NO SLEEP TIL QUEENSTOWN

It's going to be a long day on gravel or a long day on the highway. I can pick up the Around The Mountains Course that I started way back on day 1, which will get me two thirds of the way back to Queenstown. 

The info board near my hotel indicates it will be over a 6 hour ride to Kingston (where it ends and I'll have to move to the highway). I don't feel I have that kind of day in me. [Note: The people who pay tour companies to do Around the Mountains would ride Lumsden to Kingston, then get bussed back to Queenstown.]

My plan is to start early and ride the highway until it gets too busy and move to the gravel if needed. This proves to be a poor plan because every trades person and farmhand is driving to work at 6 AM. One ute driver yells to me that there's a bike path as I'm leaving Lumsden. I can't tell if he's being helpful or angry. He passes me slowly and with plenty of room, which I don't get from many other tradespeople/farm workers throughout the day. 

I don't stop until I reach the town of Athol, which is closed because I started too early. And it's just a single cafe/gift shop, but still seems better than Lumsden. 30 down, 30 km to Kingston. I soldier on and am eventually rewarded with a headwind. It's terrible for 10 km. Cold, requiring me pedal hard down hill. Unrelenting. I have nothing left when I finally reach Kingston and Queenstown appears to be in the same direction for 40 km.

I had wanted to scope out Kingston as it's another place that comes up in Queenstown real estate searches (and is relatively inexpensive). I see the library, fire station, and a completely non-charming cafe, which are all at highway elevation. Everything else is down hill and I don't have that in me.

I see an old couple in a rented RV pull in behind me. I ask if they're headed to Queenstown and they are coming from Queenstown. They don't speak much English but are able to tell me it's crowded because there's a marathon on Saturday, the weather is fine, and it's not windy. I'm doubtful about the not windy part because the woman didn't know what I was talking about when I complained of wind. 

I'm about to stand in the parking lot with my thumb out. I don't think I've ever hitchhiked and don't know hitchhiking etiquette. 

The coffee and scone I've just eaten as well as the promise of good weather invigorate me. And the wind does seem lighter. Never underestimate the benefit of a well timed break.

Once I start, the wind is less fierce closer to the lake. But the road is more hilly, more winding, and more narrow if that's even possible.  

The one part of the ride I was actually worried about isn't that bad. Cars are going slower and wait to pass me until there's room. 

I stop at the first lookout and take a photo. It's about 5 km of this. I make a point of slowing/stopping at al turnouts when there are cars close to passing. I wonder if this actually reduces the number of cars trying to pass me or makes no difference. I try to run what seem like simple mathematical problems, but there's is no bandwidth for anything other than pedaling, staying upright, dodging cars.

I see Queenstown, or something in the distance. I stop at Halfway Bay. I am 20 km away.

The traffic worsens considerably at 10 km out. The last 5 are downhill and I'm getting pinched. The tourists give me room. It's truck, utes, and vans that want to kill me. I start calculating when it would be reasonable to walk, but there's no room for that either. My hotel is this side of Queenstown by 8 or 9 km. I roll off the highway to my turnoff and climb a steep hill. I feel no need to close the loop in Queenstown as I started my ride here a week ago. I am done. You go a little crazy on a day like today so I hope I'm not dreaming and I hope I don't wake up 100 km ago. 

I check back into my hotel. Soak for a while. Open the luggage they've been holding for me. There's a luxury item: my belt. My pants have not fit for a week. I take the water taxi across the lake to Queenstown proper. It is a gorgeous day. I wonder why I don't take normal vacations like normal people instead of torturing myself.

Shorts!

I wake up feeling not better but not worse. I see the sun for the first time in a few days and put on sunscreen. I decide on shorts and a short sleeve jersey, I think for the first time this trip. The forecast isn't super warm, but it's sunny and all my clothes are dirty.

I stop for coffee and am served an espresso in a giant paper cup. I sit outside and it's instantly cold.

I exit Invercargill and am disappointed that I am back tracking through places I had been 2 days ago. The ride is mostly flat and overall pleasant. This is the type of biking I like and haven't done a lot of on this trip. I've been too worried about weather and logistics until now. I can't remember if I mentioned, I met an old woman from Winton on the Doubtful Sound cruise. It's  2km (each way) off my course to get there, but it's supposed to be a nice town and I'm due for a break. 

I stop at a delightful cafe and because I'm on the Tour of Aotearoa course, people are interested if I'm in it. I'd probably be the first cyclist they've seen.

