didn't disappoint, despite the bitter cold towards the end of the week. Whereas plans changed continuously in Spain, this tour went almost exactly by the book. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO1Lv2Ek7FQ6nu7-dnJKpe4BjumRn0LD3cPUh4rlSRUXTWVLYgoTj_y0g70fnbgYNm0d5O4WxLqAfF-XjNugDmhcYbWPlqNxrW4FIASgcPGWDMmWpz3EubeILe9xI912_15OhQNDbix08/s1600/Aira+Force.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="528" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO1Lv2Ek7FQ6nu7-dnJKpe4BjumRn0LD3cPUh4rlSRUXTWVLYgoTj_y0g70fnbgYNm0d5O4WxLqAfF-XjNugDmhcYbWPlqNxrW4FIASgcPGWDMmWpz3EubeILe9xI912_15OhQNDbix08/s400/Aira+Force.jpg" width="220" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aira Force (waterfalls in the North are called 'force').</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I started out from Colchester early in the morning on the train to London Liverpool Street. From there I had about an 8Km cycle to London Euston station where I caught the train towards Carlisle. I was slightly concerned about this leg of the journey, but I needn't have been as everything went very smoothly.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvBy9HUgD10wtWF7pgTfnHUysCjqeh7we0awb9xf8U8KnKcjEplOGJItBZ6ApB_E96p0qbusfrdjWzk1N40QqHNRb3FVuMicV3nv3ywiCEsrKNx-ReRqeJod7XSDmOyjCWdSFeCsGVV0/s1600/Valley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvBy9HUgD10wtWF7pgTfnHUysCjqeh7we0awb9xf8U8KnKcjEplOGJItBZ6ApB_E96p0qbusfrdjWzk1N40QqHNRb3FVuMicV3nv3ywiCEsrKNx-ReRqeJod7XSDmOyjCWdSFeCsGVV0/s400/Valley.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The only slight change was where I disembarked from on the bike. I noticed that the train stopped at Penrith before Carlisle, a much smaller town and slightly closer to the Lake District.<br />
<br />
Almost immediately, I was quite struck by how beautiful the Lake District was. The mountains there are not huge, but they are quite craggy and scenic amidst the lakes, with even a little snow left at the tops of the higher peaks.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiekori0dZB0Vw7Lhdv56GOf0vft2dZtb8Gc4crVavZv7ft4QCOHDE9oAn_v6CWCj0Aa0AN5iRcEroNn0PFri7JpUZfpbrltxqPZNoxAV4N2OHQylfE4VqNYbr636LvicRxCwoayKqdWhU/s1600/North+Aira+Force.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiekori0dZB0Vw7Lhdv56GOf0vft2dZtb8Gc4crVavZv7ft4QCOHDE9oAn_v6CWCj0Aa0AN5iRcEroNn0PFri7JpUZfpbrltxqPZNoxAV4N2OHQylfE4VqNYbr636LvicRxCwoayKqdWhU/s400/North+Aira+Force.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
My first little target was Aira Force waterfall for a bit of a walk and a spot of lunch. I took the scenic route along the banks of Ullswater lake. <br />
<br />
Almost immediately I was quite taken with how many people were in the more popular areas of the Lake District. Aira Force car park was extremely busy and each time I stopped in a town it was bustling with activity. As I went down some of the smaller roads, however, I soon lost the crowds.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3he1K6tk-oPFYA4awPwl9OW_25eaMX9_IGGiXmHDltIUUg-6JnJdgz4O0dcQkLPoL098iFLLfd9kJVtOa_ynjBxFfb6VPRKzPJx-AdSB8mr_dMIP-9_c47hP2Y3yY-ZIa907fR_8HD48/s1600/3-wheel+tour+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3he1K6tk-oPFYA4awPwl9OW_25eaMX9_IGGiXmHDltIUUg-6JnJdgz4O0dcQkLPoL098iFLLfd9kJVtOa_ynjBxFfb6VPRKzPJx-AdSB8mr_dMIP-9_c47hP2Y3yY-ZIa907fR_8HD48/s400/3-wheel+tour+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikhsHa360f80S2AkQ7j_3sjVTw-t1S_jHs5A_ruEVxvC3lPwYFMYyDkXu-tCG6cW9LUJBZKftj7UwU3UkGEKIqonK5SxJ3E7h0gIv8Y7QjNB70oQXWFuFSYPULKZ2o-c8zffVwGbUHFT4/s1600/3-wheel+tour.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikhsHa360f80S2AkQ7j_3sjVTw-t1S_jHs5A_ruEVxvC3lPwYFMYyDkXu-tCG6cW9LUJBZKftj7UwU3UkGEKIqonK5SxJ3E7h0gIv8Y7QjNB70oQXWFuFSYPULKZ2o-c8zffVwGbUHFT4/s400/3-wheel+tour.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 3-wheeler tour through the Lakes. They were very nice people actually with cool little cars.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After passing through Keswick, I took the road less travelled to Buttermere which was also incredibly steep at times. I was followed by a team of 3-wheel cars that were obviously on a Top Gear-like tour of the Lake District and they seemed to suit the surroundings quite nicely. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLzguhKWTctfTyrMM2kK54Q-Q0nZJd-2y-soHWTrKbRKQwCI2zQMN1k7OaMYnmBW_lI_EPNN052iGsm_Vc8z3Nf1Jk7zBgpvmF-SqeUTh9Cw2HBlxJvLe6IxYmJXgklCTKOLyqJikogT8/s1600/Top+of+buttermere+pass.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLzguhKWTctfTyrMM2kK54Q-Q0nZJd-2y-soHWTrKbRKQwCI2zQMN1k7OaMYnmBW_lI_EPNN052iGsm_Vc8z3Nf1Jk7zBgpvmF-SqeUTh9Cw2HBlxJvLe6IxYmJXgklCTKOLyqJikogT8/s400/Top+of+buttermere+pass.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The standard one photo of me on the tour.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After Buttermere, I psyched myself up for the Honnister Pass. It is one of the most beautiful roads in the whole of Britain, but again, very steep. Towards the end of the climb the incline hits 25%. Not a chance of riding up that on a fully-loaded touring bike, so I had to get off and push. Pushing the bike up that incline is a challenge in itself, but it was worth the effort as the top of the pass was very grand and impressive.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlbhPEPOiCXDHMVWFb-K3FCqiE3H64FkDNacBnv4cAvl1tJi1MqOT90tqe0XsK3P33fbIMLM5XxB2Ih2_1vZVwsVJCh4HIUVFXhQp-2PA0SFzURAXgFyWdv7e4br0h_0II_uKV08Bu_EM/s1600/Buttermere.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlbhPEPOiCXDHMVWFb-K3FCqiE3H64FkDNacBnv4cAvl1tJi1MqOT90tqe0XsK3P33fbIMLM5XxB2Ih2_1vZVwsVJCh4HIUVFXhQp-2PA0SFzURAXgFyWdv7e4br0h_0II_uKV08Bu_EM/s400/Buttermere.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi67l2tUaT9hlXnDg85KSlQR3oswWuU7RS27UyhzfJGjs4KVIJA8EF_kDIETydGXIDNcykMOQw48CPmrRpJT-Fa7u2moBlA0D6ZbWRYJbrwYzFQvkTG_nqnncTvdvVLLaZErwdQqKAOOGk/s1600/Honnister+pass+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi67l2tUaT9hlXnDg85KSlQR3oswWuU7RS27UyhzfJGjs4KVIJA8EF_kDIETydGXIDNcykMOQw48CPmrRpJT-Fa7u2moBlA0D6ZbWRYJbrwYzFQvkTG_nqnncTvdvVLLaZErwdQqKAOOGk/s400/Honnister+pass+3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
My first camping area of the tour was just down the other side of the pass at a farm located at the beginning of the trail up to Scafell Pike, the highest mountain in England. Everything was pretty basic, but it left me the option of hiking up to the top of the mountain in the morning. Unfortunately, the cloud was very low, so I didn't see much up there and I couldn't wait around for very long.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlaI4HbCYhiY946YgBA2FZ-T5NauIbRzfVLj5awv9hEHa3BFNG1Q7TMIDv1dH-7f-0Ql0Zut86lvj6dXynJVwA4BYHP-q9LdBWH305IvrcVi1s0y3jX23umfkaJHoPp_0zpuUE4zmWj6Q/s1600/Crazy+incline.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlaI4HbCYhiY946YgBA2FZ-T5NauIbRzfVLj5awv9hEHa3BFNG1Q7TMIDv1dH-7f-0Ql0Zut86lvj6dXynJVwA4BYHP-q9LdBWH305IvrcVi1s0y3jX23umfkaJHoPp_0zpuUE4zmWj6Q/s400/Crazy+incline.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ridiculous inclines. I had to push, but not for that long as you get to the top pretty quickly. This is very common in the UK, short, steep, punchy climbs.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIkmNaq2w-YUIpmP415OjiuHh8_eWklLGgYAontt_WtkT-LrL16I9qbvh69rItYUL6h-_T7xkVavYofPr_yqHE8GHC7o982SaxueYC1rkUIJFXMla9S4Yfmm7N0qwvEJn65HZpzCnHVdk/s1600/Campsite+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIkmNaq2w-YUIpmP415OjiuHh8_eWklLGgYAontt_WtkT-LrL16I9qbvh69rItYUL6h-_T7xkVavYofPr_yqHE8GHC7o982SaxueYC1rkUIJFXMla9S4Yfmm7N0qwvEJn65HZpzCnHVdk/s400/Campsite+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First campsite on the tour, very quiet and comfortable in beautiful surroundings.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The cloud finally cleared in the afternoon and by then I had made my way towards Windemere, possibly the most famous of the Lakes. Not my favourite, though, as it was quite busy and the highest of the mountains had gone by then.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixp_tzJYzEnrvI3WpWFXGq-G_OMYcSuYZsoB_BTdcKcr4Eku8s_BZ8seBHVIS-pD6NxYpZAzelV-iyAVLLFfywXXVKzLYkt7CpxKu5vjXfYzLM1N-EHqL6iKw_DVZxoVKVMQOL1UOt5dw/s1600/Sheep+in+the+Lake+District.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixp_tzJYzEnrvI3WpWFXGq-G_OMYcSuYZsoB_BTdcKcr4Eku8s_BZ8seBHVIS-pD6NxYpZAzelV-iyAVLLFfywXXVKzLYkt7CpxKu5vjXfYzLM1N-EHqL6iKw_DVZxoVKVMQOL1UOt5dw/s400/Sheep+in+the+Lake+District.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black sheep on a cloudy, misty morning.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I was quite amazed by the variety of trails through the Lake District, which really made me want to go back there one day and hike around for a week or so. With hundreds of miles of trails through stunning countryside and wilderness, it is definitely something I'd come back for. I think the Lake District is the most beautiful part of the whole of the UK from what I have seen so far, rivaling the Scottish Highlands, which are also wonderful.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYneEc1y9bIAC2K26Pu_TMO9ju90nRcWneh0AOLPtIgr4Isc6Pevj7mJOj48N1egA6zoLcfQjGsEw1vq3t3XsaQPtL_DHZodCaDwvsiyw-OsUfTWC2o3S5OxVD482k61sXFseojH2DG_U/s1600/Windemere.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYneEc1y9bIAC2K26Pu_TMO9ju90nRcWneh0AOLPtIgr4Isc6Pevj7mJOj48N1egA6zoLcfQjGsEw1vq3t3XsaQPtL_DHZodCaDwvsiyw-OsUfTWC2o3S5OxVD482k61sXFseojH2DG_U/s400/Windemere.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I was quite surprised just how stunning the Lake District was; as you can see I took some great photos, some of the best I have ever taken on my travels. As I headed out of the Lakes, I had no plan of where to camp overnight, but eventually found a public footpath to get me off the road and thought I'd take a chance on where it went. It led to a locked gate, but with stones placed next to it so walkers could access the path which was ongoing.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzelZoTV2GU8xZxOo05bRvAVw29Hq1BMOuqbwcxXmVzlhdXgEkv9Q9TiZWyIL39g8M8iLmGxFZF2UaeHo_UXdIqA6soAc1xni1gXd6k-f0Pu_L5CgfXERwuQp1b7m1sR5rFceZ_OJGUQM/s1600/Campsite+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzelZoTV2GU8xZxOo05bRvAVw29Hq1BMOuqbwcxXmVzlhdXgEkv9Q9TiZWyIL39g8M8iLmGxFZF2UaeHo_UXdIqA6soAc1xni1gXd6k-f0Pu_L5CgfXERwuQp1b7m1sR5rFceZ_OJGUQM/s400/Campsite+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Day 2 campsite was a bit exposed, but I had little choice.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It seemed liked a route that was rarely used, and there was some ground to pitch a tent further on, so I unloaded the bike and lifted it over and then camped about 100 metres away on the other side. A bit exposed to the wind, but I was sure no one would disturb me up there and there really was no other options around.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFZ4eD-UFJb1NelVYHF588sk05NM_gGvh3AEY7dwCVMh4ksiNoBmtFeE7IUhnaLSThdTqcEZ0sRxFKRJswcyeXf1OEoUvZY4Lhtjq6dO8tnjhgGZuZsDhe_fzK3Ao3YP60lYnGdA8SH9o/s1600/Church+view.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFZ4eD-UFJb1NelVYHF588sk05NM_gGvh3AEY7dwCVMh4ksiNoBmtFeE7IUhnaLSThdTqcEZ0sRxFKRJswcyeXf1OEoUvZY4Lhtjq6dO8tnjhgGZuZsDhe_fzK3Ao3YP60lYnGdA8SH9o/s400/Church+view.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The wind had picked up overnight and in the morning it was colder also. The wind was blowing from the North East - basically where I was going - and by mid-morning it was creating quite a problem on the bike, pushing me around everywhere.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdVS29HDTwRtjlGcVvDlKePP67AExNVZHEO_VywXu2B7qgKUqrS84JB-_YVnXP93CCiL7OI1pDtHGFGoPsCb8h5yEwf15fMGFlMW01Ev0uyhHKRqdR000CE0NJ3DDeO-gRZPWbSW2zd3g/s1600/Kendal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdVS29HDTwRtjlGcVvDlKePP67AExNVZHEO_VywXu2B7qgKUqrS84JB-_YVnXP93CCiL7OI1pDtHGFGoPsCb8h5yEwf15fMGFlMW01Ev0uyhHKRqdR000CE0NJ3DDeO-gRZPWbSW2zd3g/s400/Kendal.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The river running through the town of Kendal, home to the famous Kendal mint cake. Supplying hikers and climbers with energy for almost 150 years.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I passed through a number of small towns and villages on the outskirts of the Yorkshire Dales before stopping at some nice church gardens which also sat at the top of a hill with great views over the river and into the dales.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJiehAiSrhlBStX5kiGR-1D358o_kFXZRbopX8EUAFLHAT6HHxWNkeA1ST6ZD_4Gz5ASVJ-DVve2idL4VCfqeX12CP7a3LkzsSH7mCVc-jMe5SqoCbBa1xrvCtLizKIdKmcaSsY9B7YSs/s1600/Union+Jack.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJiehAiSrhlBStX5kiGR-1D358o_kFXZRbopX8EUAFLHAT6HHxWNkeA1ST6ZD_4Gz5ASVJ-DVve2idL4VCfqeX12CP7a3LkzsSH7mCVc-jMe5SqoCbBa1xrvCtLizKIdKmcaSsY9B7YSs/s400/Union+Jack.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
As I headed into the Dales the wind picked up and the higher I got, the worse it got. High in the Yorkshire Dales is probably one of the worst places in the UK to be confronted by high winds as there is absolutely no tree cover and no steep mountains to shield you from the wind, just open, high hillsides. I was buffeted by a full-on headwind as I climbed up to the highest section. The decent incline and high winds brought me to a standstill.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDYW_56WUV4Uyf3Xf5x-soqgahPsOxj3K84QAsTUsZ2uq9aVvxBnQ0l7LQQsTXRqvjMFKzz5Br0k1wSO0Oghb44loGita3Gmsu0s31bzkO0GI3cRmQ_bHf6XzX3Q5CnrlKRGAcUB0d8Kk/s1600/Ribblehead+viaduct.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDYW_56WUV4Uyf3Xf5x-soqgahPsOxj3K84QAsTUsZ2uq9aVvxBnQ0l7LQQsTXRqvjMFKzz5Br0k1wSO0Oghb44loGita3Gmsu0s31bzkO0GI3cRmQ_bHf6XzX3Q5CnrlKRGAcUB0d8Kk/s400/Ribblehead+viaduct.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Ribblehead viaduct high up in the Yorkshire Dales.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I was again experiencing those moments of despair that only a relentless headwind can give you, but fortunately I had a nice target to push me through the latter part of the day.<br />
<br />
I camped every night on the trip, bar one, which was this night. The YHA at Hawes was in the perfect place and with the cold winds knocking the stuffing out of me, I just had to stop for the night and get some welcome shelter from the elements.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhAe3n58u20mErVhs1lsRiOqj4VxwRSQTuZcveUCSeaozWxoIeDsO-ouFAG5Sbe7UQkwTS-hVacE-f-EILMgaobiUO1vF1HeP53Is9bitzWiBYEVX15u4ipYDQTIGRqrgTc-KS3VyH0R0/s1600/Small+road+in+Dales.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhAe3n58u20mErVhs1lsRiOqj4VxwRSQTuZcveUCSeaozWxoIeDsO-ouFAG5Sbe7UQkwTS-hVacE-f-EILMgaobiUO1vF1HeP53Is9bitzWiBYEVX15u4ipYDQTIGRqrgTc-KS3VyH0R0/s400/Small+road+in+Dales.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The YHA couldn't come soon enough, despite the pleasant scenery of the Dales. Shortly after arriving I was joined by fellow cyclist, traveling a little lighter, who had come up from Leeds and was planning a trip into the Lake District for a few days also. He was a really nice chap, actually, and we had some good chats about our travels, as he was as well-travelled as I am. He also gave me some useful tips on good routes to take and ones to avoid as he had ridden this way many times.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLNV4llpdZnjgFB4UUxIsqleqdAVgElGKupvcn90AfTd8uNZ0B-3_QBRbd5kSqReq8gXILdv6jZE1I4obdGQ9YfbLEjDxp4yBUKd-CyJXuYKIG5UTKHoKxBAmdYQmox6SdxNRkIrseFOo/s1600/The+Dales.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLNV4llpdZnjgFB4UUxIsqleqdAVgElGKupvcn90AfTd8uNZ0B-3_QBRbd5kSqReq8gXILdv6jZE1I4obdGQ9YfbLEjDxp4yBUKd-CyJXuYKIG5UTKHoKxBAmdYQmox6SdxNRkIrseFOo/s400/The+Dales.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I was so exhausted that the thought of battling into the cold wind the next day was something I wasn't willing to entertain, so I tricked myself into thinking I'd have an easy day and start late. Obviously I didn't, just setting-off a little later than normal at 8am.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgfWU6Xnm5mxVaGK_r83vLdu3j3EbE6gagQvDiuCOteIV33bi0XHVMfepPtnDbHJVOlsYewd8DX429X6PtbsHKI26CLPdHlil0xUsTIllGRVWzq8TaGY_vsqPRRMtCQLuD90N_ZYDVY5I/s1600/Ayrsgarth+falls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgfWU6Xnm5mxVaGK_r83vLdu3j3EbE6gagQvDiuCOteIV33bi0XHVMfepPtnDbHJVOlsYewd8DX429X6PtbsHKI26CLPdHlil0xUsTIllGRVWzq8TaGY_vsqPRRMtCQLuD90N_ZYDVY5I/s400/Ayrsgarth+falls.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I had mentally prepared myself for a slow-going day, however, and this helped initially, but then I started to struggle again. I decided to pick my way through 10-15km at a time and eventually I made it to a reservoir and forested area, which was the only place around I had a chance to pitch a tent.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS566y4y85oKHkiHafCJOvtFjA3NL93oFbuVyXPKNzhk2Uj96N7bLDb893FQ2R8CM-dDBnyrESd7w4Kn6-10Svq-2NFXv1QcXalNjjxVax4nuehDNxKqTkcvM4Jz3-uFZEx3H3SXOKL2E/s1600/56963211_10161596015750484_5445982380588269568_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS566y4y85oKHkiHafCJOvtFjA3NL93oFbuVyXPKNzhk2Uj96N7bLDb893FQ2R8CM-dDBnyrESd7w4Kn6-10Svq-2NFXv1QcXalNjjxVax4nuehDNxKqTkcvM4Jz3-uFZEx3H3SXOKL2E/s400/56963211_10161596015750484_5445982380588269568_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Campsite 3 in the woods near the Yorkshire Moors.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It was a tricky one, however, because the tiny villages a few miles down the road seemed to empty into this park where everyone was walking their dogs or walking with the family. I managed to find a quiet spot in the trees and settled down for a cold night.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFC4IvnknaVpiupuorWRyNIdYyldvdjxe_1LJg9QlubKMvs-_alWS-5PTUCR_6Ul-Me4EVDFhylFcBB7LQRShlAALjMbUp9Fmk9VuMHrE1ilYml1AToRCo7wPigLmpUi-11K-s9wx_Gdo/s1600/Moors+Lake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFC4IvnknaVpiupuorWRyNIdYyldvdjxe_1LJg9QlubKMvs-_alWS-5PTUCR_6Ul-Me4EVDFhylFcBB7LQRShlAALjMbUp9Fmk9VuMHrE1ilYml1AToRCo7wPigLmpUi-11K-s9wx_Gdo/s400/Moors+Lake.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The temperature was down to -2 degrees when I woke up in the morning. I didn't feel overly cold in the tent as I think the bed of pine needles underneath the tent insulated me quite well, but getting going in the morning was difficult and once on the bike the cold wind was blowing once more. I was freezing and utterly exhausted from the previous 2 days of battling the wind.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpT_tamtp8P_LdjqDbXLCV-ykmHvNoSgSDiuWy6oCVhXW0w4szIv_9KFf932LlruryUz3Ls27HS50S9E1h1X_J3O21Zl6vPPzBkKGrWoikfKVnyPKohZuTn5L1pyxeovgtKLx1uTeYknw/s1600/Cup+of+tea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="533" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpT_tamtp8P_LdjqDbXLCV-ykmHvNoSgSDiuWy6oCVhXW0w4szIv_9KFf932LlruryUz3Ls27HS50S9E1h1X_J3O21Zl6vPPzBkKGrWoikfKVnyPKohZuTn5L1pyxeovgtKLx1uTeYknw/s400/Cup+of+tea.jpg" width="221" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These pots of tea powered me through fatigue and the cold on this trip.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My legs simply were not working and I was struggling big time. I managed to make it to the Buck Inn at Chop Gate and despite it not technically being open, the lovely lady who owned it let me in for a pot of tea, which warmed me up and together with the rest gave me a bit of energy again.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiQ-bUen1ekm4K3VGg8RNFbCEZM2A9-tzUu1hYqXRfwQU06p2J8X1mLjIRPwVPM3h2kc1_mnroT7Kx8x15x5tb9Px58SHkqPgWMwYF6HSVfqf2BuQE0Q819KSlA00dmyjSuu1trJ9tZiY/s1600/Moors+Mountain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiQ-bUen1ekm4K3VGg8RNFbCEZM2A9-tzUu1hYqXRfwQU06p2J8X1mLjIRPwVPM3h2kc1_mnroT7Kx8x15x5tb9Px58SHkqPgWMwYF6HSVfqf2BuQE0Q819KSlA00dmyjSuu1trJ9tZiY/s400/Moors+Mountain.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I purposely didn't go to my uncle's place via Rosedale because I knew I would be going there anyway, and it was a less direct route. It was also higher and more open and I was not only struggling a bit physically, but I had become bone-chillingly cold. I just could not get warm the whole day and this continued into the next day as you can probably see from the picture I had taken with my mum below.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCJ2ARfAM2K3LQLXsO3UKXl0-gJ8gBV8wK5YRk1EZr7ngr4GhfGdzM0yi9ZAUT5ft9Yf0oqoYXR_N1A95-GyIKD_hdtjVaQsMKPA504spixI00hvftIRmT45H1FhUYGYM65O2Ee2hs8ls/s1600/Me+cold+with+mum.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="528" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCJ2ARfAM2K3LQLXsO3UKXl0-gJ8gBV8wK5YRk1EZr7ngr4GhfGdzM0yi9ZAUT5ft9Yf0oqoYXR_N1A95-GyIKD_hdtjVaQsMKPA504spixI00hvftIRmT45H1FhUYGYM65O2Ee2hs8ls/s400/Me+cold+with+mum.jpg" width="220" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Perhaps you can see in this picture how cold I stayed, even a day after finishing on the bike.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I finally arrived at my uncle's cottage, just south of the Yorkshire Moors, very cold and weather beaten. The North Easterly winds took chunks out of me in the previous 3 days, so I was glad to finish. Although these winds were against me and were icy cold, the benefit of the weather coming from the East is that it was at least dry for the whole trip, not a drop of rain. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeENY2nuP_MnbpNN6997xnXWq6K4MW6kJc8JKbOdtteJKilNo6oqi5GvEfXKTQqSQRUblQ7jGtpmhthAe1CWht-5UUdG6QFzVQGJWQJhN_qMZU_5zhEY_i4zgZeAbVQx3tAGHHVo7PGk0/s1600/Moors+lookout.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="595" data-original-width="960" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeENY2nuP_MnbpNN6997xnXWq6K4MW6kJc8JKbOdtteJKilNo6oqi5GvEfXKTQqSQRUblQ7jGtpmhthAe1CWht-5UUdG6QFzVQGJWQJhN_qMZU_5zhEY_i4zgZeAbVQx3tAGHHVo7PGk0/s400/Moors+lookout.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Despite the physical hardship, I really enjoyed this tour and along the with tour through Wales and Southern England I did almost 2 years ago, I feel like I have explored my own country quite well now. The UK is actually a really good place to tour on the bike; lots of small roads and pretty landscapes punctuated by, in my opinion, the prettiest towns and villages in the whole world. What my country lacks in spectacular landscapes it makes up for in culture and architecture.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQHq9dn0cEXn1di_E5px6bL7J-ORHasSyAbIFghEAhyphenhyphenb16AhcZOWq34x9QYlz2GQ6eTfsXJgGyMjvRMSODsJHp36V8FZFla38xgQKg3AyaAtsoJIJ-2CzUEEpXcMfFB9K-EPNIhs29YnM/s1600/Rosedale+Chimney.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQHq9dn0cEXn1di_E5px6bL7J-ORHasSyAbIFghEAhyphenhyphenb16AhcZOWq34x9QYlz2GQ6eTfsXJgGyMjvRMSODsJHp36V8FZFla38xgQKg3AyaAtsoJIJ-2CzUEEpXcMfFB9K-EPNIhs29YnM/s400/Rosedale+Chimney.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The top of the Rosedale Chimney, the steepest road in the UK at 33%.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Anyway the last couple of days were spent with my aunt and uncle who were extremely friendly and hospitable, even though I hadn't seen them in years. I especially loved the homemade rhubarb crumble made with rhubarb straight from the garden. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ckvHc85ThC0tcOkDSke_rzN-849UshhlldXlr0aTGtLnSNBl7QeSw9IFYyBL3L20cNpPKoM1EZxjeoNd4Ooi0p3Bihvxy7tlsp20aR4wboA4Aqv3SoRmaHeyjqAKSVhUdmKFbfObppw/s1600/Tanzie+in+the+moors.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ckvHc85ThC0tcOkDSke_rzN-849UshhlldXlr0aTGtLnSNBl7QeSw9IFYyBL3L20cNpPKoM1EZxjeoNd4Ooi0p3Bihvxy7tlsp20aR4wboA4Aqv3SoRmaHeyjqAKSVhUdmKFbfObppw/s400/Tanzie+in+the+moors.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Their little cottage was lovely and I stayed in the swanky little room above their garage. On the first day with them they showed us around the Moors and we took all the dogs for a walk. I was extremely impressed with their collie Tanzie (my aunt is an incredibly good trainer of dogs; agility training, flyball, and sheep herding) who was very obedient and did everything first time on command. I was freezing for every second when I was outside and I only warmed-up on the second day after sitting in their front room with the fire blaring out. I must have been seriously cold.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAHRVc9URr-nQSbP0ds2UF3ixre7V6jVycd7uL2S72q4GFOrW_YlWtoeO9Mlibin-tR2wwuUsmlyrZX_TVzGJj7hLpHLC_nfhWLych2IhHFq98R-L03j1qUTm_UanH5765VCVm1Si2z6c/s1600/Everyone+at+the+moors.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAHRVc9URr-nQSbP0ds2UF3ixre7V6jVycd7uL2S72q4GFOrW_YlWtoeO9Mlibin-tR2wwuUsmlyrZX_TVzGJj7hLpHLC_nfhWLych2IhHFq98R-L03j1qUTm_UanH5765VCVm1Si2z6c/s400/Everyone+at+the+moors.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
But apart from the cold it was a great tour and then a lovely finish with my relatives; the bike then fit into my mum's car easily for the trip back home. Basically a perfectly planned and executed week away.Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-87460119009153434202019-04-05T10:52:00.000-07:002019-04-05T10:52:34.368-07:00Lakes, Dales, and Moors - The Northern England Short Tour<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpCCk07ts2CZMAUjQBeXSU202UrJuwRo_Jz7CMZeLuBE4HCg3BITAsCGNLDTr-3sCs_AXSq_bZLXZ0iXsPJzQUxYGQqfV4t1NaKJJAjPZ3b5-XhOj50nxqOeNYe21oX6D57n4FkyT1Dcs/s1600/Northern+England+Tour.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="580" data-original-width="1082" height="340" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpCCk07ts2CZMAUjQBeXSU202UrJuwRo_Jz7CMZeLuBE4HCg3BITAsCGNLDTr-3sCs_AXSq_bZLXZ0iXsPJzQUxYGQqfV4t1NaKJJAjPZ3b5-XhOj50nxqOeNYe21oX6D57n4FkyT1Dcs/s640/Northern+England+Tour.PNG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuS_epzcjfLoJr_eAxNt3MdOjmSF_Vm243ZjhbHi7N88igr6PtVNQnD1XQx_A8KP6v2TlSMrLlcjaTdmSOy1TizV1akXCH3O8RIHgoepWbt3EjxPT4qNXF30Ff0AWQGyMQlevYtaiYhrA/s1600/Northern+England+Profile.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="135" data-original-width="437" height="122" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuS_epzcjfLoJr_eAxNt3MdOjmSF_Vm243ZjhbHi7N88igr6PtVNQnD1XQx_A8KP6v2TlSMrLlcjaTdmSOy1TizV1akXCH3O8RIHgoepWbt3EjxPT4qNXF30Ff0AWQGyMQlevYtaiYhrA/s400/Northern+England+Profile.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Well, I was going to have a bit of a break from cycle touring after Spain, but I have never been to the far North of my own country, and with 3 supposedly stunning national parks in this region, I couldn't resist. <br />
<br />
I plan to take the train to London from my hometown in Colchester, then head up to Carlisle, where I will disembark on the bike. Carlisle is one of the most northerly cities in England, just 10 miles south of Scotland. From there it is a relatively short ride into the Lake District National Park.<br />
<br />
Famed as one of the most picturesque locations in the UK, it is also one of the wettest (these two factors almost always come together), so it is a big fingers-crossed for the weather on this trip, especially as April isn't exactly the driest time of year.<br />
<br />
The weather isn't the only challenge, my route takes me through the Lake District, then the Yorkshire Dales, and finally the Yorkshire Moors, where I will rendez-vous with my aunt and uncle for a day or so before going back home to Colchester with my mum. This route takes me up and down some serious climbs.<br />
<br />
I don't know how I do it to myself, every time I go somewhere new, I seem to be setting myself another horrendous physical challenge. This time it is not distance, it shouldn't be the wind - as I should be travelling with the prevailing wind for most of the ride, although it looks like the winds are shifting just for me (as usual) - and it certainly won't be heat and lack of water as in Australia. This time it will be the sheer steepness of the climbs.<br />
<br />
After doing a bit of research, I have noticed that I will certainly hit some sections of road where the incline will exceed 25%! There are also roads where climbs can reach as high a gradient as 33%! I will be cycling backwards! In New Zealand, the steepest section of road I encountered was about 16% up to Arthur's Pass, and that was brutal. I will be packed a lot lighter for this tour, but I can't imagine I will be able to cycle the whole way up such roads, not to mention ride down them - it is recommended that cyclists dismount going down some of these roads.<br />
<br />
I have about 5-6 days to complete this ride, which works out at about 60Km a day, which should be manageable, but I would like a day in hand in case of bad weather, and with these hills, well, I might need that extra day.<br />
<br />
The weather is really my major concern. A few days away now, and if I can trust the long range weather forecast, it looks like it will be cold, but not wet, which is just fine by me. If I have some good weather, the scenery should be absolutely beautiful.<br />
<br />
With some flexibility built-in to the tour, if the weather is good, I may hike up to England's highest mountain, Scarfell Pike, which is not a big detour off my route through the Lake District. It is always good to get off the bike and do some hiking as well.<br />
<br />
Looking forward to this short, punchy, and potentially very picturesque tour of the North. Hopefully the bike and the gear holds out, as much of it is on its last legs; the panniers are being held together with pegs with a few holes appearing, the bike is starting to develop the odd minor problem or two (understandably after all the hard work she's done), and my racks are bent and being held together with cable ties after a breakage or two in Australia and New Zealand. She just has to get me through this one last tour, and I'll make her a commuter bike, but what a job she has done over the past 3 years. Let's see how this one goes.Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-27137547394173891982019-02-24T05:52:00.001-08:002019-02-24T06:14:10.249-08:00The Spectacular Roads and Mazes of Spain<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNRSiFTL-ahv7xo4Txu6uw_nrNtcuBfRTuyNW1-C6L-sPcjfXOG6ZX8QjXLAByyxk_TE88tWe6EGvI2EY3F0lIg7zTdasODaXZFBxaKDRPkpt4Ha6zm6ivnRff3tJrDuUd3TR7Q63Q3kY/s1600/IMG_0021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNRSiFTL-ahv7xo4Txu6uw_nrNtcuBfRTuyNW1-C6L-sPcjfXOG6ZX8QjXLAByyxk_TE88tWe6EGvI2EY3F0lIg7zTdasODaXZFBxaKDRPkpt4Ha6zm6ivnRff3tJrDuUd3TR7Q63Q3kY/s400/IMG_0021.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Another tour done and this one didn't exactly go to plan. To be fair, only the first tour I did in Australia and my tour in England have gone exactly to plan, most of the tours I have done have had at least minor changes once I am in the reality of the situation.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPYd21VKcxZLRH8ODp9obqXb9aSOankYtEukQ4tBVqOm6QCGVOzqfrgo79n3JiRLihwnc7rw4Edu0tq3Qj62cIeztUTE9ix_2_igj1AQVmbA03sbXUnd7HF4PLTJE8XNKYS2AI_DPT1ME/s1600/Actual+Spain+tour.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="714" data-original-width="1029" height="443" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPYd21VKcxZLRH8ODp9obqXb9aSOankYtEukQ4tBVqOm6QCGVOzqfrgo79n3JiRLihwnc7rw4Edu0tq3Qj62cIeztUTE9ix_2_igj1AQVmbA03sbXUnd7HF4PLTJE8XNKYS2AI_DPT1ME/s640/Actual+Spain+tour.PNG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZRl-II36mwoiTTd5iowICuo9MA3y6DAvHw_vePomK11D9aBPhirU83tmRW_xWl8_hwmW2KBt16iNSHBsqEZY3DfwJ_xJvHYhrEbqnmsPjJ3nwb-LrIKMdmIkNj1UdAt9RMaVZ6iISEho/s1600/Actual+spain+tour+profile.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="139" data-original-width="441" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZRl-II36mwoiTTd5iowICuo9MA3y6DAvHw_vePomK11D9aBPhirU83tmRW_xWl8_hwmW2KBt16iNSHBsqEZY3DfwJ_xJvHYhrEbqnmsPjJ3nwb-LrIKMdmIkNj1UdAt9RMaVZ6iISEho/s400/Actual+spain+tour+profile.PNG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My actual tour route. Slightly different than planned.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
For this one, I significantly overestimated the mileage I could achieve in a day. Perhaps I am getting old, but I think the main issue in this case was the difficulty of finding my way around. Stopping to check maps, going the wrong way, and winding your way through mazes of roads takes a lot more time out of your day than you imagine.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhnmze10cjtwT-lAkXqugGfrUqOMbI4a3VUFIeC5ZvzlWCKr0Ixlkr9u3ibQx8IhZ17oU9-OYcl8I5YURSpTIdYQ1q-XHVb10BZGwgZZoWSJHUWmglxVC3taLyblwlUoRneOrx-bdfWnI/s1600/Chris+was+here.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhnmze10cjtwT-lAkXqugGfrUqOMbI4a3VUFIeC5ZvzlWCKr0Ixlkr9u3ibQx8IhZ17oU9-OYcl8I5YURSpTIdYQ1q-XHVb10BZGwgZZoWSJHUWmglxVC3taLyblwlUoRneOrx-bdfWnI/s400/Chris+was+here.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the great benefits of having a very common name is that I often come across things like this.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Spain has to be one of the best places for cycling in the world; there are plenty of hills and mountains, stunning vistas, the weather is almost always sunny, and the roads are in great condition with very little traffic.<br />
<br />
Great for cycling, definitely, but good for bicycle touring? I'm not so sure about that. If someone were to ask for my advice about cycling in Spain, I would advise them to fly over with their road bike and do day cycles, maybe hiring a car and finding a 100Km ride to do, then do something similar somewhere else on another day.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2wjNtIENIG8RIx2bKlRW2T4kg-LGIxX_qwlRubFEZWloJSeys-546KhNQ-We8nHEWX05MJTIpRp-XeYCQ3YycppbIXwyrOW3HYCaEd2UgXVVzBP6nNodEXciWh2f-Fmn0c2Rbk7VIDFk/s1600/Stunning+road+along+the+coast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="691" data-original-width="960" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2wjNtIENIG8RIx2bKlRW2T4kg-LGIxX_qwlRubFEZWloJSeys-546KhNQ-We8nHEWX05MJTIpRp-XeYCQ3YycppbIXwyrOW3HYCaEd2UgXVVzBP6nNodEXciWh2f-Fmn0c2Rbk7VIDFk/s400/Stunning+road+along+the+coast.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The reason for this is that there some wonderful roads, but getting from a to b on a bike over a period of days and weeks can be tricky in Spain. The are a number of different kinds of roads here; APs, AVs, As, RMs, GLs, ALs, etc. The first two seemed to always not allow cyclists on them, but the As and RMs also had times when they didn't allow cyclists, but the problem was that you didn't know until things started looking like a motorway or when a sign popped-up. There didn't seem to be any hard and fast rules to it all.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKd1vzhzH5A6pzqesJDrLkxlrtWXDe4n7PrhL_em45yBkLR5_OTYZiqx43hlTh_ETpmqln3sCxhWBkUTaSsZszZLyjTuyj14uXq7r2SX50gEjKN9Rm71is3xNvXlO1gtFBAhVZ52GGW0E/s1600/Isolated+road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKd1vzhzH5A6pzqesJDrLkxlrtWXDe4n7PrhL_em45yBkLR5_OTYZiqx43hlTh_ETpmqln3sCxhWBkUTaSsZszZLyjTuyj14uXq7r2SX50gEjKN9Rm71is3xNvXlO1gtFBAhVZ52GGW0E/s400/Isolated+road.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Going down the side of these more major roads were service roads that looked very good at times, but would often deteriorate into rubble or just end altogether without warning.<br />
<br />
My troubles with the roads were summed-up on the last day when I discovered that I could not legally enter Murcia International airport on the bike, despite two bicycle lanes appearing to lead right into the airport (at least on the map).<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTJn7sH0wfqJ_D58ka4f446Y-EAqiso5i7h1nEYvXc-5aFmFWFuY2wB8H9pBo19NbeRxUb1jtEVQvNOKFQUmtbBy_pjyQssuXbbc32_cVxqQsi5Vbb1ur6sBulC_06huIcTFdMXQ5B6-M/s1600/La+Peza+and+bike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTJn7sH0wfqJ_D58ka4f446Y-EAqiso5i7h1nEYvXc-5aFmFWFuY2wB8H9pBo19NbeRxUb1jtEVQvNOKFQUmtbBy_pjyQssuXbbc32_cVxqQsi5Vbb1ur6sBulC_06huIcTFdMXQ5B6-M/s400/La+Peza+and+bike.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
When I arrived I must have ridden on the road illegally to get going, not seeing any signs. But on the way in, I saw the signs clearly so diverted down a service road with a bicycle path that led to the airport. Having discovered that one bicycle path came to a dead end with a 2 metre-high fence, I tried to cycle around, only to discover that this fence stretched on seemingly endlessly.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4iAVOgBunjzPUaebB8M3LB1_wPIrJTRE39kH62Qxi60MQ4rtb-lAvw32kZQ_OO5XRROXbR2nBtx3tkRC9kwMbd3tNGYExUts3xmpM8r4Q90Kzcr2rJw1qWWzaYk6OiAyEOhP9X5bGTWU/s1600/Coastal+road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4iAVOgBunjzPUaebB8M3LB1_wPIrJTRE39kH62Qxi60MQ4rtb-lAvw32kZQ_OO5XRROXbR2nBtx3tkRC9kwMbd3tNGYExUts3xmpM8r4Q90Kzcr2rJw1qWWzaYk6OiAyEOhP9X5bGTWU/s400/Coastal+road.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Turning back, I tried the bicycle path on the other side, but the same thing, it ended at a very high fence. The airport was in sight the whole time, but I just couldn't reach it. Hopping onto the main road was not an option either as it was protected by yet another fence and a rather large gutter. Fortunately, however, a tree had fallen on the fence and this acted like a bridge so I could cross the gutter (slightly precariously) with my bike and then lift it over the barrier. Without that tree, I have no idea how I would have gotten into the airport.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-GKddOQAbRDLSKhyphenhyphenlbp3JXOtvq69r40vdtJGUadA8rpqKVukiVkMQHNouaJ-pwZr4jdl1334y-xDwzYe6vqyVEL31QxiFEh6N-1SzLjK_ww_PqATuscXE3ggKjzg046OyQKvZlAOcNrw/s1600/Wild+camping+spot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-GKddOQAbRDLSKhyphenhyphenlbp3JXOtvq69r40vdtJGUadA8rpqKVukiVkMQHNouaJ-pwZr4jdl1334y-xDwzYe6vqyVEL31QxiFEh6N-1SzLjK_ww_PqATuscXE3ggKjzg046OyQKvZlAOcNrw/s400/Wild+camping+spot.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wild camping with the new tent.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I had another problem, and that was that I couldn't put my bike on the trains, which meant that my original plans to take the train to Seville and Cordoba was pretty much finished. In the end, I just cycled to Granada via the coast and then circled back to my Dad's place in Los Alcazeres.<br />
<br />
Even then, I had to take the bus between Guadix and Baza because I couldn't find a route that would accept my bicycle.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-co55YLE0Tk6aTYtdbkly2xZdYNBDt2B549YkdcH04ZqcKJe9Y5B0dtVAeTWOTmP6otqiTtGVbbg1diqh83vEfBrp58qWLqDZV44cajveOUu0GFBt3XcV1wf_gmenacdFbfUHCIStrWA/s1600/Seaside.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-co55YLE0Tk6aTYtdbkly2xZdYNBDt2B549YkdcH04ZqcKJe9Y5B0dtVAeTWOTmP6otqiTtGVbbg1diqh83vEfBrp58qWLqDZV44cajveOUu0GFBt3XcV1wf_gmenacdFbfUHCIStrWA/s400/Seaside.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Troubles aside, when I was actually cycling, the roads and scenery were absolutely beautiful both on the coast and inland. Despite the fact hills and mountains were everywhere, I found the gradients a lot less severe than New Zealand also, so no climbs were especially tough, particularly with less gear on the bike. The ease of wild camping was also very welcome. Pretty much any area without houses or farms was easy to just turn off the road and find a nice sheltered place to camp.<br />
<br />
It was a shame I couldn't go to Seville or Cordoba, but Granada was a truly beautiful city to spend a day resting and wandering around in. A combination of Christian and Islamic architecture with the backdrop of the Sierra Nevada mountains. European cities are so beautiful, sometimes you forget it when you travel elsewhere in the world. Australia and New Zealand have the natural wonders, but culturally, hardly anywhere in the world beats Europe.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht6qEzojwc0MdXFevoBjmKn2VT4jzxVmfLgHXysFsgR3okxhT91ifcPxD7ZDcIE5DMQHdo90OYniX-dQuqVi6XrhCrbIU9Q9vcF_x7YBMCFS6mX5vO9wZC6jNYWx3X1hyyRGA4mLw6yOU/s1600/Streets+of+Granada.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht6qEzojwc0MdXFevoBjmKn2VT4jzxVmfLgHXysFsgR3okxhT91ifcPxD7ZDcIE5DMQHdo90OYniX-dQuqVi6XrhCrbIU9Q9vcF_x7YBMCFS6mX5vO9wZC6jNYWx3X1hyyRGA4mLw6yOU/s400/Streets+of+Granada.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The main attraction in Granada was Alhambra, a large Islamic fort set on top of a hill overlooking the whole city. It was an impressive sight, and as usual, I was there early in the day to get in before all the crowds of tourists showed-up. So early in fact, that I managed to beat the entrance fee as well, and sneaked in for a walk around the castle on my own as the sun rose across the city. This was a great pick-me-up after the disappointment of not being able to carry out my original plans.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVbvG-lxPiXbAzclxNCuHurTO_2OAoDWK16GXpxjHygTuPLfxMGxe4kJCwzBWYZaPBX_mvBlOO0Jt_ZLIGlF0Q98HlfhQ_452xJ9gbi-fzbRCmtSY_f09YH9Fnfgz0jxMqqm76jfBCfi4/s1600/51855810_10161395519335484_7172886501498290176_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVbvG-lxPiXbAzclxNCuHurTO_2OAoDWK16GXpxjHygTuPLfxMGxe4kJCwzBWYZaPBX_mvBlOO0Jt_ZLIGlF0Q98HlfhQ_452xJ9gbi-fzbRCmtSY_f09YH9Fnfgz0jxMqqm76jfBCfi4/s400/51855810_10161395519335484_7172886501498290176_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Once I had finished with Alhambra I explored the old quarter of the city, winding through the hilly streets and taking pictures of some of the quaintly beautiful architecture.<br />
<br />
The afternoon before, I checked into my only paid accommodation of the whole tour. At 35 Euros it was quite a luxury for me, especially with my own room. I had intended to stay at a much cheaper hostel, but typically showed-up in Granada at the weekend and everywhere was full. This did surprise me, though, as I wouldn't have expected the city to be busy with tourists during winter.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj81JKUR20qodccJCwoK_4xxWInrjvgy2nZ8lgNeDt5td39jZ5t6nwHglYewYvPsklOUMq9soXA23SYMLN2v0aK4Wo60VuFpInL2xg7NKO2kfcyrxLmVleLY3IOQ6GUvy3VGTg2PB0pjsQ/s1600/Granada+house.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj81JKUR20qodccJCwoK_4xxWInrjvgy2nZ8lgNeDt5td39jZ5t6nwHglYewYvPsklOUMq9soXA23SYMLN2v0aK4Wo60VuFpInL2xg7NKO2kfcyrxLmVleLY3IOQ6GUvy3VGTg2PB0pjsQ/s400/Granada+house.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
It was a great relief to have a shower and have my own comfortable bed and just be able to catch-up with the world for the evening. When you cycle all day for consecutive days, you really earn your rest.<br />
<br />
The way out of Granada towards a town called Guadix was some of the best cycling of the trip, with steady gradients into the mountains. For this reason it was also popular with a lot of other cyclists; I have never seen so many in a day. They were not of the touring kind, but bicycles outnumbered cars significantly all day. As they all rode by me I was given quizzical looks, like why was I punishing myself by riding with all this gear up a mountain.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgImRGdtFtQ92tUfjwgxJ1_QwKO4XXKEj92vso_D2F9WeOFIpNs0NytttMZZDX51jJfWjkPdH1SP68D4STnkBZS0hVz5Ly9QV_bRXDO9610TsgqvzEflmSN8MwOh2rx1T_0a0fWIBGSUCA/s1600/Badlands.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgImRGdtFtQ92tUfjwgxJ1_QwKO4XXKEj92vso_D2F9WeOFIpNs0NytttMZZDX51jJfWjkPdH1SP68D4STnkBZS0hVz5Ly9QV_bRXDO9610TsgqvzEflmSN8MwOh2rx1T_0a0fWIBGSUCA/s400/Badlands.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I managed to get up to about 1300m, a few hundred metres higher than any road in New Zealand, and passed many pretty villages on the way to an extremely chilly overnight camp next to tunnels drilled in the rock. These tunnels were slightly mysterious, but over the other side of the valley I had noticed some houses that were actually part of the rock and mountainside. I assume that I was camping next to a work in progress, as I saw a few of these kinds of houses in this area of Spain.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhUeEDyHhbT4afNbfgQW57_yHCrbDgs6ERY9uXjizs5NEMrc63T3hWzXwBp3BU_o3IKutDQpElFTRPHqE9s5T5vEqqf1_zLWZ1gp3wrwWYK1a-a5gdxB5ujAUm2z94vJEESkANUiiv8xQ/s1600/Morning+sierras.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhUeEDyHhbT4afNbfgQW57_yHCrbDgs6ERY9uXjizs5NEMrc63T3hWzXwBp3BU_o3IKutDQpElFTRPHqE9s5T5vEqqf1_zLWZ1gp3wrwWYK1a-a5gdxB5ujAUm2z94vJEESkANUiiv8xQ/s400/Morning+sierras.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Some pleasant roads then followed on the way back to my Dad's place in Los Alcazeres, but on one section from Guadix to Baza the route planning was nigh on impossible. The only way on the bike looked as if I would be doing an extra 100Km or more because the direct route was on a road I couldn't cycle on. For this reason, I decided to hop on a bus for 60Km, which actually wasn't nearly as troublesome as I anticipated.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinex6kE-yCdwS1wLdimDElcWGhEGph1Yq25-ZKZ_4iykXdepy1CfokByQf6INUC5TfdxEYXVvfjqTM6ErgdVr1cpqt5aT2xDjJpiHK525FVhCT__dYx9FT-7gDlpwkQYe1l1xSQUYKI-g/s1600/In+the+Sierra+Nevadas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinex6kE-yCdwS1wLdimDElcWGhEGph1Yq25-ZKZ_4iykXdepy1CfokByQf6INUC5TfdxEYXVvfjqTM6ErgdVr1cpqt5aT2xDjJpiHK525FVhCT__dYx9FT-7gDlpwkQYe1l1xSQUYKI-g/s400/In+the+Sierra+Nevadas.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I got back to Los Alcazeres a day early, which I was very happy about so I was able to get some rest before the stressful business of packing up and going home. It had been an eventful trip, much harder logistically than I had imagined, but it had been nice to take a break from the doom and gloom of a British winter and get some sunshine, which it was every single day.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsry_7MnRoYix821rV4WmDQaMErSsxGrrufRSBH2VY_Whip0azGMdYs9IyiXCfNRMSwF0YbuRJBWAfinAW3ywfjBbafU3xR9I8AAK6hhP4KpHcB_Eux2Vz3Pl0wkl4TyKCkTOYefQCrak/s1600/Heavy+door.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="528" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsry_7MnRoYix821rV4WmDQaMErSsxGrrufRSBH2VY_Whip0azGMdYs9IyiXCfNRMSwF0YbuRJBWAfinAW3ywfjBbafU3xR9I8AAK6hhP4KpHcB_Eux2Vz3Pl0wkl4TyKCkTOYefQCrak/s400/Heavy+door.jpg" width="220" /></a></div>
<br />
I am thinking now of taking a break from the cycle touring, at least the conventional kind. The plan is to move to New Zealand in 2020 and I have no plans for any more bike tours in 2019. I am certainly thinking of other things though, like a return to some hiking and maybe some running. Once in New Zealand, I am hoping to hit the trails on a new bike and perhaps do some bikepacking. The adventures will definitely continue.Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-28780832082130563532019-02-05T11:42:00.000-08:002019-02-05T11:42:51.802-08:00Southern Spain 10-Day Andalusia Tour Plan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAsu1uxetIcAlz7aSgLf_1PW6rwsr76sssbKl73Xr5z37j9CV2t_Av4eS_7Zl0NTHHd_OzUQ5xfwkNAIzu7cUBA1YqNJWAquTzCGmm-58BjT4wS16XutKuILLwk-6CgXYWsOVrT1qehXo/s1600/Spain+full+tour.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="701" data-original-width="964" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAsu1uxetIcAlz7aSgLf_1PW6rwsr76sssbKl73Xr5z37j9CV2t_Av4eS_7Zl0NTHHd_OzUQ5xfwkNAIzu7cUBA1YqNJWAquTzCGmm-58BjT4wS16XutKuILLwk-6CgXYWsOVrT1qehXo/s400/Spain+full+tour.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
It is always a bit sad when you finish an epic tour. After about 4 months in New Zealand and over 5 months touring in Australia before that (not to mention 2 weeks touring in California), 2018 was quite a year of bicycle touring, and not one that I can imagine repeating again any time soon (I have to grow-up some day). I was in dreamland, and with hours and hours of beautiful southern hemisphere sun with some idyllic scenery as a permanent backdrop, I had been spoiled. That's why coming back to England in mid-Winter was a bit of a shock to the system.<br />
<br />
One of the problems with England at this time of year is the lack of sun; it is dreary, cold, damp and dark pretty much every day. With this in mind, then, I thought I needed a little break to one of the sunniest places in Europe.<br />
<br />
