As it turns out, New Zealand’s Prime Minister John Keys has proposed building a nationwide cycling route as an economic stimulus plan. Outside of Holland, where else would cycling be such a respected and valuable tourist activity that it would be thoughtfully proposed as a way to increase employment? I knew New Zealand was special, but as a cycle-nut, New Zealand truly deserves its reputation for the world’s best cycle touring destination
January 25th, Day One in New Zealand
Most people are amazed and mildly dumbfounded when they meet cycle tourist. We are not the sleek and well-shaved aerodynamic types on racing bikes. We are also not the balls-to-the-wall mountain biker jumping of rocks and cliffs. You have probably seen the cycle tourist on the edge of your peripheral vision as you were driving recently. We are the kind of poor sap you feel sorry for when looking out the window on a rainy day because all their earthly possessions covered in plastic and strapped to a wobbly bicycle whose wheels have long since buckled under the weight.
By God, Marge, what is that?! A wayward cow?
A cycle tourist is merely a traveler who chooses to enjoy the scenery from the saddle. We are huffing and puffing up the hills and flying down the descents with tears of joy. We have radars for the best takeaways, biggest cookies and can gobble up entire boxes of muesli bars in one sitting. Not only are we bloody starving, but we are also craving the best and most scenic routes that the destination has to offer. So after scouring both Pedaler’s Paradise and Lonely Planet’s Cycling New Zealand, I was chomping at the bit to get out on my bike. (Pedaler's Paradise is a one of a kind cycling notebook with distances and elevations, created by and for cycle tourists right in New Zealand. Note to bookstores and bike shops: start stocking these books!)
My idea was to complete a three-day circuit from Christchurch to Kaikoura and back again. This test ride was just to make sure I was prepared to do the full circuit of both the north and south island, which would roughly cover about three thousand miles. If I came back to Christchurch, I would have one more opportunity to decide if I was going to scramble back to the airport and head home. However, “home” was no longer there; rather, it was haphazardly boxed up and tossed into a dark and musty storage unit near my parents house. Why did it seem that “home” is something that other people have? Alas, the decision wasn’t hard and I guided the bike out of the campground, reminding myself, stay to the left, stay to the left.
Among my first impressions of New Zealand are that it isn’t that different than the United States. I feel very comfortable here; in fact, being here sends little waves of nostalgia through my body as I am reminded of the late-seventies and early-eighties when I was a child. Look at that! Not only are there large stretches of untouched coastline like northern California, but men still short shorts and knee-high socks with gum-boots. The men look like they stepped from the pages of my photo albums of Dad. These thoughts keep me amused long enough to distract me from my burning thigh muscles and cramping neck. A car swerves a bit too close, and I start thinking about how far away I am from home, and if I am going in the right direction? I get a little nervous as I usually am about being alone as a woman. How will Kiwis treat me? Will I be greeted by applause, or that stone-cold stare above a gaping mouth that I get when out touring on my own? A few cars pass, a bunch more camper vans, and they give me plenty of room on the road, and by god, some of them even slow down and don’t pass me until its safe. Hmmm… this place is different.
At last, I reach a small bridge and see some tourists splashing in the cool river near some boulders. This is a vacation, I remind myself, and I point the bicycle to the DOC campground where I make a beeline straight for swimming. My headache dissipates immediately and the water soothes my aching muscles; all in all, a wonderful first day. The trip has just begun!
February 3rd, 2009
A week on the road now, and I’ve already left the Marlborough and Canterbury region, including passing the magnificent Mt Cook area where the glacial blue water of the rivers, lake, canals is just unbelievable. I think it is really one of the most incredible colors produced by nature- and offset against the peaks, glaciers and ochre brown hills- well, it’s hard to believe such contrast can exist.
The region became quite flat afterwards, and although the elevation looks like a downhill slope, it never feels like it when on a bike. I like how all the towns have tried to create their own specialty- Twizel "town of trees" Omarama "city of light" Methven "town of hot air ballooning" Koch "birthplace of NZ social security."
I guess some of these are pushing the limits of attraction, but Oamaru's penguin colonies are pretty original! I went to see them come out of the ocean last dusk. They come in on rafts on the waves, floating up on the rocks in the breakers, fluffing and waddling up to their nests on the beach. The more amazing thing was all the well-behaved tourists who were banned from taking photos, and which they obliged silently, cooing in and murmuring at the wildlife display.
Once again, NZ has managed to preserve and protect something original in a non-Disney-esque way.
