From Blob to Enduring Love of Velo

Finding my lungs

2012-01-30T11:49:00.000+13:00

Somewhere on the Longest Day Ride I dropped my lungs. Or it might have been the next day evacuating the airport during the earthquakes, maybe I left them on the floor when I tried to crawl under a chair because I thought the light fittings were going to bounce out of the ceiling and onto me. All I know is that since then I’ve been really struggling with having any lung capacity.

This was shown to me clearly when I ventured up Rapaki for the first time in a year. The geotechs and blasters have finished their work and the track is now officially open, although users are warned to “Stay away!” if they are uncomfortable with the ever present risk of rocks bouncing down on their noggins. I chuckled to see my old friend Danger Officer Commander employing his mighty forearms to repel the deadly rocks and then headed up the track in the sun.

Rapaki is as it ever was, wide and smooth, although a couple of ruts have opened up and filled with deep gravel which could make descending slightly perilsome. As the hot sun beat down on me I was passed by a runner like I was standing still, which I almost was. I was really struggling. In fact I was going almost as slow as the first time I ever rode up Rapaki. My lack of breath was shown to me all to clearly when not too far from the top I had to stop! I just couldn’t catch my breath. Not good.
At the top I lay in the tussocks and enjoyed the stunning view while learning to breathe again. Finally I slowly drifted up the road and across the traverse and then down Sesame St and Dyers Rd. Back to bed with me after that ride.

Last Thursday my hubby and I took a day trip to Hanmer and I was hoping my lungs would be feeling much improved so I could enjoy the flowing tracks. Unfortunately this was not to be and at the halfway point of the climb up Mach 1 I was already struggling. Mach 1 was in mint condition and riding great so even though I wasn’t riding well I still loved it. We very naughtily decided to investigate the progress on reinstating Bigfoot. I ground slowly up the road while hubby took the more difficult option of heading up the Joliffe Track. At the carpark at the top hubby headed into the reinstated Fir Trail while I began the slow process of climbing the 17 switchbacks up Bigfoot.

This section of track hasn’t really been effected by the logging and was mint, although I found that I really struggled with right hand switchbacks and lost my front wheel twice resulting in tree-hugging to save myself. I had to stop a few times on the climb, which was no surprise and hubby caught up with me. Then the descent began. I should really title this naughty ride Blood, Sweat and Fears, because after sweating my way up to the top I was completely freaked out riding down.

Of course this was our own fault for riding a track that isn’t open and ready to be riding yet. With the trees gone and the sharp stones the lie beneath the surface exposed and loose it was nerve jangling riding down. The track is narrower and falls away quickly down the steep banks and what were once fun grippy corners now felt like loose death traps. Finally I came to grief in a steep tight turn where my bike got into the loose stuff and I just couldn’t get it to turn. Skin on knees be gone! After this I ended up walking a couple more of the corners and decided that I probably deserved to lose some skin for riding a closed track. BAD GIRL!

After this we headed up Detox which was in great condition, but I’d lost my bottle and failed to ride the little rock drop. By the bottom I was spent and riding like a complete muppet so I headed back to the car while hubby went out to ride Red Rocks, Swoop, Swamp Track and Yankee Zypher. He came back to the car with bleeding forearms after being attacked by brambles on the more over grown tracks.

So not my best ride in Hanmer and I was feeling a little dejected about my lack of fitness after this adventure. I was also feeling intense burning pain when I applied the liquid plaster to my grazes. Wow that stuff hurts!

Freshly cleaned graze looks fairly minor

Two days later is looking pretty rough and is still owie

So I was a little apprehensive about heading to Living Springs yesterday. The 4wd track climb here is not my friend, I’ve only managed to ride up it a few times and usually I’m ready to pass out by the top. Yesterday I actually rode up it with relative ease. I say relative because to a normal fit person it would have looked like a struggle, but for me it was really good. We sifted around the rest of the tracks, my lovely friend Michelle showing her friend how to ride the lovely tight corners of Zanes. I had my flow on and it was a brilliant ride. But the end of the lap I was feeling so confident we decided to take a look at the Canyon Drop. A very steep pinch climb leads you into a big rollover down a rock into a canyon (surprisingly enough).

As I rolled in to have a look at it I lost my bottle, that thing is steep and a long way down. The lovely Michelle showed me how it was done and then I was rolling in and committed. WEeeeeeee! My forks bottomed out as I hit the bottom and then I was safely zooming out. Awesome.

After that we drove up to Brake Free and sessioned that for a while and I’ve start to get some confidence over jumps again. Then in a fit a madness I decided I wanted to ride down Sesame St and bike back up the hideous steep 4wd track. I was pretty impressed that I managed to ride most of it and only lost my front wheel once! Then an out and back along the Traverse and I was grinning ear to ear. By far the best ride I’ve had in ages. I was really flowing well and rode the Traverse cleaner than I ever have before. I’m really looking forward to heading back down for more time on the Queenstown tracks this week. Come on fitness, I know you’re there somewhere!

New bling and encounters with greatness

2012-01-23T22:39:00.000+13:00

After my adventures on Bob’s Peak (no it doesn’t belong to the slightly mad Geared Facile builder who I work with), I realised that I would need to be equipped with a new toy for Queenstown 6hr Super D Enduro. As luck would have it, a quick trip to my lovely LBS, Hub Cycles, and I discovered the Joplin seat post was currently on special. Great news for me and my bank account, and it also meant I didn’t earn any stern looks from my better half for squandering our precious earnings on toys.

Crank Bros Joplin 4 - bring on the Crank Bros hate you haters

In next to no time the post arrived at the shop and I soon had it in my hot little hands (this is actually a literal statement, my hands are pretty much always hot and are rather small, but perfectly formed). Unfortunately a weekend full of many tasks meant my lovely new post stayed in its box till today. Fortunately one of those tasks was spending all of yesterday at Round 2 of the NZ MTB nationals at Living Springs.

The day started out quite bleak and I was mighty glad to spend the morning in the timing tent with Dunedin track building impresario Hamish Seaton, after working a stretch on the registration desk. The age group racers battled rain and freezing winds and I was glad I had a blanket to wrap my legs in.

After lunch, and a brief drool over Anton Cooper’s gorgeous new Trek, I grabbed my fluro vest and radio and headed up the hill to marshal the Elite and U19 race. And what a pleasure it was. My spot had good sightlines uphill through some tight switch backs and then down through the forest across a couple of slippery bridges. Watching the Elite guys and girls race was really inspirational, but watching Anton was a real highlight. I’ve seen him race quite a few times, but usually not through technical tight stuff. He rode my section much faster than any of the other riders on the course and seemed to move his bike with almost inhuman skill. The boy is fast. It was a great afternoon cheering young Disco Slippers and all the other awesome riders on, so I wasn’t regretting not being able to ride myself.

Anton Cooper pinning it at Living Springs - Photo Peter Ball

Today I rectified the lack of weekend riding. The Joplin was super quick and easy to install as I decided not to go for the version with a remote as I don’t really want more cables and bar clutter on my bike. The under seat lever is easy to reach and works great. After a few circles of the driveway I was happy with my seat position and soon I was pedalling up to the start of the Nun.

Being able to just drop my seat fully and blast straight in was awesome, but felt a bit weird. I’m very much used to riding the Nun with my seat up. Having it right down made a huge difference. The back end behaved better, I hit more of the little jumps and got more air than I generally do and I would have had one of my best runs if I hadn’t gone through one of the two puddles and ended up with an eye full of mud. And I’m not exaggerating about that. I managed to ride down the rocky section I was half way through, then stopped and tried to rinse the mud out. The rest I blinked away and I’m still getting little lumps of mud coming out the corner of my eye now. Gross.

This is the section of track I was half blinded for. Not fun.

Second run was even better. I found the optimum drop for my seat, right down just wasn’t quite right and by the third I was pinning it. It would be interesting to see if I can keep up with my husband on his big bike yet.

By the end of three runs my legs were jelly and my lungs gasping, but it was brilliant. The Joplin seat post was smooth and worked brilliantly. I love it. I really can’t wait for my birthday when I head down to Queenstown for more gondola shuttles.

And finally tonight I want to share this photo I took when I was in Alex of me and my Mum (or for grammar Nazis, my mother and I). We’re riding the River track that runs from Alex to Clyde and you can tell we’re loving it. My Mum is the reason I started riding bikes, she’d been doing races and endurance rides for years before I got my first bike since university. I love riding with my Mum, she’s always up for a challenge and she’s got great skills. I certainly hope I can still ride so well when I’m in my 60’s (sorry Mum, love you).

Skyline Gondola Queenstown – 5,000 metres of descent

2012-01-13T10:41:00.000+13:00

It is raining outside, which is good for Central Otago because they really need it and good for me because I’m knackered. I’ve been making the most of my time down here and on Wednesday hit the BMX track. That thing is loooooong. But fun. And very good for the skills as I found out yesterday when I drove through to Queenstown to hit up the Gondola on Bob’s Peak which now takes mountain bikes.

Arriving at about 10:30 (the gondola opens to bikes at 10) I soon had my purple half day wrist band ($45) and was in line for the gondola with a lot of downhill bikes. My little anthem suddenly looked even smaller and I felt a little apprehensive about what I was letting myself in for. At the top I had a quick chat with the guy at the bike workshop (you can hire bikes from the top or bottom) and was on my way. First stop Hammy’s, the longest and easiest trail on the hill. I took it easy and tried to tune into my bike and by the halfway mark realised I was being an idiot with my seat still all the way up. After dropping it 5cm the second half flowed much better and I was looking forward to my second run of the track. Hammy’s has plenty of little jumps and rollers for pumping. The BMXing really paid off!

After a few more Hammy’s, with a bit of riding on the structures beside the track, I decided it was time to move onto Vertigo, a blue grade 3 track. This was brilliant. Because it’s a bit harder and perhaps because of the steep entry it doesn’t seem to get the traffic of Hammy’s and was in excellent condition. While Hammy’s has plenty of big bermed corners, a lot of them are loose and badly rutted as riders brake hard and they see a lot of traffic. On Vertigo most of the corners are smooth and super-fast and there are plenty of roots and little step down to challenge. There are some bigger jumps too, but all are rollable if you’re willing to drop your speed. I really need to work on my jumps as I managed a couple of exciting nose wheelies just before the descent to the halfway mark.

Hairpin turn on Hammys one side...

... gorgeous view on the other

From the halfway mark I dropped into Original, which has plenty of steep sections, rooty blown out bits and in the later sections big wheel eating braking bumps and loose ruts. Plenty of challenges for someone on a steep angled cross country bike and halfway down it my brakes were singing the “I’m freaking hot” song.

As usual the camera doesn't do justice to the steepness

Each run down the hill I got more confident and learn a bit more about carrying speed and hitting the right lines. I was even starting to get a bit of air in places, on purpose too. Riding up in the gondola was the perfect opportunity to eat, drink and stretch the fingers. And on a number of occasions, chat to fellow riders. On my final ride up the hill I was sharing the gondola with a local chick on a downhill bike. I’d been wanting to ride Singletrack Sandwich, but as it is a black diamond grade 5 trail I was a little apprehensive about heading down it on the Anthem. She told me it was just steel and narrow, with one rollable drop and I decided to give it a go.

Down Hammies to the halfway mark and then a wee rest to prepare myself. Entering Singletrack Sandwich you are slightly lulled into a false sense of security as it starts off level, twisting over roots, through trees. Then it drops. A lot. The first corner was really steep and badly rutted down the middle. I stopped to examine it before I rode it, found a line I liked and rode it no problem. The next corner was even steeper and super loose and powdery. It looked ok, but I soon discovered the my bike didn’t want to turn so I bailed gracefully and walked round it. I was glad I did because the drop was at the bottom of this corner and I don’t think my seat was down low enough to safely roll it. So I walked that too. Next time.

My little baby hanging out with the big kids

The rest of the track was fairly straight forward in comparison to those two corners. Lots of roots, ruts and narrow bits, but really fun and in no time I was back on Original and then whooshing onto Hammy’s for the last time.

Oh so good!

11 runs down the hill done and I had time for one more, but I was feeling pretty exhausted so I decided to call it a day while I was intact and headed into town for a gelato at Patagonia Chocolates. Just as I was finishing my well-earned treat the rain came down so I timed that perfectly. On the drive home I realised I was still very hungry despite the huge ice cream as I couldn’t stop fantasising about Jimmy’s pies. A quick stop in Cromwell remedied that and soon I was back at Mum’s and lying on the couch exhausted.

I cannot wait to head back to Queenstown and do that again, but till then I think I need to get stronger hands and fitter legs and arms. Riding down the equivalent of 1.5 Mt Cooks really takes it out of you.

Maybe I should have listened to my architect

2012-01-11T10:51:00.001+13:00

You may recall that just before the Longest Day ride I posted a query regarding my state of cursedness and discoursed on my level of horrible sickness. It so happened that that evening I was arranging a meeting with my architect, who happens to be a rather awesome singlespeed riding mad man, who had read my blog and gave me a well-meaning, but protracted lecture on looking after myself. Some of you may be aware that I have somewhat of a determined streak (be polite!) so I was sure I would ride, and I did and you have probably seen the results if you tune in regularly (it’s the previous post if you don’t).

Well, after that I didn’t feel too bad. Unfortunately the next day my lovely hubby and I were at the airport waiting for our delayed (oh the shock) Jetstar flight when a nice big earthquake hit. And then another bigger one. I am not embarrassed to say that I was really fricken scared during both of them. Seems my earthquake resilience is completely shot and now even minor wobbles freak me.

While in Auckland for chrimble I entered a different dimension.... ooooOOOOoooo

The upshot of all this was a Christmas break with me suffering from very CFSs like symptoms, including sleeping most of the time, being incoherent at times, terrible headaches and migraines, and feeling completely weak and feeble. Of course this freaked me out even more, and I began to actually regret my awesome longest day ride.

I wasn't the only thing feeling worse for wear after more earthquakes

However now I’m on the mend so I’m not feeling soooo bad, but yes Dayle you were probably right, don’t rub it in.

To celebrate feeling slightly better I did a silly thing and decided that my first ride of the New Year should be the lung searing, technical grin-fest that is Living Springs. Hmmmm. When I got on my bike it felt weird under me. I don’t know if you’ve ever experienced this, but usually when I’m riding the bike and I are kind of one thing moving together. This was not the case on Sunday. And hence I completely overcooked a corner in Zanes and slid out. My forearm and thigh came down heavily on a root and I immediately developed an alien baby to rival the one I got in Hanmer that time.

Needless to say when I caught up to my husband I was not a happy camper having decided I could no longer ride to save my life that I was obviously destined to spend the rest of summer in bed sleeping my life away. Yes, I can be a little melodramatic at times. Fortunately after lying in the grass for a while and being consoled by my man I decided to push on with another lap. And I quite literally did as I really couldn’t ride up the 4wd track, but I didn’t care. My climbing up the switchbacks in The Pines was still good and sooner than I thought was possible for me in my current state, I was at the top of Rhymes with Orange and ready for another attempt at Zanes (via Mississippi). And what do you know, it was brilliant. I was one with the bike and flowed up, over, around and down the track, getting to the bottom much much faster than the first lap. Yay!

After that awesome ride we headed to Lyttleton for a drink at the new container bar Port Hole on the site of my beloved Volcano. You can still see the cool garden bar, but everything else is gone.

Frequent patrons of the Lava Bar will recognise these steps

Now I am in sunny, hot Alex and with me I have my Anthem, my bmx and my road bike. Fun times are ahead. I’ve already checked out the brilliant pump track, and in the process discovered how effective my grippy pedals are at removing cores of shin flesh. I’m planning on heading to Queenstown while I here for some gondola shuttlez as I’ve entered the Queenstown Bike Festival 6hr Super-D Enduro at the end of March. So excited about that one. And as if that wasn’t enough fun I’m also heading to Wellington for the Revolve women’s Super V race. Oh yeah, March madness for me this year (sorry about the alliteration, I couldn’t help it).

Artistically placed pedal garks

Longest day - awesome

2011-12-22T23:07:00.000+13:00

Well I didn't get better, but I did ride my bike all day and it was brilliant. I'm shattered now and since a picture is worth a thousand words here's a link to all my pictures from the ride.

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150540252517238.434735.744277237&type=1&l=3077c0f8fa

Thanks so much to everyone who donated, we raised almost $3500 for Arthritis NZ and that's fantastic. Have a merry chrimble.

Am I Cursed?

2011-12-21T16:11:00.000+13:00

You may remember that at the start of the month I recounted my festive season mishaps and illness and boldly declared that this year would be different. Now, if you were me, and like me were writing this from your sick-bed after being laid low with a nasty summer cold, you might feel a little put out. Perhaps even feel like you were being punished for tempting fate? Well I kind of feel like that, but buggeration! I’m not going to let it stop me taking part in the Longest Day Ride tomorrow.

Currently I’m trying every home remedy under the sun to get rid of my hideous germs. Garlic pills, Vitamin D, C, and B. An immune system boosting herbal remedy. Gaggling salt water. Drinking a mixture of fresh chillis, garlic, ginger, orange and honey, simmered and blended. Panadol. Sleep. Positive visualisation. Fresh fruit and veges. Plenty of fluids. So far I still feel like complete bollocks.

So I have come up with two alternate plans for tomorrows ride. The I’m still feeling a bit rough and shouldn’t really smash myself plan (A); and The I felt like utter crap but I’m pigheaded and will not let down the people who have donated to me plan(B).

Plan A involves no fun Port Hills action, but a sift between McLeans and Bottlelake (still with breakfast at the duck pond) and maybe an extended visit to Orana Park. I still intend to be out for the duration of the ride.

Plan B involves not taking my MTB at all, but spending the whole day on my Duchess cruising around the central city and documenting the Gap Filler initiatives, and various other signs of our city’s recovery from the earthquakes. I hope to still be out for the duration of the ride but will pull the pin if a feel like fainting or anything silly like that.

To say I’m gutted that my awesome ride is in jeopardy is an understatement. But it seems that this is my lot for the festival season so when I wake tomorrow at 5am and get ready to get on my bike at 5:45am I’m prepared for things not to be ideal. For now I’ll keep drinking my tonics and think positive and pack my dry bag tonight. Wish me luck. I really need it!

Excitement vs. Fear

2011-12-18T21:07:00.000+13:00

On Saturday I went for my last “training” ride before the Longest Day on Thursday. 80+kms out to Leeston and back on my roadie. I had a disgusting headwind on the way out and first half wasn’t fun at all. I headed out to Leeston because it was my niece’s 12th birthday party so when I got there I devoured cakes and sausage rolls galore and felt much better.

After a couple of hours it was back on the bike and zooming along with a lovely tailwind. I was quite worried that the fickle wind would have turned on me, but it hadn’t . That made the ride back home much easier, but I have to say riding a long distance on the roadie is not for me. My butt and sit-bones were killing me by the end of the ride and my back wasn’t exactly over the moon either.

I was pretty happy with how my legs felt at the end so now I’ve done all I can do riding wise in preparation for the big day. And I’ve tarted up my bike with my Freeload Rack and some orange gerbera’s I had lying around (they’re the flower Arthritis NZ use for fundraising); and ordered a new higher stem for added comfort – to go with my bar ends.

Today I planned out my route around food stops and now I’m feeling a little afraid. It’s looking like 160kms and I’m just not sure I have that in me. I’ve built in some riding that I can trim out depending on how I’m feeling, but my plan involves being out at McLeans Island towards the end of the ride and I’ll have a long way to come home if it all goes pears. I’ve worked out a rough timetable which has made me feel a bit better about it. Manageable chunks and all. If anyone wants to meet up for any portion of the ride my plan is below.

5.45am Leave Home
6.30am Finish feeding ducks at the quarry.
7.30am Rest above the pylon on Kennedy’s Bush just after Siberia flat
8.30am Bottom of the Nun
9.00am Leave Brake Free
10.00am The Brewery for big feed
11.00am Lunch at the pier stock up on food.
12pm Skinnies and resting
1.30pm Spencer park for ice cream and flying fox
3pm Kaiapoi café for food, stock up for later
4.30pm Back at Old Waimak bridge after doing Kaiapoi Island
6pm Mcleans Island carpark. Cruise to Orana park carpark to look at monkeys and rest
7.30pm Burrito Bros in Papanui
8.30pm Hagley Park and a sift round the Red Zone
9.11pm Home and dead.

The map of my ride is at http://www.mapmyride.com/routes/view/61062904/

I watched the 3D fly through, which was pretty cool, and took 30mins! That’s a lot of riding. My plan is to keep everyone updated via facebook, for my friends and Twitter, for those who aren’t. My twitter profile is http://twitter.com/ahidingplace . I’ll be posting photos and updates throughout the day so you can all share my pain. I’ll be checking my txts and facebook regularly as I’ve bought myself a chunk of data for the ride and will be extremely appreciative of any feedback I get, especially from 4pm onwards. I’m pretty such my spirits may be flagging somewhat by then. So from now till 5am on Thursday morning, I’m going to eating well, sleeping, resting and packing my gear. And of course, soliciting donations for Arthritis NZ at http://www.everydayhero.co.nz/longest_day_ride_2011

Wish me luck! I’m going to need it.

Look Ma! No Brakes!

2011-12-15T09:14:00.000+13:00

Disclaimer: The author of this blog in no way condones riding bikes that are not safe. Unless you want to. Then it’s your problem and you are as silly as I am.

A couple of weeks back I finally got my little ghetto singlespeed back from my lovely friend’s large garage where it’s been vacationing since I got chronic fatigue. Unfortunately the reason my back brake was playing up before this enforced retirement was clear when we wheeled it out into the sun. My rear brake cable had split and the rather horrible liquid that is Dot brake fluid had leaked all over the left crown of my crappy forks, very effectively removing all traces of paint. Bugger.

Now I know that somewhere in the depths of our overstuffed garage there is a spare back brake just waiting to have its destiny fulfilled, however a couple of exploratory missions have failed to find it. Until yesterday when I finally found the bugger, but then was too lazy to fit it before going for a ride. After all, I had a perfectly good front brake and I was only going to McLeans Island – what could possibly go wrong?

I’d decided that I’d do a couple of the 15km loops on the singlespeed to see how my legs were feeling in the lead up to next Thursday (more on that later). The reason I wasn’t too worried about having only one brake at McLeans is I’m not actually fast enough to need to brake anywhere on the track. This track has been the place I’ve learnt to corner and now I can confidently ride the whole thing without so much as a zephyr of brake applied. Of course it’s nice to know I have the option when barrelling down the stop banks, but apparently what you don’t know won’t hurt you.

The first loop went fine, if a little slow, having ridden 50kms on the roadie in the scorching heat the previous day. However when I got to the end and applied my front brake to stop nothing happened. Well, something happened. My brake level travelled to my grip with no resistance whatsoever and a small fountain of brake fluid squirted out of the reservoir onto the ground. What didn’t happen was any slowing of any sort. Bugger.

So I circled around to drop my speed before applying my foot brake (that’s a foot on the ground in layman’s terms). So now I had no brakes at all. I have no idea when the pesky screw that keeps the fluid safely in its reservoir shook loose, I hadn’t touched my brakes at all on the first loop. With that in mind I decided a second loop would be fine and decided to trust my cornering skills. And I’ll tell you this. Riding around with no brakes, knowing that you have no brakes, makes you corner really really well. I didn’t ride any slower this loop, in fact it was significantly faster now that my legs were warmed up. What I did do was sight my line clearly and commit to it fully and it was so good.
Of course now I need to sort out both brakes because I wouldn’t even consider riding my singlespeed to the shops or round McLeans in the evening or at the weekend (when there are lots of other people there) without brakes. I may be able to control what I do, but chaos ensues when others are around.

And now for the portion of today’s post where I pimp the Longest Day Ride and endeavour to convince you, my loyal readers, to sponsor me in this madness.

I’m sure many of you think of Arthritis as an old person’s disease, and to some degree you are right. The great majority of people who suffer from this are older. In fact if you are a cyclist and have had a serious injury involving bone or joint damage you can look forward to having it in your future. I have it already thanks to my old knee injury.

However young people, and I’m talking really young people, also suffer from this debilitating disease. When I was little, 6 or 7, we lived in Palmerston, just north of Dunedin. Our neighbours there had a son slightly younger than me, Andrew, and a baby daughter, Melanie. Of course, because Melanie had the same name as me and was a cute blond baby I was very interested in her. Unfortunately when Melanie was 2, just after we arrived, she developed chronic juvenile arthritis. It was terrible and the memory of what she and her parents went through is still with me. I can clearly see in my mind’s eye her terribly swollen knees and elbows. I can still hear her screaming as her parents carried out the clearly painful exercises of her joints they had to do to ensure she wouldn’t lose mobility. It was really hard for a 7 year old child to understand what caused this pain, but at the time there were ads on TV explaining that arthritis is like having shards of glass in your joints. The image of a bone with sharp spears of glass sticking out of it is what I saw whenever we were at the neighbours playing and Melanie was in a bad way.