Andalusia receives 325 days of sun every year, and being quite a bit further South with more hours of daylight, it seemed the logical destination for Winter in Europe. Added to this, my Dad has an apartment in this area of the world, so this is a good base of operations for me to get myself sorted when I arrive and when I leave. And finally, at £10 each way to fly there, I couldn't go wrong.<br />
<br />
It's funny, Spain wasn't really an area of the world I had considered much for bicycle touring, but after some research, Andalusia appears to be a perfect destination. Wide open spaces, little traffic, beautiful scenery, and impressive cultural stops with fascinating architecture abound along my proposed route. <br />
<br />
I am definitely setting myself a challenging route with this one, in more ways than one. Firstly, this will be the first tour I have done in a non-English speaking country, although with the amount of British holidaymakers that come here every summer, I expect there will at least be some people to help me out if I'm in a jam. The route also includes some train journeys to enable me to fit more in, and with a network of unfamiliar roads, logistically this is a bit of a challenge.<br />
<br />
But physically too, this route will test me. With 10 days on the go, I will have only one day off the bike, and when I'm on the bike I will have to do approximately 130-140Km a day to get back in time for my return flight. Challenging on mainly flat terrain, but this is a hilly and mountainous trip, something I had not really realised about this part of the world. There are some big climbs here - higher than in New Zealand in fact - up in the Sierra Nevada mountains. For some reason though, since I have been back in the UK, I feel really up for a physical challenge again.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheKs46n98O65vzHwDKE7T6TiseBdIZa02J19V3ENfp3inn-xxjODooxu8R8nk0nMsGtkIiFt3Bcdozoxhu8mvkWjP9w3EA6rXZk0E5nJZRKB0cbtFpPTb5tM5XHQNhOqU04dPUej8pc14/s1600/Spain+tour+Leg+1.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="471" data-original-width="794" height="377" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheKs46n98O65vzHwDKE7T6TiseBdIZa02J19V3ENfp3inn-xxjODooxu8R8nk0nMsGtkIiFt3Bcdozoxhu8mvkWjP9w3EA6rXZk0E5nJZRKB0cbtFpPTb5tM5XHQNhOqU04dPUej8pc14/s640/Spain+tour+Leg+1.PNG" width="640" /></a></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqbQopfSxko_pq-gV-YVmSBuq0-_525CUFa7TqacDBj6a8CWkgvm1kdMPxB1kdcxbBUcqK7IscGM9ByEVRI7LleFcPvDAaBzmgNaAmYuFYs99Y6DyM1IpcMMDdSMj5tML2Be53h181c98/s1600/Spain+tour+Leg+1+profile.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="139" data-original-width="439" height="126" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqbQopfSxko_pq-gV-YVmSBuq0-_525CUFa7TqacDBj6a8CWkgvm1kdMPxB1kdcxbBUcqK7IscGM9ByEVRI7LleFcPvDAaBzmgNaAmYuFYs99Y6DyM1IpcMMDdSMj5tML2Be53h181c98/s400/Spain+tour+Leg+1+profile.PNG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The first section taking up to Granada in the Sierra Nevada mountains after coming down the coast of southern Spain.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Towards the end of the tour I will be ascending to an altitude of about 1750m, just a little shy of the highest road I have ever ridden, which was in the Australian Alps on my Christmas tour in 2015. But before that I will rise several times over the ten days to over 1000m. Technically, I could have a go at ascending the highest road in Europe in this tour, the Pico de Valeta which goes up to about 3300m, however with it being Winter it is likely the road will be blocked with snow, not to mention mighty cold. Instead I will be heading up to Granada on the Goat Path Road, the Carretera de la Cabra, supposedly one of the most scenic roads in this region.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXkSFYyc27xXIXf7PjQdkclEWyEhMtnF0ush2YvMzCaJPzdMvnz6aoqtiiUuFhNjPsGaA1Y25ooFVgffTjlmOlHMivdnpVIDHp56SpQdarJaxXdNgLvvQ8UR4zl8E55LZIzytCiXJkDas/s1600/Spain+tour+leg+2.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="628" data-original-width="1187" height="337" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXkSFYyc27xXIXf7PjQdkclEWyEhMtnF0ush2YvMzCaJPzdMvnz6aoqtiiUuFhNjPsGaA1Y25ooFVgffTjlmOlHMivdnpVIDHp56SpQdarJaxXdNgLvvQ8UR4zl8E55LZIzytCiXJkDas/s640/Spain+tour+leg+2.PNG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPAKrGVd2EhhXocfZMAJaY9Ir_YV-mQsTcdzFKRYRsQeEbRwKgIjpJtTXoFUiToFTyNtOeamEviO28I0tdgwq_9y2PFrB7uzc0cl2ni8ts4rOil5MrQW0W9DhyS4uzTVNvyrH1KW5M9W8/s1600/Spain+tour+Leg+2+profile.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="133" data-original-width="436" height="121" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPAKrGVd2EhhXocfZMAJaY9Ir_YV-mQsTcdzFKRYRsQeEbRwKgIjpJtTXoFUiToFTyNtOeamEviO28I0tdgwq_9y2PFrB7uzc0cl2ni8ts4rOil5MrQW0W9DhyS4uzTVNvyrH1KW5M9W8/s400/Spain+tour+Leg+2+profile.PNG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leg 2 from Granada to Seville via Rhonda</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The process of planning a tour is always a fascinating one. First I think of a place I want to go, then I look at the weather conditions at the time of year and see if it is feasible, then I check out what I might be able to see en route, and then I don't think of anything until a couple of weeks beforehand. Once the reality of the tour dawns on me, then I plan in more detail and all of a sudden the few famous places I was interested in seeing seem almost insignificant to the route and the journey to get there itself. I am more enthralled by the journey than the destinations.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicrcSndnyy3WPG4t2rh2y35WIoeeyGqfhVBihyqGbA0mtoYIRK99pIpxtvF77Tv2UdjouiaP-Wg_DFvQ59tsu4k0eHleGfoiwaGTXItMBT75Brw9b3i3055iTvrB4MZQytLuuLDp2jY7I/s1600/Spain+tour+Leg+3+%2528Train%2529.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="620" data-original-width="1084" height="364" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicrcSndnyy3WPG4t2rh2y35WIoeeyGqfhVBihyqGbA0mtoYIRK99pIpxtvF77Tv2UdjouiaP-Wg_DFvQ59tsu4k0eHleGfoiwaGTXItMBT75Brw9b3i3055iTvrB4MZQytLuuLDp2jY7I/s640/Spain+tour+Leg+3+%2528Train%2529.PNG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leg 3 on the train from Seville to Jaen via Cordoba.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So I had a few key areas I wanted to visit, which were Granada, Rhonda, Seville, and Cordoba. Then it was a question of linking it all together in a tour for about ten days. This was tricky seeing as this route was about 1500Km on the map, but as always when you ride the tour in reality, longer when you factor-in detours and the greater distances you cover using the more minor roads. All in all, this tour could not be done in ten days on the bike, that's why I will take the train between Seville and Jaen, cutting roughly 500Km off. Still a stretch, but doable.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkVm60oHOvMfuyEo8BV_Q_l5PMl6qcVPw-AeM_6-acrYmLnTIWnjhhFgGSiXNkrGBAYwgcPolJ5_438xFrItdftx2JVutTMXVTzBl2c-zyuqdyem05yAlRDp7invlq0xexiTFhhzIIPa8/s1600/Spain+tour+Leg+4.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="646" data-original-width="1364" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkVm60oHOvMfuyEo8BV_Q_l5PMl6qcVPw-AeM_6-acrYmLnTIWnjhhFgGSiXNkrGBAYwgcPolJ5_438xFrItdftx2JVutTMXVTzBl2c-zyuqdyem05yAlRDp7invlq0xexiTFhhzIIPa8/s640/Spain+tour+Leg+4.PNG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWhFOhJC9wS7Prr7mVYiTOhFYQfHRkj2zGwDVKjfn-skEXJ3gDnq7zFos_jAg3z5xN0Lu6JzYQ4cyP1ND5VlXmX0mDTZxodtG1smQ0HAJBKKRNWsaSWH11MnLrHLiz7IZqHt5jijkE-ww/s1600/Spain+tour+Leg+4+profile.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="132" data-original-width="441" height="118" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWhFOhJC9wS7Prr7mVYiTOhFYQfHRkj2zGwDVKjfn-skEXJ3gDnq7zFos_jAg3z5xN0Lu6JzYQ4cyP1ND5VlXmX0mDTZxodtG1smQ0HAJBKKRNWsaSWH11MnLrHLiz7IZqHt5jijkE-ww/s400/Spain+tour+Leg+4+profile.PNG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The final and toughest leg of the tour back to Los Alcazeres.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The last leg of the trip back to Los Alcazeres should be the hardest, but I should have adapted physically by then. With the covering of so many kilometres in a short period of time, this tour should be quite a challenge, but unlike in New Zealand I should be travelling quite a bit lighter. No computer, no squash rackets, less clothing, and no big backpack, so hopefully the bike will be a bit easier to crank up those climbs.<br />
<br />
I have been to Spain many times in my youth, but I don't think I have ever ventured out of a beach resort, so this will be a completely different experience and a much more authentic look at Spain, her terrain and her culture. It promises to be a intriguing mini Winter adventure and another great short tour outside of Australasia.<br />
<br />Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-89969951612514281442018-12-03T10:59:00.000-08:002018-12-03T10:59:40.179-08:00Te Anau - Milford Sound - Te Anau - Queenstown - End of Tour!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb8Cf3Wpy-u6IIKQzo6SAZ4UrkfuoIc-yAuybIQnWdNxqAqT8pQXPaNodyWFc-cWGsdGAwrDcdsoc1c-HXc_EHNz3-xjtgoYIGFHjeuxPBmv2NK8o8nsHj5XA5NHKUPyMyyD37lHjuX-U/s1600/Kea+Milford+Sound.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="837" data-original-width="960" height="345" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb8Cf3Wpy-u6IIKQzo6SAZ4UrkfuoIc-yAuybIQnWdNxqAqT8pQXPaNodyWFc-cWGsdGAwrDcdsoc1c-HXc_EHNz3-xjtgoYIGFHjeuxPBmv2NK8o8nsHj5XA5NHKUPyMyyD37lHjuX-U/s400/Kea+Milford+Sound.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
So the home stretch of the tour and the New Zealand weather saved the worst for last, but seeing as I was so ahead of schedule, it wasn't much of a problem. I did have a fair amount of sitting and waiting in Te Anau though, which funnily enough, is exactly what I had to do here 2 years ago.<br />
<br />
I've spent more time in Te Anau than any other place in New Zealand and this is mainly because it rains a hell of a lot there. 2 years ago, I waited for 2 days to find a weather window to cycle into Milford Sound. Then after I came back, I had to wait 3 more days for a weather window to do some kayaking in Doubtful Sound. This time around I managed to have no time waiting to cycle into Milford Sound, but then because of work and 5 consecutive days of rain, I had 5 days to sit it out.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZtIxawDtohRnDmumDIqxv_Vbv1sDhrVsA5qs5ju_3aRyTjC6I82JNMsBT8qZSb8GmEqolZmOnEl2G7Ej69X8axtfN2Qjs4sxJsyokUgXpdFiKolC1PnNJXjvvkR2SVigsm4YbinlJUHI/s1600/Te+anau.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZtIxawDtohRnDmumDIqxv_Vbv1sDhrVsA5qs5ju_3aRyTjC6I82JNMsBT8qZSb8GmEqolZmOnEl2G7Ej69X8axtfN2Qjs4sxJsyokUgXpdFiKolC1PnNJXjvvkR2SVigsm4YbinlJUHI/s400/Te+anau.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rare clear skies over Lake Te Anau</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Last time I was in Te Anau, though, I was there a month earlier in October and this made booking into a hostel pretty easy. This time, however, I was in Te Anau in mid-November, and what a difference that made. It was about twice as busy, which meant no chance of finding an affordable bed inside, so that meant I had to rough it in a campsite in the tent.<br />
<br />
The tent has held-up remarkably well considering I have stayed in it most days over the last 8 months or so, and it kept me warm, dry, and comfortable in the relentless rain showers. On my first night in Queenstown, sadly, one of my poles snapped. I did a bit of a repair job and it managed to still stand, although it was a bit of a slanty shanty.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJF1bZmyalhpQy95G6lUDvCJsaFX2i0HReleXQHXMm17ssO4fbG-5966Yra2ExY6zAy1N0WtBCXWj5PFAJoa_GwhkW1E7CrXpk1OpJ0w1Ae7CeyK2YVY-dSYyCTbisVnu3RwUSlrStvrM/s1600/The+milford+road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJF1bZmyalhpQy95G6lUDvCJsaFX2i0HReleXQHXMm17ssO4fbG-5966Yra2ExY6zAy1N0WtBCXWj5PFAJoa_GwhkW1E7CrXpk1OpJ0w1Ae7CeyK2YVY-dSYyCTbisVnu3RwUSlrStvrM/s400/The+milford+road.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The first port of call was Milford Sound. Now, I had cycled in and out of Milford Sound before, so I was exploring ways I could get in there without expending so much effort. The reason I was going again (not that you need another reason for wanting to go to this beautiful place twice) was to scuba dive there, as it seemed a pretty awesome place for a dive and to keep my skills updated.<br />
<br />
In the end, of course, I ended-up just cycling in. The other options were to catch a shuttle bus, which was too expensive, or to hitchhike. The second option might seem a good idea, as Milford Sound is a dead end; there is only one road in and out. However, when I thought about it, I felt a bit guilty and I didn't want to be a fifth wheel on someone's trip of a lifetime into the Sound.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjORqDmrQV5ELQfI3HpUgCrhhdQ7fju_sitN2CD_1tP3U316ckNM9OMaAV-fZOC44D_0s55p8zroVK7yT4FqA_CDZukV1knngfH0x6qTA1gL7S3nziI_-jctdkUTxlDWPLQW5jroiW4Pek/s1600/Top+of+Milford.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjORqDmrQV5ELQfI3HpUgCrhhdQ7fju_sitN2CD_1tP3U316ckNM9OMaAV-fZOC44D_0s55p8zroVK7yT4FqA_CDZukV1knngfH0x6qTA1gL7S3nziI_-jctdkUTxlDWPLQW5jroiW4Pek/s400/Top+of+Milford.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Luckily, I managed to find a naughty wild camping spot not far from the Sound after the long cycle in and up to the Homer tunnel. Although I was chuffed to not have to pay for camping, I did have to spend the night with thousands of sandflies, possibly the only downside of going to Milford Sound. I had to be up early for the dive, which was scheduled to depart at 8am.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ZyKVxUeKMJbNFx7_E6Nv7cYag2lVEPEkQHl-j8sSq32WnMmFUUfc_ws9ES7ldK9ZBkOG-o56XyeiStXGP4_G6YBBVUhBymH6FTSr44VQmmRttnAvcaCd2p0AjHWeaBO0zXK19IdRxug/s1600/Milford+photographer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="836" data-original-width="960" height="345" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ZyKVxUeKMJbNFx7_E6Nv7cYag2lVEPEkQHl-j8sSq32WnMmFUUfc_ws9ES7ldK9ZBkOG-o56XyeiStXGP4_G6YBBVUhBymH6FTSr44VQmmRttnAvcaCd2p0AjHWeaBO0zXK19IdRxug/s400/Milford+photographer.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I got up super-early and wanted to head to the Sound for a spot of breakfast with a view undisturbed by tourists. I was joined by two curious kea, who as usual, were very interested in my bike.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikXDPyHZIZDWMPo-P1nCAfd-JrjZ2yKTsEpg0sgYnCS89Hh04AC7rk4PYB-rSZilJQuwJpIjtnxk9qT1G8nSPaWaEos8iw4QqL2gqXIvl0SdLdpzhQjW0Pf73_KB2_FWnBAcU8filrhf4/s1600/Me+in+scuba+gear+Milford.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="528" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikXDPyHZIZDWMPo-P1nCAfd-JrjZ2yKTsEpg0sgYnCS89Hh04AC7rk4PYB-rSZilJQuwJpIjtnxk9qT1G8nSPaWaEos8iw4QqL2gqXIvl0SdLdpzhQjW0Pf73_KB2_FWnBAcU8filrhf4/s400/Me+in+scuba+gear+Milford.jpg" width="218" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't look cool, I know. But wait til you see the one of me underwater.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Getting prepared for the dive was quite something. The water was a chilly 11 degrees Celsius; I can't dry suit dive, so I had to wear a very thick wetsuit, with a hood, socks, boots, and two vests underneath. Getting into wetsuits isn't easy at the best of times, let alone when they are so thick. They did keep me nice and warm throughout the day though, which was the important thing.<br />
<br />
The boat was much smaller than I had imagined, and I was joined by only 4 other divers, so the trip was very personal, which made it seem extra-special. The diving itself was really interesting. Not only was it different to the usual warm-water, coral reef dives, but because of the uniqueness of the environment and the protected nature of the waters, it made for a some very special and unusual marine life.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUTGa4KoqjlrRwSaNicIZ5rbY3gPxdRejwvjofzkYUbQ6UM5l0L-8ptr2hbqstA3ayS1zOTLW9He8r7o0HQotgixdgd4b0zz8_mMyWhuKFDHqa4VKhwAzHNAMJpCe86s5mFf6kXuznPvo/s1600/Me+scuba+Milford.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="793" data-original-width="960" height="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUTGa4KoqjlrRwSaNicIZ5rbY3gPxdRejwvjofzkYUbQ6UM5l0L-8ptr2hbqstA3ayS1zOTLW9He8r7o0HQotgixdgd4b0zz8_mMyWhuKFDHqa4VKhwAzHNAMJpCe86s5mFf6kXuznPvo/s400/Me+scuba+Milford.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That little fish was quite interested in me and spent a couple of minutes staring into my eyes.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Because of the high rock walls of the mountains in Milford Sound, it creates a much darker environment underwater than normal in relatively shallow conditions. This means Milford Sound is one of the best places in the world to see deep water species of fish and coral at more shallow depths accessible to divers. Black coral dominates the underwater landscape of Milford Sound, which reminded me very much of Christmas, as the coral is actually white when it is alive, but goes black when it dies.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzssqkMWrBA9-KBElO-KKIJkbPlgg5XbUTo1G-26v-H0FwmrspmeB0qIS7DBteslv48hCvti-I6PNVkovYxqrxxqyk3YP62J49tyyLeDb4EibiqEEQe9af2R1eta7WfQOSXMw0dnBl_Vk/s1600/Black+coral.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzssqkMWrBA9-KBElO-KKIJkbPlgg5XbUTo1G-26v-H0FwmrspmeB0qIS7DBteslv48hCvti-I6PNVkovYxqrxxqyk3YP62J49tyyLeDb4EibiqEEQe9af2R1eta7WfQOSXMw0dnBl_Vk/s400/Black+coral.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Animal species spotted on the day included; octopus, loads of huge crayfish (protected in these waters, so they grew to mammoth proportions), 1 metre-long dog sharks, and a plethora of weird and interesting fish, one of which checked me out closely on the first dive down.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCgm_XBf0AWLZPIeHsr2mpST-G-75t2e-QJ1pZCkzJ9hPvAqoXVesEkWHhnEPAJN9hgn1B4mGLQigOQt9OJSo2VJSXWw8742jhSmOukt7kB2zCVLq5jcbW8HUSPsQh3VvIdprkQs6p7Ks/s1600/Penguins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCgm_XBf0AWLZPIeHsr2mpST-G-75t2e-QJ1pZCkzJ9hPvAqoXVesEkWHhnEPAJN9hgn1B4mGLQigOQt9OJSo2VJSXWw8742jhSmOukt7kB2zCVLq5jcbW8HUSPsQh3VvIdprkQs6p7Ks/s400/Penguins.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Right in the middle of the picture, two little fiordland penguins at the top of the rocks checking out what is going on.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The action wasn't only underwater; on the boat we were lucky enough to spot a family of fiordland penguins watching us from the shore. Having missed the penguins of Curio Bay, I was delighted to finally get a look at some, even if it was from some distance. There were plenty of seals hanging around on the rocks also.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTnePadZVd5pidguhrAfGVUuYKuL2OdYV8aNjVzKbfsqgyOuanqF1HIu8vsssAmCDucQfnEhIpH3sxIy1KF5SMIJaGrzNPsIqK7bi8Dm5vvgjeVKtogAqYVJEjNdBTkLOW51sNvLJOEuE/s1600/Milford+sound+with+seal+and+boat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTnePadZVd5pidguhrAfGVUuYKuL2OdYV8aNjVzKbfsqgyOuanqF1HIu8vsssAmCDucQfnEhIpH3sxIy1KF5SMIJaGrzNPsIqK7bi8Dm5vvgjeVKtogAqYVJEjNdBTkLOW51sNvLJOEuE/s400/Milford+sound+with+seal+and+boat.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The wetsuits did their job, but things were still pretty cold once out of the water on the boat, so between dives we were sent out on a mini expedition to one of the Sound's many waterfalls. This first required a short swim to shore in our extremely buoyant wetsuits, so buoyant that it was hard to do any swimming stroke except for a doggy paddle. Then all it took was a short walk through the bush to get to the waterfall. There was one German chap on the trip with us who had a very expensive-looking underwater casing for his camera so he took some shots of the group under the waterfall. To be honest though, the guy was a little strange, so even though he promised to email the picture on, I won't hold my breath.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-a7heGVhlvjnU3NYfRRT19HIUhM2dBD9ekp4t-mPDZp9aMkUkS3z1LiLFCcOJ4K8liv51zry-x2BxkUSwxUQLpHwwmD24RZPCywR87ZD8_TD-qjTTrmV16msbMHEgfFUP_pJqgB6PMRg/s1600/Seal+jumping+in+water.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-a7heGVhlvjnU3NYfRRT19HIUhM2dBD9ekp4t-mPDZp9aMkUkS3z1LiLFCcOJ4K8liv51zry-x2BxkUSwxUQLpHwwmD24RZPCywR87ZD8_TD-qjTTrmV16msbMHEgfFUP_pJqgB6PMRg/s400/Seal+jumping+in+water.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Having cycled all the way in, I was sure someone would be able to give me a lift out. It is much harder to cycle out of Milford Sound because the gradient is much steeper, and with the previous experience of this 2 years ago, I saw no reason to do it again. Unfortunately, though, no one could do it, so I had to suffer the steep 2-hour climb out.<br />
<br />
The climb was brutal, but I had a big stroke of luck at the top. Homer tunnel is patrolled by people during the day to make sure no one gets into trouble because of the conditions, and the steepness of the road can sometimes cause car engines to over-heat. On the way out of the Sound, riding through Homer tunnel isn't really an option, as it would just take too long and you hold-up all the traffic. For this reason, the staff offer cyclists a lift through using the bike rack on the back of their vehicle.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKTAu6E7guM9r-KgQ2vxhGKtW9xm8VlEPpi6dMBNNrQLI4TIgPzqFp-UdsFHbM7czFHHOAOaBLSHVPiuxXacHnEttZ869xSXtVf-MLda7lH7LLpUwZCTezAjENhEuLijx4gipcYSSlH44/s1600/Homer+tunnel+control.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKTAu6E7guM9r-KgQ2vxhGKtW9xm8VlEPpi6dMBNNrQLI4TIgPzqFp-UdsFHbM7czFHHOAOaBLSHVPiuxXacHnEttZ869xSXtVf-MLda7lH7LLpUwZCTezAjENhEuLijx4gipcYSSlH44/s400/Homer+tunnel+control.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Homer tunnel control centre.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Luckily for me, I had hit the tunnel at the perfect time, just as they were going home for the day, so after I was given a lift through the tunnel, I was offered a lift further down the road also. Knowing full-well that the next day's weather forecast was terrible, the offer of a lift all the way back to Te Anau was too good to resist. It wouldn't have been a particularly hard cycle, but it would have been a miserably wet one the next day.<br />
<br />
Back to Te Anau then, and I had some work to do for a couple of days. The weather was diabolical for the next few days, but I had plenty of time to get to Queenstown, so although I was eager to get going, it wasn't a disaster.<br />
<br />
With a bit of time on my hands, I managed to arrange a game of squash with a local player, ranked in the top 3 in the country at over 45 years old. Up until the point of writing, I have not lost a match either on my tour of Australia or here in New Zealand, this is despite having hardly played for weeks on end at times. I came closest to losing on this occasion, though. I had played a supposedly higher level player in Dunedin, but he was a young guy who was very fit and just ran around and I just controlled the game no problem. Shane (my opponent in Te Anau) was a different kettle of fish, an older, cannier, player with lots of holds and good racket work, which really tested my rusty movement and I fell 2 games to love down in no time.<br />
<br />
I have come to learn that I am quite a disagreeable person; I really enjoy confrontation, especially in argument, and I am quite competitive. I used to think this was born out of insecurity, I thought I should be above getting upset over losing, that it wasn't logical somehow or other things were more important, so I should have some perspective. I have since learned that this is probably just a natural aspect of my personality; even when I was quite shy and quiet when I was younger, I never had a problem telling people when I thought they were wrong, and I fiercely came out of my shell in a sporting context.<br />
<br />
With this in mind then, I was pretty motivated to keep my 100% record and wasn't treating this as a nice little friendly match with a local. I kept things friendly off court, obviously, but played a few mind games with him by telling him that no one had beaten me yet, and there was no pressure on him. I'm sure it made no difference, but it helped my psychology as I fought the urge to have a head explosion at moving around the court like Bambi on ice and just calmed-down with a steely determination to win. I ended-up clawing it back and winning a hard fought match 3-2, 100% record still in tact, for now at least.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQo0dwEbJJE3ftWKmTC6_a-OxgRDTDusurrMRcnF3Rr5S0kIGnmvWb8Yhm0PCAEAk2oUkI9hn0aUqa-2LWzdTjaJ0djhSjVQjOb5qTcEDdT6g9lMQ9LW9lHoVjS8TRPNRx7pXRvPX1kUY/s1600/Road+to+Mavora.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQo0dwEbJJE3ftWKmTC6_a-OxgRDTDusurrMRcnF3Rr5S0kIGnmvWb8Yhm0PCAEAk2oUkI9hn0aUqa-2LWzdTjaJ0djhSjVQjOb5qTcEDdT6g9lMQ9LW9lHoVjS8TRPNRx7pXRvPX1kUY/s400/Road+to+Mavora.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I was as stiff as a board the next day and could hardly move, so I guess it was sort of lucky it rained all day, forcing me to do nothing. Squash must be one of the worst sports for muscle stiffness if you haven't played for a while; hips, lower back, and butt in particular were very sore, in a good way though, like you know you've worked hard.<br />
<br />
I tried to sneak-in workouts where I could the following couple of days, running on the many trails in the area and doing some bodyweight exercises.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Finally the weather cleared and it was time for the final stretch of the trip, just 120Km into Queenstown via the very scenic route. It was quite an adventurous and spectacular finish to another amazing bicycle tour of New Zealand.<br />
<br />
Instead of taking the main road into Queenstown, I took the back roads, which first lead to the Mavora Lakes and then passed through pristine valleys with high mountains to Walter Peak on the opposite side of the lake to Queenstown.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC10_zEmXU56hsjQP1HJV9OOyB071PqkXKyUSpMfrzNGwaNuRhosZF7F37EIw_uL8G90-tf88tplP0ZY1mQDFaTeS1lwGGDYrh3QAkv5TbYJ-rW-SPrJCytJgZqHu_Ojo8hb6bFSsp7DY/s1600/Mavora+lakes+camping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC10_zEmXU56hsjQP1HJV9OOyB071PqkXKyUSpMfrzNGwaNuRhosZF7F37EIw_uL8G90-tf88tplP0ZY1mQDFaTeS1lwGGDYrh3QAkv5TbYJ-rW-SPrJCytJgZqHu_Ojo8hb6bFSsp7DY/s400/Mavora+lakes+camping.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
It was a great ride and I took things nice and easy doing only 60K or so on both days, camping at Mavora Lake overnight, which was a stunning place to camp, although again inhabited by thousands of sandflies.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ucTBN9B0Jo0tPdA3yfaXGmASIf2IeZ2v4yMIWH2m1RUcI6lLnXEYu3I5jmjaIXkjctprLsNB1vEr6E4Hl0dPqCZHVN54QXVioXVWevtMzekMLQsFv4xHQ8axz9ON6pQU4nJldyQwPCM/s1600/Water+crossing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ucTBN9B0Jo0tPdA3yfaXGmASIf2IeZ2v4yMIWH2m1RUcI6lLnXEYu3I5jmjaIXkjctprLsNB1vEr6E4Hl0dPqCZHVN54QXVioXVWevtMzekMLQsFv4xHQ8axz9ON6pQU4nJldyQwPCM/s400/Water+crossing.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The first of two ford crossings.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
At the Mavora Lakes I was joined by 3 other cycle tourers; a couple from Belgium and a girl from the UK, but who was living in Queenstown and had not long started her tour from Bluff to Cape Reinga. Everyone was very nice and we enjoyed a nice chat in the evening and in the morning over some coffee.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7fEBK0Q-Fw7pYaHDzq0qMRUi0jkePSYQD5fbwSRz7iGliQs4OyfJ2vN9i9cr3IOUaJqbbrm5HMgNPFRHubpfv4ibRE7exUCYC_zdK-nMeSy0Q7c45rhsnJKZJU36I6C0QfW3eIsU87cI/s1600/Me+crossing+ford.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7fEBK0Q-Fw7pYaHDzq0qMRUi0jkePSYQD5fbwSRz7iGliQs4OyfJ2vN9i9cr3IOUaJqbbrm5HMgNPFRHubpfv4ibRE7exUCYC_zdK-nMeSy0Q7c45rhsnJKZJU36I6C0QfW3eIsU87cI/s400/Me+crossing+ford.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The second ford crossing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The Belgian couple were very friendly, and had cycled from Belgium to Turkey, then took a plane to Australia and cycled from Sydney to Melbourne. They actually cycled the Barry Way, which I had done previously and was some of my favourite riding in Australia, so they quite enjoyed their short tour of Australia before coming to New Zealand.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPA2je0RKrQfMe9_mGj3-W4Bb6g6ibhUua_TiBb2uUQ5KRTR6kpYIRQFICsOiupQNPMfO_LsnGT6f7ji94ep28VEKyuqlKi58qza3yqU8Q-7nYmpNIrDVeprOJ58u37vaeZVCfy-a4hxs/s1600/Von+valley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPA2je0RKrQfMe9_mGj3-W4Bb6g6ibhUua_TiBb2uUQ5KRTR6kpYIRQFICsOiupQNPMfO_LsnGT6f7ji94ep28VEKyuqlKi58qza3yqU8Q-7nYmpNIrDVeprOJ58u37vaeZVCfy-a4hxs/s400/Von+valley.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I set off early the next day expecting to be caught-up by the English girl, who was traveling much lighter than me, and sure enough, after an hour or so we met at the first stream crossing. After that we decided to cycle together for the rest of the way. I just about managed to keep up, although I did bomb past her going downhill as the weight of my bike creates quite a lot of momentum.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIT0iuIlZYzISGzcs-4YYRB_jOHu_F7rgSb6ot0BOvM1aHvJEUrjjl9mhGhmPtG4BYBs0oGRhlXlUXqWehO1EMgqHbPdnHm-bSNJ_XES1AmZAkAWwidmIm9JDHFBm9LCznNlyh_68HL0c/s1600/Von+valley+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIT0iuIlZYzISGzcs-4YYRB_jOHu_F7rgSb6ot0BOvM1aHvJEUrjjl9mhGhmPtG4BYBs0oGRhlXlUXqWehO1EMgqHbPdnHm-bSNJ_XES1AmZAkAWwidmIm9JDHFBm9LCznNlyh_68HL0c/s400/Von+valley+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ronnie looking on to the Von Valley.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It was ironic that the only day of the whole tour that I rode with someone was the last. It was great as Ronnie was good company and it was nice to get some pictures of me on the bike. Once we got into Walter Peak, she crossed to Queenstown on the ferry and I went to a free campsite close to shore, which was absolutely stunning. The two best campsites on tour were on the last two days.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDh9ilOnwS9lc5CWzB2kiyuC14pb89BdYyIVfmAL7KhsfNUGlJucpTV_lRAAz0H7gTYgCM93Cv-Yvy1ETBgIt8kryF-r8rOVPsoDNQ_tlD2PylSpdqDG84y_-YB6Xl6DyzTIgHBUKgU54/s1600/Roadside+shot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDh9ilOnwS9lc5CWzB2kiyuC14pb89BdYyIVfmAL7KhsfNUGlJucpTV_lRAAz0H7gTYgCM93Cv-Yvy1ETBgIt8kryF-r8rOVPsoDNQ_tlD2PylSpdqDG84y_-YB6Xl6DyzTIgHBUKgU54/s400/Roadside+shot.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Although the tour had officially ended, I now have plenty of time left in New Zealand. After a few days in Queenstown, I will be joined by my wife, Eunji, for two weeks in the car and I will be revisiting some places and making sure I get to other parts I didn't reach this time around, especially the West coast of the South Island.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg05FeMQQUH2ZqSCCZiMmeTcOQguh0bjJkjoPKQW43zXQLlC_RKqdz00H1Bm7ewJOnzyytyA-KvpHubB5wE0Geey9cBBHZz877i33TX5wOPwwQtuZtT1SNqDijQoV_eAyJXnIcIGKd0VRY/s1600/Von+valley+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg05FeMQQUH2ZqSCCZiMmeTcOQguh0bjJkjoPKQW43zXQLlC_RKqdz00H1Bm7ewJOnzyytyA-KvpHubB5wE0Geey9cBBHZz877i33TX5wOPwwQtuZtT1SNqDijQoV_eAyJXnIcIGKd0VRY/s400/Von+valley+3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
With a few days wait in Queenstown, I used the time to do some weight training, some sprints, hiking, and some trail running to wake up the legs that had adapted mainly to cycling for the past few months. I was also keen to explore some of the back roads and trails of Queenstown and Arrowtown while I had some time.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBINAGVc_CEm6m73PFVzzlGVpRsmLrE7bXniwmMCMkMpWjtld29nK5tvXzg5rkWeAwiie1KxILHCgOuKUIYAhF6IuhZMH2n97a2dHBNsWHJiFblnT8kmgO55E6PntxbfhumCbEPplZBzs/s1600/Road+into+Walter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBINAGVc_CEm6m73PFVzzlGVpRsmLrE7bXniwmMCMkMpWjtld29nK5tvXzg5rkWeAwiie1KxILHCgOuKUIYAhF6IuhZMH2n97a2dHBNsWHJiFblnT8kmgO55E6PntxbfhumCbEPplZBzs/s400/Road+into+Walter.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Amazingly, over the last 8 months of touring on the bike, I have managed to do things almost exactly on budget. My aim financially was to be able to fund the everyday expenses (food, accommodation, bike repairs and new parts, etc) of the tour by earning approximately $200 a week teaching English online. At the end of the tours of Australia and New Zealand, I find myself about $50 to the good in this regard. I accepted that expensive trips like scuba diving, whale watching, and other adventures would have to be funded out of my savings. In Australia, I spent far more on these things, but in New Zealand it was only really 2 scuba dives at opposite ends of the country. I will probably also do something with Eunji when she gets here too.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcIZboRKuo5KcGXs5rV0VzBHTo8Y-UrMcpshB5k9lQnPgClZk8Gua0ZHSzFq4mJcA8q6r7NeneL9la9qAqwJ7kKZaeGc6-VoD_6bAYJzJmhHJiPOwP2vtyLw5gzvXSz_HWiiIwEI3rAB8/s1600/Me+cycling+into+walter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcIZboRKuo5KcGXs5rV0VzBHTo8Y-UrMcpshB5k9lQnPgClZk8Gua0ZHSzFq4mJcA8q6r7NeneL9la9qAqwJ7kKZaeGc6-VoD_6bAYJzJmhHJiPOwP2vtyLw5gzvXSz_HWiiIwEI3rAB8/s400/Me+cycling+into+walter.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
So that's me probably done with New Zealand on a touring bike. I feel like I have explored this beautiful country extremely well now, although I can see myself at some time in the future coming back to do some shorter trips cycling the trails. This trip was even better than the first and has definitely reinforced my affinity for this beautiful country.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk3JlDdgyHBxhvVXMKJJx-fUxgOvcPV0UARYiJEbDuzFz3sXcsemCZig3xW3ITLkMGPOSRmYmuymvm5fRBS01RJHVIXLeAN6tTDa3YKZswa5DVdQygg4mEv_uUf3-0-pPneKLwy8pJci8/s1600/Walter+camping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk3JlDdgyHBxhvVXMKJJx-fUxgOvcPV0UARYiJEbDuzFz3sXcsemCZig3xW3ITLkMGPOSRmYmuymvm5fRBS01RJHVIXLeAN6tTDa3YKZswa5DVdQygg4mEv_uUf3-0-pPneKLwy8pJci8/s400/Walter+camping.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The most amazing free campsite of the trip was on the last day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-36566563106689788642018-11-17T12:02:00.001-08:002018-11-17T12:02:45.229-08:00Dunedin to Te Anau<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyjOm3ln35KU54pjqHMTxebDBfm-Skwy7t08ye7WGcQYc7tPxvH0kKiegYWtuyf10dhCG78hwTh99hJqiQu2e_vCVC9ydIho44TfN5OrkoHB3R6bWYQ_J5BsLEFE3zD-R0mQZUxw6psR4/s1600/Nugget+Point+LH+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyjOm3ln35KU54pjqHMTxebDBfm-Skwy7t08ye7WGcQYc7tPxvH0kKiegYWtuyf10dhCG78hwTh99hJqiQu2e_vCVC9ydIho44TfN5OrkoHB3R6bWYQ_J5BsLEFE3zD-R0mQZUxw6psR4/s400/Nugget+Point+LH+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nugget Point</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
I had arrived in Dunedin, the hilly city, and boy did it live up to it's reputation. Dunedin is actually home to the steepest street in the world, Baldwin Street, at a 35% gradient, and although I was not tempted to challenge myself by cycling up it (I wouldn't have got very far), I did manage to find plenty of other roads to test myself on.<br />
<br />
Absolutely broken by the cycle into Dunedin, I settled into a hostel and just did nothing for the rest of the day, but managed to arrange a warmshowers host for the following two days. Typically, their house was right on top of a steep hill.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjecX9PdKRHIE_pDIN5BtObLXFtAVVzo-YtTvAYXOcO6VGn6rEtjkPFvN6OmFPQjVFkka-aLSml82DLOnXBTr-uIMlU0gHTDpUBLEhb5CK8Ghc_dl9CdvqO9d6U3rjuNSzER4miAyvtHaU/s1600/Dunedin+rway+station.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjecX9PdKRHIE_pDIN5BtObLXFtAVVzo-YtTvAYXOcO6VGn6rEtjkPFvN6OmFPQjVFkka-aLSml82DLOnXBTr-uIMlU0gHTDpUBLEhb5CK8Ghc_dl9CdvqO9d6U3rjuNSzER4miAyvtHaU/s400/Dunedin+rway+station.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The famous old railway station in Dunedin.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Kel and Sharon were marvelous hosts; they did seem to know exactly what I needed and what would make me feel comfortable. They were both welcoming and sociable without being suffocating and it is fair to say that I really enjoyed my time with them. I think they were rather used to meeting and hosting new people. I especially appreciated being invited to Kel's parent's house for a big family dinner. Such a family atmosphere is a rare thing for a solo bicycle tourist, and it was nice to get a glimpse into New Zealand family life.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtyzf6kwkJ86sIhMZPvSAJJWN0UHYZzAkyXVF_WPqaRD7bY5FyHIzmSnllM74T4gQ6e2xdI_pQxX76BELwCya8NlnprOd7D_yD9WanS3fm0QKMQKjxCtvDJ_dUVq0opNmsLUoYIAgdQXE/s1600/Warmshowers+host+balcony.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtyzf6kwkJ86sIhMZPvSAJJWN0UHYZzAkyXVF_WPqaRD7bY5FyHIzmSnllM74T4gQ6e2xdI_pQxX76BELwCya8NlnprOd7D_yD9WanS3fm0QKMQKjxCtvDJ_dUVq0opNmsLUoYIAgdQXE/s400/Warmshowers+host+balcony.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My naked bike on Kel and Sharon's balcony.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Well-rested and well-fed, I planned to spend a couple of days in a campsite on the Otago Peninsula to do a bit of work and do a bit of exploring. It took me about 2 hours to get there from the centre of Dunedin.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx0fc5gVFKEgruPtx30uaGH2iHVobLeJZew4ozfhswQaFMfV98RAacUeWBZOhbB3gBPhoRrQ6Yvul8waCNQmCREEsDbCjTpp9R8oldOo3i6r5UNPLNA6kTKdcoy0qBxAQZy6BfAtDK9zk/s1600/Otago+penibsula+from+high.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx0fc5gVFKEgruPtx30uaGH2iHVobLeJZew4ozfhswQaFMfV98RAacUeWBZOhbB3gBPhoRrQ6Yvul8waCNQmCREEsDbCjTpp9R8oldOo3i6r5UNPLNA6kTKdcoy0qBxAQZy6BfAtDK9zk/s400/Otago+penibsula+from+high.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I wasn't sure what I thought about the Otago Peninsula. It was very scenic, but was a little money-grubbing also. Any possible attraction was monetised to an extortionate degree, which is a little unusual for New Zealand in my experience. It reminded me of a famous bit of narration in the film Goodfellas; "Wanna go see the penguins, sea lions or albatrosses? F@#k you, pay me.", "Wanna look at the castle? "F@#k you, pay me." "Wanna ride to the other side of the peninsula? F@#k you, pay me." Of course they weren't his exact words, but you get the idea. On each occasion, the sums of money being asked were not insignificant either.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMprwyMhCOHgiuhh9kSFp8IJUi8hw1IM07fPSLCweR2aPbPZ_qEv3rO3EzL_GDtxRoNzXiOUB5zMdayEc_DWDO9Y4bn_aTdes3fEAfKUsIsnL_i7KNWJmtWcvgTMXs-ygNFb5o1DeGCAU/s1600/Road+along+the+Otago+Pen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMprwyMhCOHgiuhh9kSFp8IJUi8hw1IM07fPSLCweR2aPbPZ_qEv3rO3EzL_GDtxRoNzXiOUB5zMdayEc_DWDO9Y4bn_aTdes3fEAfKUsIsnL_i7KNWJmtWcvgTMXs-ygNFb5o1DeGCAU/s400/Road+along+the+Otago+Pen.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Sometimes I do think I am a cycling contradiction when it comes to the philosophy of money. On the one hand, I have always been staunchly anti-work; and I don't mean that I think people shouldn't work hard, of course, cycle touring itself is hard work. What I mean by this is sacrificing your soul in pursuit of the almighty dollar. I have always worked for money as little as possible, but I don't think anyone could ever accuse me of being lazy, that's just not my style. Some people obviously enjoy their careers/jobs, but for many it is a meaningless grind.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDYzIw_lvImFvFjcIUzmtv2vqUa1JEn_bwXGJMZ_iIMd4ghOk2XD1MJTk5WRuviC4DVmQR9W8-l6u7tU7kYg9gwMyoehWddChgB46lsrj90uz0kmjq6DAjYLBBDASxRJ-wnyPdpLasZsQ/s1600/Hut+2+OP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDYzIw_lvImFvFjcIUzmtv2vqUa1JEn_bwXGJMZ_iIMd4ghOk2XD1MJTk5WRuviC4DVmQR9W8-l6u7tU7kYg9gwMyoehWddChgB46lsrj90uz0kmjq6DAjYLBBDASxRJ-wnyPdpLasZsQ/s400/Hut+2+OP.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There were lots of these nice little fishing huts dotted along the shoreline.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So with this in mind then, you might think I was vehemently opposed to capitalism, but you'd be wrong. It, in its purest free-market form, is without doubt best best solution out there, but the problem is that government has meddled with it so much that it has forced most people to be dependent on soul-sapping jobs and very little choice in their lives. If you want to have a family, you are going to be forced to sacrifice your soul for a all too significant portion of your life (obviously there are exceptions) and this is now true for men and women, whereas as in the past most families only needed one bread-winner.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdfwK26vKjiCz2HGn2XzxS9zKLpTTIl-bCCm8c5P-OrGaianZVD_R3pbW0lbLO2O4ku6GDWAgKI5hroSt1GKRuc0mYZn8ebuObJhMhpI2nxBsIeReSqU74zaJsD92em3Q3hVMvIkOqOgQ/s1600/End+of+otago+peninsula.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdfwK26vKjiCz2HGn2XzxS9zKLpTTIl-bCCm8c5P-OrGaianZVD_R3pbW0lbLO2O4ku6GDWAgKI5hroSt1GKRuc0mYZn8ebuObJhMhpI2nxBsIeReSqU74zaJsD92em3Q3hVMvIkOqOgQ/s400/End+of+otago+peninsula.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I won't go into details, after all this is not an economics blog. Cycle touring, for me, is a way of escaping this reality somewhat. I can survive on working 10 hours a week, and I will be looking at discovering ways to do even less, so that I have the freedom to explore life's possibilities and learn as much as I can in my short time on earth.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeIhefKVIgsrvuLwtke3urMexM5LmHvQp9XPaLJVaiAQOvHpAeRv65n6mz6bYvgmDt9AEacNgXCA5xLOtDt31o_qF1z7OjrbWCoYY2q3ux-wy2y8vjjQb45olZqQdOU4_69uBJuaVvcAE/s1600/Dunedin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeIhefKVIgsrvuLwtke3urMexM5LmHvQp9XPaLJVaiAQOvHpAeRv65n6mz6bYvgmDt9AEacNgXCA5xLOtDt31o_qF1z7OjrbWCoYY2q3ux-wy2y8vjjQb45olZqQdOU4_69uBJuaVvcAE/s400/Dunedin.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view of Dunedin from the Otago Peninsula.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It seems to me that building a conventional life, i.e. buying a house, raising a family, etc, is becoming more and more difficult, and not just difficult, stressful. I have always disliked children, and perhaps when I return to England many of my friends (who now have them) might be inclined to think that I have flippantly brushed-off the thought of having kids and that I haven't thought about the possible negative effects on my life - especially later on - and the joy and meaning they bring. I mean, what will I do in my old-age?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjun5Yt6tI6mO3C9a67tofO5dO0pjsQPIUO_lBTfBOeDuNFjeZqj4M6zE58SMIwsNmAeSc5YCchOUF9Pshg4RYQ_bsSfg6uGJ7j1Lz3_wOlhyphenhyphen-NYmuCXasGBfM91JDsdKNEUJRu0zXgkKw/s1600/Hut1+OP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjun5Yt6tI6mO3C9a67tofO5dO0pjsQPIUO_lBTfBOeDuNFjeZqj4M6zE58SMIwsNmAeSc5YCchOUF9Pshg4RYQ_bsSfg6uGJ7j1Lz3_wOlhyphenhyphen-NYmuCXasGBfM91JDsdKNEUJRu0zXgkKw/s400/Hut1+OP.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
On the contrary, I think about this stuff a lot, and I take very seriously the idea of raising a family, especially as I watch a fair amount of stuff from Jordan Peterson, who is a strong advocate for having children. Problem is though, I am not encouraged by what I see around me. Men, in particular seemed doomed to wage slavery in order to provide for their family (this problem is compounded in Far East Asia where they even have to provide for their parents as well, perhaps a major reason for the low birth rates there), while at the same time being completely unappreciated by wider society - and in my experience, their wives and girlfriends - for their efforts. The lack of freedom government laws and regulations allow - not to mention popular culture and it's restrictions - you in regards to raising children is also worrying, especially in my country of birth.<br />
<br />
I had the pleasure of staying with a couple earlier in this trip that home-schooled their children. In my country this is not only illegal, but if you take your kids out of school in term-time for a trip somewhere, you are prosecuted. No way am I going to put up with that. On principle, I would never have a child in a country with such pathetic and damaging laws, especially with a stultifying atmosphere in schools with a pinch of questionable moral (and sometimes overtly political) teaching, which I think shouldn't be a part of the classroom.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVVtA2nnEdxbIPX7K33BJ23CnMkhnU1SncXR1WnPMH7Wj2OdYLxmQ7S2AqrBU9WQbg22gOdjGy7K3f5S0Ivs-msRShOwDWzGrzd9K96oQA-BCAoqyMkNl_AcwWzxkf3ucE-oxXkSHVki0/s1600/Dunedin+to+Te+anau+route.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="477" data-original-width="557" height="341" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVVtA2nnEdxbIPX7K33BJ23CnMkhnU1SncXR1WnPMH7Wj2OdYLxmQ7S2AqrBU9WQbg22gOdjGy7K3f5S0Ivs-msRShOwDWzGrzd9K96oQA-BCAoqyMkNl_AcwWzxkf3ucE-oxXkSHVki0/s400/Dunedin+to+Te+anau+route.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFrSzh-RuxOusB5SwfFjVqCfkRc1uRLn-RuJ5bmjqP_LGo5G4c14OlUNu0v9PLIlYuLuM5b_pkreE2t8jmAKfHCwJQUcYI7G2t3uVh-ddzi9BIgW8smwpJ5QkmDHoht0ShR5srg8rLzik/s1600/Dunedin+to+Te+Anau+profile.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="119" data-original-width="387" height="118" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFrSzh-RuxOusB5SwfFjVqCfkRc1uRLn-RuJ5bmjqP_LGo5G4c14OlUNu0v9PLIlYuLuM5b_pkreE2t8jmAKfHCwJQUcYI7G2t3uVh-ddzi9BIgW8smwpJ5QkmDHoht0ShR5srg8rLzik/s400/Dunedin+to+Te+Anau+profile.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
So the combination of not liking kids, the inevitable stress that comes with it (not of the raising of children itself, I might add, but the expense and the amount of work that entails), and the fact I probably wouldn't see them anyway and having to leave them in the hands of people with questionable motives, turns me off. Parenting has always been difficult, just imagine raising kids a few hundred years ago when you had to slave-away for them only to watch them die or be killed in war. The world is never perfect, but I think liking them and seeing them sometimes is probably a good idea. My hats-off to people who take on the challenge.<br />
<br />
I digress, but yeah, I am a freedom-loving kinda guy, perhaps more so than anyone else I know. This is why I am drawn to self-sufficient traveling, being in nature, and particularly mountains, as mountains ooze freedom out of every crevice.<br />
<br />
So with this split between a world-wandering, anti-money, childless hippie and a free market, low-regulation, self-reliant (not a fan of welfare), conservative-minded free-speech absolutist, I feel like I can dip a toe into both the right and the left of politics and have a fairly balanced view of the world, which it doesn't seem is reigning supreme in world affairs right now. I can't help but notice that it is all going a bit crazy.<br />
<br />
But back to the trip. Ever since I had made it to Cromwell, the weather conditions had become more unreliable, with high winds, rain, and cold regularly putting in an appearance between some short spells of good weather. During my stay on the Otago Peninsula, all 4 seasons were certainly evident and this made for an awkward stay.<br />
<br />
I like campsites for working; they are cheap and there is usually somewhere you can hide away to do some online teaching. However, the wind was raging and the rain came down heavily at times, so this meant working outside or in the tent was off the table. The campsite was also quite busy, so I had to rush from place to place to find some privacy, making for a stressful weekend of work. I hadn't experienced this at any other time in New Zealand, which on the whole has been very stress-free when it comes to work.<br />
<br />
Looking ahead at the weather, it appeared that I had a weather window of 3 days before the heavens would open big time on me. This combined with the remote area I was going encouraged me to try and make the 315Km or so I needed to get to the next major settlement, Invercargill, in the 3 day period.<br />
