Sunday 23rd January 2022 and it was time to start my second Tour Te Waipounamu. I had no hesitation in signing up for edition 2, I was fully committed and was happy with how my training had gone this time. The evening before, Brian Alder, race creator and race participant again, gave a brilliantly clear and concise race briefing. It was cool to see some familiar faces and to meet some new ones. The energy was a cocktail of nervousness and excitement with elements of fear. All you need to propel one down the length of the South Island, Right?

I awoke on race day after a decent night’s sleep and rode the few kilometres to the race start at the Cape Farewell lookout. Riders were mingling about, nervously making last-minute checks as well as checking out other riders setups. I was excited to finally be at this point after months of anticipation and training. Time to roll at 7 am.

It was a slower paced start than last year and a very large front group entered the beach section at Collingwood. A whole new adventure will have unfolded by the time I would see the ocean again. I entered the first major climb, the Rameka Trail feeling good and enjoying the ride so far. As I neared the top Jakub Sliacan, appeared, powering up the singletrack with ease. We rode together on and off over the next hours before he pulled away before the Rainy River Road. I got to Murchison in time for a quick resupply at the service station before heading into the dimming light and onto Maruia Saddle. I’ ‘ve cycled this beautiful stretch of gravel many times in various events over the years, unfortunately, the majority has been in the hours of darkness, same scenario this time !

 

 

 

 

 

After a couple of small navigational challenges in the Dredgeville private land section, soon I was rolling down the gravel West Bank road before hitting the sealed road to Springs Junction as 1 am approached. Here I decided to keep riding over Lewis Pass and onto Boyle Village getting there in the dead of night before 3 am, I went directly to pick up my food box from the trailer parked up for TTW riders. Checking the tracker I saw that Jakub was camping somewhere close. Down by the roadside shelter, I sorted my food, lubed my chain and laid out my sleeping bag to get some sleep. That was a massive day,  384kms in the legs for Day One.The odd truck passing on the highway disturbed my slumber and then a cyclist appeared, it was Patrick Garceau. We had a brief chat before he went on to pick up his food box. The light of a new day was emerging so I decided to gather my thoughts and then all my stuff, before heading into Day 2.

From my experience the previous year, I knew this would be a tough day with considerably less kilometres covered. The trail leading to Lake Sumner is beautiful and rugged and is challenging to ride. There is lots of getting off and on the bike to negotiate roots, windfall and a few tricky swingbridges. Jakub had caught up, after a longer sleep at Boyle River and we arrived at  Lake Sumner together before heading into the hills, passing Lake Mason and on towards the formidable Dampier Range. It was a beautiful clear day, not too hot and I was feeling good. The main climb is a long Hike A Bike (HAB) through the tussocks. I emptied my tent and sleeping bag from my front roll pack  and stuffed it into my small back-pack and lifted my bike over my head to rest on my shoulders/pack. This is not a hands-free bike carry but is more efficient than pushing and lifting through the tussocks in my opinion. Jakub was ahead in the distance and disappeared over the top with a remarkable silhouette against the blue sky. A Fun descent spewed me out at the Ramshackle Andersons hut, where I had camped last year with eventual winner Ollie Whalley.

 

 

 

The light was fading once again as I  made my way through the sprawling private Mt White Station, a keen photographer Dominic Blissett, following the race, was the only other light I seen as the skies darkened. After a bit of faffing around to get onto the Coal Pit Spur trail, it was now very late and the fatigue was setting in. Just before the entry to the second Craigieburn single track section, I spotted a small shipping container, opened the doors for a look inside and apart from a few small pallets was empty. Perfect for a tired bikepacker at the end of a big day. I did not bring a sleeping mat and the hard floor was not the most comfortable but I was happy to be lying horizontal and resting.

 

I was moving again as the first light slowly infiltrated the skies and Day 3 was beginning, the singletrack of the Dracophyllum and Hogs Back tracks was great fun in the cool crisp mountain air. I was shot out into Castle Hill Village somewhere around 7 am, a short shift on the highway before turning off onto the quiet gravel road past Lake Lyndon. After passing Lake Coleridge I came upon a farmer moving a large flock of sheep going in the same direction. The sheep packed the road from side to side, there was no way to pass, I chilled and ate some food. Soon Jakub rolled up, and we chatted about the previous day’s endeavours and where we had slept. The sheep scurried into their new pasture and we zoomed off into the lifting fog waving goodbye to the friendly farmer.

