Rough and ready on the Pacific edge

Great Barrier Island or simply the Barrier is a perfectly named landmass, sitting as it does between the vast Pacific Ocean and Auckland’s Hauraki Gulf. The craggy landscape initially formed by volcanic activity millions of years ago is further shaped by the ocean and weather - and the people are similarly rough and ready.

On an overcast and slightly breezy day we leave our boat on anchor and go ashore at Port Fitzroy.  We see a rental car and call the number printed on its door.  No problem.  But he's not sure “what state the car’s in” and it’ll take a half hour for him to come over to us, driving from a neighbouring bay.  He duly rolls up, cites a price of $85 a day but if we don’t want him to wash the car  "call it $80".   We call it $80.  I point out the vehicle has no registration (“yeah, I renewed it on-line and I’m waiting for it to come in the post”) and no warrant of fitness (“yeah, it has to go over to the only garage on the other side of the island and it’s booked in tomorrow”).  This has a Tui billboard feel about it, but we're in the equivalent of Mexico here, so hand over the cash.  As we head off he heads to the general store and emerges minutes later with a slab of beer. 

At 90 kilometres north-east of Auckland, the island is not that remote yet only 800 people live here year round.  By necessity everyone generates their own electricity through solar or using generators, and access to what most of us consider daily necessities is limited or non existent.

The sheltered waters of Kaiaraara Bay

The severity of the landscape is a surprise after the benign islands of the inner Hauraki Gulf where we have been cruising for the previous three weeks.

The west coast is a mass of native-bush covered ranges plunging into the sea, nicked by bays and dotted with bony islands.  Port Fitzroy is the result of a drowned valley system and forms a protected bay.  The settlement there is tiny, comprising a wharf, an info centre that rivals a phone box in size, and a general store selling various necessities including bait and the aforementioned booze. Half gallon flagons of sherry seem to be popular items.

Port Fitzroy - a wharf and the general store up the hill

In contrast the east coast is exposed to the expanse of the South Pacific – next stop Chile. This coast is varied, with wetlands in the north and graceful curves of white sand beaches showcasing good surf along the waist of the island, then more rocky coves to the south.

Awana Bay on the east coast

Between the two coasts the land is steep and brutal and covered in dense bush, yet over the centuries whalers, miners and loggers have had at it.

The island has a number of  Department of Conservation (DOC) walks/hikes, some more rugged than others. The 25 km Aotea Track is a manageable 2-3 day circuit for a reasonably fit person, and includes the ascent of Mt Hobson, at 621 metres the highest point on the island. You can count on plenty of up and down terrain, stunning views, interesting historic sites and beautiful native bush, including the surviving kauri trees.  The island is free from predators such as possums, goats and deer, so the bush has regenerated well. However the presence of rats means the native bird life has not fared as well. 

steps, steps and more steps

We spend our first few days around the various bays of Port Fitzroy; not just for the cheap sherry -  there are many very sheltered anchorages with access on to some beautiful tracks through the native bush. Although it is the very end of April and we are well into Autumn, the weather is still warm. 

We hike up the Kaiaraara track towards Mt Hobson; our destination is the old kauri dam about two hours up.  The  DOC tracks are well constructed and maintained, so the hike up is only moderately taxing; parts of the track are very steep and there are lots of series of steps to take you to the next section.  While you appreciate these early on, the sight of another flight becomes less joyous as time goes on.

The old kauri dam

The kauri forests were logged heavily between the 1880s and 1930s and the dam was one in a linked series used to transport the logs down to the bay.  The dam is a feat of clever engineering built by men with no formal training who just figured out what would work.  An estimated seven million feet of timber were logged out and sent down the dams.  Not without cost – John Mowbray in the New Zealand Observer in 1931 wrote “I saw what had happened to the Kaiaraara stream. The banks of the stream had been torn and mutilated. Its bed was four of five times its former width…The defacement of that valley was complete”.

The valley has regenerated to a large extent but of course the magnificent kauri don't grow back overnight. 

Great Barrier is, in a practical sense, quite accessible with daily flights (30 minutes) from Auckland, and a ferry service (4.5 hours) operating every day in Summer and three times a week in Winter.  However it feels very remote and is a little like a step back to a simpler life - rough and ready is exactly the right way to be. 

time to put our feet and pour a glass from that flagon of sherry

Great Riding: Alps to Ocean

I suspect New Zealand is the only country in the world to respond to the global financial meltdown by building a cycleway from one end of the country to the other.   

$50 million of Government funding kicked off the design and construction of Nga Haerenga, the New Zealand Cycle Trail and the Department of Conservation and local Councils, among other groups, also contribute.  Four years on, the project is far from complete  - nothing is never as easy in execution as it is in conception - however in 2010 there were only two multi-day trails available: there are now 23 "Great Rides". 