We didn’t keep in touch with this family when we moved away, but I can tell you that Melanie Sloan has made a huge success of her life and dedicates much of her time to helping others. I can tell you this because she’s received multiple awards for her courage and caring and the details are all over the interwebs.
http://arthritis.dev.zoe.co.nz/index.php/news/687-arthritis-new-zealand-congratulates-award-winner
http://www.odt.co.nz/regions/north-otago/138850/teacher-supreme-winner-acc-attitude-awards
http://www.eeotrust.org.nz/peoplepower/view_case.cfm?org=St%20Joseph%27s%20Primary%20School

Melanie’s story is one of the many reason’s I’m going to push my body through all sorts of pain next Thursday. No matter how bad it gets, and it will get bad, it will be nothing to what Melanie and thousands of other sufferers go through every day. And without the amazing work that Arthritis New Zealand does their quality of life would be severely diminished. So please, if you can spare as little as $5, please go to http://www.everydayhero.co.nz/longest_day_ride_2011 click the Donate Now button and pledge some money to me, Melanie Dunlop. Or any of the other mad buggers doing this ride. Thanks.

The first day of summer

2011-12-02T18:11:00.001+13:00

Yesterday was the first day of summer and I decided to celebrate and to signal my intentions to karma, that this year I shall ride my bike a lot over the summer months. This is because over the last 3 years I have not ridden my bike much at all over the summer months.

26th of December 2008 – nasty broken elbow requiring surgery and subsequent 3 month recovery. No riding.
22nd December 2009 – high speed crash on the Bowenvale 4wd track resulting in sprained ribs front and back. Very little riding for 2 months and all of it painful.
19th December 2010 – mystery tummy bug which mutates into pleurisy (WTF!) and then becomes chronic fatigue syndrome. No riding, walking and very little being out of bed for 5 months.

This summer will be different. There will be so much riding done I will have ridiculous tan lines and calves of doom! I will not be injured or fall ill. I will ride my bikes.

Zealous rant over, I’ll compose myself now.

So yesterday, being sunny and gorgeous, seemed the perfect day to get out on the bike and see what my legs had in them. After all it is only three weeks till the longest day ride when I’ll be riding from 5.45am till 9.11pm to raise money for Arthritis New Zealand. Go here to donate money to my cause I’ll publicly proclaim my undying admiration for you right here on this blog!
http://www.everydayhero.co.nz/longest_day_ride_2011

I’ve worked out I’ll be riding at least 120kms over the insane 15 ½ hour period so a little warm up ride would be in order. I decided a jaunt up Kennedy’s Bush, along the Summit Rd, down Gebbies Pass, back to Tai Tapu and back into town, home. The plan was to stop at the Blue Duck Café in Motakarara for some lunch and a nice flat sift home. Of course you know what they say about the best laid plans.

In the glorious sun I really enjoyed my first full ride up Kennedy’s Bush in a year. My legs felt good and I took it easy knowing I had a long ride ahead of me. That said I made the decision near the top that I would ride all of the tricky steep last section. And amazingly I did. Sure I had to stop 5 times, 4 because of exploding lungs and legs, once because of poor line choice; but I did ride the whole thing. Something I’ve only ever done one other time in the 5 years I’ve been riding that track. Now my aim is to the ride the whole thing without stopping before winter comes.

The top of Kennedy's Bush

At the top I stopped to enjoy the singing of the Skylarks, the smell of the broom in bloom and the view over the city to the Alps. Plus a well-earned roast beef sandwich. Then it was back in the saddle and out to the road for the long tarmac section of my ride. There was still plenty of climbing to do before I got to drop down to Gebbies Pass, but I really enjoyed it. Especially since last time I rode this section of the Summit Rd it was completely fogged in and quite scary with no visibility. http://ilovetobikelots.blogspot.com/2010/02/touring-very-serious-preparations.html

Time for a sammich

I stopped briefly at one of my favourite places on the Port Hills, Sign of the Bellbird, to eat the rest of my sandwich and a nut bar to fortify me till my planned lunch stop at Motakarara. I was so relieved to see the ruins of the old tearooms still standing and enjoyed my chat with an English couple visiting NZ. Then it was back on the bike and up and up and away. The drop down to Gebbies was brilliant, steep, tight and fast. Unfortunately on Gebbies itself I caught up to a fully loaded sheep truck so I was on the brakes with a nose full of stench the whole way down. Boo.

The view from the Summit Rd over Lyttleton Harbour, stunning.

At the bottom my tummy started rumbling and I began to fantasise about what sort of delicious treats I would avail myself of at the Blue Duck. As the tailwind pushed me along I tried not to think about the fact that it would be a gusty side/headwind once I turned for Tai Tap. As I pulled up to the intersection where the Blue Duck sits I was overjoyed to see a large number of vehicles parked outside it. I had had a sudden thought it might not be open as I got close. Relieved I pulled into the car park only to be greeted with a large “Closed till early December” notice on the door. All the vehicles were tradesmen refitting the café. Bollocks.

Inside the old tearooms at Sign of the Bellbird

There was nothing else for it but to get back on my bike and head for Tai Tap. I knew I was in trouble though. I really needed food and another 10kms into a headwind was going to leave me feeling pretty rubbish. I kicked myself for not packing extra food, flicked my speedo to distance rather than painful time and got on my way. The ride to Tai Tap was not fun, however the ever distracting mental arithmetic of “If I’m currently going x k’s per hour and I have y k’s till food, then it will take me z minutes to get there, and that’s really not that long” kept me going. I’m sure many of you will have employed this technique in the wind.

I reached Tai Tap with screaming legs and feeling rather light headed and ordered myself sugary treats and a sugary beverage to power on for the last 20kms home. Sitting in the shade I was slightly disappointed, but not surprised, to note that I had gone past the point of being able to eat and struggled to get the food down. I ended up wrapping up my gorgeous looking double decker afghan (yup, I’m going through a phase) for later consumption.

Treats! Get in mai belleh!

The rest of the ride was a mental game over the pain, predominantly in my gluts. I had bonked, but was determined to make it home and employed that age old classic – making a deal – to do it. I told myself once I got to 50kms I could have a lie down and I did. Lying in the shade of gum trees on a stream bank was heaven. The air smelt of warmth and gum trees and water. I was almost glad I was so tired or I wouldn’t have got to enjoy this lovely moment. Back on the bike I slogged into the wind until I reached Halswell where I stopped for a Cola Popsicle in the shade. Just the last push I needed to get home.

It was a great fun ride, but I now know that the 22nd of December is going to wreck me good and proper. But it is for a good cause so I’m still up for it. And don’t forget – donate here http://www.everydayhero.co.nz/longest_day_ride_2011 If you’re a mountain biker carrying injuries, there’s a good chance you’ll need the services of Arthritis NZ in the future. I know I will.

The Wharfdale ride – Brilliant!

2011-11-28T17:47:00.001+13:00

Much of my riding lately has been of the commuting and roadie-ing variety, with a few bursts up Huntsbury for good measure. So it was with great excitement that my hubby and I set out towards Oxford on Saturday to attempt the Wharfdale. I say attempt as we have tried to ride it once before, about 3 years ago. That was a horrific nightmare which ended up with me completely scared out of my head and not getting very far up the track after almost falling down a large bank.

This time I was feeling quietly confident that both my skills and fitness had improved enough to make the ride a fun challenge. Things seemed to be in our favour when we got to the second ford and it was low enough to drive the little car through. Yay! I shouted earning a “Please use your inside voice” frown from my hubby. This meant cutting out a lot of yucky thick shingle road climbing to get to the car park. Once there we quickly unloaded, checked our bikes and headed off into the gorgeous beech forest.

We’d picked a perfect day. It was warm and sunny with barely a breath of wind. The track was in good nick with no windfall blocking our paths and mostly dry surfaces. As we climbed we encountered plenty of DOCs deadly wheel eating water-bars. Some of these are fine, the right distance apart that a bike wheel rolls over it nicely. A lot of them aren’t and require a bit of front wheel lifting to avoid an over-the-bars experience. I managed to have two rather amusing slow speed otb experiences. The first, unfortunately was right in front of a group of trampers who were having lunch. A water-bar, full of muddy water was in front of me and I was momentarily distracted by the sight of 10 people sitting, watching me approach it. Hence I did not lift my front wheel. And to compound issues the water-bar was deceptively deep under that muddy grey water. As you have no doubt guessed my front wheel dropped into the water-bar and did not move forward another centimetre. I, on the other hand, continued on my merry way without my bicycle and came to rest on a rather soft moss bank. Win! Except for the embarrassment factor. All I could do was laugh at the ridiculousness of my crash, get back on and cycle through the group with a cheery wave and a hello!

My second endo was even funnier. Once upon a time the Wharfdale had little bridges over the many streams that cross the track (so I’m told). Unfortunately they were all removed after the terrible Cave Creek accident. Now there are a lot of rather steep-sided little gullies. Feeling quite confident I eased my way down a steep one, thinking I could see an ok exit line. Once down in the gully though I quickly realised that there was no way my bike would defy the laws of physics and my front wheel would not go up the other side. So at the bottom I stopped and tipped forward gracefully onto my face. It was hilarious, although when I asked my husband, who was following me, he said it didn’t look funny at all.

Those were my two crashes on the way up and they didn’t dampen my spirits or confidence in the slightest. I loved the gradient of the climb, I loved the narrow twisty track, I loved the tree roots and rocky sections. I loved the challenge of it. I even loved the crazily deep mud bogs. Sure I had to get off and walk a few of the unrideable step-ups and step downs and almost all the stream crossings, but I didn’t care. Sure there were a couple of hairy spots where I had to walk my bike down the track or push it up, but I didn’t care about that either. I just loved being in the gorgeous beech forest, out in the mountains, having an adventure.

The thing is, I’ve never really been able to get out into the amazing native bush and mountains we have in NZ because of my bung knee. And until now, I think it’s fair to say, I haven’t had the skills or fitness required for these backcountry missions. So it was a bit of a revelation to me to ride the Wharfdale. I knew it would be good, but for me it was a whole new level of love for my bike.

When we got to the saddle we were both feeling quite jaded and even the addition of delicious afghan biscuits was not enough to convince us to push on to the hut. So we headed back out. So Much Fun. Well apart from the 3 or 4 pushing parts and the bit where I started in the wrong gear and toppled to the wrong side of the track (luckily I was caught by two little trees and only have a racing stripe on the back of my arm to show for my near miss). I felt completely at one with my bike and even got the knack of lifting my front wheel up over the water-bars of doom. The whole ride was awesome and when we got back to the car park we were both covered in mud and absolutely exhausted.

Now I’m completely obsessed with doing more challenging rides like this. I can’t wait to get out into the backcountry and experience the stunning landscapes that are right on my backdoor step.

Terrifying Scarecrow? No, 4wd track madness!

2011-11-01T21:44:00.000+13:00

In case you hadn't worked out from my obscure reference in the title today's blog post is brought to you by Worsleys; the track with ruts that could easily swallow a clydesdale (which I'm reliably informed is the standard unit for measuring rut biggerness). For those of you too young to understand the reference to terrifying scarecrows, well there once was a TV show starring Jon Pertwee as a scarecrow that could remove it's head and put a different one on, depending on what the situation called for. His name was Worzel Gummidge and seeing him screw off his head and replace it traumatised many a young child in the early 80s.

Anyway, onto the topic in hand. Last week I rode up Worsleys for the first time. I've heard many tales of steepness and gigantic ruts so I've always been too scared to head up it. However since I got sick I'm all for trying new things and Worlseys was high on my list.

I was pleasantly surprised that the climb up the road was easier than expected and soon (well 20 minutes later, I didn't say I was fast) I was starting to negotiate some little ruts, only about a foot deep. Quickly the ruts became valleys and choosing the correct path became crucial. 4wds have really hammered this track and in places I was deep inside a mega rut that had become a mini canyon. And it was fairly steep in places. But I loved it. Having to focus on my line the whole time meant I didn't get a chance to think about how sucky riding up a hill can be. Better yet, I could actually do it! I didn't fall off once, even when the line I chose narrowed down to little wider than my wheel I kept on up. Sure I stopped lots. But I only walked a couple of little bits where I'd completely picked the wrong path.

Some of the easy, mini ruts.

So by the time it leveled out before the last climb I was grinning. Even though I knew the Bodybag was coming. And then it was in front of me, rising quickly to almost vertical (ok that's a gross exaggeration, but it is stupidly steep). Luckily the ruts had subsided back to sensible levels. After a rest and a mental setting of goals I was off. Up, up, up, and walk. I made it over halfway up and I was really stoked with that. Flying Nun was just a few metres on and I decided to push the rest of the way to ensure I had enough legs left to enjoy that sweet, sweet track. And sweet it was.

The Bodybag - aptly named, impossible to photograph adequately

By the time I got home my legs were wasted and the next day they still hurt. Good. Worsleys is definitely going to become a regular ride for me. It's fun! (What's happened to me?)

18 months is too long to be away from Hanmer

2011-10-31T22:23:00.002+13:00

Luckily there is a silver lining to being away for so long and that is being blown away by the awesomeness of the trail development that has gone on in that time. Hubby and I were lucky enough to spend a couple of days there before Labour Weekend. Unfortunately when we arrived it was pouring with rain and trying very hard to snow. This meant I was slightly apprehensive about the state of the tracks the next morning when I headed out for a "quick ride".

Snowing hilltops from Red Rocks

I had all the intentions of just sifting along a couple of the easy tracks and then meeting up with my hubby in the afternoon to do some more. It turns out that my lack of self-control extends to not being able to stop riding when faced with such a brilliant array of singletrack goodness. The first thing I noticed as I zipped along Easy Rider was the profusion of excellent signage. And although this track was a little puddly in places, overall it was pretty dry considering the previous day's deluge.

Ahhh, the view from the top of the road is lovely

Soon I was crossing the road and heading up Mach 1. Last time I rode this track it was a nice little climb with some nice corners and lots of wee stumps in the ground. My how it has changed. The deadly little stumps are almost completely gone and the track has been extended massively. No longer do you pop out on the forestry road and have to slog up to dog stream. Now you cross over the road and continue on lovely forested singletrack right into the Larches Picnic area. Then you're on either Dog Stream (as I was) or for those who like a climb, heading up Joliffe Track.

Swamp Track has some lovely corners...

Having enjoyed Mach 1 so much I decided I wanted to ride Red Rocks and being a little on the unfit side (cough, cough, very unfit) I decide a gentle cruise up the forestry road was in order. Once a Red Rocks I had a gorgeous view of the snow blanketing the hills around me. The climb up Red Rocks knocked my lungs about a bit, as usual, but was so worth it for the fun, slightly slippery and a bit technical descent. I was grinning like a loon at the bottom and hungering for more single track.

.... and some amazing drainage. Seen in full action here.

Back on the road I saw a sign pointing to a track I'd never seen before, Western Link. Yay! Exploring new track for the first time is fun. This was a fairly fast, flowy, straight forward track through the trees which cut out the road and deposited me at the base of Timberlands (now a walking track, yay), Swamp Track and Swoop. I investigated Swoop for a bit, but as I suspected it would be better going the other way. Onto Swamp track and it was a fun, gentle climb with so great corners and amazing drainage. In fact water was pouring off the side of the hill and the track was perfectly dry. I stopped a couple of times to clear the drains and help some little puddles drain. I just want to say to the Hanmer Trail Pixies -- you guys rock!

My favourite Hanmer track

Swamp Track dumped me out near the top of Swoop and within sight of Yankee Zephyr. Ahh, Yankee Zephyr, too good to resist. Tank track has been logged so a nasty road climb followed and then I was on the wet forested part of YZ. It was gorgeous and then I was out on the hill side and speeding down the gully. Such sweet perfect corners, such fun, so much smiling.

A little bit of water in this stream on YZ

So I ended up riding almost everything instead of a little pootle. Luckily the amazing new hydrotherapy pool at the hot pools pummeled the pain out of my legs. A great trip to Hanmer and I cannot wait to go back.

Back in Christchurch I decided last week to attempt Worsley's for the first time. But that is a story for later, like tomorrow.

Racing? Sort of.

2011-10-19T08:13:00.000+13:00

On Sunday I did my first "race" in 18 months. It was the final of the CSC's Short Track series and it was so fun. Held on Siberia Flat on Kennedy's Bush it was 20 minutes of lung searing, leg smashing awesome and I was super stoked with how I went. And when I say how I went I don't mean where I got in the race (I was lapped by a child), but how my body felt during and after. This was the first time in aaaagggeesss that I really pushed my body as hard as I could and on the start line I didn't really know what would happen. In fact I was quite prepared to pull the pin if things felt bad. I certainly didn't want to send myself back to being bed ridden.
I had a great ride at Bottlelake with a mate on Saturday and that gave me the confidence to push during the race. Saturday was a great blast with lots of hard out sprints and then some skills practice on the skinnies. It seems that my loss of fitness has meant that I'm now riding inside my skillset so that I'm actually feeling more confident on the bike than ever before. I feel I have control over what my bike is doing now, rather than just being along for the ride some of the time. And that's how it was on Sunday at the race.
The singletrack flew by. Andre at Hub Cycles has recently tuned up my suspension and my bike was running like a dream. It was super responsive through the singletrack, flowed down the bumpy down hill (even when I was blasting brake-free) and pedalled great back up the hill. I was aiming for 3 laps in my 20 mins so was really happy to easily get 4. In fact I think I might have almost squeezed 5 in if I hadn't stopped to help a fallen rider at the start for a couple of minutes.
And now I'm off to Hanmer to ride sweet sweet singletrack for 3 days, weather permitting. I have to say, looking out at the storm that's raging right now, there may be a lot of sitting in hot pools and doing homework and less riding than I would like.

Under the stern face of Aoraki

2011-10-12T09:20:00.000+13:00

My husband and I were very spoilt to be shouted a weekend away at the Hermitage at Mt Cook this weekend. And boy was it a great weekend to be up there. We awoke on Saturday morning to snowflakes floating against the window. It looked gorgeous. Luckily after a stupidly large buffet breakfast and some lazing around our nice room the weather cleared completely and it turned into a glorious sunny day.

Not a bad view from the room

Hubby and I were going a separate ways as my dodgy knee and hip isn’t up to the sort of strenuous walk that he, and the rest of our group were planning on doing. For those who know Mt Cook they headed up to Sealy Tarns. I cunningly took my bike with me and after rugging up against the biting southerly breeze I headed off to the Tasman Valley.

The ride into the valley is ok, on a gravel road that wide enough to avoid the various tourist buses, camper vans and cars. I had the wind behind me and was enjoying the stunning scenery so it was a leisurely ride. Not long into it I had to stop and remove my coat and leg warmers as I was broiling alive.

A glorious day in the high country

Once I got to the car park where the walks start I veered off to the left and followed the unmaintained 4WD track the heads up the valley. This was a fun and challenging ride with lots of loose rocks between fist and head sized to negotiate on the ups and downs. I didn’t notice it on the way in, but you’re constantly climbing as you get deeper into the valley. It was so silent in the valley. I didn’t see anyone else the whole time I was in there and the only sounds were the occasional bee and the battle cries of the Skylarks. It was bliss.

As I got further up the valley the track merged with the river bed and I was in an avalanche zone, evidenced by the streak of thick snow and pointy boulders I had to push my bike over. It was a bit freaky looking up at the steep slopes on my left and wondering if something was going to come sliding down. Finally I couldn’t really follow the 4WD track anymore, it was just loose rocks and boulders everywhere with no clear path. I decided it was time to take a look at the glacier after coming all this way. I hoped I was close to the toe.

Icebergs a plenty

After a quick scramble up the little ridge that separated the valley from the glacier I was sitting on a huge boulder looking down on the glacier and listening to amazing sounds of it breaking up. It was pretty dodgy on the ridge, having been undercut by the glacier. I took some photos and as much as I wanted to stay and see ice break off I didn’t feel safe. The last thing I wanted when I was alone was to slide 100ms down into icy melt water. After a careful descent down the ridge I pushed on up the valley a little longer before giving up. I didn’t want to sprain an ankle or something equally silly while I was alone.

Slightly dodgy ridge

Heading back down the valley was an outstanding ride. Plenty of bunny hopping off rocks, loose turns and general rocky fun. It has taken me an hour and a bit to get up the valley from the car park, but it only took 10 minutes to get back and I was grinning like a mad woman. Unfortunately the ride back out to the Hermitage was horrible, with a cutting head wind and lots of dusty traffic. My legs were pretty grumpy about the whole thing too.

The ride back down the valley was fun

Mt Sefton at night

Then next day hubby and just did a little walk up to Kea Point to watch a few little avalanches and take photos of the freaky face I’d seen in Mt Cook when the snow cleared on Saturday morning. It was a little disconcerting having this stern visage watching over us the whole weekend. It was a scorcher on Sunday and I managed to get sunburnt before we piled in the car and headed home to more horrible earthquakes. I would definitely recommend a little ride up the Tasman Valley if you’re in Mt Cook. It’s not super technical, but the scenery is awe inspiring and the rocks make it challenging enough that you have to pay attention the whole time.

Can you see the face just below the front peak?

The smell of blue gum leaves under wheel…

2011-09-26T10:46:00.000+13:00

…. Is wonderful. Especially when that wheel is a little bmx wheel. I recently discovered that a lovely group of lads has built a pump track out the back of Pioneer Stadium. When I first heard about it I was a trifle apprehensive that it might be a bit full on for and to honest it is.

I took a spin around it this morning and the bumps are big and hard to pump on so there was a lot of pedalling going on. I’m sure for those more experienced in the art of pumping it’s great, but I found it really hard work. Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoyed it, but I certainly didn’t get my flow on today. However I’ve decided this is a good thing. You see this pump track is 5 minutes ride on my BMX from my house. So I have no excuse for not going there most days. In fact I could actually go to work via this pump track (well it’s a little in the opposite direction to work, but only 5 minutes so it doesn’t matter), and get a few laps in before the mindless drudgery.

That means that fact that I struggle with the track is a good thing. Lots of practice on it and hopefully I’ll become a better rider. I’m pretty sure I’ll become a much fitter rider. My legs currently feel like jelly!

Introducing the Duchess

2011-09-22T09:49:00.003+12:00

As I mentioned in my last post I sold my Jamis to fund the purchase of a commuter bike. As my health slowly started to improve I really wanted to ride places rather than being trapped in my car, but I wanted something comfy, something I felt relaxed on, something I could take shopping or cruising in the park and something I could wear a dress and heels while riding. And after much searching I found my dream commuter. The 3 speed Linus Dutchie. A HUGE thanks to the wonderful Dave at Velo Ideale (here in Christchurch). Go see him if you want a lovely utility bike!

She's soooo pretty.

She’s a beautiful creature with sleek, flowing lines, leather grips and a 3 speed internal geared hub. When I ride her I feel like a princess! Since I got her I’ve treated her to a few important upgrades. I was lucky enough to win a blogging competition with actual prize money so I was able to get myself a gorgeous Brooks saddle and a detachable wicker basket. I love both greatly. The saddle is so beautiful and so comfortable (despite the dire warnings I received about butt destroying doom) and the basket compliments the bike perfectly. I’ve been taking great pleasure in biking to Mediterranean Foods and picking up yummy treats and a bottle of wine and popping them all in my basket. Then a brief cycle through the disaster zone that is the ever-shrinking central city (well, not through so much as along the edge of) and I’m home with a smile on my face.

Panniers are classy on the outside.....

Biking to work is a joy every day. Although when you’re sitting upright on a bike any head wind is a slight challenge. There has only been one thing I’ve longed for. I’ve got some lovely touring panniers that I use for doing the grocery shopping, but they are big and bulky and I don’t like leaving things in them when I’m in a café or wandering the shops (the few we have left). So I’ve made myself a set of classy shoulder bag style panniers. They fit my laptop and double as a great handbag, unlike my basket which isn’t really ideal as a handbag.

....fun on the inside. Also with handy pockets.

Not bad as a bag.

Making these babies has been a mission and I would never ever recommend that anyone attempt to sew anything more complicated than a table cloth out of oil-skin fabric. Nightmare. Broken needles, bent pins and hours of frustration. The panniers look great, but I’m still not convinced that the effort was worth it. Well, I’ll see when I head to work.

The year that wasn't

2011-09-19T18:55:00.003+12:00

I'm almost embarrassed to post here again. It's been over a year! But I'm getting back into biking and for me writing and biking work beautifully together so it's time to start this baby back up. So what's happened in the time that's elapsed since my last post?