<br />
I knew this would be difficult, but at just over 100Km a day, I thought I had it well-covered. I wasn't, however, banking on the harshness of the roads or the weather conditions.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3spCkE0LyoT4ZLbnVZgYpvZw_5L8FOf1rwY3v1azsem63uMIC1o_2WvpAVCqZH_L20OA62CCpO0BBP8tZ5jGQYWloNABCCWQWbjrNO1n-r_tT0ULHiXOZssMo9gGBlXI3uZNYTDhursM/s1600/Nugget+point+LH+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3spCkE0LyoT4ZLbnVZgYpvZw_5L8FOf1rwY3v1azsem63uMIC1o_2WvpAVCqZH_L20OA62CCpO0BBP8tZ5jGQYWloNABCCWQWbjrNO1n-r_tT0ULHiXOZssMo9gGBlXI3uZNYTDhursM/s400/Nugget+point+LH+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I left the Otago Peninsula with the intention of getting-up high so I could get the perspective over the top of the peninsula. Trouble was that this was a 400+m climb up an extraordinarily steep road. It was well-worth it as the views were spectacular, but it did some early damage to my legs and energy reserves. What followed were a series of 100-200m climbs through to the outskirts of Dunedin to eventually hit a flat coastal road and a serious headwind. This was going to be one of those days.<br />
<br />
Each climb was brutal in severity, causing me to get off and push the bike on various occasions. I can now say with certainty that Dunedin is the steepest area I have ever cycled; I have never had to jump off my bike and push with such frequency.<br />
<br />
After the headwinds on the flat coastal road, I had another 400+m climb, again of ridiculous gradient to join the main road towards an area of New Zealand known as The Catlins. My joy at making it over yet another nasty ascent was short-lived as the headwind was even stronger on the flat 40Km to a town called Balclutha, where I would spend the night. At only 103Km, it wasn't the furthest I had ever cycled by a long-shot, but it will be remembered as one of the hardest days in the saddle ever.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt8eWDCGDxyrHrNgqmZZegjLE986quBOae_5ZAnA7gNRKGXurx-kYen8LVzbWlOeU2zFjqV6Bq69yME6dNT_y4pYauImvUNQ21hcHUPzkm5o6UHSDr13ap4E332meGgUDWEoXAv0A-0wU/s1600/Florence+Bay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt8eWDCGDxyrHrNgqmZZegjLE986quBOae_5ZAnA7gNRKGXurx-kYen8LVzbWlOeU2zFjqV6Bq69yME6dNT_y4pYauImvUNQ21hcHUPzkm5o6UHSDr13ap4E332meGgUDWEoXAv0A-0wU/s400/Florence+Bay.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Florence Bay in the Catlins.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This was then followed by two more ridiculous days cycling. The next day I strived to make it to Curio Bay, another very hilly 127Km away with a view to getting up early to see the penguins, but I had no luck and didn't see any, although there was a nice coastal view. The next day I only had about 80Km to do, but I was incredibly tired from the previous two days and I had a strong headwind to contend with. I considered stopping early because the wind was killing me, but then saw the weather for the following day was just a deluge of heavy rain, so I had no real choice but to get to Invercargill and duck inside a hostel for the day and head for cover. I remember sitting in a little cafe in a state of despair looking at the weather and knowing I had not choice but to flog an already tired body for several hours into the wind. I guess it is my equivalent of waking up on Monday morning and realising I have a week of mind-numbing and stressful work ahead of me.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiykHUQO8QgQmd-18wxrNeZ4yRKDCi5YiUpoJFrpajj6A6Zk1Rf6kk22FWbo-XUq9ZMGd7AWZEm8O6i3SSN7DQtAwKJY7lgItTFCh_JPswWIZhTQjNeTy7IxdOfJJNwE4r1JjfHws3WW3Q/s1600/Curio+Bay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiykHUQO8QgQmd-18wxrNeZ4yRKDCi5YiUpoJFrpajj6A6Zk1Rf6kk22FWbo-XUq9ZMGd7AWZEm8O6i3SSN7DQtAwKJY7lgItTFCh_JPswWIZhTQjNeTy7IxdOfJJNwE4r1JjfHws3WW3Q/s400/Curio+Bay.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
After a whole day of doing nothing except having a haircut and a shave (the first of both in New Zealand), I felt great (and guilty) the next morning so did a 10K run and went to a local gym to do some weight training (also for the first time since being in New Zealand). Then in the afternoon I cycled 40Km to Riverton. The following morning I then did 14K of trail running.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6WMJKtDpTsdqkOQxcsnebhzdAXRzcoPum5fLlTk5Pg57DL-J3hwfKY00ZWeXTvkfo0vUPHYWr-Vyk33U0aypL0vLsf_k5EJa646H1oNtNUH-PsqRxOL641i7fm5J-GiAwYeyPYgWL1CQ/s1600/Riverton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6WMJKtDpTsdqkOQxcsnebhzdAXRzcoPum5fLlTk5Pg57DL-J3hwfKY00ZWeXTvkfo0vUPHYWr-Vyk33U0aypL0vLsf_k5EJa646H1oNtNUH-PsqRxOL641i7fm5J-GiAwYeyPYgWL1CQ/s400/Riverton.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I think all of this combined with the previous few days of hard cycling blew me out quite a bit. All of a sudden I was waking up tired, which is something I rarely do, even though I was sleeping absolutely fine.<br />
<br />
I was actually very fortunate to be offered a night's stay on a dairy farm in a very swanky little separate building by the chap who was in charge of the local squash club, who I had contacted looking for a game. This was very handy as it was a perfect place to sit down and work for the day.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpLvYHmv5jlgPLUQQZKDBKBMDdNmNAsJ4OBB1XTf51N4oUeVtg1V2GO0U1JTgbFCB61kkk5PgOy5-xfw6LjeLl4S00KqzQJ1SUYOrFI04l77XJ5k4QWcU0TXlyppzWa5wPxuzOQ-E9zuQ/s1600/Dairy+farm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="851" data-original-width="1512" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpLvYHmv5jlgPLUQQZKDBKBMDdNmNAsJ4OBB1XTf51N4oUeVtg1V2GO0U1JTgbFCB61kkk5PgOy5-xfw6LjeLl4S00KqzQJ1SUYOrFI04l77XJ5k4QWcU0TXlyppzWa5wPxuzOQ-E9zuQ/s400/Dairy+farm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My room at the dairy farm.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Rarely do I feel lazy when compared to others, Andy and his wife really worked hard. Up at 3.30am and working most of the day. They only stopped for lunch and dinner and to watch the All Blacks narrowly scrape by England in the rugby.<br />
<br />
I left the dairy farm the next morning a little later than usual as I only had about 70Km to do to get to a free campsite, so you'd think I'd be feeling pretty good after a sound night's sleep. I wasn't at all though; despite having a slight tailwind for most of the day, I just felt exhausted. All the past week's efforts had caught up with me.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip0wTXBB3xsHYLR964mlzHHPpTh9jSrorJohFGVQCK6bmGGk0Love4P7ys7YALZZsfyvRpYE466jrp8i2nyxJn-aYpeWxAxYZKWrgWbZk-S7jzMqqMbedyhA7aECIzktqnjTFTS9ugsyA/s1600/Gemstone+beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip0wTXBB3xsHYLR964mlzHHPpTh9jSrorJohFGVQCK6bmGGk0Love4P7ys7YALZZsfyvRpYE466jrp8i2nyxJn-aYpeWxAxYZKWrgWbZk-S7jzMqqMbedyhA7aECIzktqnjTFTS9ugsyA/s400/Gemstone+beach.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gemstone beach, so named because it washes-up an array of smooth coloured stones for some reason.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I got to the very picturesque camping area at about 4pm and then settled-down in the tent and listened to a podcast at about 5pm and very quickly fell asleep, even with the sun shinning bright outside. I then woke up at 7pm, brushed my teeth and then went straight back to sleep, finally waking-up at 5.30pm the next morning, basically a whopping 12 hours sleep. I clearly needed a rest.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwOrHE4J1CJ9GEZprUqJQKRAVPYn7VR5b94CXhJMiOyM2XUf9JzqmTFxZz-avmeL3XQkS-eS44R-1HsW9NidMyFWc2wRpRGQJTUJkiigrCYXe3Kio5vuWilrc9efEEdGzpFU5UqDI0w3o/s1600/clifden+bridge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwOrHE4J1CJ9GEZprUqJQKRAVPYn7VR5b94CXhJMiOyM2XUf9JzqmTFxZz-avmeL3XQkS-eS44R-1HsW9NidMyFWc2wRpRGQJTUJkiigrCYXe3Kio5vuWilrc9efEEdGzpFU5UqDI0w3o/s400/clifden+bridge.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A great campsite all to myself right next to the Clifden suspension bridge.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I felt much better the following morning and had quite a comfortable day's ride into Te Anau with clear skies above. I had spent some time in Te Anau a couple of years before waiting for weather to clear for two major trips, one into Milford Sound and the other to Doubtful Sound in a kayak. This time I had only one trip planned, a dive to the depths of Milford Sound. It was to be a predictably beautiful and eventful couple of days.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8wr5zbDvVX9QsgwJcsDKikRUhiiK0Rz-OoB2_65VxWpKOobkrXGweMgnY0fYj-hXJhwHPaAnMaIHgL8M1nebhM_JpHt1iXiqftqLVsRGxo2Gj-IlWhAPi9_a8YUZRyMg9bF1r4R8FVLE/s1600/Manapouri.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8wr5zbDvVX9QsgwJcsDKikRUhiiK0Rz-OoB2_65VxWpKOobkrXGweMgnY0fYj-hXJhwHPaAnMaIHgL8M1nebhM_JpHt1iXiqftqLVsRGxo2Gj-IlWhAPi9_a8YUZRyMg9bF1r4R8FVLE/s400/Manapouri.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A nice spot for lunch in Manapouri, about 20Km south of Te Anau.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-56792930227687635052018-11-02T10:55:00.000-07:002018-11-02T11:09:51.573-07:00Christchurch (Sheffield) to Dunedin<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyg81zjJBc4H5Lq951A-owxJoI95PPtBSC4j-Eulm9iqkkW4PcwI6aebhoF9YGw3yZvsFkJKGcsByCrlzfcvk08_-DmRLSoo8-5oeLV-_eSMVN-_t27Nkd5Gx9aP1DhtUUdDefrsLtAYc/s1600/Lake+Pukaki.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyg81zjJBc4H5Lq951A-owxJoI95PPtBSC4j-Eulm9iqkkW4PcwI6aebhoF9YGw3yZvsFkJKGcsByCrlzfcvk08_-DmRLSoo8-5oeLV-_eSMVN-_t27Nkd5Gx9aP1DhtUUdDefrsLtAYc/s400/Lake+Pukaki.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I was pretty tired from 4 days of pretty intense cycling and hiking, so settled-down in a campsite to work and relax for a few days. It was a really nice campsite and the owners provided bicycle tourers with a nice big, fluffy towel - as they reasoned we wouldn't be carrying one, and they'd be right - which was a nice touch.<br />
<br />
Ever since the start of my tour a couple of months ago, I have been aware of another bicycle tourer named Anthony Marra, who started at roughly the same time. If you have read any of my previous blog posts, you'll know that on every tour I do there is someone that upstages me, that crazy person who is on just another level. Just when I think I am doing something pretty adventurous, there is always someone who tops me, and then some.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiapRpWZv9PL_oURjs_y0SE94wH7_u2FdcS7U6blcGLdbMaWivOq1uDTdfr5ySTB1em_qNLeiLXjSpXqdGmFHJE3ho4QAQprM-toUIgvMSQKX5k4LuJSjWWWRbxUA1O7gS4az1z7Aq1N40/s1600/Run+in+Fairlie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="503" data-original-width="960" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiapRpWZv9PL_oURjs_y0SE94wH7_u2FdcS7U6blcGLdbMaWivOq1uDTdfr5ySTB1em_qNLeiLXjSpXqdGmFHJE3ho4QAQprM-toUIgvMSQKX5k4LuJSjWWWRbxUA1O7gS4az1z7Aq1N40/s400/Run+in+Fairlie.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">During a 10K run in Fairlie with the backdrop of the Southern Alps.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
On my first tour in Australia there was a guy pushing a 150Kg homemade cart from Cape York to Cape Leuwin (diagonally across Australia from the most north-east point to the most south-west). On my second big tour of Australia I met a man who had cycled the full circuit of Australia 4 times in his seventies! 4 times! I still can't believe it. This time in New Zealand, this American chap named Anthony was cycling all round New Zealand, like me but also carrying his surfboard and skis on a trailer. He'd find a mountain, bushwhack up it and then ski down, and also surf occasionally. And I thought I was good carrying a couple of squash rackets and doing some scuba dives.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhseNPeO3MpBUjpBQhqz9DGTWerLwBcETIl1qrDN5Md0YwkOa8iSvVoHQOIqIm4RkBWoNBQpwqs7vMLoz0LRM0GAu91mEybqVBiCLMNAy2o8Yk9C5XKWknP5bUNa18FpkDnDd463OEE1es/s1600/Sheffield+to+Dunedin+route.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="521" data-original-width="543" height="381" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhseNPeO3MpBUjpBQhqz9DGTWerLwBcETIl1qrDN5Md0YwkOa8iSvVoHQOIqIm4RkBWoNBQpwqs7vMLoz0LRM0GAu91mEybqVBiCLMNAy2o8Yk9C5XKWknP5bUNa18FpkDnDd463OEE1es/s400/Sheffield+to+Dunedin+route.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSObe1e3dJQQtwS4_UG-PLY4xTwgSNXrEkgdFkpS0pKoECfNRfx_BBksbp9QN-GioPf1Cwui74D_2jkbLdFn8YwsFwDXM0dUtkXkzBHgDL1pkjgv0odkA4Fg2M9cB0hv3FM-tgSDLzeBw/s1600/Sheffield+to+Dunedin+Profile.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="122" data-original-width="385" height="126" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSObe1e3dJQQtwS4_UG-PLY4xTwgSNXrEkgdFkpS0pKoECfNRfx_BBksbp9QN-GioPf1Cwui74D_2jkbLdFn8YwsFwDXM0dUtkXkzBHgDL1pkjgv0odkA4Fg2M9cB0hv3FM-tgSDLzeBw/s400/Sheffield+to+Dunedin+Profile.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
So I had been following his progress, mainly on Instagram. He had gone ahead of me through the North Island, especially at the start, but because he stopped for days to climb a few mountains and ski down them in the South, I caught-up with him and had a feeling we might bump into each other. We did so at Fairlie Holiday Park.<br />
<br />
He was an interesting guy and was on some sort of adventure scholarship for the trip. He asked me if I was a mormon because of my name, apparently there are a lot of mormons with the name, "Chris Smith", I just replied saying that I think there are a lot of Chris Smiths period, but not many mormons from outside the US. I assumed he was one, not least because every mormon I have ever met has been super-nice, and also somewhat without wit and sarcasm, as a few of my little quips seemed to miss the mark, but he was extremely polite. Anyway, it was good to finally meet him, and boy has he done some crazy stuff on this trip.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMbKl3fZUVzOmrfABBd14EXS9_cde3L2N5-kUxG78-zlzbzahyphenhyphenVP6Az4DrhZ1UgVBqe19wkuIGktEInd2xrX4hIYNvyh1l4wtatR03Q1lvY9t7I8TuHq27olo6AAwp48fvcB1lmUkwe0s/s1600/Sunny+Lake+Tekapo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMbKl3fZUVzOmrfABBd14EXS9_cde3L2N5-kUxG78-zlzbzahyphenhyphenVP6Az4DrhZ1UgVBqe19wkuIGktEInd2xrX4hIYNvyh1l4wtatR03Q1lvY9t7I8TuHq27olo6AAwp48fvcB1lmUkwe0s/s400/Sunny+Lake+Tekapo.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
From Fairlie, I had planned to meet up with my friend Peter from England, who I had met while teaching in South Korea some years ago. We had also caught-up in Wales last year when I was on a short tour while visiting home.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ozMC7vfZnOnwo6AAiQfdlCqURYOgCBxPowjxv5lq8BUjTaym33-4qtg9RMvOLzeeoS5F50TMaxe4YM5R5T6azgUhjtqWEcR0dSucRXh3FUHn1ckaalTLPvnD6eXdfkoOGxRtFQa1DI8/s1600/Pete+hiking+Lake+Tekapo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ozMC7vfZnOnwo6AAiQfdlCqURYOgCBxPowjxv5lq8BUjTaym33-4qtg9RMvOLzeeoS5F50TMaxe4YM5R5T6azgUhjtqWEcR0dSucRXh3FUHn1ckaalTLPvnD6eXdfkoOGxRtFQa1DI8/s400/Pete+hiking+Lake+Tekapo.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pete hiking towards the observatory in Tekapo.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
If you look at my "About" page, you'll see that Peter was one of my main inspirations for doing bicycle touring in the first place. He had ridden from Korea to England over 9 months with a friend of his. I think he was only 22, perhaps 23 at the time, slightly fresh-faced and I suppose came across as fairly shy, although I don't think he is. I like Peter, similar to me, he has a bit of a baby face and almost seems too nice, but in actual fact is as hardy as they come and is not afraid to bite back if he needs to. I used to run with him a couple of times a week and the boy can certainly take some physical punishment, so I always feel pretty comfortable that he'll handle any potentially long and arduous hikes I have planned with ease.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcM4sEmQ-scZfWyk2__Aa3J-mtmC7MoLd2FU_sh-ScAtYMJurSoqEgQTvDrMAB1pJlnNTtHP-D19o-a6GkmKGLTEJ9wxA5lrykkNN05GRmFIBdo1Vtj98MIx2OEZTbaGei9C4n3TbPazs/s1600/Pete+lake+Alexandrina.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcM4sEmQ-scZfWyk2__Aa3J-mtmC7MoLd2FU_sh-ScAtYMJurSoqEgQTvDrMAB1pJlnNTtHP-D19o-a6GkmKGLTEJ9wxA5lrykkNN05GRmFIBdo1Vtj98MIx2OEZTbaGei9C4n3TbPazs/s400/Pete+lake+Alexandrina.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
It worked-out that meeting in Tekapo as he was heading north and I was heading south was the best idea. Tekapo is a beautiful place, but it is a little short on walks and slightly over-run with tourists, but I ended-up formulating a good plan to take us to a nice cheap camping area, whilst at the same time getting us away from the hubbub of the main tourist centre of the town.<br />
<br />
Firstly though, I had to get my bike fixed. I had been running on the bottom set of gears for about 300-400Km after a snapped cable to my front deraileur and it needed fixing. I didn't have the part, so I called around in Fairlie and I was put in touch with a lady running a bicycle hire business in Tekapo. She very kindly arranged to get the cable needed for me and offered to fit it for me.<br />
<br />
This lady was an absolute star. Turns-out she had only just started the business and had only very recently taken a bicycle maintenance course, so was glad of the practice of fixing my bike. When I offered to pay, she actually said not to worry about it, but I insisted to at least pay for the part and gave her an extra $15 on top of that. She seemed almost guilty to take my money, so made me a cup of tea and a sandwich with a piece of banana bread and a cereal bar. She also let us leave our stuff in her garage while we went off for our hike and overnight camp, as Pete met me at her place. She was an absolute saint.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaW-sKdhJsSzYGdmwbYj3SC6fUDhpv6WdVjwX0SDRc2dZSuSHkzunGw3tSX6M3k2uois1iZ20OGXJAGoV0OTmZeyrwn49343yDKYL_rUiag4nQKa5-reoV94bq331W0Zw6ZTVjsU0r0ok/s1600/Lake+Alexandrina+Reflections.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaW-sKdhJsSzYGdmwbYj3SC6fUDhpv6WdVjwX0SDRc2dZSuSHkzunGw3tSX6M3k2uois1iZ20OGXJAGoV0OTmZeyrwn49343yDKYL_rUiag4nQKa5-reoV94bq331W0Zw6ZTVjsU0r0ok/s400/Lake+Alexandrina+Reflections.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pete was a good model.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I planned to hike up to the observatory in Tekapo and then head-out another 12Km or so to Lake Alexandrina, a nearby lake recommended by a lady I met in a shop for being tourist-free and very scenic. It was a good walk out there and back via a different route, and was good to catch-up with Pete on his travels again. Maybe next time we'll meet up in Australia, as apparently he'll be over there next year.<br />
<br />
After saying farewell to Pete, I made my way to Lake Pukaki, Omarama for an overnight free camp, then to Cromwell via the Lindis Pass, bypassing Mount Cook this time (I had been there before on my last trip here) with a view to going there by car with Eunji when she comes over.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfWr2GQxrtPoCh7X2c8Zd3bWb-U3QKLbD2GnHPmkDh-sESFGBOQs9zWoiztwPv7kAnyPhT5h4Z4Xntvzep9kLLTCNp0aH7i-ADLniZwbgSpZtlzOsKpf6qzZ8muxf-X6QhwueikXYxQd4/s1600/Bike+lindis+pass.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfWr2GQxrtPoCh7X2c8Zd3bWb-U3QKLbD2GnHPmkDh-sESFGBOQs9zWoiztwPv7kAnyPhT5h4Z4Xntvzep9kLLTCNp0aH7i-ADLniZwbgSpZtlzOsKpf6qzZ8muxf-X6QhwueikXYxQd4/s400/Bike+lindis+pass.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
It was a beautiful cycle and I managed to squeeze it all in perfectly before forecasted bad weather came in. On my previous trip I didn't get much of a view of Mount Cook at Lake Pukaki or it's famed blue waters because of low cloud, this time, however, it was really pretty. I also never climbed the Lindis Pass because I got a lift with my friend Alex overnight, so it was good to experience riding on that particular beautiful section of road as well.<br />
<br />
As I made it to the top of the Lindis Pass, there were a number of people looking on in admiration and taking pictures of me. It was quite a climb, but pretty steady and not too difficult, and I had a lot harder sections of road already cycled and also to come.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdA22u8fq-0uphWmpBOHx3PCsTdRoiN6XfDCWkT6g1LABYXKE2wnlN73YVznqLbcFTPsX29r8pkRlzjjYQPhk8YTBfzhqP8bVsI5n_MeZ5cri-6M5o0GUjXbQNgKb94lRvdZRJVBmp8do/s1600/Lindis+Pass+road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdA22u8fq-0uphWmpBOHx3PCsTdRoiN6XfDCWkT6g1LABYXKE2wnlN73YVznqLbcFTPsX29r8pkRlzjjYQPhk8YTBfzhqP8bVsI5n_MeZ5cri-6M5o0GUjXbQNgKb94lRvdZRJVBmp8do/s400/Lindis+Pass+road.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
I made it to Cromwell in good time with a fairly strong tailwind. I had flown through New Zealand since Gisborne, way up in the North Island because of such good weather, but now I faced about a week of less than perfect weather going into Dunedin.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV3o-J5GcuhGbooajeAIDXv1UiBnJkNnM_sNRQeuTMGWTDUb2TheBqn9nZduCdLt_NgW_GerYUR4w0hpz4UGCSI2bRCJXtdAVGhCMVWtF4sl8olo9SVZ6cEjORtHxlzFs2nLTfQZ3pJtk/s1600/Trail+run+at+Cromwell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV3o-J5GcuhGbooajeAIDXv1UiBnJkNnM_sNRQeuTMGWTDUb2TheBqn9nZduCdLt_NgW_GerYUR4w0hpz4UGCSI2bRCJXtdAVGhCMVWtF4sl8olo9SVZ6cEjORtHxlzFs2nLTfQZ3pJtk/s400/Trail+run+at+Cromwell.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The scene from the top of a good little trail run in Cromwell.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I had to stop in Cromwell for a few days, and then Alexandra - only 30Km away - for a couple more. I took the opportunity to play some squash, which I hadn't even thought of doing for the last month and a half, so busy I was taking advantage of the good weather. I got a couple of good games in with reasonable standard players in Cromwell and Alexandra, which I sorely needed, but was incredibly stiff after the first one. Cycling doesn't really prepare you very well for the demands of a hard game of squash.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqnIikzau4Gj6L343lMr1Ft6toqV2iJ8qVLNFTEF1SXrBd35opjuqUCTRZI2UH2yCd6GLQHUC4WUY3cGxxaxq-YIoa5y2pGu4umIGC43d0UQ_dOEhJhuhxdPTxlBBkYM3OYuk5jX2kBIk/s1600/Me+Otago+CRT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqnIikzau4Gj6L343lMr1Ft6toqV2iJ8qVLNFTEF1SXrBd35opjuqUCTRZI2UH2yCd6GLQHUC4WUY3cGxxaxq-YIoa5y2pGu4umIGC43d0UQ_dOEhJhuhxdPTxlBBkYM3OYuk5jX2kBIk/s400/Me+Otago+CRT.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I eventually got myself onto the Otago Central Rail Trail, a scenic gravel trail through the mountains, and it was certainly very picturesque, even in slightly cloudy weather on the first day and windy, rainy conditions on the second. I met almost no other cyclists on it, except for at one bridge when, a bit like London buses, several showed-up all at once.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvlr376UqxL6kq_t_ZAmt0URBfb0A8FIXtthP_-S18HSSDN1jZRCs93grC3fQ3ppRQq4mmBcgcwvwYXRCXP1dz6nGi4FRGLr-_5ihyQDU0rYfGajqk-GP9sXSKv7maJ-VU9yjmSGuEuAI/s1600/Tunnel+CRT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvlr376UqxL6kq_t_ZAmt0URBfb0A8FIXtthP_-S18HSSDN1jZRCs93grC3fQ3ppRQq4mmBcgcwvwYXRCXP1dz6nGi4FRGLr-_5ihyQDU0rYfGajqk-GP9sXSKv7maJ-VU9yjmSGuEuAI/s400/Tunnel+CRT.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the tunnels on the Otago Central Rail Trail.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The second day on the trail was a real trial. The wind was strong and in my face and it rained steadily, which not only made me wet, but made the trail difficult to cycle on. I then had a really heavy downpour about 500 metres from the town of Middlemarch at the end of the trail. I was desperate to get undercover, but couldn't find anywhere. Eventually a nice chap let me sit inside his shop for a bit and I contemplated my next move.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTaG34XIrYSbeDdo8qNUp3lbelhv4S13kMkVHGsUWtJz_8dYcsSkQjmdXnnURSemQ1VNNstQcalxu3EAQor8mu3a34mwpCAksPLI24Z3FyiJcaUiYK8wrvRccBEl5-j3k-1sh8t4QmApI/s1600/Tunnel+and+gorge+CRT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTaG34XIrYSbeDdo8qNUp3lbelhv4S13kMkVHGsUWtJz_8dYcsSkQjmdXnnURSemQ1VNNstQcalxu3EAQor8mu3a34mwpCAksPLI24Z3FyiJcaUiYK8wrvRccBEl5-j3k-1sh8t4QmApI/s400/Tunnel+and+gorge+CRT.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
By this time, heavy showers were rolling in regularly and the wind was gusty and quite fierce. I thought I'd cycle to the next "town" and see how I felt, as it looked like it had a campsite and was only 7Km away. As it turned-out, there wasn't a campsite and the weather was terrible. Wild camping seemed impossible in the strong wind and rain.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhddbyVeeLSOHX-Lz7qd3CVSVxF-o93UTShB2jOU5PExj4H012fVGfSY8I_f1B-RTAk4_hp76KMpw8sK3xkw2xLCMBuYBp9-PMfVHiBI1IOly9FBH7w1v66jSYtV7wBXWlRmyIPqIrnJno/s1600/Gorge+CRT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhddbyVeeLSOHX-Lz7qd3CVSVxF-o93UTShB2jOU5PExj4H012fVGfSY8I_f1B-RTAk4_hp76KMpw8sK3xkw2xLCMBuYBp9-PMfVHiBI1IOly9FBH7w1v66jSYtV7wBXWlRmyIPqIrnJno/s400/Gorge+CRT.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I didn't really know what to do, and to add to my frustration there was a youth camp complex right in the village with no one running it. There were beds, a kitchen, and comfortable sofas that I could see through the window, but I couldn't access it.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp0s27RYAlyb3q8vw5xxsJq672EZLGbs5xnbA1Rah_vSgIhDVx-X5L9yIpwc7QAXhu51UqWY6HvalA_jXC9icWj2N_gaYdFV_uIzmeW49gDoM0jjiUrpVJ1a9lwzhyJgSe0FwVUnp19iw/s1600/Sutton+station.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp0s27RYAlyb3q8vw5xxsJq672EZLGbs5xnbA1Rah_vSgIhDVx-X5L9yIpwc7QAXhu51UqWY6HvalA_jXC9icWj2N_gaYdFV_uIzmeW49gDoM0jjiUrpVJ1a9lwzhyJgSe0FwVUnp19iw/s400/Sutton+station.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My home for the night. It was perfect; dry, sheltered from the wind, and free!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After a bit more head-scratching I luckily stumbled across an old, abandoned railway station. Very small, but open, just big enough for me to lay inside and completely sheltered from the wind and rain, and of course, totally free. I was very happy to spend the night there and was wonderfully protected from the terrible weather outside.<br />
<br />
I woke in the morning to a temperature of minus 2 degrees Celsius. Despite all the cloud and rain during the day, it was a very clear night, causing the low temperatures. It was pretty uncomfortable to get everything ready and get started, but I soon warmed-up as I got stuck into some of the toughest cycling of the trip, up and down some crazily steep hills on the way into Dunedin.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgklVqT2nu9d784QPdtqMuu9FKLfgg43T51z48MZ6neyGF-xyfUQosvNwJwBGnUNd-QXjA5s22k7oXg_drDiFlug6JPjRowRMGLQVrovyVdNf5fOB5owQ-77nVgp17p_oET6SWaya7aOIY/s1600/Long+steep+climbs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgklVqT2nu9d784QPdtqMuu9FKLfgg43T51z48MZ6neyGF-xyfUQosvNwJwBGnUNd-QXjA5s22k7oXg_drDiFlug6JPjRowRMGLQVrovyVdNf5fOB5owQ-77nVgp17p_oET6SWaya7aOIY/s400/Long+steep+climbs.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Again, the pictures never quite show just how steep the roads are.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This part of New Zealand really reminds me of Scotland, the landscape is kind of wild, barren and hilly, and the weather has been wet and cold so far. Perhaps it sounds like I don't like this, and part of me doesn't, but I also quite enjoy the harshness of Scotland and this part of New Zealand.<br />
<br />
The similarities don't just lie in the landscape. There is a history of Scottish immigration to New Zealand, and especially in the South Island regions of Otago and the Southland. Dunedin, for example, actually comes from the Scottish Gaelic name for Edinburgh. Other Scottish names in the region include, Invercargill, Balclutha, and Oban.<br />
<br />
Back to the cycling, and just when I thought I come through the worst of the hills, I had one last slog up, "Three mile hill", into Dunedin, of about 450m. Not the highest climb, but certainly the hardest climb of the trip outside of the last few kilometres up to Arthurs Pass. It was just consistently steep, with no respite the entire way.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgql7UgdeBmSBVFeENmAYtBxNbSVwjfhd2xiI8gvSx3wWyQWItj9PiIoTPri_see4TfDujJUELLCmuNC7_YwmHUQWNNn8QnSDnHTEnZzY6OCyZX4glp6gK5mQlMm9j0qN6Qpb2FX0NwHjs/s1600/Top+of+three+mile+hill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgql7UgdeBmSBVFeENmAYtBxNbSVwjfhd2xiI8gvSx3wWyQWItj9PiIoTPri_see4TfDujJUELLCmuNC7_YwmHUQWNNn8QnSDnHTEnZzY6OCyZX4glp6gK5mQlMm9j0qN6Qpb2FX0NwHjs/s400/Top+of+three+mile+hill.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Coming into Dunedin it was clear that this is not a great place for fully-loaded bicycle tourers. Not that it isn't a pretty city, because the landscape and the architecture are really nice, but the hills are crazy. I have been to some hilly places, but this place really takes the biscuit. I settled-down into a hostel and just rested for the afternoon and evening and much of the next day, although to get to my warmshowers host I had to get myself up one almighty steep, long hill again. In fact, everywhere I went I had to do this; up and down, and I have to admit, it was a little bit stressful, even for someone who enjoys a bit of physical hardship, like me.<br />
<br />
I had a few plans for things to do in Dunedin, but more on that in the next blog and my journey into the far South and the Catlins, the next leg of the trip.Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-17802149959140961282018-10-27T21:40:00.000-07:002018-10-27T21:40:00.143-07:00Arthurs Pass and The Great Alpine Highway<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSNQ9nqHYugnfDKYH43ho31CzJY4ExUuK74qQU1XZgwrEjyTcvWaVrgACQelNb7RmyL_iCtbSgyCyOi_25MhAGJYF07NXbljiOiURAcP1pITS7DZ5qNEbMSI4dmmHmbOz3MZmrcmBe0jA/s1600/me+arthurs+pass.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSNQ9nqHYugnfDKYH43ho31CzJY4ExUuK74qQU1XZgwrEjyTcvWaVrgACQelNb7RmyL_iCtbSgyCyOi_25MhAGJYF07NXbljiOiURAcP1pITS7DZ5qNEbMSI4dmmHmbOz3MZmrcmBe0jA/s400/me+arthurs+pass.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I thought that this section deserved a blog post all of its own, as it was quite an epic cycle across the middle of the South Island. It had it all; amazing scenery, some of the hardest uphill sections I have ever cycled, great hiking, and good weather. Not too much musing on life in this post, but lots of pretty pictures.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguyC3O-MgsMX9ng4G-uo2L9zSO95ejewxW3jdz4ZUUQ0cipHBhISFXpwXfK2umnVQ9JE7sPadSS-NAKXjfgBbN_XgOxqvYkeQGtSAeM54h0oL_RDHelCV7op4aAJ53KXGxCHrwHnWlMzs/s1600/The+great+alpine+highway.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="385" data-original-width="445" height="343" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguyC3O-MgsMX9ng4G-uo2L9zSO95ejewxW3jdz4ZUUQ0cipHBhISFXpwXfK2umnVQ9JE7sPadSS-NAKXjfgBbN_XgOxqvYkeQGtSAeM54h0oL_RDHelCV7op4aAJ53KXGxCHrwHnWlMzs/s400/The+great+alpine+highway.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS_OsAN50rdIPPKURd8eRD_nq7N1sSOXPuoUbhV2lEfvRgQAwYMgCqXUW3u-2h_mOiA0S2ugMbUqf9592wS_4-QBOy9OdMJ-rkIsBPMS5H5Sq9zDxakrLwt8oMLsm-Is_QMwF5oc9h6xQ/s1600/Great+alpine+highway+profile.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="119" data-original-width="386" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS_OsAN50rdIPPKURd8eRD_nq7N1sSOXPuoUbhV2lEfvRgQAwYMgCqXUW3u-2h_mOiA0S2ugMbUqf9592wS_4-QBOy9OdMJ-rkIsBPMS5H5Sq9zDxakrLwt8oMLsm-Is_QMwF5oc9h6xQ/s400/Great+alpine+highway+profile.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Sometimes, when you are on a long bicycle tour, you can forget that a part of the tour over a few days can actually be the equivalent to something some people train for over several months and make the trip of a lifetime. In fact, I can remember someone asking me once in San Francisco about my bike tour while I was there and they commented that this must be a once in a lifetime kind of trip. I just replied with, "No, not really, I do this stuff pretty often". Over the past couple of years, I have done a once in a lifetime trip at least a few times a year. Make no mistake, the trip up to Arthurs Pass on a fully-loaded touring bike is not for the faint-hearted, but it is a spectacular, special journey.</div>
<br />
It starts with a very steady climb after a short cycle down the West coast from Greymouth. It was quite grey when I set-off and as I was approaching the mountains, they seemed draped in quite a lot of cloud, which wasn't encouraging. There were still nice views, but usually when it starts off cloudy upon entering the mountains, it just gets worse.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisXl9sn8BLAi9dgjNnTvkcn4EWOyB2yUp8Nh_crr9ewEEkcWhZsQXWf5-XO9T-GRNB8vKLpk_Dn_uYVIk_j3OXtPYqbegJVOeFbb-9fmZWGt1IyNNfsHskvPTtyfuJS_fI9LcjUZyYhP0/s1600/Spring+in+the+mountains.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisXl9sn8BLAi9dgjNnTvkcn4EWOyB2yUp8Nh_crr9ewEEkcWhZsQXWf5-XO9T-GRNB8vKLpk_Dn_uYVIk_j3OXtPYqbegJVOeFbb-9fmZWGt1IyNNfsHskvPTtyfuJS_fI9LcjUZyYhP0/s400/Spring+in+the+mountains.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flowers in bloom and the clouds clearing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Fortunately for me, however, the weather was on the improve all day, and by the time I found myself in the really nice areas with great views, the clouds were clearing. Climbing up the Great Alpine Road didn't seem that difficult at first, just a long, slow, steady climb, but things became dramatically steep a few kilometres from the top of the pass.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQpbglvzlsRCivsW9VOD_QuqjCG257mMf-C7TUjZuOFf6vUiHJvtj8aaD7mew5Thne61ce8KpXB2FKUZdufLSpFcyXvqa3FOWTY6E3kjJWkRq0u6rlisPzZn_WMc2PZfTkbnpPaebDX3E/s1600/Steep+road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQpbglvzlsRCivsW9VOD_QuqjCG257mMf-C7TUjZuOFf6vUiHJvtj8aaD7mew5Thne61ce8KpXB2FKUZdufLSpFcyXvqa3FOWTY6E3kjJWkRq0u6rlisPzZn_WMc2PZfTkbnpPaebDX3E/s400/Steep+road.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It never looks steep in pictures, but let me assure you that it was pretty crazy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The gradient went from a fairly comfortable jaunt, to an absolute gut-wrenching 16%. This really was at the limits of what I could cycle, especially as I was weighed-down by quite a bit of food. Even cars were finding it hard-going, very slowly passing me with engines struggling.<br />
<br />
I had to stop on a few occasions; the first kilometre of that incline blew me out so badly that my legs and lungs just didn't want to function after that. I had to push for a bit to get the bike up to the first lookout. Even pushing, though, was not easy and I was seriously fatiguing.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaA4v84H5qXVxl0JxlTBdwEL5NLN4SpeCKWuE6XMKchtt1sDd6XnMQJblHwLYQJ5GzgfAGy-au3IUX9sZCxq4GwzPcdMO_75HCpMDiVTazg-4NVf2i_PdG6hyn18q8ylgHS8hm20UI5O4/s1600/Steep+road+lookout.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaA4v84H5qXVxl0JxlTBdwEL5NLN4SpeCKWuE6XMKchtt1sDd6XnMQJblHwLYQJ5GzgfAGy-au3IUX9sZCxq4GwzPcdMO_75HCpMDiVTazg-4NVf2i_PdG6hyn18q8ylgHS8hm20UI5O4/s400/Steep+road+lookout.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The first of the lookouts.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I made it to the first lookout and I couldn't face the next couple of kilometres to the next lookout. I stopped for a while and was joined by a pair of naughty, curious Kea, who constantly pecked and gnawed at just about every part of my bike. I think they knew that they shouldn't be doing so, as they kept looking at me as they were doing it.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix7D36T6oRj4zSdEFYcYQ8hfdIzXGAysNNtg7Y5yU341Ty8E7HQkABjIhRqokw-u7CP-oenAa43QjDGTdP4G2Ev-7LgETIGkLHu4eN3Lumglq8yMnERap_W7vk6uIOb52imTJvMo2OFQU/s1600/Kea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix7D36T6oRj4zSdEFYcYQ8hfdIzXGAysNNtg7Y5yU341Ty8E7HQkABjIhRqokw-u7CP-oenAa43QjDGTdP4G2Ev-7LgETIGkLHu4eN3Lumglq8yMnERap_W7vk6uIOb52imTJvMo2OFQU/s400/Kea.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A kea trying to put holes in my stuff.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I really didn't want to get going again, as I was feeling a bit sick also. It is amazing that you can cycle all day without feeling that bad, but if you bust a gut for 10 minutes it can completely destroy you. I had another kilometre to go to get to the aqueduct lookout and then another kilometre or so to reach the top of the pass. Riding on the top of the aqueduct was pretty cool, but slow-going as there was still quite an incline. Another big push and I was at the lookout and one of the most spectacular views in New Zealand. After a little more extreme cranking of the pedals, it was all downhill to Arthurs Pass Village.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc_tAx_Euz8LDUC071W8HXSfGWw9S5ehPdI0vhtAaId1QpLgiXbbZ7KKPI2VefX1ghPuisvEeG_oqrhiHU3aNWU0sPWcHbjHs77YFyCziwRG0uCcQm93jSttjeEepkQ37KpQWWlE9-xNU/s1600/Otira+aqueduct.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="528" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc_tAx_Euz8LDUC071W8HXSfGWw9S5ehPdI0vhtAaId1QpLgiXbbZ7KKPI2VefX1ghPuisvEeG_oqrhiHU3aNWU0sPWcHbjHs77YFyCziwRG0uCcQm93jSttjeEepkQ37KpQWWlE9-xNU/s400/Otira+aqueduct.jpg" width="218" /></a></div>
<br />
I was pretty beat, so I didn't do much that afternoon, even though I had planned to do a short walk. Instead, I just sat down and did nothing but eat. I'm thinking that my body just didn't want to move very much.<br />
<br />
The next day, however, I was very keen to do some hiking so I spent the morning walking some of the tracks around the village and then planned to head out to Bealey Spur, about 12Km south and east of Arthurs Pass Village. I planned to go there instead of Avalanche Peak for a couple of reasons; Avalanche Peak was capped by quite a lot of snow and would be difficult to reach, and it was quite cloudy in the part of the National Park that the peak would have been facing, limiting the views. Bealey Spur was also in a different area, having amazing views of the valley floor and a mountain hut to stay in overnight.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhozN5C8NruPoWjRGjVNfV4lHEWF7UcBauZ0rSZOUoBzLWVvzEL8XPPcGRb5rc8UPP_iQTq7ub8YuFoQSSDiFG8S57DVnsZmT5oCBsUiaElEuXP_iH80MKjwBvlLE6A0mRHhorCNBJ256E/s1600/me+bealey+spur.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhozN5C8NruPoWjRGjVNfV4lHEWF7UcBauZ0rSZOUoBzLWVvzEL8XPPcGRb5rc8UPP_iQTq7ub8YuFoQSSDiFG8S57DVnsZmT5oCBsUiaElEuXP_iH80MKjwBvlLE6A0mRHhorCNBJ256E/s400/me+bealey+spur.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The spectacular viewpoint on Bealey Spur.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Obviously I couldn't bring my bike up there, so I simply left it at the bottom of the hike in the trees. I wouldn't do this everywhere, but it wasn't a very well frequented hike and it was well away from the main road. I thought it highly unlikely the bike or anything on it would get stolen. Sometimes you just have to have faith in your fellow man to be able to do these things.<br />
<br />
It was mid-afternoon by the time I started the hike and it took about 3 hours to get to the tiny little hut where I would be staying the night. The views along the track were truly awesome. One of the reasons New Zealand is so stunning are the huge glacial-carved valleys through the mountains, which makes for these massive, awe-inspiring views.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXDV7woMHZnBZgJmPTR1SceAoVY5iO8lnZUuQllvDdKdjol2EwVcXVUsUuDXvA7-x0jivKErPG3A6K4hv4w6d9WVWJ1kFBkmcrdweGw9uoqh-J451owAcBN6PH8zsXLHXRe-Lyu00Y15s/s1600/Bealey+hut.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXDV7woMHZnBZgJmPTR1SceAoVY5iO8lnZUuQllvDdKdjol2EwVcXVUsUuDXvA7-x0jivKErPG3A6K4hv4w6d9WVWJ1kFBkmcrdweGw9uoqh-J451owAcBN6PH8zsXLHXRe-Lyu00Y15s/s400/Bealey+hut.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The hut I stayed at was certainly cosy; it could only sleep 6 people, although I was the only one there anyway. It was a great little hut, though, and had been there for almost 100 years. After a long day of hiking, it didn't take me long to fall asleep, as usual.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFdCk0ha9kXyme2lokcIkLXIolD-FERHJpUgq03wpViyw61sNKqg0rqChOWW0cXDy9rx9PCnyUhEzZ09n4zCuunpKUGRUQkGXIi4t5KoQ1BGOf6TVr_0WkN1Tx8j1KrpYHbwpypSImv70/s1600/Inside+of+bealey+hut.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFdCk0ha9kXyme2lokcIkLXIolD-FERHJpUgq03wpViyw61sNKqg0rqChOWW0cXDy9rx9PCnyUhEzZ09n4zCuunpKUGRUQkGXIi4t5KoQ1BGOf6TVr_0WkN1Tx8j1KrpYHbwpypSImv70/s400/Inside+of+bealey+hut.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Once I got back to my bike in the morning, I left straight-away and was hoping for some more downhill, but it wasn't really what I got. Things went generally more up than down for quite a while until an area with lots of limestone caves and rocks, culminating in a popular area called Castle Hill.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnUpliD1qDMeIaBHCHCV-SSJRoWqxtstDKBZRHt9aMZl7MtGKYfxDQHCCAXvySRT5q0gtWEPOOxUh7m7DtuZHjkyE-rwBsIUGI2oSxdrvWUHS1DmDqq7wGCQdQnpx3AOJw2jjvchxIv24/s1600/Caves+Alp+Highway.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnUpliD1qDMeIaBHCHCV-SSJRoWqxtstDKBZRHt9aMZl7MtGKYfxDQHCCAXvySRT5q0gtWEPOOxUh7m7DtuZHjkyE-rwBsIUGI2oSxdrvWUHS1DmDqq7wGCQdQnpx3AOJw2jjvchxIv24/s400/Caves+Alp+Highway.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Castle Hill is an impressive place, but has to be one of the hardest places in New Zealand to photograph. I have seen various pictures of the place before, and it never seemed that interesting, but if you get the chance to go there, don't miss it, as the rock formations are striking in scale. Just don't expect to take a great picture.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWGMevpXNPJBtAtqeBhKSSgWD2J3ctGenRRyULpmd9pRQOq6JzCT6qarI4E7Vf_Ip9d44usdAppyspt5B5wWszhmcamXp99xwxuI_QbmeITI3zx2hSP_cLDbEHDnsovhUfLs0cWLDcTbo/s1600/top+of+castle+hill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWGMevpXNPJBtAtqeBhKSSgWD2J3ctGenRRyULpmd9pRQOq6JzCT6qarI4E7Vf_Ip9d44usdAppyspt5B5wWszhmcamXp99xwxuI_QbmeITI3zx2hSP_cLDbEHDnsovhUfLs0cWLDcTbo/s400/top+of+castle+hill.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top of Castle Hill</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After Castle Hill, I continued to climb, this time to Porters Pass, which is a little higher than Arthurs Pass, but not quite as scenic, still jolly nice though.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJRVVWc3ZafHlhSdAonvlpkXVK1Co7NHBtQorBfRcoVsM40wvQNlKHFAdd6Y0dZWJJkvuppOcZdeSWQQ4ZCIpnuezrWHZNxn6KyUdBDoIj48Dd5yLRbdZRC6zD0NzetKbmA3OLLC_cNpo/s1600/Me+castle+hill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJRVVWc3ZafHlhSdAonvlpkXVK1Co7NHBtQorBfRcoVsM40wvQNlKHFAdd6Y0dZWJJkvuppOcZdeSWQQ4ZCIpnuezrWHZNxn6KyUdBDoIj48Dd5yLRbdZRC6zD0NzetKbmA3OLLC_cNpo/s400/Me+castle+hill.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I give a bit of a sense of scale to some of these rocks at Castle Hill.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In general, the scenery on the whole road is amazing, and it is a real test of strength and endurance, but the scenic distractions take your mind off the hardship, and like many things in life, the stuff that is worth doing is often not especially easy. Indeed, this is much of the reason that bicycle touring is such a great means of travel in general. The Great Alpine Road was certainly a very memorable part of this tour.Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-54421188483137014912018-10-18T23:28:00.001-07:002018-10-18T23:28:09.107-07:00Through the South Island: Picton to Greymouth<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBUQtS5a0Fqc-Qh2l8-9GJOg27ET5mLd13SToSZsOGe9j_aJk-f5WaGq7LftVG0w8ALm5Kk08nIqoDt46PnPIsEAvCvFgwCgqL6lDgaaHJN2duoXGWxHEnfmWy810hUvdwjFquZlnyCC8/s1600/St+Arnaud+mountains.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBUQtS5a0Fqc-Qh2l8-9GJOg27ET5mLd13SToSZsOGe9j_aJk-f5WaGq7LftVG0w8ALm5Kk08nIqoDt46PnPIsEAvCvFgwCgqL6lDgaaHJN2duoXGWxHEnfmWy810hUvdwjFquZlnyCC8/s400/St+Arnaud+mountains.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Apart from the odd bit of back wheel trouble, the journey through the North Island went not only smoothly, but much better than I could have hoped for. I got everything done that I wanted to in the best weather I have ever experienced in New Zealand.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIyOjlkokFtfCz3URRonoWo8tjwvUuwKO7fKjb8-pUGvUhBYRk5750LYdeEe_6U7qZFap7L3b56kukio8UWPTSlGIJqkr3e2r_Ag74B-NSjiHw2hEjsNQNFNg1zb6B2CiYMGU7QcEiwXs/s1600/Picton+to+Greymouth+route.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="417" data-original-width="734" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIyOjlkokFtfCz3URRonoWo8tjwvUuwKO7fKjb8-pUGvUhBYRk5750LYdeEe_6U7qZFap7L3b56kukio8UWPTSlGIJqkr3e2r_Ag74B-NSjiHw2hEjsNQNFNg1zb6B2CiYMGU7QcEiwXs/s400/Picton+to+Greymouth+route.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdU5p59IdiQKNHQuhCgnjqNwS3sQ37W4D0pgMFooZDYwqRTwISpGUJ6GJu7h1YtB7td_DO9BltwrEg1baQ7Ehzlu2stbCfUYgULNOYw2j-3T1F5UDYoNJcW8blc2gzG4CTlwUKCYDQPTM/s1600/Picton+to+Greymouth+profile.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="118" data-original-width="386" height="118" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdU5p59IdiQKNHQuhCgnjqNwS3sQ37W4D0pgMFooZDYwqRTwISpGUJ6GJu7h1YtB7td_DO9BltwrEg1baQ7Ehzlu2stbCfUYgULNOYw2j-3T1F5UDYoNJcW8blc2gzG4CTlwUKCYDQPTM/s400/Picton+to+Greymouth+profile.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
This was highlighted by my few days in Wellington and the crossing of the Cook Strait by ferry. On all of my previous trips to Wellington (I have now been there 4 times) and on my two previous ferry crossings, the weather had been terrible, not just rainy, but torrential at times. This time, though, the sun was out every day. I even felt a little guilty for staying inside for much of a couple of days because I had to work and rest.<br />
<br />
It was a perfect sunny day to cross over to the South Island. I arrived in Picton at about midday and I had a plan to cover about 60-70Km so I could arrive in St Arnaud at around lunchtime the following day. The weather forecast was fantastic for that day as well, so I wanted to do some hiking in Nelson Lakes National Park.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin62bMhMGG9TUqEUkgXwwuAmaNFLHk11cNBqKGy3HOFKk25Wi9Rabz4YrQIjF1graUBdQ1TiGhm3sAhpnkLPYROXXNvkyRvMuIKIytuPAXzNDi-gD7jIlh5B_0BXcV14eoPjxJZamEKxo/s1600/Wellington.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin62bMhMGG9TUqEUkgXwwuAmaNFLHk11cNBqKGy3HOFKk25Wi9Rabz4YrQIjF1graUBdQ1TiGhm3sAhpnkLPYROXXNvkyRvMuIKIytuPAXzNDi-gD7jIlh5B_0BXcV14eoPjxJZamEKxo/s400/Wellington.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wellington in sunshine!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
With all my back wheel problems, I had been advised by the chap who rebuilt my wheel in Taupo to get the spoke tension checked and have it tweaked again after a few hundred kilometres. I decided to do this in Blenheim, as there were a few bike shops in town and then not many after that on the route I was planning.<br />
<br />
I found a bike shop and the mechanic had no other work on, so he said he could do it in about 30 minutes after he had his lunch. This was good, but the owner of the shop, who was there also left me feeling uneasy. The moment I walked into his shop he looked at me with a weird derisory grin on his face. I was getting a strange feeling of disrespect from him, and he also asked me some really dumb, condescending questions too, like I had never ridden a bike before. This is in stark contrast to the welcome I get in most bike shops, which is usually friendly, enthusiastic, and full of questions about my trip.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN8iPotbxD0SdBZS_EYO6bVNgFWxwrLQ5ltaX6SOAnuy35TzQWNrQKLHmqjgxNIajtbMJl4VV-5XZMa8P6YPvDoTACBygfSRuXiOuesHDLK89XhgIrZQyBPwBr1LJ_VxUCnaTjcfVxzBM/s1600/Picton+ferry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN8iPotbxD0SdBZS_EYO6bVNgFWxwrLQ5ltaX6SOAnuy35TzQWNrQKLHmqjgxNIajtbMJl4VV-5XZMa8P6YPvDoTACBygfSRuXiOuesHDLK89XhgIrZQyBPwBr1LJ_VxUCnaTjcfVxzBM/s400/Picton+ferry.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picton from the ferry.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My instincts were telling me to go somewhere else, but I didn't really have any reason to leave the shop because they could do the job right-away, so I just left it with them and had a bite to eat.<br />
