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Ten Days in the Saddle

Date unknown (c. 1992)

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TEN DAYS IN THE SADDLE Claire Silcock Sandflies, rain, perhaps a little sunshine, more sandflies, managed to accumulate between the four of us. It was more rain.. a somewhat less than inspiring image was noted with some amusement that the largest bag of all springing to mind as Paul and Debbie outlined their plans belonged to none other than Paul "bring smaller bags for a 10 day mountainbiking trip on the West Coast. rather than one big one... and his words came back to Tramping was out due to a shoulder injury and I'm far haunt him as we unceremoniously reminded him of his too old for family holidays these days so it was beginning earlier advice. to look like the most attractive option except for one minor problem the lack of a mountainbike on my Furrowed brows and perplexed looks painted the picture part!! A kind and trusting friend came to the rescue, of our despair. Not being easily beaten we set about the agreeing to lend me his mountainbike so I duly booked a seemingly impossible task of making bags, boots, food, Boxing Day flight to Christchurch. billies, tents, bikes and helmets fit into the everdecreasing space. Fortunately the Hughes' had had the Christmas Day passed in foresight to hire a the usual blur of trailer in Picton SO presents, family visits after much headand copious amounts of scratching, laughing, food and at 10pm I pushing and shoving decided that I couldn't we managed to fit delay packing any everything in.. longer. Up until after except for a cane midnight sorting, basket full of goodies eliminating, packing and that Debbie and Paul repacking I finally had received for managed to stack a few Xmas!! Unanimous zzz's until I was rudely agreement was reached awakened by the alarm on the fate of the cane at some less than basket - it was to civilised hour. After become our sacrificial kick-starting the eyelids offering, burnt at the I realised that I had little stake, sO to speak, at more than an hour to our first campsite. finish packing, shower, have breakfast and make We were finally on our my way to the airport. way, heading west towards Arthur's With Paul's advice to Pass. By mutual "bring smaller bags consensus we decided rather than one big one" Claire Silcock to stay on the ringing in my ears, I Canterbury side of cast one last look around Arthur's Pass for a and headed for the door. The familiar feeling that I had day or two to avoid the rain that was bucketing down on forgotten something was nagging at me as we blasted the West Coast. down Ngauranga Gorge en route to Wellington Airport. "Too late to worry about it now... I told myself and A picnic lunch at the base of the Broken River road tried to erase the mental check-list from my mind. revitalised us and we set off in the sun for the skifield. Debbie and Karen decided that the opportunity to snooze Debbie and Paul were running late so on arrival at in the sun was too good to pass up so they turned back at Christchurch Airport I found myself a comfy seat and lay the grader shed leaving Paul and I to puff and sweat our back for an attempt to catch up on some of the sleep that way up to Palmer Lodge. We were surprised to find a Christmas had deprived me of. A short time later I was reasonable amount of snow on the field and even more united with Debbie, Paul and Karen and at this point 'the surprised to note that BR Ski Club members had been circus' began in earnest!! skiing there as recently as a couple of days before Xmas. We collected a bottle of somewhat dirty snow for the We stood gazing at the piles of gear we were hoping to girls, admired the view and then blasted all the way back cram into the car as if expecting the car to increase in size down the road to the car. We reached some terrifying to accommodate the incredible amount of luggage we had