Well, no entry for the McLean's 6hr for a start. Not enough money to pay for race entries. And then just over a month after my last post.... EARTHQUAKE! A real one, not just a little rattle, a full on 7.1 shake that threw me out of the bed, knocked down a brick wall in our then back yard and destroyed a lot of property in Christchurch. At the time we all thought this was as bad as it got. We moved house, which was a little stressful as it was very difficult to get insurance.

I started a new job, started volunteering at the awesome charity Dog Watch and started renovating our new hovel. Then in December I got pleurisy, most likely due to the black mold living in our hovel, and all the rubbish I'd been inhaling during the renovation process. Cue a month in bed. Slowly but surely I started feeling better and then the now famous February earthquakes.

These were terrifying, life changing events and nothing has been the same since. We had now water for over a week, but we were very very lucky that our house, friends and family were all fine. Unfortunately the trauma of it all, the sadness at all the lives loss and the sense of upheaval caused by losing the heart of my city caused me to get even sicker. I developed Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. I couldn't ride my bike, I could barely walk up the stairs. All I could do was sleep for hours and hours. I'd get light headed, nauseous, breathless, forgetful and on the worst days I incoherent and couldn't even string a sentence together.

It was the most difficult, frustrating time I've even been through. First the earth betrayed me by jumping up and destroying my city, and then my body betrayed me and stopped working. From the 18th of December last year till sometime in June I couldn't do anything. Since June I've carefully be building up my fitness, doing more hours at work and finding myself again. While I was sick I had to give up a lot of things, all biking, my volunteer work, renovating, I had to drop one of my Diploma papers and I pretty much lost myself.

Now I'm coming back. And so's this blog. I've changed my priorities a bit. I've sold my beloved Jamis (insert tears here), to fund the purchase of an absolutely stunning commute bike (more later). I've ordered a Freeload rack with the plan of cycle touring around the South Island and I've realised that I need to slow down a bit.

Tragedy – unexpected breakages

2010-08-03T19:19:00.002+12:00

When I got the Anthem one of the first things I did was replace the seat, and not just with any old seat. With a beautiful colour co-ordinated and light Specialized Ariel. I loved this seat. It looked amazing and felt great to ride. Every time I got my bike out of the garage it would greet me and make me smile, inviting me to get on and ride and ride. Then I went for a little superman over my bars onto the road and split my chin open. I thought the damage was solely to my fast healing body, I was wrong. Riding into the bike shop to pick up new, bloodless gloves I noticed a pronounced lean to the right. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach, and hoped desperately that my wonderful seat was not stuffed. Alas, it was. Rails terribly bent.

The lovely mechanic at the Hub did his best to straighten them and the seat was rideable. My hopes soared and I headed up the hills for my planned 2.5 hrs. By the top of Rapaki I knew all was not well and had severe pain in places no one ever wants pain. By the time I made it home things were grim and I knew I had to get a new seat. Not good news given my destitute financial state.

There was only one thing for it. Time to sell my possessions! Used my gift for silliness I whipped up an ad for my spare couch and threw it on trademe. In no time I had hundreds of page views and loads of watchers. Unfortunately that didn’t turn into loads of bidders, but I got enough money to cover the cost of a new seat and some race entry fees. Yay.

The lovely Andrew at the Hub tracked me down a new seat (not as fabulous looking as my old seat) and had it ready for me to pick up in time for a ride on the dry tracks at the weekend. My butt (and other regions) were happy again and I spent a rather blusterous 3hrs riding up Kennedy’s (only got blown off three times), up Marleys, down Flying Nun (sketchy in the wind), up to the Traverse and across it (only blown off twice) and then for the first time up Mt Vernon. Mt Vernon was great, expect for the walkers who couldn’t hear me calling over the wind and then informed me that’d like to see me fall off cause that would be funny. I personally didn’t find this very amusing.

The wind took its toll on my and I headed down Rapaki, ruing the fact Old Bownevale wasn’t open and Rapaki was sooooo boring. Luckily I had the wind behind me and the way home and helped my tired legs over the Cashmere Downs. I was completely smashed and happy with it. I’m pretty stoked to be able to do long rides this early in the year. I’ll be sending my entry off to the McLeans 6hr this week. Yay!

Gratuitous self promotion all in the name of racing

2010-07-20T10:02:00.001+12:00

My dear generous loyal readers, you are looking gorgeous today. Have you lost weight? Have you been working out, you’re looking buff! You really nailed that last climb. I’ve always been good to you haven’t I? Entertained with embarrassing stories from my life. Well now I need your help. I’ve recently planned out my racing schedule for the rest of the year and it looks good, the only problem is money. You see I’m a poor student now and have zero disposable income (and next to zero non-disposable income), so to finance things like racing I have to be a bit creative. So I’ve entered a competition to win a shiny new phone worth a load of money. I made this extremely embarrassing video.

What I would like you all to do is to go to this website http://forum.vodafone.co.nz/topic/5436-sony-ericsson-xperia-x10-mini-pro-competition/, joined the Vodafone forum (I know this is a pain in the arse) and vote for my video (ahidingplace). I need all the help I can get by 5pm today. Please help me get to races this year!

Coming soon – buy my couch!

Adapting

2010-07-16T11:45:00.002+12:00

Initially Aspire has been all about adapting to less for me. Primarily less food, but also to having less energy for a while. I’m pleased to say that this phase of my diet is pretty much complete. I have adapted to having less food and my energy levels have returned to their pre-famine levels. I shouldn’t say famine, because it no longer feels like a famine, all the time, but it certainly did at the start.

To test out just how well my body is coping with the new food regime I decided to put it to the test last week, with a high volume of riding. Obviously I had to do quite a lot of riding and walking on Monday to complete my GE film and even though I was very silly and didn’t take anything at all with me except plain water, I survived that rather well. I had a nice hour of roadie spinning on Tuesday and on Wednesday I decided it was time for the big test. 3hrs on the bike with a muesli bar and a bottle of replace. In the good old days I would have taken a couple of muesli bars, a banana and some lollies with me and some sort of energy gel. I’ve realised that instead of relying on my body’s fitness to get me through long rides I was just eating and eating and eating so my body didn’t even have to try to burn up stored energy. Wednesday’s ride showed me that I don’t have to gorge myself to ride long and hard. It was a fairly full on ride, with a very slippery ascent up Kennedy’s which required a lot more walking than I would have liked because there was just no traction in the wet. Flying Nun was closed so I hoofed it round the road to the start of the Traverse and had fun flying along there. Then it was an icy blast down Rapaki and I headed into town to do an errand (my excuse for getting out for a ride). I felt great till I hit the flat road just after Rapaki. It felt like my legs had fallen off, but after a brief and slightly torturous visit to the Med Supermarket (the wood fired piaaz smells were just evil) I struggled home into the freezing southerly headwind. The last 5kms were pretty sucktastic, but as a test for adapting to less food I felt like my body passed with flying colours.

I had a couple of rest days and then on Saturday hit Kennedy’s with my hubby. Keen to show of my new climbing legs up the road I kept it in the middle ring and smashed my way up the first bit of climbing as fast as I could. Fool. I certainly crested the first rise faster than I ever had before, but I’d pretty much blown my legs doing it. I think it was probably the first time I’ve ever gotten there with my lovely hubby cruising just behind me rather than racing off ahead and circling back to see me so it was worth it. Unfortunately once we got to Kennedy’s track proper it was even wetter than earlier in the week with water flowing in streams across the 4wd tracks so our ride was cut short at the first water reservoir. We daintily negotiated our way back down the mud safely and decided to visit our section and do some skids. Unfortunately my propensity for doing incredibly stupid things on my bike got the better of me and I ended up marking our territory at the entrance of our new street by running my chin across the asphalt after gracefully flying over my bars.

Needless to say there hasn’t been any riding this week as I came away with 3 stitches and a mild concussion. Unfortunately I got rather excited after securing tickets to Metallica on Tuesday and jumped around the living room in celebration and have been blessed with a splitting headache ever since. So a week of perfect weather has been wasted. Sigh. Good news though. I have a new and even more insane goal on the horizon. The incredibly painful sounding Mini Brevet. 300kms, 5800m of vertical ascent in 36hrs around Banks Peninsula. This is going to take some serious training so I’m just putting together a plan at the moment. I’m also planning on doing both the McLeans and Timaru 6hr solos. With my weight loss going so well, I’m now 5kgs down, its time to kick my riding into a new gear. I know I can do it if I put the work in and I can manage to stop falling off my bike.

Mid winter creativity

2010-07-06T16:15:00.003+12:00

Hello my lovely readers! I am in a very cheerful moodas I have just finished creating my magnum opus, a short film about Ground Effect's wonderful clothes and just how many items from their catelogue I have. What inspired this burst of film making? Well one of the lovely Ground Effect employees got in touch with me and asked if they could us my stop motion of the jacket and pants packing themselves on their soon to be released youtube site. They also liked this very blog so in the future you may find some of my previous posts gracing the Ground Effect stalkbook page. If you haven't visit that page, go here and 'Like' them. I could waffle on further about the riding I've been doing and how Aspire is still going well, although I am a bit bored of it right now and would like some chocolate, but instead I'll just put my video up. Thanks Ground Effect for making Oarsum clothing that gets me out in all weather.

Winter isn’t stopping me!

2010-06-28T12:32:00.003+12:00

It is very easy not to ride during the wet, windy, cold winter days and it does become very difficult to ride any of my MTBs as the tracks are closed and muddy. However I’m not letting that stop me in my quest of skinnierness. I had my weekly weigh in this week and now I’ve lost 4.5kgs since I started Aspire and have dropped a dress size. Oh yes, that feels pretty damn good. Best of all my energy levels are getting higher and higher and I can now go for longer and longer rides without needing to eat. My endurance and stamina are back to pre-diet levels and I’ll be able to start working on speed soon. Even more exciting is the fact that my strength has improved out of sight. My upper body strength is better than it’s been in years, my core strength is really improving and my leg strength is right up there as I showed myself yesterday with some nice seated climbing. Fun.
I did almost give myself hypothermia riding for over 90mins in the drizzle and southerly yesterday, but it was still a good, if very painful at the end, ride. I felt strong and I didn’t feel lightheaded or ravenous at all. But it hasn’t been just about the bike for me for the last 7 weeks, I’ve been working out. A couple of years ago I got a gym membership. It was pretty good and I enjoyed it over winter, but I found it took the focus away from my riding. However what it did give me was knowledge of a number of free weights exercises I can easily do in the comfort of my own home. I’ve combined this with my elbow rehab exercises and I’ve got myself a nice little ten minute mini work out that I try do 3 times a day. It’s been going so well that I’ve had to get more weights to keep it challenging. Now I’ve got my strength back I can hit the yoga mat again so I’ve got a selection of nice 30 minute workouts I can chose from each morning. I try to do yoga most days and some days it not only gives me a great workout, it also sets me up for my day of writing. What more could you want, exercise and inspiration all in one go. Sounds like riding to me! I’ve got 4 more weeks of Aspire to go and I’m really excited about all the things I’ve learnt and how good I’m feeling. I give Aspire 2 thumbs up.

Quality time in the pain box

2010-06-21T11:23:00.004+12:00

I would like to begin this post by reminding my lovely readers of this other post that I wrote less than a month ago in which I detailed my failed attempt to ride 12kms. That’s right, less than a month ago I couldn’t do a lap of Bottlelake without collapsing. Keep that in mind as you read about my day yesterday, The Shortest Day.

As I said in my previous post I was doing this event for the challenge, that challenge being to see how far and how long I could ride for with no real training to speak of. On Saturday I took the advice of my Aspire dietician and had some extra servings of grain and I also added an extra serving of protein. I woke early on Sunday and had a bigish breakfast, not sure if the event was even going to be happening with all the rain that had fallen over night. Driving over to Sumner the sunrise was glorious and I arrived just in time to make a few notes on the points values of a few tracks and head off just after all the others. I made some quick calculations about what I thought I could achieve and decided to head to Bottlelake (10pts). It was a nice cruise in the morning sun and I arrived at the sandpit feeling pretty good. I sifted a lap and felt sorry for my poor drive train as there were some extremely muddy bits on the new sections of track. I made sure to keep my intensity under control and didn’t worry when I got passed. All these other riders were out for a Sunday lap of the forest, I had bigger fish to fry. Once I’d finished my lap I had 33kms under my belt and had been going for just over 2 hours. I had some delicious OSM (gah, I hate them) and got back on the road to head to McLean’s Island.

Not sure of exactly which roads were the best to take I followed my instincts and made pretty good choices. The rain came down for a while as I cruised along Prestons Rd and soon I reached Main North Rd. Having never been on Prestons Rd before it took me a couple of seconds to orient myself at the intersection, before turning left and heading down to Sawyers Arms Rd. I knew where I was now and headed for Johns Rd (after a brief stop sheltering under someone’s tree to eat more OSM). Soon I was on Johns Rd and my legs were telling me that they were not happy. I found heading out to McLean’s to be a rather painful and unpleasant experience and when I finally got there I headed straight for the tuck shop and grabbed an Ems Power Cookie Bar (om nom nom!). The guy in shop asked if I was doing “that crazy mountain bike marathon” and I said yes. Then he proceeded to tell me how fit and fast the other riders looked. I agreed with him, because all my fellow mad people were indeed skinny whippety sorts (even Slim!). I told him I was representing the overweight, unfit people of the world and he wished me luck. I stopped to have a decent feed of Powercookie Bar, banana, chilli and lime nut bar (OMG, Nice and Natural’s savoury nut bars are the shizzle) and handful of sour snakes before heading out on the big loop.

I had entertained thoughts during the week of bringing the roadie on this ride and swapping after McLeans, thank god I didn’t. The track was very wet and super muddy and the roadie would have just sunk in it. I cruised along, tucked nicely inside the pain box, riding in that brainless dream you sometimes get into. Many previous laps of this track mean that riding brainless was no problem and I was soon out in the dreaded new back section that I loathe. My legs was really telling me that they were not impressed with the treatment I was giving them and when I got back to the new overbridge I had a wee rest and consumed more snakes. 3kms to go back to the carpark and I grovelled back there, dreading the ride back into town.

I got back to the carpark and I’d done almost 75kms in 4hrs and my original plan for the day was fast going out the window. I had been planning on heading to Halswell from here, calling in at home for more drink and dry clothes and then going up Kennedys. As I lay in the bandstand at McLeans covered in mud I knew there was no way I was going to get up a hill now. I guessed it was 30ish kms back to Sumner and that felt like more than I was capable off. I rang hubby and told him I was going to take the most direct route back to Sumner I could and that I was planning on stopping off at C1 on the way for a decent fed and a long rest. I scoffed down half a Cookie Time cookie and got back on the road. I was very happy to note that heading away from McLeans was much easier and with the calls of monkeys and howls of African dogs ringing in my ears I headed to Harewood Rd.

At this point I was really feeling unable to go on. As I passed St James church on the outskirts of town I knew I had to lie down. I pulled into their driveway and saw to my great delight that they had a pew under the veranda of their community centre. Yes! As I lay on that pew with my feet up my mind was completely empty. Even the pain receded as I relaxed. It was bliss. After 10 minutes I felt rejuvenated and got back on my bike and headed into town.

The ride into the centre of town seemed to fly by. I think it was the thought of hot foot and a hot chocolate. Soon I was attaching my bike to the bike stands outside C1 with my helmet and perusing their food cabinet. I’d been dreaming about macaroni cheese on my ride into town, but I was thwarted and settled for beef rogan josh with ginger rice, which was even better than mac cheese. I felt a bit guilty as I slipped my mud covered self in the movie stall seat by the window so I could watch over my not very securely locked bike. The food was heaven, the warmth was heaven, the hot chocolate was heaven and watching all the trendily dressed hipsters stare at the muddy creature by the window was very amusing.

As I sat in the warmth looking at pictures in magazines (I couldn’t read words because I’d lost my brain, even ordering food had been an effort of mammoth proportions) my feet thawed out and the circulation returned and I knew I had just the right amount of time to get back to Sumner for the 4:59pm cutoff. I called into the Mobil on Madras St to grab some sports water as I’d run out of fluids and some Panadol extra to stave off my impending migraine. As I left the shop a nice fella came up to me and asked how my ride was. I said it was pretty good and he asked how far I’d been and when I replied that I’d end up doing over 100kms he was gobsmacked. The look on his face was priceless and it was actually hard to leave because he wanted to ask me loads of questions and he kept wishing me luck. I do rather enjoy smashing people’s preconceptions of someone my size.

The grovel back to Sumner was just a mist of pain. At one point Dean Hamilton came barrelling past me with a horribly cheerful wahoo! which urged a little more speed out of the weird white pudding-like substance that was masquerading as my legs. The esplanade in Sumner seemed to stretch on forever and then I was finally at the clock tower. 106kms under my belt with 6hrs 24mins of riding. Sure I hadn’t got anywhere near the hills like all the other loonies doing this ride, but I had achieved more than I thought I could. I had underestimated the distances involved in traversing the city, which was probably a good thing or I might not have even gone out at all, but I had learnt that I have more mental and physical toughness than I knew. I feel like with training I can achieve even more. Being in the painbox for 3.5hrs, with no training, was a great experience. Now I just need to find where I left my brain.

Oh my god, what have I done?

2010-06-18T10:33:00.001+12:00

The last time I had one of these moments was back in late March 2008 when I couldn’t stop thinking about going to Wellington for the Super Double-D Cup event. It was so far out of my comfort zone and I was terrified. But it turned out to be one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I had an amazing time, met amazing people who I’ve become good friends with and it completely changed my outlook on riding. I learned to enjoy the thrill of risk and my riding has improved out of sight since then.

Well I’m having another of these moments. I’ve signed on to take part in the Shortest Day, an informal event run by a local madman. Basically in entails riding from 8:03am on Sunday morning till 5pm on Sunday evening, leaving from and returning to Sumner and covering as many tracks from a list to be revealed on the morning as possible in that time. All of those taking part in this event are the super fit cool kids of Christchurch mountain biking....... and me. Eeeeeep!

Why am I doing this, particularly when I’m not at my fastest, strongest or enduringest? Well, it seems like fun, it is a challenge, it’s not a race, and I reckon if I just go at my own pace I’ll cover plenty of ground and have fun. Most importantly, over the last few years I’ve learnt that when I get outside my comfort zone I have the BEST times. These informal events that are about the camaraderie of MTBing are the best in my opinion. No matter how fit you are, you’re all out doing the same thing to the best of your abilities. Sure, I’ll be lucky to cover half the ground of all the other whippets, but I’ll have fun doing it (I hope).

And Now an Amusing Aside: Flasher!!!
With this lovely sunny weather we’ve been experiencing in Christchurch this week I’ve been getting around on my bike more. Yay! Yesterday I headed into town to have lunch with a lovely friend and to get a nice roadie ride under my belt. So that I wouldn’t feel quite so special in town I took a skirt to throw on over my lycra. Lunch was fantastic and after walking around for a bit I headed back to my bike to finish my roadie with a jaunt along the base of the hills and over the Cashmere Downs. Being lazy and without much shame I couldn’t be bothered heading back into the cafe just to remove my skirt when I would be walking and riding around in what I was wearing underneath it. So standing by my bike outside the fantastic C1 cafe with patrons enjoying their smokes in the alfresco dining area I quickly whipped my skirt down to my ankles and stood up. As I straightened I heard a strange staticy crackling behind me and turn to see two police officers directly behind me, studiously avoiding meeting my gaze. Oooops, I just flashed a couple of the country’s finest. (Well not really, no extra skin was exposed during this manoeuvre.) I wonder what was going through their heads as I pulled my skirt down, but before they saw my bike shorts? I’m still giggling about it today. So here’s my tip to cheer yourself up on a gloomy winter’s day, undress in front of a cop!

What a difference a week makes!

2010-06-14T16:12:00.000+12:00

My last post didn’t talk much about week 4 of Aspire and that was because I was feeling completely down about the whole thing when I wrote it. Luckily my lack of weight loss didn’t make me want to throw in the towel, it just made me want to try harder. For me last week was all about getting out on my bike in the sun. Yep, there were multiple sunny days last week and I put them to good use with a lovely roadie ride out to Tai Tap, a wee jaunt up Kennedy’s Bush Rd in middle chain ring and some absolutely fantastic Nun repeats.

It was a pretty busy week, being a short one and I was determined to eat properly and focus on how my body reacted to higher intensity exercise now that I wasn’t feeling so hungry all the time. My roadie ride was great. I focussed on keeping a nice high cadence the whole ride and after an hour I got home feeling good and strong. I wasn’t ravenous either, but I certainly enjoyed my poached eggs that day. The next day I headed up Kennedy’s Bush Rd to see if I still had the stamina to get up the road in my middle chain ring. I won’t lie, I had to rest at the crest of the first hill as I was panting like a dog, but I was soon on my way and made to the gate at the top of the seal without dropping into grannies. Yes! My stamina is slowly coming back as my body adapts to getting less fuel in. Unfortunately I had pretty much stuffed myself for much more riding and after attacking the first section of 4wd track and discovering that the next section was not only incredibly muddy, but exposed to the nasty wind, I decided to head home for some food.

Saturday was the CSC’s end of year function and I was flat out all day. I was helping Roscoe prepare a gift for Craig and Rebekah and had to get up early to get last minute supplies. As I was driving back from town in the sun I decided that the weather was too good to waste and I would have to head out for laps of the Nun since it might not be open again for weeks. This was the right decision. The track was in perfect condition. No standing water, pretty dry, but just tacky enough to provide fantastic traction and running so smooth it was heaven. I only had an hour to get up there ride and get home before heading to the hall to help set up and I managed to get 2 runs in. I so wanted to do more, but it was not to be. The rest of the day and the evening flew by in a blur, although I did managed to completely resist the lure of Spag’s pizza’s and have a healthy dinner that night.

My busy week has paid dividends and I’ve now lost another whole kg since my last weigh in last Tuesday bringing my total for 6 weeks to 3.5kgs. I’m very happy with that, but I’m happier with the progress my fitness is making. The mini-work outs I’ve been doing at home are starting to benefit my riding with my upper body strength finally coming back and my core strength increasing. I’m looking forward to this week and getting out riding more. I feel like I’ve got over the hump now and the next 6 weeks of Aspire are going to be great.

Exploring strange new worlds

2010-06-08T11:52:00.005+12:00

Finally I got to do some real mountain biking this weekend past! My lovely husband and I made a last minute decision to head over to the West Coast for Queen’s Birthday weekend and managed to score some lovely accommodation at Havenz, where we stayed last time we were there, in Punakaiki. I was very excited to head up to Denniston Plateau for some exploring as I’d read great things about the trails in both my trusty Kennett bible and NZMTBR. We drove over on Saturday and had a leisurely trip with a few stop offs and then chillaxed in our tree top accommodation and listened to the birds in the forest all around us.

Sunday was warm and humid, but overcast so we packed for wet wintery conditions and headed north. After a brief stop in Westport for nourishment and a map of the tracks at Denniston from the information centre there (only $1) we were soon winding our way up the hill to the old coal mining area. After exploring the old Incline where the coal was sent down off the plateau and hucking off various things we headed further up the hill the Friends of the Hill museum, where all the tracks started. We’d decided on the 11km cross country circuit and headed out into the desolate landscape. There was a definite chill in the air and the snow on the side of the 4wd tracks was evidence that we up in an alpine environment. It was gorgeous and barren and even riding the metalled road was a pleasure as the views on all sides were spectacular. The Southern Alps surrounded us on one side and on the other the coast and Tasman Sea stretched for miles.

Soon the road deteriorated into a very rough 4wd track and started with a very steep pinch climb. I was pretty impressed that I almost made it to the top of the pinch, give how weak I’ve been feeling lately, but it really knocked the wind out of me. We continued heading up and the track soon became a boggy river in places and there was a bit of walking. The track was mostly slab rock as we got higher which meant a lot of it was rideable as long as you picked the right line.

I really enjoyed the challenge of riding this terrain. I’ve never been confident about riding up rocks, but I found that I was taking on things I probably would have walked in the past and riding really well. I think all the playing in the back garden with my bmx has helped me get my head around lifting my front wheel to get over things. The final uphill section consisted of a rocky chute with gnarly roots running cross it and a nice stream trickling down in. It was almost like a series of little steps and I was grinning when I got to the top.

From there the fun really started. The descent was really rocky so not much mud to suck at wheels. I was loving choosing different lines down ledges and blasting across slabs. Soon we came to a steep rocky chute and after stopping to scope it out I could see a nice smooth line that I felt confident about riding. Hubby walked down and grumpily told me he wasn’t going to watch me crash, but I knew my line was good and I just had to carry enough speed into it. Whoooooosh and I was safely down cackling like a mad woman. It was great and was the first scary chute I’ve ever ridden, also the first thing I’ve ever ridden that my hubby hasn’t!

