An Australian Triathlon

The first triathlon may have been held in California in 1974, but Aussies and Kiwis have more or less dominated the sport since. Consider that even with a population about one fiftieth of America's, New Zealand still sent the same number of triathletes, based on rankings and qualifying events, to the Beijing games (six) as America did. Australia wasn't far behind with five.

I can't tell you why exactly the Aussies are such good triathletes, but I suspect it has something to do with them being born with gills and thus being phenomenal swimmers. Oh, and half of them live within 8 miles of the ocean. That and the fact that the phenomenal weather makes it enjoyable to train year-round and that tan people are always fast.

If you follow the summer Olympics at all (which I do some years), you know that the Australians are always a force to be reckoned with in the pool. Since the first event in the triathlon is the swim, and swimming is one of those skills best acquired sometime before birth (whereas running and biking skills can be granted to anyone willing to suffer through enough endurance and speed work), I suspect this has something to do with the Aussie's advantage

Regardless of the reasons for their strength in triathlons, I got to see the madness firsthand at the seaside town of Mooloolaba (pronounced Muh-LOO-luh-buh) during their annual triathlon.

Keep in mind that this isn't your little Beaver Lake Triathlon over in Sammamish, where you can register the day of the race and mere mortals fill most of the ranks.

No, this is a triathlon with over 5000 participants that features both an "elite" and an "open" division in the morning's competition (in addition to all of the age-groupers). And then, in the afternoon, they have a completely separate race and course for profressionals (i.e. Olympians) from all over the world. (This is for reasons unclear to mortals like me. The distances are the same - surely professionals can handle the same course that amateurs do?). So yes, this is pretty serious.

I've raced in a couple of smallish triathlons and managed to finish in the top 2 in my age group each time despite hating swimming more than, say, brussel sprouts. (A blessedly short swim helps here.) But I can say with confidence that I would be lucky to finish in the top half of an Australian tri.

If you've gone to a local triathlon, you've probably seen some really fit people. The kind of people you see on the cover of Triathlete magazine. But the rest of the crowd is usually somewhere between weekend-warrior and ooh-I-didn't-need-too-see-that-in-a-wetsuit.

In Australia they have enough people in one race to make the cover of Triathlete magazine from now until, say, we establish a colony on Mars. It's just that ridiculous.

Considering this, I was very impressed (and proud!) that my cousin Mindy managed to finish significantly higher than dead-last as she had feared (and much closer to the middle of the pack) in her second triathlon. But she would have actually finished in the top half of the race if she had finished with the same time at, say, the Black Diamond Triathlon here in Washington. This despite crazy downpours during the bike, murky river waters, and not being born with gills.

Best of all, check out her smile on the run (after nearly being drowned by her competitors in the swim and the torrential downpours on the bike)! W00t!

First full day in Oz: Rain, Roos, and Rugby

While dealing with the rain on the Routeburn track in the southern end of New Zealand, I was looking forward to visiting the Sunshine Coast in Australia, which boasts 300 days of sunshine per year.

It turns out that when you throw a couple of cyclones off the coast, the weather goes a bit sideways and the beautiful sunshine is interrupted every 30 minutes for a dose of rain. We still had fun, both indoors and out, regardless.

After a very wet run, Jay, Mindy, and I headed to Mooloolaba so that Mindy could pick up her race packet for the next day's triathlon, a huge event with about 5,000 age-group competitors and a world cup event in the afternoon for the pros.

We had a nice driving tour of the area in the afternoon, which included a stop at the local university to look for kangaroos. It seemed fitting that we found them at the athletic complex, on and around the track. Along the drive we stopped at Maleny Cheese factory, Lake Baroon, and Kondalilla National Park, home to the 84-meter Kondalilla Falls.

After picking up some more meat at the grocery store, Jay and Mindy grilled and steamed and baked up an Australian feast of pumpkin, corn, sweet potato, crocodile sausage, beef steak and kangaroo!

With very full bellies Jay tried to explain the rules of AFL rugby (Australian Football League) while watching a game on TV. It's an amazing game that features some of the most impressive athletes I've ever seen: most of the players play for the entire 2-hour game of nonstop action. Players need to be tough (tackling is legal), good with their hands, arms, and feet (drop-kicking is one of the ways to pass to a teammate), and able to run... and run... and run... It looks tough but really fun!

It was an early night to bed (around 9 p.m.) - we had to wake up at 4:40 a.m. the next morning!

The leaves are starting to fall...

... Along with acorns, chestnuts, and things of that ilk. It seems an
appropriate season to leave a county, but that doesn't mean I'm not
sad to go. I've gotten to know Christchurch a bit in the last two days
and will miss its bike lanes, architecture, stellar museums (don't
miss the Canterbury Museum if you visit), great sunsets, parks, and
people.

Yesterday's "long bays" bike ride was fantastic, as was my stop at a
local bakery and the Rita Angus exhibit at the Art Gallery. I was
happy that donations to the museums I visited were optional but more
than happy to make the suggested $5 donation.

I found about a million outdoor stores in a 2-block area in
Christchurch, all of them with some sort of sale going on, so I took
advantage of the opportunity to make some upgrades to my wardrobe.
It's funny how you can get tired of that one pair of pants after 26
days... (and what a variety of stains can be collected).

So it's time to pack up the bike, have my last dinner here, meet up
for coffee with some bike tourists I met a couple of weeks ago, and
say goodbye to my little host family.

But I think I'll always have New Zealand on my short list of places I
want to be.

Landed safely in Christchurch

I have to admit - I was a bit overwhelmed when I arrived in Christchurch. Cars, cars, and more cars... and busses... I got off my bike and was wandering around looking for an information center or other clue as to where I might find a hostel when a man on his bike asked if I was an American.

It turns out I had inadvertantly run into an ex-pro American cyclist who recognized my Excel Sports cycling shorts. He said that he might be able to offer me a place to stay, but that it was complicated because he and his wife had two new puppies in the house and had just had a guest from Mexico...

Long story short, for the time being at least I'm staying in their little "garattage" (as Kelly would call it) with a real futon bed! Compared to camping or hostel dorms, this is luxury!

I bought some groceries for dinner and we enjoyed steak and corn from the barbecue and ice cream for dessert while Didi and I each had a puppy in our laps (OK, that wasn't until after we finished eating).

John's going to point out some cycling routes for me - unfortunately he has to head to the north island for work for the next couple of days. John and Didi have been in NZ for a few years, and John is now working and studying in the field of traffic engineering and planning.

But long story short, I'm in a very happy place and will soon be sound asleep!

Murphy's law of sunblock application

You can get all of your exposed skin some of the time and you can get
some of your exposed skin all the time, but you can't get all of your
exposed skin all the time.

Some funny things happened on the way to Mt. Somers today

Tonight I find myself in the pleasant and tiny village of Mt. Somers, tap-tap-tapping on my iPhone at a public campground that I'm sharing with just three other parties. But some slightly bizarre things happened on the road today. Most of which would never happen in Seattle, at least.

Funny thing Number 1: A house drives down the road.

Sure, I've seen the occasional double-wide (or whatever you call them)
rolling down I-5, but this was a real, honest-to-goodness, two-lane-
wide House. The interesting bit was that this was a 2-lane road. So
yes, oncoming traffic had to STOP and PULL OVER to let the house pass.
And yes, this was a HIGHWAY. I think this sort of thing would drive
American drivers to road rage, but apparently it's not uncommon here.

Funny thing Number 2: Susan races a
Tractor.

