Kiwi Brevet 2012 - Day 3

Day 3 – Hanmer to Wharfedale Track 133km (approx)

For some unknown reason I slept longer than I should have – had been feeling quite lethargic in the mornings for a couple of weeks (everything catching up with me?) and this morning was no exception. At 9.15am I presented myself and the broken bike to the shop owner – a nice guy. Their main bike related business is rentals, not repairs, so the workshop was spartan and messy. He settled into his work though (covering his light tan coloured pants in muck from my derailleur in the process – bonus Fly Buys points for him when his wife saw those). No amount of force by hand or spanner would un-jam the derailleur. Into the vice it went. Out came the hammer. It was fairly large. I closed my eyes.... A few whacks later, I had a derailleur that pointed where it should. Reassembly took a while – the derailleur was twisted & the hanger bent as well. I had another eye closing moment as things were forced back into alignment. Amazingly though, it worked. “Let’s clean that chain’ the guy says. ‘Awesome!’ I reply, thinking he would whip out one of those nice on-the-bike chain cleaners. Nup – it was out to the waiting waterblaster, where the whole back end of the bike was subjected to a, well, blasting. After 30 seconds I convinced him that the chain was now clean (even if he’d succeeded in covering the rest of the bike in a fine film of muck from the chain). Back to the workshop and 2 turns of the barrel adjuster later I had a very smooth & responsive drivetrain again.

After a silent prayer to the gods of all things mechanical, I left Hanmer at 10.45. Holding my breath with every shift, I was soon past the point of yesterday’s failure and into unknown territory.

It didn’t take long until I put the hammer down – on a mission to make up the lost time. Culverden was a great cafe stop and my final resupply before the Wharfedale. I ripped past Hurunui (in hindsight I should have stopped to eat at the hotel/cafe there too) before the gravel roads to MacDonald Downs took over. Actually great camping could be had along some of these roads, as they have wide, flat & grassy verges.

Sandra had sent a text (relayed from the Brevet website) saying ‘watch for wrong left turn at MacDonald Downs.’ I had heard from Sandra some guys had navigational issues here. The cue sheet said ‘turn Right onto ‘Clark Hall Rd’ and there I was staring at a sign that said ‘MacDonald Downs’ with no road name. My instinct told me to turn, but I was scared that it was just a farm track entrance, not the ‘road’ we were supposed to be on. Ended up going up and over a dirty great hill before finding the mystery ‘Clark Hall Rd” (it was signposted as the correct name). So I rode onto the road as the Cue Sheet instructed. The road ended at 2 farm workers houses. Backtrack to the actual MacDonald Downs turnoff, losing 45 minutes in the process. The difficulty here was that I’d found the Cue Sheet distances & my odometer were sometimes up to 2km out, hence my decision to ride on & look for ‘Clark Hall Rd’.

Oh yes – the wrong left turn in the text was actually a RIGHT turn. Confusing all round.

MacDonald Downs was lovely – good surface that undulated, with only a couple of walking hills. Scattered sheep everywhere – they leapt like lemmings off and over banks as me and my noisy Hope hub approached (actually the hub worked well at moving any stragglers – just freewheel & a noise like a large angry rattlesnake does the trick). Navigation was easy & it wasn’t too long before I was out – now determined to make it at least to Wharfedale Hut for the night.

Turns out that was a bit optimistic – first I had to contend with a valley that had gates across the road every 200 metres (all closed of course!) and a very very slow surface before finally making it over some small hills into Lees Valley. The run through there was great – a fast surface and cruising at 32kph, fantastic! All I needed to do was count down the km until the turning to Wharfedale Track.

Again I made a navigational error – sailing past the sign for the track (it was actually signposted as Thompsons Track, so I wouldn’t have turned anyway). I went another 4km on, over a bridge and up (you guessed it) another dirty great hill before realising I’d screwed up. As luck would have it, a car came by (the first in a long time). I flagged it down, to be told Wharfedale Track was actually back the way I had come. Turn around, at least it’s a descent. Twilight now, oh dear. Get to signpost for Thompson’s Track and have a ‘WTF’ moment. As luck would have it, another passing car – confirming that this was, indeed, the mystical and magical joy that is the Wharfedale Track. Struggle like crazy to get bike over a stile (the gut feeling that I had too much weight was now correct) as I had to unload the front to get it over. Reload, realise that a) the sandflies are bad, b) that I REALLY need to eat VERY soon, c) I am almost completely out of water and d) it is suddenly getting dark.