This success filled me with confidence and when we came to the next rocky chute I could again see a nice line, but wasn’t comfortable with the run in on the Anthem, so sensibly walked it. Unfortunately on the third rocky chute I wasn’t so sensible and didn’t even stop to scope it. I did however slow down way too much and as I entered the chute I thought “If I hit that big rock there I’ll endo” so of course I hit that rock and went straight over the bars. I was worried that hubby might be nearby so I cheerfully yelled out “Bugger!” in a tone that said “That looked way worse than it was, don’t worry I’m fine”. Meanwhile what I was thinking was “Oh shit, that hurt my hip really badly, but at least my bung elbow, shoulder, chest, doesn’t seem too bad, shit I’ve got gorse in my gloves and down my back, oh I’m stuck upside down, oooh my finger is a bit cut, thank god I’m wearing gloves, thank god I have extra padding round my hips, damn its difficult getting up when you feet are higher than your head.”

After this barrage of thoughts I realised that hubby wasn’t nearby because there was no yelling to see if I was alright so I gingerly felt my various parts for damage and slowly extracted myself from amongst the rocks and gorse. I’ve never crashed anywhere so jagged before and was feeling pretty lucky to be limping down the hill intact. My rear brake had been filled with dirt unfortunately and was making a hell of a noise and I was too scared to look at my hip while we were still in the middle of nowhere. Hubby was waiting at the bottom of the final and gnarliest rock chute which I walked down with a sheepish look on my face. I informed hubby of my overconfident muppetry and he sighed and we headed back to the car. The heavens opened up and it bucketed down and I sent hubby off ahead to bring the car up the museum. When I got there looking like a drowned rat the coal fire was burning away nicely and I stood in front of it and steamed till the car arrived with dry clothes. That fire was fantastic. I haven’t been near a coal fire since I was a child and I’d forgotten just how lovely the heat is from good quality coal (how un-PC of me!).

Finally I dragged myself away from the fire and got changed into dry clothes before reinstalling myself in front of the fire again. It was great watching the old films of the mines and hearing the stories, some of them terrible, of life on the plateau.
On our way out we stopped at an old abandoned playground which spoke volumes about how life had moved on. I took some photos and then a very scary man came and yelled at us so we left, feeling like we could hear banjos ringing in our ears.

Once back at our unit I perused the damage to my hip and was slightly horrified to see the bruise which is still spreading. Ouch!

Our trip home over Arthur’s Pass the next day was well timed, the weather was closing in quickly and our car kindly informed us that it was 3 degrees outside with a cheery ding. We stopped to play with the keas at Deadman’s Corner above the Otira Viaduct and they were most interested in eating various parts of our bikes. Luckily we managed to keep them safe from marauding beaks and claws.

The trip was wonderful and although I haven’t managed to lose any weight again this week (WTF!) I am happy to be riding my bikes again. I also look forward to a return trip to Denniston to explore more of the 50kms of tracks, and to planning my next cycle tour. I seem to be falling in love with the West Coast.

Ideas formed in Childhood aren't always correct!

2010-06-02T14:35:00.004+12:00

I know, I know. This seems to shocking to be true, but indeed it is true. In this case I am talking about the thoroughly incorrect impression I have long held about both Lentils and Beans. Both these impressions were formed by popular culture, in one case, brilliant English comedy and in another a kiwi icon.

Fallacy 1: Lentils
My first contact with lentils came in my formative years during the 80’s when I was lucky enough to watch The Young Ones. This programme became a firm favourite and repeated watchings through my teens and early twenties reinforced the stereotype I had formed about lentils. They were a disgusting, flavourless goop, favoured by hippies and not fit to be consumed by normal humans. Despite the fact that I, like Neil, studied Philosophy at uni, and that I had certain hippyish leanings, lentils were a bridge too far and I steered well clear of them. After all, I was a good kiwi lass, brought up on a diet of huge chunks of meat roasted in its own fat (and some added fat for good luck) and vegetables that were boiled to within an inch of their lives.

Important aside so I am not disowned by my mother. Times have changed in both my maternal and fraternal home such travesties of cooking are a thing of bygone years. Although on my return to NZ from the UK I was greeted with the most disgusting of dishes from my mother, mashed swede! Bleurgh!

I, for some reason, believed that lentils were the sole domain of vegetarians and being a proud omnivore I stayed well away from them. In fact it wasn’t till I was living in the UK that I was introduced to the wonder that is lentil curry by a generous neighbour. This put paid to all of my false ideas about lentils, but they still didn’t feature highly in my diet in anything other than curry form.

Aspire has changed all that! I have discovered that not only are lentils delicious in a variety of forms, but they are also filling, full of protein and versatile. Yay lentils, and your delicious brethren chick peas. You make things yummy and fill me up.

Fallacy 2 – Beans
Now here, I’m not talking about green beans, string beans, runner beans or anything from the garden, although broad beans are disgusting and the work of satan sent to torture children and adults alike. No, I’m talking about tinned beans, and the beans you find dried. My first association with tinned beans was, of course, Watties Baked Beans. My response to my first association with Watties Baked Bean was to spit to contents of my mouth back onto my plate and push my beans away from me. Yuck. I know I’m courting controversy here, but Baked Beans, and I mean ALL baked beans, are DISGUSTING. They give all beans a bad name. As do those rather disturbing tins of bean salad. Honestly, do the people who make these things think that beans are improved by adding a clear viscous coating that suspends the beans and tastes like salty snot? They are not. In fact they are made so hideous that for my entire life, till 3 weeks ago, I steered clear of beans as much as I possibly could. I would begrudgingly eat kidney beans in chilli and Mexican food, but I never thought “Om, nom, nom, these beans are delicious!” What I mainly thought was “Phew, these beans are tolerable, I don’t have to look like a picky bitch by not eating them.”

All that has changed with Aspire, I’ve discovered new and delicious varieties of beans. I discovered that like their lentil cousins, they are yummy, and versatile. I would eat them on a boat, I would eat them in a coat, I would eat them in a tree, I would eat them when at sea. You get the point. So just like that, 35 years of wrong-headedness is corrected.

Now my cupboards are full of beans and my house is developing a slightly sulphurous odour. Unfortunately, not all of my ideas about beans were wrong, that great old childhood song about beans is definitely true, especially if you haven’t had much in the way of legumes in your diet before.
“Beans, beans, the musical fruit
The more you eat, the more you toot!”

Tweaking and Timing

2010-05-31T10:05:00.001+12:00

Week three of Aspire is done and dusted and after consulting the dietician I have made some changes to get my wildly swinging blood sugar levels under control. The good news is I’ve been feeling much, much better. The bad news is I’ve put on a massive 100gms! Actually I’m not even slightly worried that I haven’t lost any weight over the last week. Now that I can actually do some proper exercise I’m sure that will soon sort itself out. I hear you ask: what are these amazing changes you have made?

Tweaking Portions
I’ve had quite a few comments from people that I seemed to be eating quite a lot of grain portions. So I talked to the dietician about that and we agree that I’d move down to 5 portions of grain and have an portion of protein OR legume a day. This has been great. I’ve been getting protein in the middle of day now and I’ve been feeling much better for it.

Timing Portions
This has actually been the most important change. I’m still eating only 20 portions in total a day, but I’m making sure I eat certain things at certain times to make sure my blood sugar doesn’t start doing the crazy dance that leaves me lying on the couch feeling like passing out. The first thing was when I was eating my grains. I’m now having 2 for breakfast and 2 for lunch, meaning I only have one at dinner, much better. Also I’ve split lunch into two meals, one at 12 and on at 2, meaning although I’m eating the same amount, it’s released into my body at a more consistent rate, meaning no big highs and lows.

I’ve also realised I have to eat between breakfast and lunch. I was letting myself get super hungry and weak by not eating anything for 4 hours and that was setting me up badly for the whole day. Now I have a portion of legumes at 10:30ish and that helps even things out and means I’m not as starving at 12 so only eating half a lunch is fine then.

What a change a week has made. I’ve been on a couple of hour long roadie rides during the week, in the rain and hail (I love my Helter Skelters) and yesterday I took the singlespeed to McLeans. It was wet and hard going, but I still felt human at the end of it and had a big grin on my face. Today it’s not raining and I think I might just have to take a jaunt to Sumner on the roadie and see how this new eating plan holds up to a longer ride. I will be taking Replace and a snack with me! Now I just need this crappy weather to go away for a decent amount of time and I can get back to having fun on my bikes.

How to catch and release a mouse

2010-05-25T10:31:00.009+12:00

A Tribute to Allie Brosh, genius behind Hyperbole and a half - go there!

WARNING: This blog post contains no traces of cycling or even dieting, but with winter here I thought those of you who don’t like squishing any little mice who venture into your warm house would find this informative.

The last couple of nights hubby and I have watched a rather cute little mouse race around the skirting boards of the lounge and scale the curtains like a little Sir Ed. Many of you will no doubt be grossed out by that, but both hubby and I thought he was very cute. Unfortunately your average mouse is not toilet trained and neither of us is particularly fond of the prospect of mouse poop everywhere, so with a heavy heart I set up the traps.
However our mousey friend didn’t seem interested in being flattened so when it started zooming around the room last night we decided to try and employ a catch and release technique which had proved most successful last year when we had a mouse in the kitchen.

Step 1
You’ll need three things to successfully capture your speedy little rodent. One of you, in this case me, will need to be wearing a long sleeved top with sleeves that can be stretched and will be the trapper. The other of you will need a torch and long arms, in this case my lovely hubby and will be the frightener. Finally you’ll need an object that you can chase the mouse behind and only has two points of exit, in this case a piano. (In a kitchen I recommend an oven or refrigerator).

Step 2
Spend many amusing minutes chasing the mouse around until you can get it behind the object you have chosen.

Step 3
Deploy the frightener to one exit and the trapper to the other. The trapper should place their hand flat on the floor palm up at the exit point to act as a little mouse ramp and with the other hand lift their sleeve to ensure the mouse only has one place to go.

Step 4
The frightener should then start making lots of noise at the other exit, poking things towards the mouse and bashing the floor till the mouse decides to take the lesser of two evils and head up the dark tunnel you have created at the other exit. IMPORTANT!! The trapper needs to stay very very still during this process, if you get a fright and squeal and withdraw your arm as the mouse approaches you will fail and may have to resort to killing it, which seems very unfair.

Step 5
Hold your sleeve closed with the hand the acted as a ramp for the mouse and with your other hand grab your sleeve further up your arm to prevent the mouse from making a break towards your neck.

Step 6
Go outside and find a suitable place, preferably away from your house, to release the hand that is holding the sleeve closed. How far you get will depend upon how you feel about having a warm furry thing scampering about on your forearm. When you open your sleeve the mouse will immediately leap forth and be returned to nature none the worse for wear and you will be happy in the knowledge you haven’t murdered an innocent creature who just wanted some warmth.

Diet and Exercise – Ur doin it rong!

2010-05-24T16:41:00.001+12:00

Turns out I’m not very sensible when it comes to this dieting thing, and in the last week I’ve paid the price for my silliness. I made two key mistakes and I’m going to tell you about them so you don’t make them if you ever decide to go on a diet. Not that I’m saying you need to, you look great in those pants!

Mistake 1 – Not eating all my portions
I’m sure you’ve all heard the saying “too much of a good thing”, well that applies to dieting as well. When you’re on a diet that says “Hey fatty, you get to have 6 portions of grain/starchy veges, 3 portions of fruit, 3 portions of vege, 3 portions of dairy, 3 portions of fat, 1 portion of protein and 1 portion of legumes, chow down!” you should indeed chow down. It will NOT help your diet if you go for a whole week eating less than 17 portions in total when you have 20. It will not help your diet if you think “Hmmmm, I’m not soo hungry today, I’ll just miss a few portions, that’ll make me lose weight faster. Muwhahahahahaha!” Actually all either of these things will do is make you feel terrible, you will have no energy, you will get incredibly hungry and you will not be capable of doing the easiest of exercise. You will also become an irrational and grumpy cow who is a threat to the health of friends and loved ones. Ok, you might lose a bit of extra weight, but it’ll come back with mates if you keep under eating. Now I am being very careful to eat everything I’m allowed to and I’m starting to feel better and as a bonus my husband doesn’t look like he’s going to divorce me.

Mistake 2 – Doing high intensity exercise after making mistake number 1
Ok, I really am a doffus. I actually know I shouldn’t be hammering myself too hard when I’m on a diet, but my passion for cycling saw me doing a full on sprint into town on my roadie and then smashing the Cashmere Downs on the way home. I felt like falling off my bike at the top of the last pinch on the Downs, my head was going round and round and round. Then for the next two days I couldn’t move from lack of energy. Consistent exercise fail. And because a constant lack of food makes my brain not work too good, I made a very similar mistake yesterday when I took my singlespeed to Bottlelake. I started writing a sentence that started “In my defence...” and then I realised I had nothing to finish it with. I wanted to ride at Bottlelake and I didn’t want to ride the Anthem there, so that meant the power of one for me. Of course not having any gears meant I couldn’t regulate my intensity towards the lower end of the scale and in no time I was bonking like one of those little robots that scoots across the floor and then fails to turn round once it hits a wall. Bonk, bonk, bonk. I barely made it back to the car park and was unsure of whether I would be safe to drive home. Luckily I found my hubby’s secret stash of peppermints in the door sill and scoffed one down. Unfortunately I was a little delirious because of my non-existent blood sugar and keep laughing to myself as I imagined I was in the scene from Black Books where Manny, in a fit of absinthe induced delirium, eats Bernard’s bees. My hubby was a bit confused when I got home and apologised to him for eating all his bees. Rest assured, once I’d eaten some lunch I was almost coherent again and had learnt an important lesson. Long leisurely rides good. Hard fast rides bad. Poor singlespeed, it will be locked away for the next few months. Sad.

So this week I’ve resolved to be more sensible. Easy rides only and eating all my portions. Last week I managed to lose another 500gms bringing my two week total to 3kgs so I’m really happy with that. I’ll be happy if I can continue to lose 500gms a week for the next ten weeks.

I'm Aspiring

2010-05-17T15:31:00.002+12:00

Once upon a time, about 2 years ago, a young woman started a blog. This blog was about her quest to get fit and lose weight and it was this blog. Over the course of two and a bit years her fitness has improved and improved and her weight has gone down a bit and then up a bit. In fact when I weighed myself last Monday I weighed more than when I started this journey. Bugger. So over the next three months while I’m not full on training for anything I’m taking this dieting thing seriously. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt over the past couple of years it’s that even though I eat extremely healthily and exercise a lot that’s not enough for me to lose weight. I’m obviously doing something wrong so I’ve paid my money and joined up with the Plant & Food/ Uni of Otago created diet called Aspire.
Already I’m learning a lot and have discovered that I eat waaaaay too much. I’ve been on it for a week and luckily it’s been pretty easy for me. This first week came with a sample menu, which was just what I needed, something to tell me what to eat. I stuck to it really well, and made some substitutions where things weren’t working and made sure I stayed within my allotted portions for the week. The biggest change, apart from portion size, has been eating legumes every day. Yum! As the last post pointed out, I’ve been laid low by the dreaded lurgee and haven’t really been able to move off the couch much, let alone exercise so there’s not been much going into my activity diary. So imagine my surprise when I got on the scales this morning for my weekly weigh in and discovered I’ve lost 2.5kgs in the last week! Yusss! My power to weight ratio is going to be looking better by the end of winter.

I also managed to get out on the roadie today to return some DVDs. It was raining. It was windy. There was loads of traffic. I still loved it! It’s been two whole weeks since I’ve been on the bike and it felt great to be riding again. It made me rather light headed, which probably means I’m still fighting germs, but I still ended up singing “The legs on the Mel go round and round, round and round, round and round” because I was feeling so happy. Unfortunately I did manage to get quite cold and created some yucky chilblains on my legs when I jumped in my hot shower. So Week 2 on Aspire has started and we’ll see how I handle riding and dieting. Wish me luck!

Who dun it?

2010-05-11T20:32:00.003+12:00

One of the benefits of being a reclusive writer is the lack of contact with people infected with hideous illnesses who refuse to stay at home and get well, but instead choose to infect those around them. Unfortunately this is mitigated by being an avid mountainbiker and helper outer at races. I know that racing my lungs out at the Singletrack Fiesta seriously compromised my immune system, paving the way for this lovely chest infection I now have. But what I want to know is, who gave me these horrible germs?

I have a number of suspects. Top of my list are the two nefarious banditoes from the Singlespeed race. Either one of them could have been out for revenge after I forced them to eat extra delicious nachos (and thereby comply with the rules). My second guess would be one of the many germ infested children running around. Everyone knows that children are made of germs and are disgusting.

Perhaps it was this dodgy looking specimen. He obviously has some sort of horrible disease, that’s why he’s wearing a Hazmat suit.

My final suspect is Death. Although I didn’t actually come into physical contact with Death, being in his presence may have been enough to see me afflicted with this terrible illness.

Needless to say I’ve spent the last week with fevers, aches, globs of green being expelled from my lungs and a throat that someone has been putting razorblades into every night. This has meant no riding, and actually very little walking or anything involving being off the couch for long. I’ve missed the first night race of the season and will also be missing the second one tomorrow night. I’ll also be missing the MTB Orienteering that’s going on at McLean’s Island on Sunday. Stink. Still I’ve had plenty of time to plan my winter training so it wasn’t a total loss. Also all the resting has really helped my chest/shoulders and elbow heal and I’m feeling way better about those owies. I’m dying to get on my bike and hope for a couple of gentle roadie rides at the weekend. If not I will have to use my voodoo powers to discover the evil perpetrator of my illness and cast a pox upon them. Or not, I just don’t have the energy at the moment.

What’s more fun than racing?

2010-05-04T21:13:00.001+12:00

The Christchurch Singletrack Club had its club champs on Saturday and it was a fantastic Mexican singletrack fiesta with a race for everyone. Not only was I racing, but I was also helping with setting up, timing, and running other races. The weather forecast was ominous so I was glad to be attired in a nice heavy poncho and warm cowboy hat. Unfortunately my moustache was horribly uncomfortable and kept falling off. Stupid thing. Luckily the day dawned beautifully and we managed to get everything set up in the morning sun. Soon the whippets were arriving, cheesey moustaches, both real and stuck or drawn on, fluro ponchos and other Mexican paraphernalia arrayed about their persons. It was most amusing. I was doing the computer timing for the expert (Rapido) race and having never done it before I was feeling slightly nervous. Luckily it was easy and fun and I loved every second. I was particularly enjoying watching one the battle between Slim and JD, but unfortunately I had to leave my post before all the racers finished as I was racing in the next race and needed to get the circulation going in my legs again after sitting in the chilly southerly wind for over an hour.

Riding down Zane’s was great fun, but I was feeling very apprehensive about climbing up the 4wd and the Pines 3 times. I’ve never yet managed to ride all the way to the top without stopping and I’ve only ever managed to ride 2 laps of the course. This was going to hurt a lot. All too soon we were off and I spun up the 4wd track as well as I could. My lungs felt pretty rough by halfway up the 4wd drive track and I was fully in survival mode right from the start. I kept going and really loved the new Pines extension and the fabulous “never-ending berm”. Then it was back to the climbing. My legs felt pretty good and up I went, winding through the switchbacks and getting my heart rate under control on the flatter sections. Soon I was at Rhymes with Orange and being roundly heckled for my feeble pace. Oh well, that’s one of the draw backs of being a mouthy heckler and a popular and well loved blogger. Up into Goodie Gum Drops for the first time ever and it was a fun little bit of track and finally I was heading down hill.

Back through Zanes and I was loving this bit of track. I knew I was catching the guy in front of me and stretching a gap to those behind me, but I knew I’d need it because just like at Hanmer my back was spasming. Back onto the 4wd track and there was no way I could put the power down I needed and I stopped for a second and tried to loosen my back up. I trudged up the 4wd track with my bike feeling pretty shit, but then rode all the singletrack of the Pines, although I needed a few breathers along the way. I was glad the hecklers had moved on, I was not in the zone at all and probably wouldn’t have handled it very well. I got great support going across the finish line, but I felt like fraud. Down Zanes again and I actually wasn’t loving it, the thought of the last climb was making me feel sick. I hit the last climb and hit the wall. I’d only eaten a muesli bar in the previous 3 hours and I bonked big time struggling to push the bike up the hill.
My legs felt like spaghetti and the marshals had even left. I wanted to pull the pin, but the idea of DNF was completely hideous. I had to walk up a couple of the higher switchbacks as downhillers bombed down beside me. I struggled on and was determined to not look like death on wheels when I popped out of the trees. Up Goodie Gum Drops for the last time and reaching the top was a huge relief. I was so glad the climbing was over I did a couple of hucks on the descent, and hammed it up over the line. Then I collapsed at my car and drank 500mls of replace.

I felt like crap, but I got changed into my lovely poncho again and scoffed my free pie and felt like a new person. Then it was time for the singlespeed race, where I had to help with the “activities” the riders needed to complete between laps. The costumes on display in this race were fantastic, and watching the crazies dash up a hill to find a plant pot, then run down, put it on the end of a 3m pole and spin round with it on their heads was so funny that my mood was transformed. Then I proceeded to the table of Tabasco and helped the lovely Sarah set up the plates of nachos and beans, which the riders would have to eat ALL of sans hands before proceeding. The first two riders arrived, Dayle on his sexy new ti Singular Pegasus. I feel very privileged to have been allowed to stroke such a divine creature, and Nick Bushlove close behind.

Unfortunately these two finely tuned athletes were not very good at following instructions and after a rather token effort the need for the race saw them leaving with their plates still full of food. Not good. Not long after Ollie arrived and with great encouragement from his lovely mother, who obviously raised him right to finish all his food, Ollie got the whole lot down. More racers rolled in, including young Anton on his insane 10” kids bike, and cleaned their plates amidst much complaining and much laughter from those of us in the vicinity. After some serious conferring amongst the race officials it was decided that the two leading banditoes had managed to save a significant amount of time with their wiley ways and they would have to be punished. So it was with a heavy heart I was sent to stop them before the end and ensure they eat their nachos. The controversy was great and the outrage was evident, especially when Ollie sailed past Dayle and Nick as they wolfed down their nachos. Nick took off like a man possessed to reel Ollie back in and almost had him on the line, but Ollie’s skinsuit gave him that tiny edge over the fluro poncho and he maintained a slim lead over the line.

There followed an epic prizegiving where I actually got a prize for getting 2nd in my age group for my race! OMG! I also scored a lovely box of Barkers jams and chutneys. Om nom nom. It was a great day and for me the best part was being involved in running the day. It was great being part of such a fun community and providing an event that had something for everyone. I missed it, but there was even a fantastic children’s race which saw loads of kids having a great time and giving it their all. Although I’m not sure whether the presence of death in their midst was fun for them or not.

Thanks heaps to Rebekah and Craig and the CSC, and to my lovely supporters. Now I’ve been laid low with a flu and ideas of racing the night racing series are drifting away and I’m considering just hitting the roadie and training for some mid-winter madness which I’m really not qualified to take part in.

Hanmer delivers a new love affair

2010-04-29T11:12:00.002+12:00

Four days in Hanmer riding bikes and talking bollocks over good wine, what a way to start the week. Hubby and I and a couple of mates headed up to Hanmer Springs on Sunday afternoon and met up with insane winds. We all settled into our lovely wee house and watched the wind tear the gorgeous autumn foliage off the trees and send the leaves spiralling round the garden. We all agree that riding in a forest in that wind would not be the best plan so we headed to the pub. The rest of the day was spent eating, drinking and telling ridiculous stories.

We woke the next day feeling slightly fuzzy in the head with a combination of over indulgence the previous evening and a night of sleep interrupted by various bangs and thumps caused by the wind. Luckily the wind had blown itself out and it was a pleasant if overcast day. The day started well initially with some practice hucking off the deck. I was very happy with my progress on this front and later in the day my new found confidence came in handy. We all agreed to a gentle start zooming around the flat Forest Cruiser tracks and taking it from there. Unfortunately these plans came to an abrupt halt after a nasty head vs. post incident which meant hubby and I had to go into town and get a new helmet. Luckily, the lovely Neil at Krank came to our rescue and hubby’s brain was once more fully protected from harm. Neil also filled us in on the new track and how the forest was riding. We headed back to our little house and I left hubby to nurse his headache while I went for a blast through the forest, retracing some of the fantastic 4hr course. Through the forest, and I was flying at race pace. It was gorgeous in the trees with all the foliage in yellows, oranges and reds. The track was often obscured by the fresh leaf fall from the previous day’s strong winds, which made some of the corners even more exciting fun. Soon I was crossing the road and heading up the twists and turns of Mack 1. I think I actually enjoy this track more going up than down now! It really is a lovely wee climb. From there it was up the road to Larches Picnic area and down Dog Stream. I was humming along, zig- zagging between the rocks when I heard a nasty tearing noise. I slowed slightly in preparation for all the air to evacuate my back wheel, but nothing happened so I continued on and forgot about it. Onto Jolliffe Rd and up I headed, gently spinning and enjoying the lovely day. Soon I was at the skidder site and heading into Red Rocks. As usual the Anthem climbed like a dream up the steeper sections of the climb and I was feeling great at the top. I started heading down the dry track and noticed I was bouncing around a fair bit over the little drops and realised I hadn’t unlocked my front or rear suspension. D’oh! Quickly flicking the two switches on a flattish piece of track and I was soon zooming down the hill, loving every second of the descent, which has become a wee bit rutty. This just makes it all the more fun though. All too soon I was at the bottom and hopping my bike round 180° when I over balanced and took a nice big chunk of skin off my knee. Typical behaviour from me. Get through all the technical, potentially dangerous stuff and then fall off when I’m barely moving.