 

 

 

 

I got to the important resupply of Methven town before 10 am, a quick dash around the local Four Square shop, stuffed my face, then my packs with food and rolled out into the plains through the farms. The next resupply would be Tekapo 191 km away through the epic Two Thumb Range with the Highest point on the course and numerous HAB sections. The easy flat riding was an opportunity to mentally reset and reflect and also a chance to get to know Jakub a bit better as we spun towards the hills. Climbing towards Mesopotamia after stopping to fill my bottles at a small creek I had to remove my shoes and put on fresh socks as my feet were starting to hurt after being more or less wet for days. At this point, Jakub pulled away and I would not see him again.

I enjoyed the fast gravel roads alongside the wide-ranging braids of the Rangitata River before finally hanging a left and into the farm to start ascending the terraces through many gates, as the views grew in grandeur. Jakub could not be seen ahead and I did not know how far back the next racer was, I pushed on into the evening reaching the bottom of the Bullock Bow Saddle HAB before 7 pm. Last year, because of swollen painful feet due to inappropriate footwear I pushed this whole section barefoot. It was not that comfortable but I’m convinced it was better than keeping those shoes on.  This time, with much better footwear , I put my head down and pushed to the top. Pretty much as I got to the saddle a dense cloud rolled over and instantly the epic views evaporated. ah well, let’s keep moving!

 

 

 

As I made my way to Royal Hut, which sits beside a stream in the valley before the route takes you up to the highest point of the course, Stag Saddle, I had a decision to make, an important decision. a potentially crucial decision. To stay at the Hut or push on over the top in the dark. Last year in TTW1,  I made a huge all-night push through here and out to Tekapo which could have been a factor in my complete slowing down in the days that followed as I searched frustratingly for energy that would not come.

This year, I decided to stop and rest, it was not yet 10 pm, and a guy outside on a mattress indicated the Hut was full so I erected my Z packs Hexamid tent for the first time in this race and was happy to jump inside out of the cold. This ended up being a long stop but I felt I needed it. During the night I heard a rider roll up close to my tent. It was Bruce, I know now that he’d stopped for a while and slept on the floor in the hut but at that moment  I thought that he had continued.

 

 

 

I pulled myself out of my tent somewhere close to 5 am and got my shit together to begin Day 4 with some Hike a Bike action up to Stag Saddle. It was quite a nice morning and I was soon warm as I meandered my way across streams and through the rocks and Tussocks. Soon I caught a glimpse of a headlight further up the track at a much higher elevation than me. As the trail got steeper, I stuffed my backpack and flung my bike over my head and onto my shoulders and accepted the fact that I had a bit of a grunt to get over the top. Approaching the top before 7 am, the light of the new day was fantastic and the surrounding mountains were coming alive with beautiful orange Golden hues. Getting to Stag Saddle at this time with the views of Lake Tekapo below was a big highlight of this race.

 

 

Once again I could see Bruce in the distance as he sidled the loose scree track along the slopes of Beuzenberg Peak. After this, the rideable section down the ridge is simply outstanding, feels like you are riding through a postcard.

It was great fun racing down past the Rex Simpson Hut and then the Camp Stream Hut. My drop Bar set-up certainly had its limitations in sections of this race and a flat bar set-up would be more efficient for sure on the steeper stuff, but for other long stretches, I appreciated the comfort and flexibility it offered.

After this, racers are greeted to a slow rugged section with another very steep HAB on a very narrow track that hangs on the side of a mountain, then finally it’s ridable pretty much down to the lake and the gravel road that leads into the delights of Tekapo.