Poulter River Claire Silcock speeds and managed to stay on the bikes more by virtue particularly hungry and vicious sandflies. Clothes were than planning or skill. applied to every bit of exposed skin and still the little blighters managed to have a feed on my ankles through Camp was set up under the trees and the tone for the trip my socks. So another pair of socks was added but the was set with some pre-dinner drinks and nibbles followed persistent little mutants were successful in biting through by a delicious dinner and a decadent dessert. Paul and I both layers. There was no option left but to adopt Plan found a very pleasant walking track to blitz after dinner, Three... a couple of medicinal brandies!! made all the more exciting by the pre-dinner drinks. Karen slaved over the hot fire and produced a delicious Day Two saw us rising at a very civilised hour after all feast which went down a treat but the troops were careful we were on holiday and driving a short distance up the to leave enough room for the cheesecake dessert! road to the Poulter River. Lunch in the sun was followed Continuing the tradition of true decadence we noted that by a siesta for my older companions who were beginning the contents of the brandy bottle appeared to be to find the pace of the trip a little daunting but after a bit evaporating at an alarming rate SO a mental note was of nagging and a lot of procrastinating we jumped on the made to put it at the top of the shopping list. bikes and headed off towards the Poulter River. Another leisurely start next morning but eventually we A four wheel drive track and some open grassy flats managed to squeeze everything, including Karen's made the travel very pleasant and there were a couple of gardening book, back into the car and we set off for good steep grunts just to remind us that we were Arthur's Pass for a shower and an early lunch. supposed to be mountainbiking! We made our way up the valley at a leisurely pace, stopping frequently to admire The weather deteriorated the closer we got to Arthur's the views and make amateur predictions about the Pass but with a little encouragement I managed to cajole deteriorating weather. Paul into riding over the Pass with me. Taking the easy way out we opted to drive to the top of the Pass and cycle The puffing and gasping uphill was worth the effort when from there but it was raining the proverbial cats and dogs we blasted the downhills at breakneck speeds. Some by the time we reached the top and we unanimously minor confusion over our exact position ensued and we agreed to return to the Canterbury side of Arthur's Pass discovered much to our embarrassment that we had not for another day or so. gone anywhere near as far as we thought we had. After a munch-stop and a rest in the sun while Paul embarked on Paul and I donned our fashionable bright yellow PVC's his usual ferret-around we set off back down the river to and headed off in the rain back down to Arthur's Pass the car to find a nice campsite for the night. township and onto the agreed meeting place at Klondyke Corner. As usual, Paul managed to include a few side We came across an idyllic campsite beside the Hawdon tours to view waterfalls, the local rubbish tip and River with stunning views up the valley and some anywhere else worth ferreting around. By the time we caught up with the girls at Klondyke Corner they were The enthusiastic singing of a bird on the balcony lured soaking up the UV's and reluctant to accompany us on a me from my dream and I pictured myself letting it have it wee jaunt up the Waimakariri River. with a slingshot or similar until I realised that it had good reason to sing!! In typical West Coast style the day had A towel in the sun, a tape in my Walkman and a session dawned fine and clear so I pestered the troops until they of examining the insides of my eyelids was beckoning me were also wide awake and before long we were all set to furiously but alas I couldn't bear to look at Paul's long get out there and Do It!! face so I gallantly climbed back on the bicycle and trundled off along the road. Casting a couple of envious Our objective for the day was the Croesus Track in the glances back to the girls slothing out in the sun, I turned Paparoas and we cycled through some lovely bush and my attention to the dirt road stretching out before me!! great scenery until we reached the site of an old battery/stamper. The usual pattern emerged.. the girls The first section of the track to Carrington Hut was stretched out on the grass in the sun and Paul wandered narrow and very fast with the odd obstacle to test our off for a ferret!!! skills but before long we emerged from the bush onto a series of long grassy river flats. We managed a short A couple of thunder bolts bought us back to reality and snooze in the sun at the end of the last section of river we headed back the way we had come. An ice-cream and flats before heading back the way we had come, but twice a chat with some local kids back in Blackball reminded us as fast!! that it was in fact New Year's Eve so we loaded the trailer and set off for Punakaiki. Our enthusiasm for a dip in the Waimak by the road bridge diminished noticeably upon testing the water After another impressive feast my aged companions temperature so we cooled our feet instead. I was fortunate started making noises about heading off to bed before to experience a show of affection from an airborne bee on midnight sO I talked and carried on to keep them awake at the way back to the car and a very swollen and sore least until the New Year was in. At one minute past finger was my constant reminder for the next few days. midnight the torches were extinguished and the oldies attempted to catch up on some much needed sleep. The weather socked in over night and we awoke to cooler temperatures and drizzle. Debbie and I cycled the 10 New Year's Day greeted us with some more glorious kilometres to Arthur's Pass where we met the other two West Coast sun and I was dismayed to hear the troops for a hot drink. Paul and I then cycled over Arthur's discussing a slothful day reading and snoozing in the sun. Pass to Kelly's Creek reaching some frightening speeds I checked out the map and spotted a town called on the Otira side and were quite thankful that we got Charleston, about 30kms north and announced that that stuck behind a milk tanker on the steepest part of the was where I was going to ride to. A distinct lack of descent. enthusiasm was observed but soon they were all lined up beside their bikes like an oldies picnic group and we were The West Coast lived up to all our expectations and a off!!! mutiny staged by the women ensured that we "camped" the night in a motel. Rain, rain and more rain for the Scenic deviations along the way made the distance seem next day and a half sO we cruised up to Blackball for a like 130kms but eventually the welcome sight of the new night at the Hilton. Interesting place.... - Paul did some Charleston pub appeared and the remaining troops (Karen fast talking and before I knew it we were back on the had returned to camp to read her gardening book) bikes in the torrential rain, heading for the Moonlight dismounted and strolled up to the bar for a beer. Heck of Valley. a long way to go for a 7oz glass of beer and we still had to do the same in reverse! But what the hell!!! After all, "It's beautiful", enthused Paul. "How can you tell when we're still young... .or at least some of us are!!! it's raining too hard to open your eyes?", I mumbled. The four wheel drive track was awash, the hidden Cursing Paul for forgetting the Cellular and considering potholes provided a little excitement that I could well do that a pigeon would take too long to reach Karen, we without, but I'm not a piker and I have to admit that resigned ourselves to the fact that we were only half way there is something very beautiful about the West Coast to our destination and we climbed back on the bikes and bush in the rain. The mist in the valleys gave an air of blasted off in the direction of Punakaiki. Complaints of mystique and the flooded river was awesome!! sore backs and equally sore bums were ringing in my ears as I increased the gap on the first hill. "Not too far to Paul found an old water-race to ferret around in and I go," I called encouragingly from a rock beside the road at can't say that I was disappointed when the side streams the top of the hill as Mr and Mrs Hughes puffed and became too flooded to cross and we were forced to sweated past me. I think that grimace is actually a retreat. By this stage the four wheel drive track was "Debbie enjoying herself face!!", I told myself. invisible altogether under several inches of water and the level was still rising!! A couple of drowned rats peddled With the ratas in full bloom all along the coast the back up the road to the Hilton and the hot shower and kilometres slipped by while I gazed admiringly at them. dinner that followed were very welcome. Paul and I opted for a scenic diversion to Trueman's