<br />
I came back into the shop briefly because I forgot something and I could see them starting to work on the bike, then 15 minutes later I came back and they had nearly finished. However, the mechanic was working on the front wheel, not what I had asked, and I never had a problem with it. He said to me, "Well you might as well have the front checked while you are here", to which I replied, "Okay, as long as it doesn't cost me extra."<br />
<br />
Anyway, after 20 minutes work in total (about ten minutes on each wheel), and no parts needed, I get charged $40. Now, I had many broken spokes over the last few months, mostly on the drive side, so I couldn't fix it myself, so I know how much I should be charged, and bear in mind that a broken spoke requires the mechanic to take the gearing off the bike to thread the spoke and it requires more re-tensioning; it's more work and includes the cost of the new spoke. All these guys should have been doing is slightly adjusting the tension on one wheel.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh59mGnYuAkFHMrCFwS8pB-H4XumSdDCFrljxP5RJ8tpxpDrMkb8kXtrODaBIqk9ywMA6RxpY4wL4VuqupsVwvvH4LHNfVyX3RptB8zG7WNHq-8CgZQe4dULs6Q8nFVGoHuV3fZA2UJdHU/s1600/Stones.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh59mGnYuAkFHMrCFwS8pB-H4XumSdDCFrljxP5RJ8tpxpDrMkb8kXtrODaBIqk9ywMA6RxpY4wL4VuqupsVwvvH4LHNfVyX3RptB8zG7WNHq-8CgZQe4dULs6Q8nFVGoHuV3fZA2UJdHU/s400/Stones.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Breaking on the river during the steady climb up the Wairau valley.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I was expecting it to cost about $20, maybe $25, and I have since called up a couple of bike shops to see how much they'd have charged and $20-25 is what I had been quoted, so I wasn't especially happy about being charged $40 for what should have been 10 minutes easy work with no parts fitted (at their rate this works out at $240 an hour).<br />
<br />
All this being said, however, if the shop owner had been friendly and respectful towards me when I entered the shop, I might have just let it slide, but I couldn't help but think he saw me walk in with the word, "Sucker", written in bold type across my forehead, so naturally I questioned him about the price.<br />
<br />
This then turned into a very strange argument indeed; firstly, he immediately became strongly defensive and when the mechanic started to chime in, he oddly shut him down. He then tried to play the moral high-ground saying that I give cyclists a bad name (a weird thing to say for a bike shop owner) and when I offered him $20, he told me that I was only, "making things worse for myself". This was another weird thing to say given that he then helped put my bags next to my bike so I could load it onto my bike and didn't accept my money. I thought he'd try and keep the bags or make me pay the full amount by other means somehow. Strangely, though, as I was putting my case forward, he gave no convincing arguments or justification for why he'd charged me that amount, just accusing me of never stopping talking, again, very odd because I really didn't talk that much.<br />
<br />
Things got even weirder as he went behind the counter and brought out a pricing list poster for mechanical work on the bike. He pointed to the "Wheel truing" price, it was $30 for both wheels. So I asked him why he had charged me $40, he said they had charged me an extra $10 because I hadn't just left the wheels with them, so they had to lift the bike on to a stand to do it (it had no mention of this on the poster). I replied with, "Okay then, fair enough, I only asked you to do one wheel, so I should pay half of that $40, so $20 seems about right. However, okay, I'll give you $30 as a compromise." Still unhappy with this, though, he refused my money saying, "I don't want your money." I just laughed and walked out, job done for free. I rode down the road thinking how accurate my instincts had been about the guy and how exactly I had made things worse for myself for complaining.<br />
<br />
Well, I cycled-off shaking my head, but after some energy-sapping into the wind cycling down the very open Wairau valley towards St Arnaud late into the afternoon and evening, the ridiculous turned into the sublime. From one disrespectful moron in a bike shop, I was then approached by an absolute legend in his car.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlOoSw-Zz0KIjgau0mZMov1iexcXh371aNcPyT7MwuKn3B9JgN84mxkY7T1Wx6rPc1wFUQk79cHEJOSxtB8LGcroh3ZtUYSG0_27C-E-sXoyVTT8OmhwmG2j-Ycx4vQLlDsPM2MIOmOfc/s1600/Wairau+valley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlOoSw-Zz0KIjgau0mZMov1iexcXh371aNcPyT7MwuKn3B9JgN84mxkY7T1Wx6rPc1wFUQk79cHEJOSxtB8LGcroh3ZtUYSG0_27C-E-sXoyVTT8OmhwmG2j-Ycx4vQLlDsPM2MIOmOfc/s400/Wairau+valley.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
This area of New Zealand is well-known for its wine, and so the valley was filled with wineries and the usual farm land as well. This was a bit of a problem for me, however, because there was not even the faintest chance of a spot to camp. At about 7pm, I was exhausted cycling into a strong headwind and just wanted to stop, but there was absolutely nowhere. In stepped the hero of the hour, a dairy farmer named Mike.<br />
<br />
He pulled-up alongside me and, understanding my lack of options, offered to host me for the evening in his house just a kilometre or so just up the road. I almost bit his hand off.<br />
<br />
Very much a man's man, Mike was into motorbikes, hunting, bushcraft, and farming, so I had some interesting chats with him about hunting, fishing, owning a gun, and butchering game. To top everything off, he even cooked me a steak for dinner. These are the sort of people you regularly meet on the road bicycle touring, and they far outnumber the odd idiot.<br />
<br />
While I was chatting with Mike, I became acutely aware about how incredibly unskilled I am, especially in the traditional aspects, like hunting, fishing, farming, etc. I both admired him for his man-skills, but also didn't envy him in other respects. I felt like that for all his skills that I would love to have, I somehow I had a much better chance of surviving and thriving in the modern world than he had. <br />
<br />
It is kind of bizarre that, as a shy teenager, a bit of a loner, and not someone who especially enjoys talking a lot, I have always done work involving talking to people; coaching, personal training, and teaching. I have certainly noticed over this year how valuable people skills actually are. I feel like I am incredibly good with people, even though I don't often seek them out. It seems as though the strangers I come into contact with on the road enjoy my company and respond well to me, and conversely, I have also been able to put plenty of people in their place when I meet problems. Perhaps a way with words and the confidence to use them comes with age, but I am certainly noticing the advantages of my interpersonal skills this year.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0DllCyMp0olziOJ_9SaTevwHP-zaNxst6_q5hVP_lnUvJIlQoNchoOa_0gXWAjNHA_WQXSgtyj5VXQfT_4-vfej7f9POp_PWdJUKSCSntvjDl7lVMsXhG4qsg4OqH27vjsJAjGSoZfus/s1600/Bike+on+lake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0DllCyMp0olziOJ_9SaTevwHP-zaNxst6_q5hVP_lnUvJIlQoNchoOa_0gXWAjNHA_WQXSgtyj5VXQfT_4-vfej7f9POp_PWdJUKSCSntvjDl7lVMsXhG4qsg4OqH27vjsJAjGSoZfus/s400/Bike+on+lake.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
After a very comfortable night at farmer Mike's, I again battled the wind and a very steady climb up to St Arnaud. I got there at about lunchtime and pondered on what to do. I had planned an extended hike over a few days, but the weather forecast was not promising and then work also made such a thing difficult. The weather was great on my day of arrival though, so I left my bike at a campsite at the bottom of one of the day hikes up to the high peaks on the ridgeline of the mountains along lake Rotoiti.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdjrzY8jgxHp1UvBYSrA4tIZib1LrE99FPjTuLheVSUGr7UygzDH0mUcNZAoyPWoxsJ1vluGQCUmkIt2cf7YuLbN8ggwaqaoE3gCPQF9hN7dWs_JWRYhTANirA7LPWHeVbuJUg173VxjI/s1600/St+Arnaud+ridge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdjrzY8jgxHp1UvBYSrA4tIZib1LrE99FPjTuLheVSUGr7UygzDH0mUcNZAoyPWoxsJ1vluGQCUmkIt2cf7YuLbN8ggwaqaoE3gCPQF9hN7dWs_JWRYhTANirA7LPWHeVbuJUg173VxjI/s400/St+Arnaud+ridge.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The hike was spectacular, as was the lake at the bottom, and I had a spot of lunch with a drop dead gorgeous view before starting. I raced up the track and spent time at the top appreciating the views. No one was there, as usual, although I met about 3 people on the way up who were on their way down. Those moments, when you are one your own with the sheer wonder of nature laid-out in front of you are almost spiritual (I hate using that word, but I can't think I a better way to explain it). Everyone, religious, or non-religious as I am, needs to have the appreciation of something bigger and grander than themselves, for some it's god, for others it is their children, mine is nature.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAwoa6o_ehtP7i-pumlTzu0yjOs_B7nMdfQPZBqPgigosBqIB2TlZGzFJPlD5JxZKqT953PY_dUVM8quk_vDt7spyIKham9uqCb3xwNmmPWF5W-pm8Eno8WAYqFCPvCzx0DCkBTH3hnZc/s1600/St+arnaud+jetty+me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAwoa6o_ehtP7i-pumlTzu0yjOs_B7nMdfQPZBqPgigosBqIB2TlZGzFJPlD5JxZKqT953PY_dUVM8quk_vDt7spyIKham9uqCb3xwNmmPWF5W-pm8Eno8WAYqFCPvCzx0DCkBTH3hnZc/s400/St+arnaud+jetty+me.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I am not sure where this appreciation for nature comes from; perhaps it is the freedom, peace, and escape from modern life that draws me to it. I am not a person who ever really feels lonely, sad, or depressed - I just never feel like that - but I do get stressed easily. How the hell people manage juggling all the crap that surrounds having a mortgage, having a car, paying bills and taxes, having kids, and going to work every day genuinely boggles my mind. I handle physical stress very well, but I cannot handle the mental stress that all this involves.<br />
<br />
I waffle-on, but examining life is what I have always done, but when I bicycle tour, the time on the bike and the physical suffering, combined with the interesting experiences and adventures I have on a daily basis, make the mind wander and I contemplate all sorts of things quite deeply.<br />
<br />
I decided to move on, planning to utilise the nearly 2 weeks I was ahead of schedule. I planned to criss-cross the South Island along the mountain passes, adding miles to the trip, but also making doubly sure I explored everywhere I missed two years ago. However, the forecast was terrible for a couple of days, so I booked myself into a nice comfortable hostel 60Km away in Murchison, had a rest and sat-out the worst of the weather.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOz3Ssmxo2QVzS6J0VwoqPylsHTjTxF_AUwKOxHhf78JkcJJfT8s6iK6qHxeFNTb8akXyOFgRymby9mp50R_5jRYk4YG9t9Z4bXtaq_zyqBETFCvjjhbZyGxa5MkvJcmushAB_Zk8uwhg/s1600/Murchison.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOz3Ssmxo2QVzS6J0VwoqPylsHTjTxF_AUwKOxHhf78JkcJJfT8s6iK6qHxeFNTb8akXyOFgRymby9mp50R_5jRYk4YG9t9Z4bXtaq_zyqBETFCvjjhbZyGxa5MkvJcmushAB_Zk8uwhg/s400/Murchison.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making my way to Murchison from St Arnaud.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Well, the plan was to head across the Lewis Pass in the "better" weather the following day, but the only thing that was better was that it didn't rain as much, other than that it was one of the worst days weather I've experienced cycle touring. This made me change plans, as heading across the Lewis Pass seemed a stupid idea.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim2Ido3Tg2tOC-laezOvl3IPySaLkpbzFW8FqW3UtEBoH3EInQw5yr-fq2LdcICKaVY1e79pQeK3xAWqUyLLGD8MXsnTaQXAil_cytIuurCCOhisr8vPBl5teyIy-lS_6_5aWj9n3tcZU/s1600/Wet+Murchison.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim2Ido3Tg2tOC-laezOvl3IPySaLkpbzFW8FqW3UtEBoH3EInQw5yr-fq2LdcICKaVY1e79pQeK3xAWqUyLLGD8MXsnTaQXAil_cytIuurCCOhisr8vPBl5teyIy-lS_6_5aWj9n3tcZU/s400/Wet+Murchison.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The top of the skyline track in Murchison after a short trail run on a wet day off the bike.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After about 8am that day the winds blew, gale force, in exactly my direction of travel, South/South-East. It was not only incredibly hard to cycle into, but also freezing cold. No matter how hard I cycled, I did not get warm all day. Adding to my woes, I also broke the cable to my front deraileur. Fortunately, this didn't hinder me that much as I still had all my granny gears, I just didn't have the top two chain ring's worth of gears to choose from.<br />
<br />
Instead of heading South-East, straight into the teeth of the biting wind (and rain and snow, as I was told by someone who just drove through the Lewis Pass), I stuck with my original plan and went West towards Greymouth. By the time I had changed my mind, however, I had already taken the scenic route, adding an extra 40 or so kilometres to my day.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIPmsbtHbzXVDp4cvue448LZ8OS7_y8kMD24PQHWauMcXvDOmvDTEzPpglfvP8boKqiMsVgdcZUQBmmTkaOpupSKWnKd4yCtjMtK7Acnfcz1LbGcjvqTorOv1CQK-0OfOvcaB4PA08zPU/s1600/House+in+murchison.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIPmsbtHbzXVDp4cvue448LZ8OS7_y8kMD24PQHWauMcXvDOmvDTEzPpglfvP8boKqiMsVgdcZUQBmmTkaOpupSKWnKd4yCtjMtK7Acnfcz1LbGcjvqTorOv1CQK-0OfOvcaB4PA08zPU/s400/House+in+murchison.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
It was just one of those days you have cycle touring sometimes; sometimes it feels like all the gods are against you. That's life, I guess, you just have to tough it out. At least I found a decent free campsite for the night and had no trouble getting to sleep. After a day like that, basically I lie down, turn off the lights and within a few seconds I am dead to the world.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ5ntajQeWpN_ivgSHUNKp9D2uifwQMzPmT4cBJkgNrvUI0ryGQxeuhGNxXPY7T3w7-EG2a0n2s-6t1mFFX82_eK-RdPnDNYqARN0UKrkjF0uaosR5z0NJxh46rse59GTYfdpk0ajae34/s1600/A+nice+day+at+first.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ5ntajQeWpN_ivgSHUNKp9D2uifwQMzPmT4cBJkgNrvUI0ryGQxeuhGNxXPY7T3w7-EG2a0n2s-6t1mFFX82_eK-RdPnDNYqARN0UKrkjF0uaosR5z0NJxh46rse59GTYfdpk0ajae34/s400/A+nice+day+at+first.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I thought the day was going to get better as the cloud cleared in the morning, but I couldn't have been more wrong.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I still had 70Km to get to Greymouth and I absolutely had to be there before 1pm so I could work, so I couldn't have an easy day. It was a freezing cold morning. In the tent it was fine, but the first couple of hours on the bike were extremely uncomfortable, especially for my hands, which were either painful or numb. I noticed that the water was freezing in my bottle as I rode.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQbmXC363FoyYbiCEPzlTAT-NsPmXXubZXdHQNEVx4NkoeWBZIQrZcyYJvBcdZpNgWQ49TSY9haOn21S7peDMlppexQUZVPZDazyEjjalxpzppUhfmHHE5XkeeVRumXfJcrSmM9lu8o3g/s1600/Grey+and+cold.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQbmXC363FoyYbiCEPzlTAT-NsPmXXubZXdHQNEVx4NkoeWBZIQrZcyYJvBcdZpNgWQ49TSY9haOn21S7peDMlppexQUZVPZDazyEjjalxpzppUhfmHHE5XkeeVRumXfJcrSmM9lu8o3g/s400/Grey+and+cold.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grey and cold all day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I made it in time to Greymouth and checked into a nice hostel and tried to get warm, something that wasn't now very easy as I was a very deep cold.<br />
<br />
Despite having 3 bike shops in town, for some reason none of them were open for the weekend, which meant I couldn't get my bike repaired. This was a nuisance seeing as there now wasn't a bike shop until Christchurch on my route, as I was making my way there via Arthur's Pass. Likely to be mainly in the granny gears, anyway, I just decided to carry-on without the rest of my gears, as I didn't see it being a problem and I was super-keen to go to Arthurs Pass, one of the potential highlights of the trip.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK0nkMFavtpbrTx6rUg5wpl_Mw-tKlDWCYdMQYKorlc-o11VtypmOnSdJk9Z9jZtLCkSEzpGbNcXydMzRh-NhTxB4Ynnrfj9sl9FXsjw1nD_5gruXnKqeztGxDEtmvrAKxiweQ0gDiS80/s1600/A+day+at+the+office.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK0nkMFavtpbrTx6rUg5wpl_Mw-tKlDWCYdMQYKorlc-o11VtypmOnSdJk9Z9jZtLCkSEzpGbNcXydMzRh-NhTxB4Ynnrfj9sl9FXsjw1nD_5gruXnKqeztGxDEtmvrAKxiweQ0gDiS80/s400/A+day+at+the+office.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A nice day at the office in Greymouth.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-20647748183208697222018-10-07T00:31:00.000-07:002018-10-07T00:31:24.595-07:00Gisborne to Wellington Via Te Urewera and the Desert Road<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV0-p0XQf0cZflQphY3rFnewHtEgl4w8x-NnYcwYfx2xnbZVESa-fZ5XurtGtwOv8cExiBxui-YM0mfGigJtiFAY4sW26DEchSZdbtYJrPf_wGfEzhyXJ8TA3AnO4efav2-yM8oQP58PM/s1600/Bike+Mount+Doom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV0-p0XQf0cZflQphY3rFnewHtEgl4w8x-NnYcwYfx2xnbZVESa-fZ5XurtGtwOv8cExiBxui-YM0mfGigJtiFAY4sW26DEchSZdbtYJrPf_wGfEzhyXJ8TA3AnO4efav2-yM8oQP58PM/s400/Bike+Mount+Doom.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
On this trip to New Zealand so far, the weather has been much kinder to me than before. While I was taking a few days rest in Gisborne, the winds blew, which would have been horrible on the bike, and then when I left I had a week of good weather as I was riding through some of the most interesting parts of the North Island.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2dLo-S0loj9G5BIMzlA8loftAUG1xMAqWlm4SRY-YMUQGsQMKkFl563QGf6F7HL5bf_Yz-8nmw9Fqd85_8gN8XxPMApoQlhyphenhyphent-BIRGK2Hj1D_DLtJFfwmp8uMf0qdcILXaBY57FMBUOU/s1600/Gisborne+to+Wellington+Route.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="545" data-original-width="540" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2dLo-S0loj9G5BIMzlA8loftAUG1xMAqWlm4SRY-YMUQGsQMKkFl563QGf6F7HL5bf_Yz-8nmw9Fqd85_8gN8XxPMApoQlhyphenhyphent-BIRGK2Hj1D_DLtJFfwmp8uMf0qdcILXaBY57FMBUOU/s400/Gisborne+to+Wellington+Route.PNG" width="393" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxHvXouzdGwQhetLKGwexEO7t4_6tfwzFsBikNUKgKQ__86cndhSQmco8jIArkww_totlHMQs_MAvbqrseH8HrX_P2Zi_MnRMNumYm7XwCUl9vFM4kLYfLpHo2vh87jBv71K27Cv6Daoo/s1600/Gisborne+to+Wellington+Profile.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="120" data-original-width="393" height="118" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxHvXouzdGwQhetLKGwexEO7t4_6tfwzFsBikNUKgKQ__86cndhSQmco8jIArkww_totlHMQs_MAvbqrseH8HrX_P2Zi_MnRMNumYm7XwCUl9vFM4kLYfLpHo2vh87jBv71K27Cv6Daoo/s400/Gisborne+to+Wellington+Profile.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
I made my original plan to tour New Zealand while I was still in Australia, and at the time I wasn't interested in long days on the bike and I wasn't that confident with my bike due to my broken spoke problems in Australia. All this meant that I decided not to go through Te Urewera National Park because the road through this region, going around Lake Waikeremoana, is unsealed. I had some really rough experiences on unsealed roads in Australia, so at the time of planning, I couldn't bare the thought of going through this again with my unreliable back wheel.</div>
<div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWmS2xtWJLlNU3KDBWVYiA3YW_r_Jggo6s5bGD77HgRBqYBd9B1VzH2ScK9rcrEbUx1ErIlF9NaSeY44Fk0dcvVEqCgKc6To5UHJHKgBMolthQTVo8Cltwils-baIa819avRYaL2luSdU/s1600/Lake+Waikeremoana.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWmS2xtWJLlNU3KDBWVYiA3YW_r_Jggo6s5bGD77HgRBqYBd9B1VzH2ScK9rcrEbUx1ErIlF9NaSeY44Fk0dcvVEqCgKc6To5UHJHKgBMolthQTVo8Cltwils-baIa819avRYaL2luSdU/s400/Lake+Waikeremoana.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
New Zealand, however, is a different beast to Australia. On the bike, Australia breaks you down mentally; hours and hours of cycling (in my case into the wind all the time) through nothing, with flies surrounding you every time you stop, and huge distances between towns and therefore resources like food and water. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When I finished the cycling in Australia in Broome, I gave serious consideration to selling my bike and walking through New Zealand, such was the state of despair I was in when it came to the cycling. This was all the more strange because I was at the same time loving the experiences I was having when I stopped in Australia, I just grew a strong loathing for being on the bike.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMKofpRD0scaxVDmdHvmAdUCTzN0b0Zar6GZYJy3EgwzDh-oPm1f19cELkiihfFtsDWSSX0M3_esXIBshVN7-k8b9ghF8qGIVHSjtm3UiyZM1hSmml7KRxae2TjR3X3f9OrOFnlzmvYSg/s1600/Cool+road+2+in+Te+Urewera.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMKofpRD0scaxVDmdHvmAdUCTzN0b0Zar6GZYJy3EgwzDh-oPm1f19cELkiihfFtsDWSSX0M3_esXIBshVN7-k8b9ghF8qGIVHSjtm3UiyZM1hSmml7KRxae2TjR3X3f9OrOFnlzmvYSg/s400/Cool+road+2+in+Te+Urewera.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unsealed road climbing through the mountains.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In New Zealand, being on the bike is the fun bit. Any problems I have on the bike, like the physical challenges of the hills and mountains, or mechanical issues like broken spokes I just accept and get through much easier because I am in such a positive mental state. There is regular reward for the effort here. In Australia, I had to wait a few days, a week, even a month for my target - say, diving with sharks, for example. In New Zealand, the target is the top of that next climb and the beautiful view, the sense of achievement for making it, and the physical endorphin rush of smashing your legs and lungs to get there. Targets are achieved on an hourly basis and that makes a big difference.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_EwTjbze8T8_hGX2-9uv2TCDeJIfwi9TroNvTPi9n-PAkC_nNneQRrPO7IcZ6cwfI9gIa6BoWjs2fmP1ZR89sytzA6nSYcVGxCrZQh0kukWnbWV6F-vWgHH1nUTU0GVZjzEE5fFgAqjU/s1600/misty+morning+on+the+bike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_EwTjbze8T8_hGX2-9uv2TCDeJIfwi9TroNvTPi9n-PAkC_nNneQRrPO7IcZ6cwfI9gIa6BoWjs2fmP1ZR89sytzA6nSYcVGxCrZQh0kukWnbWV6F-vWgHH1nUTU0GVZjzEE5fFgAqjU/s400/misty+morning+on+the+bike.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love early morning mist on clear days.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This is precisely why, for me at least, ups and downs are better than the flat, at least the windy, desolate flat of Australia anyway. It's funny, because everyone I meet assumes Australia must be okay on the bike because it is largely flat, and New Zealand must be a nightmare because of the climbing. The opposite is true.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So, with this much improved state of mind, I was ready for a bit of New Zealand wilderness on a difficult road, with a still slightly unreliable bike. I was psyched and really looking forward to the challenge because this section of road also had some severe climbing to be done. One problem, though. As I checked Google Maps, I noticed that sections of the road were closed due to multiple land slips. Luckily, though, I checked at the i-site in Wairoa, and the very positive (and pretty) American girl working there said it was open to local traffic and that they'd probably let me through on the bike (usually people in information offices are very conservative and careful about advice, and often tell you not to do things, she was a refreshing change).<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4sTP9E5L5uU3bQgjSBc4gDVGbkxfUgrBz53YmhSzIZmyemPOXuyE9LTISiF5EMXUZtGjNokUSukUvInj_ecr3xyEhe7yuFqaS1hXED9AddDyYaGq5h2r32eVufiTQNibxc50gIm2Gn-A/s1600/Tough+road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4sTP9E5L5uU3bQgjSBc4gDVGbkxfUgrBz53YmhSzIZmyemPOXuyE9LTISiF5EMXUZtGjNokUSukUvInj_ecr3xyEhe7yuFqaS1hXED9AddDyYaGq5h2r32eVufiTQNibxc50gIm2Gn-A/s400/Tough+road.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The kind of roads I had to deal with through Te Urewera.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Before leaving Wairoa, I had to do the daily chore of drying-out my tent, which gets wet overnight from either rain, dew, or condensation. The skies looked ominous, so I needed to dry it out undercover. I took it into what looked like an old shopping area where most of the shops had shut down, bar one, a sushi shop.<br />
<br />
The owner popped-out of the shop for a smoke and I asked whether it was okay to hang my tent out for a while. He didn't look especially happy about it and also didn't speak English very well, so I'm not sure if he understood me. I did recognise his accent though, definitely Korean. In Australia and New Zealand, there are so many Koreans who own Japanese sushi shops, I guess they think sushi is more popular and they can do better business than with Korean food.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMma4kVktOuHE-GftgZUsu7ydIhTS-4d-goP9DBJ9aqSq4l856S2WSFMry9t6Yrq13007nWfmEr7kNsXrntg4f_9D-65SA-8ivDbkI9l7xrnrJ5J2-yC-8C9JZlFrda7UZNbhcAsy-hK8/s1600/Early+morning+riding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMma4kVktOuHE-GftgZUsu7ydIhTS-4d-goP9DBJ9aqSq4l856S2WSFMry9t6Yrq13007nWfmEr7kNsXrntg4f_9D-65SA-8ivDbkI9l7xrnrJ5J2-yC-8C9JZlFrda7UZNbhcAsy-hK8/s400/Early+morning+riding.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Anyway, he seemed reluctant to let me dry my tent out there and I couldn't understand him, so I started speaking in Korean to him - it always amazes me how much I actually remember and how naturally simple Korean sentences come out of me when I need to use it. His manner changed immediately; all of a sudden he was smiling, chatty and helping me hang the tent up. We had a bit of a longer chat in Korean about where he lived in Korea and when and why he was in New Zealand, then he went back into his shop for a while.<br />
<br />
As I sat on a bench outside planning where I'd stop that night, I wondered whether he'd come out of his shop with some food for me. I lived in Korea for over 4 years, so I know Koreans pretty well and I just had a hunch that he would; Koreans are often very kind to strangers, especially if you can speak a little Korean. Sure enough, about 2 minutes after I thought of it, he came out with a plate full of sushi and then asked me to sit down inside his shop. What a top bloke, and it reminded me of the random acts of kindness of Koreans. They are a bit of an enigma sometimes, Koreans; extremely distrustful of non-Koreans, yet at the same time, if you are in need, friendly to them, or show an interest in their culture, they are extremely generous.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKNzlpNQkY82TDalCrtqCq1k4iZ3HF-froNqh5TFJqg6rHF1tMTM9pjbxDjQi8M2xRMael7P3niMTRvkx5mpWQ7QekHBQQkg8n9iY1u_Te-CKpeWjFJii4O1UgdnE-UFXFAvypSI24nmY/s1600/Te+Urewera+Leg.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="464" data-original-width="705" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKNzlpNQkY82TDalCrtqCq1k4iZ3HF-froNqh5TFJqg6rHF1tMTM9pjbxDjQi8M2xRMael7P3niMTRvkx5mpWQ7QekHBQQkg8n9iY1u_Te-CKpeWjFJii4O1UgdnE-UFXFAvypSI24nmY/s400/Te+Urewera+Leg.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_A5Z6djoYgTayWb8QYbeNQBSt3VNYbl008Q-cojk19Xo8ccN67AP13e7iX0lYWtDSe2eGJoWjtWmGE1TP9_LWaaIZTj5Ofuq6AtQmzf7EZUJeb6p6v4-lO8QRxviEObMYvGRYEJPdOSE/s1600/Te+Urewera+Profile.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="123" data-original-width="381" height="128" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_A5Z6djoYgTayWb8QYbeNQBSt3VNYbl008Q-cojk19Xo8ccN67AP13e7iX0lYWtDSe2eGJoWjtWmGE1TP9_LWaaIZTj5Ofuq6AtQmzf7EZUJeb6p6v4-lO8QRxviEObMYvGRYEJPdOSE/s400/Te+Urewera+Profile.PNG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As you can see, over a relatively short distance, there was a lot of climbing, but this is a route worth coming to New Zealand for just on its own.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
What a great afternoon, free sushi and I could cycle the road through Te Urewera, and it would be extra quiet. And so it turned-out to be, with so few cars it was like my own wide bicycle path for at least half of the trip - and even after the closures it still wasn't at all busy.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXiaIAaZJDglZ2Xlrj2Z8h-CYPvZUpoBCNaDRARKSKxWzcWfFzmxuTu_P1LM_dwEo88l_eauad07-PXKDPhJPv1A0u4hJL8SiP01xbWll92ArcxvIcC031jibJ0VPmqbjmL1ImaLY36Yo/s1600/37+times.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXiaIAaZJDglZ2Xlrj2Z8h-CYPvZUpoBCNaDRARKSKxWzcWfFzmxuTu_P1LM_dwEo88l_eauad07-PXKDPhJPv1A0u4hJL8SiP01xbWll92ArcxvIcC031jibJ0VPmqbjmL1ImaLY36Yo/s400/37+times.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The guy who took this photo for me looked like he had never seen a smartphone in his life. Miraculously, after about 2 minutes of me holding this pose, he managed to take this photo (37 times).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The cycling was brutal, but the area was something special. Not just scenic, but really wild and the only communities there were Maori, and they were so isolated that many of them couldn't even speak English. It did feel like a very ancient and untouched land, except for the narrow unsealed road running through it.</div>
<div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBoOOSDxSwa0NRlG6SizHBTOtKDg1Q3xvXq06IStFnTN3HhftJC2u9L_O8446ZHREulI67mAkTb9UvPLzRZVnC3ETmsjjhFpIKLwTI23fzUlEGStt_bsbdXhVJAgVx1-CpFuGyyI0dCpo/s1600/Maori+Marae+in+the+mountains.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBoOOSDxSwa0NRlG6SizHBTOtKDg1Q3xvXq06IStFnTN3HhftJC2u9L_O8446ZHREulI67mAkTb9UvPLzRZVnC3ETmsjjhFpIKLwTI23fzUlEGStt_bsbdXhVJAgVx1-CpFuGyyI0dCpo/s400/Maori+Marae+in+the+mountains.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maori Marae in the Mountains.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I managed a few short walks, although I would have loved to do some longer ones, but that can be difficult with the bike. The camping was also excellent, with the added plus of it being okay to build a fire, a luxury that is often not afforded in National Parks in Australia and New Zealand. I could only source water from the lakes, streams, and rivers also, since there were no facilities anywhere other than the odd long-drop toilet. It did feel like a very wild experience.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCLnUOdr0iJNOYwj1ESqJiULUWJsHrrDPLmqeLyXJj1vhyphenhyphena_D9sQ1sGc_iWb_PST9Eysw-kOhSNyNsmZpkDZP2eMtwD5DMvjaEFGu60EGCbjOK_dyk7blfuOdzKq5-ZHBBPjU_n10GVWI/s1600/Camping+in+Te+Urewera.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCLnUOdr0iJNOYwj1ESqJiULUWJsHrrDPLmqeLyXJj1vhyphenhyphena_D9sQ1sGc_iWb_PST9Eysw-kOhSNyNsmZpkDZP2eMtwD5DMvjaEFGu60EGCbjOK_dyk7blfuOdzKq5-ZHBBPjU_n10GVWI/s400/Camping+in+Te+Urewera.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Epic vistas, waterfalls, and sights were around every corner and the road, although rough, was very picturesque, weaving through the mountains.</div>
<div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE0uLbfYDryU7HMLIRTPOoxAwZ5Jkj029u_Lfz3Qqf1VlNOGSS0j2AEUaTfpd5zqTPhQwV3TsO7u9rqXuPA7Fsf4kJeVYIfatQwR9xaO4ZG0uf_ecb6UCKGIG9uHU9fmL8VFWiryXlQfc/s1600/waterfall+on+road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE0uLbfYDryU7HMLIRTPOoxAwZ5Jkj029u_Lfz3Qqf1VlNOGSS0j2AEUaTfpd5zqTPhQwV3TsO7u9rqXuPA7Fsf4kJeVYIfatQwR9xaO4ZG0uf_ecb6UCKGIG9uHU9fmL8VFWiryXlQfc/s400/waterfall+on+road.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A large waterfall actually passing under the road you can see cut above it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The climbs were long and difficult, then the road went steeply down and then rose sharply again for probably about 140-150Km. It was really hard-going, but now over a month into the tour, my body was starting to adjust and things couldn't get that much harder than this couple of days of cycling. Mentally I was up for it, so once I had finished with the main hardship, things started to feel more manageable.</div>
<div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfiGJF_rSq6YBQPLoanbnqkh0Lc7oOnrsud-63m8YjttndF1tm57Eoo_LD0gqfRL1BE-5PtTLWL8r8YhqnQGETMsFwvwzcqo09YqaRIVIQUD8YuFNlzUVwXuQs7a6CZ8vUcMPZWr3g4bE/s1600/Cool+road+in+Te+Urewera.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfiGJF_rSq6YBQPLoanbnqkh0Lc7oOnrsud-63m8YjttndF1tm57Eoo_LD0gqfRL1BE-5PtTLWL8r8YhqnQGETMsFwvwzcqo09YqaRIVIQUD8YuFNlzUVwXuQs7a6CZ8vUcMPZWr3g4bE/s400/Cool+road+in+Te+Urewera.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Even a broken spoke, right in the middle of the wilderness couldn't slow me down. This time the spoke broke on the non-drive side, meaning I could fix it myself without taking the wheel apart. I did a pretty crappy job of it on the road, and the wheel wasn't exactly running the truest it had ever run, but it was good enough to get me through all the way to Taupo.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuJJrbqvvSSP-ugQ4I4uWVLjhyc0GhkEINGcfq4SMh7nMrm1wkXRf7va51fzOUgBtxZED-yOYCJx9afo0T2cKjNeTOhTpUb2PrR1qL04bWaFMF2C1tW09F2IEj4ZqYDTXGqppAOPKt3Bw/s1600/Lake+Waikeremoana+Road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuJJrbqvvSSP-ugQ4I4uWVLjhyc0GhkEINGcfq4SMh7nMrm1wkXRf7va51fzOUgBtxZED-yOYCJx9afo0T2cKjNeTOhTpUb2PrR1qL04bWaFMF2C1tW09F2IEj4ZqYDTXGqppAOPKt3Bw/s400/Lake+Waikeremoana+Road.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Because of the nice weather, I was making good time, and with the combination of this and the feeling of greater strength on the bike, I decided to push forward and forget about rest days. Starting to have that feeling of invincibility on the bike, I made it to Taupo and tried to assess when the best time would be to go up the Desert Road on to the volcanic plateau past the volcanoes.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidOl5uMjuMaCe87DRmJNJ_wjnggmPjIWh5tQ4Riu8yCX4sxTI7hsGoNgBgvAuBjjK-ECU6EtH47FLDRayexsjuDugFD7iSxCD2KafAn-A0l-LMqpQWmN6h8vSXzxOK6LFLjwTTrKaSvC4/s1600/Gateway+to+the+volcanoes%252C+lake+taupo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidOl5uMjuMaCe87DRmJNJ_wjnggmPjIWh5tQ4Riu8yCX4sxTI7hsGoNgBgvAuBjjK-ECU6EtH47FLDRayexsjuDugFD7iSxCD2KafAn-A0l-LMqpQWmN6h8vSXzxOK6LFLjwTTrKaSvC4/s400/Gateway+to+the+volcanoes%252C+lake+taupo.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking on to the distant snowcapped volcanoes from Lake Taupo.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I really wanted to get a good look at Mount Ngauruhoe (used as Mount Doom in The Lord of the Rings) and Mount Ruapehu from the road. Two years previously, I had an amazing hike through this region, but I never saw the volcanoes from the road riding in because the weather was so bad at the time I had to get the bus up to Whakapapa village and wait around for 2 days for it to clear. This time my route through the area was on the other side on the Desert Road, but the weather had to be just right to get a view of the peaks.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I only ended-up staying one night in Taupo because the weather looked good for the Desert Road the next day afternoon and the following morning. In the half a day I had in Taupo, I had some work to do, though. The broken spoke in Te Urewera was the fourth on that wheel, so this problem was just going to keep on happening, I had to do something about it. Nowhere in town stocked new wheels, despite there being several bike shops, but I did find a wheel builder and seeing as my rims were in good condition and it was just the spokes that were weak - possibly from not being originally tensioned properly - he offered to put a whole new set of spokes in a tension them up properly for me that afternoon. I had to do several runs to different bike shops, though, as they didn't have the correct kind of spokes or size of spokes that I needed.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyP01ihPHh6-c9rsptlYnYc7BgrNf29rut7K2m4zdNzeJVLv74C6xXMJc-6fSGDz3vKeCizZUqqgLtQcAbNxZXEzbC95IK8gXfsoQ9Q1qRzmTNXZfEE4XrCs6cyupKOZNACpmo0c1hKuk/s1600/Me+Mount+Doom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyP01ihPHh6-c9rsptlYnYc7BgrNf29rut7K2m4zdNzeJVLv74C6xXMJc-6fSGDz3vKeCizZUqqgLtQcAbNxZXEzbC95IK8gXfsoQ9Q1qRzmTNXZfEE4XrCs6cyupKOZNACpmo0c1hKuk/s400/Me+Mount+Doom.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
With the bike fixed then, I set-off the following day, trying to time it so I hit the highest point of the Desert Road in the early evening and camp overnight somewhere. I timed things pretty well, although in the evening the skies were not nearly as clear as the weather forecast promised them to be, so I couldn't see the volcanoes very well. Fortunately, though, the next morning the skies were clearer than they were forecast to be and the views were amazing. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxXCh-EH_iO_GtS_zz3dDFeAzJngu_cH8XeIYnm9Q3ZtWslu_NuyFsdPKWac8G4XCYC8_oXqta_OQ71Ln2thBRNK9mUNsIAf4Vk4nl6X5FkNQnCqgoYD690fWienNpQ_vXN_1gy_D84GM/s1600/Road+to+Ruapehu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxXCh-EH_iO_GtS_zz3dDFeAzJngu_cH8XeIYnm9Q3ZtWslu_NuyFsdPKWac8G4XCYC8_oXqta_OQ71Ln2thBRNK9mUNsIAf4Vk4nl6X5FkNQnCqgoYD690fWienNpQ_vXN_1gy_D84GM/s400/Road+to+Ruapehu.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I managed to pitch my tent overnight a few hundred metres down and just off an unused, unsealed side road, almost exactly at the summit of the desert road. It was cold, as the temperature got below freezing overnight, but there was no wind and I found a nice flat, comfortable spot. I layered-up and actually had a very peaceful and pleasant night's sleep.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeV7B8EJOUQW78yZMbrmdzu8pqMCF5cKsX4OFVRf-jG-xEtaEKah857h2n2uHh1WouTOm9owWstKLpvvPA0IBsEyp_vM0_vkSZBMccYre1fU_E9nhyaoF-8QOCjp0B1-Ta5Sv_zZ9kOxc/s1600/Long+road+to+Mount+Doom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeV7B8EJOUQW78yZMbrmdzu8pqMCF5cKsX4OFVRf-jG-xEtaEKah857h2n2uHh1WouTOm9owWstKLpvvPA0IBsEyp_vM0_vkSZBMccYre1fU_E9nhyaoF-8QOCjp0B1-Ta5Sv_zZ9kOxc/s400/Long+road+to+Mount+Doom.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I woke up early and the clouds slowly disappeared, as I got ready, to reveal the volcanoes in all their glory. It made for a very special early morning cycle. I even managed to meet the happiest man in New Zealand on the side of the road who took my picture for me.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8aPMo7fBzhMeLRx1ZrtGnkTpDhwH6XgWS-_FHUtcgPjGQ8O2vAk0OiBOyn63B5qVa506A2KqYy0hdoEJ_-Y96WRoiKvn_OgPOzxJdlZbhbGFbmdRF5UpYZ5WG8RLmFK0-2O3IGtN9Xl0/s1600/Desert+Road+road+to+nowhere.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8aPMo7fBzhMeLRx1ZrtGnkTpDhwH6XgWS-_FHUtcgPjGQ8O2vAk0OiBOyn63B5qVa506A2KqYy0hdoEJ_-Y96WRoiKvn_OgPOzxJdlZbhbGFbmdRF5UpYZ5WG8RLmFK0-2O3IGtN9Xl0/s400/Desert+Road+road+to+nowhere.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Very handy that I found this side road that I could camp off the side of, right near the top of the Desert road.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
The rest of that day was harder than I expected. I had psyched myself up for the ascent to the top of the Desert Road, which topped 1000m, but it was actually pretty easy after my trip through Te Urewera. It was a very slow and steady ascent, but even though the road was more downhill than up the next day, it also included a few quite sharp climbs, so with all the riding behind me I started to suffer a bit. It actually meant that the day with significantly more downhill was actually much harder on the bike, go figure.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGld4C7moox363t_9iNByZ9uk-3kg5LdLBcxX4I_pQESCiJWw9FE4q-73ak5wST_WuimHs8yF1_LmPztHv_wuoO4-TTTMdXR8mRQLbyKAtGa96N0bGQWrraPqd_EMhK_moDMA8llf8kzk/s1600/Bike+ruapehu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGld4C7moox363t_9iNByZ9uk-3kg5LdLBcxX4I_pQESCiJWw9FE4q-73ak5wST_WuimHs8yF1_LmPztHv_wuoO4-TTTMdXR8mRQLbyKAtGa96N0bGQWrraPqd_EMhK_moDMA8llf8kzk/s400/Bike+ruapehu.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mount Ruapehu in the early morning light from my camp spot.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
I had a bit of a target in mind to reach Wellington by the end of the following day to drop-in on my buddy Alex again, and worked-out that I'd have about 120Km to do on each day to get there (again, my plans of doing no more than 100Km a day completely out of the window).</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I was exhausted and wanted to stop at about 6pm on the penultimate day into Wellington, but I ran into the usual problem, there was absolutely nowhere to camp. All farmland, all fenced-off. I cycled on until 7.30pm all the way to the silly town of Bulls (the pun capital of the world), where I could at least find a campsite. I called a holiday park in the town and asked the price, but on the way I managed to find a huge area for wild camping so settled-down there for the night instead.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib24LyzyGO0ZToZ_GUO8z50Y0Xs4YYbWfqjTqvbmXcwoysmGrSCBUTBKl3D_Dr2amwsVQ_dI9YPw84IW0CwBPBAZTCiyY5BrfX0pa023Jt6VID3J3Cw0Uzh-o77p2ZlYgxRhJ8dFEXoJU/s1600/Mainroad+gorge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib24LyzyGO0ZToZ_GUO8z50Y0Xs4YYbWfqjTqvbmXcwoysmGrSCBUTBKl3D_Dr2amwsVQ_dI9YPw84IW0CwBPBAZTCiyY5BrfX0pa023Jt6VID3J3Cw0Uzh-o77p2ZlYgxRhJ8dFEXoJU/s400/Mainroad+gorge.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just the view off the main road.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Because of the extra time put in, it meant that, although pretty tired, I had only 91Km to go the next day on a flat boring, busy road into Wellington - actually a place called Waikenae, where I hopped on the train for the last 40-50Km or so into the city, avoiding the busy roads.<br />
<br />
The highlight of this section was meeting a guy travelling in a truck who had fixed up the back section into a tiny house. It was amazingly well done, the best I had seen, and I have seen a lot of people travelling in campervans, caravans, and trucks over the past few years. He had solar panels on the roof, an unbelievable 500 litre water tank, a wood burning stove for cooking and warmth, and an amazingly spacious living area, making great use of the space in the back. He even had cages underneath the back portion of the vehicle to hold firewood. He had apparently just come from Wellington to give a talk at a university about building truck houses, which he seemed pretty proud of as a self-confessed, "simple man", but so he should of been, his truck was a work of art, and a highly practical one at that.</div>
<div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBi_vV4B0RZnT5WsBzIwSwzwwCMjqfm_WzvFPHJlOyFJy31GuIDWj_RWZa8noX0pWSB2iIKs_ea9uObFDAeoC6ReGeUBML_sqo4nmayfXYRquZSqZUfLCa4JN8yO2ced_5IzatZfgVwWQ/s1600/Snowcapped+North+Island+Mountains.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBi_vV4B0RZnT5WsBzIwSwzwwCMjqfm_WzvFPHJlOyFJy31GuIDWj_RWZa8noX0pWSB2iIKs_ea9uObFDAeoC6ReGeUBML_sqo4nmayfXYRquZSqZUfLCa4JN8yO2ced_5IzatZfgVwWQ/s400/Snowcapped+North+Island+Mountains.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I never saw snowcapped mountains on the North Island on previous trips (except for the volcanoes), so I am guessing that the feeling that it had been colder this Spring was probably true.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It is always good to see Alex, and I'm glad I arrived earlier than expected as he was off with his girlfriend for the weekend to hike the Tongariro Alpine Crossing (I had done the Tongariro Northern Circuit 2 years previously, a longer hike which included most of the crossing), so I had a couple of days catching-up with him before he left.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I needed a few days rest in Wellington, and I had some work to do, so apart from a few morning runs up into the hills, I didn't do much - this was also, incredibly, my fourth time in Wellington, so I had seen quite a bit of it before. Legs rested, ferry tickets bought, and I'm ready for the South Island.</div>
<div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBr2ZUoMEuxAMU6OI7N2QTZljPaE1V-PEMl3O_IhqPmosTwqZ0sYrWY9W8D0pHFbxBcXeoa4pFU4MbCNW4NAfLSmrCxoU908wbeB4L-PYW6XRBXkbS5F9yB_21c0idpgsuzZnMVmD45Ng/s1600/Rough+route+through+the+North+Island.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="486" data-original-width="478" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBr2ZUoMEuxAMU6OI7N2QTZljPaE1V-PEMl3O_IhqPmosTwqZ0sYrWY9W8D0pHFbxBcXeoa4pFU4MbCNW4NAfLSmrCxoU908wbeB4L-PYW6XRBXkbS5F9yB_21c0idpgsuzZnMVmD45Ng/s400/Rough+route+through+the+North+Island.PNG" width="392" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My rough route through the North Island this time around, about 2000Km total.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-31655310188479027502018-09-26T15:55:00.001-07:002018-09-26T15:55:25.593-07:00Auckland to Gisborne<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz-ArcDYJIYrXAc9fTR2qScCiB5S9uZB1Du-nwExRHogGf3lswh54v7-_dPGX3uiwmPKZGmk7H-kRvEGgBk56LIO4iHUyu2ALGohPrBEnoIbtWCENiPgt6DEOtfZ7PYiEkb3Y86SynA_k/s1600/Bike+in+Waioeka+Gorge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz-ArcDYJIYrXAc9fTR2qScCiB5S9uZB1Du-nwExRHogGf3lswh54v7-_dPGX3uiwmPKZGmk7H-kRvEGgBk56LIO4iHUyu2ALGohPrBEnoIbtWCENiPgt6DEOtfZ7PYiEkb3Y86SynA_k/s400/Bike+in+Waioeka+Gorge.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
With the first leg of the tour done in the Northland, I set about finding a different route through the North Island. I had been through the North Island from Auckland to Wellington twice before. The first time, I went up to the Coromandel Peninsula first then went straight down the middle, the highlight being a trip to Tongariro National Park and hiking the Northern Circuit around the volcanoes. The second time, I went down the west coast via Taranaki, another great volcano of New Zealand.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLcDHXZvg3kgt_vegHkJSJIszofPPIrGDWxVr4Ojb1e_06ZEIrDiYEcXnKqIaCe1EEMlsvi9h-e157extVa_qVenDVbxkqUr8eKcVYwpVnzjjul2RMn2IgOwjYbsCRzrY2_xOgk6d7hlI/s1600/Auckland+to+Gisborne+route.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="436" data-original-width="567" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLcDHXZvg3kgt_vegHkJSJIszofPPIrGDWxVr4Ojb1e_06ZEIrDiYEcXnKqIaCe1EEMlsvi9h-e157extVa_qVenDVbxkqUr8eKcVYwpVnzjjul2RMn2IgOwjYbsCRzrY2_xOgk6d7hlI/s400/Auckland+to+Gisborne+route.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
This time I decided to head East, but for the first 60Km or so out of Auckland, I followed the same route as my first time in New Zealand. After that, though, it was all new and I hadn't even researched that much about the route, at least the first part of it to Gisborne.<br />
<br />
I had arranged a couple of nights with a Warmshowers host in Mount Manganui, near Tauranga, but I only gave myself two days to get there - my plan of doing no more than 80Km a day is very quickly going out of the window - 209Km over two days.<br />
<br />
Even though this meant an average of over 100Km each day, I wasn't too concerned as I was well and truly warmed-up after about 3 weeks in the Northland. The first day was extremely trying, however, as I had to deal with headwinds all day, plus my old nemesis from Australia was back, a broken spoke.<br />
<br />
Luckily, I broke the spoke right at the turnoff to Thames, where there was a bike shop, as again the spoke went on the drive side, making it difficult to fix myself. It did mean that I had to cycle an extra 12Km, though, as it was a slight detour. The mechanic at the shop did the job immediately, however, so I was on my way in no time.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge0mLJ9Is2u2e5K4XEFIXC4N25Q_W5x_0FKvyN9RXjl4zwroNzt4YZGz1X4GTqDjitAnwBjRsZVf1Y5nPtxr3j1Ta_xhyphenhyphenHx5fZRNwXz3jIZCIYFxIoTwjuaRSOSm47R_MUoQp5nkxA-_U/s1600/Karangahake+Gorge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge0mLJ9Is2u2e5K4XEFIXC4N25Q_W5x_0FKvyN9RXjl4zwroNzt4YZGz1X4GTqDjitAnwBjRsZVf1Y5nPtxr3j1Ta_xhyphenhyphenHx5fZRNwXz3jIZCIYFxIoTwjuaRSOSm47R_MUoQp5nkxA-_U/s400/Karangahake+Gorge.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