The first bit of the Wharfedale Track actually follows a 4wd track over, around and through farmland & a river bed. Lights fitted & Kennett Bros map in hand, I set out, get lost at the ‘emergency access’ sign, find where I am at, realise I need to cross the river, de-shoe, (no wet shoes for me – ha!) cross, re-shoe and ride.

Realising that I am nowhere near the hut and I now need to eat VERY VERY soon, I start looking for a camp site. Find a great one – on the other side of a swampy bit of ground I’d just crossed through (proud to not get shoes muddy – fool!) and that I’d need to re-cross to get water from the river (no muddy feet for me – big fool!).

Ride on, track isn’t the best. Cross river, re-cross river, de-shoeing and re-shoeing each time. Realise I’m in trouble and the hut is definitely out of the question for the night. Look for campsite that is not a) on a swamp, b) on a whole bunch of rocks, c) next to beehives, or d) any combination of these factors,  I run out of track at another river crossing. This time the gravel & rocky bank is very wide and I can’t see the crossing point. Nor can I pick up where the track is on the other side. Realise the safest thing to do is wait until morning, so backtrack a bit and find a reasonable spot to set up the tent. Fetch water from the river (causing great anxiety at home – I was still wearing my backpack with the SPOT in it – so my tracks were all over the place) and finally settle in at 11pm (ish) with a hot pot of rice for dinner.

Kiwi Brevet Day 2

Day 2 – Molesworth Cobb Cottage to Hanmer Springs 85 + 9km

Ranger had kindly agreed to open the gate for us at 6am, which meant people were up & at ‘em at 5. I tried to sleep a bit longer (I am on holiday after all!) but gave up soon after. Ate breakfast with Paul & others at table, Paul’s lighter had conked, so no hot baked beans for him. We were entertained watching Paul shovel in a pile of cold baked beans, chew briefly, then vomit them back up into the nearby bushes (think Paul also had heat-stroke). I managed to get down 95% of my BackCountry Apple Pie, leaving the remainder.

Had a failure of my own – gas canister would not re-seal when I unscrewed from stove. Gas everywhere! I dumped canister outside tent where it continued to splutter & fart every now & again. I didn’t want to take it with me, so waited until the last rider had left before unceremoniously dumping it into the bushes (naughty! – but at least I didn’t put it in the long drop...)

Rolling along it wasn’t long before the climb up Ward’s Pass loomed. It actually wasn’t that bad when compared to Heartbreak Hill yesterday & I found myself at the top pretty quickly. The Tandem Boys and another rider were halfway down the other side, so after quick photos & a video diary, on I went, to my surprise catching the tandem boys at the bottom where they had stopped for food & water.

Isolated Flat is, well, isolated and flat. The Tandem Boys steamed past just as I started up the next big hill, leaving me on my own again. After that hill it was fairly smooth going, slightly downhill(ish) and a reasonably quick surface.

Somewhere in the middle of all this a 4WD club loomed large – about 20 of these beasts steaming past in the middle of the road, creating a huge amount of dust and without even slowing. I stopped after the first one had covered me in dust & headed about 50 metres away from the road, where I snacked & let the dust settle. Soon after I was stung on my tummy by a bee that had somehow got inside my top. It flipping hurt!

