Gisborne to Napier - the tour

Tuesday : Gisborne - Doneraille Park (Wrong turn and ride for the last part) app. 45 km

Wednesday: Donneraille Park - Hackfalls arboretum, app. 15 km

Thursday: Hackfalls arboretum - Frasertown, app. 40

Friday: Frasertown - Putorino, 56 km

Saturday: Putorino - Napier, 60 km, ride for the past 20 km.

191,74 km total ridden on bike, two rides in trucks with cars in the back - note that I wasn't hitching, but rather offered rides randomly by sympathetic people on my way up steep hills while pushing bike. Not quite sure if that's good or bad. Average speed 12,6 km/t, bike computer claims maximum speed was 99,9 km/h, though that is hardly correct, I believe it's around 40 km/h. I have a positive on 38,8 km/h. Number of accidents seen: 1, motorbiker swerved to right and crashed with car, luckily at low speed and only busted an ankle. Ambulance (or actually firefighters) arrived after 45 mins. I'll definitely keep on the hi-vis vest, neon helmet and flag, pull over for the big trucks and keep to the right, i.e left side of the road.

Tuesday : Gisborne - Doneraille Park (Wrong turn and ride for the last part) app. 45 km

Wednesday: Donneraille Park - Hackfalls arboretum, app. 15 km

Thursday: Hackfalls arboretum - Frasertown, app. 40

Friday: Frasertown - Putorino, 56 km

Saturday: Putorino - Napier, 60 km, ride for the past 20 km.

There's a bloody lot of hills in this country and I'm definitely not used to roadbiking with a heavy load.The bike's good though, I'm using the gearing to the max already, but still have to practice handling the trailer a bit, it gives me trouble when stopping, it's hard to park and so far I've solved that by stuffing my sleeping bag under the trailer to prevent it from toppling over, which doesn't raely make for apermament solution though. I'm not quite sure if it's possible to do anything else, can you fit a kick stand to a bobtrailer? When on gravel rode, it slides sidewards upphil on angled roads, which makes the whole bikeandtrailer-thing jack-knifing on me and everything then falls over. I'm getting stronger arms from pushing it back up though.

I've gotten a silicone saddle cover to prevent a sore bum, and so far I think it's doing the job quite well, but it's only been put to the test on a leisurely 50 km ride without luggage and lots of photo stops on flat ground.

The tour;

I started out from Gisborne quite late in the day, despite a plan of an early morning. A good bye fiest of Danish Frikadeller & veggies (meatballs) and complementary Carlsberg with some of the Argentinian Che's (Pollo, Jose and Fran) from the flying nun delayed getting up early. I also realized that I have more belongings that what actually fits on a bike, even with a trailer, and ended up leaving bits and bobs behind in Pollo's van, with whom I anyway have a date with down south. No, not like that, on the South Island, and he's my friend. You guys!

I got out of the hostel, out of Gisborne and made a wrong turn, which cost me quite few extra kilometers, since I didn't really notice very much else than the beautiful alandscape, how surprisingly comfy it was to ride my bike and that it was much less hilly than described. At last my suspicion was aroused by a road sign pointing to cities I didn't plan on seeing, and after meticulously consulting my map I turned back and found the right exit. It was a lot hillier, but still very pretty. In between the late start and the wrong turn it had grown late in the day, and pushing uphill I was offered a ride by the local road maintenance guy, who gave a me a lift all the way to Doneraille park, which I was very happy to accept. There I erected my tent, cooked dinner and had drinks with two French guys who where quite excited to have female solo biker in the tent next to theirs as well as two kiwi sisters at 18 and 22 out camping.

Day two started with the uphill from Doneraille Park, and then it continued with more uphill. At the side road to Hackfalls Arboretum I had lunch at the local pub and consulted the owner wether it was worth a detour going to the arboretum. At cofirmation, I ventured inwards, and apart from the gravel road (it's official, I hate gravel) it's a lovely place. After scaring all the cows , you come to a pretty little lake sourrounded by greenery, pay 10 dollars for access to 50 acres of park and are free to enjoy yourself and wander about. I doled out another 10 for staying in the sheep shearers quarters that were deserted and hence all to my use, meaning I had both kitchen, bedroom and bathroom all to myself as well as an amazing view. It felt very luxurious after tents and dormitories in hostels.

Day three I continued along the road, with breaks here and ther to enjoy the landscape, had lunch at a very uncharming road shoulder - but hunger is nothing to mess with when biking - and did a very lucky water run in the afternoon. Nerys did 'but of course' give me water, with ice, a ride back to other farm where I'd left my sleeping bag on the ground, an invitation to se the sheep being sheared, and there I got a long, thorough, informative and interesting explanation on sheep and cattle farming in modern New Zealand by Nerys' husband Mike. I also got acquainted with their daughter Grace of four years, who quickly warmed up and found it fantastic to have her very grown up to play with. Then they invited me for dinner - lamb roast and potatoes and mint jelly and fantastic things - along with two friends stopping by and gave me cider beer and told me jokes and in general had a very good time, and then I was tucked in with a real pillow and matress in their living room. A lot more than I had expected coming in for a water refill and a very nice view into rural life in New Zealand, which now seems very appealing on some aspects. Getting up at four thirty in the morning to go and find the sheep to be sheared might not be all that appealing if I really had to do it, but Mike's tales of riding out in the dark and sseing the sun rise from the hills definitely had ring to it. They're an absolutely charming family and I'm really amazed at how strangers are welcomed in this country, it's an absolute delight to be able to come as a stranger and leave as a friend.

Day four I continued after a solid breakfast at Nery's and Mike's, with plans of going all the way to Lake Titiroa, which is a good 70-80 km from their place. Of course I didn't make it - I slept on a river bank 15 km from the lake. It's a beautiful tour, lots of grand views and lots of up and downs. A good advice is to eat before going up the steepest hill, not after, to have the energy to go through the ordeal. This part of the tour being on the actual highway, I did find that drivers are very considerate, giving lots of space and often a friendly little toot in the horn and waves and smiles. I'm apparently also being included in the motorbiker's club, who with subtle signs give greetings and warnings along the road. The only actual dislike are the log trucks, they're so huge they hardly can sverwe or lower the speed, which basically means I'm pulling onto the side and stopping for them rather than the other way around. It's nice guys driving though, I got a lot of cheers and waves from them.

Day five the good old legs where getting tired and I had an ice cream break at Titiroa village and then a long lunchbreak at the lake itself, not feeling very much like continuing. These days had all been so hot the tar was literally seeoing out of the asphalt.

I did continue, the road rolls and undulates, as said in Pedaller's paradise, which is a very recommendable book for biking in NZ, all the way to the Devil's hairpin, and as the name says, it's a long sharply curved hill, which goes on for ever. On one of the roadshoulders up ther I ran into Kris, not literally, and he offered me a ride up the hill, which ende up being all the way to Napier. On the way don the hill we came across an accident, which luckily turned out to be not so serious after all, but did look very nasty to begin with; a motrbiker had crashed with a car sligthly to the side of the front. The guy on the bike was a sturdy old badger, who took it all quite coolly and reckoned he'd 'just busted his ankle'. It took 45 minutes before any official help was there, there's rarely phone coverage due to all the mountains. I had rather had time abstracting form the thought that it'd have been pretty bad if I had been to crash with a car. If I promise to drive carefully and always wear my helmet and keep to left of the road we'll expect it not to happen, right?

And then I was in Napier, and here I've been lulling about being a naughty girl who haven't bothered to write or do very much of anything sensible, which has been most enjoyable.