I take my jacket off when I leave the cafe but it's just a little too cold for that. I'm not riding fast enough to warm up and I don't have enough left in me to ride faster. It's a long slow slog to Lumsden and I battle a headwind for the last 25 or 30 km. I get to town just a little too late as all the cafes shut down at 3. The pub doesn't seem to be open at all today. I am the only guest at my hotel. There is no staff, just a lockbox with a key. There's an Indian/Pizza place that will be open for dinner, which might be my only option. I do laundry at a giant outdoor laundromat.

Strava says 61 miles, 1030 feet climbing. 

Rainy Day Blues

I wake up later than usual and walk the town before anything opens. There's a lot here for a 500 person metropolis.

I am feeling unwell and hope breakfast will fix me. I am officially in the gaining back the weight stage of the trip.

The E-Bike hire website recommends 3 rides. I start with the shortest, Observation Rock (or maybe it's Observation Rock Viewpoint, I'm not sure).

It's raining lightly and I wouldn't normally be concerned, but I'm going to be in these bike clothes all day. I return to town and see that the pub also serves breakfast. I debate alternatives to bicycling in the rain like: sitting in the pub all day, visiting the museum, learning how to carve greenstone.

Eventually, I ride off to Acker's Cottage. 

I hear tui and finally see a couple. I try to photograph them, but they keep jumping to where I'm not. Here is my best effort.

For ride number 3, I pass sandy beach after sandy beach.

At the end is a piece of public art. Something about Stewart Island being the anchor when the North Island was pulled out of the water. I may have gotten that wrong.

I ride back to town in need of lunch. So many places are closed on Mondays that I'll have to repeat restaurants. I go to the mini-market and buy a pie. 

It starts to rain harder so I eat it under their awning. I have an hour to kill in the rain so I return to cafe #1.

The ferry ride back to Bluff is in near zero visibility. I discover that everybody who lives on Stewart Island looks like the captain.

I greatly underestimate how difficult riding 30 km back to Invercargill in the rain with a headwind will be. I stop for one photo, because they were all staring at me.

Strava says 11 miles and 1411 feet climbing on Stewart Island and 18 miles 367 feet riding to Invercargill.

I got bad news for you, mate

And then something like "That's a tough bike ride" or "You can't get there on a bike, mate" . It's a joke I hear every time I tell a Kiwi I'm biking to Stewart Island. 

I regretfully leave my hotel before they start serving breakfast as I want as much time as possible for headwinds and rain delays. 

I run into both. It's just enough rain/cold to make me stop and put on my waterproof pants. I stop a couple of times to take them off when the heavy rain never materializes. 

I pass one perfect photo opportunity after another, though I know with current weather conditions and only a cheap phone they won't be captured correctly. I snap a selfie and notice I am gaunt. 

The ocean comes into view. Based on the signs, I believe the land mass is Monkey Island. Based on the signs, I believe Monkey Island is really a peninsula. Based on my knowledge of New Zealand wildlife, I believe there are no monkeys on Monkey Island. It's a detour I don't take, so I could be wrong on both counts.

Karina and Mathew from South Africa and Auckland, respectively are headed in the opposite direction: Cape Reinga...on foot. 

Clearly there are people crazier than me in this world. She recommends I stop at the Crepe Cafe in Riverton. I guess I don't speak South African, either as she actually said Crib Cafe. This is the cutest cafe I've seen this trip and the long black is the best I've had. 

My plan is to ignore my Garmin routes and stick to the highway unless it's much busier than it has been he first half of my day. 

I ride along the highway, which although part of the Southern Scenic Drive isn't very scenic. Or maybe I'm just bored of bicycling. I watch the route in the Garmin that I'm supposed to be riding and wonder if I'd be happier over there. Probably, but I'm also pretty happy getting to Invercargill 45 minutes earlier. I had wanted to stop at the Invercargill Brewery, but I can't tell if it exists anymore. I instead find the Tuatara Cafe, which serves as the tasting room for a different local brewery. I have 30 km left to ride and settle on coffee and a lamb pasty.

I find a bike shop and pump up my tyres a little. I pass a record store, but it's closed Sundays. I remember there's a Burt Munro museum and wander in.

A couple of old women approach me as I'm getting ready to ride to Bluff telling me they were watching my bike while I was in the restaurant and anyone could have walked off with it. I thank them and the lecture goes on longer than comfortable. Every other town I felt stupid locking the bike up; in Invercargill I have my eyes on it nearly 98% of the time, but don't use my lock. Noted. 

I ride down Highway 1. Google Maps has an alternate route that's a few km longer, but I can't hold my phone and ride. I'll scope out better for the return. A couple of cars intentionally swerve/lunge toward me. This hasn't happened before. There's a paved bike lane most of the way, but it's covered with debris. Something that looks like broken pottery but is probably stray rocks from chip sealing the road. I try to ride in it, but I'm more worried about wrecking my tyres than a car hitting me. I'll use it on the way back when a tow to Invercargill is in the right direction.