From Thames, I took the Hauraki Rail Trail all the way to Waihi, a mostly flat gravel track, which at first took me through farmland and then through Karangahake Gorge. This was useful as the road through the gorge wasn't especially safe.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8dntwHGy6WalPfsppPl16TYtTHRsHvaytLyPaGHmTeLVOzuiWHZ8MgfNIkYR-d3fZZ7W61erny8SzAh-xitgFJ6R8W1WzRiRGL1dNQLIT1LusKUafQid5fTtb-NCR7FwdQiCicQpyGkg/s1600/Bike+on+bridge+Karangahake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8dntwHGy6WalPfsppPl16TYtTHRsHvaytLyPaGHmTeLVOzuiWHZ8MgfNIkYR-d3fZZ7W61erny8SzAh-xitgFJ6R8W1WzRiRGL1dNQLIT1LusKUafQid5fTtb-NCR7FwdQiCicQpyGkg/s400/Bike+on+bridge+Karangahake.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I thought that the rail trail would provide ample opportunities for some wild camping, it being so far off the road, but I was wrong. It was devilishly difficult, as to begin with it was all fenced-off farmland, and once in the gorge there was nothing but track and walls of stone. I did manage to squeeze myself into the smallest of clearings on the side of the track after a very long day, finally settling-down well after sunset at 7.30pm.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOlClUn0ipcVhwGwSVl6UMvTMmUqER54Vzo1stWTvcsrqnC3ELhgM09YKrh1cNRt8JmLeQX7d8GBevhC25N72kfHqPzOorFNMO4Z3pFyvH1aOJQOdpQLL2pAxhTpx_wGhyC0lliiQeXhU/s1600/Hauraki+Rail+trail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOlClUn0ipcVhwGwSVl6UMvTMmUqER54Vzo1stWTvcsrqnC3ELhgM09YKrh1cNRt8JmLeQX7d8GBevhC25N72kfHqPzOorFNMO4Z3pFyvH1aOJQOdpQLL2pAxhTpx_wGhyC0lliiQeXhU/s400/Hauraki+Rail+trail.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The next morning the scenery through the gorge was fantastic and I took time to enjoy it. I had about 90Km left to do, so I had done most of the hard work.<br />
<br />
After passing through the gorge, I still had to cycle about 60Km along New Zealand's most dangerous road. It isn't dangerous because of spectacular drops of sheer mountain faces, it is dangerous because of the volume of traffic and big trucks. I saw a report on the news about a week prior to going on it myself and wasn't really looking forward to it. In fact, I had been on the same road 2 years ago, and I remember it not being very pleasant.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO63kJqk7vxkcmEjSxfgKXVFj_kk7cGUJKrvzIN74AbouBcjGVoo02w-WPDWzMVOamILPB9i_-qea05FbnYQbnt_tJ3qfVDQ0sqUAqvQHiQIo-UOcaCegAq7NRZbpZ54rizMkg-FpC0W0/s1600/Jurassic+Park.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO63kJqk7vxkcmEjSxfgKXVFj_kk7cGUJKrvzIN74AbouBcjGVoo02w-WPDWzMVOamILPB9i_-qea05FbnYQbnt_tJ3qfVDQ0sqUAqvQHiQIo-UOcaCegAq7NRZbpZ54rizMkg-FpC0W0/s400/Jurassic+Park.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I was in luck, though, I hit the road at a good time and it wasn't especially busy or dangerous, just very up and down and a bit boring. Two years ago, I turned off this road towards Rotorua, but this time I stayed on it all the way to Tauranga.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWq7QjuVj8oTX7vqdKnpTEUNbolwT0NmVUG8-QdvBrQ7x6knhDf6HXQxs6XNLoL3A_Nw51_lcAcbDQ7J0iF283yaMlT_NuxtoV95rduH4Uh6bZ-vAhwGUW4KCKUMBiKZ9Pot6iuauao6Q/s1600/Mount+Maunganui.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWq7QjuVj8oTX7vqdKnpTEUNbolwT0NmVUG8-QdvBrQ7x6knhDf6HXQxs6XNLoL3A_Nw51_lcAcbDQ7J0iF283yaMlT_NuxtoV95rduH4Uh6bZ-vAhwGUW4KCKUMBiKZ9Pot6iuauao6Q/s400/Mount+Maunganui.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I was a bit taken aback with how big Tauranga was; lots of busy roads and industrial buildings and work going on, and it wasn't great to cycle through. Fortunately, my Warmshowers hosts were in Mount Maunganui, on the other side of Tauranga, and it was a much more pleasant area.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtTmUoLytycRisN3kkRIFYycxet7mg7DoXqoXzkogeT86Q7CF7aEYJyMD_p5SbD-hZ8jd6fz0F_F_rpelBrklQNp-Gmr6Jmin5bGiU_j8bvX9INlUU0zgGX75usK9anMbxm6q2i-fSWnw/s1600/Surfs+up+in+Tauranga.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtTmUoLytycRisN3kkRIFYycxet7mg7DoXqoXzkogeT86Q7CF7aEYJyMD_p5SbD-hZ8jd6fz0F_F_rpelBrklQNp-Gmr6Jmin5bGiU_j8bvX9INlUU0zgGX75usK9anMbxm6q2i-fSWnw/s400/Surfs+up+in+Tauranga.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Surf's up at sunset.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Mount Maunganui had one of the most stunning beaches, and one with great surfing as well. Rarely have I seen such large waves on a relatively calm day. I walked down to the beach at sunset and loads of young people were running out there with their surf boards. It was a beautiful place with the Mount in the background and a large spit in the middle dividing the beach in two.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5RnSxwc6ROIn7GArLPMMKrs6i9PSZLUAMb52iW5ByytMVAqkx_5zzfE4ppTp30dpVHRqKWES0IDDUBjTtYDMsKMpsicr5coU09LKLeM9x-mUfS2Fel92BSu2yd6SLKQKwvjXxS0oTnI8/s1600/Sunrise+in+Tauranga.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5RnSxwc6ROIn7GArLPMMKrs6i9PSZLUAMb52iW5ByytMVAqkx_5zzfE4ppTp30dpVHRqKWES0IDDUBjTtYDMsKMpsicr5coU09LKLeM9x-mUfS2Fel92BSu2yd6SLKQKwvjXxS0oTnI8/s400/Sunrise+in+Tauranga.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gorgeous sunrise at the main beach in Mount Maunganui.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Sometimes I do curse my bad luck at being brought-up in the flattest, most naturally dull place, in Colchester in England. It isn't a bad place at all, and culturally and historically it is surely as rich a place as you could find, but it isn't much of an area for an outdoorsman. I envied these young kids being able to jump out into the surf on a gorgeous beach. They probably have no idea how lucky they are.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcx3WtObbiCHaD_ziN6ILg_nJoRLMVO5eSLdq2r4yd5yNV87U69kpCzgfjG7mgkDm65I4yHLw2gvbXKe6cuQGw_FipEBSmsoWx5gUn7mGKiNYDqjR7qsJfIJKHK5YeFW3GlRpR35m2AJc/s1600/Morning+trail+run+in+Tauranga.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcx3WtObbiCHaD_ziN6ILg_nJoRLMVO5eSLdq2r4yd5yNV87U69kpCzgfjG7mgkDm65I4yHLw2gvbXKe6cuQGw_FipEBSmsoWx5gUn7mGKiNYDqjR7qsJfIJKHK5YeFW3GlRpR35m2AJc/s400/Morning+trail+run+in+Tauranga.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My usual morning trail run, whenever I stop.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The next morning, I did my usual trail run, although I was extremely weary from a couple of long days on the bike. It was a pretty run; first along the beach at sunrise, and then up and around the mountain.<br />
<br />
My hosts were, as usual, very nice people and I was made to feel very welcome. They also gave me quite a lot of useful information about my route to come and some tips for fixing the bike when I ran into problems.<br />
<br />
I had about 3 days to get to Gisborne, and I was treated to largely good weather throughout, which was ideal for riding and camping. I followed the coast along the Bay of Plenty for about 150Km and then cut inland through the Waioeka Gorge.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV3Jr-z4Y_xKzxWoxmkczRe-zamObSRLtv6ELhJdlsHCir0UdHlYtQe5HqABoTRt1xMiTYksdcCGYB_L-8tFmF9g-b2ERGWN7d663sKUEN_KX-NqhkSvnh7ROIfEzJMirt0VSGAd3fXrc/s1600/Horse+on+beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV3Jr-z4Y_xKzxWoxmkczRe-zamObSRLtv6ELhJdlsHCir0UdHlYtQe5HqABoTRt1xMiTYksdcCGYB_L-8tFmF9g-b2ERGWN7d663sKUEN_KX-NqhkSvnh7ROIfEzJMirt0VSGAd3fXrc/s400/Horse+on+beach.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
It seemed as though it was one, long, endless beach most of the way, sometimes interrupted by an inlet or a town. I had a tricky day out of Mount Maunganui, firstly, the highway turned into an expressway, which I couldn't cycle on, then the detour was cordoned-off because of a marathon. I eventually decided to just break the rules and cycle through the marathon course as it was just too difficult to navigate around it.<br />
<br />
Once out of the built-up areas, I got back onto the SH2 and the road started pleasantly following the coast. The weather was good and the coastal scenery was very nice. Other people seemed to agree as there were more people fishing, riding horses, and walking their dogs than there were on the roads.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1hoGzaP115bnW_jjQhdfgmU4gFigM9tLthDwpmh7BQ3HmtaQkt2VxGpRtlAQMzilxspma7rhRJI5NgumkemtIV83pDUZX_I-uJ_uWP8-HerBwtk_TYdCLRYKrno5M9GFlsxv5MCMKeHc/s1600/Cool+camping+spot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1hoGzaP115bnW_jjQhdfgmU4gFigM9tLthDwpmh7BQ3HmtaQkt2VxGpRtlAQMzilxspma7rhRJI5NgumkemtIV83pDUZX_I-uJ_uWP8-HerBwtk_TYdCLRYKrno5M9GFlsxv5MCMKeHc/s400/Cool+camping+spot.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I camped overnight at a very good free camping area just shy of Opotiki after a mostly easy day's cycling with gently undulating roads throughout the day. I could have gone on further, but I didn't need to and camping opportunities were sparse after that.<br />
<br />
The next day, I had a scenic cycle through Waioeka gorge. The gorge was apparently one of the more difficult roads in the whole of New Zealand to build and lives were lost back in the 1910s forming the original track and then again in the late 1950s and early 60s turning it into a proper tar-sealed road. The steep edges of the mountains falling down into the river were the main reason for this. It did make for a magnificent cycle, however, and although the road climbed to about 700 metres, it was only the last 300 metres or so that were very testingly steep. The rest of the time the road ascended so steadily I barely noticed I was climbing at all, especially with the beautiful scenery all around.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1CPKy6Tndzcw7Y_qlrWgsaOVCj3_t2n9X2_WcIlz3ql-6qSaYRDlxzaG2yK7wBtYKIk6MTjqe-MtDcv7E_yS8DVBfetjb0ZsdaZKM-EkV4Sbhl82uc-wzO1xLzPxcgxCjsS7aKbdeytk/s1600/Waioeka+Gorge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1CPKy6Tndzcw7Y_qlrWgsaOVCj3_t2n9X2_WcIlz3ql-6qSaYRDlxzaG2yK7wBtYKIk6MTjqe-MtDcv7E_yS8DVBfetjb0ZsdaZKM-EkV4Sbhl82uc-wzO1xLzPxcgxCjsS7aKbdeytk/s400/Waioeka+Gorge.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Every 5-10Km or so there was a rest stop with some information about the early settlers of this region or how the road was built, mostly in nice areas to sit down and relax. It was probably my favourite section of cycling on the trip so far.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFARNWxAyYngmff5P46HNfLLGOKK_6MvtGuqCO3dVxr6-tNp3oMK21IrfHtXz8gGHAh0ESw0pA-Q7jd_byoLzKLCI7z688p29d1PJ0zWlJ5R4KD4PVoMdAwE3mcbLJSOR6P1Q6FLMI7bY/s1600/Me+on+bridge+Waioeka.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFARNWxAyYngmff5P46HNfLLGOKK_6MvtGuqCO3dVxr6-tNp3oMK21IrfHtXz8gGHAh0ESw0pA-Q7jd_byoLzKLCI7z688p29d1PJ0zWlJ5R4KD4PVoMdAwE3mcbLJSOR6P1Q6FLMI7bY/s400/Me+on+bridge+Waioeka.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
After a steep climb, I had to find somewhere to camp for the night and managed to find a slightly dodgy campsite near a rest stop on some slightly uneven ground, which didn't make for a great night's sleep. The next day I felt this; I had done about 120Km with a large climb with not much sleep at the end of it, and even with a strong tailwind pushing me the last 45Km into Gisborne, I couldn't wait to get there.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV73Mqpp9Nmv4qhUhV425WAhsJfwFLCY6Ae6Ec348sWvq7DbRiJET2zQXgRzL6CNsCukURh91il4Umrc0XdCgfNQ9hzf0SG7j3T-Y7Y2FwdzGLX30Z9kumUcd8Bq86WdME0zEPMouMdAg/s1600/Captain+Cook+at+Poverty+Bay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV73Mqpp9Nmv4qhUhV425WAhsJfwFLCY6Ae6Ec348sWvq7DbRiJET2zQXgRzL6CNsCukURh91il4Umrc0XdCgfNQ9hzf0SG7j3T-Y7Y2FwdzGLX30Z9kumUcd8Bq86WdME0zEPMouMdAg/s400/Captain+Cook+at+Poverty+Bay.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Statue of Captain Cook overlooking Poverty Bay in Gisborne.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Once in Gisborne - a fairly unattractive town, except for a nice lookout over Poverty Bay - I got a huge bonus when I tried to check into the YHA. YHA hostels in New Zealand offer a 25% discount for members who are also low-carbon travellers, so I definitely qualify as a cyclist. It has saved me quite a bit of money on previous tours here. This hostel, though, took it one step further, offering free camping in their backyard, which included free use of their facilities. To be honest, with some people in hostels being a bit smelly and loud snorers, the tent is just as comfortable, if not more so, so I was more than happy to pitch the tent.<br />
<br />
Poverty Bay is so-named because when Captain Cook sailed into it in 1769 looking for provisions and met with the local Maori, he misunderstood a traditional challenge from the tribe and killed many of them and left without anything. <br />
<br />
There wasn't that much to do in Gisborne, but that didn't matter much; sometimes you just need time off the bike to rest and recuperate, and the hostel had a nice movie collection, ideal for getting away from from the cold wind that was blowing outside and putting my feet up.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQkNaX2m31Uxp7OWldo3J2I5dEyHSiP2GNysJXWEzvOgQ9ue4-g_Tg8fiBcn1cmiFpnDrC9oMr98N66dv7Gdh1clV3nxJAjjZQu9tGvEPhP-Hj1_GQ6XMzxbuPk5Bf4T0J-4ZqfMZ4G60/s1600/Caption+Cook+on+shore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQkNaX2m31Uxp7OWldo3J2I5dEyHSiP2GNysJXWEzvOgQ9ue4-g_Tg8fiBcn1cmiFpnDrC9oMr98N66dv7Gdh1clV3nxJAjjZQu9tGvEPhP-Hj1_GQ6XMzxbuPk5Bf4T0J-4ZqfMZ4G60/s400/Caption+Cook+on+shore.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
While I was in Gisborne, I contemplated how cheaply I was doing things in New Zealand, spending less than $150 a week on everything, while at the same time having an awesome time. I can't tell you how many times I have cycled away from my camp site in the morning taking deep breaths of the fresh air and mulling-over how wonderful life is. This is a far cry from cycling through Australia, where things were mostly pure suffering on the bike.<br />
<br />
This is not to say that the experience in Australia was not worthwhile; the places I stopped and the things I did in these places will live with me for the rest of my life. They were genuine bucket-list things to do. Here in New Zealand, there is less of that, but day-to-day it is 100 times better and without sounding too much of a hippy, cliched, and over-the-top, I feel lucky to be alive. I literally can't bear the thought of having to do a full-time job and living a "normal life", it's all too stifling for me. Reading of the trials and tribulations of the first settlers to the Waioeka Gorge region gave me a sense of pity for their hardship, both also admiration for the sense of adventure and freedom. That's what it is all about for me.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-1663352617438650252018-09-20T15:43:00.000-07:002018-09-20T15:51:44.368-07:00The Northland Part 2 - Paihia back to Auckland Via the West Coast<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnIfzuiU1fwWVvddDieycBrN8pW0-l0QwBwyLO8Xptruz4UNHUl0ODzyuFtXC0jnRM66TvwVUxZ5tgaqoOTriM4TewEEkHvNQZbWZjHG_UbGXdHOySuPRt2qLpfHE4h-bKrVJmM7nevr4/s1600/Hokianga+view.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnIfzuiU1fwWVvddDieycBrN8pW0-l0QwBwyLO8Xptruz4UNHUl0ODzyuFtXC0jnRM66TvwVUxZ5tgaqoOTriM4TewEEkHvNQZbWZjHG_UbGXdHOySuPRt2qLpfHE4h-bKrVJmM7nevr4/s400/Hokianga+view.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
After an extended stay of a few days in Paihia, I had three days to get to my next stop which was over on the West coast, Ahipara. Ahipara lies at the very southern end of the famous 90-mile beach, and I had planned a few days there working.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbyZ9EN_A2XLc5Utmg_fw-diQHNophr_dqXsCX5st4omXXlUQkGNGWuzRkuKdxFbr08-SRuhl3zICHLs7XpvvHXN6y2X4RVkmlgUJ5hzqyMWMpIecOiSnKXrvcGSv5vlkSSif411UDIlA/s1600/Northland+part+2+route.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="573" data-original-width="651" height="351" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbyZ9EN_A2XLc5Utmg_fw-diQHNophr_dqXsCX5st4omXXlUQkGNGWuzRkuKdxFbr08-SRuhl3zICHLs7XpvvHXN6y2X4RVkmlgUJ5hzqyMWMpIecOiSnKXrvcGSv5vlkSSif411UDIlA/s400/Northland+part+2+route.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXiWkBvieNYA9dYJhgxrGzNmICxXccXpounPS1Lrh7BkvBqKsAT3QRUMYMjd9HAFQeGYAdksIevIePAp2t00Okg0_BY6l0rLCuZYHJuIrEjlSdRW7tu21YsdnaIv29lqpnZS_tT3_hXao/s1600/Northland+part+2+profile.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="131" data-original-width="390" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXiWkBvieNYA9dYJhgxrGzNmICxXccXpounPS1Lrh7BkvBqKsAT3QRUMYMjd9HAFQeGYAdksIevIePAp2t00Okg0_BY6l0rLCuZYHJuIrEjlSdRW7tu21YsdnaIv29lqpnZS_tT3_hXao/s400/Northland+part+2+profile.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Before then, I had to cover about 190Km. The first day was cloudy and grey, but the cycling was uneventful anyway, except for a nice waterfall in Kerikeri, so I didn't miss out on much. I made good time and, preparing for a lack of supermarkets to come, I stopped in a Pak 'n' Save in Kaitaia and loaded-up with enough food to last me for about a week. There was very little in Ahipara and also from Ahipara to Dargaville.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghC8udAVHmjEzdr8OaLbwSw3JjVKMka3XgI3SYM6Q0XZ9zHBI1RVJIfmverrfu-LJ5m5VOlFoCjlw7dm94xVY8ILvLsMrFPGep1EbwCwGHjuSsP6yOwW27WOB91ofp1_rzOl5NTJo2YqA/s1600/Rainbow+falls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghC8udAVHmjEzdr8OaLbwSw3JjVKMka3XgI3SYM6Q0XZ9zHBI1RVJIfmverrfu-LJ5m5VOlFoCjlw7dm94xVY8ILvLsMrFPGep1EbwCwGHjuSsP6yOwW27WOB91ofp1_rzOl5NTJo2YqA/s400/Rainbow+falls.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rainbow falls in Kerikeri.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I pushed into some stiff headwinds on a heavy bike - with all the food - rolling into Ahipara, but I didn't have that much ground to cover.<br />
<br />
There wasn't much in Ahipara, except for a vast and spectacular beach and a very good holiday park, where I stayed for a few days. In Paihia and Whangarei I had spent my time off the bike trail running, but in Ahipara, the long, flat beach was ideal for some sprinting, interval training, and circuits, so that was my morning routine for 3 days. It sounds crazy perhaps, doing all this extra exercise on top of the long days on the bike, but the body thanks me for it; I don't get set into slow, plodding bicycle mode.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYuS66l6csKknH_X3qUHS7uVsvzMTME5nbB0Z2I_SJ3VTFtqkZAwhLpKISn3fbKZFCqLrJxZyJ4CFAwJo81cnmrtfYFNx2BKFEqlhIQH5yo59dMEVe_kX9B75dtcKaHjUAlP4cilXyBGw/s1600/Ahipara.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYuS66l6csKknH_X3qUHS7uVsvzMTME5nbB0Z2I_SJ3VTFtqkZAwhLpKISn3fbKZFCqLrJxZyJ4CFAwJo81cnmrtfYFNx2BKFEqlhIQH5yo59dMEVe_kX9B75dtcKaHjUAlP4cilXyBGw/s400/Ahipara.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The southern end of 90-mile beach in Ahipara.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The holiday park was the best I have ever stayed at; great facilities, super-clean, and Sky TV for extra comfort and convenience. I put my feet up and relaxed for a couple of days while I did a little work also.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihxB0jSsTkUXr8YpaHWi66CWCqcIB5urPWAV7oxoVdSl0N-_SHE8y54mwl-zQpWsQipRwWzxqKOae5YPvI5CeH58qno28WFNKq1PwG8Dq6XBygBO-7v_0dxEFOasuiMZOuOn0SpnqJwEE/s1600/90+mile+beach+highway.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihxB0jSsTkUXr8YpaHWi66CWCqcIB5urPWAV7oxoVdSl0N-_SHE8y54mwl-zQpWsQipRwWzxqKOae5YPvI5CeH58qno28WFNKq1PwG8Dq6XBygBO-7v_0dxEFOasuiMZOuOn0SpnqJwEE/s400/90+mile+beach+highway.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">90-mile beach is actually an official road, but I think it might have been tough on the bike.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The next target was Dargaville, about another 180Km south on the West coast. The roads were tough again, with steep climbs around every corner. I managed to dodge the inclement weather very effectively on the first day, but I got completely stuck for somewhere to camp overnight and ended-up contemplating staying in a bus shelter out of town.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg78pxLk2ntUZXygA-KZJxLrnzxnUF0tKrzKDTN8Mq02S1LLHhMlyGzND0rd5-AVCUKCzL6p-ZSmutS6k5vHwZiHlC04Z1geC97EdJA1Zp33Hd_sdeQ97cZWcgvVSkf1pSd-YaVoz8D-w/s1600/MIsty+morning+Hokianga.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg78pxLk2ntUZXygA-KZJxLrnzxnUF0tKrzKDTN8Mq02S1LLHhMlyGzND0rd5-AVCUKCzL6p-ZSmutS6k5vHwZiHlC04Z1geC97EdJA1Zp33Hd_sdeQ97cZWcgvVSkf1pSd-YaVoz8D-w/s400/MIsty+morning+Hokianga.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Somehow I managed to dodge the rain on the first day out of Ahipara towards Dargaville.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Fortunately, a nice chap pulled-up alongside me and asked if I needed somewhere to stay; his car was full but he said he lived on a farm just up the road, about 4Km away. He gave me directions, but I had trouble finding his place as it was dark and there were numerous other small farms and properties dotted around. Luckily somebody else pulled-up alongside me and offered to help. I chucked the bike on the back of their truck and they helped me find the place.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBS681KrdFLcS7mO64VLmIu-R_6VRI3d8YH87ald1sTzm2NHAHQNHiMkPIQxbDAtx46EHwH47mHOEwTJtQw6uWSBcRIrcFFyJLhSB6UxNbf2ApFuTxgHHGVGu3cc8lnyixejTeVSRWlpI/s1600/Tiny+house.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBS681KrdFLcS7mO64VLmIu-R_6VRI3d8YH87ald1sTzm2NHAHQNHiMkPIQxbDAtx46EHwH47mHOEwTJtQw6uWSBcRIrcFFyJLhSB6UxNbf2ApFuTxgHHGVGu3cc8lnyixejTeVSRWlpI/s400/Tiny+house.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
It wasn't quite what I expected, and as I was guided up through the long wet grass and mud in the dark to a house on the top of the hill, I started to wonder what I had gotten myself into. I eventually made my way up to his place, which was perched on the top of a hill overlooking the valley and his land, and discovered that it was a half-finished tiny house. The roof was on, the walls were up, he had basic kitchen facilities and two beds, but that was about it, there were bits of wood and tools everywhere.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDihm1jDrsWFPZn7tTGxOHtkK1KNOXq55mqiXbzXMG6D4h-8eG0xG9FaccTh3T0KlC5xg7btS4ExFU1jbJbUzOW9n_edIYdS9BWaWcFFIUyIHi1YXw7oeTYA8H5gzTCqe4u2lYWAF679M/s1600/Tiny+house+view.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDihm1jDrsWFPZn7tTGxOHtkK1KNOXq55mqiXbzXMG6D4h-8eG0xG9FaccTh3T0KlC5xg7btS4ExFU1jbJbUzOW9n_edIYdS9BWaWcFFIUyIHi1YXw7oeTYA8H5gzTCqe4u2lYWAF679M/s400/Tiny+house+view.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view down the valley and his - very muddy - garden.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
He went on to explain that he had built it on a trailer to avoid government regulations. Amazingly, even if you purchase an area of land for yourself, you are not allowed to build your own house in New Zealand, and I am guessing this might be the same in many countries. Government encroachment on personal liberties is one of the motivations for jumping on the bike for me, I do get sick of having to deal with the constant rules and regulations out there, tripping you up at every turn. Bicycle touring is freedom from all that crap, and I don't know if the average person realises just how much of this garbage there actually is.<br />
<br />
I keep hearing how much life has improved, even over the last 10-20 years or so; crime rates and violence are going down, and apparently we all have more to spend on stuff, have more convenient lifestyles, we are living longer, and have access to all the information we'll ever need at our fingertips. However, I'm not convinced. House cats are safe and live longer than a cat free to roam the neighbourhood, but I know which one I'd rather be. I can't help but think of the movie "Demolition Man" when I think of where we are going. Government is far, far too big and has too much power, and they'll find a way to regulate the building of tiny houses and bicycle tourers eventually, I guarantee it.<br />
<br />
Anyway, (rant over) he was an interesting bloke to meet, and his idea of a tiny house in the countryside, growing his own vegetables is one that has some appeal to me as I enjoy the feeling of freedom and self-reliance. However, there was a tinge of sadness about his situation. He did have a family, but was divorced and maybe slightly alone. I had the distinct impression that he was quite happy having a bit of company and a chat for the evening and that I really wasn't putting him out at all.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVwBtkIt_jUX1897OlT81ziAMqS2ykiayxKEqXlDHEvB3hQLgrr7eJruYxJsj9W5QZ__GJ7YzLyHzKiN6bYylqn4HKMq8dc-1WKFx9vZ8Foek2lGPCicpea0pCzZIwapeKVdlkWt5ZCaU/s1600/bike+hokianga+view.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVwBtkIt_jUX1897OlT81ziAMqS2ykiayxKEqXlDHEvB3hQLgrr7eJruYxJsj9W5QZ__GJ7YzLyHzKiN6bYylqn4HKMq8dc-1WKFx9vZ8Foek2lGPCicpea0pCzZIwapeKVdlkWt5ZCaU/s400/bike+hokianga+view.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I knew the following day would be a testing one; I had the longest climb of the tour yet, up to about 400 metres, followed by another testing climb, with the usual short, sharp inclines in between. Thankfully, though, the main ascent was mostly steady, so it wasn't too bad.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIITS2HlLhm2tpcHJPDuQTc6JuET3rp3-ClvzIUsVChzxaRig8F98hf0UfclcdTHIxOUmQIrsijge7m6AFPi16ifi035sAtg3jMSnJBndRvLsBtOTOC2K8HUDmB6E1PBRKzABBrjk6qTg/s1600/Omapere+shore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIITS2HlLhm2tpcHJPDuQTc6JuET3rp3-ClvzIUsVChzxaRig8F98hf0UfclcdTHIxOUmQIrsijge7m6AFPi16ifi035sAtg3jMSnJBndRvLsBtOTOC2K8HUDmB6E1PBRKzABBrjk6qTg/s400/Omapere+shore.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The scenery in Opononi and Omapere was very nice in the morning as the skies cleared for a beautiful sunny day. You get such amazing colours in New Zealand on clear days.<br />
<br />
Once I said good bye to the coast, I immediately started ascending up into Waipoua forest, home to many ancient Kauri trees. In fact, the West coast of the Northland is called the Kauri coast. These trees are big and beautiful and can live for thousands of years. Unfortunately, they are being blighted by a disease called Kauri dieback. Because of this, at the entrance to every walking track into the forest in this part of New Zealand, you have to brush the soil off your shoes and then disinfect them also, with strict instructions to stick to the paths and not tread on kauri roots.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmjU9aHbpMzBKdtBtuHc9IRAgohNxIP5EH7r70k3e-XSdAGPh1kw87FXvKlQi4Z53jLaYfR2lYwqYtS7GVt5eyUuee7GcshTKrAbQpD3wj7-ir_jezfjP-AZXiWA2lgwBdsbu8X4vck4g/s1600/Kauri+tree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="506" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmjU9aHbpMzBKdtBtuHc9IRAgohNxIP5EH7r70k3e-XSdAGPh1kw87FXvKlQi4Z53jLaYfR2lYwqYtS7GVt5eyUuee7GcshTKrAbQpD3wj7-ir_jezfjP-AZXiWA2lgwBdsbu8X4vck4g/s640/Kauri+tree.jpg" width="329" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It actually was impressively big, this picture doesn't do it justice.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
"Tane Mahuta", or "the lord of the forest", is the biggest kauri tree in the world, standing at 51 metres tall and a trunk girth of about 19 metres, and this was just a short walk from the road. I have seen some pretty big trees this year; the giant sequoia, General Sherman, in California, the Gloucester Tree in Western Australia, and now Tane Mahuta in New Zealand, and the lord of the forest was indeed an impressive sight.<br />
<br />
It was an excellent, quiet forest road, although tough going with all the climbing. I made my way out and down the other side and was going to try and settle into a backpackers about 35Km from Dargaville. I blew right by it, however, and ended-up a bit stuck for somewhere to stay for the night. I stumbled into a local inn in a very small village and asked if there was anywhere I could pitch a tent around. After a short consultation with his wife, the owner offered his garden, and then a little time later his wife offered their outside laundry room. Luxury indeed.<br />
<br />
I felt obliged to at least buy some food from them, and they duly served me up the biggest and best plate of nachos I have ever had for $10. I was very thankful, they were a wonderfully friendly couple and they introduced me to all their regulars while sitting around watching, "The Chase (UK)" on TV.<br />
<br />
Onto Dargaville then and a warmshowers host for a couple of days. I was pretty tired from the day before, but still managed to get my first game of squash in on this tour of New Zealand a few hours after I arrived. It was handy as there isn't much to do in Dargaville; nothing to see, no trails, and no beaches, so having the squash club there was a good little resource to have for some more variety of exercise, and I utilised it a couple of times while I was there.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqssuZu9w5jaNGoi1gVmlVQad7xx73C80Od-7pEoEHtX-EGdyWtJWFDCPwFrtAvdYevh0KIsNvWLZ3LdnoSl0NJhJ4iWwe7dKPvxpeG_Ce_gpbabwuiqF7xFEdNWvzN0N5WpWrwvZbExc/s1600/helensville.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqssuZu9w5jaNGoi1gVmlVQad7xx73C80Od-7pEoEHtX-EGdyWtJWFDCPwFrtAvdYevh0KIsNvWLZ3LdnoSl0NJhJ4iWwe7dKPvxpeG_Ce_gpbabwuiqF7xFEdNWvzN0N5WpWrwvZbExc/s400/helensville.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Looking at the weather forecast, the weather didn't seem too good after a couple of days, so with this in mind, I decided to put in a couple of long days on the bike. I had originally planned to go to the Waiketere ranges, but because of the weather and an outbreak of kauri dieback disease closing much of the park and the campgrounds, I decided to give it a miss and go straight to Auckland to sit out the weather for a day or so.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguPTgH7h05DQWgSw2cVDL1DAHhcrg8BDztQBUCDuvbK0QMaJV8nSdXGDoA4cq4ew3N73mF3bO87DAkQT_9-Z8DMFevSgmuG5VeT-71HkxYagafMbZMtMBETrQkgVhThNFQTuOWAns0jLY/s1600/Auckland+from+Mt+Eden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguPTgH7h05DQWgSw2cVDL1DAHhcrg8BDztQBUCDuvbK0QMaJV8nSdXGDoA4cq4ew3N73mF3bO87DAkQT_9-Z8DMFevSgmuG5VeT-71HkxYagafMbZMtMBETrQkgVhThNFQTuOWAns0jLY/s400/Auckland+from+Mt+Eden.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back to Auckland. This is the view from the top of Mount Eden, a now extinct volcano. I have never been to Auckland on a sunny day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I managed just over 100Km on both days. It doesn't sound much, but on the roads up in the Northland, that was a pretty good effort. Lots and lots of steep climbing, so much so that I don't think I would have managed such a distance a few weeks earlier when I had just arrived. The legs are adapting to their new routine. The Northland had been good training for the stiffer climbs to come, and I do have some big ones planned not too far in the future here in the North Island, not to mention the South Island in a month.<br />
<br />
I now have an unusual route planned through the rest of the North Island, trying to hit many of the places I haven't been before. On paper, the next 2-3 weeks look like the most physically challenging of the trip. Wish me luck.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-54265099845464902082018-09-04T16:08:00.001-07:002018-09-04T16:08:04.690-07:00The Northland Part 1 - Auckland to Paihia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguwYbY42_EPGQVx07HnMa02Ko3ap_bt6JrSxW3tY7XaTQr2v61MhfmKf9xNJrTmdKioyaOpoI7QIrUEFn20lFmQjcIXvqcMshnD9V2VMO-kI0UQ5WdnHiR-yzCB7lT5XwW7oV9ssDVz3g/s1600/Auckland+to+Paihia+Route.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="542" data-original-width="458" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguwYbY42_EPGQVx07HnMa02Ko3ap_bt6JrSxW3tY7XaTQr2v61MhfmKf9xNJrTmdKioyaOpoI7QIrUEFn20lFmQjcIXvqcMshnD9V2VMO-kI0UQ5WdnHiR-yzCB7lT5XwW7oV9ssDVz3g/s400/Auckland+to+Paihia+Route.PNG" width="333" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKOYoP_OTYcwY0jfxdmXbKr1vdrEaFAuZAz0_AKhTLyfhpWsNcWmg6FpZN2W5tHyxEuEncMY_AatlAlosl-trcMCbhhHGGHg67yUnFeWmhHrnR97WSign0w5UNK90lv5gj5TDcrjhO9-w/s1600/Auckland+to+Paihia+Profile.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="118" data-original-width="389" height="118" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKOYoP_OTYcwY0jfxdmXbKr1vdrEaFAuZAz0_AKhTLyfhpWsNcWmg6FpZN2W5tHyxEuEncMY_AatlAlosl-trcMCbhhHGGHg67yUnFeWmhHrnR97WSign0w5UNK90lv5gj5TDcrjhO9-w/s400/Auckland+to+Paihia+Profile.PNG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Over 366Km, 4238m of climbing is quite a lot. A tough start.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
It is been a super-interesting trip so far, and this is the main reason why I am doing a blog after just a week or so in. The cycling is tough going, constantly up and down, but the scenery is more than making up for the effort expended. I've also had lots to do, and enjoying shorter days on the bike.<br />
<br />
The first challenge was getting through Auckland. I arrived from Cairns at an awkward time. I knew there was a possible campsite about 8Km from the airport, but by the time I had put my bike together - at a very handy bike assembly area at Auckland airport - it was already 10pm. After cycling to the camping area and pitching my tent it was nearly 12.30am. I needed to get away very early so I would be able to catch a boat, so that meant only about 4 hours sleep.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8-LnBlMHvut32bwNmbzjnc0Q0pA2lrTrLuEfLs3BZMnYe9kr8u20zC1GMsrPc1LzY_DaXNxH5bUsOIYdC6Xy9NzBHTeYLwzrpNWuJO5orvlECNrdUdetlpDyzhlSHdWSGqHw-kEzRhYs/s1600/Auckland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8-LnBlMHvut32bwNmbzjnc0Q0pA2lrTrLuEfLs3BZMnYe9kr8u20zC1GMsrPc1LzY_DaXNxH5bUsOIYdC6Xy9NzBHTeYLwzrpNWuJO5orvlECNrdUdetlpDyzhlSHdWSGqHw-kEzRhYs/s400/Auckland.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Awesome cycle path on the way into Auckland.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The next morning I had to pick my way through the centre of Auckland. Fortunately, it was a Sunday, so the roads were quiet and there were plenty of bike paths, one in particular being very flash. I made it to the ferry terminal with time to spare.<br />
<br />
I planned to take a ferry to get myself out of the main busy centre of Auckland, as it is not much fun cycling a heavily-loaded bike through city traffic. It wasn't a long ferry ride, about 50 minutes to a place called Gulf Harbour about 30-40Km north of the city. At about $15, it wasn't too expensive and was a nice way to get myself to a good starting point.<br />
<br />
Almost immediately after getting-off the boat, I was confronted by some stiff hills. This was exactly what I was expecting, but it was still a bit of a shock to the system after all the flat riding in Australia, not to mention the lack of sleep.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0MZe4F0szG62NfrQLpa8Ljiq2foVNB4drN7QyiKEu27OXDsiIiT8Uf2QD3oSj6plTS5RYLfQTpXS-GnhoEY6kOAdzsn9LSnnP_J1Jq0baw48pRTdtlPIOAx7dfVAmAm75S7bB4LvDLw4/s1600/Hiking+near+Auckland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0MZe4F0szG62NfrQLpa8Ljiq2foVNB4drN7QyiKEu27OXDsiIiT8Uf2QD3oSj6plTS5RYLfQTpXS-GnhoEY6kOAdzsn9LSnnP_J1Jq0baw48pRTdtlPIOAx7dfVAmAm75S7bB4LvDLw4/s400/Hiking+near+Auckland.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A cloudy day 1 on the bike, but at least it didn't rain.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I felt pretty tired that first day, but I managed to find a regional park to pitch the tent that night. The park was also quite a nice place for a bit of walking and trail running, so I plucked-up the strength to hit the trails. It was a very well-maintained park, with excellent trails that were perfect for running. Despite a slightly dodgy campsite, I managed 9 hours sleep pretty easily after about 50km on the bike and 10Km of trail running.<br />
<br />
The next day, and I was hoping to be able to make it to Waipu caves, not so much because of the caves, but because they also had a free campsite there. The roads were hard work, though, and the state highway 1 was very busy and not much fun to cycle on. It was going to be a stretch to make the 100Km I needed to get to the caves. Luckily, once off the highway, a chap with a little truck offered me a lift. In times gone by, I would have refused, but I saw no problem in letting him help me. He was going to the next town, about 20Km away, which was a nice little boost for me and put the caves back into play for the end of the day.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtPOgIjbFH08Ijf52rLoYDr3JoymSNLF_vyfooU0fU7SROotXnhRsFXNuapluDSBM0T0o_diDPuk3ftNjwWRIOz8tgO2zwpMT6q34MrdQRbuiltWiCE6PfBgcG_hvewJeva9gRjaIPuHY/s1600/Dirt+road+to+waipu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtPOgIjbFH08Ijf52rLoYDr3JoymSNLF_vyfooU0fU7SROotXnhRsFXNuapluDSBM0T0o_diDPuk3ftNjwWRIOz8tgO2zwpMT6q34MrdQRbuiltWiCE6PfBgcG_hvewJeva9gRjaIPuHY/s400/Dirt+road+to+waipu.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tough dirt road section into Waipu caves.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
He introduced himself as, "Col", short for Colin obviously. After a bit of chit-chat, he asked me where I was from and I said Colchester in England. He turned to me and said, "no way!", puzzled I replied and asked if he had been there. He said no, but then told me his surname, which was Chester, so his name was "Col Chester", an amusing little coincidence.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGTD9qNXtCCiixoWufW5_yv1wOPTHoLjucPxyF9rj6MWYxeItt1Ld5IKU0Ss8NYia_m81XZkJgWSehPBLIWoJSvyv-PMaKbjmtw3QxGKh_591BVle6SsJtIoaP4avOD0RZnqksIb4M9ug/s1600/Waipu+caves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGTD9qNXtCCiixoWufW5_yv1wOPTHoLjucPxyF9rj6MWYxeItt1Ld5IKU0Ss8NYia_m81XZkJgWSehPBLIWoJSvyv-PMaKbjmtw3QxGKh_591BVle6SsJtIoaP4avOD0RZnqksIb4M9ug/s400/Waipu+caves.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I still had work to do, though, so after a little bit of sushi in the small town of Manghawai Heads, I had some more climbing to get to the campground at the caves. The last 5Km were hard, as the road became unsealed with some steep climbs. That last 5Km seemed to go on forever, but finally I made it, with some time to explore the caves as well.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXaC3MRKwEhs1tJJbb0N6SW-crsrMGbyVYbocJOzhMe5IT-skC5zod767WtMenkPCDHNGf_lhb895r4wxUs6g3hyphenhyphenLc5D8TSQqtXtIfJ-lcUOhyphenhyphen7sajoSzuXFJjmT97dGGVyGfFV8G7_lY/s1600/Campsite+Waipu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXaC3MRKwEhs1tJJbb0N6SW-crsrMGbyVYbocJOzhMe5IT-skC5zod767WtMenkPCDHNGf_lhb895r4wxUs6g3hyphenhyphenLc5D8TSQqtXtIfJ-lcUOhyphenhyphen7sajoSzuXFJjmT97dGGVyGfFV8G7_lY/s400/Campsite+Waipu.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camping between the limestone casts near the caves.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It was a very basic camping area, a toilet being the only real facilities, but the limestone casts around my tent served me very well. I had bent most of my tent pegs trying to get them into the hard, sun-baked ground in Australia, and one of the casts had a tiny hole that each peg would just fit through. I fed the pegs through the hole and bent each and every one of them back straight. Extremely useful, as those pegs were becoming a bit of a pain in the neck.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7QD6vH86t-RpT7kpFgevafCc9g_Des0a5gj3M6XNyVR0YSfhRyNfv-oxEBZT4FIR4oueZ7BvPNmKapVdAVSTngn4Lw9u30cXCfaWOYIT5JBwrhaqGEUNZasGaKr6DYH9UqTvBNSFBk0M/s1600/Whangarei+Falls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7QD6vH86t-RpT7kpFgevafCc9g_Des0a5gj3M6XNyVR0YSfhRyNfv-oxEBZT4FIR4oueZ7BvPNmKapVdAVSTngn4Lw9u30cXCfaWOYIT5JBwrhaqGEUNZasGaKr6DYH9UqTvBNSFBk0M/s400/Whangarei+Falls.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I was about 35Km away from my first stop of the tour in Whangarei, where I had planned to do some work for a couple of days. I managed to find a hostel right next to Whangarei Falls, just a little out of the centre of town. After settling-in, I wandered down to see the falls. Much to my surprise, especially being so close to town, the falls were spectacular.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3zwvuD4rJNd5ZNJ0nhA-sqQj1UjZIf3z5xcaz14Tmk3ziPKiLEV-l4GYhU09bT-zbENjFx5lRBYhO8sv5NDIjJgAvE9ZLpkBxupPzfemRezMNRv1jhqtnp4Q1YhUnvu7SqhKw-aipIMQ/s1600/Whangarei+falls+bridge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3zwvuD4rJNd5ZNJ0nhA-sqQj1UjZIf3z5xcaz14Tmk3ziPKiLEV-l4GYhU09bT-zbENjFx5lRBYhO8sv5NDIjJgAvE9ZLpkBxupPzfemRezMNRv1jhqtnp4Q1YhUnvu7SqhKw-aipIMQ/s400/Whangarei+falls+bridge.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The walk down to the falls was about all I could manage for the rest of the day, as I was truly spent. The first 3 days or so of bike tours are always some of the toughest because your body is fighting the extreme demands you are placing on it. Things usually start get progressively easier, physically, after that (although it is always very hard). Back in 2016, it took about a month for my legs to really get to grips with all the hills and mountains, but once they had, I felt incredibly strong on the bike and my legs were like tree trunks.<br />
<br />
It rained heavily overnight, so I was pretty glad to be inside and not camping. I once had a discussion online with a fellow bicycle-tourer who said New Zealand was one of her worst tours; the reason being she had camped almost every single night. To me, camping can be a miserable business if you are in a country where it rains regularly. New Zealand is best done on about 50% camping, in my opinion, trying to avoid the regular soaking if possible, and especially if you like to go out of season at times when the weather is more unpredictable. No one likes being constantly cold and wet.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4cybTFQztYZ8i3NAhVK_yP7bskU1jpzNYsaRa9qGYHJJ7Vaz6gSF4k0R473mIatT11cpBjNtOwt1OG03FHMZt2o679UKhvI6mUBm8QqzMwdmPvK71JOnYRwYws3ubOhz9YMB1TnoxZ1E/s1600/running.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4cybTFQztYZ8i3NAhVK_yP7bskU1jpzNYsaRa9qGYHJJ7Vaz6gSF4k0R473mIatT11cpBjNtOwt1OG03FHMZt2o679UKhvI6mUBm8QqzMwdmPvK71JOnYRwYws3ubOhz9YMB1TnoxZ1E/s400/running.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Running alongside the river.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Despite the heavy rain overnight, the clouds cleared very early, which meant that I had to do a bit of trail running. The hostel was not only close to the falls, but also to a network of trails which linked to another waterfall, and to a track going up the mountain alongside the town. I wasn't sure how I'd feel, so I had originally planned just a 6Km round-trip to the other falls and back, but the weather was so nice that I did the complete circuit up to the lookout on the mountain and back along the river to the hostel, about 17Km in all. A great run; waterfalls, great views, and lush forest, all on a well-maintained track, superb for running.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuZh3FacUIEz7Lm96Z5eZRmaKDBJC8-GRiPpAb-fV0VwtUw4zQJGzWH4-gDKgyuDW2-0W1-5sPpqjxm7xual72b_68w13GXzsiwTy7WrsWNvLRpmFFN0cSJRmnwQ-6s23jN1PXdkit_6Y/s1600/Me+and+view+of+Whangarei.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuZh3FacUIEz7Lm96Z5eZRmaKDBJC8-GRiPpAb-fV0VwtUw4zQJGzWH4-gDKgyuDW2-0W1-5sPpqjxm7xual72b_68w13GXzsiwTy7WrsWNvLRpmFFN0cSJRmnwQ-6s23jN1PXdkit_6Y/s400/Me+and+view+of+Whangarei.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the top. An enjoyable trail run with Whangarei in the background.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The next day I did what my body was telling me to do, and that was have a good rest. The following day I had to be up extremely early so I could cycle the 23Km to Tutukaka by 7.30am. I had to be there early because I had arranged a day of scuba diving at Poor Knights Islands, considered one of the finest sub-tropical dives in the world.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4l_uO8IjtP-fgSvgDSVE-KoOMBn2hadnRTpJCmCdXwqyA93dQitOZStDokzm3M95HbTZB5xTAg9vy_laH5AEYMgVDBbQ6YqX-qamnGDSIf1mLAuLKP40kjLpfRv5DK_5oa7hl0iYd8zk/s1600/Tutukaka+sunrise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4l_uO8IjtP-fgSvgDSVE-KoOMBn2hadnRTpJCmCdXwqyA93dQitOZStDokzm3M95HbTZB5xTAg9vy_laH5AEYMgVDBbQ6YqX-qamnGDSIf1mLAuLKP40kjLpfRv5DK_5oa7hl0iYd8zk/s400/Tutukaka+sunrise.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I got there with plenty of time to spare, and even stumbled across a cool lookout just as the sun was coming up, with superb views of the coast around Tutukaka..<br />
<br />
It was about 50 minutes to the Islands, on a much smaller boat than I was accustomed to in Cairns. The islands we so-named because, approaching them from the south, Captain Cook saw their shape and thought they resembled the position a knight is put into upon his death. Poor knights weren't buried, but they were laid to rest on their backs with their sword and shield on their chest. Have a look at the picture below and see what you think.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgri1l90agjf8j9e6gEGPbvH4lPS5z1Y3lrzboohu9tRMg3jE2NZTXtVB14mxsopIwYKp8IZpILv13uhULLy43HczjgZnjduONNWXBUrRa9KzfHC_hjasTxwmTpr8DSLPAol0106jFwTYg/s1600/Poor+Knight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgri1l90agjf8j9e6gEGPbvH4lPS5z1Y3lrzboohu9tRMg3jE2NZTXtVB14mxsopIwYKp8IZpILv13uhULLy43HczjgZnjduONNWXBUrRa9KzfHC_hjasTxwmTpr8DSLPAol0106jFwTYg/s400/Poor+Knight.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A dead knight lying on his back?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
There were only 4 of us diving; one Kiwi from Auckland, the dive instructor and his friend from England (who was also a dive instructor, living in the Cayman Islands), and me. They were all really nice guys, actually, so it was an enjoyable day-out. The other two with us were the skipper and a photographer just doing his own thing. He apparently does a lot of work for National Geographic and dived separately from us taking pictures with a very fancy camera, similar to the one they used to take the fantastic photos underwater on the Great Barrier Reef.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilUNsqjyXp6ahPFUku4xvT70_Df0yP8ILaXNtuwlViDFL1EHpYmQRqRzCcO4YW2yik60qItu18HVfVv1Eme-Qz2Uh973uxI63pDHhFOaMbSmhc1g_UH5CNBd5TWAGEEALOAAGQbHjFk4g/s1600/Poor+Knights+scuba.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilUNsqjyXp6ahPFUku4xvT70_Df0yP8ILaXNtuwlViDFL1EHpYmQRqRzCcO4YW2yik60qItu18HVfVv1Eme-Qz2Uh973uxI63pDHhFOaMbSmhc1g_UH5CNBd5TWAGEEALOAAGQbHjFk4g/s400/Poor+Knights+scuba.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
At the Great Barrier Reef, the water temperature was about 25 degrees, warm enough for just a thin, legless and sleeveless wetsuit, but here it was about 10 degrees cooler at a very nippy 15 degrees, so a thick 7mm wetsuit with hood was needed. Indeed, the dive intstructor and the cameraman even dived in dry-suits to combat the cold. It was quite a shock when entering the water, but the wetsuit did its job and I wasn't too cold.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDnZndJVNairWXMgVl6_c2oXUn_jbNKqzfEpZMW1bACA0kCg8g-0RpeaDXPVV0kjDWYE2P92dJSc0TMsG9t3eSheeFrcvX3RREGKW7mX6lyU30f0BD4iOM1DRtsGBKRBMJyiNV6XTLx3Y/s1600/Poor+Knights+Islandsd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDnZndJVNairWXMgVl6_c2oXUn_jbNKqzfEpZMW1bACA0kCg8g-0RpeaDXPVV0kjDWYE2P92dJSc0TMsG9t3eSheeFrcvX3RREGKW7mX6lyU30f0BD4iOM1DRtsGBKRBMJyiNV6XTLx3Y/s400/Poor+Knights+Islandsd.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
It was an interesting couple of dives, and very different to diving on coral reefs, but just as colourful. Instead of coral, there were sponges, rocks, and kelp. Tucked between it all was life everywhere; large stingrays, scorpion fish, an incredible variety of eels, lots of nudibranchs, sea urchins, and huge shoals of fish.<br />
<br />
At one point, we found our way into a cave, which we then ascended up into. I ascended right through the middle of a big shoal of fish then promptly bumped my head on the roof of the cave in an air pocket that was actually 8 metres below the surface. We all surfaced in there and had a chat before moving on.<br />