After lunch back at the house and cleaning up my knee, hubby and I headed out again. This time I took my Jamis as we were going to explore the new track Yankee Zephyr, plus hit Tank Track and a C-Line which have a bit more gnarl than I’m comfortable handling on my Anthem. We headed through town and up Clarence River Rd to Flax Gully and I was quickly reminded that the Jamis doesn’t like to go up hill. She’s such a fatty, and it was such hard work heading up the gravel road that I almost regretted bringing her. As we entered Flax Gully this was soon whipped away as we hit two lovely jumps and the Jamis soared through the air. Fun times. I ground my way up the rest of the track and soon we were at the skidder site, looking out across the barren, logged hillside. We could see Yankee Zephyr winding down and it looked great. Unfortunately it also looked like a nasty steep climb to get up to it, and it was. Also, we took the less scenic, more horrid climbing route to get to it and at one point I even had to push my fat girl for a bit. I haven’t had to do that in aaaaages!

It was oh so worth it! A little bit of singletrack climbing and we were standing on the edge of a steep bank, looking down at a narrow track that dropped away sharply and then started flowing through a seemingly endless series of berms which made perfect use of the gully below us. Down we went and soon there were little jumps off old stumps and drainage ditches to be hucked. The corners were all beautifully formed and once in the gully the fun really began with the need for pedalling and brakes removed by the track layout where you’d drop off one corner into the gully, and swoop up the other side to enter the next corner. This went on for at least 7 or 8 sets of corners until you are spat out on the road grinning from ear to ear and ready to head up the hill and try it again. Unfortunately for me my legs weren’t ready for that so we headed up another hill to Tank Track. On the way up the most ghastly steep bit of 4wd track we found the true entrance to Yankee Zephyr which cuts through some gorgeous old growth forest making the climb much more fun.

I made it to the start of Tank Track wheezing like an old woman in a poorly heated house in Southland. I had a quick look down the track and was glad to have my beloved fatty with me. Soon I was bouncing down big roots and over drops without a care in the world, whooping and laughing. Tank Track was good, but over way too quickly. It’s narrow and twisting through old growth forest and the track is criss-crossed by plenty of slippy roots which make for fun drops in many places. It was the first time I’ve ridden that track and I’m keen for more. Unfortunately on that day I wasn’t keen for more climbing so I watched as hubby powered up the hill for another lap of Yankee Zephyr, before we headed down Swoop, and Majuba and I headed home. A great day’s riding.

The next day threatened showers and I woke feeling very tired and unrested. It was a struggle to pull myself out of the warm bed and my upper body had that familiar aching in the shoulders and chest. Too many hucks the previous day maybe? All four of us decided to head out on the Jack’s Pass – Jollies’ Pass loop. As we climbed Clarence River Rd again I felt flat and uninspired to ride and then it started drizzling. Blah. The boys waited for us slower girls where the road meets the forestry road a short way up. The drizzle was fairly persistent now and hubby decided he wanted to ride the singletrack while it was still dry. Our friends continued on up the Pass and hubby and I headed to the correct entrance to Yankee Zephyr and I discovered I had a flat tyre. While searching for the source of my puncture I also discovered I had very neatly sliced my sidewall the previous day when rock hopping down Dog Stream. Luckily my tyre was about due for replacement so it wasn’t the end of the world. Both hubby and I were a bit grumpy after the tyre fixing and I realised I needed more sleep. Luckily the fantasticness of Yankee Zephyr took the edge off. We headed back to the wee house after that and I had a nap.

That night we rewarded ourselves with a trip to the hot pools, which despite the 60 primary school children who invaded the place just after we went in, was lovely. It was a chilly night, with almost a full moon and plenty of puffy clouds skudding across the sky. The warm, healing waters soaked into my aching shoulders, chest and elbow and all was right in the world. After a long long soak we returned to the wee house for night caps of delicious Black Ridge pinot noir.
The next morning we cleaned up the house and packed away our mountain of provisions. We’d all bought enough stuff with us to be staying a month so it took a couple of hours to get ready. Hubby decided he wanted to tackle Jacks-Jollies before we left and I decided I wanted to tackle mini golf. That worked out well so I headed off with our friends while hubby blasted up the pass. The mini golf was hilarious, and I was glad to improve on my shocking 96 from the last time I’d played this course. My putting prowess was much improved this round and I finished with a respectable 54. I bade goodbye to our friends and headed off to the forest to get a quick blast in before hubby returned from his ride. Unfortunately I’d only been going for 5 minutes when he called to say he was in town, speedy bugger!

It was a great trip and although I didn’t get as much riding in as I would have liked I was really happy with how my injuries held up to the fun singletrack. In complete contradiction to what my physio said, my osteo has said I should keep riding. I’m going to see how I feel after this weekend’s Singletrack Fiesta!

Mt Somers is like an old friend

2010-04-19T15:34:00.000+12:00

Yesterday was my forth Mt Somers race and after a week of lying round and recuperating from the Hanmer 4hr I wasn’t holding out much hope of putting in a stellar performance. I wasn’t too concerned though, I love this race, it’s really fun with a great atmosphere and through gorgeous country.

I woke up on Sunday morning in race mode, which meant I was insanely hyper active and bubbling. I bounced around packing and making coffee for hubby and Dirtdiva and soon we were on the road. Having an extra person in the car meant I babbled on even more than the norm and journey to Mt Somers flew by, well for me anyway. After passing through the traditional fog on Thompson’s Track we arrived to a gorgeous sunny day and unloaded the bikes. Poor Dirtdiva was riding my fat Jamis with its tractor tyres, it was going to be slow on the climbs, but I still think it was the more sensible choice than her singlespeed, good strength training!

At the start we barged our way into the second row of riders in the Intermediate race and after the briefing and Mexican wave we watched the Challenge riders blast away. Then it was our turn and for the first time I wasn’t dropped by everyone in the first 100ms and found I was able to stay in touch with the main group of riders. Knowing the exact layout of the course was great, it meant I wasn’t worried about pushing too hard off the start as I knew there was a downhill where I could have a wee rest not far after. Into the paddocks and the long wet grass sucked at tyres and pulled energy from legs and I thought of Dirtdiva on my squishy bike, it was going to suck. Once the pack spread out a bit more I managed to find a tyre-wide bit of dirt to ride in and began moving up the hill at a better pace, then the first little bit of down and I zoomed past more people. On the gravel roads I held my own for a change and I was working really hard, my heart hammering in my chest. Around the base of the hill and the track was slippy and fun in the shady spots and I knew we would be in for some very slippery sections on the climb. At one point I was bombing along and hit a patch of mud a bit fast and off line and skidded through it sideways, laughing like a madwoman. Fun times.

Soon enough we hit the first steep climb and all around me people got off their bikes. One woman next to me said “Why would you even try to ride that?!” and I replied in Ed Hilary styles “Because it’s there” and proceeded to ride the whole thing, picking my way through the walkers. I was wheezing and stoked and spun further up the hill, determined to ride as much of the hill as traffic and mud would allow. Up the hill I went, forward on my seat, using my arms, but relaxed as I could be, just spinning up the hill, letting my legs do what I know they can and pointing my bike at the route with the most traction. Up into the manuka and the track became slicker and slicker and I picked my way through the traffic with many people encouraging me. Unfortunately my crossmark tyres couldn’t find traction and my back wheel spun out and that was it for my climbing for a while. Round the corner and the track dried out a bit as we climbed higher and I was able to remount and ride, much easier than pushing.

I was going really well and felt strong still, the traffic wasn’t so thick that I couldn’t ride for walkers, although there were a few people riding who were a bit scary. One guy was trying to remount and wasn’t able to get enough momentum to get going and would zoom off and topple, I was worried he’d fall into me, but he didn’t, that came later when a guy tried to pass me on the inside of a rutty corner and chose a bad line. He went down into my back wheel, luckily I managed to stay on the bike, but I stopped anyway to make sure he was ok, which he was. The climb pitched up one more time and my legs and lungs finally exploded. I could see the clearing in the bush up at the next corner and knew that was where the track levelled out a bit. I pushed my bike up with everyone else, but unlike them I was wheezing like an elderly smoker. At the corner I stopped briefly to take in the amazing view that went all the way across the plains to the sea, and try and get my heart rate under control before I keeled over. Then back on the bike and up I went. I got to the top in an hour and was really happy with that, but even happier that I could unlock my shocks and point my bike in the right direction. I blasted down the hill, passing people like they were standing still, calling early so I didn’t frighten them. My bike felt like it was part of me and I grinned and whooped. Unfortunately in my enthusiasm I chose a shockingly bumpy line into the creek crossing at the bottom of the farm track and bounced my chain off. Luckily I had enough speed to coast through the stream and spin my legs uselessly on the other side. Of course everyone I passed on the downhill streamed back past me as I fumbled with my chain. Ah well, more targets for the next bit of downhill.

I had so much fun on the second part of the course. I loved every second off it and I worked as hard as I could the whole time. I caught up with a few people who’d gotten away from me on the climb and managed to stay in touch with them as we got back on the dirt roads and climbed up the nasty pinch. Then the head wind hit, of course, but I was blasting along the smooth clay road. A group tucked in behind me, which amused me greatly. I’ve never been going fast enough at the end of a race to be drafted before. Luckily for me they were kind enough to return the favour and as we hit the climb back up to the paddocks near the start my legs felt great and I powered up the hill dropping both the chick and the guy who were with me. I was shocked but pleased. Up ahead I could see a woman in blue and I wanted to catch her very badly.

Down the paddock I went, in my big ring, pedalling my lungs out. She was still riding really strongly and was also speeding down the paddock. Slowly but surely I reeled her in and popped out onto the gravel road slightly ahead of her. Then I pedalled with everything I had. I flew up the wee incline on the seal and pounded down the road, through the intersection at 50kph and then down to the entrance to the domain. I smashed it into the grass shoot and collapsed over my bars at the end as the man with the wire cutters removed my timing chip. I was dizzy and my legs felt like jelly, probably a sour lime flavour. I stumbled through the various tents and collapsed on the ground, completely wasted and stoked. I’d finished in 1:50:19, 9 minutes faster than the last time I did this race. I was 9th in Intermediate women and I cursed my olderness, as if I was still a sprightly 34 year old I would have been 3rd in Open Women with that time. Still I was faster than 50% of the field and more than 50% of the intermediate woman and I am so happy with that. It was a great day for me and reminded me why I love racing so much. It’s not about winning for me, I’m unlikely to ever win a race, it’s about beating myself year after year. The only person I want to be better than is me in the past and racing lets me measure if I’m able to do that. One more race to go before I take a month off the bikes and try and heal my injuries completely. 2.5 laps of Living Springs for our club champs, it’s going to hurt me a lot, but I’ll enjoy every minute of it.

Solo for the first time

2010-04-13T12:19:00.004+12:00

Oh so many bad Star Wars puns and Madonna song lines are running through my head right now, but I’m going to try and rise above the cheap laugh or innuendo and get down to the story.

Saturday was my first ever solo race and it was a 4 hour one. I’ve always been intrigued by 6hr solos but that seemed just a little beyond me so when I discovered that there was going to be a 4 and 8 hour race in Hanmer I was stoked. A number of discussions on the portal of time wasting and secret girly knowledge revelled that there was going to be a great turn out of Vorbettes and I got onto booking a house. And what a house I booked, it had the most stunning and disturbing carpet in the downstairs room. I’m glad I didn’t have to sleep in there or I would have been mentally scarred for the race the next day!

The day dawned brisk and bright and there was a layer of ice on the car. Brrrr. My various aches and particularly my gammy elbow were not happy about this. Hubby and I loaded up the car and headed to the camp site to set up while the rest of the girls lazed about in bed. In no time we had the tent mansion up with the other CSC riders and I was getting my usual pre-race jitters. I got to meet the amazing Jude Young, who is the primary reason I’ve even considered riding endurance races. She’s an amazing rider and an extremely cool person (who is probably not over the moon that I’m say such things about her). My bike arrived with the sleeping beauties and I went for a token warm up, planning to do most of my warming up on the first lap.

I’d talked to a couple of fast guys about the lap and they said they were cranking it out in 30mins at race pace, so I thought I’d be lucky to get through a lap in an hour. I set my goal to ride for 4 laps and settled myself at the back of the pack for the start. The hooter went and we were off! Those at the front zooming off, and those of us at the back setting off at a more leisurely pace. I pootled off up the road synchronising my watch and speedo, and looking like I was out for a Sunday ride. I am very serious after all!

The first lap sent us straight up the road and missed out all the singletrack climbs. I wanted to warm into the ride rather than blow up in the first 500ms as I’ve done in other races so I just spun up the gentle incline as people passed me. Soon we were at the turn off to the Larches picnic area and I discovered it was a very fun steep drop with a root running across it for excitement. Wooo hooo! Straight over the edge and I was slamming on my brakes as the people in front of me struggled to negotiate the bridge. Sigh. This was to be a feature of my first lap. I slipped past a couple of people before the bridge and one after and soon I was flying down Dog Steam track, floating between the rocks and ruts with a huge grin. Into the twisty single track and I passed a few more people before we hit the climb and they all went past me again. The grind up the 4wd climb was long and pretty gradual with only a couple of areas where it pitched up a tiny bit. I chatted to people as I spun up, saving my legs for the hours ahead of me.

At the top of the road I crossed the skidder site and headed down to the entrance to Timberlands, controlling my speed for the tight turn into the trees. Going down Timberlands was brilliant fun, although I had to pass a few people so I couldn’t really let loose on that lap. Even so the descent was over in what felt like seconds and I was popping out of the trees onto the gravel road and heading down. Cutting through the DoC area and on a walking track we were soon crossing under the road bridge and into the super fun twisty singletrack on the other side of the road. I was held up here a lot, but managed to pass plenty of people and found a fantastic flow. I was loving this race already. The first section of singletrack was super fast and fun and ended with a nasty pinch up a bank. From there it was more singletrack, but it was gently climbing and my legs could feel it. Soon I was out, crossing the road again, winding through the narrow walking track and zipping through the trees to the camp site. And I was grinning and very excited that I had more laps of this fantastic course to do.

After a quick change to fingerless gloves I was off again and dreading the upcoming climbs. Up Black Dog and it started off flatish through the trees and then became progressively steeper until it finished in a rather horrid little pinch right at the top before exiting on the 4WD track. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be and I was pretty happy that I could do it twice more, although in the back of my head I had started hoping that I would do it 3 times more. Down the loose road and into Mach 1 and this climb was fuuuunnnn! Jeremy Inglis and a couple of other 4hr riders blasted past me, politely, and I nearly lost it in one of the downhill bits when my back wheel hit a rock and bounced out sideways. Luckily my madcore skillz saved me. At the top of Mach 1 it was out onto the road and back on familiar ground. I had no traffic around me entering Larches and blasted down and onto the bridge, whooping. I brrrrrraaaapppped my way along Dog Stream and eased into the climb up the 4wd track.

Then one of the great highlights of the race. I was privileged to be lapped by one of the legendary racers of the mighty Bushlove Racing Team. Luckily I managed to maintain my composure at the sight of such manliness streaming past me and weakly cheered him on. I did some skidz down Timberlands and blasted down the road in a cloud of dust, then it was into the walking tracks briefly. Suddenly I hear a call of “Go Mel!” Yay, I love being cheered on. Then I was overcome with excitement as my new hero went past me, Ollie Whalley! Legend of the Kiwi Brevet, bridesmaid of the Alpine Epic, monkeyboy of Ventana. As he went was me he did a sic huck and loose as whip and I swooned slightly.

Giggling like a school girl I zoomed through the fantastic singletrack and passed a couple more people. I was getting lapped pretty regularly now, which was to be expected, and those passing were super polite and considerate which was great. Suddenly there was a deafening yell behind me of “Mel!” and I almost crashed into a tree. I returned the greeting with a hearty cry of “Dayle!” and let him slip past. We chatted for a while and then that crazy man on his rigid singlespeed disappeared into the forest, grinning like a madman.

My second lap finished and I was feeling pretty good and the clock was looking friendly. My arm was hurting a bit and some of the singletrack was really biting at it, but I was beginning to think 5 laps might be doable. I was having so much fun, that my niggling pains weren’t really an issue. The third lap went by in a blur of hucks and skidz and grinning, and soon I was back in the pits grabbing a handful of sour snakes and sorting an aggravating issue out. Back out on the bike I planned to push this lap and head straight out to get a fifth in. My body had different ideas.

As I climbed up Black Dog I could feel the muscles in my neck and lower back hardening up and on the short descent my lower back was really sore. Up Mach 1 and the twists and turns were really biting into arm. On the 4wd track I was riding up with one arm, trying to rest my right arm as my hand was get very sore and I was having difficulties changing gear with it. Down Dog Stream I tried to rest my lower back by not standing too much, but I couldn’t help myself, it was so fun to blast down there as fast as I could. Up on the climb my neck joined the pain party, but I was still sure I was going to get another lap in. Down Timberlands and the 4wd drive I was having so much fun I didn’t notice the pain. In the singletrack on the other side of the road it all began to unravel. There’s plenty of roots on that singletrack and every one I hit sent a bolt of pain through my right wrist and into my elbow where it’s screwed together. My fingers were starting to tingle painfully and my thumb was almost unusable. I checked my watch and realised I might have enough time for another lap, but I needed to stop and rub some Voltaren in my arm or I wouldn’t be going anywhere. I pushed on and felt awful. As I entered the campsite I couldn’t hold the bars with my right arm at all and my back was poked. I looked at the time and realised that I’d have to keep going without stopping and pull out a sub-40 min lap to get another lap in and pulled the pin. I rolled over the finish line and was met by my wonderful friend who helped me back to the tent. I rubbed Voltaren into my arm and collapsed in a deck chair.

I was gutted I couldn’t keep going, because the course was so fun, but I wasn’t surprised. I’ve been having so many problems since I hurt myself before Christmas that smashing myself on singletrack for over 3hrs was bound to shake everything up. The rest of the day was spent relaxing in the sun, chatting with old friends and new, heckling, I mean supporting riders and generally having a fantastic time. Once the painkillers kicked in I felt great and was stoked with my ride, and was very happy to discover I’d got 4th in my division, 20 minutes ahead of the person behind me.

The whole day was fantastic and I can’t wait to do it again, so hubby and I and some friends are heading up to Hanmer for 4 days of riding in a couple of weeks. Yeeeehaaa! Just in time for me to get a bit of training in for the Singletrack Fiesta the CSC is holding on the 1st of May. In the meantime, we’re off to Mt Somers this weekend and I’m going to race the Challenge race for the first time, I’m a sucker for punishment. I’ve promised my physio I’ll take time off from riding and heal after the 1st and I will. It’ll be hard, but I’ll do it!

A huge thanks to Rachel for looking after me and my hubby for all the support.

Playing about and healing

2010-04-07T18:25:00.001+12:00

After the Wee McGregor I was feeling rather spent, very satisfied and really sore. My elbow didn’t like the 22km bumpy descent and was absolute agony after the race. My chest/shoulders/neck (csn) injury, which just keeps persisting, wasn’t much better. My physio ordered me off the bike and I begrudgingly complied. After a few rest days both elbow and csn had settled down to being annoying rather than horribly painful and I felt happy enough with them to head out to the Vulcaniser open day.

The Vulcaniser in North Canterbury is a loop of gorgeous hand sculpted singletrack made up of evilly steep climbs and twisty fun descents. I had entered the Vulcaniser race which was cancelled because of rain so this ride day would let me know what I missed out on. And what I missed out on was pain. I am not fit enough to race that course, and I don’t think I’ll ever be unless I can drop 15 to 20kgs (which I have no plans to do in the near or distant future). It was fun, but I did a lot of pushing up some of the steeper bits. The descents were great and I rode all of them except the one rooty steep bit in the “Boars Nest”. Unfortunately my hubby had mechanical issues which meant only doing one lap, but to be honest it was so cold that I was happy to leave. Now I know that I’m destined to marshal at the Vulcaniser, not race it.

Following that I did some more resting of my injuries, with just some sifty road rides thrown in to keep my fitness from completely disappearing. With the return of my regular physio and his evil fingers of pain and neck/back cracking torture I was soon back in the forest and checking out how the Bottlelake trails are riding after all the logging that has gone on. The loops are all joined up again and most of the track is pretty sweet. There are a few nasty little sandy bits, but all in all it’s looking mint for when night racing starts up again. Unfortunately I learnt that a couple of laps on the singlespeed straight after painful physio treatment makes for feeling pretty crap so that was that for riding for another few days.

Of course I’ve also been playing on my fantastic BMX. I’ve ridden at both North Avon and Hornby tracks and while both are really fun I think I like North Avon’s better. This is unfortunate given it is on the other side of town, while the Hornby track is just up the road. Oh well, I’ll just have to get better at the Hornby track. I’m starting to get a feel for the bike and can do very small manuals. I spent an hour on Easter Monday practising wheelies and lifting my back wheel in the back garden and have improved a tiny amount. My arms are telling me what hard work that was. I’m looking forward to the time in the very distant future when I can roll along the footpath on my back wheel and do bunny hops over the curb.

I took a friend for a ride up Rapaki on Monday, which I thought might be tough given I’d done a couple of hours around the forest on Sunday but I was surprised how well it went. It’s the first time I’ve been up Rapaki since my tour and my legs just ate the hill up. It helped that it was the first time my friend had been up Rapaki and I got to just cruise along, but I was still surprised at the gear I maintained and how fresh I felt at the top. I can’t wait to hammer it up there soon and try and get a new personal best.

In the final bit of news I’m off to Hanmer this weekend to do a 4hr solo race. I’m very excited about it, and not just because of the racing, which I’m aiming to do in a more laid back fashion. Heaps of my great friends are coming up to race and support too so it’s going to be a fantastic weekend away. I’m looking forward to seeing how many laps I can do in my 4 hours without blowing up, but I’m mainly looking forward to hanging out with loads and loads of cool people. Bring on Friday!

The Wee McGregor – Return to Racing

2010-03-22T14:44:00.002+13:00

After the fiasco that was last year’s Moa Hunt my urge to race completely disappeared, I couldn’t be bothered training and I wasn’t feeling the love on the bike. Then there were the injuries over Christmas, the change in career and the focus on my recent tour that added up to me playing about on my bikes for a while and then training for long, slow rides over consecutive days, rather than fast paced races. Well all that has changed.

My eight days of riding from Greymouth to Cromwell has left me feeling fitter and stronger than I’ve ever felt in my life, and it is a great feeling. I was planning on doing the Vulcaniser last weekend, however torrential rain in North Canterbury lead to that race being cancelled and my focus shifted to the Wee McGregor race in Tekapo. The last time I did this race was 2 years ago, my broken elbow preventing me from doing it last year. Back then it was the biggest race I’d ever done and my only goal was to complete it. There was plenty of bike pushing and taking it easy during the race, but this time would be different.

I was really rather excited about this race and set myself a couple of goals. Firstly to make the top 5 in my division. The second to do it in 2hr 30min. Well the weather has something to say about my time goal, with a very strong headwind on the way out, which then swung round on the return journey to be a headwind for the last 10kms also. This meant that Rob Soothill who won it finished in just over 2hrs, while in the year I’d last competed the winner finished in about an hour 40mins.

The day didn’t start exactly perfectly either as I realised that although I’d bought delicious yoghurt and berries with me I’d forgotten my muesli, so I had to confront my nemesis once more and chow down on a One Square Meal bar. These are much more edible with yoghurt and berries. A bottle of V inside me after registration and a warm up ride out to the lake and back and I was rearing to go. The start was brutally fast and I quickly went backwards and found myself fighting the wind on my own. I saw a man not too far ahead of me and sped up to catch onto his wheel. That went well for a wee while, but on the first pinch climb he dropped me and I spent the next 10kms out on my own in no man’s land. Twas to be the story of my race.

