The first day on my bike was without a doubt the hardest. Largely because it is not wise to set off at 3pm when you do not know how long a journey will take, but also because of the insistent headwind that accompanied me all afternoon. That said, I still (for the most part) thoroughly enjoyed finally being on my way.
The journey took me out of Wellington along the Rimutaka Cycle Trail. This section was mostly flat, gravel road, running alongside the river. The scenery was nice, but largely unchanging throughout the day, a slightly varied mixture of forest and greenery.
There were the classic first day blunders, working out how to fit through the cycle barriers with so much baggage attached. Also, the less classic blunders, such as my gears not shifting half the time resulting in me walking up hills, or my back wheel becoming loose and grinding the bike to a halt, the fixing of which required my bike to be completely unloaded.
Safe to say I was incredibly relieved when I finally arrived at the campsite at 8pm that night and was climbing into bed about an hour after arriving.
Day two marked the first real hill challenge. I would be crossing over the Rimutaka Rail Trail, a disused rail track running through the centre of the Rimutaka Forest. While the path was largely a gentle incline there was a section where the trail had collapsed, resulting in a rocky trail down and then back up within a steep valley. I have never previously done any off road cycling and I found myself spending a large part of the day on off road trails, some of which I would have normally been nervous travelling along on a bicycle alone. However, I somehow found myself powering along, reasonably confidently, with a fully loaded bike. There was a definite feeling of accomplishment when I made it out the other side!
It was along this trail that I met Frank, a cyclist from Auckland who was on the return leg of his journey. It was good to have some company and to hear tips Frank had picked up along his trip. We stayed together until we reached the small town of Featherston, where we had lunch, before Frank made his way to Masterton. I then turned off for the more scenic route through Martinborough, adding an extra day before I also reached Masterton.
I hadn’t made plans on my accommodation for that night, hoping that I could speak to locals on arriving in Martinborough to find a cheaper option than the one commercial campsite I was aware of. I arrived just in time to catch the tourist information lady leaving work, unfortunately she didn’t have any alternatives to the campsite, which was around $40 a night. In a last ditch hope I tried a cycle hire shop next door. They were also unable to think of anywhere else less than 30km away, which I most definitely did not have the energy for at this stage in the day. My fortunes changed as they asked a woman’s advice who had just walked into the shop, she didn’t think there was any other campsite, but she did have a garden I could put my tent in and was happy to let me use her shower and toilet!
I had originally hoped to have a rest day on day three, to help ease me into the punishing exercise regime. Staying in Trish’s garden though I did not feel I could impose for a second night, so I packed up and began the easy day of a short ride to Masterton. Or so I thought… I seems however, I inadvertently took the long, hilly way round. Lovely and scenic though it was, avoiding main road traffic and riding through forest and greenery, my body was aching for a rest. Adding to the punishment of the day I was met with a strong headwind for the majority of the journey.
I arrived in Masterton having completed another six hours of riding and 60 odd km. The skies opened as I stood under a shelter in the centre, searching for a hostel or campsite nearby. There was a commercial campsite on the edge of the CBD, where I could enjoy the luxuries of a shower and kitchen facilities and finally, a day of rest.
Over the next few days I headed further north, finding the small yet significant benefits of cycle travel. I stopped in villages and towns that I would have passed right through if travelling by car or bus, locals would stop to chat always interested in what I was doing and happy to impart advice. I was hailed by a farmer as I drove past his field and given a wave by a train driver as he hurtled on by.
My original aim had been to reach Napier, a city in the middle of the east coast of the north island, where I would be meeting my friend Liz for Christmas (she would be driving up from Wellington). Our plans changed however when Liz discovered she needed to work over the holidays, so after a couple of days relaxing on a beautiful secluded campsite in Dannevirke,a town steeped in Viking history, I began to return south. Unfortunately, the wind also changed direction the day before I left and I was once again to be riding into headwind, this time a cold southerly one!
During my journey back I arranged a night through Warm Showers, a website helping cycle tourists host other cycle tourists. I spent an evening with an amazingly mad and enthusiastic couple, who had neighbours to match, all four of whom have had many cycle tour trips throughout New Zealand, on tandem bikes. They were wonderful hosts, sharing stories about their adventures, as well as treating me to a very welcome shower after hours riding in torrential rain and a real bed to end the day.
I now had four days to stretch out a short journey to Wellington, trying to make the most of free accommodation until just before Christmas. I spent two nights on a basic campsite on the very outskirts of the city, separated from Highway 1 by just a few hills but giving the feel of being far from civilisation. The unfortunate feature of this campsite was no shower, or indeed fresh water, on offer. Not the most convenient of circumstances after two days of cycling!
The final leg of my mini tour took me along the Kapiti Coastal track back towards Wellington centre. I had a leisurely cycle back, enjoying perusing the houses of this more effluent neighbourhood. Each building appeared to have been individually designed, creating a journey full of character and colour. Every now and then I was given a glimpse of the sea, the undulating blue surface glistening in the wind.
I had one more trial before reaching a real bed once again. This came in the form of sand dunes, on what I later discovered was classified an intermediate mountain bike course! The bike’s weight and tyres definitely not appropriate for the terrain, I found I had to man handle it over several of the steeper, gravelly hills. But I made it up and over more than enough of them to be extremely pleased with my days work as the gravel once again became road and my destination came into sight.
So what have I learnt from my trial run? New Zealand weather is exhausting, the hills are beautiful but painful and I need to carry less luggage… but all in all completing a journey in such a fashion is rewarding in its sights, sounds and interactions with those around.