As I paused at the top of a hill a bit before the town of Geraldine to take a picture of a WWI monument (why are there so many around here?), a very wide tractor (taking up more than a full lane) cruised by on the highway at about 15 mph. I didn't think much of it until I got back on my bike and started cruising downhill.

It didn't take long before I caught up to him. He waves me on and I quickly crossed the solid yellow line, pedaled like mad to pass, and then back onto the left side of the road. Phew! Now the challenge was to stay ahead of him so that we wouldn't have to replay that scene over and over again.

Sure enough, as I cranked up the next hill, I could hear him
approaching, but I emerged victorious! and never heard him again.
Little did expect that it wouldn't be my last race of the day.

Funny thing Number 3: My bike computer comes back to life

The last time my bike computer (which tells me how fast and how far
I've ridden) actually worked at all was March 6. I believe that a
small crack in the screen allowed some moisture to get in, which
caused it's demise. I had actually been liking the fact that I didn't
know how slow I was riding, but today I started thinking that I really
should replace it... For use on training rides at home, if nothing
else... And it was literally within a few miles of thinking this that
it magically came back to life! Which was handy for funny thing
number four.

Funny thing Number 4: the race against the Labrador retrievers

I've had dogs chase my bike before (though not on this trip) and the
scene usually ends with a dog either respecting Susan's yells to "go
home, stupid dog" or a tired dog on the side of the road. This time
things ended a bit differently.

When I saw two dogs jump out on the road I greet me, I didn't think
much of it. They ran in front of me, I avoided them, and they were
quickly out of sight (I had a slight downhill, so I wasn't moving too
slowly).

So it was with some surprise that I discovered they had caught up and
were running along beside me a minute later! And they kept running...
And running...

Thanks to my recently-revived bike computer, I can tell you that they
were running faster than 15 mph (that's sub-4-minute-mile pace for you
runners) for about two miles! They ran to my left... And then to my
right... as cars an even a bus rolled past!

Afraid that they'd be hit, I yelled at them repeatedly to go home!
What was I supposed to do? At this point I didn't even know where
they lived...

The fourth or fifth vehicle that passed us (it wasn't a very busy
road) was a truck that passed by and then pulled over. Uh oh. Was the
driver going to yell at me because he thought they were my dogs? (I've
had this happen while running).

Not at all! He opened up the back of the truck and one of the dogs
actually ran into my bike in its eagerness to get in.

I pulled over as well, full of curiosity.

"Those guys are fast," I said, in as complimentary a tone as I could
muster.

"Yup."

"What kind of dog are they?" I asked, wondering if they chased sheep
or hunted pigs for a living.

"Labradors."

He didn't seem to be in the mood for a chat, so I rolled off down the
road, more questions forming as I pedalled.

How did he know his dogs had taken off down the road? Was he even the
owner, or just a friendly neighbor who happened to see what was going
on?

And most importantly, how fast can those dogs run a mile? I bet they
could give a greyhound a run for their money.

Doing the Time Warp, or: How not to design a watch

After my last night on the Routeburn, I was scheduled to meet a
shuttle to the Milford Sound at 7:45 at the end of the trail. This
simply meant that I would have to get an early start (by 6:45), about
a half hour before first light and a good hour before sunrise.

Like most digital watches, mine has an alarm feature (actually, it
allows you to set TWO separate alarms, should you need them). I've
used it to wake me up it the past, so it was with confidence that I
set my alarm and headed to bed around 10 p.m.

I was so confident, in fact, that I told the couple that was staying
in the hut with me that night that I would wake them up when I headed
out, since they wanted to wake up at 6:45.

Of course, as tends to happen when I'm sleeping in a hut of tent or
when I need to get up early for an important occasion, I woke up
several times during the night and checked the time just in case my
alarm hadn't gone off for some reason. Each time I turned on its
backlight. 3 AM, 4 AM, 5 AM... until eventually my alarm did go off
and it was time to get ready.

I breakfasted, went to the bathroom, packed up all of my things... As
might be expected, I was still half-asleep in the dark hut and it took
a while to get ready.

One of the last things I did before I took off was take a pill, and I
checked the day of the pill against the day of
the week on my watch. Oddly, they didn't match. It was supposed to be
Friday, but my watch said Thursday... March 10. (It was actually the
20th). Somehow I had switched to the alternate time zone on my watch
in the middle of the night!

It was with a sinking feeling that I switched back to the correct time
zone. Shite. Instead of 6:30, the time was actually 3:30. Time to
unpack everything again an attempt to get a couple more hours of
shuteye. I could hear that couple trying to figure out why I had
gotten up so ridiculously early.

Here's the thing: this problem is almost designed to happen with my
watch! (Thanks, Nike!) Just one 2-second press on the lower-right-
hand button will switch time zones for you. I had taken off my watch
and when I went to turn on the backlight, I had accidentally been
holding the watch upside-down. So when I pressed what I thought was
the upper-left-hand button (the backlight) I was actually switching
time zones! Argh!

Things definitely could have been worse: the alternate time zone could
have been three hours in the other direction!

And now I have a new interview question!

Silly limericks written in the Lake Mckenzie Hut

What does a hiker do when it's raining out an she's tired of reading
(and her hiking partner is napping)? It was the day after St.
Patrick's Day, so writing limericks was the answer! Apologies to the
nation of Ireland for the terrible quality of these...

Each day the weatherman chooses
A forecast to cause pain and confuse us.
He said it'd be hot
But look what we've got -
Soaked packs and soggy wet shoeses.

The Routeburn's a very nice track.
Perhaps some day I'll go back.
When it's not forecast to rain,
The snorers aren't a pain,
And sandflies aren't on the attack.

The Swiss are great engineers.
In bridge-building they have no peers.
They make chocolate that's great,
Their cheese is first-rate,
The're also great drinkers of beers.

(Jonas carried beers with him on his hikes)

On the dry side of the mountains

After reuniting with my bike in Wanaka (I got a ride from a couple I met while kayaking on Milford Sound, which made the trip from Te Anau much faster than I had planned), I started heading towards Omarama. It's 111 km from Wanaka, so I knew that the chances of me getting there before dark weren't too high (I didn't get started until 2:30 p.m.). And indeed, with some harsh headwinds, I realized by the time I got to Tarras that I didn't have a chance. Since there really isn't much civilization between Wanaka and Omarama, I opted to camp at a road-side picnic area.

Unsure about the legality of my chosen campsite, which happened to be right next to a pretty creek and across the road from some cool cliffs, I made sure I stayed out of sight.

My route from Wanaka to Christchurch is on the east side of the mountains, along State Highway 8. The weather patterns here are similar to those in Washington state - the west side of the mountains are very wet, predominantly forests and rainforests, while the east side of the mountains are quite dry. Indeed, the last two days have been very sunny and today looks like the trend will continue.

As you might expect, with such dry weather, the temperatures are less moderate - the days are quite warm and the nights much cooler than they were along the coast. In fact, I woke up on Sunday with a tent coated with frost. And the water in my water bottles was half frozen. Unfortunately, my feet were also half-frozen by the time I woke up... and they remained little footsicles until I stopped for some lunch along the side of the road at noon.

My objective for the day was Lake Tekapo, about 150 km of cycling, and I arrived here at about 6 p.m., after stops in Omarama (known for its glider flying, although I didn't see any flying yesterday) and Twizel, a humble town that had been built up when plans for a hydroelectric plant were in the works, but is now a quiet place with plenty of "vacancy" signs at their motels.