Bluff is run down and much smaller than anticipated for a South Island town I've heard of. I ask the fork lift driver at the ferry if he has any recs for Bluff Oysters. It's the only thing I know about Bluff. I'm too late for Bluff Oysters. I bike to Sterling Point as the restaurants in town are either fast food or closed. I enjoy an overpriced pint and an overpriced bowl of pumpkin soup while enjoying the view of my bike.

A woman who says she lives 20 minutes away but never comes here offers to take my picture in front of the sign. I look for Hawaii, but don't see it.

The check in agent at the ferry makes me take everything off the bike. Carrying around water bottles, a helmet, and six bags is a pain.

I ride to my lodging, which was my second choice as there was a booking problem at the place with the pub. I quickly shower as I'm afraid the restaurant will close and I'm beyond starving. It's quiz night and super crowded. The quiz is hard and I'm glad I'm not playing. I sit down with a pint of Emerson's 1812 in what I was hoping was the world's most southern bar. It might be third.

I have done everything I wanted to accomplish (except getting back to Queenstown, but that's a straight 200 km. I may feel differently in a couple of days when I'm riding it.) As I was planning this trip, looking at map, I thought it would be super cool to pedal the southern coast.

Strava says 72 miles, 1890 feet climbing.

Tailwinds

Today is a shortish, mostly flat, all road (depending on my route) day so my goal is to start later than usual. The market/cafe in town opens at 8.

I am greeted with a rainbow from my cabin window. Unfortunately, it's drizzling. I bike a km to the cafe and order a short black and a muffin. I am served a long black, which is probably a good thing because it is sub par.

I head out on my ride and see roughly 2 cars per every 10 km. I am flying with a tailwind behind me. I'm being blown up hill. I reach my coffee stop a half hour before expected and ride past it. I am blown over when I turn around--well almost. I put my feet down and don't actually fall. I walk 200 m back to the cafe and begin to worry about 1) am I going to fall over every time the road changes direction and 2) how am I going to get back to Queenstown if this is my headwind in a couple of days. I order a date scone (which is okay) and a long black (that is very good, except I forgot to order decaf so I can't drink the whole thing). I watch the wind bend the trees. I check to see if I can rent a car in Invercargill and drop it off it Queenstown (I can't). I check for a bus (it's 2 busses and 10 hours including layover to get to Queenstown). My goal is only to get to Stewart Island. If I can't ride back from there, I'll bus it or hitchhike. 

I continue on, carefully. I keep both hands on the bars and try to keep ahead of anything that becomes a cross wind. The road is lined with giant flax on both sides, obviously meant to be a wind barrier.

I am able to snap one photo on a flat part. The hills are  much more attractive and green beyond belief. More sheep than one could count without falling asleep. I roll into Tuatapere earlier than expected and with much less effort. I see my hotel and it is unfortunately a mile from town. Town is bigger than it should be and not particularly run down, but it has a depressing small town vibe. Every adult I see is wearing gumboots

All kids are barefoot

The hotel/bar looks out of business. There a backpackers that has a restaurant. A small market and a fast food place. 

I eat lunch even though I'm not hungry and definitely not at hungry hippo level. I consider continuing on to Riverton, which is my coffee stop tomorrow, but see that's it's almost 60 km away. I ride back to the hotel to check in and it's surprisingly better than I had pictured. I am overdue for laundry, so that's task #1.

My hotel serves dinner, but it's a farm to table whatever the chef is feeling like at a communal table. My alternative is the hungry hippo again, which I see is open until 8 PM, or the restaurant at the in-town hostel. It's the home of the Famous Tuapatere Sausage which is made on site.

While deciding I walk back to town, pick up something for breakfast tomorrow as I'll be gone before anything opens and stop into the hostel restaurant for a pint.

The closed hotel probably had the small town atmosphere I am looking for. This place...

I walk back to my hotel with a couple hours to kill before dinner. There's a real TV and I stream Netflix. I hate wasting time on vacation but there is nothing for me to do here. 

I opt for dinner at my hotel, expecting 30 or so people at the big table. There are 4 of us. A family of 3 Canadians/Australians (though the Australian grew up in Otago, so maybe I misunderstood). They're walking the Humpback Track tomorrow and are more concerned about the weather than I am. Of course, they're super experienced hiker's and I'm just a guy with a bike. I am even more worried about getting back to Queenstown until I realize the Monday (the day they recommend taking off) is only a 30 km day. With this news, maybe I can sleep tonight.

50 miles 1719 feet