I must however, make a comment about the wind: I couldn’t even control the bike from almost hitting the ditch or going off the ledge into a paddock of scared sheep. I was cursing the world, the weather and grumbling to myself bloody murder. Yet despite the hard riding- hills, wind, rain- I do feel I am getting stronger. Also, I reached the southernmost area of the south island and it really feels different- so remote, rain forest, and with cool Antarctic winds- I do feel I am at the bottom of the globe.
The Catlins are magic, and even though it took a long hard rainy ride to get there, but I toughed it out and camped even though I was soaked. I was about to take a cabin when I thought about the damn tent I am carrying and figured I had better use it. All I really needed was a warm (hot) shower, so I made it through the night. In the morning, I was reading the plaques above the bay and how the dolphins swim there, and how not to disturb them. The sign said "love us from afar or lose us forever" as human encroachment has pushed them to extinction. I thought I wouldn’t have the good luck to see any, when suddenly I spotted a cluster in the water! Yeah! Their fins broke the surface as they dove and swam.
Then the guy who I was standing near took off down the beach and tore off all his clothes and jumped in! What an *&^%!! Not only is this disturbing them, its f-g freezing! I couldn’t believe it. But, I thought it was pretty cool. So that goes to show you how remote it is.
February 16th, 2009 Monday
New Zealand is a surprising country with lots of twists and turns; you never know what the geography has in store for you up ahead. The south west tip of the south island is the Fiordlands, and is a world heritage site as it is one of the wonders of the world. The jagged coast has been carved by glaciers and the original forests have been preserved, with extensive efforts to eradicate the invasive plants and animals. There are a number of well known "sounds" (erroneously named by European explorers) such as Doubtful Sound and Milford Sound. These areas are deep water inlets with impossibly high rock walls carved by moving glaciers, called Fiords
I booked a kayaking trip in Doubtful Sound, the smaller and often overlooked of the two, and with great luck it was a wonderfully bright and sunny day. It has been really cold lately and I was getting grumpy about this, but thankfully the weather turned. Our group was small, and we had to take two vans and a boat to get to the put in area. There we paddled around the water, getting the hang of working in tandem, and the guide described the plants of the area. It was a perfectly beautiful day. My partner was a hilarious British guy Phil, who had me in laughing fits with his dry sarcastic humor. He offered me a lift over to Milford Sound in the evening, and since I didn't want to ride this steep and shoulderless road, I accepted.
On Sunday, I took a small boat cruise into the Milford Sound and enjoyed the cascading waterfalls, seals, and spectacular views of the sheer rock cliffs. It really is something you have to see in person to realize. I am so glad I didn't skip it.
Since having the wheels and company was a needed break adding some variety to both our solo "soul searching" journeys, and he didn't turn out to be a mass murderer which I so appreciated, I accepted another ride on to Queenstown. We picked up a friendly Swiss hitchhiker along the way, and thus we were three. We swapped tales of traveling and adventures next to come, and there was a nice spirit to the journey.
Queenstown- the adventure capital of the NZ. I was well prepared for the over development and over hype so I am not too disappointed. Every shop is either an "extreme bungy" booking place or a retail therapy clothing store for showing off your adventurous bod. As we strolled around last night craning our necks like country mice, it was sort of funny to see some of the same people we had seen before. The island gets small after awhile.
The company has been fun for the last couple of days, as well as the easier view from the campervan but I have also confirmed that cycling is my preferred method. Slower, and you remember more of your journey on the road because you earn each and every mile.
March 15th, East Cape
Impressions of the north island versus the south island first and foremost is it is way more Maori and multi-cultural. In simpler terms, everyone is not white European. Cool! I saw women with the chin tattoos, men with full face tattoos and girls practicing dancing with the hand waves and buggy eyes. Many towns were small, and not centered on either tourists or something you could discover by driving through quickly. I felt people were a little rude to be honest, but had my first camping on a lawn in someone’s house. I had done this tons in Europe but with the ample campground facilities, never saw the need; however, I found myself exhausted in a Te Puia Springs and the hotel was closed because the owner died- so what to do?
Luckily, the tourist center called her friend Chickadee and I camped on her lawn. She was gracious to let me watch TV, make me dinner and tea, and invite her friend over so we could chat a bit about the area. I wanted to ask so many questions and learn more about the traditions; but again, this was not something so readily available on the surface. I would need to stay longer. I thought it hadn’t been anything that special, but was touched when Chickadee insisted I call her until I reached Auckland so she would know I was safe.