Acheron accommodation house & campsite appeared just I was becoming discouraged – finally, I was getting out of this! Snacks, water changeover & I was off, hoping for a fast run into Hanmer, as lunch was calling. Water needs to be treated at this campsite. Horrible surface & a cold headwind made the run into Hanmer a bleak one. From the Jollies Pass turnoff I was playing ‘are we there yet?’ in my mind as the climb up took ages. Jollies descent was steeper & far rougher than I had expected. About half way down I stopped in a lay-by to let my brakes cool (I was braking lots) and noticed my SPOT was missing. Noooooo!! Nothing else to do but start to walk back up the hill (it was under the webbing on the front where I could see it, but had fallen off during the rough descent). About 500m up the road, a 4WD approached – they had found the SPOT – saved!! Secured it in the front pouch of my backpack this time (it sat there happily for the rest of the trip).

Hanmer was good – it was easy to spot the best cafe & 4 Square – just look for the bikes. Freezing southerly wind though, so it was a cold wait for the all day breakfast I’d ordered. A trip to 4 Square & reloading of the backpack & bags & I was off – again as tail-end Charlie (I thought) and with the goal of an overnight stop at Hurunui 50km away.

Leaving Hanmer I was in good spirits – the light drizzle had stopped, the wind wasn’t as biting and I had warmed up in my jacket. 9km out from Hanmer I downshifted as I climbed the hills toward the main bridge out of town and the rear derailleur exploded – turning 180 degrees on itself, jamming solidly in the process and breaking the joining link in the chain. F.....! Assessing the damage on the side of the road I tried to un-jam the derailleur – no joy – locked solid. A quick phone call to Sandra to get number for Hamner Bike shop (it was 4.30pm). Bike shop kindly drove out in a van and after confirming the derailleur needed more than roadside assistance, I was shuttled back to town. Unfortunately the store was closing – it was just the boy & offsider, so they had to follow orders from the owner & close. Nothing for it but to return at 8.30am the next day, when the owner would be in & he could fix it (or sell me a low grade replacement – that was all they had).

A sense of relief overtook me as I sat woefully on the steps of the by now closed bike shop. I’d been feeling a bit down, missing Sandra & Emma a lot and bewildered by how fast everyone was. After the string of problems during the day, maybe this was the culmination and now everything would be okay. I chatted to a couple of locals who confirmed that this was Hanmer’s one & only bike shop, so there was nothing for it but to remove and bag the broken chain and start the walk to the campground 1.5km from town.

At the campground I ended up talking with a guy in his 70’s who was still (road) club racing until a year ago – amazing! It really made me appreciate the universal language that is the love for the bicycle. Maybe this was indeed what Brevet was all about..... that mix of circumstance, people and places. It was with a sense of peace that I pitched the tent, then set to getting myself and gear cleaned up –  after 2 hot & dusty days things were already a mess. The washing machine and dryer were put to good use (note that flowing soap from the toilet block is a perfectly acceptable washing machine powder substitute).

I did feel a bit odd walking back into town in my jacket, compression recovery tights, bike shorts & bike shoes, but it was all I had. Burger & Chips were enjoyed al fresco, before the walk back to camp.

Clean, happy & formulating a cunning plan for an emergency derailleur fix in case mine could not be repaired, I drifted slowly to sleep.

Kiwi Brevet 2012 - Day 1

Day 1 – Blenheim to Molesworth Cobb Cottage 121km

The day began at 6am in the Motel with a quick and nervous breakfast, followed up with a quick packdown of the stuff I wasn’t using into the bike box, which the Motel had kindly agreed to store for me until I returned.

Top Town Cinema (where the briefing was being held) took a bit of finding – I was rather relieved to see I wasn’t the only late arrival (7.20am, supposed to be 7am). Found Simon & claimed my Spot Tracker - all good. Lots of people who obviously knew each other, then there were a few like me who didn’t know anyone else & were just sitting quietly waiting for briefing to get underway.

The briefing was, well, brief and informal. That made me feel better. After figuring out the SPOT tracker I linked up with the other Aucklander, Paul Becker for the ride to Seymour Square. I found a good cafe on the way & stopped for sandwiches and coffee as a second breakfast, also to add more sandwiches to the already overstuffed backpack I was carrying.

Seymour Square – this is it!! Nervous anticipation, mixed with the relaxed banter of the guys who had done it before. An amazing array of bikes – some with creative DIY attachments as the rider had sought to overcome the logistical challenge of carrying sufficient food, water & supplies.