Lake Tekapo is a popular place for fishing and boating, and the other big attraction is the Mt. John observatory just down the road. Of course, the dry weather and clear skies here make it ideal for an observatory.

I almost bought into the night trip to the observatory, but in the end opted to save my $70 and avoid the tourist trip. I felt like my tourist activities in Te Anau (kayak trip on the Milford Sound and boat trip to the glowworm caves) were enough for a few days. After all, I had my own unused star-chart and there was an open field near the village center...

So I bought some hot chocolate mix and cookies, packed up my sleeping bag and stove, and headed to the empty field. My plan backfired slightly when my lighter wouldn't light, but fortunately it wasn't as cold as the previous night, and I was able to identify plenty of constellations: the southern cross, canis major, centaurus, carina, and plenty of others that I'd never heard of before. Orion, Gemini, and some other constellations that are visible in the northern hemisphere are also visible here.

I'm aiming to reach Christchurch either tomorrow night or the day after. It's only about 240 km away, and I only have about 96 hours remaining in this country, so I'm hoping to get there soon so that I can make a couple of fun day trips from the city... as well as find a cardboard bike box to pack my bike in!

So with that, it's time to post this and hit the road!

A vacation!

Three days on the Routeburn were easy enough that it really felt like a vacation. Okay, maybe not so much the second day when it was pouring rain, but even then we arrived at the hut by 12:30 and had a nice nap after lunch.

Jonas (from Switzerland, who I met on the hike to the French Ridge by Mt. Aspiring) and I happened to both be on the Routeburn at the same time, and since we were hiking at about the same pace, we ended up hiking most of it together. He stayed at the Routeburn Falls Hut on the first night while I stayed at the Routeburn Flats hut, but it's just a couple of km up the trail from the flats, so we joined up again at the falls on the second day.

The Routeburn is only 32 km, so it couuld be done in one or two days by the ambitious hiker, but since I didn't know exactly what the trail would be like, I decided to take the standard amount of time.

Day 1

We started hiking around 2:15 p.m. on a sunny Tuesday, and we arrived at the flats at 3:45. After we had some snacks at the picnic area and Jonas was nearly eaten alive by sandflies, Jonas headed up to the falls and I went for a hike on the trail down the north fork of the Route Burn. In about 3 hours of walking I only saw one other person! It was a nice mix of beech forest and open grasses. The views of the glacier above were delightful.

That night I started chatting with a couple from Whitefish, MT, and it turns out that they're good friends with my friend Tyler Hope! It really is a small world.

I was hoping to use my brand new southern hemisphere star chart to figure out some of the southern constellations that night, but the clouds were starting to roll in...

Day 2
The forecast for Wednesday was "some showers", but in our 4+ hours of hiking, it just rained and rained and rained... Sadly, by the time we arrived at the Lake Mackenzie Hut, both my headlamp and point-and-shoot camera (which were in the pockets of my goretex jacket) no longer worked. The headlamp came back to life, and I'm still holding out a bit of hope that my camera will do the same after it fully dries out.

After some lunch and a nap and some reading (The Fellowship of the Ring), I noticed that it had stopped raining, so I put on my (wet) shoes and tromped up the trail we had come down to see what I could see and to take some pictures. I didn't get all the way up to the Harris Saddle, but I was able to see all the way to Milford Sound once I got up above treeline and had rounded the corner.

After dinner, Jonas and I joined a couple from Australia & Wales for some card games. We played three different games, each from a different person. Good times!

Day 3
It wasn't raining when I woke up, so when Jonas arose, he quickly got ready and we were on the trail in no time, hoping to walk as far as possible without rain. There were showers off and on during our walk to the Howden Hut, but nothing serious, and we were mostly dry when we arrived at Howden at 10:45.

After some coffee (thanks, Jonas) and biscuits (yum), we headed up to the Key Summit and did the self-guided nature walk. We laughed at the supposed view of Lake Marian (we could only see clouds) but had fun identifying some of the plants in our little brochure and learning about the history of the area.

After returning to the Howden Hut and lunching and reading for a bit, it was time for Jonas to head to the end of the trail to catch his bus. I decided to head down the Greenstone/Caples track to see what I could see in that direction. It was a pleasant walk through beech forest and had some nice views of the lake and mountains around there on my way to and from the McKellar hut.

That night there were only three of us staying at Howden, and I certainly learned a lot about sweet-potato farming and hunting from Barry and Shawna Judd, who own a fishing and hunting shop at the north end of the north island. Once again I was impressed by the friendliness of New Zealanders!

Racing from one trek to the next

Last night I did some research online and I think I've figured out a
way to start the Routeburn Track (a Great Walk) this afternoon (a 2-
night, three day trip), then meet up with a kayak guiding company for
a day of kayaking on Friday). I had originally booked the Routeburn
starting on Thursday (today is Tuesday), but I was doing some planning
last night and realized that there is still lots that I'd like to see
and do here in NZ before I leave. For example, I'd love to check out
the east side of Arthur's Pass after I reach Christchurch.

So right now I'm on a bus to Queenstown (a 2-hour ride from Wanaka)!
Soon to be followed by a shuttle to the routeburn track, another 2-
hour ride. With luck I should get to my first hut just in time for
dinner!

For the last 2 days I've been hiking near Mt. Aspiring. I got up to
the French Ridge Hut around 4:30 in the afternoon on Sunday and then
headed up the ridge to check out the views before dinner - stellar
views of glaciers. The hike to the hut itself was interesting and
varied - through fields along a river for a couple of hours, then
through forests near the river, and them straight up through the trees
(root belays aplenty!) to the treeline.

The 5 of us had a great time at the hut that night (it's designed to
hold 22 people) - Nigel the pilot from the UK, Jonas the student from
Switzerland, Randall the hut warden from Sunapee, NH (he also lived in
Leavenworth, WA), and his new South African-turned-Kiwi wife Amanda.

Yesterday Jonas, Nigel, and I all had arranged to catch the shuttle
back to town (unfortunately the latest was at 3:30) so we were on a
mission to get down to the car park in time. We made it with time to
spare and Jonas and I even jumped in the Matukituki River on the way
back (Nigel couldn't be bothered to take his boots off).

I can't wait to share photos, but I've been short on time and/or
conputer in the last few days! The weather has been great the last
several days, but it sounds like we're going to have a change in that
in a couple of days, so perhaps I'll spend a rainy day in an Internet
cafe. :)

Dear Mr. Bruce Ringer

I noticed today in your book Bike New Zealand that you described the
section between Wanaka and Hawea as "dips 3 km... Then gradually rises
for 8 km.". You then describe the section from Hawea to The north end
if Lake Wanaka as "gradually rising" and "undulating".

For a small fee, I would be happy to let you use my own adjectives to
describe the hills in this section, such as "unrelenting", "painful",
or even the phrase "the worst bloody hills you'll see on this 14-day
tour."

I have some 4-letter words that would be fitting as well, but for
those i'll have to charge double.

-Susan

P.S. Beautiful country you've got, and clever how you use sandflies
to keep the tourists from coming back!

Watch out, Michael Phelps

No, I don't mean to say that I'll ever win any sort of award for
swimming, Olympic or otherwise. I'm referring to all of the hype
regarding Mr. Phelps' diet during the Beijing Olympics last summer. All I have to say is that those people who were ooh-ing and aah-ing over the number of calories he consumed have never seen a cycle tourist eat.