<br />
The next dive was more challenging, with plenty of current and surge, which meant being pushed and pulled around underwater. After all the diving I had done just a couple of weeks previously, however, I felt really comfortable underwater, despite the foreign surroundings and tricky conditions.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjScN6_F_0vCAe4Dfl77ZBkDqDX2jbnjf0c7GgZzqPd7w1gySDo_yTMg-SOeyxOeSR-db7SX_rjkjL-TB4uUX8TMGovYWVV56H2k0yBn7VbPqC-eg4G2i6opAgShONGOaENAdkLD8H5BvM/s1600/Trevally+feeding+frenzy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjScN6_F_0vCAe4Dfl77ZBkDqDX2jbnjf0c7GgZzqPd7w1gySDo_yTMg-SOeyxOeSR-db7SX_rjkjL-TB4uUX8TMGovYWVV56H2k0yBn7VbPqC-eg4G2i6opAgShONGOaENAdkLD8H5BvM/s400/Trevally+feeding+frenzy.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A massive shoal of trevally having a feeding frenzy causing the white water.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It was a top day out, and the skipper took us through some of the caves and arches on the way back. Shoals of fish were feeding on the surface of the water, gannets were dive-bombing into the water after the fish, and seals were relaxing on the rocks. Good company, great diving, and loads of wildlife, what more could I have asked for?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsFx65l42hGf5fdOZyby-RuCMV6BYKlRrmm2lWc5DjXUzjEVHbvQnTEU01hJmZGQi6sQRgBbzeQOVjRh7JJOiP8KUKVkdeMr5l5KFFHLwqOaVgatTtDUR840AuqkDtUnpsE5G0P9OPLhA/s1600/Arch+Poor+Knights.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsFx65l42hGf5fdOZyby-RuCMV6BYKlRrmm2lWc5DjXUzjEVHbvQnTEU01hJmZGQi6sQRgBbzeQOVjRh7JJOiP8KUKVkdeMr5l5KFFHLwqOaVgatTtDUR840AuqkDtUnpsE5G0P9OPLhA/s400/Arch+Poor+Knights.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
Despite feeling a little weary, I did manage a quick walk out to the lighthouse before setting-off for my campsite. Another scenic walk highlighted just how much I had fit in over the first few days of the trip. It sometimes amazes me just how much there is to do here in New Zealand for someone who loves the great outdoors. There is surely no better place in the world for outdoor adventure activities.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxvKyP1jdZ5Sc7PemzPzOXUGGikDK2ZnceFfqSxpEWvqmF8Mzrxw0s3rHwvSeLr_-xDPumYm0Rhffm4gDjPBRPl1eGKhhbpOHg4csg0JKguewmjFk41rOmWxJV3a3CEeUbp_QZyhGjjpQ/s1600/Tutukaka+coast+me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxvKyP1jdZ5Sc7PemzPzOXUGGikDK2ZnceFfqSxpEWvqmF8Mzrxw0s3rHwvSeLr_-xDPumYm0Rhffm4gDjPBRPl1eGKhhbpOHg4csg0JKguewmjFk41rOmWxJV3a3CEeUbp_QZyhGjjpQ/s400/Tutukaka+coast+me.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I was enjoying the shorter days on the bike. The time spent on the bike was still very hard, with very steep climbs around almost every corner. Since Auckland, I have hardly cycled on a flat bit of road. I have either been in the granny gears or just freewheeling, not pedaling at all. Because of all the climbing, even 40-60Km certainly registers with my body at the end of the day. It is wonderful not having to push too hard into misery territory though, as I did so much in Australia.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjme6O1R0pIxIiGxQcA63aO5Uegqvsf1SwDaSg3TmAj06ZF6yMYNi1bYP5a79r4n6XvmMPWhq7U55KNFH-SyaznZUKrhfFcCJKYBVSNRBCBv7wkNXvsBskAZkin8455isjjRXUyDsHS_Wg/s1600/Helena+Bay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjme6O1R0pIxIiGxQcA63aO5Uegqvsf1SwDaSg3TmAj06ZF6yMYNi1bYP5a79r4n6XvmMPWhq7U55KNFH-SyaznZUKrhfFcCJKYBVSNRBCBv7wkNXvsBskAZkin8455isjjRXUyDsHS_Wg/s400/Helena+Bay.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">About 20 or so houses in this quaint little bay.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The next day was more of the same on the bike; up and down, dropping into, what seemed like smaller and smaller towns. I stopped at one of these little communities for lunch, a place called Helena Bay. It was a picture-perfect tiny town in a gorgeous bay.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtj9OUHE83RzjIMXbVVWMBYaar15nb7MBwp0YTWLgibxz6IOXIKhi-nXyEStUqEYb7qC8C-PCtZgsDsdiZRX95l47mT5Y82SteAJjDDXf3AyCWFoQBLo6dgDntGVYBA0Z6-QxgCuBCd1Q/s1600/Farm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtj9OUHE83RzjIMXbVVWMBYaar15nb7MBwp0YTWLgibxz6IOXIKhi-nXyEStUqEYb7qC8C-PCtZgsDsdiZRX95l47mT5Y82SteAJjDDXf3AyCWFoQBLo6dgDntGVYBA0Z6-QxgCuBCd1Q/s400/Farm.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I had set-off earlier that day hoping I'd find somewhere to camp by the end of the day. Freedom camping can be a tricky business in New Zealand with so much private land fenced-off, and everywhere else often too densely forested. Eventually, I stumbled upon a farm offering tent sites for $15. Included were warm showers, wifi, a kitchen, and a comfortable sofa to chill-out on. That was good enough for me.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic4PpClt93SHMbnTjsUchDB5OApXuFmZwZpFvpQgwn7baGDAV4J3plFJKjS6IZUvUZpMJ1ftRj6P2YI9Ncx_M8SXwP4JCD8-jstjU1UUym-RkuuryCpvisQfRNDNH8QTSkZSOXjrg3tT4/s1600/Farm+sunrise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic4PpClt93SHMbnTjsUchDB5OApXuFmZwZpFvpQgwn7baGDAV4J3plFJKjS6IZUvUZpMJ1ftRj6P2YI9Ncx_M8SXwP4JCD8-jstjU1UUym-RkuuryCpvisQfRNDNH8QTSkZSOXjrg3tT4/s400/Farm+sunrise.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The next day, I had only about 45Km to cycle to get to Paihia and a few days rest. Looking at the profile of the road on Google, it didn't look too bad, as there were no climbs higher than about 70m. I didn't however, factor-in just how frequently these climbs occurred and just how steep they were (have a look at the profile below). The problem of very steep climbs is that they push your body to it's lactate threshold; have this happen again and again, and it causes quite a lot of fatigue, more so than very long, steady climbs that might look harder on paper. This is the kind of road that really takes it out of you physically, and mentally it is hard too, as you are confronted with climb after climb after climb, wondering when the torture will finally stop.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9AGWOonEE9iuiolgkoAcR9gYSOecmN10mupt2Ne8TGlrHu_CY0qIqxYLkB2pQaZ-kDskko9_huMaM_KFGnyk3p5udpUekefGIPQVwTcYaREUzLStFTa_UfY1bUVnnVFvk_bBwzxD2c1E/s1600/Secret+road+profile.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="112" data-original-width="383" height="116" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9AGWOonEE9iuiolgkoAcR9gYSOecmN10mupt2Ne8TGlrHu_CY0qIqxYLkB2pQaZ-kDskko9_huMaM_KFGnyk3p5udpUekefGIPQVwTcYaREUzLStFTa_UfY1bUVnnVFvk_bBwzxD2c1E/s400/Secret+road+profile.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I made it to Paihia and checked-in to a very cheap hostel, an absolute bargain at just $20 a night. Paihia is the launching pad for a lot of tourist experiences in the Bay of Islands. However, it really is a summer destination with lots of bays, swimming, and other water activities. For this reason, it was extremely quiet at the hostel and in the town itself. I had a room to myself and pretty much every trail in the area as well. This is one of the reasons I enjoy coming to New Zealand out of season. Yes, I have to put up with some inclement weather sometimes, but my reward is that I can rock-up to places and know there is a bed for me, and when I go out, I have the majesty of the surroundings to myself (plus I can be a bit unsociable sometimes).<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfc0tqUM3KVnc8p9UADdoISvNAWdwLcFizzaL6tIKz9568X3UvqTE1mqCSCoLgkurCENW_7M-3xsCUkzZg1gwElqOmeFCgNxeFWwZjJS6Uw5WqRRJYIVQ1-1cAuOQmqusEFskDymT0Oa0/s1600/Paihia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfc0tqUM3KVnc8p9UADdoISvNAWdwLcFizzaL6tIKz9568X3UvqTE1mqCSCoLgkurCENW_7M-3xsCUkzZg1gwElqOmeFCgNxeFWwZjJS6Uw5WqRRJYIVQ1-1cAuOQmqusEFskDymT0Oa0/s400/Paihia.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Paihia shoreline.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<b>Trail Running</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
One of my goals on this tour was to get back into trail running. I find I get extremely bored of road running and it also seems to aggravate my ankles. On the trails, though, I get no pain whatsoever; all the changing angles and strides is much better for my joints, I think, which I need to watch as I come worryingly close to 40. I also find I run better than I walk (hear me out). The heel striking I do when I walk means that sometimes I feel my right hip after a long day of walking, and hip problems not only run in my family, but are also common in the main sport I have played most of my life, squash. After trail running, on the other hand, my body feels fantastic with no complaints at all.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirf0je3GAz35U8z_pr95zNJV3ao0X18FAf0WB5c21LACzOW9WcMmu0lwNHdkqp4DHgM3FvesoXsEiP6boYhy4or2a98zNXWdAY5xX52lEvyAdS-ivRDSltJiiKi-G6nYeqeK-pmJrQQxQ/s1600/run+through+the+mangroves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirf0je3GAz35U8z_pr95zNJV3ao0X18FAf0WB5c21LACzOW9WcMmu0lwNHdkqp4DHgM3FvesoXsEiP6boYhy4or2a98zNXWdAY5xX52lEvyAdS-ivRDSltJiiKi-G6nYeqeK-pmJrQQxQ/s400/run+through+the+mangroves.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Running through the mangroves.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So far on tour, I have managed trail runs of 10Km (<a href="https://www.freewalks.nz/auckland/wenderholm-regional-park-beach-walk/map">Wenderholm Regional Park</a>), 17Km (Whangarei), and 20Km (Paihia) over about a ten-day period. In the temperatures at the current time of year, 20Km is about the maximum distance I can go without bringing any water with me, and I am not sure I really want to go much further than that anyway (I would also start needing to carry some food if I went much further).<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfzNM9MgpQYEU1EAcuoU_K5eLBEWArOw0O134KAceZPOJ0mVxsNkwsCenHWqwk9lO_sMRMyQRqxvBVWVBCN4Y-iveQxXydNrYm2PrUHpqUu-LFUm5hAL-KaChBqyBj8aa8FM5ZUO9czj0/s1600/A+nice+street+in+Opua.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="716" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfzNM9MgpQYEU1EAcuoU_K5eLBEWArOw0O134KAceZPOJ0mVxsNkwsCenHWqwk9lO_sMRMyQRqxvBVWVBCN4Y-iveQxXydNrYm2PrUHpqUu-LFUm5hAL-KaChBqyBj8aa8FM5ZUO9czj0/s400/A+nice+street+in+Opua.jpg" width="295" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A nice street on a short road section between trails.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Trail running is a great way to get into nature and cover some ground at the same time, plus it makes you super-strong and fit. I take my phone with me also and end up taking some great pictures.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ2X3Z3mDfnsSoIksGXU8siWgO4rnekP24RE77Zk8cKJUiZHSeDzoupIGk83jZ5godzZL6ns5cfFu3LN7407cqwaQVcrMc9-7wiaX7TtlJDXRIILzXRD6SWNIR-GK5N6vWc0g33mMAU-w/s1600/Top+of+the+track+Paihia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ2X3Z3mDfnsSoIksGXU8siWgO4rnekP24RE77Zk8cKJUiZHSeDzoupIGk83jZ5godzZL6ns5cfFu3LN7407cqwaQVcrMc9-7wiaX7TtlJDXRIILzXRD6SWNIR-GK5N6vWc0g33mMAU-w/s400/Top+of+the+track+Paihia.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view through the trees at the end of the Oromahoe Traverse track.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The big 20Km run in Paihia saw me take the trail up into the mountains and run along the ridge on a trail called the Oromahoe Traverse, then along a dirt road that eventually led down to the walk from Opua back to Paihia along the bay. A fantastic run on a beautiful morning. The mornings have mostly been sunny thus far here in the Northland.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBsj0IAYyBlA4jhs_90XKQJ_64OxrvToH2FFSW1KMFAvi9WGdCxi3nbO0S4pPOBxjb50t3ug7vbJ_nuZ5AqziSRQI8820UH4hWI09AI3uEBtVUOva-5vKsEZgtG-WzS2HMLjdtYOvYJTM/s1600/Opua+dock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBsj0IAYyBlA4jhs_90XKQJ_64OxrvToH2FFSW1KMFAvi9WGdCxi3nbO0S4pPOBxjb50t3ug7vbJ_nuZ5AqziSRQI8820UH4hWI09AI3uEBtVUOva-5vKsEZgtG-WzS2HMLjdtYOvYJTM/s400/Opua+dock.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The dock at Opua, just after taking the ferry across from Okiato.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
On one of the walks I did along the river in Paihia to Haruru Falls, I saw something very interesting. I noticed a girl walking towards me on the track and saw her jump, letting-out a mini-scream. I then saw what looked like a squirrel running-away from a rabbit carcass. She asked me what is was, but I wasn't sure. As I was talking to her, I figured-out that is must have been a stoat and that we had disturbed it in the middle of taking its kill to its burrow.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLlgAPvAh-98BfDBVy4nb0eCq1UgrO1O3bkUVX2oGPKEPa1P0pHRbTwCdkOkvNFv2OOAfyYpyY26TDOBPl-NPxc4OTE2mivxcImZsLKA4rvjsfM7nsnN6jf0u0UHxT2s3HatW1XYvVC8w/s1600/Mangrove+channel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLlgAPvAh-98BfDBVy4nb0eCq1UgrO1O3bkUVX2oGPKEPa1P0pHRbTwCdkOkvNFv2OOAfyYpyY26TDOBPl-NPxc4OTE2mivxcImZsLKA4rvjsfM7nsnN6jf0u0UHxT2s3HatW1XYvVC8w/s400/Mangrove+channel.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Stoats and rabbits are pests in New Zealand. Rabbits were introduced by Europeans in the 1870s as a source of meat and for hunting, then the stoats were introduced to control the rabbits, so I guess this stoat I came across was doing its job. However, stoats don't just stop at rabbits, they will kill native birds, especially the ones that don't fly and nest on the ground. They are a real threat to native species, so attempts to control them often make headline news in New Zealand - as New Zealand is also very bereft of the usual bad news topics of other countries.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQqscqVc6P5I4PK9eEQ-R5jcWyHOKSUBhSB15ZLz-BQlhsVfDvaQYJM-_Mp60Yv2yZMG5CsZql6IaLjpARowO-mQ1LjV2lqvTxyXdYXydyuqfqV_lq5dyZRw5lb_Q3aUDtpCnGDQPpyPI/s1600/Tree+on+shoreline+Paihia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQqscqVc6P5I4PK9eEQ-R5jcWyHOKSUBhSB15ZLz-BQlhsVfDvaQYJM-_Mp60Yv2yZMG5CsZql6IaLjpARowO-mQ1LjV2lqvTxyXdYXydyuqfqV_lq5dyZRw5lb_Q3aUDtpCnGDQPpyPI/s400/Tree+on+shoreline+Paihia.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I wasn't 100% sure it was a stoat, though, so after the girl left, I figured the stoat would come back after its kill, so I quietly hid and waited to see if it returned. Sure enough, it only took about one minute and it came back. It was definitely a stoat, and it was probably about 5 or 6 times smaller than the rabbit it killed. What really amazed me was how easily it carried the rabbit away and up a the bank next to the trail, it was as if it was running without the rabbit in its mouth, it wasn't struggling at all. Strong little guys, and pretty cute too, despite being exceptionally efficient hunters. What a nuisance they are in New Zealand, a kiwi wouldn't stand a chance.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdDnLZmFsfjLueyGFGU_bhKlbWpvgyq_UKTv32__NTlxYzP0Lea9ACsWvzK6b0xZwtfdPf8BZt1bY9XJ9ZOU4YDFBbb-72cCogdyYRwijYy2hBYCgXW6yiww-nmnHwp8-IIBhGjw0cUb0/s1600/Paihia+Shore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdDnLZmFsfjLueyGFGU_bhKlbWpvgyq_UKTv32__NTlxYzP0Lea9ACsWvzK6b0xZwtfdPf8BZt1bY9XJ9ZOU4YDFBbb-72cCogdyYRwijYy2hBYCgXW6yiww-nmnHwp8-IIBhGjw0cUb0/s400/Paihia+Shore.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
As I have mentioned in previous blogs about New Zealand, it always exceeds my expectations. I think nature has a way of doing this anyway. I am always struck by the beauty of my surroundings when I am on tour, and New Zealand especially, it never disappoints and I never get tired of it. The Northland wasn't even an area of New Zealand I was particularly looking-forward to, but seeing as I had the time and I hadn't been there, I thought I should do. Well, I'm glad I did so far, it's been a great start to this 4 month long tour.<br />
<br />Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-11889453125936523942018-08-24T00:36:00.000-07:002018-08-24T00:36:13.261-07:00The Plan for New Zealand 2018<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUAxn7iJIX-qXztkGW2aU7cdi1iB8hkg7KbZIfZ3qRg2WIIUYg-XlFGWA_YDICmTWQ9xydTiCDQ1UJJ3mSe9VRUyy6i5n-vfKh3xoCgKsZGee5593OeZ4hum0XY_tmWERHX-8h6dNahlY/s1600/NZ+Pic+2016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1080" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUAxn7iJIX-qXztkGW2aU7cdi1iB8hkg7KbZIfZ3qRg2WIIUYg-XlFGWA_YDICmTWQ9xydTiCDQ1UJJ3mSe9VRUyy6i5n-vfKh3xoCgKsZGee5593OeZ4hum0XY_tmWERHX-8h6dNahlY/s400/NZ+Pic+2016.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why wouldn't you want to go back here?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I absolutely loved spending time in Cairns, it is paradise up here and I'll miss seeing the wallabies in the garden every day, but time for a change of scenery and back to my favourite country in the world, New Zealand.<br />
<br />
I have toured New Zealand twice before, which you can read all about on this blog. The first time was an epic 2 and a half month trip through the North Island and all around the South Island, and the second trip was a two-week tour down the West coast of the North Island, taking in Taranaki and Cape Palliser before returning back to Melbourne from Wellington.<br />
<br />
I really can't get enough of this place, and there is plenty I haven't seen of it. A wise man once told me that the best way to travel is not to superficially go from place to place scratching the surface, but to really get to know somewhere. I do intend to live in New Zealand at some point in the future, I love the place, but before I do, I really want to get to know every nook and cranny of these two beautiful islands. This is not to say I'm finished with Australia; I have lived here for 4 years, visited every state, yet there is still so much more I want to see and do here also. Fortunately, a permanent visa in Australia allows me to live in New Zealand, so I can have the best of both worlds.<br />
<br />
With each and every tour I do, I am fine-tuning the art of cycle touring and travelling in general to best suit me. I learnt a lot from this tour in Australia, and I am trying to drastically cut down on my daily distances. I won't be taking it easy, though, part of the reason for this is so I have time for trail running, games of squash, hiking, and some other activities also. Working online also is added time pressure and restricts how flexible I can be if the weather is not kind to me (this was an absolute killer with the long distances into the wind in Australia), so I want to take some of the stress off myself a bit.<br />
<br />
The first part of this tour sees me spending about a month in the Northland. I have never been to this region of New Zealand. This is the Maori cultural capital of New Zealand and home to beautiful bays, beaches, and islands. The main highlight of this first leg for me is scuba diving in Poor Knights Island. I'll be there at the end of Winter, but I hear it can be dived in a wet suit all year round because of warm ocean currents.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSAoV3uZ_NpFONOzfITv_86nfcP5svehAZiARFEyLt-ghyphenhyphenSSxZD9f-ElIy-cYEMi4nxh8x8m1kZdCVxapyLKp45SvJAImDD8DYRbzb7ICYOvHSjr2p_Ty3xLiXx_axcBOKEcOY-ccPZVo/s1600/Northland+Section.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="615" data-original-width="761" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSAoV3uZ_NpFONOzfITv_86nfcP5svehAZiARFEyLt-ghyphenhyphenSSxZD9f-ElIy-cYEMi4nxh8x8m1kZdCVxapyLKp45SvJAImDD8DYRbzb7ICYOvHSjr2p_Ty3xLiXx_axcBOKEcOY-ccPZVo/s400/Northland+Section.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl6eIY6VZITGf89R-ByrFAX7JTESXqWe29dbV0wMADfTxkwPB63U1z-xRBOBoMETLxG2kI9iXCNooRy5y6bgNZuB6Rt_ixyBut1wnWEqc7jl6-yx-2HDaH2uoH6Z5HwVSTT-cVvWrkdTg/s1600/Northland+Profile.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="174" data-original-width="391" height="175" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl6eIY6VZITGf89R-ByrFAX7JTESXqWe29dbV0wMADfTxkwPB63U1z-xRBOBoMETLxG2kI9iXCNooRy5y6bgNZuB6Rt_ixyBut1wnWEqc7jl6-yx-2HDaH2uoH6Z5HwVSTT-cVvWrkdTg/s400/Northland+Profile.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
As you can see from the above route, I won't be cycling all the way up to Cape Reinga, but I might choose to do so, or grab a lift up there, it just depends how I feel, the weather, and my progress. On this trip I haven't set myself any 100Km+ days. I have scheduled mostly between 40-80Km on each day, a huge difference from my recent tour in Australia and completely different from any other tour I have done so far. It is likely though, that bad weather will force me into doing the occasional very big day, while I rest-up when it pours down on others. On my last two tours in New Zealand, the rain came down heavily on many occasions, but I managed things pretty well. I need to set aside time for this inevitability.<br />
<br />
Stage two of this tour sees me taking a different route through the main part of the North Island from the previous two journeys here. There are a couple of sections that remain the same, but the vast majority follows a completely different route. Some route highlights for me are passing by Wairere Falls, cycling the desert road, and hopefully passing through Manuwatu Gorge, something I couldn't do last time because of a landslide.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH-LCWiuaiM8emRhUjTO8BBKq1Pwgi4p96gnq1VHwM-pNqnIyQf2u-lHzcv1i54oB_LE4IvVe19FEPVXNkIkTKVpoLqQObUs2Rr_OL5SIS-z0OfZV3n5OyZ_tvZU1rm7sWuEDcXxE26_c/s1600/North+Island+stage+2.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="614" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH-LCWiuaiM8emRhUjTO8BBKq1Pwgi4p96gnq1VHwM-pNqnIyQf2u-lHzcv1i54oB_LE4IvVe19FEPVXNkIkTKVpoLqQObUs2Rr_OL5SIS-z0OfZV3n5OyZ_tvZU1rm7sWuEDcXxE26_c/s400/North+Island+stage+2.PNG" width="382" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDfDLf1MGT1vpsr8B-7ooQpNTuc0d2z45pjnVN0RvaQVQLHez1nomqTrxyvRjndTPR1emrH0Vk94_OxJXs-L6fVNFdgCXZTrminKxd4a-zmtninFuD1ETOKcWcnSn0jtRFGNxIcMwMEkw/s1600/North+Island+stage+2+profile.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="158" data-original-width="388" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDfDLf1MGT1vpsr8B-7ooQpNTuc0d2z45pjnVN0RvaQVQLHez1nomqTrxyvRjndTPR1emrH0Vk94_OxJXs-L6fVNFdgCXZTrminKxd4a-zmtninFuD1ETOKcWcnSn0jtRFGNxIcMwMEkw/s400/North+Island+stage+2+profile.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
I know from experience that the cycling in the North Island of New Zealand is super-tough. The South Island has the higher peaks and longer climbs, but the North is extremely up and down. Even fairly short days are physically arduous and this showed on my last big tour to New Zealand because despite more rest time and shorter days on the bike, my legs were noticeably bigger towards the end in a way I have never noticed from my long cycling days in Australia.<br />
<br />
On to the South Island then, truly the most beautiful place I have visited yet, so I am really looking forward to going back there.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCjuYhkNag4fOK2nXkaLq-jVENfjhp3jfXxtFe94Qw5uOBs4lxdeMgO4iAqJP4EJUserumlU2Ooppu0HhK_JDDNwI9U17HL2somc2GCbsz5TniobGdmht5dAe65WBJOva6COmtv8708Cs/s1600/South+Island+Section.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="459" data-original-width="491" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCjuYhkNag4fOK2nXkaLq-jVENfjhp3jfXxtFe94Qw5uOBs4lxdeMgO4iAqJP4EJUserumlU2Ooppu0HhK_JDDNwI9U17HL2somc2GCbsz5TniobGdmht5dAe65WBJOva6COmtv8708Cs/s400/South+Island+Section.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7F4AGVsxkUYVFS3g09TCnUcflGuog7WAXMlyR6J_UrsHjPfZUVFrmwmcNlgpK70JyBauDPJIXaBoSxmTk_eSQ1pE0qc0jULvtcdVblR3BCSAzzD80ajFThs96WR7acyiapTaKZ1UI4C8/s1600/South+Island+Profile.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="157" data-original-width="385" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7F4AGVsxkUYVFS3g09TCnUcflGuog7WAXMlyR6J_UrsHjPfZUVFrmwmcNlgpK70JyBauDPJIXaBoSxmTk_eSQ1pE0qc0jULvtcdVblR3BCSAzzD80ajFThs96WR7acyiapTaKZ1UI4C8/s400/South+Island+Profile.PNG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I will not miss out the West coast of the South Island, I will hire a car for this with Eunji.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
With so few roads on the South Island, it is inevitable that I am going to have to do some of the same routes as 2016, but in the South Island of New Zealand, this isn't much of a problem as most of the roads are beautiful. Last time, bad weather forced me out of visiting the Nelson Lakes National Park and this is my first target this time around. After a few days hiking there, I make my way to Greymouth on the West coast, before the testing climb up to Arthurs Pass, keeping my fingers-crossed for good weather as this should be a spectacular ride with some splendid hiking once at Arthurs Pass Village.<br />
<br />
After Arthurs Pass, I make my way down towards Christchurch, then turn South and following the same route as last time all the way to Queenstown, passing Lake Tekapo, Mount Cook, the Lindis Pass, and Wanaka along the way (this isn't a bad route to do twice).<br />
<br />
Once in Queenstown, the plan is to hire a car with Eunji, as she'll be joining me for a couple of weeks to see some of the most spectacular places in New Zealand on the West coast, including Milford Sound, Fox and Franz Josef Glaciers, and Glenorchy. I visited these places before, but they are well worth a second look, and in Milford Sound this time I have plans to go underwater and explore the depths as well. It is possible to scuba dive Milford Sound, and apparently it is a bit of a freaky dive. A cold layer of freshwater sits in the first 10 metres or so of water, and is full of tannins washed into the sound from the trees. At this point, you can hardly see anything, but as you hit the salt water layer the visibility is supposed to be incredible, with some unusual reef formations and animals, including the possibility of seeing penguins and dolphins. It promises to be quite a unique dive experience, and is one of the highlights of this tour. Not sure how the dive works with the weather though. Usually rain ruins dives because it washes silt and debris into the water causing bad visibility, and with this part of New Zealand being the wettest place in the country (on an already wet island), I don't quite know what to expect.<br />
<br />
After the extended stay in Queenstown, and hiring a car to explore the West coast with Eunji, I plan to visit the Catlins via Invercargill, although I have left this section flexible and might just head straight to Dunedin if I am short on time. After a few days here, I'll make my way back up the East coast towards Christchurch and my flight back home to England. This is the plan, but it will likely change due to weather and last-minute unforeseen circumstances. As the saying goes, it isn't a true adventure if everything goes to plan.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Planned Tour Schedule</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>North Island</b><br />
<br />
Auckland to Whangarei - 143Km (3 days - Aug 26th - 28th)<br />
Whangarei - 2 days of working. (Aug 29-30)<br />
Whangarei to Tutukaka and diving to Pahia - 40Km then 90Km - 4 days (Aug 31st to Sept 3rd)<br />
Pahia - 2 days of working (Sept 4th -5th)<br />
Pahia to Kaitaia - 118Km (2 days - Sept 6th -7th)<br />
Kaitaia - 3 days of working (Sept 8th -10th)<br />
Kaitaia to Dargaville - 170Km (3 days - Sept 11th - 13th)<br />
Dargaville - 2 days of working (Sept 14th - 15th)<br />
Dargaville - Kitekite falls - Auckland - 250Km (5 days - Sept 16th - 20th)<br />
<br />
Auckland - 2 days working (Sept 21st - 22nd)<br />
Auckland to Wairere Falls to Tauranga 206Km (3 days - Sept 23rd to 25th)<br />
Tauranga - 2 days working (Sept 26th - 27th)<br />
Tauranga to Gisborne - 277Km (3 days Sept 28th - 30th)<br />
Gisborne Stay 1 day (Oct 1st)<br />
Gisborne to Taupo - 303Km (4 days - Oct 2nd - 5th)<br />
Taupo - 2 days working (Oct 6th - 7th)<br />
Taupo to Turangi - 53Km (work same day) 1 day (Oct 8th)<br />
Turangi to Featherston station to Wellington - 320Km 4 days (Oct 9th - 12th)<br />
Wellington 4 days working and studying with Alex (Oct 13th - Oct 16th)<br />
<br />
<b>South Island</b><br />
<br />
Wellington to Picton - Stay 1 night (do some classes after the ferry) - Oct 17th.<br />
Picton to St Arnaud - 125Km (2 days - Oct 18th - 19th).<br />
St Arnaud Travers-Sabine Circuit over 5 days ( Oct 20th - 24th)<br />
St Arnaud to Reefton - 144Km (over 2 days Oct 25th - 26th).<br />
Reefton - 2 days working (Oct 27th - 28th).<br />
Reefton to Greymouth 77Km (1 day - Oct 29th)<br />
Greymouth 2 days working (Oct 30th - 31st).<br />
Greymouth to Arthurs Pass -100Km (2 days - Nov 1st - 2nd)<br />
Stay in Arthurs Pass - 3 days (Nov 3rd - 4th)<br />
Arthurs Pass to Darfield - 106Km (2 days - Nov 5th - 6th)<br />
Darfield - 2 days working (Nov 7th - 8th)<br />
Darfield to Mount Somers 78Km (1 day - Nov 9th)<br />
Mount Sunday Hike - 2 days (Nov 10th - 11th).<br />
Mount Somers to Tekapo - 132Km (2 days - Nov 12th - 13th)<br />
Tekapo - 2 days working (Nov 14th - 15th)<br />
Tekapo to Mount Cook - 104Km (2 days - Nov 16th to 17th)<br />
Mount Cook - stay 2 days (Nov 18th - 19th)<br />
Mount Cook to Twizel - 65Km (1 day - Nov 20th)<br />
Twizel - 2 days work (Nov 21st - 22nd)<br />
Twizel to Queenstown - 200Km (4 days - Nov 23rd - 26th)<br />
Queenstown - stay for 10-14 days and explore the West coast by car (Eunji coming), work 4 - 6 days total. Final part of the trip is flexible up to my flight on the 24th of December.<br />
Queenstown to Invercargill - 193Km (2 days)<br />
Stay in Invercargill 2 days - working.<br />
Invercargill to Dunedin via Nuggett Point - 304Km (4 days)<br />
(Alternatively, Queenstown to Dunedin, 327Km over 4 days, saving 4 days)<br />
Dunedin (Stay 4 days) Working<br />
Dunedin to Christchurch - 372Km - Bike over 2 -4 days depending on time.<br />
<br />
<br />
Fly home for Christmas!<br />
<br />
<br />Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-78348680825771761102018-08-21T01:45:00.002-07:002018-08-21T01:56:50.211-07:00Cairns - The Great Barrier Reef<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmdbh2rF0RRdJYUjJaPTSyiPGn2ivr8HgvpmBFvOtj6LM_ijCQe3b-qfVE8FxZV7OIPMEfz3WRQiBKV1rB6-WLv8H-InPBfCSGZPWzSPpalbDIvGBmXLApx4QEvRHKpDxLsdVV007l_0o/s1600/2+turtles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmdbh2rF0RRdJYUjJaPTSyiPGn2ivr8HgvpmBFvOtj6LM_ijCQe3b-qfVE8FxZV7OIPMEfz3WRQiBKV1rB6-WLv8H-InPBfCSGZPWzSPpalbDIvGBmXLApx4QEvRHKpDxLsdVV007l_0o/s400/2+turtles.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The main event for me in Cairns was to dive The Great Barrier Reef, one of the 7 natural wonders of the world. I hadn't dived for nearly ten years, so this seemed like the perfect place to get back into it, and I can assure you it won't be ten years until I dive again.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9N5x4RrHrsBegRxiTdkivRL7EvpOffbuAqiRO3q5xax1_Xy2Cg-BQ3llYQBSDyHtGz8Ya_YqnD4gpv5RZC-T7lZjsJYxfohHRSBcdkEelNowQoFykJkAIEMkjyI7EaqFdd3X-nR5YxGw/s1600/Me+and+frank.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9N5x4RrHrsBegRxiTdkivRL7EvpOffbuAqiRO3q5xax1_Xy2Cg-BQ3llYQBSDyHtGz8Ya_YqnD4gpv5RZC-T7lZjsJYxfohHRSBcdkEelNowQoFykJkAIEMkjyI7EaqFdd3X-nR5YxGw/s400/Me+and+frank.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Managed to get a picture with Frank, the famous Humpheaded Maori Wrasse. He loves people and apparently has a great memory and recognises many regular divers.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
While in Cairns, I actually managed to do 12 dives in total over two overnight liveaboard trips out to the reef. The first time was on my own, and then I took Eunji out there with me for the second trip. She isn't a diver, but there were snorkelers on board also. Fortunately, each trip out starts and finishes with a snorkel for everyone, so I was able to get out there with her a couple of times, which was nice.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx0QvKKsCZqKMSjJ4DN_xPc_Ob_ghcYe8nyuj9BiWhz4s7kXCjA8csqX8XyFI_LSXoRyzpswbQZyxYeUGy21OgTeDF4QrgEu07NDUHZpSAi-wdXboXBi0FIutrBxFpu7X2UYNeCJN5xpU/s1600/Cuttlefish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx0QvKKsCZqKMSjJ4DN_xPc_Ob_ghcYe8nyuj9BiWhz4s7kXCjA8csqX8XyFI_LSXoRyzpswbQZyxYeUGy21OgTeDF4QrgEu07NDUHZpSAi-wdXboXBi0FIutrBxFpu7X2UYNeCJN5xpU/s400/Cuttlefish.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First time I'd seen a cuttlefish. Their colour changing is quite incredible.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Anyway, the first journey out on the reef and I was a smidgen worried about my first dive. Truth be told, when I first learned to dive I was pretty terrified. I am not a strong swimmer and deep water has always been a bit scary for me. When I was in Melbourne, I did a bit of open water swimming with a group of people on a Saturday. Unbeknownst to me, the first time I showed-up I went with the intermediate group by mistake instead of the beginner group. To warm-up they swam about 250m out to a buoy. I was quite confident I could swim that far, so although intimidated, I gave it a go. However, once I saw the bottom disappear my heart started pounding, and my breathing patterns were interrupted completely, so I had to turn back.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ngZl4n2YdlemUmGxFx8PqCSPGGi8l066enozK7ispm_J6jr3yvSsv0tuLY3aQE4-ta1-zYWSx2SdTQAGc85OxlEmRJiVIzaIb_urFIKj_axAjohA4Ph2NSmgoQDBsMAW5C0Oy98Lu6Y/s1600/Me+with+cuttle+fish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="640" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ngZl4n2YdlemUmGxFx8PqCSPGGi8l066enozK7ispm_J6jr3yvSsv0tuLY3aQE4-ta1-zYWSx2SdTQAGc85OxlEmRJiVIzaIb_urFIKj_axAjohA4Ph2NSmgoQDBsMAW5C0Oy98Lu6Y/s400/Me+with+cuttle+fish.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There is another cuttlefish in this picture, but it is so well camouflaged, it is difficult to spot.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This is a feeling I surprisingly never got while diving, it seems to be a surface of the water kind of fear, a fear of sinking. When you scuba dive though, the idea is to sink, and once I was underwater for the first time, I was comfortable and surprisingly relaxed. So although a little anxious again this time, all my fears disappeared as soon as I sank below the surface. To be honest, scuba diving is both one of the most exciting and relaxing activities I have ever done. What you see underwater is often awe-inspiring, but getting around is super-easy and peaceful once you have some control of your buoyancy.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>"I can mention many moments that were unforgettable and revelatory. But the single most revelatory 3 minutes was the first time I put on scuba gear and dived on a coral reef " - David Attenborough.</i></blockquote>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL_XykQI_84IyCQf8s9jYM04itdy_izeUYChs2geXlRpY1wMEDrXcBFce3zZPBaz9JJ6LDzrGc0EAcQajzP0mbgciggQJcGB26JYTmKOWjB0NLsZQbrTKWTV-fOc-3OtUsY9473VEw6js/s1600/Me+in+dive+gear.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="640" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL_XykQI_84IyCQf8s9jYM04itdy_izeUYChs2geXlRpY1wMEDrXcBFce3zZPBaz9JJ6LDzrGc0EAcQajzP0mbgciggQJcGB26JYTmKOWjB0NLsZQbrTKWTV-fOc-3OtUsY9473VEw6js/s400/Me+in+dive+gear.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />
I was going to get a refresher course, but the instructors thought I'd be alright just going on a couple of guided dives first, which was great anyway because they knew where to go on the reef, making for a better dive. It is actually quite difficult to navigate if you just go with a buddy sometimes.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPFpJmfysMWuxS0ihJ98a33qRstmO6UFsP6ADXqpLYhSZsD1Gwd85JOsJ_CWozN9invmC-0WHf2IfyQdeCYqsRVhrFbeOeC5GJp2yvJxxuE0D0lxTJHOavlnU7iqpishIGKC8KKfh-BRU/s1600/2+whitetips.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPFpJmfysMWuxS0ihJ98a33qRstmO6UFsP6ADXqpLYhSZsD1Gwd85JOsJ_CWozN9invmC-0WHf2IfyQdeCYqsRVhrFbeOeC5GJp2yvJxxuE0D0lxTJHOavlnU7iqpishIGKC8KKfh-BRU/s400/2+whitetips.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The diving was perfect really, all the dives weren't super-deep and there was no current in the water and very little swell, all excellent for reconnecting with the skills. The lowest I got down to was about 20 metres, but most of the action was at about 10 metres anyway.<br />
<br />
There was plenty to see; sharks, giant trevally, turtles, cuttlefish, moray eels, nudibranchs (kind of a colourful slug-like creature), stunning coral structures, and plentiful colourful reef fish.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoDXwh-II9FDX7vV21q5nPxfDule33CRioP2MaZchV-1oZo3FWjl9Y7pV1FW4pekMYv8ntbwG0Id-PCktDO3_4QSe10aAdmPKG50zd3aRjStWkpVZIY9yu3mPH1v4D4d0sG_ZaWU5SMUg/s1600/moray+eel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="907" data-original-width="1360" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoDXwh-II9FDX7vV21q5nPxfDule33CRioP2MaZchV-1oZo3FWjl9Y7pV1FW4pekMYv8ntbwG0Id-PCktDO3_4QSe10aAdmPKG50zd3aRjStWkpVZIY9yu3mPH1v4D4d0sG_ZaWU5SMUg/s400/moray+eel.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The highlight of the dives on this first trip was an extremely friendly green turtle that actually approached a few of us right up close, seeming genuinely curious. A couple of the instructors picked-up some bits of algae/seaweed and offered it to the turtle, which brought it in very close, and it appeared not to be scared of us at all. Fortunately for me, the cameraman was in the right place at the right time as I turned my head, sensing the turtle was just over my shoulder, and he got the perfect shot. This picture will definitely be on the wall back home in England.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCLjEK4BmpPQf3FtlKvxulz2Mfm1F9ZHMxPBagaaT9MLgOsG9KNo_kKeTT7HOGqla2GSou2FJ7irx8OZcW2V6duoYR4V9f9bcpfkSw_qjZ6a9_VKhzJF8vg4U2rEUwJeMRaI3Lywb3pcA/s1600/Me+and+turtle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="907" data-original-width="1360" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCLjEK4BmpPQf3FtlKvxulz2Mfm1F9ZHMxPBagaaT9MLgOsG9KNo_kKeTT7HOGqla2GSou2FJ7irx8OZcW2V6duoYR4V9f9bcpfkSw_qjZ6a9_VKhzJF8vg4U2rEUwJeMRaI3Lywb3pcA/s400/Me+and+turtle.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What a picture!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The second time was even better diving. It was noticeable right-away how much more control of my buoyancy I had, something that makes diving super-easy and relaxing.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1AvWYcivhGdWqL_GH0g8QrMMhK97UOte7ra5v9arlgc1217SXYM3GmtmIBur1LsnjbHVT4yATLYEQ1Jqe3-GWwO63h990rDQv2rOIFOGRPhgS9yYjqdcoHPLZ_J-DoG1P_-E1T0-744Q/s1600/Anemone+fish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="639" data-original-width="960" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1AvWYcivhGdWqL_GH0g8QrMMhK97UOte7ra5v9arlgc1217SXYM3GmtmIBur1LsnjbHVT4yATLYEQ1Jqe3-GWwO63h990rDQv2rOIFOGRPhgS9yYjqdcoHPLZ_J-DoG1P_-E1T0-744Q/s400/Anemone+fish.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I was quite impressed with Eunji on this trip, I was a little worried that she might not be that comfortable with the snorkeling. The reason for this is that the Great Barrier Reef is out there in the open ocean, so even though the reef makes the waters calmer, the boat still has to anchor just outside the reef, making for a daunting swim over the abyss to the shallow reef. It was clear from our first snorkel together that she was pretty nervous and uncomfortable. She persevered, however, and got gradually happier during that first snorkel. The next snorkel she did without me with a guide and was back a little before me when I was diving. The following snorkel we were back at the same time, and then after that she was in the water for far longer than I was. I think she really enjoyed the trip, not just for the reef itself, but the whole experience on the boat, which was excellent.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyKaeMPATLLoNS354iINbgNs5Xjm0c-qspJOrnz2QAnqzW3ttprxiAmqZb0j8bpNLb0B2KR2VIuvPzaacUid4il1QTu77clyWR_qTpYlawP-sYHVWWxoOo1-vbyNeVUheljNu5toAmud4/s1600/Me+and+eunji+on+the+reef.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyKaeMPATLLoNS354iINbgNs5Xjm0c-qspJOrnz2QAnqzW3ttprxiAmqZb0j8bpNLb0B2KR2VIuvPzaacUid4il1QTu77clyWR_qTpYlawP-sYHVWWxoOo1-vbyNeVUheljNu5toAmud4/s400/Me+and+eunji+on+the+reef.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The highlight dive for me was the morning dive on the second day. Straight-away, about 15 metres down under the boat, there were about 15 sharks prowling the sandy sea floor. These consisted of the usual white-tip reef sharks and also the bigger grey reef sharks, coming it at about 2.5 metres in length. Other great variety on this dive included nudibranchs, large groupers, turtles, stingrays, and large shoals of fish.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-HVHOZst6TFk1X6X71fYlr9nFZLJFu6XJM4LdTVC9P1d3q56wCMFUEr3XrqfgcU7f8UEZSGY_FyAGYpzsIJ2edy-kynyvDRjUjmpnFz07o4yTJHyX6w2g49PCqdDcGkfCuZCEnLeZFuA/s1600/Grey+reef+shark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="544" data-original-width="960" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-HVHOZst6TFk1X6X71fYlr9nFZLJFu6XJM4LdTVC9P1d3q56wCMFUEr3XrqfgcU7f8UEZSGY_FyAGYpzsIJ2edy-kynyvDRjUjmpnFz07o4yTJHyX6w2g49PCqdDcGkfCuZCEnLeZFuA/s400/Grey+reef+shark.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The night dive also brought some interesting sights; one being a large grouper eating a parrot fish and having the tail sticking out of it's mouth. During night dives you generally see much more predatory behaviour, with giant trevally, in particular, using your torchlight to hunt fish in the dark.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtriEu9kQG1TkyNOflhoIV2obMLnL2AgezsrvcYpNQAmd_JULvLwVakoQn-6-6Pk6aX8-J433J_7R-PPt6c6LtGXNlTH8LpQ4eU4mY41rdod2SSdp4o-RVpU3BWvRy9y6_dYYp8HGIGnQ/s1600/Room+onboard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtriEu9kQG1TkyNOflhoIV2obMLnL2AgezsrvcYpNQAmd_JULvLwVakoQn-6-6Pk6aX8-J433J_7R-PPt6c6LtGXNlTH8LpQ4eU4mY41rdod2SSdp4o-RVpU3BWvRy9y6_dYYp8HGIGnQ/s400/Room+onboard.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our room for the night.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I also witnessed the very odd behaviour of a parrot fish. At night parrot fish blow themselves a mucous bubble which surrounds their whole body, hiding its scent from predators and perhaps acting as an early warning system of an attack. They then eat this mucous bubble for breakfast in the morning. Bizarre and fascinating to see.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHxfS8C0Ypdl4M9XJ91_DoL5cOekM2Qq1z87zX5wlzalPu_jeuqR_rA17kW_-k5Ke-CEEoFq_8w7Lj93Jzii3QfVHXQ7As-L4KrYjZBEMM5OJoJg-7kwpK3QUu7wukKeLpRECt8FlEIUk/s1600/Cool+cuttlefish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="624" data-original-width="960" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHxfS8C0Ypdl4M9XJ91_DoL5cOekM2Qq1z87zX5wlzalPu_jeuqR_rA17kW_-k5Ke-CEEoFq_8w7Lj93Jzii3QfVHXQ7As-L4KrYjZBEMM5OJoJg-7kwpK3QUu7wukKeLpRECt8FlEIUk/s400/Cool+cuttlefish.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was really great to see the changing colours of cuttlefish, one of my favourite creatures on the reef.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It was brilliant to get back out there again so soon, and amazingly, it is only another couple of weeks until my next dive, this time at Poor Knights Island in New Zealand, apparently one of the best sub-tropical dives in the world. It will take a lot to beat this experience, however, and I'd thoroughly recommend it to anyone coming to Australia, whether you are a diver or not. Beautiful nature, fantastic food, amazing service, and a very well organised and comfortable boat, which made for happy, enthusiastic guests who all seemed to get along. The icing on the cake was seeing some humpback whales on the boat on the way back to Cairns, what an experience.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio97p8Ibq9g5q8IulyoqIAELC2O0nku2G0jagA1wutW9eFa-AEMMgFpTON3bGs8_kcR0MRgVywTWm55W3DSso21hxTWjHt0G1zUiP4WqGwwwh0a5-0H-9mL-Lfv-ASWDnrXkDrPgOOStc/s1600/The+boat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio97p8Ibq9g5q8IulyoqIAELC2O0nku2G0jagA1wutW9eFa-AEMMgFpTON3bGs8_kcR0MRgVywTWm55W3DSso21hxTWjHt0G1zUiP4WqGwwwh0a5-0H-9mL-Lfv-ASWDnrXkDrPgOOStc/s400/The+boat.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The boat anchored at 3 different dive sites over two days on the reef.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-85708938110701459192018-08-10T02:34:00.001-07:002018-08-10T02:34:18.757-07:00Cycling in Cairns<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyDCp3f6zJHhvXwjAsZ0fiGVpm3x8FMQ4Ca2ZjyVbCFKVrQfAi22wNVMJcIh7TnGkPe-ikPf3uRbU58rJ_TZrCqHSkH7c3ztpcWUcFR7Hi6d8HOTqMjFZfEhXEiTtjLt6FpmTUOEq71gI/s1600/Fields+and+mountains.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyDCp3f6zJHhvXwjAsZ0fiGVpm3x8FMQ4Ca2ZjyVbCFKVrQfAi22wNVMJcIh7TnGkPe-ikPf3uRbU58rJ_TZrCqHSkH7c3ztpcWUcFR7Hi6d8HOTqMjFZfEhXEiTtjLt6FpmTUOEq71gI/s400/Fields+and+mountains.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
So basically, I nailed it. I made the call to cut the cycling short and head to Cairns early to spend about a month and a half there instead of about a week, as originally planned. It was a marvelous decision; instead of suffering through constant headwinds on roads of endless nothing with an increasingly unreliable internet connection for work, I found myself in paradise, and not just a scenic paradise, suited to cocktails on the beach with your feet up, but an adventurer's paradise too.<br />
<br />
It was a relief to get to Cairns after a long haul, both on the bike and on the bus. I was really hoping I liked it there, as I had a good amount of time before I went to New Zealand.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiimg9GGgQuTY67PXHdjSflq8bgg4Z0KeP64yA8gB_GIqse_8a9_diM8u5t9yBABwciKA4KBrplC3P0pXRKhsf1RgMXNg9zLToSR-UPgewJEbHLtEWqNa7UsQP0KQdpUppuDOfMm0WHOfo/s1600/view+of+cairns+surrounds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiimg9GGgQuTY67PXHdjSflq8bgg4Z0KeP64yA8gB_GIqse_8a9_diM8u5t9yBABwciKA4KBrplC3P0pXRKhsf1RgMXNg9zLToSR-UPgewJEbHLtEWqNa7UsQP0KQdpUppuDOfMm0WHOfo/s400/view+of+cairns+surrounds.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Well, I haven't been disappointed, I love it here. It really is the perfect place for me, well in Winter at least. I hear it is unbearably hot and humid in Summer. Now in Winter it is about 26-29 degrees and sunny every day and cool at night. On land, you have loads of mountains within 20-30Km away, and longer trips over 2 - 4 days into the Tablelands and rainforests, as well as lots of trail runs closer to town. In the sea - this area of the world is famous for that part - the Great Barrier Reef.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZhwo6CLRVlxUiYJhZVrK2hPqz9tlFZn7IkQPQED2_klstdA6s7nwOEjN8Er7kwi0Zy1B1cjFtM3ZbSFcTZLdQNQ9WucDqJ5RXlPvAswrUyeuhiWCcT6qPVgYE-vALvYKjYpxpbBjq9Ds/s1600/Cairns+beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZhwo6CLRVlxUiYJhZVrK2hPqz9tlFZn7IkQPQED2_klstdA6s7nwOEjN8Er7kwi0Zy1B1cjFtM3ZbSFcTZLdQNQ9WucDqJ5RXlPvAswrUyeuhiWCcT6qPVgYE-vALvYKjYpxpbBjq9Ds/s400/Cairns+beach.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The beach in Cairns.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I would say the major passion in my life is a love of nature; if you were to analyse the kind of photos I take, you can see this quite clearly. The two environments I am most fond of are mountains and the oceans. I hadn't scuba dived for years before I came here, but when I dived in Fiji, I think I experienced some of the most memorable moments of my life. Snorkeling is great, but scuba diving opens up a new world like nothing else I have ever experienced. I was gutted I didn't have enough time to dive at Ningaloo (although I did snorkel a bit), I will in the future as I hear it is actually better diving than the Great Barrier Reef, but at least now I can revisit this world again.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEvtGmjgaW9uTef-K4u3SSZbMBg10Wk2-Ncf6vfQ1WgH8Tc5Nj4vfBPaPlhNC6KbjMNqilUk3VCyHQoR388NIgvFVp-RFTo6XLWyCXZfCY4NvbzfxVJc885SpvhsOLBAR3GO-Gjn-eSjI/s1600/Barron+Gorge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEvtGmjgaW9uTef-K4u3SSZbMBg10Wk2-Ncf6vfQ1WgH8Tc5Nj4vfBPaPlhNC6KbjMNqilUk3VCyHQoR388NIgvFVp-RFTo6XLWyCXZfCY4NvbzfxVJc885SpvhsOLBAR3GO-Gjn-eSjI/s400/Barron+Gorge.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Barron Gorge Falls was seriously impressive. The picture doesn't do it justice.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The coast in this part of Australia is really beautiful, with the mountains so close. My first journey out of the city was to Kuranda to see the Barron Gorge Falls. I tentatively headed out of Cairns on the main highway and was worried about traffic. I needn't have worried though as there was either a cycle path or a wide shoulder all the way until the turn-off. It was actually the climb to Kuranda that was a little dodgy due to high volumes of traffic.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg9BfAdhi_ziCZA9VWzvdYbFQ4bhhm1o1S665m6L3fRQYVV4DFFgfGBntZ8wHHrpLX39z5gfEsv7ej_O9eq2iFF1lOBeFUQOze7dqnRj18gmy2aOIRjRDufRpth_5hCT8zFmYDdSEs8dU/s1600/Meeting+cyclists.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg9BfAdhi_ziCZA9VWzvdYbFQ4bhhm1o1S665m6L3fRQYVV4DFFgfGBntZ8wHHrpLX39z5gfEsv7ej_O9eq2iFF1lOBeFUQOze7dqnRj18gmy2aOIRjRDufRpth_5hCT8zFmYDdSEs8dU/s400/Meeting+cyclists.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There were no cars, but some friendly fellow-cyclists.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Before then, however, I actually made a wrong turn. I was annoyed briefly, but realised I was actually heading to quite a nice area lower down Barron Gorge, so I thought I'd continue and just make the day a little longer. It was a good call, there were no cars and a very nice road going through the gorge to an end point near a power station. The bridge to it offered tranquil, scenic views and after a while I was joined by 3 other cyclists.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXZKMO7-JYwFgfp3pip_ZOJBcKgRLtfl1_phEimi1mh_2-A0X-P4AkPIzd4Fippf5JC8_9nNfXiMlP_C5-Ev8ilUG5_HOM-HObWXFvxvSAPHUVkTsXLiyqwCv_Y8Dzp-fUNI-RSPpQUDg/s1600/Lower+Barron+gorge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXZKMO7-JYwFgfp3pip_ZOJBcKgRLtfl1_phEimi1mh_2-A0X-P4AkPIzd4Fippf5JC8_9nNfXiMlP_C5-Ev8ilUG5_HOM-HObWXFvxvSAPHUVkTsXLiyqwCv_Y8Dzp-fUNI-RSPpQUDg/s400/Lower+Barron+gorge.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