 

 

I had my only sit-down stop with coffee and food at the Greedy Cow Cafe in Tekapo, it was a nice reset and a chance to look ahead to to next part of this adventure. At this point, Bruce was 20-odd km up the road and Jakub was ripping it up 70-odd km ahead close to Lake Benmore. I felt good and knew anything was possible and these gaps could be closed, I rolled out of town and out along the canals to be greeted by some wicked strong crosswinds. The views out over Lake Pukaki towards the majestic Mt Aoraki were simply stunning. The Hot winds and then the dreaded Tekapo River road meant it felt like I was making slower progress than I would have liked.

 

 

 

 

After the Haldon Arm Campground on towards the private land of Black Forest Station, a deceiving amount of relentless climbs mean that the legs are well loaded by the time I reach Otematata. I did not see one person for hours and arriving in Otematata at about 9.30 pm everything was closed and quiet. At this point, I felt like I could do with more food to get me across the Hawkdun Range but I was not prepared to wait for the shops to open the next day. So I moved on into the night up past the Otematata station, climbing higher on farm tracks before eventually dropping down for some nice riding along the Otematata River. Not long after the private land section ended and before a big push started, I had a 30-minute power nap. The night was calm and peaceful, bright stars twinkled but some rolling dark clouds were ominous.

As I pushed up the incredibly steep tracks for what felt like an age, the winds were picking up and the temperatures were dropping and soon there were some icy drops glittering in my headlight beam. As I climbed higher and more exposed to the elements I was starting to feel tired and getting cold so I decided to slightly detour to the Chimney Creek Hut to get warm and hopefully rest. This hut is constructed fully of Galvanised sheets and wood, inside there is a wooden frame bunk, but no mattresses. I got out of my cycling gear and wriggled into my sleeping bag, the cold wind punched through the Hut walls and getting warm did not come easy, therefore sleep was mostly elusive.

An hour or so later someone came to the Hut door and entered, I peered out from my sleeping bag at a dark silhouette in the doorway as the icy wind blew in and engulfed the already frigid dwelling. It was Bruce, whom I had not met at this point. He was cold and had the same idea as me, to get shelter and get warm and to have some respite from the elements. Bruce tried to rest and sleep but it was too cold, and soon he was up looking out the window at the weather situation. He talked about returning down to Otematata to avoid the weather as the views from the window were not that encouraging. I got myself out of my bag and put on all my kit including my waterproof gear. There was no way I was going back to Otematata, I could not face pushing my bike up to this point again.

Before 9 am we left the relative comfort of the hut and got back on track, there were blue skies on one side but dark clouds ahead. Passing the more appealing looking Ida Railway Hut after 6kms and then the Wire Yards Hut further on. Visibility was down to 30 meters or so, it was cold and the howling wind was blowing the snow sideways. Looking behind I could not see Bruce, unsure if he was there or had he popped into one of the Huts. I pushed on towards Walking Spur and over the high-point of 1643 meters with one mission in mind, to get off this mountain as quickly as possible. I felt comfortable and not too cold, except for my fingers which was generating my internal heat from pushing so hard. My phone battery had now died so I did not get any photos of this section.

By lunchtime, I was spending a large amount of money on food and drinks at the Gilchrists Store in Oturehua. I did ‘n’t care, I was happy to refuel and have gotten through another major section on this race route. Bruce rolled up after 30 minutes or so as I was packing my bike to go.

 

 

Not far out of Oturehua, I noticed my front tyre was low in the air, I stopped to pump it up and moved on. Soon my tyre was going flat again, I stopped, checked the tyre thoroughly and decided to remove the valve core and put in extra sealant. Then my pump was not working properly so I used my only CO2 canister. Eventually, I was sorted and made my way towards Poolburn, rising gradually and into an annoying headwind.

Somewhere between Poolburn and Lake Onslow Bruce pulled up as I was sat roadside pulling up my knee warmers, as the temperatures were dropping in the fading evening light. We rode together or close by but did not talk too much, it felt like we were just getting ours heads down to get it done. The small town of Lawrence was not far away in terms of kilometers but we knew there was some hurdles to cross as we entered more private land around the west side of Mt Teviot, over 8 long and sluggish hours after leaving Oturehua. Once on private land, we are not permitted to camp, so as tiredness set in I pushed on into the dark once more.