I really burned it out to make Opotiki in 3 days. I pushed myself much harder than I have the whole trip. I wavered between thinking, "I am finally in shape!" and "I want to scream!" Another key difference in the North Island: "rolling hills." That sounds so sweet, doesn't it? "Gentle undulations" and "ups and downs." Yes, bloody hills from hell. Although the book said this was THE most beautiful coast for cycling the world (that's why I decided at least I have to see this area), I wasn't sure it was that awesome. It was pretty, and I really felt I achieved something when I made it to the beaches and at last in Opotiki. Tired, sweaty, smelly and with legs bulging like Popeye, I wasted no time to get a bed in a backpackers (hostel).
Now, I was a simple bed in a sweet Victorian house with free Internet, a homey kitchen, books and NO INSECTS! Yes! And I don't have to set up the tent! So, maybe I am just sick of camping, or being alone, or sick of the rain, or who knows what, but I won’t go home just yet although I have been spending a way too much time day dreaming about a beach bungalow.
March 13th, 2009
Having ditched some gear at a friend’s house, the hills of Coromadel are just barely doable, not easy by any stretch of the imagination. The elevation maps look like an EKG chart, with sharp spikes up and down. They look and feel like sheer vertical climbs. I think I was a little over-excited the first two days with less gear, I felt like a champ! However, today, I had not a drop of energy and was found lolling about in the lounge until check out time, gulping cups of tea and coffee with inordinate amounts of sugar. I think I cleared out the sugar jars.
However, yesterday was the day to end all days of cycling. It was a top contender, if not the winner, of an awesome day of cycling in New Zealand hands down. I spent the night in a very remote cabin in the middle of nowhere. I was the only out there in the gorge with a wood fire stove. For the first time ever, I managed to start a fire! Then, I began the climb out of Colville back to Coromandel where I loaded up on smoked salmon and cheese, then conquered the climb of the country on the pass to Whitianga. A short ferry ride, and I was on my way through some very scenic beaches- Cooks Beach, Hahei Beach, Cathedral Cove and Hot Water Beach. Not only did I enjoy the actual cycling, the scenery was spectacular with roads hugging the coastline, sunlight sparking on clear green ocean water and bright blue skies. It was even warm! Ah, a summer day at last, right in time for autumn.
Trudging through the hills at Armstrong-like speeds, I was mentally patting myself on the back for this awesome idea- less gear, no tent, no camping and the luxury of backpacking and sleeping on a bed. The kiwis do know a thing or two and I have grown to love these independent backpacker hostels, which are more often than not, a large Victorian house converted to a homey establishment for solo travelers! With free tea, coffee and milk to boot, I dont even have to go shopping for dinner! Maybe that was why I was so tired today- mental note: muesli is not enough for dinner. I made up for it today though with a fish sandwich, chips, toasted panini and spinach quiche pie, with cookie and licorice whips for dessert. It was all very good, but my stomach muscles hurt from gorging myself Whangamata.
April 11th, 2009
So, before all the Kiwis laugh off the proposed economic stimulus plan for a nation-wide cycling route to at least consider what people like me might want in such a route. That is, a one-of-a-kind route in a world's best cycling destination, in case you forgot.
From the bicycle assembly station at the Christchurch airport to gargantuan fish and chips take-aways at every block, I discovered that New Zealand does deserve its reputation for the world’s best cycle touring destination. Where else can you cycle up alpine peaks in the morning and watch little blue penguins trudge up the beach in the evening, all the while getting thumbs up from the locals? In New Zealand, getting out on your bike is not only normal, it’s the best way to get up close to the spectacular and well-preserved natural environment. And, it’s a great place for women to travel alone.
My suggestions are first, please don't just create a route that is the shortest distance between point A and B. The beauty of cycle touring is freedom to choose, to stop easily, to be closer to the landscape and nature all around you. So don't leave out the freewheeling descents of the Coromandel, Otago and Banks Peninsulas, as well as the ascents of Mt Cook and Haast Past and the interesting cultural significance of the East Cape.
If you build it, we will come!
Just remember that we choose travel this way because we like the wind in our wheels, and, please, don't ever feel sorry for us. Instead, the next time you see someone on a bike who is battling wind and rain to pedal over some mountain with sweat pouring down their face and heart thundering in their chest, give them a thumbs up. You can be sure this person is not only having the time of their life, but may also be New Zealand's economic future.
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