Photo call from Simon, a quick countdown and we were off! Led by Simon in a ‘controlled start’, we were off round the streets to Blenheim, before taking to the cycleway through the park and out of town.

At the top of Taylor’s Pass (anything with the word ‘Pass’ in it meant a lot of climbing), Simon pulled over and managed to photo most of us as we went past – we were now on our own, free to ride at our own pace.

What a pace it was – I quickly found myself near the tail end of the field – a bit of a shock I guess, as I’m usually mid pack in other races. A quick photo, food and nature stop after Taylor’s Pass descent and I was at the rear of the field, with only Paul for company.

The ride up the Awatere Valley was pleasant enough, but it was getting both steeper and warmer. At some point I rode away from Paul, only to have him haul past me again when I stopped for food. Think I was feeling a bit overwhelmed by the whole thing and also had a sneaking suspicion I had too much weight on board the bike.

The serious climbing started around the 35km mark. By now I was counting down to the ‘clean water’ stop at around 50km. At a small flat spot on one particular hill, there it was – lovely mountain stream. A lot of the other riders had stopped & were eating in the shade. By the time I’d half finished the first sandwich, 90% of them had left. The other 10% followed soon after, leaving me feeling a little lonely.

Telling myself ‘that they’ll start coming backwards to me as they blow up/burn out’ I kept going. A few more stops and sure enough, I started seeing a few people again - although then I’d need to stop for food, so I’d lose them again.

Heartbreak Hill (there is always one) happened late afternoon & was the most significant climb of the day. At the bottom of the hill there was a Farmer & crew doing fencing, then the hill just stretched straight past them into the distance. It wasn’t long before I started walking, catching up to other riders doing the same.

Some time after I passed a guy not looking very well in some shade at the side of the road. He waved me on, just suffering a bit from heat. (note to self – there is plenty of water in the river that we follow for a bit – MIOX it & you’re fine. Only carry 4 litres not 5!)

“Molesworth 10km’ read the sign. Woohoo! Hmmm. 14.5 km later I rolled into the Cobb Cottage camp. Paul & others had set up at one end, so I pitched tent next to them on some lush grass, found the river for wash & quickly got into the eat, hydrate, get ready for tomorrow, sleep mode that would become normal over the course of the next week. Paul did a great job of quickly orienting me around the campsite, so I was able to settle down to dinner with the others quickly. The guy who I had seen under tree rolled in, to a round of applause from us. Ranger came by and sat with us for a chat -  great guy – they get  cars going over banks, motorcyclists falling off, a lot of 4WD club people being inconsiderate with their vehicles, they first aid a lot of cyclists for heat stroke & gravel rash & they’ve had 2 heart attack victims already this year. Water is drinkable here without treatment, and the DOC longdrop is well cleaned & cared for (and that was the toilet report).

Bed around 8.45ish, as it got dark.

To Post, or not to Post?

When I originally set up this blog, I had the intention of creating a living document, somewhere that I could share my stories with those who have been supporters of my efforts, family members and friends.

After completing Kiwi Brevet back in February 2012, it was apparent that my experience during that event affected the very core of my being. Returning to work, I tried to focus, but could not. I began to write about my experience, in time after work. Reviewing that document, I realised that it was different to most other blog posts you see from Mountain Bikers - it was a deeply personal account of what happened out there.

Since writing that account of Kiwi Brevet, I have constantly thought about whether it would (or should) always remain private, or whether I should share. With the passing of a number of months, I feel I should publish the account - to achieve my original aim of informing, entertaining - and in some ways to say thanks to those who offer their support and guidance.

I guess it is like a lot of things I do - challenging myself, trying something new, being a bit... different.

The first post

Hiya. If you've found this it means things are working in Internet-land. Awesome!

Anyways, thought it might be fun to set up a blog that could document what I'm getting up to. Can't promise that it will always be seat-of-your-pants-hanging-on-for-dear-life stuff, mainly because life isn't always like that.

So there you go. Before I didn't exist on the Internet, now I do. Fascinating!