Le tour de D'Uruille - a tale of many hills
The long and gruelling climb from Titirangi Bay (Grant Newton)
f f faitangi Day 2002 fell on a Wednesday; not a t n / traditional long weekend but a couple of days' Y V leave and we had 5 days to explore. Pelorus Bridge and its fine stand of native tall timber was an idyllic place to start the trip and although it was early February, the mornings were slightly chilly as the skies were crystal clear. Now, activities of the club are rately formal so it was with some amusement and appropriateness thatwe pitched our tents and flies in a section of the campground marked
"informal camping". On every trip there is a clown and on this particular trip, Roger Bolam performed the role superbly by posing beside the sign in a white shirt and tie.
Grant Newton
This looked like an impressive mountain biking opportunip; in fact it turned out to be possibly the finest cycle tour in NZ. With some good weather, remote roads and views in every direction, this was surely the best way to spend an extended
WaitangiWeekend.
The sun shone, the pedals turned and then with onl5 10 kilometres on the clock, the lattes were consumedl A Rai Valley we left the main road and headed towards oul destination, French Pass. With every pass there is normall5 a bit of a climb, and although this pass happened to be a sea level there was certainly a climb; in fact, more thar one along the way.
The climbs were hot as the sun beat down mercilessly Ice creams were consumed at Okiwi Bay before the nex hot climb, which came with a convoy of campervans passin by and a motorist who threw Mackintosh toffees out t< each cyclist!
Tramping and Mountaineering 2001/200
The views spread out to the west and soon to the east as well. The road wound its way along the ridgeline, and by now the sealed tarmac was behind us and the quiet gravel road offered magic travel. By the time Okura peak was reached, we finally hadabreezeto keep us cooler and as we approached French Pass we adjourned to our more normal form of transport - foot. We descended to a lookout to see the water passing through French Pass, the dramatic tidal rip. When we returned in the evening, we saw the rip in the reverse direction.
DOC has a small campground at French Pass, but unlike most it comes with a booking system and a caretaker, whom we were warned on arrival was less than friendly. It wasn't long before "Happy" had made his mark but luckily we had a site and the grumpy bugger had departed to leave us in peace.
The logistics of getting around the route involved boats and we awoke to begin our day with the first boat trip - a short pleasant journey on flat water across to Kapowai Bay on D'Urville Island. Ahead lay a gruelling climb to reach our accommodation for the next two nights, the D'Urville Island community hall. We began the steep slog through lovely native bush, but as the climb continued, the sun shone brighter and the shirts began to be peeledoff. Finally with great views back to the mainland, we had a gentle descent to reach the hall. Now, this was no cramped 6bunk forest hut and Harry Smith rode past, maybe in disgust, but probably due to lack of recognition of such accommodation. Or maybe Harry was having hallucinations, as there was no wind and no rain; it just didn't seem right. It wasn't miserable; in fact Harry had recognised the sun by shedding his shirt! The large octagonal hall came complete with kitchen and shower, table tennis table and record player (complete with vinyl from the "Long v
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The afternoon ride led us towards the northwest of the island, where dense native bush gave way to bare open farmland and views that extended across to Mt Taranaki. Pori Hardy was a beautiful area and ducking south, Greville Harbour offered more spectacular sights. In fact, back at the hall the great views continued as we looked out across the sea from possibly the most scenic shower one could imagine. Sunset across the water from the top of the island was dramatic and seemed to conclude our evening well - if it hadn't been for a fall by Paul. His grazes were attended to, but it must have been an uncomfortable night.
We awoke to anothergood day, though much cloudier. Bruce and Roger had obviously missed the luxuries of home and chose to head offthe gravel path and plummeted down some single track in search of a latte and a feed of blue cod, which I understand was very good. Fiona, Wendy, Harry and yours truly contemplated another lunch of pita bread and cheese with our journey to the southwest corner of the island.
Unfortunately a high proportion of the limited roads on the island are private, limiting the cycling, but a polite phone call had ensured permission to use some roads in this comer of the island. The views to the mainland were great, the hills huge, and Harry enjoyed a swim at the beach. The 500-mehe ascent after the pleasant stop on the beach was a killer in warm humid conditions, with cool breezes nipping us once we arrived back on top of the island.
Roger once again wore his tie and 'twas a finely presented dinner that evening. Bruce, Fiona and I then set off to the top of Mt Ears in the evening as the rough weather began to set in - no sunset tonight. The rain arrived and even the biwying Harry was forced inside for the night.
We awoke to wild conditions and concem about whether we would get off the island, but a call to the boat operator reassured us that the misery was only at altitude. Our descent to Kapowai Bay was in morning peak hour traffic; the two vehicles spotted doubled the tally for the 2-day stay. Down at sea level, the conditions were indeed much better as the sea was almost calm during our crossing to Titirangi Bay, more than an hour's travel away.
Low cloud was lurking and humid, muggy conditions greeted us as we looked up at the steep winding gravel road ahead. It weaved its way all the way from sea level up into the cloud and beyond to somewhere far too high. We zigzagged our way upwards for 500 metres to a cool vantage point where the road flattened - we may have been excited by managing the climb, but another 250 metres of uphill lay aheadl A few of us had had to make several rest stops already while we watched Fiona and Bruce power their way up without a single stop. Now the conditions were decidedly cooler and the occasional flat or downhill stretch eased us back into the climbing before the rapid and exhilarating descent to lunch at Kenepuru Saddle.
The squealing on my bike indicated it was now time to replace the brake pads. Pedalling onwards we reached The Portage and a backpackers lodge that allowed us a chance to venture into the warmth and out of the forecast rain and hail. With the appealing smell of food from the bar, Grant and Bruce suddenly came under unexpected pressure to deliver in the kitchen - fortunately the troops were not disappointed and the evening was well finished off by a soak in the hot spa.
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We awoke to a beautiful morning and the forecast bad weather had obviously passed by very quickly. The sun shone and the water was flat as we pedalled around to Te Mahia to meet the Queen Charlotte Walkway, which was to offer some wonderful mountain biking. Meeting the farmer who had been living there for years, Roger contemplated the property development opporfunities. While Bruce raced the track, the rest of us meandered our way around the bays and back towards Anakiwa for lunch.
While I sat and enjoyed lunch and a swim at Davy's Bay, I couldn't help but laugh as I watched a poser in a flash jet boat run aground. As I took another bite of lunch it was amusing watching them roll up their designer clothing, hop overboard and attemptto push the boat offthe sandbar. It was hot, sunny and windless - this is how summer is meant to be.
Unfortunately it was time to return to Picton, but a broken chain slowed Harry and a water taxi trip was required (trying to fix it with pliers and insulation tape was never going to work!) . .. or was it? Upon reaching Picton, the ferocious winds in Cook Straight had halted the ferries. While Picton is a lovely spot it never seems that good when a delay of 30 hours is encountered.
The group was Bruce Smith, Wendy Shuker, Paul Abbott, Jane Perkins, Fiona Pratt, Harry Smith, Roger Bolam and
GrantNewton.
Tramping and Mountai neering 2001 /2002
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