Let's take yesterday as an example. I put in a "mere" 110 km (70
miles) on the bike yesterday, but that was still about 5.5 hours of
steady cycling (with some steep hills). Let's say I'm burning 500
calories per hour (I suspect it may be more), and there's 2800
calories - or about 12 cliff bars - up in smoke (or, er, sweat).

Here's the thing: bike tourists are constantly on the move from town
to town. And we're cheap. We don't take the time to make fancy
breakfast sandwiches or smoothies, and we can't carry bowls of pasta
in our panniers (too messy! And heavy!). Even if things such as clif
bars existed in this country, I'm not about to spend $20 per day on
snack food. Instead I've been going for foods with a high density of
calories per ounce and calories per dollar: cookies, cheese, and fish
& chips. (I can hear my nutritionist Grandma Ashlock rolling in her
grave.)

Sure, fish & chips don't pack well, but in the UK and New Zealand,
they're the ultimate in calories per dollar. Yesterday, upon arrival
in Haast - after checking in but before showering - I bought what must
have been about 1500 calories worth of fish & chips for three U.S.
dollars. The scary thing is that I was hungry again less than an hour
later (I had had a light lunch, so I was apparently in some severe
caloric deficit). When I did pick up dessert (ice cream and a tasty
soft drink) and food stores for the next day's ride, I managed to
inadvertantly consume most of those stores by the end of the night.
That is, a king-sized Snickers bar and 9 toffee cookies (I'm quickly
working through all of the varieties of biscuit in this country).

The shocking thing to me is that despite all of this gluttony is that
I'm pretty sure I've already lost a few pounds in my 10 days here. I
think it's time for me to start marketing my new fad diet!

Stealing a page from the Dixie Chicks

After a lackluster day on Thursday (which I'll chalk up to exhaustion/burnout/lack of sleep/overcast skies), Friday dawned bright and clear, and after lying in my tent for 11 hours, I think I had recovered some much-needed energy. For whatever reason, I ended up with a Dixie Chicks song in my head:

Some days you gotta dance,

Live it up when you get the chance.

When the world ain't makin' no sense,

Then you're getting just a little too tense.

You've gotta loosen up those chains and dance!

I opted to interpret "dance" as "go on a helicopter ride and land on a glacier." I mean, when was the last time I had a chance to do that? (Never). And Fox Glacier wasn't nearly as overrun with tourists as Franz Josef had been, so I wasn't quite so revolted by the idea. And I wouldn't want to disappoint the folks back home (especially the ones from Flight Sim).

So after a late bit o' brekkie (I had slept in until 8) I headed over to the campground office, which also served as a booking office for area attractions. Indeed, there was a $90 USD 20-minute flight taking off at 10 with an opening. Sold!

The flight was wonderful. My favorite part was the descent, since we flew low over the icefall area of the glacier. It wasn't as rewarding as having hiked up there myself, but the thrill of the flight itself was something I hadn't quite experienced before.

After the flight I got on my bike around 11 a.m. Well rested and excited about riding again, I zoomed down the 110 km to Haast and even had enough energy for the 14 km side-trip to Haast beach at sunset. It was one of those perfect days...

Be careful out there...

Until yesterday I hadn't seen any cyclists headed in my direction (south) along the coast (which, in addition to the headwinds, made me think I was definitely headed the wrong way), but when it rains, it pours... first I passed a young man on the road (cute, but moving so slowly it never would have worked out), and near Lake Moerakai, when I stopped to get some water, I met two women from Ohio, also headed south.

They started back on the road before me, but we agreed that we should try to meet up in Haast that evening. I wanted to hear all the details of their trip, etc.

Things got a bit more interesting when I talked to the man at the lodge there and he called to make a reservation for me at the same backpackers lodge that the Ohio women were staying at. "The guy down there says that there's a cold stubby waiting for you if you get down there before those women."

It was with some vim and vigor that I set off down the road. A race for beer! I hardly ever drink beer, but when it's a prize on a hot day...

It didn't take too long before I passed them - on one of the three large hills between the lake and Haast. So I enjoyed a bit of my beer when I reached Haast wolfed down some fish and chips, and ran into the women when I returned to the hostel to shower (food before hygiene!).

I asked the first woman how their ride was and got news that the other had had a crash. She had moved left on a downhill to let a car pass, and hit a hole in the edge of the road, and had gone down into the ditch. The road rash was baaaad. Her left eye was swollen. Her jaw was swollen. And her bike was in even worse shape. The fork was bent back.

Ugh.

The worst part is that I know it could have been me pretty easily. The drivers here are usually very good about giving me plenty of room, and I stay well away from the edge of the road on the steep, windy descents... but who says there won't be a hole in the road I can't dodge for some reason? Or an aggressive oncoming driver passing on his uphill?

Be careful out there, biker friends! I know I'll be more cautious from now on...

What the heck is this thing?

Last night, just as I was starting to doze off at 9 p.m., I heard some rustling... and then some very LOUD rustling... VERY CLOSE!

It sounded like something was going for my food bag, so I unzipped the door to the vestibule, and grabbed ahold of the bag. Something (pretty strong!) pulled back!

In the dark, it looked like a black cat, with a long tail, and it didn't want to leave, even after I took a swing at it with my shoe... Without taking my eyes off it, I grabbed my camera, thinking that the flash would scare it off (and that I might get a picture of it).

Sure enough, I was able to get several pictures of it, but the flash certainly didn't scare it off! I put my food in my waterproof pannier, pretty certain that whatever it was wouldn't try to check through it. It did return after some of my noise scared it off, but only stuck around for a couple of minutes...

"Chuck Norris combs his hair with the teeth of a mighty lion"

New Zealand's south island has about one million inhabitants, 10 million sheep, and 20 million tourists driving around in campervans.
Sure, that's a bit of an exaggeration (the bit about the campervans, at least), but it does seem that on any given day about half of the vehicles that pass me are campervans.

There is at least one company down here that tries to differentiate themselves by spraypainting their vans with funky designs in an effort
to appeal to the younger crowd. Some of them have various sayings spraypainted on the sides or rear.

I first noticed the Chuck Norris comment yesterday morning around Ross
and I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that I've seen it ten
times since then.

The most bizarre part is that I was getting quite pleased with myself
for getting off the beaten path today - about 15 km down a dirt road
to a wild beach. I was thinking to myself that I hadn't seen a single
vehicle heading in the direction of the beach and was excited that I
might have it all to myself.

But in the last kilometer, the Chuck Norris-mobile struck again.
Drat! I guess I'll just have to work on my karate moves so that I'll
have complete solitude at the next remote beach.

Practicalities: cost

If you're thinking about making a trip to New Zealand yourself, you
might be wondering what expenses are like. In short, if you want it to
be, it can be darn cheap. And unlike some developing nations where the
dollar is strong, here you never have to worry about safety or
cleanliness. (That's been my experience for the first 9 days, at
least.). In other words, you can go for the cheapest accommodations in
town and not have to worry that you'll end up in a flea-ridden rat
hotel that happens to let people in too.

So here's a quick rundown on prices I've paid, in New Zealand dollars:

Hostel dorm rooms: $21-$27
Campsites: $10-$17
Internet access: $6/hour
Laundry: $5
Fish & chips takeaway: $8
Ice cream bar: $3
750g bag of muesli (13 servings, or 4 susan-sized breakfasts): $4-$6
Large bottled soft drink: $3
Large package of cookies (I.e. More than a dozen): $3-$4
Meat pie: $3-$4
Bus: $35 for a 3-hour journey

In short, most food is very cheap, except for some packaged food and
food in nicer restaurants, which then ends up costing about as much as
in the states. Lodging, however, has been ridiculously cheap. If I
recall correctly, I paid about 3 times more for a hostel in
Switzerland than here.

