Marlborough by Mountain Bike

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MARLBOROUGH BY MOUNTAIN BIKE Clare Kempster The next section of our route was along a walking track, the name and location of which will remain secret as we were all under strict instructions from Steve that we were not part of a Tongue and Meat trip for the duration of the aforementioned track. We didn't meet a soul en-route and so escaped without confrontation. I'd not biked much real off-road stuff before this trip and enjoyed the track immensely despite ending up on my back with my bike on top of me as I crossed one not too stable bridge of rotten logs! Next we followed a gravel road until we reached the "Portage" for a well earned beer (or two...). We also had the opportunity to hose the mud off our bikes ready for the boat trip back to our motel - only a "small" hill to negotiate first! The boat was definitely a wonderful way to return at the end of a fun day. After a rather large pot-luck dinner (cooking is so much easier in a motel!), we went down to Picton to check out the night life. A very loud band of dubious quality drove most of us to the centre of Picton to meet Richard from the ferry via the kiddies' playground. Sunday saw another 9.00 am start, this time setting off in the opposite direction towards Port Underwood. At one scenic view point, Richard, Andrew and Rob decided to see who could go the fastest down a near vertical grassy bank (little things...). Rob, not content with this, shot over the next drop without braking, doing a very spectacular wipe out in the gravel car park. He and his Claire "off her bike" (Brian Johnston) bike were just about in one piece sO we continued on up the hill. It was a windy and wet Friday evening at the ferry terminal - a good excuse to leave Wellington and head for We soon discovered that Port Underwood hill is not the sunny South Island. Steve, our intrepid leader, won dissimilar to the Rimutakas in length and height gained! the prize for the flashiest bike box more of a suitcase We had a much needed pause to admire the amazing really. A few of us decided to ride our bikes on rather views three quarters of the way up where Steve squeezed than take them to bits - I might add that I was the only remarkable amounts of liquid out of his helmet and Rob mug who paid the full bike fare, but Andrew and Rob did some repair work to his injuries. shouted me a drink in the bar as compensation and I soon forgot my grievance. We eventually made it to the top of the road and then followed a dirt track to the receiver station. It seemed like Those of us whose bikes weren't in boxes had a quick the upwards would never stop the steepness of the ride to the motel, during which I managed to run over and gradient forced us all to walk at some stages (some of us demolish my front light, which had slipped off. When we more than others!). arrived it was easy to spot the true trampers who pulled It was at this point that Debbie opted for a more leisurely out sleeping bags and towels not accustomed to the return to the motel, back the way we'd come. When the luxury of a motel! rest of us eventually reached the receiving station the views were magnificent. We were up and away by 9.00 am on Saturday morning. Blue skies and sunshine, but an initial temperature of zero degrees, just to remind us it was winter. A mandatory stop at the hot bread shop in Picton and we were on our way around Queen Charlotte Sound to Anakiwa Bay.

From here we had to drop down some incredibly steep firebreaks to find the track down to sea level. Gavin finally admitted that thin tyred bikes do have their limitations and went back the way Debbie had returned. The rest of us battled through gorse bushes to a dead end, battled back again, our strength renewed by some lunch, eventually finding the right route and dropping down to the coast - not without Rob hooning around a corner and crashing again. We'd only been going about 10 minutes along the coast road when one of his pedals fell offl. He managed remarkably well pedalling with one foot and leapt on to the back of a moving mussel lorry to reach the summit of Port Underwood hill, but couldn't resist the freewheel down the other side. A superb end to a superb weekend proving a tramping club can do more than just tramp! The team: Clare "I can ride my bike upside down and pretend I'm in England" Kempster Steve "I bike SO hard even my helmet sweats" Patience Bill "It takes a good curry to get me sweating" Hubbard Rob "IfI went faster I would crash my bike more" Brown Andrew "You don't wash mountain bikes" McLellan "Ouch!" (Brian Johnston) Gavin "thin tyres rule" (but not down firebreaks) Debbie "lets go on a Picton pub-crawl" Douglas Eric "I'm too old to play in kiddies playgrounds = Evans Brian "Just one more photo" Johnston Richard "Macpac" Fergusson - a The Team (Brian Johnston)