Moving across the Lammerlaw tops, just below 1200 meters as the midnight hour came and went, I was now very very tired and it took a huge amount of concentration to ride. It had rained earlier, it was cold and the terrain was, from what I could see clumpy tussock grasses, muddy puddles and sheep shit. It was becoming a bit of a blur and it just felt like a rollercoaster of up and down hills, I just wanted to start losing elevation. Becoming incredibly sleepy I had to remain focused, a wrong move on these slippery descents could have a disastrous outcome, I had to keep going as I was still on private land.

Eventually about 2 am, I noticed Bruce’s light had stopped ahead, I caught up and he said he was going to Bivy under the trees. I did ‘nt think twice about joining, I put up my tent and jumped in my sleeping bag with all my clothes. I knew this was a mistake but I was too exhausted to change.The next few hours were simply uncomfortable resting interspersed with sleeping and waking and just being cold. It must have been 5 am when I peered out of my tent and waited for my bleary eyes to adjust, Bruce was gone, I had no idea when he had left. I gingerly packed up and started riding down the road as the first light made itself known. I was not fully awake as I rode off course, a few unwanted hills then got back on course before flying down through the forest section and into Castle Dent Station where hundreds of sheep were there to greet me. A fast downhill and onto the the Clutha Gold Trail and into Lawerence where the ladies at the Night ‘n Day store did not seem too surprised to see a dirty ragged cyclist order two coffees. I assumed they had seen a cold and similarly ragged Bruce earlier that morning.

It is 150 km to the finish at Slope Point from Lawerence, I saw that Jakub was approx 70 km from finishing and Bruce was more than 20 km up the road. Recharged and somewhat revitalised after coffee and food I rode out of town to face Breakneck Road, a wicked sealed road climb that tops out at just under 400 meters. Clinton, a small settlement on the highway,  90 km from the finish was another opportunity to resupply before the final push. I was ‘nt gaining on Bruce and wondered if I had the legs and necessary Watts to put pressure on him, but anything can happen and I pedalled on as I reflected on the days that went before.

My Friend Mike, who drove from Picton to meet and pick me up was on the road to take a picture before the Slope Point turn off. A couple of more climbs just to remind the legs that this race is super tough and I was then hurtling down the rough track towards the exposed cliffs and the race endpoint, my GPX track ended, and I was there, finished my second Tour Te Waipounamu. What a ride, What an adventure. Jakub who had taken the win some 4.5 hours earlier was there and that was cool to see him again. Bruce had rolled in less than an hour before and he was also there as we had a debrief before heading our separate ways.

Other than seeing Patrick briefly at Boyle, it was only Jakub and Bruce I had seen since back to the road leading into Takaka on Day one and it was certainly fun racing with these two.

Looking back I’m happy with how it all went, I had no serious mechanicals or injuries. I did however feel I was lacking in proper sleep toward the end and I could feel this in my body. The night going over the Hawkduns, with little sleep and then a long push through Poolburn and up and over the Lammerlaw tops certainly sapped a fair amount of energy. However, I did not feel completely extinguished at the end and I was in good spirits at the end of 5 days and 9 hrs of racing.

 

 

 

A massive thank you to Brian Alder for creating this adventure race and awesome route. It truly is a journey. His wife Clare for being there at the start and finish  and all places in between for her contribution to making this race what it is. All the people who helped Brian scout out certain sections, you know who you are.

To all the riders who started, to all those that finished, Congrats for taking on an adventure of a lifetime. I love this community

Thanks to Photographer Dominic Blissett for some great shots from the first half of the race

Thanks to my Wife Mary jo for taking me to the start at Cape Farewell and for the continued support of all my adventures and to Pavi and Clare who looked after business at Vibrant Living Retreat while we were away.

Thanks to my Friend Mikey G for picking me up at Slope Point and Fraser and family for putting us up for a night in Invercargill.

And finally to all the landowners for graciously allowing a bunch of keen bikepackers to traverse your properties and witness some amazing terrain that not many get to see. Thank you.

https://www.tourtewaipounamu.co.nz/about

I do not know who took the photo above, as I whizzed through the gate into the bumpy paddock down the final meters to the finish at slope point. That’s Bruce looking on