After battling on for those 10 wind-swept kilometres I glanced behind me and saw that there was a largeish bunch a few hundred metres behind me. I dropped the pace and waited for them to catch me. I wanted to rest my legs a bit before I hit the climb because I was determined to ride nearly all of it this year. Note: the whole climb has only ever been ridden once so I certainly had no delusions of doing that. The bunch caught me and invited me to tuck in and worked extremely well, using hand signals and checking on other riders. It was great. We were soon catching those people up ahead of me, including the man who got away from me on that first pinch. In no time at all we were turning off the thick gravel and onto the rough, rocky, rabbit hole strewn farm track.

My legs felt great as I hit the first steepish section and soon almost everyone from the bunch was disappearing behind me. A young boy and a fit looking woman were up ahead and I just kept riding as around me people started walking. The wind was still howling in my face and when it wasn’t in my face it was threatening to push me over as I negotiated the rocky sections. Soon I’d left the young boy and the fit looking woman behind me as my legs ate the climb and the Anthem performed like a dream over the technical rocky bits. I still had to walk 4 stupidly steep, bouldery pinches, but having the light bike made all the difference in the world and I didn’t have to stop and get my breath back once. Slightly behind schedule I reached the top of the climb in 1hr 37 minutes, unlocked my suspension and took off. My legs felt amazing and for the first time in my life I felt what it was like to get to the top of a climb after working hard and still be able to power the descent. It felt damn good. I was soon barrelling along over the rocks and holes and ruts at nearly 30kph and the Anthem floated over everything like a dream. I hucked over rocks and powered through long rough sections. My elbow quickly started complaining at this bumpy rough treatment, but I just pushed the pain away and flew. I was completely by myself. I could see for miles in all directions and there was no one ahead of me and no one behind me. To my right the lake gleamed aqua-blue in the spots of sunlight breaking through the clouds. I looked at the Alps and thought that it was only two weeks ago I was alone on the other side of them, in lush green forests, rather than this barren but stunning high country land.

Ahead I could see the marker arrows stretched into the distance and I powered on. I turned into the next valley and could see a couple of riders far ahead. I decided I would catch them and as I got closer I saw one was wearing a bright pink top, which spurred me on faster, Women! Riding through the creeks and across the paddocks was a blur and soon I was very close to my prey. We headed up a little climb and turned off towards the river and soon I was in their dust as I raced down towards it. I surged through the river and passed them both on the climb out. It was so very satisfying I had to stop myself from yelling “YES!” at the top of my lungs.

Next came the most unpleasant section of the ride, along the river. The enormous rainfall of last winter had changed the river’s course and we were riding on freshly bulldozed track made up of big loose rocks, deep drifts of shingle and continuous bumpy uneven ground. It was hard work, but keeping up the speed helped greatly. I was very happy to reach the site of my previous downfall, where I fell into the river, for it meant the end of the horrid shingle track. I crossed the river with no problems and took off on the last 8kms of the course.

The wind struck me and I cursed heartily. I looked at my speedo and saw that my hopes of making it back in 2hr 30mins were dashed by the combination of sluggish shingle and this wind. It was meant to be behind me! I’d earned it by working so hard to get here. On I plowed. Up the next climb and into the direct blast of the wind. My speed dropped right off, but my anger at the injustice and heartlessness of the wind spurred me on. I hammered my legs and soon I reached the last crest of the race and looked down to the forest where the finish line waited. I took a swig of Replace, shifted up into a nice hard gear and yelled at the wind, “Let’s finish this thing!” Spending plenty of time alone on a race has you doing slightly crazy things like this.

I flew down off the hill, tucked in and pedalling hard. My speed shot up to over 40 and I grinned as I danced through the ruts and round the corners. Soon I was in the forest and smashing my way up the last few pinches. On the very last one I was almost at the top when I looked up and didn’t see a dirty great rock in front of me. I went straight into it and tipped off, laughing and cursing equally. I leapt back on the bike and powered down the finishing hill, blasting at 55kph towards the line. I felt like roaring with triumph.

My legs were toasted, but I had raced hard the whole race. I felt like a racer, rather than someone who participates in races and the feeling was amazing. I hadn’t achieved my time goal, but I was happy with 2hr 48 in the conditions and it is much better than me 3hrs 10 the last time I did it. At the prize giving I was stoked to get a spot prize of the Ground Effect Hot Toddy, which will come in handy with winter coming up. I was even more stoked when I got to see the list of times and saw that I’d managed to get 5th! Yeah.

On the way home in the car, I knew I’d gone as fast as I could and had ridden the rough terrain well. With a migraine pulsing through my head and stomach I was happy that I’d left everything out on the course. My racing buzz is back stronger than ever and I can’t wait to do the Hanmer 4hr race on the 10th of April.

The Importance of a Great LBS

2010-03-18T08:55:00.003+13:00

Firstly, for those of you not acronym savvy, LBS stands for Local Bike Shop. This does not necessarily mean the bike shop closest to your work or home, it means the bike shop you most regularly frequent, the shop the you entrust to look after your precious babies. Before I became frankly obsessed with riding I went through a number of LBSs and they were part of the reason I never really got into biking sooner.

As a chick, and a chick who doesn’t look athletic, I was often talked down to in bike shops. I really don’t like the feeling of going into any sort of shop and feeling intimidated by the staff, or worse yet, ignored and that has happened to me often in other bike shops, and still does when I visit other shops. Now I find it amusing because I have an amazing LBS and this behaviour by other shops just reinforces that my LBS will be the one that gets my hard earned money.

My LBS is Hub Cycles in Tower Junction. It’s the shop that sold me my beloved Jamis, the bike that sunk its chain-ring into my heart and got me hooked on this great sport. From day one Andrew and Pete have been great to me, they’ve never made me feel stupid, they’ve given me helpful advice, they’ve listened when I’ve come in with issues and they’ve always gone out of their way to help me. Now that I actually know a bit about bikes they know that and talk to me like I know what I’m on about, even when I don’t. They know my name and always ask how my riding is going. Andrew in particular mocks me when I’ve been a muppet and had a stupid crash, which is fair enough, because he also asks how my injuries are healing too. And on top of all this they do a fantastic job of looking after my bikes, even my pre-loved ones that didn’t come from them.

Why am I extolling their virtues so profusely? Firstly because I think they deserve it for all the help they’ve given me over the years and Andrew’s great help setting me up with stuff for my trip. Secondly because we’ve just bought two more amazing bikes off them and they were so helpful and gave us such a great deal on the pair of them.

My lovely husband and I have been together for 5 wonderful years and to celebrate this I wanted to get him a new bike. His old Enduro wasn’t treating him right and he wasn’t riding much anymore, so to remedy this I started searching for a new bike. To cut a long story short we visited many, many bike shops in the quest for a great bike we ended up going with the awesome bike the boys at Hub suggested. And here it is.

This bike is so beautiful I’ve been jumping up and down with happiness at the thought of my hubby riding it. Not only did they give us a great deal on the bike they set it up perfectly for him to get out on it straight away. A few tweaks and it will be mint for the race this weekend.

Speaking of mint (sorry, that was a bad segway), while hubby was sorting out his bike I was noticing that the BMX I’ve been drooling over for the past 8 months was no longer on display. Oh no! Luckily for me, it was just out the back making room for new season’s stock. So I took it for a test ride round the carpark and it was mint. Chilly mint to be exact. My wonderful husband did his best to convince me that I wasn’t getting it so he could surprise me with it, but as soon as I rode it and he saw my enormous grin I knew it would be mine. He still managed to surprise me yesterday though because I thought I’d be getting it next week so seeing it sitting the back of the car yesterday was great. Here it is.

Is she beautiful? (I’ll completely understand if you don’t think so, she’s a love it or hate it style gal). So today I’m off to play at the BMX track in Hornby and see if I can pump some rollers and manual some jumps. Once upon a time I couldn’t understand why people would have multiple bikes. Now I have 5 completely different bikes and I wouldn’t be without any of them. Thanks Hub Cycles for making me fall in love.

Tour debrief – Were those new pants good?

2010-03-17T16:30:00.003+13:00

Yes, thank you, they were. If you don’t know what I’m referring to I shall enlighten you. I recently bought a pair of Ground Effect’s Helter Skelter rainpants and I was quite excited about testing them out in the legendary West Coast rain. It took a number of days for the weather to oblige with a stonking downpour, but on Day 5 the rains came down. Result, a very thorough test of the rainpants. The Helter Skelters are ¾ pants with Velcro tabs at the bottom and cunningly built bendy knees. This means it’s very easy to slip these babies on over shoes in a hurry and then fasten the Velcro tabs so you don’t have flappy legs. My pants performed great in the heavy rain and mud of my trip and kept me warm and pretty dry. Of course biking in them for over almost 2 hours meant I did sweat in them a bit, but I didn’t feel like my legs were broiling in their own juices. And although they swish when you walk (I kinda like this), they are quiet on the bike.

As a bonus I found them really well fitting and pretty stylish. As you can see they go rather well with a pair of high heels which then show off your hard earned calf definition rather nicely. They also look good with cycling shoes, which I would recommend. They are hard wearing as I discovered when I fell in the garden during my photoshoot because of my ridiculous shoes.
A bit of mud from falling on the pointy rocks, but otherwise still looking good as new. I would definitely recommend these pants not just for commuting, but also for throwing in the bottom of your bag if you’re heading on an epic ride as they are light and pack down to a tiny package. Helter Skelters = WIN

My other big purchase before the trip was a lovely new pair of Bontrager Race MTB shoes with fancy adjustable inner-sole. I will admit that one of the reasons I got these shoes is because they looked so good. The main reason was their comfort. I wanted a shoe stiff enough for hours of pedalling, but something I could also walk round in since I wasn’t taking any other shoes with me. These babies fulfilled that brief perfectly. Sure my feet got sore after 4 or 5 hours of riding, but that’s to be expected. I didn’t get any numbness or specific point pain, which was great. Also off the bike I had no trouble tracking through forests, traipsing over rocky valleys, walking up steep hills or leaping over streams in these shoes. They had plenty of grip in all situations and there was just enough flex in the foot that I didn’t feel like I was tottering around looking for a latte. That fact that the lovely boys at the Hub gave me a great deal on these shoes helped also. These shoes are brilliant and if I wasn’t worried about wearing my cleats down I would live in them. Bontrager Race MTB shoes = WIN!!!

Packing for a trip the West Coast is very important. I had packed for rain, meaning my panniers were lined with draw-string trash bags and all my various bits and pieces were sealed in zip-slide bags. I choose the zip-slides rather than the zip-locks because of the ease of use. Slide and sealed. Well not entirely. I don’t know if I got a bad batch, but 90% of my Glad zip-slides broke, some while I was packing. I lived in constant fear that the bags containing my Replace powder would break and everything I had in that pannier would become Orange and Mango flavoured. Luckily these were the only bags that didn’t break. In the future I’ll be going for zip LOCK. Note: using lots of little bags to bundle up toiletries etc is great for packing, even if you’re not heading to a region of high rainfall. Glad Zip-slide bags = FAIL

There are two things I couldn’t have done without on my trip (well apart from clothes and food and my bike and stuff). Horley’s Replace and Keywin Shammy Cream. I chose, wisely I think, to only take bottles on my trip and not carry a back pack. Every day I would start with one bottle of water and one bottle of Replace. On a short day I’d drink most of the water and a bit of replace. On a long day I’d drink most of the water and a couple of bottles of Replace. I didn’t bonk and I didn’t cramp so I think this strategy was rather successful. I seemed to recover well, and to help with this I took 300mg of Magnesium every night. Along with starting the day set up for good hydration, I’d start the day set up for sitting on a bike seat for hours by applying Keywin liberally to my shammy. That stuff rocks, and I’m not going into further detail on that matter.

My final product review will be of my nemesis the One Square Meal bar, made by Cookie Time. Yes I hated them. Yes I thought they were too sweet and hurt my teeth. Yes I dreaded putting it in my mouth and chewing them was an act of will power. BUT they are extremely good nutritionally. When I got to Okarito after 6 hrs plus on the bike I knew that my OSMs would provide me with enough of what I needed to get me through the next day. When the going got tough on the big days and I was ravenous, an OSM would sort me out (and its disgustingness would distract me from my ails). I would and will use them again, in races and on huge rides, they are very clever food. If only they were savoury.

So that’s the product reviews done onto the more important stuff, what this trip meant for me. When I first conceived of doing this trip it was so daunting that I planned it out in 40km days because I honestly didn’t think I could do all that riding day after day. I soon realised that a couple of hours riding a day was silly and got training to see what I could handle. After making a more realistic itinerary I really focussed being able to ride for at least 50 or 60kms on consecutive days. Even so I still doubted myself and was nervous about my chest injury and my ability to keep going if I bonked in the middle of nowhere.

I was also a bit nervous about spending so much time alone. I have been a pretty solitary creature in the past, I guess that’s one of the reasons being a writer suits me, but since meeting my husband and getting married I haven’t really spent any length of time completely alone. Would I go insane, would I get depressed? These sorts of questions buzzed about before I left. How would I handle any dramas? Would I get freaked out sleeping in a tent with no one I knew around? Question after question popped up, and by the time I left I was pretty nervous.

How did I go mentally then? I thrived. I loved flying along the road, only having myself to answer to and depend on. After the tough work situation I was in last year my confidence had been battered a bit and this trip not only restored it, but built it bigger and better than ever. I conquered my fears and pushed my physical boundaries further than I thought was possible. I am glad I did this alone, I chatted with strangers, I wrote in my journal, I talked to cows and birds, I sung and I swore and I loved it. Not only has this trip provided my was a plethora of material for my writing, it has returned me a state of happiness and given me back a feeling of capability that was a bit lacking before I left.

We are so lucky to live a beautiful place like New Zealand where we can so easily get out and experience anything from soaring mountains, wild beaches, dense forests, surging rivers and pure clean, sweet air. This country is still a safe place. Not once did I feel nervous or uncomfortable on my trip, or wish I had someone with me for safety. Not only that, on the West Coast the drivers were all, with the exception to prove the rule of the one bus driver in Hokatika, exceptionally courteous. Milk tankers and tractors, buses and campervans all gave me a wide birth when they could, and in return when they couldn’t, I pulled over. Which reminds me, I loved my lame rear view mirror mounted on my handlebar. It was fantastic. I could see traffic coming behind me and if there was a blind corner of traffic coming up I could move over. I know a lot of people think they are silly, but I would never do a tour without one now and I find myself glancing at my handlebars when I’m commuting and being disappointed that I have to twist round to see what’s coming up behind me.

So in summary I say, do a cycle tour. Get out and see the country. If you can handle your own company do it alone, otherwise take someone who you know well and can put up with your grumping/snoring/singing/madness. You don’t have to be super fit and strong to do it, I wasn’t when I left (I am very fit now though). If an overweight 35 year old can do it you can too. It doesn’t have to be 8 days, it doesn’t have to traverse great distances. Just a couple of days will give you the taste of the freedom that comes from carrying your accommodation with you and deciding when you stop and where you go. I’ve come back fit, strong and happy and rearing to get racing.

Tour in Pictures

2010-03-11T18:20:00.002+13:00

Click the picture below to view a Picassa album of all my photos from the trip

Tour Day 8 – Finding limits and going past them

2010-03-11T16:00:00.003+13:00

My last night of sleep on tour was a surreal one. My little A-frame house had no curtains across the high windows and the moonlight streamed in. I was woken by voices around 1am, a man and a woman who sounded drunk and upset. They were in the room behind me and the walls were paper thin so I could here every whisper as if they were in the same room as me. He tells her she’s safe here and urges her to go to sleep. It was weird and a bit creepy, but that’s what you get in backpackers.

The next morning I had a lovely huge cooked breakfast to make up for the lack of proper dinner last night. Around me many people were wandering about in lycra as a big group of cycle tourists on an organised tour sat down to eat. They left at the same time as me, them in their bus, me on my bike. Once upon a time I thought I’d like to do a supported tour, but this experience has completely changed that for me. I now know I’m very capable and can achieve anything I put my mind to, even if it is intimidating. With this thought in mind I resolved to get to Cromwell today, on this the last day of riding through the countryside alone. I felt positive and strong and donning arm warmers to ward off the high country morning chill I set off.

My legs definitely knew they’d had a big day yesterday, but they felt strong and soon I was whizzing along. The road along the edge of Lake Wanaka undulates a lot, up over high bluffs. The climbs aren’t large but there are many of them and it was difficult to find a nice rhythm as every time I’d get one going I’d crest the climb and be soaring down the other side. Luckily I had a hammering tailwind which sped me onwards. The lake looked beautiful in the rising sun and the countryside was a stark contrast to my previous 7 days of lush green forests and paddocks. It felt like home though and I was very, very happy. Unfortunately I was also very keen and pushed a bit harder than was really sensible as I wanted to make the 45km to Hawea by lunch.

Climbing up the road to where I crossed from Lake Wanaka to Lake Hawea I began passing a group of catered cycle tourists with their unladen light bikes and shiny lycra. I was filthy and weighed down by my 13kgs of gear on my lovely heavy Rocky Ell, but I was grinning as I spun up the hill. They all looked pained as they floated down the hill and a few complained of the wind as they went past. It made me think of the endless stream of motorists I’d seen during my trip, in particular those on my wet days. They all looked so unhappy in their vehicles, rushing to get to the next pretty place to stop for a quick look before hurrying on. True some looked happy and waved, but they were in a very small minority. Meanwhile I was constantly smiling, in the wind and the rain, grateful to be out in the beautiful land and taking in all nature had to offer me.

As I crested the hill I was hit by the hot Central sun and the most amazing smell of home. Sweet, ripe rosehips, on the hot air, with dirt and thyme, the smell welcomed me back into my land. I grinned as I raced down the road, happy in the sun and flying at 66kph, my bike feeling light and balanced as I soared through corners. Of course there were plenty more undulations before I got to Hawea and my legs were feeling pretty spent as I ground up the steep street leading to the middle of town and food. I grabbed a delicious Jimmies Pie and some fruit and junk food and sat down in the shade to refuel and rest. I knew I was tired, but I was still confident I could make the next 65ks to Cromwell. I rang my mum and told her I’d be in Cromwell by 4pm and set off.

Unfortunately I’d been a bit optimistic with my eating and resting and by Albert Town 5kms down the road I was sitting in the shade eating the last of my disgusting OSMs and having a bit more of a lie down. Luckily my last OSM was greatly improved by the bacon and cheese flavoured Shapes crumbs which had adhered to its entire surface. Take note Cookie Time, add some savoury to your OSMs and they will be much more delicious. Feeling fuller, but still tired I slogged along with a nasty cross wind buffeting me about. Finally I made it to the Wanaka to Cromwell road and the wind was once again behind me, but there were still undulations in front of me. A sign saying 7km to the Wanaka airport had me seriously considering calling my mum to come and get me, and I still had 45kms to go. I stopped for an ice cream at the Vintage Toy Museum (which was very cool and if I hadn’t been so tired and stinky I could have easily spent hours in there) and got back on the road.

By 2pm I’d made it to Lugget and rang mum again to warn her I’d be in Cromwell nearer 5pm at the slow pace I was travelling at. After Lugget the road flattened and begun to take a slight downward turn and I was soon speeding along at 25kph with the wind behind me. Phew I thought, I’ll make it after all. As I whizzed along the sun got hotter and hotter and I was later to learn that it was a 30 degree day that I was riding in. Things went great for the next 20 odd kilometres, a few rest breaks for fuel and shade and then at 3:30pm everything went pear shaped when the wind swung 180degrees and became a howling headwind, my worst nightmare. My spirits flagged under its unremitting pressure and I searched for a shady place to rest for a while. Finally I spotted some pine tree in the distance and made for them, flopping down amongst the Viper’s Blugoss, glad to be out of the sun. I felt pretty bad. My body was asking why I was doing this to it and I told it because I had to find out if I could. After 5 or 10 mins of reclining in the prickles I dragged myself up and jumped the fence. There were sprinklers on in the paddock and I was roasting. After sticking my head under the icey blasts and getting thoroughly soaked I felt much better and got back on the road.

The horrible, horrible road. I hated everything about this road, the chip was coarse and bumpy, the traffic was heavy and fast and didn’t move over at all for me, there was broken glass, there was no shade and no shelter from the wind. I just wanted it to be over. Around 4pm I made it to the 45th Parallel beside Lake Dunstan and stopped for a photo, but mainly for a rest. Back on the bike and I was running low on water. I continued on until a saw a vineyard driveway lined with willow trees. I pulled in and flopped down on the clay, eating some stale cookie and gulping down the last of my fluids. The owner of the driveway went past and smiled which was nice. I got back on the bike and the roofs of Cromwell were visible in the distant. Not far now. All I had to do was keep pedalling. I felt like I did the first time I did the Molesworth when everything hurt some much I had to keep making deals to keep going. No deals this time, just the mantra in my brain of pedal, pedal, pedal. Pedal, pedal, pedal. I didn’t look at my speedo, I couldn’t bear seeing how slow I was going. My bladder also kicked in with the complaining and 3kms out of Cromwell I gratefully stopped at Loburn beside the lake and used the public toilets to get some relief and to get some more water. I used the last of my Replace and then sat in the shade in the toilet block, sucking back my drink and thinking how sad it was I was sitting in a toilet block 3ks from my destination and not wanting to move.

I looked at my watch and saw that I could still get to Cromwell before 5pm and struggled back onto the bike and just pedalled. It was all I could do. Finally I was rounding the corner into Cromwell and for the first since the monstrosity was erected I was grateful to see the giant fruit. Mainly because sitting underneath them was my mum with her car. After much hugging and congratulating I loaded my bike on the back, threw my panniers on the back seat and collapsed into the passenger seat. I’d done it! Something that I didn’t think was possible for me a month ago. I’d ridden over 110kms in a day and been on the bike for over six and a half hours, and that was after doing a massive day previously. I have never felt so proud in my life, especially because I wasn’t the only one who didn’t think I could do it. It hurt, but I kept going. I wanted to stop at halfway it hurt so much, but I just kept going. I am stronger now than I’ve ever been before. And my reward for all this? My mum took me for a delicious real fruit ice cream (although she was worried I’d spoil my appetite for dinner, yeah right!) before driving back to Alex, a hot shower, a huge delicious roast meal and a big comfy bed. My journey over, I slept like a rock, a very happy rock.

Makarora to Cromwell – 114kms in 6hrs 36
Total journey 569kms in 34hr 01

Tour Day 7 – To cross the Southern Alps

2010-03-11T10:05:00.005+13:00

Another great 11 hours sleep in the bag and another huge breakfast on the way. What a great morning. The sun was duelling with the thick clouds and when it did break through it was very very warm. I scoffed a good greasy spoon breakfast and to complete the feeling I had that I was in a UK cafe a larger than life English wideboy came to chat to me. Now don’t be confused by the term boy, this guy was probably in his late 50s, rather round, grey curly hair poking out from under a cheesecutter, shirt open to expose an horrific hairy chest with enormous gold chains fighting to tame the vegetation. He was like a walking caricature and he was lovely. He was truly amazed I was biking round by myself, said he’s chatted to a French girl who was doing the same sort of thing and thought we were crazy, but great. He had heaps of questions and was so intrigued he was even trying to drag his companions over to meet me, but they were bored and uninterested. He was impressed with my breakfast eating powers and suggested that porridge would also be a good start for the day, which I agreed with, until he suggested topping it with plenty of Irish Cream! I bade him a fond farewell as he drove off and I saddled up in a fantastic mood and looking forward to great challenge the day had in store for me. Almost 800m of climbing and 80ks till the next town, bring it on!

Today’s ride again managed to step up the beauty and magnificence of my riding environment to a whole new level of mind-blowing loveliness. With the heavy overnight rain the Haast river valley I was riding up was alive with hundreds of waterfalls, from the small happy road-side ones to the enormous roaring monsters high up in the mountains. It was so heavenly I couldn’t stop smiling and my face hurt. With so much water flowing down the mountainside there were many, many TransitNZ signs with often silly names for all the streams and creeks I was crossing. Then I came to a sign that read Imp Grotto. I thought that someone was getting very lyrical with their names and then I saw Imp Grotto. It was a deep cleft in the rock face and inside water poured down. The light hit the cleft at such an angle that the white water seemed to glow green. It was possibly the most beautiful thing I’d seen on the trip and that’s saying something. It was made all the more special by the fact that unless you were moving at bike pace you would never get to see it. I wanted to stop and photograph it, but it’s on a narrow corner and there’s no safe place to stand. I didn’t need reminding that this is the reason cycle touring is fantastic, well one of the reasons.

After a morning tea stop in the drizzle I made it to Pleasant Flat, which was aptly named and had a nice big lunch which I shared with the Brown Creepers and Chaffinches. Then it was onto Thunder Creek, at the base of the Haast Past. Even though the road had been gentle climbing I felt like it was actually going downhill and I’d made great time, with my legs feeling really strong. My plan for the day involved stopping at all the bush walks and enjoying this place as much as possible so I tied my bike to the information sign at Thunder Creek and headed into the bush. Only a minute later I popped out on the river bank to see a lovely waterfall. After a brief stop I was back on the bike and the climbing started.