I don't have too much experience with long-distance bus travel here or
elsewhere, but this also seems very low-cost to me.

Altogether, I haven't spent more than $100 on any day, even when I
spent $80 on bike supplies, and a more typical day is closer to $50.

Now remember that the exchange rate is 2:1 (two NZ dollars equals one
U.S. dollar) and get on the next flight down here!

I left my compass at home...

It was partly by design and partly by accident... When on the road,
it's rare to really need a compass, and thus far the navigation has
been pretty trivial (except in Nelson, the only town I've been through
that's large enough that asking for directions isn't
laughable). And when on popular, well-marked trails, compasses are
only occasionally useful.

In retrospect, I should have brought one for the hiking portions of
this trip.

But when checking e-mail today it occurred to me that my friends and
family are a more important compass to me right now anyway. They
remind me of which way is up, of who I am (which I manage to forget on
occasion), and why I do what I do. For this I am exceedingly grateful.

Besides, when I hit my next big town, I'm sure that I can call one of
them to ask the way to the closest bike shop. They're all pretty good
with the internet like that...

The Weather: Now 700% better!

Seriously. OK, it might have rained from about 2:30-4:00 while I was on the bike. But it was just rain. And maybe a little wind. No gale-force winds or hurricanes blowing through. The funny thing is, the weather forecast is always the same for New Zealand, as far as I can tell: winds out of the SSW at 20-30 kph, scattered showers. Highs between 12-20 degrees C. But as a shopkeeper alluded to when I asked about the weather at the beginning of my trip, the forecasters here are rarely right. Ah... just like home.

One of the highlights of the day today was running into Andy and Brian, two recently-retired Irish- and English-turned-Aussies who were on a 10-day road trip of the south island. As I finished chatting with a motorcycling couple from Melbourne, they asked if they could buy me coffee. For a split second I thought about the fact that I needed to get in some miles if I was going to reach my goal of Franz Josef (100+ km away), but it still took me less than 0.9 seconds to accept their invitation.

They chatted enthusiastically about their trout-fishing experience, the beauty of the coast ("you ain't seen nothing yet"), and how fit I would be by the end of my Kiwi cycling adventure ("that old boyfriend will be wanting you back"). Andy whipped out his iPhone to check his stocks (not bad for an OAP) and insisted that I have half of his sandwich that he promised he wouldn't be able to finish (ham and cheese and pineapple - these kiwis are on to something). Just when I began to wonder how I might close this conversation tactfully, they started heading off with perfect timing.

Most of the way was relatively easy going and I managed to pull into Franz Josef at about 4 p.m. (riding a distance of 130 km, which seemed downright preposterous to think of after yesterday's experience), where I ran into a British couple who had been biking in NZ for 5 months! They suggested I check out a hostel with camping, which indeed turned out to be a great deal ($10 NZD, compared to $20 for a campground down the road). I biked up the road and checked out the glacier - from a distance - before heading back to town.

The glacier is a big attraction around here, and the local economy has found many ways to extract money out of tourists in the spirit of "adventure": helicopter tours (starting at $240 NZD), glacier tours, skydiving, skiplane tours, heli-rafting tours, etc. It's all a bit much for me and I'm looking forward to moving on and maybe checking out the local seal colony. I haven't seen any brochures advertising that one, so I think I'll be safe from being inundated by tourists there.

Until I remember that I am one myself!

Retreat... Battle! ... Hunker down

Yesterday the elements were not working in my favor and I can only hope that things improve in the next few days... but given the forecast, I'm not entirely sure that will happen.

I awoke at first light (~7:00 a.m.) yesterday to see that it was pouring down rain. Optimistic that things would change in the next hour before I headed down to the D0C (Department of Conservation) office to finalize my hiking plans, I had my breakfast, bought some extra snacks at the only store in Arthurs Pass, and got packed up.

But alas, the rain did not abate. At all.

The problem with rain in the Arthurs Pass area is that it raises the levels of the rivers, and all of the multi-day hikes in the area involve multiple river crossings. In fact, the two-day trip I chose involved over 20 of them.

And kiwis don't believe in bridges.

I haven't done any multi-day hikes in Alaska, but it sounds like the topography there is more similar to New Zealand than, say, Washington or Switzerland. There are so many wide braided rivers that change course that hikers are left to their own devices instead of building bridges for them. And the rivers are too wide for a simple log-crossing like we so often use in Washington state.

So I decided to retreat: I hopped the next bus back down to Greymouth, where my bike was waiting for me. It ended up being a great ride; I met two sweet and inspiring young women from Durango and a nice hard-core hiker/canoe guide from Toronto. One of the Durangans, Leah, had been helping an old man off the bus when I first saw her, so I assumed that she was with travelling him, or at least a Kiwi (based on her accent). But no! Just a friendly Coloradan traveller.

We all had a bit of lunch together at a cafe in Greymouth when we arrived, and then I showed Andrew the way to the hostel (he was looking forward to a hot shower and a bed after 5 nights in the bush) while the Coloradans picked up some wine before their next bus trip. They were going to stay with some Kiwi friends they had met along the way. They certainly had racked up an amazing collection of friends during their two months' stay!

The rain was only intermittent in Greymouth, so I decided to hop back on the bike and continue on my way down the coast.

Rewind back to March 1, around 9 p.m. in the San Francisco airport. I had been meaning to talk to my friends Liz and Glenn, my cyclist "parents". I hadn't had a chance to tell them yet that I was heading to New Zealand for a month.

It turns out that Glenn had biked in New Zealand for two months about 15 years ago. (How had I not known this?!) I told him my approximate plans, and he had some pretty dire warnings about cycling down the West Coast.

"Raindrops the size of watermelons."

"We rode 60 miles that day but it felt like 200."

This coming from a man who really has biked 200 miles in a day; Glenn is probably the toughest man I know. When Liz competes in Ironman Canada, Glenn usually bikes up there to watch. When he wanted to go to the Co-Motion facility in Eugene, OR, he biked there. In about 3 days. In short, if this man says something is tough, only an idiot like me wouldn't take his advice and run away from it.

But I kept to my original plan. "I'm not in a hurry," I reasoned. "If it takes a long time, I'll just take the bus south to make up for lost time."

Well, if yesterday's progress is any indication, I'll be bussing about half of this crazy coastline.

The prevailing winds here are out of the SSW. Which is almost exactly the direction I'm heading. And they showed no mercy yesterday. For a stretch of about 20 km I was probably averaging 5-10 mph on the flats, in my smallest chain ring (front gear) and at times in my biggest gear in the back.

If it wasn't the headwinds slowing me down, the crosswinds were trying to trick me into biking off the road. There was no shoulder to speak of, so I did indeed roll into the grass a few times. There's something about severe crosswinds and large trucks that seems to make my bike do that.

The crazy part about it is that I kind of enjoyed it. I kept laughing at myself and kept trying to convince myself that it was just a crosswind and that I wasn't crazy for heading south. At least it wasn't too cold, I thought.

The one part where I wasn't laughing was when the rain joined forces with the winds to create thousands of tiny daggers that pelted my arms, face, and hands. I could feel their sting even through my GoreTex jacket!