Last week our group of friends cycled part of the longest, and what must be one of the most spectacular trails - the Alps to Ocean.  Starting in the Southern Alps at New Zealand's highest mountain, Aoraki/Mount Cook, the 310 km trail descends 540 metres down hydro lakes, canals and river valleys out to the Pacific Ocean.  

There are eight distinct sections to the ride, with distances ranging between between 19 and 53 kilometres.  Our plan, developed by our well organised leader,  is two days riding four sections rather than the recommended 4-6 days to do the whole thing - unfortunately the chosen sections have some of the hardest bits, especially for those of us who use our bikes for casual recreational use rather than Tour de France training. 


Normal people would probably cycle each of these sections in one day each, but as it happens our organiser is Lance Armstrong's sister (although her performance enhancer of choice tends more towards the Chardonnay).  

Day one starts well enough.  We drive to Twizel, a quiet hydro town with no discerning features other than its location in stunning scenery.  At cycle support HQ we exchange our cars for bikes and venture forth.  

The hunter-gatherer leads off confidently. "Do you know where you're going?" we shout. "Yes" comes the reply, so like stray ducklings we follow.  When he stops at a nearby service garage I realise he is visiting a mate, and the rest of us cycle on.  I have a growing sense of unease as to our direction. We stop. We check the directions. We are heading the wrong way. The h-g catches up in time for me to berate him.  His defence? He said he knew where he was going but didn't say it was where we wanted to go.  When I divorce him I shall use this as an example of irreconcilable differences. 

It is a beautiful day for cycling - calm and clear -  and the trip along the canal is an easy ride.  We cross the weir at the head of Lake Ohau and then follow a meandering compressed gravel cycle/walk way that skirts the edge of the lake.  The views are of expansive skies, a flat lake unruffled by wind, and flowering rock roses.  We disturb a small flock of sheep and follow them for a short distance as they trot madly in front of us.  Bucolic bliss.

Lake Ohau

That is until we come off the bike path and meet the next section of road taking us to Lake Ohau Lodge, our accommodation for the next three nights. It's the longest  ten kilometres of my life as a head wind has whipped up out of nowhere.  Eventually we attain the Lodge where our fearless companions (who have driven) have set up a wonderful picnic.  We fall on the food as hungry wolves and force down a glass of wine or two, just as a reviver you understand.  

But wait! cries Lance's sister, there's more!  More food? No, another 40 kilometres.  However I have read the trail guide  " ....the track narrows and it's a steady climb to the high point on the trail, 900m above sea level [10.8 km]. Please allow plenty of time for this section, and take frequent breaks if you are feeling tired. It is advised to bring some high energy food, as you may require a boost". 

Seriously, does that sound like fun?  Nothing will incent me to get back on the bike; most of us opt for a hot shower and a lie down.  Lance's sister, her husband the truffle hunter and the determined GP are the only three to set off, possibly never to be seen again.

Many, many hours later a txt arrives along the lines of -  Did it. Buggered. On the bus. Need a drink.  The cycle transport company delivers our triumphant trio and we raise our glasses in awe.  More of our party arrive that night so on day two  a larger group of cyclists take transport to Omarama to begin the 68 km ride for the day.  Half start from there (yesterday's end point) and some of us elect to start a bit further down the road.  Actually it's at the top of the saddle so we start with a long, luscious down hill section.

It's not all beer and skittles though. As we leave Otematata and head up to Lake Benmore hydro dam, the trail description rings in our ears "It’s a steep road up to the dam, so you may need to walk the last 800 metres".  Yes of course we bloody do!!  Well, all except one of us.

Who says power stations are ugly?

Mercifully the road down the other side of Lake Aviemore, across another dam and along another couple of hydro lakes through the Waitaki Valley to Kurow, is only slightly undulating and ever so slightly downhill.  All of these lakes, rivers and towns are parts of the history of hydroelectric power generation in New Zealand and terribly fascinating of you are that way inclined. .   

However, by this stage our interest centres on a wine tasting that has been arranged for us. After a reviving cup of coffee we adjourn to the  'Vintner's Drop' - a Waitaki Valley regional wine tasting room in the Old Post Office in Kurow.  The Waitaki Valley is one of New Zealand's newer and lesser known wine areas, but should become world famous for its stunning Rieslings and Pinot Noir.  We do not stint on either tasting or buying. 

Out trusty cycle touring company transports us back to Lake Ohau Lodge for another convivial dinner, a considerable amount of wine and the sleep of the innocent.  

A weekend of great company, good food and wine and a "little bit" of exercise in the most outstanding scenery. Is this what heaven is made of?

miles of lupins bloom along the roadside in the Mackenzie Country