Soon I was at the Gates of Haast, where the river tumbles violently through a deep and narrow gorge strewn with enormous boulders. The water roils like an angry, trapped beast, battering its way down the gorge with roars of defiance. It is a very cool place and apparently causes tourists to abandon their sense of reason. As I biked up towards the singlelane bridge, which had tight corners on the entrance and exit I came upon a man parked in my lane. Not off to one side of it, but in the middle of it, facing me, effectively blocking the bridge. What an idiot! I gave him the evil eye as I slowly rode straight towards him. When I got to the bridge and stopped for the obligatory “this is where the climb really starts” photo I looked back and saw he’d pulled off the road into parking spot, which had only been 5m from him the whole time. Duh!

From the Gates of Haast the road pitches up into a nice hard 10% gradient and for the first time on the whole trip I was really feeling the weight of my luggage. I had to work really hard for the next kilometre or so, egged on a group of young English lads who were stopped on the side of the road leaning on their, pretty much unladen, bikes. To be honest I would have stopped where they were if they hadn’t been there, but as is the way of the cyclist, I smiled, called out a few words back to them and continued on as if this climb wasn’t bloody hard work. My breath was steaming out of me in clouds before my eyes as I climbed through the damp forest, with the constant roar of the river to keep me company.

Sooner than I expected I reached Fantail falls, where the road and river both flatten briefly. They are lovely falls and I scoffed that staple of the New Zealand confectionary counter for generations, the K Bar, to up my sugar levels and keep me going. Here at Fantail Falls the rock stacking phenomena which seems to be becoming more and more prevalent throughout NZs lovely areas, was in great force. It’s like people see these amazing places and just have to leave their mark, I’ve begun to see these little cairns as eerie graffiti. They look like little burial mounds left by ghost folk who need to shape their world.

I continued up the road in the drizzle, passing some more road workers on the road who told me I was almost at the top. I didn’t really believe them because people who mainly drive have a very different concept of “nearly at the top” to people who get there under their own power. So I was amazed when a few minutes later I reached the Pass! I had thought I had about another half hour of climbing based on my assessment of how long it would take me to do this climb. I was extremely happy with this and cruised down the other side grinning like a fool.

Onto the next stop at the Blue Pools and a nice 30 minute walk through the bush to crystal clear deep pools that just cried out to be swum in, but it wasn’t warm enough for that sort of silliness. The serenity of the place was broken by two excitable middle-aged men who spotted some huge trout drifting in the pools and started yelling to each other “Do you see it?”, “There it is!”, “Look at the size of that one!” even though they were standing next to each other on the bridge. It was actually pretty cool. These guys were just like excited little boys and I love when people forget their inhibitions and let their joy take over. Their wives weren’t too happy about this and left and I ended up walking with them for a bit. They were also very interested in my trip and had lots of questions, like Was I scared? What was my bike called? Why do it? They were really nice and offered to take a photo of me, but I said I already had plenty of photos of my bike and that was my best side anyway.

The walk back up to the road revealed one last gem to me, with my fascination for birds. A pair of Rock Wren, which I’ve never seen before. They were absolutely adorable with their short little legs, squat bodies and beautiful bright plumage. They seemed so friendly and inquisitive and I fell in love with them. It was just the icing on an already amazing cake of a day! Along the road a bit more and I was in Makarora. Upon entering the visitor centre, which is the restaurant, shop, pub, accommodation and trip booking office, I was overwhelmed with the mouth watering smell of roast beef. Oooooh, just what I needed. I quickly booked a dorm room, which I once again had to myself, rushed up to my little A Frame house, had a nice long shower and headed back down to the bar, visions of meat swimming in gravy in my head. I was horrified to discover that no dinner was available until 7:30pm! It wasn’t even 5:30 yet and I was dying of starvation. The young English bartender asked if he could help me and I asked if it was possible to get some food earlier and he said no! Unable to remember my manners as my low blood sugar took over I asked him if (young children look away now) he was fucking kidding? I then explained that I’d just biked here from Haast and that I was extremely hungry and did he have some wedges or something like that I could order. I couldn’t believe it when he said no, just the sandwiches over there. My mind struggled to comprehend that I was in a restaurant and pub and couldn’t get a feed. I decided to have a cider to calm down and think about what I’d do for food. I knew I couldn’t wait till 7:30, I was struggling to stay awake as it was. The very nice and understanding barman went out the back and talked to the chef while I sat in the corner of the bar getting quickly drunk on my cider and writing. The chef came out and yelled out “Who was the woman who wanted some fries”. Without hesitation I called out me! And he told me that I couldn’t have the ones in his hand, but that he’d bring me some shortly. Saved! And they were very good and only $4. Woot.

Full of potatoey goodness and swaying slightly from my pint of cider I headed back up to my dorm and went to bed and was asleep just after 7! It had been a fantastic day, I'd crossed my first Alp and I was actually sad that tomorrow would be the last day. I decided that I wanted more riding and thought that I’d maybe go on to Cromwell, rather than stop in Wanaka, after all what’s another 50km?

Haast to Makarora - 80km in 5hr 14 (800m climbing)

Tour Day 6 – Swamps and jungles, the first taste of sandflies

2010-03-10T12:00:00.005+13:00

It seems that 7:30am is the perfect time to wake up when you go to bed at 8:30pm, that’s the time I was waking every day of the tour. I woke on day 6 to a bit of drizzle, with splashes of sun and felt fantastic, despite having an OSM for breakfast. On the road and the day just got more and more lovely, with mists drifting through the lush forests on either side of me. It was chillier again, but I warmed up quickly as I cruised along listening to the morning bird song and singing to myself. In no time at all I was at Lake Moeraki, which looked lovely under grey skies. Up in the forest above the lake a group of Kaka played in the trees and I felt very lucky to have seen this. A spot of food and I was on the road again with the rain started shortly after.

Who names a creek The Windbag?

Today’s rain was gentle and pleasant and as I started the climb up to Knight’s Point I was actually loving it. It was perfect climbing weather and my new found love of climbing was rewarded with some nice undulations leading up to the lookout at Knight’s Point. I took some photo’s, but was slightly concerned about the amount of water falling on my camera, as you can see. It was amusing watching the Japanese tourists from a big bus lining up for the loos and trying to shoo the sandflies away with their umbrellas. Snickering, I headed off and had a brief chat with an English cyclist a little further up the road. Then the sun came blazing out and I took off my jacket and replaced it with the orange vest of visibility and dorkiness and continued climbing. At one point I saw a flock of at least a hundred wood pigeons. Flying together like this they actually looked graceful in the air, rather than their usual unco drunken appearance. I must have been getting hungry because they looked a bit like pies on wings to me!

Zooming down the other side of the hill and I came to Ship Creek, which was where I had my first encounter with the dreaded sandfly menace. I’d done a bit of research into the best insect repellent to use of these monsters and had decided to go for the less carcinogenic and safe for clothes and plastics concoction of a 50-50 mixture of dettol and babyoil. I’ve used this before and it seemed fine. My first mistake was heading under a shelter to apply the mixture, instead of staying out in the breeze. Hundreds of the wee buggers instantly swarmed around me and as I put my helmet on a handy table heaps of them covered it, since it was still warm and fragrant. I liberally covered all my exposed skin with my mixture and while it didn’t actually repell the bitey beasts, it did stop them biting and I was happy with that.

I headed out on the first of two walks at Ship Creek, this one taking me along the dunes to a lovely wetland that runs along the beach. It was amazing walk through such diverse ecosystems in a 20 minutes. Wind-swept sand dunes overlooking the surging west coast sea, dense reed beds opening to still fresh water, and thick native forest full of bird song and wet, green life. Amazing.

Returning to the starting point of that walk I headed off in the other direction on the swamp walk up the river. There were lots of bellbirds around, their wonderful song adding to the magic of the place. I noticed that the boardwalk at the start of this track was sitting right on the water and could see why there were signs warning it was prone to flooding. I’ve never really been into a native swamp land before and this place was amazing. The river flowed slowly by to the left with shags keeping a sentinel watch over the banks, and to the right thick forest, with water everywhere. Stretches of water were covered by bright green plants which formed a rich, luxuriant looking carpet. Moss and lichens grew everywhere and water dripped constantly. Rounding a corner in the track I came to the mighty Kahikatea stand. These are the tallest trees in NZ and their habitat is vanishing as their swamp homes are drained. The biggest of the trees was truly magnificent, reaching to the heavens with its crooked fingers, an old man of over 500yrs age.

Returning along the track I soon discovered that flooding of the boardwalk entrance was not a rare occurrence and the boards were covered with half a foot of water. No wonder I had the track to myself. I quickly disrobed my feet and waded across. The water was cold and crystal clear and on the other side I pulled my socks back on, but not high enough (my second mistake)! I discovered on returning to my bike that I’d left the level of my left sock 5mm lower than when I applied the sandfly repellent. Well actually the sandflies discovered this first. I discovered a clutch of the little shits all crammed in that tiny space feeding on me. The mixture obviously worked for me because these were the only bites I got when wearing it. After dispensing with them I sat on the beach listening to the thunderous roar of the sea. It is always so angry on the west coast, just the way I like it. Huge waves smash down on the beach, sending spray high into the air, filling the breeze with salt. Unfortunately my stomach was telling me it was time to move on, so I headed off down the road.

Not far from Ship Creek I got to Haast Junction and rolled into the pub there for a huge burger and a beer. The pub was incredibly depressing, filled with extremely old people, munching their lunches. I sat in the corner fuelling up and writing, finding the whole atmosphere surreal. I was happy to get back on the road and get to Haast a few minutes down the road. I got myself a little tin cabin at the camping ground and head to the shop for supplies. Another pleasant evening was spent reading, eating and giggling at the wood pigeons that seemed to fall out of the bush behind my cabin on to the tin roof with an almighty clatter. Later the rain started up, drumming hard on my metal roof and I drifted off to sleep before it was dark.

Lake Paringa to Haast – 55km in 3hr 27

Tour Day 5 – I’m not water soluble

2010-03-09T19:15:00.006+13:00

A band of marauding keas greeted me as I got dressed, five of them calling as they circled the town, like naughty school boys looking for mischief. Booking the room in the hostel was a great idea because I caught up on my lost sleep and felt fantastic. Another huge breakfast under the belt and I was off, trying to beat the forecast deluge of rain. It was another wonderful morning for riding, a bit chillier than any of the previous ones, but clear as a bell. Wisps of cloud clung to the valleys around me and the forest was right up to the edge of the road. Riding along I could look into its green depths and it was like looking into an impenetrable jungle, wild and untamed. The cloud soon rolled in and I donned my fluro vest as it was pretty gloomy and I was wearing a lovely green which matched the surroundings perfectly. A crystal clear stream ran beside the road and I crossed numerous gorgeous single lane bridges. The diversity and complexity of these bridges is amazing, it’s like the engineers who designed the roads and the bridges thought, “Hey, here’s our chance to try out all these fancy bridge designs we’ve been reading about!”

I stopped for a bite of morning tea off the beaten track and pushed into the bush. It was so gorgeous, verdent and sweet smelling, bursting with life, even in the decay of fallen trees. As I sat eating a delicious Summer Roll a South Island robin came and talked to me. With his silly long legs and tiny body he was adorable. (In case you hadn’t noticed earlier I’m a bit of a twitcher, or bird geek, so this trip was brilliant for me).

As I set off the drizzle started and something about it made me think this was going to go on a bit more than the previous little showers I’d experienced. Finally! I had the chance to try out my new Helter Skelter rain pants. Quickly removing my over shorts and stuffing them in my pannier and donning pants and rain coat I was ready for the West Coast rain. And it didn’t disappoint. After a few minutes the drizzle had turned into a shower and by the time I got to Bruce Bay further down the road it was pouring down. I loved it. My pants and jacket did their job and I was comfortable in the rain. I stopped at Bruce Bay to admire the beach art and scoff some sweet treats while tourists stayed bundled up in their campervans.

Unfortunately, further along the road I can across a couple of stretches of road works. The first was short and muddy and in a quick sprint it was over. The second was long and muddy, at least a kilometre of gravelly mud. I rolled up in time to see the lollypop man flick his sign from Go to Stop and didn’t relish the idea of waiting in the now very heavy and cold rain for 15 minutes while the traffic from the other end came through. Luckily the lovely man saw me, radioed through to the other end and flicked his sign to Go with a wave. I thanked him and sped off. It was nice having the whole road to myself, apart from the diggers, and rollers and bulldozers of course. These machines had very friendly drivers who all had a smile and a wave for me. Shoes and ankles covered in mud and gravel I made it to the other side after dodging uncounted potholes and commiserated with the lollypop man at this end about standing around in the rain. He offered his sympathies to me pedalling in this weather.

Not long after the road works I was whizzing over another one lane bridge when an old van pulled up behind me. I moved over as soon as I got off the bridge and off they went, only to stop 20m up the road. I cruised past slowly and the lovely Spanish (I think) boys inside offered me a lift. I thanked them, but said no, it was a lovely day for a bike ride, they probably thought I was mad. I wasn’t about to cheat just because the weather was appalling. With a friendly wave we parted and I started to notice that I was getting rather hungry. I could feel my body burning up fuel to try and stay warm and it was starting to falter. I saw a sign for a salmon farm with a cafe 5km up the road and decided that I’d be stopping there for lunch and a cuppa. By the time I got there I resembled a drowned rat and was very pleased to see that the walkway to the cafe was covered. I stowed my bike in a covered picnic area, then wrung out my socks and shook the gravel out of them. I jumped around a bit to shake off some of my excess water and to get warmer and headed inside for a pot of tea and a hot pie. Feeling slightly renewed I stowed an enormous piece of lollycake in my bag and got back on the wet road, with Paringa in my sights.

At the Lake Paringa motel I was disappointed to discover they no longer do meals, but I booked into a dorm room and spent the next 30mins in the shower thawing out. Hmmmmm hot showers are great! I then converted the bathroom into a drying room and spent a relaxing afternoon reading, writing and dozing. Not to mention eating of course. I also explored the lake edge in the rain which was very lovely. The rain was falling so hard that tiny droplets would bounce back up out of the lake and dance on the surface like tiny spheres of light. This made the whole lake seem alive.

Once my washing dried I crawled into bed, very happy to have the whole room to myself and fell asleep to the soothing hammer of the rain. I’m glad I got to experience a proper West Coast down-pour, my tour wouldn’t have been complete without it.

Fox Glacier to Lake Paringa – 71km in 3hrs 46

Tour Day 4 – They said it would be hard

2010-03-09T08:58:00.005+13:00

A shocker of a night’s sleep, was only slightly redeemed by the morning view of the glacier from my tent. Once I started moving round I felt awful and it took me twice as long as normal to pack everything away. My whole body felt like it had been infused with lead, including my brain. I pootled slowly into town and headed straight for the Speights Landing Bar and ordered myself a Miner’s Breakfast which consisted of bacon, eggs, sausage, hash browns, tomato, and pancakes with maple syrup. While waiting for it to arrive I got out my elevation map of today’s ride and felt a sense of dread. Even before I left on the tour people have been telling me how difficult the ride from Franz to Fox would be, the steep steep roads and repeated hills. In Okarito a couple of people even thought I was crazy for trying to ride over these passes on a loaded bike. All of this was not confidence inspiring and with my sleep deprivation I was feeling pretty down.

After scoffing what was the best breakfast of the whole trip I got on the road. At least it was sunny. I spun along, trying to get my body to wake up and my legs to work properly. I was envisaging a 3 or 4 hour journey to cover 23kms to Fox. Soon the first hill reared up before me and I dropped down into an easy gear and before I knew it I was at the top and, even better, I was feeling fantastic. The road was gorgeous, forest on all side, with glimpses through to valleys and distant mountains. Bird song the whole way, tui’s flitting around from tree to tree, like they were encouraging me to keep going. I flew down the other side, grinning, using the whole lane, no brakes, feeling the adrenalin thump through me. I felt like a new me.

After crossing a river I was into the next climb and a stream of cycle tourists passed me. I actually slowed right down so they’d get ahead of me, I just didn’t feel like being sociable. I did say a cheery hi to them all, but apparently they were working too hard to reply. I found this amusing. I had all day, I wasn’t pushing myself too hard, I was basically la-ing along with plenty of breath for chatting to passing cyclist, tuis or telling myself about the stunning views. I don’t really understand the smash yourself mentality when you’re doing a cycle tour. Surely the point is to be able to take in all the amazing things around you?

I had a couple of rest stops on this climb, just a couple of minutes each, sitting in the sun, looking at the views. Again I was at the top before I expected it and this descent was fantastic, 3kms flew by in a couple of minutes and me face was frozen by the wind chill as I reached speeds of 60kph. Vooooom! Then I rounded a corner and saw the final and steepest climb. My initial thoughts were, surely not, that can’t be it! Unfortunately the photo doesn’t do this zigzag justice, I had to stop and regroup before slipping into grannies and starting the spin. Once on the slope it didn’t seem so bad, harder work than anything I done previously, but not that bad. The first zig was done and now the slightly steeper zag was disappearing under my wheels. It was definitely steep and this climb seemed to just keep going, so I stopped a few more times before reaching the top with a whoop of joy.

The descent into Fox was the fastest of the day and I was buzzing once I stopped in town. Fox is not like Franz Joseph. Franz is like Queenstown, glitzified for the tourists. Fox is like Alexandra or Cromwell, it makes a bit of an effort, but has a much more local down to earth feel. I ordered myself a pizza for lunch and decided I felt so good that I would continue on to Lake Paringa after visiting the glacier. Half a pizza stowed in my panniers I headed off up the valley and as I rode I felt worse and worse. The weather had changed from bright blue sky to gloomy damp clouds and I was getting cold. I finally made it to the car park and quickly donned my orange jacket. I immediately noticed the fantastic DoC warning signs which cheered me up greatly. (They inspired this poem.) I also noticed the “Don’t feed the k eas” sign and was worried about my bike and its luggage at I started the perilsome trek to the glacier. I say perilsome (which I don’t think is actually a word, but that’s never stopped me before), as the signs warned of falling rocks, not stopping, chances of flood and various other impending dooms. Of course that didn’t stop some of the tourists wandering away from the marked track to look for pebbles. *Shakes head*

I love Fox Glacier, with its amazing blue ice and contrasting grey striations. This vast volume of water has been locked up as ice for thousands of years and now great chunks of it come free. There is a gaping maw at the toe of the glacier, not threatening to devour those that come to see this beast, but devouring the glacier itself. Great cracks and fissures climb the walls, ready to shatter at any moment. The glacier seems almost fragile at the moment, its life blood flowing down the valley. However down the valley stands testament to its awesome power, a sheer rock face that was once the inside of a mountain. Scythed through, perfectly straight and cleanly cut by this retreating shaper of worlds. Hopefully this force of nature will advance again and not be lost to future generations. The cold air of this staggeringly large mass of ice was chilling me and I left.

My bike was unmolested by keas, happily, and I zoomed off down the hill, intent on returning to Fox and finding a bed as I was actually struggling to keep my eyes open, even on the bike. On the way out I spied an old suspension bridge across the river. It is well hidden in the bush now and not very well sign posted, so I suspect it doesn’t get many visitors. Like its partner at Franz I have fond memories of this bridge from my childhood and had fun revisiting those by bouncing across the bridge and swaying to and fro above the surging meltwater river.

Back in Fox I booked a room in a backpackers and after a long hot shower to warm up went straight to bed. I slept for 3 hours solid and woke up in time to grab some food from the shop round the corner before eating leftover pizza, watching a bit of TV and zonking out again. I was very tired, but it had been a great day. I’d climbed to Fox in under 2hrs, which was a great achievement and from here on the journey would only get more and more picturesque.

Franz Joseph to Fox Glacier – 36km in 2hr 54 (500m climbing)

Tour day 3 – Mucking about in boats

2010-03-08T15:28:00.004+13:00

Being in a tent I was up with the sun and took a trip to the old boathouse overlooking the lagoon for breakfast. Mist was drifting across the water and the air smelt sweet. It was going to be a lovely day. I took some arty photos and strugged through another OSM, then I went back to my campsite. After stringing up a washing line I grabbed some money and went and hired a kayak.

I spent a tiring, but wonderful 2 and a bit hours paddling round on the lagoon. I got up close to a couple of beautiful white herons, watched dotterel's diving for fish, saw schools of fish swim under my boat and drifted up stream through narrow river bends to secret places in the forest. It was amazing paddling on beautiful clear, but amber coloured water, seeing great fallen trees under the surface like monsters of the deep. Forest birds came down to chat and it was just magical. My arms hurt by the end of my trip, but I felt energised by the wonderful serenity of splashing around in this special place.

Driven by hunger I packed up my gear and got on the road for Franz Joseph, wishing I could stay in Okarito another day. I will definitely be back there with my lovely husband and together we'll go out at night and find wild kiwi and fully explore the lagoon. And we’ll bring plenty of food! The ride up out of Okarito seemed quicker and easier than the ride in, but that probably isn’t such a strange thing. It was yet another stunningly gorgeous day with perfect blue skies above the forests around me. I stopped briefly at Lake Matheson for a nibble and a photo. I struggled to my feet at the end of the wharf and then had to sit back down so a tourist could take a photo of me. I’m so interesting! Up round the corner and I could see the snow-capped peaks of the Southern Alps and they drew me on. Then tragedy.

As I rode up a small hill and round a corner I came across more road-kill, but this looked slightly different and on closer inspection I saw it was a kiwi. I almost cried at seeing it, my first wild kiwi, crushed on the road like that. Its graceful beak crushed into its side, its neck twisted round and its delicate brown feathers wafting in the breeze. It was heartbreaking and I wanted to stop and move it off the road, but it was far too dangerous so I rode on in sadness. The only thing that lifted my spirits was my first glimpse of the mighty Franz Joseph glacier up ahead. The mighty glacier is quite a sight, even from kilometres away.

I rolled into Franz mid-afternoon, a very hungry girl, but sorted myself out an extremely expensive tent site before heading into town for food. My luck was in when I found a bar that was doing a happy hour special of $20 for a pint and a big plate of spag bol. Just what the doctor ordered. I sat outside to wait for my meal and listened to the ever present buzz of helicopters coming and going from the glacier. Being thirsty I also got stuck into my beer and before I knew it I’d drunk half a pint on an empty stomach and when I rang my hubby I found it quite difficult to speak properly. We both found this rather hilarious. The spag bol was fantastic and once I’d wolfed it down I got back on my bike and headed up the road to see the glacier.

I’ll admit the reason I missed the sign leading to the foot of the glacier was that pint of beer, but I wasn’t too worried. I had a nice hour long walk in the bush, saw the glacier from a distance, talked to the birds, and discovered the old swing bridge from when I was a kid. Back then it didn’t have all the additional support and my mum wouldn’t let us cross it, so I finally got to cross this bridge, but it wasn’t as exciting as back then.

The ride back to town was fast and downhill and after stopping at the shop for second dinner I headed back to the camp ground, ate more, did more washing and was tucked up in bed late. Again sleeping on the ground was pretty painful for my poor shoulders and chest, and this was not helped by the morepork that took up residence in the tree I was camped under, or the crying baby in another tent. Sigh. The joys of tenting.

Okarito to Franz Joseph - 40km in 2hrs 15

Tour – Day 2 The road is long

2010-03-05T16:49:00.005+13:00

Woke up still feeling tired after 11 hours of sleep. Had an OSM for breakfast and then headed a little way into the Ross Goldfields for a look, then a quick stop at the shop for supplies and I was off. Today would be the only day I'd get off the main road during the trip. I made the decision to take the coastal Bald Head Road, which was a smooth gravel road through farm land and forest. There was no traffic and with the sun rising and the birds singing it was great. So great that I broke into song for a while and then I stopped on the banks of a recently excavated stream and had second breakfast in the sun with the birds.

Back onto the main road for a stretch and first stop was Pukekura with its giant sandfly and cute baby thar. I introduced Murphy and then I was on the road to Lake Ianthe and where I stopped for some journal writing. I can tell I'm going to need to get a thesaurus before I finish my tales of this trip as I'm going to be over using adjectives like beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, amazing, breath-taking. Eighteen k's down the road I got to Hari Hari in good time for lunch and found myself a nice dry picnic table to have a wee nap on. On the way out of town my butt was getting a bit tired of Rocky so I had a horsey ride for a bit to give it a change of pace.