As I mentioned, the road up to Kuranda was a bit hairy; big trucks and lots of traffic going up a, narrow at times, winding road. It was quite a long climb, but with weight off the bike, it felt nicely difficult, a good workout, but not absolute hell. It was nice to be climbing again and not pushing against the wind on a dead-flat road. These roads into the mountains should give the legs a nice wake-up call before I go to New Zealand. The climbs there will be relentless.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie8b6WuDVKjqubzrv6FURjt6ct_bZF4Jvp9excMKXzxP5eLbBDYIQUwXKxjIPvTUCTi-vtioCgdfEiNNrMx8rtmykr4u6mQjriEqlnNAUPoD5w2G7STeVxH7RGfRruuv5P5Yun-ou8KIY/s1600/Wrights+lookout.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie8b6WuDVKjqubzrv6FURjt6ct_bZF4Jvp9excMKXzxP5eLbBDYIQUwXKxjIPvTUCTi-vtioCgdfEiNNrMx8rtmykr4u6mQjriEqlnNAUPoD5w2G7STeVxH7RGfRruuv5P5Yun-ou8KIY/s400/Wrights+lookout.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A fine view over the rainforest from Wright's Lookout.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I had a few extra kilometres to get to Barron Gorge Falls and Wrights Lookout. I had seen pictures of the falls on Google, and it didn't look that spectacular, and my picture of the falls doesn't look anything special, but when you are there it is quite stunning, there is just not much in the foreground to give a sense of scale. It's a huge gorge and a most impressive sight. Most people drive up there or get the train, which winds through the rainforested mountains, but it is always rewarding to put in the hard yards to get somewhere on your own volition.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjndjw_reaHNJa_VyTeG_8e0KtEcN0KumzbdDj-ZwslVlp-CvaqXa8nmNDFD8jY3csJP8EXKtUCt-5IJ1wMHKY62iw-PyY8SVJ-2L4xA7LPHxWFIw-M-2HMJbKrPMeH5EZak0Iuhj1ihDY/s1600/Trinity+Bay+lookout.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjndjw_reaHNJa_VyTeG_8e0KtEcN0KumzbdDj-ZwslVlp-CvaqXa8nmNDFD8jY3csJP8EXKtUCt-5IJ1wMHKY62iw-PyY8SVJ-2L4xA7LPHxWFIw-M-2HMJbKrPMeH5EZak0Iuhj1ihDY/s400/Trinity+Bay+lookout.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trinity Bay Lookout in Port Douglas.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I made a couple more trips out on the bike, the longest of which was out to Port Douglas and back, about 100Km in total. It was a very picturesque coastal ride, and as a bit of training for New Zealand, I loaded the bike up a bit more. It was hard work in the warm, humid weather, and it had been a few weeks since I had been so far on the bike, so I felt it a little. It is amazing how quickly you lose fitness.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjJZbHdfALmPFjvueKdYOfY0r1Lu0xh-K7wtXLnjQVRMrnzza6W5qSci1-zBUk8GaazacsCJVjWOO3arjRVVvjlY0pQkCY5jDh953pcTcjgd0Mm1d3mBxzmg4jXYhT541tyDugQtmJYg0/s1600/Rex+lookout.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjJZbHdfALmPFjvueKdYOfY0r1Lu0xh-K7wtXLnjQVRMrnzza6W5qSci1-zBUk8GaazacsCJVjWOO3arjRVVvjlY0pQkCY5jDh953pcTcjgd0Mm1d3mBxzmg4jXYhT541tyDugQtmJYg0/s400/Rex+lookout.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Since arriving in Cairns, indeed since Broome, I have been working out quite a lot; running, circuits, and weight training. I am without doubt feeling fitter, faster, and stronger for it, but it counts for little on the bike. It is amazing sometimes how specific fitness is. Fit on the bike, slow and unfit on your feet; quick on your feet and stronger all-round, but then tired over long distances.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXBuXq5pS5aeDmxtlbL0-aEjuegLPEm0tpBThq5tBkoUH8OsOELkbhyphenhyphen6Frm7LO_tUa9xu7gTFt2Fgm2Dl5-I4UCOH_LYijA02cYC1X_YTg3i41LTlnfkKfvHwM5z2HeNS5Yql6C91p2_o/s1600/Cairns+to+Port+Douglas+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXBuXq5pS5aeDmxtlbL0-aEjuegLPEm0tpBThq5tBkoUH8OsOELkbhyphenhyphen6Frm7LO_tUa9xu7gTFt2Fgm2Dl5-I4UCOH_LYijA02cYC1X_YTg3i41LTlnfkKfvHwM5z2HeNS5Yql6C91p2_o/s400/Cairns+to+Port+Douglas+1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I also took a trip out to a local wildlife park to see some crocodiles. I would love to observe these monsters up-close in the wild, but well, not really. A close encounter in the wild with a croc is something you may well not walk away from, so there was no option but to see them in captivity.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8CFlCiLdIAiZpgD2TSwAq-pGVipuF6_6UKZFUJRfYtLBwwrGYCo7s661Cju1lIjdLSoTKuqzkFCfOTGjd08oLxNlMun0Rl4NRZYE5GDDJrVA3Ona7r7ixIqEqcXZ5muuGiMpaHtofdSA/s1600/Cairns+to+Port+Douglas+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8CFlCiLdIAiZpgD2TSwAq-pGVipuF6_6UKZFUJRfYtLBwwrGYCo7s661Cju1lIjdLSoTKuqzkFCfOTGjd08oLxNlMun0Rl4NRZYE5GDDJrVA3Ona7r7ixIqEqcXZ5muuGiMpaHtofdSA/s400/Cairns+to+Port+Douglas+3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I was impressed with the park, however, they had a large lagoon that took 20 minutes by boat to get around, which housed most of their crocs, at least the ones that could live side by side without killing the others. Those troublemakers were left in solitary confinement in smaller enclosures, but they were still large enough.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR6AOpYdJnLkLHM1uFGIUQC6Y6i6srv4K5hLw7bOY5iqdu73vyGztIyLbiReTOMmgbor1ot3kJm8SaW-UU3ZoddlB7d__OdDQqSs9TcMVHNClKOOMNO6no8SLonWk2P0e1LTdIgNhy-Es/s1600/Big+Croc+feeding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR6AOpYdJnLkLHM1uFGIUQC6Y6i6srv4K5hLw7bOY5iqdu73vyGztIyLbiReTOMmgbor1ot3kJm8SaW-UU3ZoddlB7d__OdDQqSs9TcMVHNClKOOMNO6no8SLonWk2P0e1LTdIgNhy-Es/s400/Big+Croc+feeding.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
They are awesome beasts, the biggest of which was about 5.3m long and over 100 years old. They are one of the few animals I have ever seen that weren't skittish or scared of humans in the least, in fact it was quite clear by their behaviour that, but for the barriers, they would have quite happily dined on any one of us without a second thought. To hear one growl deeply at close quarters is quite wonderfully terrifying, to come face to face with one in the wild would be scary to say the least.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBb5YDHRaNqmi8eSNH05qX_anHWhwe0Cs_DjTdXRhE_-WoI8LlqKn_FqRWinR1iIuHhVPeIcxHu8bXdQ-jJ7D8UHVFu7j87N_6C1uB5_CwBlds-bXhN7XehRf46s9G4o2XipIbm5YGMdM/s1600/Crocs+gathering.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBb5YDHRaNqmi8eSNH05qX_anHWhwe0Cs_DjTdXRhE_-WoI8LlqKn_FqRWinR1iIuHhVPeIcxHu8bXdQ-jJ7D8UHVFu7j87N_6C1uB5_CwBlds-bXhN7XehRf46s9G4o2XipIbm5YGMdM/s400/Crocs+gathering.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Pretty much all of the crocs there were problem crocodiles. They had been captured because they were either threatening livestock, people or pets. Most of them were named after the last dog they had eaten. You have to be careful about where you let the dog off the lead here in North Queensland, crocodiles can inhabit almost any waterway, both freshwater and saltwater crocs, however the salties are especially fearsome. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbLPXzsGj4KlyTj0kJGQe3gGr0T3qywYbAKXCVScCz6-yvwFctZcJi09ZaIpbs1WhgVXYM8h9ulSxRdGipWqa8fvIIxTiLGpcaMBG3mwY9y5a1kYo4FPyrREhrTKI0dGG6hD_Y4I3QvE8/s1600/Cassowary.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbLPXzsGj4KlyTj0kJGQe3gGr0T3qywYbAKXCVScCz6-yvwFctZcJi09ZaIpbs1WhgVXYM8h9ulSxRdGipWqa8fvIIxTiLGpcaMBG3mwY9y5a1kYo4FPyrREhrTKI0dGG6hD_Y4I3QvE8/s400/Cassowary.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
There were other animals in the park, and I was particularly fascinated by the cassowaries. If there is one animal in the world that looks more like a dinosaur than a crocodile, it is these birds. With the crest on their heads they seems like a living dinosaur. The one in the picture here was very friendly and you could feed it by hand, but in the wild they can be very aggressive and dangerous. They are actually Australia's heaviest land animal.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs_c-vFqbtzcQVm8jvExbNpTLrSCKrCSQNqThr8C0N22fyQ5c4MrZD7QtDtsdeTGuf3OkxpKpGpVXMRxJnFOFfYqrnj4CQvjD5LnFC4loPmSqmykh1UX-pV58GaefdmRX4DE1f-IzWyw8/s1600/Sleepy+koala.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs_c-vFqbtzcQVm8jvExbNpTLrSCKrCSQNqThr8C0N22fyQ5c4MrZD7QtDtsdeTGuf3OkxpKpGpVXMRxJnFOFfYqrnj4CQvjD5LnFC4loPmSqmykh1UX-pV58GaefdmRX4DE1f-IzWyw8/s400/Sleepy+koala.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
There were also plenty of wallabies, kangaroos, koalas (of the smaller, cuter, northern kind), wombats, and more. It was a very nice park, with wide-open huge enclosures for the animals, most of whom were rescued or injured from traffic accidents. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuqwKZIfqkeDFiAGahCAcbfSaHSgLAtHZWnKMDGUXeZF0FkZOe-SuPAIy6OIsNuRTa-KHKAi67G9bxmAcJPhPVxs7SQyztXc0JXqZf9viN1mjfui3FXP3e-jq0jeL6OXoXoAg55BJoEqM/s1600/Croc+in+the+water.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuqwKZIfqkeDFiAGahCAcbfSaHSgLAtHZWnKMDGUXeZF0FkZOe-SuPAIy6OIsNuRTa-KHKAi67G9bxmAcJPhPVxs7SQyztXc0JXqZf9viN1mjfui3FXP3e-jq0jeL6OXoXoAg55BJoEqM/s400/Croc+in+the+water.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
All the way across Australia, I have been very impressed of how the country handles it's ecotourism. It is clear a balance needs to be maintained between allowing access to see wildlife for the public for economic purposes and not disturbing wild animals or habitats, and in pretty much every occasion I have seen, everywhere gets the balance just about right, and besides, making wildlife and wild habitats economically valuable is going to be the surest way of protecting them in the long-term. Australia is doing a great job of not over-egging the pudding though and maintaining a great respect for it's natural treasures. There is some argument over the Great Barrier Reef, though, as it has been suffering in recent years, both due to agriculture and mining, as well as rising sea temperatures, so I thought I'd better check it out sooner rather than later. This write-up is my next post.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-55279661402167249142018-07-20T23:51:00.002-07:002018-07-20T23:51:58.777-07:00Broome to Cairns (by bus, with a little cycling and side trips).<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRSj1x2JvAxb8XAsfrp68SJ3UZzZcxZuN5XGxPtruKhCaWkvYVinhusrFLVbBq_N1KZTGWsjO8pQZJDQGdQFvQ5fOJYBCxFBNDH5HB_EPWqdGDggysPguaXkvhM2KoyJWgPVaMZVLzlHI/s1600/20180627_111152.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRSj1x2JvAxb8XAsfrp68SJ3UZzZcxZuN5XGxPtruKhCaWkvYVinhusrFLVbBq_N1KZTGWsjO8pQZJDQGdQFvQ5fOJYBCxFBNDH5HB_EPWqdGDggysPguaXkvhM2KoyJWgPVaMZVLzlHI/s400/20180627_111152.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Having finished my cycle tour in Australia in Broome, I spent almost 2 weeks in the town. Broome is a hard place to get to; there aren't many flights there and those that exist are expensive, and as is typical in Australia, it is pretty isolated. If you have got to Broome, you have probably expended a great deal of time and effort - not to mention spent a fair amount of money - to be there in the first place.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHq9jIdtGTHqQERiBx3xVp9v4JsKDgAIczN3vkpL7Wo6sasQrhgZVCShwKP924yGSKYRUt5MqlO4Rmv5kfO5xlZLurYbP4eUDcN3SHPOf8QTvqdTL-cE7zUn1FrIpDTmkcPaB5V_bMZ7M/s1600/Camels.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHq9jIdtGTHqQERiBx3xVp9v4JsKDgAIczN3vkpL7Wo6sasQrhgZVCShwKP924yGSKYRUt5MqlO4Rmv5kfO5xlZLurYbP4eUDcN3SHPOf8QTvqdTL-cE7zUn1FrIpDTmkcPaB5V_bMZ7M/s400/Camels.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On their way home after a hard day's work on Cable Beach.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Once in Broome, doing anything interesting is also quite expensive, mainly due to the fact that in an already remote place, the places of interest are even more remote still, and also a very long way away.<br />
<br />
I changed the title of this blog because of wanted to diversify my range of adventures a little, whilst still continuing to bicycle tour - there are not many better ways of traveling through a country.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD9Qv2IDkayLLpAY_qUDC6dZR3UGFic4CRQLWidMTHXwMquRwSpVn9D9W8qXFVzaEbPZl9648A4KXcBlfEmLuCo2Wheulnv4PeI3jq_P9PcTRAZzODIiemfGL9xsCJ96vMEmjj6bgFiu4/s1600/Boab+on+street.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD9Qv2IDkayLLpAY_qUDC6dZR3UGFic4CRQLWidMTHXwMquRwSpVn9D9W8qXFVzaEbPZl9648A4KXcBlfEmLuCo2Wheulnv4PeI3jq_P9PcTRAZzODIiemfGL9xsCJ96vMEmjj6bgFiu4/s400/Boab+on+street.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lots of Boab trees lining the streets of Broome.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Broome is an interesting place, being right next to the Kimberly - a quite unique area of Australia - it has quite a different feel to many other towns and cities in Australia. Boab trees are everywhere, making things look different ( the story of how these trees are in this part of Australia is still something of a mystery). Aboriginals are everywhere, mainly doing nothing but sitting around loitering as always, but perhaps more so than in many other towns, some are doing jobs, mostly in the tourist industry as guides in remote or culturally significant areas. A few others sell art on the street or play the didgeridoo outside shopping areas.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkr8XnBsqNGzVYdkVxC-pM8ju37LHdt9vkeibzzvKsllzYyy6_-TbbUEfBzoA8MqrKflWyBd6PuMJVnqQCQnl30cTxU1LF_AvmbG_6EcshuUACitg67VenIYMZz8HMd4P2U3M6mk3jFWM/s1600/Gantheaume+Point.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkr8XnBsqNGzVYdkVxC-pM8ju37LHdt9vkeibzzvKsllzYyy6_-TbbUEfBzoA8MqrKflWyBd6PuMJVnqQCQnl30cTxU1LF_AvmbG_6EcshuUACitg67VenIYMZz8HMd4P2U3M6mk3jFWM/s400/Gantheaume+Point.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Great colour contrast on the coast around Broome.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Perhaps I sound racist when I talk about aboriginals sometimes, but come to Australia, travel around some towns with significant populations of aboriginals and you might understand why they are so difficult to like. It is no exaggeration to say that 99% of them do nothing, and many of them have quite an unsavoury feel about them. They often walk around swearing at each other at the top of their voice, dressed shabbily, and look and smell like they haven't had a wash in about 6 months.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirM0Sdxyok0vmIpzTg0krTkU_JCT2EeSsBPF8az_UUmYaMLxYvAnSRYashyr6ctdm1eVawa256bgYXdy6eR2G36p_ZH8JBte-49fuF4ECLC_4TVNc_yxr90MlIwq9ma3kXrAF_RMhhDUE/s1600/Port+Hedland+Abos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirM0Sdxyok0vmIpzTg0krTkU_JCT2EeSsBPF8az_UUmYaMLxYvAnSRYashyr6ctdm1eVawa256bgYXdy6eR2G36p_ZH8JBte-49fuF4ECLC_4TVNc_yxr90MlIwq9ma3kXrAF_RMhhDUE/s400/Port+Hedland+Abos.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aboriginals doing something (fishing), on the coast of Port Hedland.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Towns with a high population of aboriginals also experience a lot more crime, and this is a source of great frustration for many locals. I have often been told about this in conversation. Some people are sympathetic towards their plight, but most have had enough of them. Money, charity, and services have been thrown at aboriginal communities, but it appears nothing makes any difference. One woman told me of her volunteer work with aboriginal families; she started wanting to help, but was mortified by her observations of how aboriginal parents were treating their children, often abandoning them or abusing them. To be frank, they are a real problem in Australia, and nothing seems to be helping them. One wonders whether they as a people and culture are cut-out for the modern world at all.<br />
<br />
I think aboriginals are at their best when they are totally isolated from any Western influence. This is not to say that Westerners are to blame for their plight. Modernity was coming for them and if it hadn't been the British, it would have been the Dutch, the French, or perhaps the Japanese. I'm guessing they were lucky they didn't get the Japanese, or their culture probably wouldn't exist at all right now. Pity only stretches so far, sometimes you just need to adapt to survive and thrive. They aren't doing it, they need to get off their arses, full stop. Obviously, the British pretty much destroyed their way of life, and this has to be acknowledged, but we can't wind the clock back. Compassion and charity only go so far, aboriginals need to be encouraged to work, and that requires some tough love.<br />
<br />
That said, in survival mode in a remote area, without booze, sugar, and drugs, things feel quite different. I hope the remote areas of Australia stay remote and untouched, except by a few environmentally low-impacting tourists here and there (like me). <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz2kx32oNTFn06QQzw1tDpX8Gue2eKQItqqbPCj_smeTb1994AX5TGs8MQ27IWU3uIhyJZUdnzjZhLuGPn-tGgHzo2cbWgO9Ir2HhxtZ8_c12VIGB18hocrrLJoXe3afXFpPaiaVrAVwg/s1600/Slug+Island.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz2kx32oNTFn06QQzw1tDpX8Gue2eKQItqqbPCj_smeTb1994AX5TGs8MQ27IWU3uIhyJZUdnzjZhLuGPn-tGgHzo2cbWgO9Ir2HhxtZ8_c12VIGB18hocrrLJoXe3afXFpPaiaVrAVwg/s400/Slug+Island.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Slug Island in Talbot Bay.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The greatest and most naturally awe-inspiring area of wilderness in Australia has to be the Kimberly. I got a taste of this on a long day tour from Broome to the Horizontal Falls in Talbot Bay, part of the Buccaneer Archipelago in the coastal north of the Kimberly region.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpWLwNfB03ifyF4XVVKnC8jrCFQCrn26ydPAPXn7vzqHjqUIWhKLjVfcMgFOdupWFQLm7czu7OLIC4kbmpmwA0qdTcWxmiUDVEcxq9ZIh42yL-EVE1gy-YIuxIrpzNMtKxnjg_B4vqZaQ/s1600/Narrow+gap+HF.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpWLwNfB03ifyF4XVVKnC8jrCFQCrn26ydPAPXn7vzqHjqUIWhKLjVfcMgFOdupWFQLm7czu7OLIC4kbmpmwA0qdTcWxmiUDVEcxq9ZIh42yL-EVE1gy-YIuxIrpzNMtKxnjg_B4vqZaQ/s400/Narrow+gap+HF.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Narrow Gap of the Horizontal Falls</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
To get there it took an hour by seaplane. In Talbot Bay there are no airstrips, just two large boats tied together and anchored with a couple of jetties off the side. I had never experienced flying in a seaplane before, and I got to experience it from the co-pilot's seat. I guess I was the youngest on the flight, and because of how tricky it was to get into the seat, this might have been the reason I was chosen to sit there. It was a great experience, yet also slightly unerring as a torrent of warning and information came through my headset, and lots of levers, knobs, and dials were easily knocked in a tight space. I sat very still, trying not to touch anything important.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzk0kvWcjSltxbM2nB-czHjcPFXWR8tQymkPdHO9VYGlI96g22C5R4edCWMcHGuxxrHo818pfGbj2zLtqDO13RcLaP1BOTIZQmcw91A3bIZ5bFlC_12LGg-6esYACMKiVVrx4jf5pouJs/s1600/Buccaneer+Archipelago.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzk0kvWcjSltxbM2nB-czHjcPFXWR8tQymkPdHO9VYGlI96g22C5R4edCWMcHGuxxrHo818pfGbj2zLtqDO13RcLaP1BOTIZQmcw91A3bIZ5bFlC_12LGg-6esYACMKiVVrx4jf5pouJs/s400/Buccaneer+Archipelago.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
As we flew across the Kimberly, the scale of the place really hit home. There was no one out here for hundreds and hundreds of miles. The landing was smoother than I expected as we dropped into our headquarters for the day in the bay. It felt like I was entering Jurassic Park or something, it was ancient and remote, with pristine turquoise blue waters and sharks circling the boats and pontoons.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSagOb23xce1u-cP3sk0PywoUhF4IHyWGp6S95nvSVF-HipddH-641uBY_oTPpKD16FFboejNplxyDE4CVXv00IQk9UtPSPctgeRbdl0n7omD1gSzPTu4oBVt-h9wecCoOhCySccyfOYM/s1600/Nurse+sharks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSagOb23xce1u-cP3sk0PywoUhF4IHyWGp6S95nvSVF-HipddH-641uBY_oTPpKD16FFboejNplxyDE4CVXv00IQk9UtPSPctgeRbdl0n7omD1gSzPTu4oBVt-h9wecCoOhCySccyfOYM/s400/Nurse+sharks.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Soon after landing I got to get up close and personal with these sharks as they had a cage for viewing them. The water was actually quite murky, but luckily the sharks came in very close. They were mostly nurse sharks with poor eyesight, using touch to explore around the boat and cage. This made them a little dangerous as they apparently do a lot of exploring by biting things they sense, i.e. fingers and and other appendages. The water was murky as many large rivers empty into King Sound and surrounding coastal areas bringing a lot of sediment with them, nourishing the bay.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo6Idh7qCh5lpguTBukVmnI7rd4KhNFKMhkCinHquz9Xkt4UWuhbeqdvtaqirUcly6geQ5bcqYIQeZD3RyXpzLfwszIK8RP1vT25OJb3GwOS-jz6NIcXoaMOOuvA5TESgwHGU9l78YcS0/s1600/Wide+gap+HF.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo6Idh7qCh5lpguTBukVmnI7rd4KhNFKMhkCinHquz9Xkt4UWuhbeqdvtaqirUcly6geQ5bcqYIQeZD3RyXpzLfwszIK8RP1vT25OJb3GwOS-jz6NIcXoaMOOuvA5TESgwHGU9l78YcS0/s400/Wide+gap+HF.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The wider gap.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
A boat trip into Cyclone Bay and then through the Horizontal Falls was quite enthralling. I had never seen a coastal area like it in Australia. It had a New Zealand like scale to the coastal cliffs and bays, yet with a uniquely Australian twist. The Horizontal Falls were quite something; the power of the tide being more evident here than possibly anywhere else in the world, a real marvel of nature. I got quite a soaking at times in my position right at the front of the boat.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDQwoptjbeD-z1RnFWlKNGt_9EhYfQBohd25ZO2UroQ5L5J_Mn03_H1V8lGK4iJnBuNBUnidJCWNiO4YlYdORxA8gPtW4_o17oJAiYpuPCeC8ECIU2KIW1dnON-BGiHPaMaVCwwnB5tl0/s1600/Seaplane.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDQwoptjbeD-z1RnFWlKNGt_9EhYfQBohd25ZO2UroQ5L5J_Mn03_H1V8lGK4iJnBuNBUnidJCWNiO4YlYdORxA8gPtW4_o17oJAiYpuPCeC8ECIU2KIW1dnON-BGiHPaMaVCwwnB5tl0/s400/Seaplane.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
After a couple of trips out on the boat, it was time for another flight, this time a low-level scenic flight of the falls and surrounding coastline, landing 30 minutes later at a place called One Arm Point. From here we took a 4x4 to Cape Leveque and a beach that could only exist in Australia, with sky blue waters lapping onto a white-sand beach next to iron-rich, colourful red rocks.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLHWV9WWaDb79RjaJL_I3kfPlx9o0xza7pN9AFDWV_8qbDHRbw0-1JdRSr987MydIgKsH3lg5mu7IH0ag_EDtos6dBT8AvaZZ4X2uzXsC6wJr43R5etdA86dHAclCuA7zlkNIVYzJW_eo/s1600/Me+cape+levique.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLHWV9WWaDb79RjaJL_I3kfPlx9o0xza7pN9AFDWV_8qbDHRbw0-1JdRSr987MydIgKsH3lg5mu7IH0ag_EDtos6dBT8AvaZZ4X2uzXsC6wJr43R5etdA86dHAclCuA7zlkNIVYzJW_eo/s400/Me+cape+levique.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
We had a delicious barramundi lunch here, as there was a little restaurant nearby. We then took-off once again and dropped into a small town called Beagle Bay. Home to a shell and pearl decorated church, built by German missionaries who were under house-arrest in the town during the first world war. It was a pretty little church with some unique artwork.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWaKk09tLN9WsBPddc86Z2dsRD0sNsoMwZGXR2ccBaEGzMAu50W4jzRE3-yIlnmu10jqsAi8HjEHwXud1wacxq2vNj1ldJQW7M2_tTz3KE2mxv9cg4fD0xnw3fy9sOZKld4UAmEkKaIOk/s1600/Church.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWaKk09tLN9WsBPddc86Z2dsRD0sNsoMwZGXR2ccBaEGzMAu50W4jzRE3-yIlnmu10jqsAi8HjEHwXud1wacxq2vNj1ldJQW7M2_tTz3KE2mxv9cg4fD0xnw3fy9sOZKld4UAmEkKaIOk/s400/Church.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The journey back to Broome, in total from One Arm Point was about 4 hours, most of it on characteristically outback red, sandy roads, only driveable using a 4x4 vehicle. This was another first for me, as obviously I can't ride my bike on such roads.<br />
<br />
In fact, these kinds of roads were part of the reason I decided to end my cycling in Broome. I already have some idea of the kind of tour I want to do in this region in the future on a bike with wider tyres and a lighter load. Then I can take the iconic Gibb River Road and also head into the Bungle Bungles, something I can't do on my current set-up. One thing is for sure though, I am not done yet with this region of Australia. I think the North-West is my favourite area of Australia so far, but boy is it harsh and isolated. I wouldn't mind also suffering-through the warmer months up here and seeing the turtles on the beaches. I camped and walked across many isolated beaches that were rookeries between October and March. However, I dread to think how hot it would be at those times of year - and wet in many regions.<br />
<br />
Back to Broome then, and I had some days to wait for my bus to Katherine in the Northern Territory. I decided to put my hand in my pocket once again, this time for a humpback whale tour, although it wasn't anywhere near as expensive as the Horizontal Falls tour.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRbL1KWohGiz3uuChgB8ZNOXTZTQzM1-2LseTGTeF8T4FTit-jgnQzF7WFIA7jgjcdTGQELupSlpONiBmaEwEBmMY7pVb3_7fBW4CVbzN4tgDaEEvtsjMR8Qtk3EHFQvr70or9y_Icwpk/s1600/Humpback.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="302" data-original-width="403" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRbL1KWohGiz3uuChgB8ZNOXTZTQzM1-2LseTGTeF8T4FTit-jgnQzF7WFIA7jgjcdTGQELupSlpONiBmaEwEBmMY7pVb3_7fBW4CVbzN4tgDaEEvtsjMR8Qtk3EHFQvr70or9y_Icwpk/s400/Humpback.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
First though, I was lucky enough to be in Broome for the monthly "Staircase to the moon" celestial phenomenon, where the moon rises at low tide and creates a stunning effect on the mudflats at the town beach. The picture below gives some idea of the effect, although it looked beautiful actually being there, with an orangey-red colour and a really intriguing light effect on the water and mudflats.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOqU53IFRZnUV-VGgNI5Ao4i72cHBP4IZNw7IuviZviWzQoNnJVewy4zzlE33pFEIE3Xou3jLlh6_sdMgIoXBmzraX8AVyZyNMm5Z7Rdc18meVqDiiJCUSUMiZCP9c3oigqTnBD79z-MU/s1600/Staircase+to+the+moon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="711" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOqU53IFRZnUV-VGgNI5Ao4i72cHBP4IZNw7IuviZviWzQoNnJVewy4zzlE33pFEIE3Xou3jLlh6_sdMgIoXBmzraX8AVyZyNMm5Z7Rdc18meVqDiiJCUSUMiZCP9c3oigqTnBD79z-MU/s400/Staircase+to+the+moon.jpg" width="293" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Staircase to the Moon.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
While I was in Broome, I had a few games of squash, and felt so slow that I knew it was time for a fitness regime to counteract the effect of slowly plodding into the wind on the bike for the past few months. I also felt a little tubby, so I needed to lose a few pounds.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigyULVM6Jeb1XmP7N5El8vEAPK8guNxeHcNtX5yN7eBvstMxpu7gNu0vZAME-hH_iDf2U-Lsvgl_hen6zO-_ERkhnMtjjJzkKB-wBJoZAJ3bLtVPY2jyW5DyKIbvN-bvufy-ulrLsVYzo/s1600/Boab+in+Derby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigyULVM6Jeb1XmP7N5El8vEAPK8guNxeHcNtX5yN7eBvstMxpu7gNu0vZAME-hH_iDf2U-Lsvgl_hen6zO-_ERkhnMtjjJzkKB-wBJoZAJ3bLtVPY2jyW5DyKIbvN-bvufy-ulrLsVYzo/s400/Boab+in+Derby.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A huge boab tree in Derby.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I started to get into the habit of working-out every morning; circuit training, 400m sprints, and some speed work. This gave me a bit of a purpose while in Broome and I continued this in Katherine after one leg of an epic bus trip across half of the country.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizDZlhln02BQ2LShI5_b6FhScaFzIWyosJVhm7KVQSSPKs_ATScAhGvOT_Ud_9MRHPspZhXDsxS_wja-OXIzpLwQb1XJduEfevEttIcyAJNv8DftMIEa1WB-bzIJIYUhxLRuL1qPzAeqI/s1600/Croc+sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizDZlhln02BQ2LShI5_b6FhScaFzIWyosJVhm7KVQSSPKs_ATScAhGvOT_Ud_9MRHPspZhXDsxS_wja-OXIzpLwQb1XJduEfevEttIcyAJNv8DftMIEa1WB-bzIJIYUhxLRuL1qPzAeqI/s400/Croc+sign.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I did do some cycling, but no swimming.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The bus driver was more than a little irritated by me having a bike, and he wasn't the last. 4 separate drivers pretty much all complained about it and all grumbled that it wouldn't fit, despite the fact it got in easily every time and I did all the work anyway. I can sort of understand why they were annoyed, but I had paid extra for it. I felt like they shouldn't moan about it if the service was offered, and it was starting to grate on me paying extra only to have to argue with every single bus driver.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFIPMqFcLy5ME_7Q-NdrEcavWXocNU_eEzifNLTfLbnLFIbHgcUqtamI9A_AikvZ5xUrp-WgL1qGD0mGyU1CLrWwhw6eBDo7gAMdKQZ7JOHMShvt9-BAobOws5WfpHruDXcyyAQIw_2qY/s1600/Katherine+Gorge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFIPMqFcLy5ME_7Q-NdrEcavWXocNU_eEzifNLTfLbnLFIbHgcUqtamI9A_AikvZ5xUrp-WgL1qGD0mGyU1CLrWwhw6eBDo7gAMdKQZ7JOHMShvt9-BAobOws5WfpHruDXcyyAQIw_2qY/s400/Katherine+Gorge.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Katherine Gorge</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It was about 22 hours from Broome to Katherine on the bus, and I arrived there at an awkward time, about 5 am. Too early to check in anywhere, I decided to just suck-up the tiredness and cycle 30Km to Katherine Gorge, check that place out and then cycle back into Katherine for late morning/early afternoon.<br />
<br />
I'm glad I went out there, the gorge was very nice and it gave me a chance to stretch my legs and do some exercise after 22 hours of sitting. When I got back though, I was ready for a good rest, so settled-in to a cheap hostel that let me camp for just $11, a discounted rate for cyclists.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY1u_o9WY-3Gxlsi-eDySB9D8oUudx8gjFHhZNxzqICvAEr2y2bqipN7GdtcjLEuoWXIqJ6IK5FA2NrZwM31V1LofUvBUnntRvzQDmc1k87RyECniC-mFAG7R8uWYQyzD8daMq3rMeaWw/s1600/Agile+wallaby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY1u_o9WY-3Gxlsi-eDySB9D8oUudx8gjFHhZNxzqICvAEr2y2bqipN7GdtcjLEuoWXIqJ6IK5FA2NrZwM31V1LofUvBUnntRvzQDmc1k87RyECniC-mFAG7R8uWYQyzD8daMq3rMeaWw/s400/Agile+wallaby.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A wallaby looking for food just outside of the visitors centre.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I stayed in Katherine for a few days waiting for the next bus and continued my morning exercise routine. On the final morning, I headed-out for a run to the hot springs, which were actually very pleasant on quite a chilly morning. There were few people around at that time also.<br />
<br />
After another 8 hours, I had arrived in Tennant Creek at about 2am in the morning. Tennant Creek is not a great place to be arriving at such a time. It's not a pretty town and the bars on the windows of every single shop tell you a bit of a story about how safe you feel there. Fortunately, we were dropped at the far North end of town, so I quickly threw everything on my bike and cycled out of town and found a place to camp.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCseJhwjhGhWFJ5zzS4C6SYN0IQRioSQIhRewxWFBu9udvQm-bWe_qFKuwbgwwsUDxB3Zr5bK7hHM8PmqD5ZWgAOCaXIRcX8odAOdONJO1lT_Np-Nu1zfM48ZBRMxR3wq7pKDsgezWbag/s1600/Katherine+springs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCseJhwjhGhWFJ5zzS4C6SYN0IQRioSQIhRewxWFBu9udvQm-bWe_qFKuwbgwwsUDxB3Zr5bK7hHM8PmqD5ZWgAOCaXIRcX8odAOdONJO1lT_Np-Nu1zfM48ZBRMxR3wq7pKDsgezWbag/s400/Katherine+springs.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
I had a bit of time the next morning and luckily managed to find a decent gym to have a workout in and get a shower before tackling the biggest trip yet, from Tennant Creek to Townsville, another 28 hours! I am only now realising how bloody far this trip on the bus was now I am writing about it.<br />
<br />
I managed to entertain myself with some podcasts and learning a bit of Japanese, but this was almost as tough as riding.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiiQFkeh_YqOo6wU4PKf66svmfCzXX1dHD54gyrhx8___MUQHcW60imGAsF28BUYXhMjiwhezYFGxyTMRGq3ZKgaV_-M7ZvT9RQCr0CMNZtSZat7ujUkIrC1Km-q9R3XXAufCNXNb3Ze4/s1600/Townsville+sf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiiQFkeh_YqOo6wU4PKf66svmfCzXX1dHD54gyrhx8___MUQHcW60imGAsF28BUYXhMjiwhezYFGxyTMRGq3ZKgaV_-M7ZvT9RQCr0CMNZtSZat7ujUkIrC1Km-q9R3XXAufCNXNb3Ze4/s400/Townsville+sf.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
After a short break in Townsville, and riding along the very beautiful shorefront, the final leg was a paltry 6 hours up to Cairns. I couldn't wait to get there, in total I had spent 64 hours on the bus over the week!<br />
<br />
So, what an epic trip on so many levels. This is living; it's living the life of a millionaire sometimes, while only working 10 hours a week. But this trip wasn't just relaxing and sipping pina coladas on the beach, this was hardwork, discipline, suffering, discomfort, and despair intermingled with some of the most awe-inspiring experiences it is possible to imagine. It might not be everyone's cup of tea, but I sure like it.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIRD5ix3LzXXlesFvNADcAUEWrFfqmrI7iOGcwDgvu-HRz-hBMJVuY3nrpECowLEPQ2ou3wIEJuvIm51sUM47t0fpiBy5NEd6KIvQntAxCGkNC5ZsuTruhYDLik1zToiu_UwfC5_rXfc8/s1600/Queensland+coast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIRD5ix3LzXXlesFvNADcAUEWrFfqmrI7iOGcwDgvu-HRz-hBMJVuY3nrpECowLEPQ2ou3wIEJuvIm51sUM47t0fpiBy5NEd6KIvQntAxCGkNC5ZsuTruhYDLik1zToiu_UwfC5_rXfc8/s400/Queensland+coast.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The North Queensland coast at a little snack break stop from Townsville to Cairns.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Australia isn't finished quite yet, though. I am now in Cairns for almost a month and a half, and there is plenty of adventure up here, both on land and sea, so looking forward to being in one - incredibly beautiful - place for a while to do some running, hiking, cycling, and scuba diving. It really really is outdoor heaven in this part of the world.Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-27663260009120172752018-06-30T19:22:00.000-07:002018-06-30T19:22:44.337-07:00Shark Bay to an Early Finish in Broome<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1UDnnBqo1xYWP9s6xb8YdhAOXq_AW0KBpyfTvvy-b8ihyphenhyphenxJck4FNSefuDZD65KtUB2mQxfORpGfLmIdvtoO4vbrj92Xq-nOMIPGA664zCajMAbpOjafy_JUrIN1hBxYtntB2I75EC_XE/s1600/Shark+bay+to+broome.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="596" data-original-width="703" height="337" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1UDnnBqo1xYWP9s6xb8YdhAOXq_AW0KBpyfTvvy-b8ihyphenhyphenxJck4FNSefuDZD65KtUB2mQxfORpGfLmIdvtoO4vbrj92Xq-nOMIPGA664zCajMAbpOjafy_JUrIN1hBxYtntB2I75EC_XE/s400/Shark+bay+to+broome.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Obviously, while I was in Shark Bay the winds had been blowing from the south, and when I left they were still blowing that way, which meant more suffering. As I turned back northward, they switched to northerlies again. By the time I had made it to Carnarvon I was well and truly exhausted and fed up.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnTo3GkTpAYfgXlWAlmTVYCSQG0PpnePI7wr_FMXZ0vR4bRbiAHUoo630vCGF-MfHxs8JD3PnuYXomtqB9ug7sL3dYv8-9v0DKU6X1YLGQDaeZWnKwzWudoxiqi0PvxHF9W4D_jUVBNeM/s1600/Carnarvon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnTo3GkTpAYfgXlWAlmTVYCSQG0PpnePI7wr_FMXZ0vR4bRbiAHUoo630vCGF-MfHxs8JD3PnuYXomtqB9ug7sL3dYv8-9v0DKU6X1YLGQDaeZWnKwzWudoxiqi0PvxHF9W4D_jUVBNeM/s400/Carnarvon.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shorefront in Carnarvon.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I had 3 days in Carnarvon working and rested-up in a caravan park free of charge as the people who ran it were on warmshowers. I didn't really see them much but they had done some extraordinary adventures on every continent using all different kinds of transport, including cycling, riding across Mongolia on horseback, canoeing, sailing, and much more.<br />
<br />
There wasn't much to do in Carnarvon, like many outback towns it looked like it had seen it heyday and was now gradually deteriorating. This has been the story of most rural towns with an industrial background, whereas the towns that had some natural wonders to offer tourists were going in the opposite direction. Two of those towns were ahead of me, Coral Bay and Exmouth, both situated on or near the Ningaloo Reef, one of the biggest areas of shoreline coral reef anywhere in the world.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFDk2ATGpudo8fvL0kwlfd4NIfmEarTbnoDTTi8IcI_6306VMXfClaspNw_HAJSTc345JXoJFgwhdY0iPRevFUF68JvCNqjpFk4eP2ozZpeEqAAG9xrRdIRxJOXpQPeQlDcSFZCCIU6EA/s1600/Coral+Bay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFDk2ATGpudo8fvL0kwlfd4NIfmEarTbnoDTTi8IcI_6306VMXfClaspNw_HAJSTc345JXoJFgwhdY0iPRevFUF68JvCNqjpFk4eP2ozZpeEqAAG9xrRdIRxJOXpQPeQlDcSFZCCIU6EA/s400/Coral+Bay.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The lagoon in Coral Bay. Just 20 metres offshore were some huge coral reef structures and beautiful marine life.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This was a part of the tour I was really looking forward to, but yet again the weather was to have different ideas. Another storm came through while I was staying in Coral Bay, limiting the amount of time I could get in the water. I worked around it, but on the day of my arrival it was blowing a gale and the lagoon was choppy to say the least.<br />
<br />
I thought about whether I should go out in the windy weather, but the odd person was snorkeling and it was quite warm, so I thought I should or I'd risk not getting into the water at all with the forecast for the next couple of days (it hadn't rained in about 6 months before I arrived). I'm glad I got in as the coral structures literally about 20 metres offshore were huge, which obviously attracted a lot of marine life.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVbPF4ojSLcgNw5Sz8UDCANKJr-BmP_fwM_qzvn0akvFEmg3ltc5lFVmQuzOodBkWhRZAwbRNusrrBOtYeReNe1TM1XuudVk_yIf3wiuvJNjCJj_1cnXeRzQjHM-oCtHtGj4RE_QyqEAo/s1600/Weather+gauge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVbPF4ojSLcgNw5Sz8UDCANKJr-BmP_fwM_qzvn0akvFEmg3ltc5lFVmQuzOodBkWhRZAwbRNusrrBOtYeReNe1TM1XuudVk_yIf3wiuvJNjCJj_1cnXeRzQjHM-oCtHtGj4RE_QyqEAo/s400/Weather+gauge.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was swinging, in the wrong direction, always in the wrong direction.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I reconnected with many of the fish I once was so familiar with from my time diving in Fiji about ten years ago. While I was there I had done about 50 dives, most of them survey dives around the island of Gau. I had to learn all the names of the fish to do this, and I recognised many of the same species, as well as some new ones.<br />
<br />
While in Fiji I got a fleeting glimpse of a sea turtle underwater, and I had seen many in Shark Bay from the boat, but in the choppy water of Coral Bay with perhaps unusually few people in the water, I had the pleasure of swimming with one for about 15 minutes. It eyed me up a few times, but seemed mostly unconcerned with my presence as it went about feeding off the algae on the coral and occasionally going up for a gulp of air. It made me wish I had an underwater camera, but I appreciated the moment of my own personal swim with one of the world's most loved sea creatures.<br />
<br />
The next day the heavens opened and the winds blew harder and all there was to do was use-up my mobile data surfing the internet. There wasn't even any wifi as the remoteness of Coral Bay meant their wifi was incredibly unreliable. I was truly bored.<br />
<br />
I had to leave the following day, but not before getting in another snorkel, this time for much longer. The weather was much cooler, however, so I did it on and off for about 3 hours before the cold got the better of me.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGSre3aj_6qLpF1M3GiWSvqwS6VvweiI2e5Nao6-FeKVY73gTBfx_n97turgVS81sTLRDcHJc2bnF-5ErQCFBDDq-yd21WgjEnheUYE7Q58GnVTVM0tr1ULglqbR4Xw8_B26SMO_26C6o/s1600/DSC07054.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGSre3aj_6qLpF1M3GiWSvqwS6VvweiI2e5Nao6-FeKVY73gTBfx_n97turgVS81sTLRDcHJc2bnF-5ErQCFBDDq-yd21WgjEnheUYE7Q58GnVTVM0tr1ULglqbR4Xw8_B26SMO_26C6o/s400/DSC07054.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This photo demonstrates nicely the scale of these creatures.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Then it was off to Exmouth on the North West Cape. I hadn't planned to go here, but there were a few reasons I decided to go; they had a squash club, the Cape looked an interesting place to explore, and their Whale Shark diving packages were better than Coral Bay. Because I hadn't planned to go there, and the weather still being terrible, I decided to hop on a bus taking the opportunity to have an extended few days off the bike.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY_Cu8XjWXfH34hjVn35izH-MY-lqpZBXi2rJ66FG81Ub8hMRWOFUo_Mseqsu_bz7C1RpJXwfXjOz9HHnaYinXSNvPi4u9r-_l3ppLXAFBk1P6PpMq55nA9i0VH8z02D_j9oZ-0onEMp8/s1600/DSC07075.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY_Cu8XjWXfH34hjVn35izH-MY-lqpZBXi2rJ66FG81Ub8hMRWOFUo_Mseqsu_bz7C1RpJXwfXjOz9HHnaYinXSNvPi4u9r-_l3ppLXAFBk1P6PpMq55nA9i0VH8z02D_j9oZ-0onEMp8/s400/DSC07075.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Had to kick pretty hard to keep up with this one.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I'm really glad I went to Exmouth. The principle reason I went there was for the Whale Sharks, and that was another unforgettable experience, the squash was also good, and I did some great camping on the Cape, in fact some of the best of the trip. I was, however, tremendously disappointed with the town of Exmouth itself.<br />
<br />
Exmouth is a tough place to get to, it's way out there at the north-west tip of Australia, with no big towns or cities anywhere near it. It is a small town which attracts people because of Ningaloo Reef, for the Whale Sharks and all sorts of other spectacular marine life. The reef is truly remarkable, but it felt like the town was selling it's soul for the tourist's dollars. The place is still not that developed, it doesn't feel touristy, but the locals want the money off anyone who comes and the town and accommodation seemed like it was set-up to squeeze every last cent from whoever went there.<br />
<br />
Of course, when you have this feeling, you become slightly embittered by everything and try to squeeze every little advantage out of your stay, creating an adversarial atmosphere and not much joy. The YHA I stayed at for a couple of nights was like this; the staff were rude and boy did they not like to make your stay convenient. In return, this created a really bad vibe with the guests, as no one washed-up, cleaned-up after themselves and no one seemed happy. I couldn't wait to get out of there, and once I did my work, I shot-off for some free camping on the peninsula.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipyu4uIXIkFYKE_SWMwTaoL6uOMdrJdXo9CRYQTXMAdtDJjMC5ywgZTdlf3-yrrBOhPbujWp6Qyt0K4ZkA3uWJvZF_TTG4hnAELNZIyjPJGFUcjo6G0sCUFKqsh0LauY8htgWfu3HZ65I/s1600/Sunrise+nc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipyu4uIXIkFYKE_SWMwTaoL6uOMdrJdXo9CRYQTXMAdtDJjMC5ywgZTdlf3-yrrBOhPbujWp6Qyt0K4ZkA3uWJvZF_TTG4hnAELNZIyjPJGFUcjo6G0sCUFKqsh0LauY8htgWfu3HZ65I/s400/Sunrise+nc.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I was originally going to stay another night and have the Whale Shark tour company pick me up from the hostel, but instead I cycled around to the boat ramp on the other side of the peninsula, camping halfway overnight.<br />
<br />
The boat ramp was literally just a ramp with a few vessels offshore, it was all incredibly small-scale and remote, which made it feel quite special. I was also not on an especially big boat and with only 15 others, so it wasn't overly crowded. After a bit of a briefing, we first entered the water inside the coral lagoon to test our gear and look at the marine life around the shallow coral areas. There were some black tip reef sharks and one huge stingray, which the photographer on the boat got a couple of wonderful pictures of.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7djiXPRzVEayGKsnZNHgDThxy7M5pxKXrkcX6GpfkzahrEYjxoLIs5sGhuDXr81mAe-3vGN5_nXCH22fy3G7FOBEEa8fr6-IZn2co1H_H-LpZaxbxBDCpPfz0Venznb7GIT3W9RVYd64/s1600/Stingray.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1018" data-original-width="1600" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7djiXPRzVEayGKsnZNHgDThxy7M5pxKXrkcX6GpfkzahrEYjxoLIs5sGhuDXr81mAe-3vGN5_nXCH22fy3G7FOBEEa8fr6-IZn2co1H_H-LpZaxbxBDCpPfz0Venznb7GIT3W9RVYd64/s400/Stingray.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Then it was the main event. There were a number of companies running similar tours in different areas and they all shared the cost of a spotter plane. Once the whale sharks were spotted from above the boat was carefully positioned quite a distance away from them, then Dave the photographer, entered the water, swam towards it and gave directions about where to drop us in the water. There were strict rules about where to position ourselves in order not to disrupt it's normal behaviour or get in it's way. I immediately broke these rules accidentally, as I got a kick in the face from another swimmer just at the wrong time as the shark changed direction, so my first view, as the bubbles cleared, of a whale shark was of it's huge mouth coming right at me and then almost brushing past me, just a few centimetres off it's side. We were meant to be at least 3 metres from it's side and 4 metres from it's tail, and never directly in front of it. I broke all those rules on my very first interaction, but it wasn't my fault (it was an unforgettable lucky close encounter though).<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMClfYZLMUU5R6wcMj78h-h9pvzU_g3Fn1Pz1A3r0EHvl2uPB-AdHVPVNt202wgEfZk3q-5IXmwfZwk6RZ2Rq_xQd8-8RNjkMtz2hX2boYo_CeMEQD0wd2HoBgdEOqUWiqcyskQ2c4ad4/s1600/Whale+shark.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMClfYZLMUU5R6wcMj78h-h9pvzU_g3Fn1Pz1A3r0EHvl2uPB-AdHVPVNt202wgEfZk3q-5IXmwfZwk6RZ2Rq_xQd8-8RNjkMtz2hX2boYo_CeMEQD0wd2HoBgdEOqUWiqcyskQ2c4ad4/s400/Whale+shark.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