It was with some relief that I finally arrived at Hokitika (after only 48km of cycling, at around 4 p.m.). As I sat down to collect myself and look at some maps, the skies cleared and I decided to head 30 km down the road to Ross after I took a quick stroll around Hokitika. But no sooner had I rounded the next corner than the winds started howling and the rain started pelting down again.

So I made an about-face and headed to the nearest backpackers accomodation. No need to let a little pride get in the way of a reasonable decision...

Changing gears, or cheating, depending on how you look at it

Today I used a magic machine that warps the space-time continuum to transport me nearly instantaneously from one place to another, with no effort required on my part. OK, I did have to fork over $12 USD, but that seemed like a perfectly reasonable rate for travelling about 100km up a steep mountain pass. You may refer to this machine as a "bus", but today it felt like magic.

I decided that instead of spending a whole day riding to the mountains and another whole day riding from the mountains, I could spend those two days in the mountains. And I'm pretty glad I did. The scenery here is pretty amazing. I've stored my bike and some biking gear back at the hostel in Greymouth, hopped on the bus at 8 a.m., and was here around 9:45 a.m.

The weather here is almost as spastic as it was on the coast: today I had sun, snow, and rain. And wind that literally almost knocked me over at the top of Avalanche Peak. I've honestly never experienced anything quite like it. The weather seems to change approximately every 30 minutes. I should start timing it.

Based on my readings of Tramping New Zealand, I had decided that the through-hike that stops at the Goat Pass Hut would be a good one; it is supposed to be one of the most straightforward hikes in this area. However, it sounds like the rivers on the north end of the hike are running high right now, so I may have to change plans or do the trip as an out-and-back instead of a thru-hike. Furthermore, the weather forecast is calling for gusts of up to 120 kph (around 80 mph) at upper elevations. This trek never goes above 4000', but still... I'm going to check with the DoC (Department of Conservation, the local equivalent of a ranger station) tomorrow morning and see what I can figure out.

At any rate, today was an amazing day. So far Arthurs Pass is definitely one of the highlights of this trip.

West Coast geology tour, or exploring caves by the light of an iPhone

I have 5 minutes to write this... :)

Today I headed south from Westport until I reached Rorapura National Park (sp?). The coast is beautiful - like the Oregon coast, but a bit more tropical (what with fern trees and whatnot).

I took a 3-hour hike along a river to "the ballroom", some cool caves. I expected it to be one large cavern, otherwise I would have brought my headlamp with me. So I walked into the depths with my iPhone lighting the way. Stalactites and stalagmites were most cool, and not stuck behind some fence.

A few km down the road I got to see the Pancake Rocks formations, right along the coast. Unfortunately they didn't serve pancakes there :(, but the rock (limestone) formations were quite cool indeed!

Tonight I'm staying in backpackers accommodations in Greymouth to dry out and get some good sleep before heading to Arthurs Pass for some hiking (woohoo!). Unfortunately I've stayed up later than I should talking to some other bike tourists!

That's all for now!

Posted a bunch of pictures to Flickr

They're here.

Zoom zoom to Westport

It was one of those beautiful days where it's just a joy to be on the bike, a complete about-face from my experience riding yesterday. I started the day on the shores of Lake Rotoiti, where I noticed a sign saying it was the start of the Buller River. What I didn't realize was that my route would take me all along the Buller River until it emptied into the ocean. As it grew, it dropped into deep gorges until it eventually mellowed out into a mature, meandering river. I didn't feel like ending the day in Murchison (it was only 11 a.m. when I arrived), so I made the decision to keep riding at least as far as Iahuanga Junction (60 miles from where I started). When I asked the girl at the "One Stop Shop" there how far it was to Westport and she said it was 45 km, I told her that with some ice cream, I could probably make it that far.

And indeed, the 100 miles weren't a problem (although my bum was a bit sore by the end after 7-8 hours on the bike). New Zealand ice cream is pretty good stuff!

Along the way, I did stop to take a fair number of pictures (I carried the SLR over my shoulder) and I also stopped at the longest Swinging Bridge in New Zealand (160 m long), on the advice of the friendly woman at the information center in Murchison.

It turns out that the weather here is pretty fickle. As I was setting up my tent at this "Holiday Park", the weather turned from overcast to downpour in about ten minutes. I dashed to the showers, and by the time I was done, the weather had cleared.

And now, while I've been catching up on e-mail tonight, we've had another 15-minute downpour. I'll keep my fingers crossed that I'll stay dry tonight. If all else fails, I'll take shelter on the couch here!

How slow can you go?

There are two schools of thought when it comes to bike touring: stop a lot and see a lot of stuff along the way... or ride a lot and see a lot of stuff along the way while riding.

I guess either way you see a lot, but the latter doesn't allow one to take many photos or notes from their trip.

After a few bike tours that definitely fit into the latter category (Oregon coast, ~125 miles/day, UK, 100 miles/day) I decided that I really wanted New Zealand to be in the former category. I wanted to stop and get in some hikes along the way. Chat with strangers. Take some pictures. Write some stuff down.

To be able to do everything I wanted to do (like hiking in an alpine environment, as well as biking in all sorts of weather), I decided to bring A Lot Of Stuff. In hindsight, there are some things that I could have left behind without affecting my ability to do what I want. I could have left the bike shoes at home and just used toe clips or platform pedals... and I probably could have done without the stove (although it was definitely handy when I camped out in Ms. Hope's yard). In the past, I haven't carried along as much extra clothing for cold temparatures while camping.

Long story short, all of this weight has resulted in this being the slowest ride of my life. And it has been hard on Susan's pride.

It's not unusual for me to average 18 mph on a decently long ride (let's say 50 miles). When I biked the Oregon coast I still averaged 15 mph for 125 miles per day. When I biked the U.K. I eventually took my bike computer off of my bike because I couldn't bear to see how slow I was riding.

On Thursday I rode 73 miles (more than I had planned, but the riding was pretty flat) at an average of a whopping 13.1 mph. How. Very. Slow. Ugh.

The amazing part is that on Friday I rode even slower. It didn't seem like it was all uphill... though in retrospect it must have been more up than down. Long story short: 25 miles at 9.9 mph. Ow.

Here's the thing: I'm OK with going that slow. Really. I'm getting to see more of the foliage. Stopping and taking pictures of the beautiful green mountains. Baa-ing at the sheep. But it still is embarrassing to reveal this to anyone I've ever ridden with that I'm riding slower than my grandfather would (even after his hip replacement).

Honestly, I'm pretty proud of every pedal stroke. I'm really just happy that I'm making this little dream of mine come true, no matter how fast or slow I go.

But when my bike computer died yesteray evening (probably because it was completely waterlogged, I wasn't too sad about it.

In love with biking again

Yesterday I was feeling a bit down on the cycling, but after a lovely
60k this morning under mostly sunny skies, on a road that seemed to be
mostly downhill all the way, I am a very happy bike tourist again.

Day breaking beautiful and clear over Lake Rotoiti

Better than I could have hoped! It looks like it's going to be a
great day!

The ups and downs of adventure

If there weren't any tough spots, it wouldn't be an adventure... it
would just be a vacation!

Wednesday was such an amazing day (and I forgot to mention that we saw
dolphins from the ferry!) that I knew things couldn't possibly get
better the next day, and would likely be a little less amazing.

Sure enough, it turned out twednesday night hat I had a slow leak in
my tire and would need to replace the tube. No big deal, but a bit of
a downer to get one so early in the trip.