I was feeling pretty beat after Hari Hari and then I came to Mt Hercules, which made me laugh, but not in a good way. My first climb of the trip and I learnt a very important lesson. I liked the climbing. I like it way better than the long, straight stretches of road through farm land. I also discovered that a climb isn't that bad once you're on it. I cruised up Mt Hercules, enjoying the forest, and just gently spinning away at a comfortable pace. Before I knew it I was at the top and zooming down the other side. My butt and legs were telling me all about the climb and I stopped at a creek and soaked my feet for a while in the clear, cold water.

Onto Whataroa, where I was going to make the decision about weather to push on for the extra 25km that would see me to Okarito. As soon as I pulled into Whataroa I could almost hear the banjos playing, I was not staying there the night, it was not a nice little town. It did however have a playground from a bygone area, when slides were deadly and swings were 3 foot off the ground. You wouldn't catch me on a slide like that unless I was wearing armour, I shudder to think about it.

Fueled up on ice cream and looking forward to a meal in Okarito (oh, ho ho!) I headed off.
I'd printed elevation maps for each leg of my journey out so I could get a rough idea of what the terrian had in store for me each day and today's map showed me that the last 10kms were all down hill. I was hurting by the turn off to Okarito and mentally hurting a bit more when I saw it was 15kms, not 10 to Okarito. Then I was flying down the hill, happy as a happy thing, until the road suddenly went up and up. Then down a bit, then up some more, then a bit more up and then down. So undulations all the way. Whenever its all downhill, its not, remember that kiddies. I rolled into Okarito around 7pm and was starving and so very tired. Set up my tent and had a long hot shower, and taking a trick from Eleanor Meecham, did my washing at the same time, then explored the town. This took less than a mintue and I quickly realised there was no shop, or pub, or anything. Which meant no hot meal which was very disappointing indeed after my first ever 100km ride and OSMs, bananas and cookies for dinner were not in any way satisfying for all the hard work I'd done. I've never wanted savoury food so bad in my life, but I forced the sickly sweet OSM and a half down. My tastebuds recoiled at the sugary deluge and I couldn't taste the banana I ate afterwards so I saved the cookie.

I watched the sun set on the beach and I was so glad I'd come to this magical place. The birds calling, and the gentle wind swirling made the end of the day perfect. I felt so good that I even went for a walk up a hill through the bush, you know, just for that wee bit extra exercise.
Unfortunately sleeping on the ground was not something my injured chest enjoyed very much and it woke me many times in the night. At one point I was happy to be awake as I dashed to the loo and looked up. The stars were amazing. I haven't seen such a profusion of them since I was up at Mt Aspiring as a kid. There were so many stars that I could even see the black patches where there are nebula in the night's sky. I watched shooting stars for a couple of minutes and then snuggled back into my wee tent.

Ross to Okarito – 105km in 6hrs 37

Tour – Day 1 Drama at the train station

2010-03-05T11:37:00.003+13:00

I've heard or read somewhere that all good adventures start with a drama, although maybe that's just the romantic in me. My adventure started with a drama that could have stopped it before it even got started when there was a mess up with my ticket. Luckily a lovely ticket lady sorted me out and I was very relieved to have my bike safely stowed in the baggage car and me tucked away on the train in time for departure. I even got a window seat for this wonderful start to the journey.

Rolling through Cass on the Transalpine

Starting my tour on the train was both a practical and romantic idea. Practical because its easy to transport a heavily laden bike by train, and romantic because trains are creatures of myth and mystique. When you think of the great trains of the world, or of your fond memories of programmes like The Railway Children from when we were growing up, there was always an air of adventure about the train. And here in New Zealand trains are a rare breed so a ride on one is all the more special.

Rainbow valley

The journey over Arthur's Pass and onto Greymouth was great, with a wonderful commentary by the train manager who'd work on the railways his whole life and made no bones about making his opinions known on everything from privatisation to musicals. Just before arriving in the Pass we rolled past a valley that was filled with a rainbow and I was filled with happiness and I also realised that this means we're heading towards grey weather, and as I stepped out on the cold, damp platform at Arthur's Pass it is indeed a bit inclement. The journey to Greymouth is over soon and I'm getting my bike off the back of the train, eating a banana and hitting the road, full of emthusiasm.

Ominous Arthur's Pass

Soon the sun is out and I'm cruising along, revelling in the freedom. I stop briefly at Kumara Junction for a huge hunk of quiche and a drink and then I'm off to Hokatika. The traffic is not heavy and the milk trucks make plenty of room for me and I'm grinning. A people mover goes past me and pulls into a driveway up ahead. Two women get out and instead of going straight inside they wait till I go past them and cheer me on with calls of “go for it!” and “you're doing great”. It puts a smile on my face and I wonder if they wish they could have an adventure like this, or if I'd get the same cheers if I was with my husband or was a guy? I see some American cycle tourists coming the other way and they also offer their encouragement.

Driftwood on the beach at Hokatika

Soon I'm on the beach in Hokatika, eating a triple chocolate cookie in the sun and breathing in the salty west coast beach air. I had my only scary moment of the whole trip leaving Hokatika. Crossing the Hokatika river is a long two lane bridge with low sides. As I cycled along I realised that the guard rail was at just the right height to very effectively tip me over with my top heavy bike if I went into it. This freaked me out a bit as it was a rather substancial drop to the gravel riverbed. I moved slightly away from the rail and then a bus blasted past me at full speed, sending me wobbling towards to the rail. I remained in control, but my heart lept into my throat and I was very grateful to reach the otherside of the bridge unscathed.

Murphy and Rocky Ell take a rest on the beach - lazy!

Just after Hokatiki a “nice” strong headwind picked up and my pace slowed to a crawl, well what felt like a crawl. My legs weren't happy about the wind and Ross seemed to take forever to arrive. When it did I was relieved and splashed out $20 to stay in a cabin at the Historic Empire Hotel. After a long hot shower I had a massive feed of venison, chips and salad and a beer and was in bed asleep by 8:30pm, setting the precident for bedtime for the rest of the trip.

Very cool pub in Ross

Day 1 Greymouth to Ross 68kms in 4hr 12mins.

The Road that Lies Ahead

2010-02-24T18:08:00.001+13:00

Is going to be wet tomorrow, but no surprises there really. I’ve been lucky enough to get a long-range weather forecast from a friend and the weather looks pretty good for the trip. Yay! Here’s my route.

There are two things of import about my route. The first is that it indicates the winner of the name competition and that it Murphy (goddamitt!), so Murphy it is. Murphy Gypsy Dunlop. Secondly the little Murphys indicate my intended overnight points. My plan is for seven nights travel, although I have a contingency for 8 nights in case I want a couple of easy days from Okarito to Franz and then Franz to Fox. That aside the plan is:

Greymouth to Ross 66km
Ross to Okarito 99km
Okarito to Fox Glacier 51km
Fox to Lake Paringa 69km
Lake Paringa to Haast 52km
Haast to Makaroa 79km
Makarora to Wanaka 63km

As you can see, I’m not going out to smash myself every day and get there as fast as I can. I’m out to experience the West Coast wilderness. This itinerary should allow me time to stop and have a nosey whenever and wherever I see fit. I’m very excited. I’ve been practising being extremely itchy by being eaten by a mosquito last night which managed to bite me 8 times on my right arm before I splattered it and a horrific quantity of my blood. After getting many opinions on the subject of insect repellent I’ve gone with the home brew technique of 50-50 Dettol and baby oil, to be supplemented with long sleeves, trousers, Anthisan and Polaramine as necessary. I’m also taking plenty of Vit B, just in case. (As an aside, why is there artificial sweetener in Berroca now, it tastes awful. GRRRRRRR!)

I’m all packed. 10.5kgs (thanks for the timely advice Charlotte!) in the panniers including tent, thermarest, sleeping bag and towel; 1.5kgs in my handlebar bum bag; and two 750ml water bottles (to be refilled regularly) mean I’m not exactly travelling light. My train leaves at 8.15am tomorrow, what better way to start an adventure than on a train? I’ve got my journal so I can write up the experience as I go so expect a fairly detailed report upon my return. Actually scratch that. Expect a short synopsis and some photos on my return and then after a yet to be determined number of days, a more detailed description. Tonight I shall eat pasta and chicken and baked lemon cheese cake; hang out with my friends and my amazingly supportive husband. Then tomorrow I’ll be on my own, which is both daunting and exciting. Its over 6 years since I spent very much time completely on my own. Wish me luck and pray to the weather gods for me for tailwinds. See you in a couple of weeks!

CONTROVERSY!!!

2010-02-22T14:30:00.003+13:00

Unknowingly I have opened up a can of worms with my request for a name for my touring mascot. As I am not inflicted with little children I was not aware that my mascot is in fact something called a Wot Wot and her name is Dotty Wot. Many a parent was outraged my intention to rename her. However I am still keen to run my poll however and I have 3 submissions. Obviously Dotty is one option. The second option is Murphy and Murphy looks like this.

Image curtesy of the artist talents of Craig Tregurtha

My own suggestion is Gypsy because that’s what she is, roaming the roads of the West Coast, without a care in the world. She also knows a trick or two (like clothes herding).
So the poll is up and will remain up until Wednesday evening. Get voting, exercise your democratic right to feel you have the power to influence things you don’t really care about!

In Further News
Map reading is a skill that will come in handy for touring and I thought I’d give mine a bit of a brush up by trying out MTB orienteering for the first time. The even t was held on Sunday at Bottlelake and was heaps of fun. I only got lostish a couple of times and hubby and I had great fun sprinting our singlespeeds all over the place. We got all the points and I’d definitely be keen to do it again. Luckily there’s not much chance of me getting lost on the West Coast since I’ll be sticking to the main road 90% of the time. Only 3 days till I leave and I’m getting very excited!

Touring – Not taking the kitchen sink

2010-02-20T15:01:00.003+13:00

Being a stylish young woman, my first instinct when packing for my trip is to take plenty of changes of clothes for on and off the bike. However not wanting to carry 5kgs of clothes with me, I’ve come up with the following wardrobe that weighs in at just over 1.5kgs.

Underwear – 3 pairs sensible black pants, 2 bras

Socks – 2 short merino pair, 1 long cotton

Woollen undergarments – one singlet, one long sleeved (in case it gets really cold)

Bike shorts – 3 pairs, 2 lycra and one new exciting mesh pair

Riding tops – 1 short sleeve (red for visibility), one long sleeved (fluro green for visibility)

T-shrits – 1 martha hucker shirt because you can’t be out with your bike without one and 1 technical tee that can also be a riding top due to its wicking powers

Shorts – 1 pair long shorts with plenty of pockets

Trousers – 1 pair après riding trousers to keep the sandflies and mossies off my legs in the evenings

Warmers – 1 pair arm warms and 1 pair full length leg warmers for those chilly mornings

As you can see from the short film below I was lucky enough to catch them all practising packing themselves into my panniers. Unfortunately my merino hat, sports bra and warm gloves were too lazy to join in.

Finally the most important items for a trip to the West Coast, wet weather gear. I cannot say enough good things about my Groundeffect SheShell and my lovely new Groundeffect Helter Skelters. They both keep you dry without over heating too much and both pack down into tiny light little packages.

I hope you’ve enjoyed my first ever attempts at film making. I will update tomorrow on the search for a name for my mascot!

Touring – Very Serious preparations

2010-02-19T16:36:00.005+13:00

My training has been going well, and I discovered another not very sensible training tip while out riding in the Port Hills on Wednesday. Without a jacket or lights. The tip is: getting lost is a great way to have a longer ride than you were planning, and therefore pushing your boundaries harder. That is a good thing. What is not a good thing is if your reason for being lost is because you are inside a cloud and have zero visibility (no exaggeration, I couldn’t see more than 2m in front of me most of the time). Add to that a nasty cold wind and the afore mentioned lack of jacket and lights and you have a slightly freaky ride. Luckily I did have a base layer of wool on which saw me pretty right and I had plenty of food with me, also there wasn’t any traffic thank goodness. I was pretty disappointed when I finally popped out of the cloud and found myself heading down to Gebbies Pass. That meant an extra 35km on my ride and the weather was closing in. I stopped for a hot pie and a hot chocolate at the Blue Duck Cafe and then took off into what had become a nasty head wind. Finally I realised I was getting way too cold and rang my husband who came and picked me up from Tai Tapu with 70kms of riding under my belt for the day. Yay!!! Talk about an amateur mistake. Kiddies, always take a jacket into the hills!

Onto more exciting things, I have booked my train trip to Greymouth and my plane flight back from Queenstown. Waaaahoooo! I’m leaving next Thursday, so preparations have gone into overdrive. I went on a spending spree yesterday and acquired all the necessary things I didn’t already have. And here she is, Rocky Ell, fully kitted out and ready for the trip (disclaimer: bedroll in photo differs from actual thermarest that will be used, I haven’t picked it up yet).

From the photo you can see that I’ve kitted Rocky Ell out with a lovely new front mudguard, rear-view mirror (shudder), bike pump, and handlebar bag. I’ve also swapped out her worn grips for my plush race grips, fitted a myriad of lights and put the bottle cages off my roadie on her. And for added authenticity in this photo I’ve loaded all my clothes, my tent, sleeping bag, towel and various healing balms and pills and stuff onto her. The only thing that’s missing is food.

As you can see from the rear she is a sweet sight with reflective bits galore to grab the attention of any campervan driver.

A view of the cockpit shows my sweet bum-bag handle bar set up, newly installed speedo, double lights for penetrating the thick West Coast rain and of course my no- at-all lame rear vision mirror to keep me appraised of any rearward perils.

And finally the most important addition of all, my mascot. Now I need your help, beloved reader. I have no name for my mascot, it being a gift from my father in-law last night (I think he’s trying to tell me something about being a goat). So get those comments coming in with your brilliant suggestions. I’ll make a list out of the top 5 on Sunday evening and whack a poll up for your voting pleasure. Then on Wednesday night, on the eve of my epic (for me) journey, I’ll have a winner and an appropriate christening ceremony will take place. Thanks in advance for your help, oh intelligent and astute reader.

As well as update you on the name search, I thought I’d show you some of the gear I’m taking with me. The first instalment is:
Home away from home

Isn’t it a beauty? I have to thank my gorgeous and generous friend Sarah Smart for loaning me this veritable mansion.

You’ll notice the spacious interior with more than enough room for me and all my gear (not shown here). It has lovely indoor outdoor flow and is erectable (is that a word?) in no time at all.
Best of all it is light and easily packable when broken down into its component parts, as shown below. I look forward to spending many a comfortable (and dry, aye Sarah) night in this tent listening to the rain and, if I’m lucky, the kiwi.

So with only 6 days to go till I’m off I’ll be heading out at the weekend for some more big rides before resting up next week. Get your suggestions for a name for my mascot flooding in!

PS:The reason I've been so tardy posting recently is because I've been setting up my website to document my writing endeavours (incuding the result of this tour). Check it out at ahidingplace.com

Touring – Not very sensible training tips

2010-02-11T18:12:00.000+13:00

My “training” for my trip from Greymouth to Wanaka is going very well, and I’ve come up with some extremely helpful, but not actually sensible, training strategies. Being the extremely generous blogger that I am, I will share these great* tips with you all.

Tip 1 – 3 steps to making time for training and eliminating the need for motivation
The first step is resign from your well paying, but soul destroying job. This will take a bit of forward planning as most employers require 4 weeks notice, so you’ll need to resign about 8 weeks before your trip, if you’re not very fit, like me. Secondly ensure you take on a new career that you are passionate about, but crucially, doesn’t actually pay any money. For example, become a writer. Thirdly, injure yourself. You’ll need to be careful with this one. Ensure you injure yourself badly enough that you’ll require twice weekly physio, but not so badly that you can’t ride your bike. Find a good physio that is based far away from your home. Madness I hear you say, none of that sounds helpful at all! Well, I’m sorry to disagree with you, but you’re wrong. Let me explain the logic here. Resigning from your job frees up your time greatly. You no longer have to plan carefully to fit in that 2 or 3 hour ride. Taking on a non-paying job, such as a writer, will mean you can no longer afford to use your car to go places. Now if you have to go anywhere you’ll have to ride your bike. No more training rides, just doing your day to day errands will mean you’re out on your bike for at least an hour a day (unless you are a house bound hermit, but then you’re unlikely to be training for a bike tour). However even if you are still not getting out and about my third tip will provide all the motivation you need. Being conveniently injured and having a physio, say 22kms away will provide you with a 2 hour round trip that you have to take. Note: it is important that any physio you see is good at what they do, you don’t want to be wasting money you don’t have much of, and they must also be okay with treating you when you arrive sweaty after your ride there. You don’t need to be motivated, you have to go to your appointment and since you’ve got two appointments a week you’ll be seeing results in no time!

Tip 2 – Follow rivers
If you’re following the instructions in Tip 1 then this tip will enhance its effectiveness. When planning a route somewhere you have to go, on your bike because you can’t afford to use the car, try and follow any rivers where possible. Not only with this provide you with a picturesque ride, but rivers are head strong buggers and tend to meander where they feel. This will extend your journey without you really noticing as you cruise along beside your lovely river.

Tip 3 – Lose weight
Those of you who train for racing will be well aware that when you’re training for speed you have to fuel probably. I’ve discovered that I don’t have to worry about this so much when going out for sifty long rides. I recommend for a two hour ride taking a bottle of water. For a three hour ride throw a muesli bar in your back pocket, take a full bottle of water and half a bottle of something with electrolytes like Replace. If you’re lucky you may even find that when you finish riding you’ll have worked hard enough that you actually don’t feel like eating. Any weight you lose now will make life much easier on the road (where you should eat as much as you can).

Tip 4 – Take a yoga class
But not just any yoga class, make the venue is up a big, steep hill. You’ll have “fun” riding there for the class and the class itself will be even more challenging with some climbing in your legs.

Tip 5 – Get sadistic friends
Your training has been going well so far and all the above tips have been helping a lot. This final tip with give you that extra strength that you need at the end of a long day in the saddle and there’s a hill in front of you. Try heading out for a roadie ride with a friend. Ideally this friend will be slightly faster than you and will be training for a race, rather than just pootling along. For added benefit it would help if this friend lives at least 10km away from you, so you have extra to ride. Ride to your friend’s house and then head out for a 30km loop. You’ll be nicely warmed up from your 10km ride so you’ll feel like things aren’t so bad at the start. However once your friend warms up she’ll (or he’ll) smash you good and proper. Of course once they’ve finished smashing you they’ll be at home, but you’ll still have that extra 10kms to ride. It’ll help.

With these helpful tips at your disposal you’ll be ready for your 450km ride in no time! If you have any equally helpful tips feel free to share them.

Making a new friend

2010-02-01T08:12:00.002+13:00

I would like, if I may, to introduce you to my new little friend. And to apologise for that terrible mish-mash of movie references. This is Rocky El!
I was thinking of nicknaming her El Rocky, but I like the cuss-like version better, because I’m sure over the coming months I will both love and hate her. Rocky El is a loaner bike from my lovely friend Lisa. Lisa has done a wee bit of cycle touring in her time, riding over big pointy mountains in Europe and smaller pointy mountains here in NZ. Therefore I know that Rocky will look after me.

I’ve started making a few mods to her, my seat, course, my pedals and for something a little different the front wheel of hubby’s old Kona which is pretty much brand new and has a much better braking surface that Rocky’s old, slightly groovy surface. Rocky El has also got some lovely skinny tyres now and will also be getting the lovely new grips off the Anthem in the not too distant future. I’ve got the loan of some panniers which I’ll hopefully be getting my mits on this week. Lisa has warned me not to do much practise with the panniers fully loaded and I’m going to heed her wise words, but I would like to do a bit of practise just to get a feel for them.
Riding wise, it hasn’t been too exciting of late. Lots and lots of riding on the road on Rocky to make sure she’s set up right and to get used to it. I’m aiming to go car-free as much as possible over the coming weeks so I get a taste of riding everyday and put some distance in my legs. This is helped by my twice weekly physio appointments which a convenient 45km round trip. Speaking of which it’s time I got ready to get on the bike and head over there. I’m looking forward to a sunny cruise along the river and then I might just head home via Sumner if I’m feeling up to it. I sense I’m going to be aching to hit the dirt very soon.

It’s been a looong time

2010-01-20T10:02:00.003+13:00

Hellooooooooo, is there anyone out there? I’m back! I know I’ve been terrible neglecting my blog for so long. Things have been interesting. I now have a whole new and non-paying career, as a writer. Yes, I know, surely that would mean more blog updates, not less? Well, it was a bit of difficult transition, but normal service will now resume.

A quick catch up. Before Christmas, I was getting very excited about the Novices and Has-beens downhill race that Gravity Canterbury was running. I even got some very cool spokey dokeys and googles for the occasion. Unfortunately 2 days before the race I clipped one of the narrow gates at the bottom of Vic Park and smashed into the ground. Hard. And things went POP! Luckily I hadn’t broken anything, but I had sprained various ribs and things in my chest and neck region so once more riding was not looking good for Christmas. This is becoming a very bad habit. After a few days of lying about trying to heal and ingesting lots of painkillers we headed down to Alexandra.

I was still entertaining thoughts of racing at Bannockburn on the 30th of December, but a little 26km ride on the river track on Christmas morning put pay to that idea. Too owie! We did manage to do a bit of riding in Central. A very cool jaunt up Lake Roxburgh on fun and techy singletrack.

A cruise around Conroys Dam and a play at the vey cool BMX track in Alex, which unfortunately resulted in very sore ribs for me again. I just couldn’t help myself and hit some rollers a bit fast and, well, things went a bit pear shaped meaning I had to absorb a lot of energy with my front forks and arms. Muppet. Since returning to sunny (hah!) Christchurch I’ve been taking it pretty easy with some roadie rides and singlespeed blasts to get my chest back in working order. My fitness is not very fantastic, as a 36 minute lap of the 3.5km loop of Living Springs showed me. Shame! However I do have plans for this year. And they are a bit different from the last couple of years.

Since the Moa Hunt, I’ve kind of lost my racing buzz. I think I’ll still do some races and very much hope to do the Singlespeed Champs in Queenstown, but my focus at this stage is doing a cycle tour of the West Coast. I plan to ride from Greymouth to Wanaka by myself, unsupported. I’ve got myself the loan of a touring bike and some panniers. I’ve got lots of advice from friends and I’m more excited about this than any of the other riding I’ve been doing. It’s a very long way, 458ish kilometres, with some big BIG climbs, however it is through some of the most beautiful countryside NZ has to offer. I’m giving myself a generous 14 days to accomplish my mission, which should give me plenty of time to spare. Now I just need to start assembling my travelling kit and start practicing riding a heavily laden bike. Fun times.

Channelling Julie Andrews

2009-12-10T12:39:00.002+13:00

Sky larks and soldiers and walkers with big dogs
Blusterous winds and zephyrs of sea fog
Sweat from my brow that makes my eyes sting
These are a few of Rapaki’s things

Dust clouds and dry grass and stones under feet
Magpies circle and unrelenting heat
Gates held open by blue plastic string
These are a few of Rapaki’s things

Sore legs and tussocks and passing smiles
Deserted benches and blue skies for miles
Sheep that are munching on nettles that sting
These are a few of Rapaki’s things

Ok, that was a teensey bit sad, but yesterday on the hills that’s what I had going through my head. Luckily for me my fitness is now so rubbish that I didn’t have enough breath to be singing it aloud. And why do I have so little fitness now? Well at the risk of making false assumptions, like Julie Andrews, I just don’t have any biking mojo at the moment. Since the fateful Moa race I’ve been out an various bikes a few times. I’ve been singlespeeding at McLeans, shuttling Vic Park on my bouncier bike and doing a bit of XC riding and pretty much all these rides have left me feeling a bit meh.

What has happened???

I think the weather is playing a part. Gloomy overcast days that even Mary Poppins herself couldn’t whisk away with a cheery song. It is meant to be summer and the hills should be alive with the sound of music. That music being the crunch of gravel under wheels, the click of gear changes, the squeal of poorly aligned brakes and the rasp of ragged breathing. Instead sheep graze undisturbed and puddles form on the sweet singletrack. *insert immature raspberry blowing noise here*

I did have a great deal of fun watching the crazy downhillers throwing themselves down the side of Vic Park on Sunday. It was great watching people riding stuff that scares the whiskers on kittens out of me. And excitingly Gravity Canterbury is having a novice race on the 20th of December. I think I might have to have a go and if you’re a chick who’s interested in giving it a go on nice easy, flowing tracks I’d encourage you to give it a go too!

Yesterday’s ride up Rapaki was hot with a nor’ wester blasting the hills, and at one point I did almost get blown off the Traverse by a particularly strong gust. It was hard work, but it was really good to be out on the bike again. The grey skies today are a little disconcerting, but I know it’s going to be a sunny weekend and it’s time to put the grins back into my riding. Hmmmm, what fun shall I get up too? While I ponder that, here’s a little treat for you, my favourite ever Julie Andrews song, with the Muppets of course!