We were in and out of the water several times over the next two hours with 6 different sharks, as they came up to the surface and dived down out of sight. On a few occasions we got extended swims as they stayed just beneath the surface for some time. It's the biggest thing I've ever seen underwater, and they are actually very pretty sharks, covered in spots. The scale of them was quite something, but the whale sharks at Ningaloo are only juveniles, the biggest we saw was about 8 metres long. Adult whale sharks can grow to twice the size!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCul1-C8LuMI4Ery6XmYyy72wXSWpTF8XdNF9dX1VHT6ySaPdYfa39_UVJ4nULqdTDWegFS9agmKm9zy02BZJdeZrRGEdtj3A_2Y3N9yTYMPm_hz9RgtUHA3aMbwKYTqCU4Bjw_wM4Yjk/s1600/Stingray+moving.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCul1-C8LuMI4Ery6XmYyy72wXSWpTF8XdNF9dX1VHT6ySaPdYfa39_UVJ4nULqdTDWegFS9agmKm9zy02BZJdeZrRGEdtj3A_2Y3N9yTYMPm_hz9RgtUHA3aMbwKYTqCU4Bjw_wM4Yjk/s400/Stingray+moving.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
It was an awesome day and after I had just enough time to squeeze in another snorkel as I made camp on a secluded beach for the night. With only a mild current in the water, but without fins, I did begin to feel a bit vulnerable out there on my own, so I didn't stray far and started to get a bit freaked out so came back a bit early. I am not a confident swimmer, but with a mask and snorkel, I feel quite comfortable, however being on my own as the sun is going down with not a soul around to help if I got in trouble made me rather sensibly worry, I think.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigF3e6Yj0iUmhC29Gxx6ROyPsQWoet4o6X3SxHlRtsOTUFrBUNFo4DbAa5j60umQNSo2VVdxXbOv6g6cc2HFXFxZE5PZQTm_Odtls_XmgJwOvEtZtJDbPHl_7XnhglhdKSJo3hgzHS7Sw/s1600/Camping+north+cape.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigF3e6Yj0iUmhC29Gxx6ROyPsQWoet4o6X3SxHlRtsOTUFrBUNFo4DbAa5j60umQNSo2VVdxXbOv6g6cc2HFXFxZE5PZQTm_Odtls_XmgJwOvEtZtJDbPHl_7XnhglhdKSJo3hgzHS7Sw/s400/Camping+north+cape.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was some fantastic coastal camping on the Cape, even though technically, I shouldn't have been there. You do need to break some rules when bicycle touring from time to time though.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After another night camping on the Cape, I returned to Exmouth (it was a dead-end road, you had to return) and picked-up the photos before hopping on a bus and getting it to drop me to the point I would have been without the detour. I was now heading to a town called Tom Price, gateway into Karijini National Park.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyKAp7aLTS4FVnKX30p6yFrzaoJsIe4AgkCXWTKTqDkc3DikfFGwJicVYwf48lzVC_nYMGFlKAFIbNEanzmGdv-S5hh-1meubHiHHKCqziQKE9iQYOrX6UL0EfJg82YT0HtfUwIvWkmEo/s1600/Tom+Price+squash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyKAp7aLTS4FVnKX30p6yFrzaoJsIe4AgkCXWTKTqDkc3DikfFGwJicVYwf48lzVC_nYMGFlKAFIbNEanzmGdv-S5hh-1meubHiHHKCqziQKE9iQYOrX6UL0EfJg82YT0HtfUwIvWkmEo/s400/Tom+Price+squash.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Handy place to camp.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Karijini was one of those uniquely Australian places I wanted to visit. Part of the ancient Pilbara range, the area is not only home to a heck of a lot of iron ore, but also a haven for geologists because the region holds some of the oldest rocks on earth. In fact, one of these geologists was a squash player who kindly let me spend a night in the squash club in Tom Price.<br />
<br />
Karijini was predictably a couple of days riding into another stiff headwind, but it was well worth it. Beautiful sculpted gorges with pools of water for swimming, and some unique walks. The hills were actually also quite welcome after all the flat into the wind cycling I had been experiencing.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtBqZxFg3oAdRJRuuIOCIYlOD9Mry9VlD4Gf_KGvHPUtdTD6Vfj3n1iSnsFgX4hTQ5WdKYxO2H36vGZD6VY8U4UYeNaEs05fRageuz8YRnLLaagMlXrdUPLZpZgt-1Wsi3zMoyAV9auaM/s1600/Me+Hancock+Gorge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtBqZxFg3oAdRJRuuIOCIYlOD9Mry9VlD4Gf_KGvHPUtdTD6Vfj3n1iSnsFgX4hTQ5WdKYxO2H36vGZD6VY8U4UYeNaEs05fRageuz8YRnLLaagMlXrdUPLZpZgt-1Wsi3zMoyAV9auaM/s400/Me+Hancock+Gorge.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
The first area of gorges was 14Km down a very rough dirt road, and I wasn't happy taking my bike the whole way up and back, so I parked it up at a camping area and ran there instead. I figured that I might thumb a lift as well, but I had to run about 7Km before this happened. A nice couple picked me up and I kept on running into them for the rest of the day, meeting them at various points on different walks, and then also they picked me up just as I was starting to run back, which was very handy.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJInoD3_1Za5_PfhR74oFlRtsNIX0sC88dYcZFiLb81H6BmXuwlUuEssB9YFhU76wdUD30cRiBU9HuCQ46ROTxl1bowxP-NwbEKhc6Ms5BhvBFVXuCMb9lcKjy1fVf4yUpqvXqzjZj-iU/s1600/Me+hancock+pool.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJInoD3_1Za5_PfhR74oFlRtsNIX0sC88dYcZFiLb81H6BmXuwlUuEssB9YFhU76wdUD30cRiBU9HuCQ46ROTxl1bowxP-NwbEKhc6Ms5BhvBFVXuCMb9lcKjy1fVf4yUpqvXqzjZj-iU/s400/Me+hancock+pool.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
There were a series of short, but adventurous walks in Karijini where you had to wade through waist-high water, climb across the walls of the gorge, and even straddle both sides of the narrow gorge to get through. I was a little concerned by this as I had my phone with me and falling in was not an option. I carefully made my way through, though, and drank directly from the gorge water along the way using my trusty lifestraw, which was very useful as I didn't have to lug any water bottles around with me. This will surely be of great benefit in New Zealand where there should be plenty of water flowing. I haven't had much of a chance to use it in Australia as there is almost no water that isn't buried some metres underground.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQO8LOBFmPe0ajyreB2SNX0upxGhTxflVs2MsMR-V0toZ_hgYPg-sVlyUBGBEtsPuVz1Ttgw4b_rnB4MkqYPQRZdNWxsxebZlPjMWM8aJ8Uxs4oN41iCtxTywxYZVYmAJsvGmOun5Hng/s1600/Weano+Gorge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQO8LOBFmPe0ajyreB2SNX0upxGhTxflVs2MsMR-V0toZ_hgYPg-sVlyUBGBEtsPuVz1Ttgw4b_rnB4MkqYPQRZdNWxsxebZlPjMWM8aJ8Uxs4oN41iCtxTywxYZVYmAJsvGmOun5Hng/s400/Weano+Gorge.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I couldn't quite capture how spectacularly deep some of these gorges were with the pictures. They were quite vertigo inducing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
At the other end of the park were a series of other gorges, slightly less severe, but actually more picturesque and I had another great walk through Dales gorge the next day. It was an exhausting couple of days; over 100Km of cycling and about 3 hours of walking and running on both days.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLRHL3VvjQSrPB70wjC5VExQX-aHIRpOpe1cRLPhd6MCM3Z7XWeJ9gti7psnSvkabPFdgL6Wk8fxjmD716UfFBLv5v6KD4Y96WtdfGFx14lnBGLE4haPk3iYlMayUoUp6BJFUxoNfZKqQ/s1600/Dales+Gorge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLRHL3VvjQSrPB70wjC5VExQX-aHIRpOpe1cRLPhd6MCM3Z7XWeJ9gti7psnSvkabPFdgL6Wk8fxjmD716UfFBLv5v6KD4Y96WtdfGFx14lnBGLE4haPk3iYlMayUoUp6BJFUxoNfZKqQ/s400/Dales+Gorge.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dales Gorge</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After leaving Karijini, I made my way north towards Port Hedland on the Great Northern Highway, a road frequented by lots of road trains carrying 4 huge trailers of iron ore. I met a Frenchman cycling in the same direction and rode with him for some time. This was the first time I had met someone traveling in the same direction as me on a bike for the whole tour - in fact any tour I have done. I seem to have the knack of going at different times and/or in opposite directions to everybody else (this seems to be the story of my life). We stopped for lunch and discovered he was eating almost exactly the same food as me, even the same brands; wraps, carrots, peanuts, oats, etc. I guess there are only so many kinds of food you can fit into your bags that won't go off in the heat.<br />
<br />
While cycling with him, however, I heard that dreaded twanging sound of a broken spoke. Man have I had some issues with my back wheel on this tour. I couldn't travel another 200Km on it so I had to flag down a lift and fortunately a lone traveller from Belgium helped me out and got me to Port Hedland. With no bike shops in town, I was forced to hop on a bus to Broome. During this time I reflected on the rest of this planned tour in Australia.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQAm3lsrVipWCBGSjaswihGcWhefrM1wBuvYn9Q8T4dJZliNoWbRS_GP-fVLopne4yKi3q28zlriqzbSHj1oafo5aEoIw_Owm1PU2Or9mjCG_gyoxUE6CBxec9qFBWzkbz5EHtpv4Ms8E/s1600/Pilbara+road.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQAm3lsrVipWCBGSjaswihGcWhefrM1wBuvYn9Q8T4dJZliNoWbRS_GP-fVLopne4yKi3q28zlriqzbSHj1oafo5aEoIw_Owm1PU2Or9mjCG_gyoxUE6CBxec9qFBWzkbz5EHtpv4Ms8E/s400/Pilbara+road.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
It occurred to me that the cycling was pretty grim. The winds would now be guaranteed to be permanently against me and stronger all the way to Cairns. There was also nothing to see off the main sealed roads either. There were some great places to cycle, but these areas needed a different kind of bike with wider tyres and less of a load. On my mind since the Ningaloo reef was also the desire to get back into scuba diving. And on top of all this I was getting dangerously close to not being able to work reliably on the road, having a number of close calls with classes. The stress of it all was starting to make things unenjoyable.<br />
<br />
Another consideration was that my back wheel was becoming very unreliable. The areas going East to Cairns were some of the least well-supported on the trip, with few stops and less grey nomads travelling around also. More bike problems, this time in hotter, dryer conditions, seemed an unacceptable risk. I couldn't keep flagging-down kind strangers to help me. In New Zealand I can take such risks because towns are never that far away, but Australia is not a place to be doubting your equipment.<br />
<br />
With all this in mind then, I made the call to finish the cycling in Broome and get on a bus to Cairns and spend a month or two there in a place where I could work easily online, do quite a bit of scuba diving, play a bit of squash, go to the gym and be kind to my body for a while before jumping on the bike again in New Zealand.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigMNut6bDctldJYZRGpBquR7EKbJuUorITWHa7gD1ToYqAjLY5UfyzSDXJrqW093PuMNe2u1prtqIVhd4bk3m93vV7zzPba38u8XfS4RghuG_eiWsIXq12yAUdny6KlF1ZSZWLubDdtWY/s1600/Cable+beach+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigMNut6bDctldJYZRGpBquR7EKbJuUorITWHa7gD1ToYqAjLY5UfyzSDXJrqW093PuMNe2u1prtqIVhd4bk3m93vV7zzPba38u8XfS4RghuG_eiWsIXq12yAUdny6KlF1ZSZWLubDdtWY/s400/Cable+beach+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cable beach in Broome</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
At nearly 4 months, this was my longest cycle tour and there had been some epic experiences within it. Australia is a country of amazing nature, it is not as scenic as New Zealand, for example, but there are few places that can match it for uniqueness and experiences with wildlife and some of the most uninhabited wilderness areas on the planet. It was these wildlife encounters that were the highlight of the tour for me.<br />
<br />
One of the great things about traveling in this way is that it gives you time to reflect; you ask yourself some hard questions and you understand yourself a little better. I learned a few things from this trip, the first being that I am not someone who can jump on a bike and go on a super-long bicycle tour, like some do for perhaps a year or longer. One of the main reasons for this is general health and fitness, actually. One would think cycle touring would make you pretty fit, and yes it does, but in one very specific way. In actual fact, I began to feel slow, less agile, and less powerful. I tried to workout differently on the road when I could, but it was very difficult due to fatigue from the bike and a lack of routine. Add to this the less than perfect diet also, and I don't think long-term bicycle touring is especially great for my health and fitness, and that is something I am very much concerned with.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixeyPqV8qsAnRdc2ZIgroaLQj1BycXDsPH_19m0bQYKTVHYilrNXcaGH-Pn8UHqswV5nzh4x3Q4ocnf914tznRoBaAG8ijqhJ0zXpBIhH-SjqIiYy4ncxZMetPprFE9pxzkrUvrClFWUE/s1600/Moab+tree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixeyPqV8qsAnRdc2ZIgroaLQj1BycXDsPH_19m0bQYKTVHYilrNXcaGH-Pn8UHqswV5nzh4x3Q4ocnf914tznRoBaAG8ijqhJ0zXpBIhH-SjqIiYy4ncxZMetPprFE9pxzkrUvrClFWUE/s400/Moab+tree.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boab tree near town beach in Broome.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Another thing I learned from visiting many different places on this trip is that going forward I need to live somewhere that is not a big city like Melbourne, but also not too isolated. On top of this, I really need to live somewhere that has some outdoor adventure on it's doorstep. My hometown in England, Colchester, is the right size, but is fairly devoid of natural beauty and that part of England certainly doesn't encourage an outdoor lifestyle. This is a real conundrum for me, as I do miss my family and friends back home, but I do find that it isn't long before I get tired of the lack of adventure in Colchester. It is like a drug habit that I just can't kick, the adventure and the nature is what makes life meaningful for me.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLwFRAA6fFaIloAvfk1qVVjvv3Oj8kQLURpxCEGTcQFjBGdWXKRcho1Iw3e0paNYlVAS-hVamVyIEJjQgfb7Dwav2CAiKjuHO642B37qmsu4rSq78YrzI5i-j-zDF8HsQiq0aKWnk7xE/s1600/Cable+beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLwFRAA6fFaIloAvfk1qVVjvv3Oj8kQLURpxCEGTcQFjBGdWXKRcho1Iw3e0paNYlVAS-hVamVyIEJjQgfb7Dwav2CAiKjuHO642B37qmsu4rSq78YrzI5i-j-zDF8HsQiq0aKWnk7xE/s400/Cable+beach.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sun setting on Cable beach and on the cycling in Australia.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
One of my general problems in life is that, despite my slightly right-leaning political persuasion, I am extremely open to new ideas. This means different notions about what to do in life ping around in my brain from moment to moment, which makes it incredibly difficult for me to settle on one direction, profession, or place in life. With the stresses, strains, highs, and lows of a bicycle tour, and with the time to think, observing my thoughts on where I am going is intriguing. Ideas come and go, especially in moments of hardship and of exhilaration, of which there are many when traveling in such a way. It is a nice problem to have, though, in this day and age experiencing the world is so manageable and the range of truly life-enriching possibilities is almost endless.<br />
<br />
This tour has given me a clearer idea of what I'm looking for in a place to live more permanently, but the adventures aren't over yet (I can't imagine they'll ever truly finish anyway). New Zealand looms large in a couple of months, and plans are formulating for 2019 already, in fact next year is set to be even more exciting if everything goes to plan.<br />
<br />
The full tour map; it doesn't follow the exact route as this is hard to do on Google Maps, and doesn't take into account the many detours I did, so I think the approximate distance covered, minus the odd bus trip is about 7500-8000Km on the bike. Not quite as far as I intended, but still a bloody long way.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQE9O4k7Cnc43CR0gFB6bsJ6sIUkVn2qngsBlqp8hPD00jdiEnZK8JYdOZuMIqd-UueIu0Y-uO6HONjdcUCWv-mmM2hydZy9vwjhoG3Tgy76vc0emygOroaZW4syiJFipcBDN9h0xx4WE/s1600/The+whole+trip.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="598" data-original-width="876" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQE9O4k7Cnc43CR0gFB6bsJ6sIUkVn2qngsBlqp8hPD00jdiEnZK8JYdOZuMIqd-UueIu0Y-uO6HONjdcUCWv-mmM2hydZy9vwjhoG3Tgy76vc0emygOroaZW4syiJFipcBDN9h0xx4WE/s640/The+whole+trip.PNG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4535127148249891479.post-77463933818246541972018-06-02T21:11:00.001-07:002018-06-02T21:11:28.688-07:00Perth to Shark Bay - Detours, Ups, and Downs.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC_OaGJs0GrWo_pVu8qcn1D0lwhcJG9UduPvGN2xTGd-Fb_XQinHWXpBC5AxjnD9Q94Sjw3tWlTPehwt80eDhOeRyhzYvo-X2HNYrB18WXCOntzy2zonY_nMUXuM-oF_guS7W1DMjDI3g/s1600/perth+to+shark+bay.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="553" data-original-width="696" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC_OaGJs0GrWo_pVu8qcn1D0lwhcJG9UduPvGN2xTGd-Fb_XQinHWXpBC5AxjnD9Q94Sjw3tWlTPehwt80eDhOeRyhzYvo-X2HNYrB18WXCOntzy2zonY_nMUXuM-oF_guS7W1DMjDI3g/s400/perth+to+shark+bay.PNG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
It was great to have a few days off in Perth and meet my wife and finally get her on a bike. We started-off with a mini tandem day cycle tour of Rottnest Island to have a look at the beautiful scenery and meet the quokkas, a kind of friendly, over-sized marsupial rat (Rottnest actually means "rat's nest" in dutch, I believe), with a quirky-shaped mouth which makes it look like it's smiling sometimes. They only exist on a couple of islands now as most of them died-out on the mainland, perhaps because of their trusting nature.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhthYya2u_8jRhd1tTJlAyjWZsMknsVZSh-ZM6GH_rmtYukPy64I1wZkJUWiN2WB0fxBfGveFcjqpiN4hBM_mmXUMskUuei4XbKD_yQrXXkZhHlMZS8eUtcdhouzroP5xqureu24SnT_NU/s1600/Quokka.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhthYya2u_8jRhd1tTJlAyjWZsMknsVZSh-ZM6GH_rmtYukPy64I1wZkJUWiN2WB0fxBfGveFcjqpiN4hBM_mmXUMskUuei4XbKD_yQrXXkZhHlMZS8eUtcdhouzroP5xqureu24SnT_NU/s400/Quokka.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOPVxejDmUHY-0oBwMZaLIa1gmhBVLxnfilB5N2rZY0cBGCBly0FfXOs5Ky4-q9ScXBPnp35Od2IpmsrdQi2eZM_GK4cUfhxsyhThsCSWWYqan5wDDrYCKCPdIkFox67BFzhF7Dz7M4-Q/s1600/Quokka+on+beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOPVxejDmUHY-0oBwMZaLIa1gmhBVLxnfilB5N2rZY0cBGCBly0FfXOs5Ky4-q9ScXBPnp35Od2IpmsrdQi2eZM_GK4cUfhxsyhThsCSWWYqan5wDDrYCKCPdIkFox67BFzhF7Dz7M4-Q/s400/Quokka+on+beach.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
As well as the fantastic wildlife, the island was very picturesque and we certainly picked the perfect day to visit, with not a cloud in the sky and hardly a breath of wind. Riding the tandem bike we rented was easier than I expected and definitely the best way to see the island. I worried that it would be a bit of a tourist trap, but with no cars on the island and the spread-out nature of things there, it really didn't feel that way at all and we had many vistas and quokka encounters all to ourselves.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKL7W-e9pdU5Rxp2d8zoQanr-0m3C8ogBy5dBK9CZtM_xjjOXI28_HE6o1c6LNut6pTpjdyR19r7oVIaXvXhHtbQvEqZAeu3uq8jqRbaaxC7C4GqJnQsTdCs-LIcjZqf_na90Msj5idgY/s1600/Me+and+eunji.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="960" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKL7W-e9pdU5Rxp2d8zoQanr-0m3C8ogBy5dBK9CZtM_xjjOXI28_HE6o1c6LNut6pTpjdyR19r7oVIaXvXhHtbQvEqZAeu3uq8jqRbaaxC7C4GqJnQsTdCs-LIcjZqf_na90Msj5idgY/s400/Me+and+eunji.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The quokkas are delightful little animals and are not in the least bit bothered by you, they are curious creatures and actually seem to enjoy having their picture taken, hence the latest craze of taking selfies with them, as they will happily sit right next to you and make it easy for you to take a picture with them.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE3SAGkJe-DSo7fP8MVmzQeDvMc_cd0JOAwBxyjlM2P7n5QkGlYVqLbVvzozYbnZymOqWBUtuSLcenuA773RbT3UgCUKIAWfhFAGU9ONuGQd3JBc13IWq8wOiokxHY255HpZZeyvijy3U/s1600/Eunji+tandem.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE3SAGkJe-DSo7fP8MVmzQeDvMc_cd0JOAwBxyjlM2P7n5QkGlYVqLbVvzozYbnZymOqWBUtuSLcenuA773RbT3UgCUKIAWfhFAGU9ONuGQd3JBc13IWq8wOiokxHY255HpZZeyvijy3U/s400/Eunji+tandem.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The next day we decided to take it easy and have a bit of culture in the evening. We have lived in Australia for nearly 4 years now and had never been to an AFL game. Coincidentally, the home side, the Fremantle Dockers, were playing St Kilda - where we live in Melbourne - at the new Optus Stadium, a beautiful new stadium seating about 50 000 people, just across the river from our accommodation. Tickets only cost about $30, so it seemed a nice way to spend a pleasantly warm evening.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEielQQF0IRoYBClD6BwkIGkawnkf6-DIQPXDNyOyx5Sn9MC0CODJPWkiIR0pLcmp7Zr1Kx4AYIltqqonOJAj6RHiL-R5JU4xniVIc0RDAdvAWW1zPv-Cx-8aawiOw5wNCqeBGY9u5kXF1o/s1600/AFL+game.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEielQQF0IRoYBClD6BwkIGkawnkf6-DIQPXDNyOyx5Sn9MC0CODJPWkiIR0pLcmp7Zr1Kx4AYIltqqonOJAj6RHiL-R5JU4xniVIc0RDAdvAWW1zPv-Cx-8aawiOw5wNCqeBGY9u5kXF1o/s400/AFL+game.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
St Kilda went down, but not before making a bit of a comeback after half-time, which made things more interesting towards the end. AFL is quite an entertaining game and I quite like how each side has their own silly song to come into and that they sing after the game when they win, a nice little touch.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV1rCsZODDZikwoq7bt1fqygSm1Yzg6bakFQlooPMpWkEuorIg_A5d2Ba0zTOMQZJ_geF5NASA5yy8GXbIo9lYBF44ttSVYhaSCmOHQB3WHYefvLIeUK7oSfjbh7i0rQMFYPd3pvOYxjM/s1600/Optus+at+night.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV1rCsZODDZikwoq7bt1fqygSm1Yzg6bakFQlooPMpWkEuorIg_A5d2Ba0zTOMQZJ_geF5NASA5yy8GXbIo9lYBF44ttSVYhaSCmOHQB3WHYefvLIeUK7oSfjbh7i0rQMFYPd3pvOYxjM/s400/Optus+at+night.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Perth is the quietest city I have ever been to, and we both couldn't believe how empty the centre of the city was. It is very odd coming from a busy Melbourne, it must be quite a nice place to live, but is perhaps a little too devoid of hustle and bustle for most city folk.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghzhefMYB-6EfkWBYkbBvGJRihXQNz_n-4nt4BYjOVByoy5LM7sugp2KvAKpjaUjGvIc2Ib2LhZ94GARJhcmD98So8LqAg8pbKHgmHeL6aBLWt0oRR88eKRXKUcoitkBaVnoGX75zIUeo/s1600/Optus+stadium+from+river.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghzhefMYB-6EfkWBYkbBvGJRihXQNz_n-4nt4BYjOVByoy5LM7sugp2KvAKpjaUjGvIc2Ib2LhZ94GARJhcmD98So8LqAg8pbKHgmHeL6aBLWt0oRR88eKRXKUcoitkBaVnoGX75zIUeo/s400/Optus+stadium+from+river.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
After about a week or so of not much cycling, and maybe two weeks of being around people and towns, I was quite looking forward to some time on the road again. I said goodbye to my wife and I caught the train out of the city to a suburb called Butler where I continued my journey.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Ooaz-TWMs7PrVR6ICPmZmGI7JUmlvuAS2y_GJtvR6TRO5ouoBv9nc4-fF6V4P_ZVVZWC_CF83iFwugow4ybVC8id9E8HiPKbZhmImSOdC26dsYUvdK-8DUDV82Ue8QdJejmG0Nj5Z-A/s1600/koala.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Ooaz-TWMs7PrVR6ICPmZmGI7JUmlvuAS2y_GJtvR6TRO5ouoBv9nc4-fF6V4P_ZVVZWC_CF83iFwugow4ybVC8id9E8HiPKbZhmImSOdC26dsYUvdK-8DUDV82Ue8QdJejmG0Nj5Z-A/s400/koala.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Very quickly, I got an unexpected bonus by coming across some koalas in a national park about 60Km north of Perth. Koalas are not native to Western Australia, but these had been rescued and somehow ended-up in a sanctuary within the park. There were several of them, most of them doing what they always do, sleeping that is, but I did manage to see a couple of others eating (the other thing they do), which was nice. I didn't think I'd get to see any koalas on this trip as they inhabit the eastern side of Australia mostly.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZlN2rv9b3LBZCCbNmbFdqryZVWeb2uKW_QVECrlthqCHc4YJCgxasBe0TVxKdB2tkfm1cR5dAXvpSWb3c6GMrp76M8cKoFUiIGif5xxAtcpU2j23aiF4zjb34kJL_Hb867EqSD1FYm1E/s1600/kangaroos+on+golf+course.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZlN2rv9b3LBZCCbNmbFdqryZVWeb2uKW_QVECrlthqCHc4YJCgxasBe0TVxKdB2tkfm1cR5dAXvpSWb3c6GMrp76M8cKoFUiIGif5xxAtcpU2j23aiF4zjb34kJL_Hb867EqSD1FYm1E/s400/kangaroos+on+golf+course.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
As well as the koalas, there were loads of kangaroos on a golf course that I passed-through close to the park, so it was a nice little afternoon of wildlife.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUg7tCpofCciuG98BpZbPeMs7-Za3QEZF5LsxsbNQbDk6Vnw7oHsbK0VX1ZN12u8eQJKhWW6Jy2Xj01YgKfncY4LeQJmqLLGOjB5RVWLeWpuF6h75S-vfm4tofwUBuh4Epwr3KrTVviCw/s1600/Lancelin+dunes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUg7tCpofCciuG98BpZbPeMs7-Za3QEZF5LsxsbNQbDk6Vnw7oHsbK0VX1ZN12u8eQJKhWW6Jy2Xj01YgKfncY4LeQJmqLLGOjB5RVWLeWpuF6h75S-vfm4tofwUBuh4Epwr3KrTVviCw/s400/Lancelin+dunes.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The pure white sand dunes of Lancelin.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After an overnight camp, the first town I arrived at was Lancelin, famous for it's pure white sand dunes. It was a bit of a detour, but I had 4 days to do about 400Km, which was plenty of time. Many people were sand-boarding down the dunes, but I have done something similar down a volcano in Nicaragua, so didn't feel the need to do it here. I just enjoyed the spectacle of the dunes, a new experience for me.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0yaLH0CEiXsxfY3OF213wjK6vd2OJ8a_QRwOYY6b4b4BwTdAW-nECClv5f-qHcD-nWCTbH9-ajwOGaIogiCHi9bKIQCDYKg4OURhauApchMVSrPMNoFt1WMJUU-jqwv09dVLZbhyphenhyphengyiU/s1600/Pinnacles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0yaLH0CEiXsxfY3OF213wjK6vd2OJ8a_QRwOYY6b4b4BwTdAW-nECClv5f-qHcD-nWCTbH9-ajwOGaIogiCHi9bKIQCDYKg4OURhauApchMVSrPMNoFt1WMJUU-jqwv09dVLZbhyphenhyphengyiU/s400/Pinnacles.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The next day, as I was heading to a town called Jurien Bay, I came across a turn-off for the Pinnacles Desert, a little place I had totally forgotten about visiting but came well-recommended, so off I went for another little detour. This one was well worth it. I arrived just after sunrise so the park was empty and the light was beautiful. Australia often doesn't have the awe-inspiring scenery of somewhere like New Zealand, but it makes up for it with uniqueness, and this was another one of those uniquely Australian destinations.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6lvSz4cB0tEroEf83tlKpLRYZFkIgms35YSEMeyPOsN-9D0spgoNN461DyLarrVhuTNe0glw4Q_Y6GsuTQv4pDUtZNKW6TnNFBa0Hncteto0BLNPqwmVgqUODemjxJpuLOgmBrR-G-a4/s1600/Me+pinnacles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6lvSz4cB0tEroEf83tlKpLRYZFkIgms35YSEMeyPOsN-9D0spgoNN461DyLarrVhuTNe0glw4Q_Y6GsuTQv4pDUtZNKW6TnNFBa0Hncteto0BLNPqwmVgqUODemjxJpuLOgmBrR-G-a4/s400/Me+pinnacles.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
How these pinnacles were formed in the desert is not known for sure and there are 3 theories as to how they came about, which I won't bore you too much with, but that you can look at <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Pinnacles_(Western_Australia)#Formation">here</a>. It certainly made for an interesting little ride on the well-maintained sandy road, just about rideable on my bike. The bright-yellow sand also made a nice contrast from the pure white sand on the coast.<br />
<br />
My first major stop, and the only town of any significant size for a very considerable distance, was Geraldton, where I planned on staying with another warmshowers host, having a game of squash, stocking-up on food, and doing some work. About 40Km from town, however, and I heard that dreaded twanging sound of a broken spoke, just what I feared would happen after repairing the last one. With only 40Km to go, I thought I'd chance riding it into town, and with such wide expanses of nothing ahead after Geraldton I thought it best to just get a new wheel. This was an annoying expense but at least I broke the spoke just before a major town with a bike shop, because after Geraldton I'd do well to find a bike shop for the next 2 or 3000Km, no joke.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRkOOArNVf5ldJSYc5JMik1uBVmXni8j5p4mq7e3ox6yuxb_Ok0EdlBPtsAE91OXLmIKFvwOmyuhmG-RP23EgGet0TED8v9dTt571WPHVcim0ZYpYDj8SxgSkXotYT-8zNRtfYw0bPpJY/s1600/kangaroos+on+roadside.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="321" data-original-width="429" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRkOOArNVf5ldJSYc5JMik1uBVmXni8j5p4mq7e3ox6yuxb_Ok0EdlBPtsAE91OXLmIKFvwOmyuhmG-RP23EgGet0TED8v9dTt571WPHVcim0ZYpYDj8SxgSkXotYT-8zNRtfYw0bPpJY/s400/kangaroos+on+roadside.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kangaroos on the roadside.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My hosts in Geraldton, Damon and Fiona, were very hospitable and set me up in a lovely little separate house in their back garden with every comfort I could ever want. I felt bad I kept missing them while I was there as everything we did never seemed to work out at the right time to do things together. We had some interesting chats, however, and as usual with my hosts on this trip, were very resourceful people and had done some amazing trips of their own.<br />
<br />
While I was in Geraldton, an old man who approached me in the town centre, he saw my bike and asked me about my trip. Extraordinarily, he told me he had cycled the whole way around Australia 4 times, in his seventies!! He was in his eighties now, but was dreaming about another big trip. He was from Canarvon, a small town about 800Km north and he offered to host me there and gave me his number, which was very nice. A few things to ponder on though; a) he cycle all around Australia, b) he did it in his 70s, c) he did it 4 times in his 70s, and d) he did it 4 times! Why would you do it 4 times!!??<br />
<br />
Like I have said before, just when you are feeling pretty darn good about yourself, thinking you are doing something pretty crazy and pretty great, there is always someone who is on completely another level. This chap was in Geraldton to tell his story to a local newspaper, he was literally on the way there when I met him.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU0jEuXIW3f2Dfn0rEQmGJ-Kds-a08dRWVMxZTsWrGr91ynZuAQrkm6GGRMueQeyGJfXHksWUYanRupDr9bo417IWFL-hVDktLIq58UEj3S-vJCudqYiA7_mZLFYJ6yBcTe3nyQ4C2ZbE/s1600/Pot+alley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU0jEuXIW3f2Dfn0rEQmGJ-Kds-a08dRWVMxZTsWrGr91ynZuAQrkm6GGRMueQeyGJfXHksWUYanRupDr9bo417IWFL-hVDktLIq58UEj3S-vJCudqYiA7_mZLFYJ6yBcTe3nyQ4C2ZbE/s400/Pot+alley.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Anyway, as I was telling my host about this man, this brought-up an old lady called Lizzy, who had stayed with them a few times. She was in her sixties when she started bicycle touring and had cycled all over Australia, doing different routes and rough-camping in all sorts of places. This rang a bell with me too as I had met an old lady on the train after a training ride before my first big tour from Darwin to Melbourne a couple of years ago who had a similar story. Turns out it was the same old lady, confirmed by the fact they knew she was from the Mornington Peninsula, just south of Melbourne. Another extraordinary person, you meet quite a few of them doing bicycle touring. What a small world for a big country.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPqf7eZIOAzInPidymEFPQQ51cGdf_byfx6uOhSfTHdK79WGBjXY6l9FK5o9mHgxwm50eRXVX3LW3gsm4Tb0BtfBLgTueSx-09za8FG-wYM7IaOvEJgYdCT6FOdK9YCFZ-3cOjANAJWJI/s1600/Kalbarri+natural+bridge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPqf7eZIOAzInPidymEFPQQ51cGdf_byfx6uOhSfTHdK79WGBjXY6l9FK5o9mHgxwm50eRXVX3LW3gsm4Tb0BtfBLgTueSx-09za8FG-wYM7IaOvEJgYdCT6FOdK9YCFZ-3cOjANAJWJI/s400/Kalbarri+natural+bridge.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I had a decision to make upon leaving Geraldton; did I continue as planned to Shark Bay or take a detour to Kalbarri. Many people had told me to pass through Kalbarri as there were some spectacular and unique landscapes to see there. It was, however, a 200Km or so detour. Shark Bay itself was also a 250+Km detour, but I had at least planned this.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAKqf7mCGCDWlKSjx6JILXbOWz61XGrvu2-nDUbei3FLk8uyRc2CbdmuXCA_vRvum21nFIGhyfAvJFl2PHWXD7Ofs52VycIfanZwT2bFIg4cnwBJ6Hx-Klw9BkNWSxBvCSDsICsMIOuro/s1600/Natures+window.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAKqf7mCGCDWlKSjx6JILXbOWz61XGrvu2-nDUbei3FLk8uyRc2CbdmuXCA_vRvum21nFIGhyfAvJFl2PHWXD7Ofs52VycIfanZwT2bFIg4cnwBJ6Hx-Klw9BkNWSxBvCSDsICsMIOuro/s400/Natures+window.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking out of nature's window.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It ended-up being a great decision to go to Kalbarri. This place was exactly what you think of when you picture outback Australian landscapes. It didn't come easily though, the area was very up and down and the detours to the sea cliffs and gorges created big climbs. It was totally worth the effort, though, it was a beautiful place.<br />
<br />
<b>Headwinds</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
Onward and upward then towards Shark Bay. I was struggling to make it there on schedule because of the detour to Kalbarri and the ever-present northerly headwinds. In fact, since Ceduna (some 3000 or so Km away), I hadn't seen a day of tailwinds, with probably 90% of these days being predominantly headwinds in the main direction I was travelling. Perhaps it sounds like I am exaggerating, it can't possibly be that bad, however, I can assure you it has been. I was plodding through it nobly until recently, but at the time of writing (now in Carnarvon), it has started to become too much and is draining me physically and mentally.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpSRvJNc3yz4nV0QwnaCennCUch1Evx0j8Q81C-Qx1f3GeVYbVV5jMTRkOfIiyIkywWPPwrT1YXn_idsUtNyOBIM0QeH8v6WZszx48nBgdyPvBFawgiL95ggKYkv1zsBXg7_PyUz4tKIA/s1600/Gorge+river+kalbarri.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpSRvJNc3yz4nV0QwnaCennCUch1Evx0j8Q81C-Qx1f3GeVYbVV5jMTRkOfIiyIkywWPPwrT1YXn_idsUtNyOBIM0QeH8v6WZszx48nBgdyPvBFawgiL95ggKYkv1zsBXg7_PyUz4tKIA/s400/Gorge+river+kalbarri.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Over the last few days, I have been cursing the weather gods far too much. I am trying to stop the inner bitterness as it is almost as tiring as the physical battle into the winds themselves, but it is incredibly hard to do. If you have been following me on Facebook, it is possible to get the impression that I am sauntering through paradise, going from stunning beaches to spectacular scenery, and seeing a wondrous variety of wildlife on the way. All true I guess, it's magnificent, but on the bike it is difficult to describe how depressing the last couple of weeks has been. The destinations are making the effort worthwhile, but I am exhausted, truly. There are massive distances between places here in Western Australia, so there really is no way to make the cycling easier, even if the winds weren't so against me.<br />
<br />
This exhaustion plays funny tricks on your mind, with a day's rest, things are restored to normal, but I find myself closing-in on a roadhouse, for example, fantasizing about arguing with the owner or making-up scenarios in my head of people saying some smart-alec comment to me, just so I can viciously put them down. It's bizarre. I can't be angry at the wind, I guess, perhaps this is my way of releasing the frustration. I am a fairly disagreeable person sometimes after all and I do enjoy the odd bit of confrontation.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR5kSSxSo3b98srGUduUt9cq1PFn4dozgdaDTagM4XJSOUp45J34AbqNECEPiiGF_wTYpNwGOrTGm2grnV4pu2cdkulegUVqKj6zBVZMvddKo5VUhk3GInmh4GlibTLjqf4loF3y2bWB8/s1600/Pelican.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR5kSSxSo3b98srGUduUt9cq1PFn4dozgdaDTagM4XJSOUp45J34AbqNECEPiiGF_wTYpNwGOrTGm2grnV4pu2cdkulegUVqKj6zBVZMvddKo5VUhk3GInmh4GlibTLjqf4loF3y2bWB8/s400/Pelican.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Anyway, I was to get my wish of an irritating roadhouse owner. I have noticed a pattern of Indians owning some roadhouses in Australia and every single one of them so far has been an ungenerous, humourless, hard-ass, deeply suspicious of my presence, and not willing to do anything out of the ordinary, no matter how small. I had to stay at one such roadhouse as a storm came in.<br />
<br />
The roadhouse had camping for $10, not bad for price, but there was a reason. Basically it was a dusty car park with loose sand over a hard surface, impossible to pitch a tent in good weather, let alone in high winds and rain. There was no shelter anywhere, all of my gear was primed for a soaking and I couldn't possibly pitch a tent. After a while trying to persuade the owner that I needed somewhere undercover, he finally relented and allowed me to pitch my tent under a mesh roof, protected by the wind near the roadhouse after it closed. Seemed nice of him, but the roof did not provide cover from the rain. Right next to it was an area that did though, which he didn't want me to use or even put my stuff in. It was still a bad deal for $10.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGz8VGl1-uBBr-d7nOZ3_G1HJSDOrFNDkB5ZOfE8zJZ0BkzVr1pplCw_onoM6fir73bYJPRVF9b89wRdSbtoEoXkGaIChSlFJf8eVhjJRVK6zGy0ktLOIOYFspxuxLW1-_OBm9Cb5UOnQ/s1600/Kalbarri+gorge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGz8VGl1-uBBr-d7nOZ3_G1HJSDOrFNDkB5ZOfE8zJZ0BkzVr1pplCw_onoM6fir73bYJPRVF9b89wRdSbtoEoXkGaIChSlFJf8eVhjJRVK6zGy0ktLOIOYFspxuxLW1-_OBm9Cb5UOnQ/s400/Kalbarri+gorge.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
On top of all this drama, I was again having some trouble with my back wheel. Having bought a new one in Geraldton, I didn't expect any more problems, but I noticed several loose spokes, which was bad news indeed. The wheel basically hadn't been tensioned properly, this happens sometimes, so I hear. All this meant - with no bike shops anywhere ahead of me - that I had to send the wheel back to Geraldton to be trued properly. I managed to get it on a courier service going at midday on from the roadhouse, which unbelievably dropped it back to me at 6am the next morning, all fixed. All this further irritated the roadhouse owner, as anything even slightly out of the ordinary seemed to vex him greatly.<br />
<br />
I made it through the storm and moved away from the roadhouse to teach some classes in my tent the following day. However, I had run out of charge on my powerbank and needed somewhere to teach for 2 hours that was quiet and that I could plug my computer in. I knew he had a spare unit that was not being used because the air-con wasn't working (one of his staff told me), so I offered to pay him $20 if I could stay in there for 2 hours teaching. He simply stared at me with a blank face and said it was being cleaned, I knew this was a lie but I was desperate, so I offered him $30, but no dice. He had a smug look on his face, which was soon wiped-off though as one of his employees offered me his room for 2 hours for no charge at all. The guy wouldn't even fill a water bottle, but I took the opportunity when he was away and got one of his employees to fill 5 for me. Obviously as loved and respected by his employees as he was by me. Moron.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I was glad to be away from there, and somehow managed to teach every scheduled class, despite some incredibly close calls. It was stressful though and the 130Km up to Shark Bay was again mainly against the wind as they had shifted from the NE to the West. I had North Easterlies the whole way since Perth, yet while I stayed in Shark Bay the wind was blowing from the SE, and indeed when I left, meaning a big headwind all the way back to the junction. The next day, when I was heading north again, the winds had switched back to northerlies, this was getting beyond a joke and was torturing me mentally and physically.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4zmesmh9vZIoHeviG1KZvskxKNhYTECX1f7e6yX_n-iKAqIKL7MLlNv4Mt94VXXkfIMMWCQEaYfG177WeO8ooqSFMIL7TADhtGyZx5g7WagVjpAWnWpA-bC306B0RyVquOu2OhCCS-5I/s1600/Dugong.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="855" data-original-width="960" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4zmesmh9vZIoHeviG1KZvskxKNhYTECX1f7e6yX_n-iKAqIKL7MLlNv4Mt94VXXkfIMMWCQEaYfG177WeO8ooqSFMIL7TADhtGyZx5g7WagVjpAWnWpA-bC306B0RyVquOu2OhCCS-5I/s400/Dugong.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A dugong coming up for air.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As painful as the trip up and back from Shark Bay was, it was somewhere I had to go. It really is a haven for wildlife, often featured on wildlife documentaries, because of the beds of seagrass in the shallow bay. This makes it home to turtles, dugongs (like a sea cow, most closely related to the hippo and the elephant), rays, sharks, and of course dolphins. Bottlenosed dolphins have been around pretty much everywhere I have been, the common variety in the south, and now the Indo-Pacific variety.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVqmgt64sXFwKNkYwzDvW_r8swlPb7QWd73Wcdzy_e9oMAh2YtYwawbwhuGzu7BEd1We9_w-EgyraULujUKF0WUld8bwxQZs5VZYZNxv8Dm3JOdlucZvYx7NstFV4lfCWzV760MzqcUrc/s1600/Monkey+Mia+beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVqmgt64sXFwKNkYwzDvW_r8swlPb7QWd73Wcdzy_e9oMAh2YtYwawbwhuGzu7BEd1We9_w-EgyraULujUKF0WUld8bwxQZs5VZYZNxv8Dm3JOdlucZvYx7NstFV4lfCWzV760MzqcUrc/s400/Monkey+Mia+beach.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They almost beach themselves sometimes, so close to shore they come.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
On a beach called Monkey Mia in Shark Bay, these dolphins reliably come right up to the shore to be fed every day. This is one of the few places in the world where this happens so reliably. It started in the early-70s when local fishermen used to feed the dolphins when they returned to shore. A handful of dolphins got used to this and kept coming back. This was then turned into a regular practice for scientific and ecotourism reasons in the last 20 years or so. They do it very responsibly, never giving the dolphins any more than 10% of their dietary needs, forcing them to hunt as normal. They also only feed the direct descendants of the original dolphins fed by the fisherman in the 70s. I was surprised to know that two of the dolphins were older than me, the oldest being 45 years old! She didn't look it.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFuLVfFOlaqldxteeb36VP6cSi4SpGUpwb4IBFA3dCVYVDSm8GrxeRXOudP4_lTSBk5lHOKvcI9KoJnfMWEk5gasidJYyKxOmQlCoc-pmtgByZNv1FBxasWI4rAl1JJY5d4_bgCt-JJr0/s1600/Two+dolphins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFuLVfFOlaqldxteeb36VP6cSi4SpGUpwb4IBFA3dCVYVDSm8GrxeRXOudP4_lTSBk5lHOKvcI9KoJnfMWEk5gasidJYyKxOmQlCoc-pmtgByZNv1FBxasWI4rAl1JJY5d4_bgCt-JJr0/s400/Two+dolphins.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Indo-Pacific bottlenosed dolphin seemed a different colour from the common bottlenose.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It was a great experience to see them so close to shore, and for wild dolphins, they were very well behaved, they knew the routine and the cues that meant it was time to line-up next to a feeder and when to finish. When people stepped out of the water, each dolphin found on person with a bucket, and when the buckets were rinsed-out, the dolphins all swam off.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha3adFiMCZPOhGke-u6x_-BErZF1lnDa1GsZt0zbIYbcDvaZHacc_qiPBDXI3pIWGy_yXoOqtOADMPEFZXUb6sAmQtLSweKzCzwPzAvGLS7vPz9Dq-EBYuYqSHzbuC6hqY_fz4lP79Aq0/s1600/dugong+alonside+boat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="751" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha3adFiMCZPOhGke-u6x_-BErZF1lnDa1GsZt0zbIYbcDvaZHacc_qiPBDXI3pIWGy_yXoOqtOADMPEFZXUb6sAmQtLSweKzCzwPzAvGLS7vPz9Dq-EBYuYqSHzbuC6hqY_fz4lP79Aq0/s400/dugong+alonside+boat.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dugong on the way up for air.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I booked a yacht cruise for later in the morning, which was surprisingly not that expensive. I was hoping I would see a dugong and I wasn't disappointed. We saw two in a very shallow area of the bay a few kilometres offshore. At only about 1-2 metres in depth, the dugongs come up regularly for air while feeding on the seagrass. One of them wasn't at all shy, coming much closer to the boat than I expected.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV70kO0WaJAO26Q2zzBriaLsf-6cJh3W87381aPo-Khwr5-5Fxl5ueoYrv1v7zaXOp4YKdbu7-823lHzl2uz5zXGkPBDd-iuX7lg9O7IXFJrKlf9cbT9GWQHqtRYQcjorU9UbP0Ap8njw/s1600/turtle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV70kO0WaJAO26Q2zzBriaLsf-6cJh3W87381aPo-Khwr5-5Fxl5ueoYrv1v7zaXOp4YKdbu7-823lHzl2uz5zXGkPBDd-iuX7lg9O7IXFJrKlf9cbT9GWQHqtRYQcjorU9UbP0Ap8njw/s400/turtle.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This turtle was close to shore and not that shy, but the bigger ones didn't hang around for a picture.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Also around were a number of truly huge turtles, but once they spotted the boat they rather shyly dived underwater. I did get a picture of a small one close to the shore, but the bigger ones were too far away, and considering the distance they were away, I was actually quite shocked at their size.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0DlCMGF6udKhrowLWzRFHuMBEWv5EHWoWaikeGlNP_FHhu0_bgirP77ddoTEOs9FFB0jmyNAOY_vhcNMbUVLNWrMqmYylARCo6tVb5Wnly5uTNEa2EJH8yct_Bg_pPzV6jVQ4ZnVpxm8/s1600/Dolphin+boat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0DlCMGF6udKhrowLWzRFHuMBEWv5EHWoWaikeGlNP_FHhu0_bgirP77ddoTEOs9FFB0jmyNAOY_vhcNMbUVLNWrMqmYylARCo6tVb5Wnly5uTNEa2EJH8yct_Bg_pPzV6jVQ4ZnVpxm8/s400/Dolphin+boat.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
The dolphins played around the boat for much of the time, racing along at the front of the boat. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwoH5_e75CflU7NK4s1Ke6EUKRTHaT8g2KBDR0bJwZeUZzFVmC3JNH9WaI6sOYx9cal6uCUGOhKSzCE8-fJcXpIeXeYTRvLiB5IghajYVL8YTC5CdtiQTisCscUzKGD9a1NIDjtxyD6BM/s1600/Emus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="730" data-original-width="960" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwoH5_e75CflU7NK4s1Ke6EUKRTHaT8g2KBDR0bJwZeUZzFVmC3JNH9WaI6sOYx9cal6uCUGOhKSzCE8-fJcXpIeXeYTRvLiB5IghajYVL8YTC5CdtiQTisCscUzKGD9a1NIDjtxyD6BM/s400/Emus.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
After another little cruise - which was free with the first one - at sunset, I managed to get a lift back to my accommodation. What an incredible day of wildlife, not just in the sea, but on the beach as well, as emus and pelicans wandered around without a care in the world. It was absolute paradise.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjErk2XP25JSsi_9v_BZBHngUMFWbZrcCBniyNjdr4mSAN3XpReiejOCNx_qlIAYlZY_OGoTi061w4tjXtANsrjbchHdrw8DWeJnMkey56Lj01m94rOTf7I2JtgRUUPpwhvPubFG3NWpA/s1600/sunset+yacht.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjErk2XP25JSsi_9v_BZBHngUMFWbZrcCBniyNjdr4mSAN3XpReiejOCNx_qlIAYlZY_OGoTi061w4tjXtANsrjbchHdrw8DWeJnMkey56Lj01m94rOTf7I2JtgRUUPpwhvPubFG3NWpA/s400/sunset+yacht.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
The next day it was back to work on the bike. The next destination was a few days in Carnarvon for some rest and some work, and then onto Coral Bay and Exmouth for some adventures out at sea on the Ningaloo reef, which is where I'll pick up next time.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Smudgerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00449129060365290678noreply@blogger.com0