But while inspecting my tire I realized that there was a fairly
significant cut in it. Embarrassingly enough, I had noticed this a
couple of weeks ago and thought about replacing it... but hadn't had
any trouble since then... Now I was feeling stupid for not having
replaced it before a Big Trip. At least Nelson, a town big enough to
have a bike shop, was only 40 miles away...

The riding started off on an up side - beautiful scenery, some sun,
not too hilly. Then a bit of a downer - a long climb. But then another
up - the top! And a long downhill! But, uh oh... Construction zone
and dirt and gravel... Psssht! Another flat. Curses! Time to use my
last spare tube (and why didn't I bring a patch kit?)

On the up side, there was a nice bike path for the last few miles of
riding into nelson. On the down side, it was starting to get pretty
overcast...

Nelson did indeed have a pretty large bike shop with tires (I opted
for a 28 instead of a 23..,), tubes and patch kits (yay!) but, like
many large bike shops, the staff wasn't overly helpful (boo).

There was a convenient bakery/takeaway shop with a nice bench outside
(yay!) but the milkshake was repulsive (boo - are all milkshakes in
New Zealand like that? I'm too scared to try another one to find out...)

The way out of town also had a nice bike path and the going was pretty
flat (yay!). But then it started to spit a little rain.

I was kicking along faster than I expected (yay!) but then ended up
kind of in the middle of nowhere when it started to rain harder and my
legs were getting worn out (boo).

I had read that free camping is legal in New Zealand, although you
should get permission from the property owner first. Time to test out
that theory...

Fortunately Ms. Hope didn't mind me staying in her yard under a big
tree (double yay!), but when I woke up in the middle of the night it
was raining pretty hard... And I felt some dripping on my head (time
to dig out the headlamp and adjust the rain fly)... And I started to
worry about the next day of cycling... And that scary creaking noise
my bike had started making.

I put off getting out of the tent as long as possible, but the idea of
spending a whole day in a one-man tent with my stinky gear was far
less appealing than riding in the rain... so at 7:45 I started putting
my things together and was eventually on my way.

To give you am idea of just how reluctant I was to get out of the tent
this morning, I opted I eat my granola cold (because I didn't want to
get out of the tent to cook) and dry (because my water bottle was
outside the tent) and with my hands (the spork was also outside the
tent).

I did get soaked on the ride this morning, but the weather was
mercifully warm and I rode with fingerless gloves!

By noon I reached St. Arnaud, after much slow uphill cycling. I had
decided to spend a night in the backpacker's accommodations here to
dry out, do laundry, and recharge (literally, my phone was dead). Not
bad for $11.50 USD.

The hike that I did this afternoon up to Mt. Roberts (about 5000') in
Nelson Lakes National Park left me feeling recharged and very happy,
even if my feet were soaked and the views were limited. Towards the
end of the hike I finally had views of Lake Roiti, which it turns out
is the bluest lake I've ever seen!

Hooray for adventure! And the joys of making it through the rainy bits
so that we can appreciate the sun even more!

Sorry I've no new pictures to post from my phone!

Ps- Tomorrow I may be camping again, so may not post again for a
couple of days. I'm heading west to Westport from here, then south
towards paparoa national park and greymouth.

Where the heck have you been?

Note: if you don't post anything for a couple of days, mom starts to
wonder...

So I turned on my fully/charged phone in Nelson to post a picture to
facebook, and the next time I turn my phone on 3 hours later, it's
dead. Very mysterious. I hope it wasn't calling Russia without me or
anything.

And then when I was camping in a nice lady's yard last night, I really
didn't want to bother her by asking for some electricity for my phone.
I mean, maybe strange cyclists routinely show up in her yard asking
for a spot on her lawn (there wasn't a place to stay for probably 30k
in either direction), but she seemed like a bit of a timid woman and I
didn't want to freak her out or anything.

And then when I arrived at the Alpine Lodge here at St. Arnaud, I
unpacked just enough to get the tent drying and then wolfed down Yet
Another Meat Pie and headed out to find a nice afternoon hike.

And so now, here I am, showered, fed (thanks in part to some of the
folks getting rid of their leftovers in the backpacker's kitchen),
laundered, and ready to do some writing.

Because when I'm out on the road and trail I'm almost constantly
composing messages in my head!

Quote of the day

"Far better to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure, than to take rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much, because they live in the grey twilight that knows not victory, nor defeat."

-Theodore Roosevelt

(Found in Metal Cowboy, by Joe Kurmaski)

My first 24 hours in New Zealand (AKA Fantasy Islands)

My $2 gold coin ("no silver" allowed) here is good for 20 minutes of internet access (that's just $1 US, but I'm short on coins), so let's see if I can describe my first 24 hours in this amazing country in a way that might do it justice.

The day didn't get off to the most auspicious of starts, what with the heavy traffic right under my window on Cambridge Street in Wellington. I had arrived at 12:45 a.m., when traffic was nonexistent, so I didn't realize what I was in store for in the morning. All right, then, no worries - I wanted to get up fairly early anyway to get started on the day. My goal was to hit one of the ferries to the South Island, hopefully after exploring Wellington a bit.

I must say that the people I've interacted with in Australia and New Zealand have been amazingly helpful and friendly. I even managed to strike up a conversation with the customs official in Australia about trekking in New Zealand; he was lamenting the fact that his friends were in New Zealand trekking at that very moment and that he should be with them...

Anyway, back to the Cambridge Hotel (which is sort of a hybrid between a hotel and hostel). I asked one of the women who worked there what I might do with the cardboad bike box that I now needed to discard (since I'm not flying out of Wellington). She said that I should just drop it in the hall next to the laundry room. Easy enough...

When I asked the woman at the front desk where I might find a store that has camping supplies - I needed some fuel for my camping stove - she asked if I just needed one of those cannisters? Um, yes... She replied that they actually had one that had been lying around the office "for ages" and that I should take it. Sure thing! That saved me $7 and the hassle of trying to find a camping supply store.

As I rolled into town towards the ferry, the grocery store appeared on the right... and then, as if by magic, a bike shop on my left (where I got my wheel trued for $10USD). While there, the two guys working there explained to me the pros and cons of the two different ferry options to Picton (the South Island). Good stuff! (I opted for Blue Bridge, which is a bit cheaper).

I picked up a ferry ticket at the office and asked the woman working there what she might do if she had an hour to kill before boarding the ferry, as I did. She said she might check out the Te Papa National Museum, which was just a bit down the way. The price? Free! I was on my way.

If you're ever in Wellington, I'd highly recommend the museum. It's a mixture of art museum, natural history museum, botanical gardens, and more! I had fun trying to see as much as possible in the 35 minutes I had there.

Next up was the 3-hour ferry ride. Here I was torn between two objectives: 1) finish reading one of the (heavy-ish) books that I was carrying and 2) see the amazing scenery that was passing by. Fortunately, there was a span about halfway through when we were pretty far from any land, so I did manage to finish the book (Metal Cowboy, by Joe Kurmaski, a pretty fun read about his bike touring adventures).

At last, around 4:30 p.m., we hit land, and I was off on my bike to Havelock, 35km away. (Well, after I managed to locate my bike... ferries have a way of confusing me, especially once they jam pack it tight with huge trucks).

The scenery along Queen Charlotte Drive is perhaps unequaled. I'd say it's something like the road to Hana in Maui or the drive along the west side of the Cape south of Capetown, SA. But better. The green mountains just across the water, followed by beautiful farmlands, and then more coastline... and very few cars. I was in heaven. The doubts and second thoughts I'd had about taking this trip and taking time off work disappeared. I felt like I was very much in the right place.