We stopped for lunch at the Ballroom and Paul hounded us to take a minor diversion, "just 10 minutes up a side creek", he claimed, to show us something "really amazing". We walked for 10 minutes, then 15 minutes passed, Welsh Creek was looking decidedly gnarly, 20 minutes passed. Mutterings of discontent could be heard but on we plodded!! After 30 minutes the female contingent stopped in their tracks and advised the illustrious leader that they were staging a mutiny!!! The illustrious leader begged us to reconsider, saying that it was "not much further" sO the happy-faced girls obediently followed. Slipping on slimy, greasy rocks, grabbing handfuls of stinging nettle and being hit by low branches all added to our discomfort until Paul gave a jubilant and relieved shout and announced that we were there!! Where?!? He enthusiastically pointed out a poxy little cave that he insisted was great for Black Water Tubing!! Great!! He dragged us all the way up this grotty little creek for this!! Seeing the humour in it, we trudged back the way we had come and enjoyed the pleasant stroll down the Fox River to the roadend. A wander along the beach after dinner was a fitting end to a very enjoyable day!! With the end of our holiday fast approaching we packed up next morning and headed north to St Arnaud via Westport. Debbie and Karen set off on the bikes for an hour or so before Paul and I picked them up along the way. At Westport I donned cycling apparel and headed off for Inangahua Junction, enjoying the ride through the Buller Gorge despite a couple of very heavy showers. Croesus Track Karen O'Byrne We spent our last night camped beside the shores of Lake Rotoiti and Paul and I made the most of our last Track while Debbie cycled back to help Karen with the opportunity for a good downhill blast by cycling up to dinner. Paul lived up to my expectations and we lost the carpark at the base of Mt Robert. The downhill was track of time ferreting around in the caves and rocky worth all the sweating and puffing to get up there and the outcrops. spectacle of Paul hopping off his bike and lying on the ground on his back a couple of times on the way up was Dinner was of its usual high standard and afterwards I rather amusing. Apparently riding uphill gives the poor raced up to Pancake Rocks to catch the sunset which was old bloke a sore back. absolutely superb. The unparalleled beauty of a West Coast sunset never ceases to amaze me and I sat on the rocks until after dark gazing at the spectacular colours. There was no evidence of backpain on his perilous descent however and I was left to potter down at a far Blue sky, sun and no wind! Another perfect West Coast more sedate pace. Toasty pies for dinner followed by a day beckoned us from the peace of our sandfly-proof gin or three saw us reluctantly retire to our pits not at all tents. It was agreed to give the bikes a rest for a day and keen on the idea of going home. go for a stroll up the Fox River to the caves and a little further upriver to the Ballroom. The Fox is a beautiful The morning dawned crystal clear and we managed one river and the ratas looked magnificent. Debbie and Karen last stroll by the lake before packing up and heading for weren't game to venture into the dark depths of the caves Picton. A huge plate of pancakes for breakfast in Picton and neither was I, but "whimp" is not in my vocabulary before boarding the ferry was an excellent way to end a so I put aside my rampant fears and gingerly followed fantastic trip. Thanks to Paul and Debbie for organising Paul into the caves. I could hardly contain my relief the trip and to Karen who thought she was going to spend when Paul said we'd seen enough and I was glad to see 10 days horizontal with one of the 8 books she had the light of day and let my ragged breathing settle down. brought along!!!!!

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journal
Reference
1992-journal p9
Original pages
Journal 1992, page 9
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scanned journal, docTR OCR (unproofread); trip date unknown
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archive/reports/undated-1992_ten-days-in-the-saddle/report.md
Record id
undated-1992_ten-days-in-the-saddle

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