Havelock is a pretty tiny town with a pretty large marina and a little campground that I'm calling home for the night. I have had my share of follies here already, however!

Apparently Havelock is famous for its green mussels. I've perhaps eaten a few mussels in my time, but when I ordered some at the local takeaway shop, I asked the young woman behind the counter how many to order. She said that 4 or 6 was a typical-sized order. I ordered a half dozen and waited what seemed like a while for them to appear. I grew hungrier and hotter from my sunburn (I put sunblock on my face and neck today, but, um, forgot my legs...), and as I was waiting as the order numbers were gradually called out... my mouth might have watered a little when I saw the huge packages of takeaway that other customers were picking up.

A little bit of sadness followed when my tiny package was offered up as order number 100. Apparently it is standard operating procedure to get some chips with such an order... sigh... after I ate my mussels on a bench at the marina, I went to the next shop down the street and ordered some chips. Really, it was because the first shop was closed, not because I was embarrassed or anything... really. I will say in their defense, though, that it was only $1.60 USD for those mussels. And they were darn tasty!

I almost felt like I didn't need a shower tonight, as I'd only biked ~20 miles. But it had been a warm day... and only a fool turns down an opportunity for a wam shower. So I walked to the center of the campground, looking for showers. The first thing I saw resembling a shower was a handicapped bathroom, which, sure enough, had a shower in it as well. One stop shopping! It wasn't until I had emptied all of my pockets (which contained, in no particular order: one bike lock, one cell phone, one camera, one wallet, coins, etc., etc.,) and completely undressed (distributing my goods all over the toilet and sink, as there was no bench or hooks to place things on) that I realized that the shower was a farce.

It was with some disbelief that I examined this so-called shower. It had a knob for turning it on; it had a rail that a shower head is supposed to attach to (and slide up and down). But there was no actual outlet for water. No shower head, no hose. As I stood there, puzzled and naked (with my shirt/towel in hand), I realized that I had neglected to lock the door. That poor old woman probably had the shock of her life. Consequently, now I'm afraid to interact with any of the older women here; I didn't get a look at her face, so it could have been any one of them! :^0

And so concludes Susan's follies for today.

Here are some miscellaneous details:
Cost of ferry: $55NZD + $10NZD for bike
Cost of hotel: $60NZD
Cost of tent site: $12

New Zealand has set the bar awfully high

Bluebird skies, a ferry ride that put's Waahington's to shame... Does
it get any better than this?

I will say, though, that I spotted some clearcuts on the ferry ride to
the south island. Not so perfect after all, are you, New Zealand? ;)

Bike box

Wed, 10 am - My bike appears to be ok, aside from my front wheel,
which is a bit out of true. But the box that I shipped it in looks
like the Sri Lankan cricket team's bus!

Fuji and I are all assembled and ready to head to the ferry! I'm going
to try to pick up some groceries, a fuel cannister, and pehaps get my
wheel tried if I can find a bike shop. It's a gorgeous day - I can't
wait to start!

Six hours in Sydney

It is a beautiful day here in Sydney. I'm on top of one of the pylons
of the harbor bridge and have also taken a nice walk through the
botanical gardens. Anyone want to move to Sydney with me? As far as I
can tell, this place is paradise!

If you ever have a long layover in Sydney, I'd definitely recommend an excursion to the harbor.  I suppose it depends on 
how busy the airport is on the day in question, but I feel like today it would 
have worked fine with a layover of 4 hours or more.  

Highlights of my excursion included a walk through the Royal Botanical Gardens,
checking out the exterior of the Sydney Opera House, taking a ferry across the
harbor to the zoo (but opting out of entering the zoo when I realized it cost $39),
visiting the Museum of Contemporary Art (free!), and walking up to the top of
one of the pylons of the Harbor Bridge and checking out the museum there ($9 AUS).

I really enjoyed the Yayoi Kusama exhibit there.  Gary, if you're reading this, you
should check her out, especially because of your Japan trip!  Josh, she did some work
that are ripoffs of your doodles... but on a much larger scale.  

Of course I managed to also sneak some ice cream in there.  :)

And one of the highlights of the day is the free shower and free internet at the airport!

Speaking of which, gotta go catch my flight!

How to survive a 15-hour flight in 3 easy steps

1)  As soon as you get on board, set your watch to the local time of your destination.
2)  Bring Nyquil.  When your watch says that it is night time, take 2.
3)  Wear your lucky socks.  In my case, my lucky sock monkey socks get me a whole row (4 seats) to myself.

Your mileage may vary; I was lucky enough to have a flight that took off at 10:30 p.m. PST.  I was awake for the first 3 or 4 hours, then slept soundly for 4, then dozed for another 4 until breakfast was served. More dozing followed until we landed.

This (plus some I'm-on-a-new-continent adrenaline) was enough sleep to get me through a day in Sydney pretty well.  Although I must say that now (5:45 p.m. Sydney time) I'm ready for a serious nap.

And for those who keep track of these things, we were served a good-sized dinner and breakfast and a nice "snack bag" on our flight.

For Doug B: Salty Peanuts

"This artwork, consisting of approximately 120 used saxophones, is a
tribute to the role of jazz in San Francisco culture. The saxophone
collage is flanked above and below by the opening bars of Dizzy
Gillespie's famous composition "Salt Peanuts"."

Incidentally, I just got frisked when going through security at the
international terminal here; I didn't receive this honor in Seattle.
From this one might conclude that the average traveler at Seatac
looks more like a terrorist than the average traveler at the
international terminal at SFO. I would tend to agree, actually. The
cats here are pretty well-dressed. And then there's me in my hiking
pants...

Reflection at Seatac

At Seatac, ready to fly

Kelly took this picture of me when he dropped me off at the airport.
Thanks for the ride, Kelly! My car hit 100,000 miles on the way there
(we couldn't
fit the bike box in his civic)!

The woman who helped me at the Alaska airlines counter was very
friendly and patient with my situation (I don't think they see too
many people travelling internationally with a bike). The best news of
the day is that they didn't charge me a cent to take my bike!
Hopefully I'll be as lucky when I fly to Australia and again when I
fly back to the states. :). Just an hour now until my first flight (to
San Fran)!

It's all about weight

Like any good weight weenie, I weighed every item that I was planning on carrying with me on the trip. I would have pasted my spreadsheet here, but the formatting was completely horked. So instead, you can see it here.

I could have opted to travel much lighter on this trip, but opted to bring camping gear (tent, sleeping pad, sleeping bag, stove which amounts to about 8 pounds). If I end up regretting this (as I did during my UK trip), I can always ship it home (expensive though that may be). I'm thinking that the extra freedom this will afford me will be worth it. Since there are huts along the treks that I plan on doing, camping gear isn't strictly necessary to do a lot of stuff. However, I am planning on taking advantage of New Zealand's "camp anywhere for free, except in National Parks" policy. That sounds pretty cool to me.

One funny thing about the weight spreadsheet is that it makes you realize just how heavy water is. The two water bottles together are heavier than my tent!

Another 2-pound weight that isn't strictly necessary is the SLR camera. I am reasoning, however, that the extra weight will force me to ride slower... which will motivate me to take more pictures... which is a good thing.

Long story short, this is a significantly larger load than I've ever carried before. It will certainly be an exercise in patience for Susan to bike so slowly!

Well, I take off for the airport in a few short minutes, so this will be my last post from home!