The Inland Scenic Route

CHAPTER 4

Biking New Zealand Day 2: Christchurch to Ashley Gorge

Daily distance: 68 km
Total distance: 148 km

Our second day in the saddle was a whole different story than our first…   After arriving back in Christchurch on the bus, we made our way to the campground and then set out to take care of a few errands.  First on the list was to take another shot at lightening our packs.  Despite our initial best efforts to pack the bare essentials, we had paid the price for our greedy materialistic folly on the agonizing uphill to Akaroa, and now were devout minimalists: ”Three shirts? No, two is enough.  Six pair of underwear? That’s crazy!  Four is fine.  Two sticks of deodorant?  Why don’t we just share one?  How about toothbrushes?  Well… no way!  I think we can afford to each have our own toothbrush.”  So, ok, there was still potential to shed a few extra items, but as a wise man once said: minimalism is a journey, not a destination.  Even so, we still managed to abandon 10 or 12 pounds each at the CDC.

Mounting our lighter, re-packed steeds, the bikes felt energized and rearing to hit the open road.  We were in a new frame of mind as well, ready to forget the hills and wind that plagued us to Akaroa, and eager to reintroduce ourselves to biking the fabled Kiwi roads- hopefully replacing our first bad impression with a new, and altogether better one.

Our plan was to follow a slightly circuitous path labeled as the Inland Scenic Route on our map, a wide arc sweeping out west from Christchurch, through the endless farms and sheep ranches that dominate the Canterbury Plains, until we reached the base of the Southern Alps, where our course would take a left turn and head south along the undulating foothills, gradually bending back to the east to converge with the inward curving coast.  The route would probably only take a few hours by car, but for us, three days of hard pedaling was in order.  The first leg of the journey was a slightly uphill 70 kilometer push from Christchurch to a rift in the mountains called Ashley Gorge, outside the small town of Oxford.

The weather was better, though still a bit obstinate.  It started off overcast and we battled a slight headwind for most of the day, even though we were riding in a completely opposite direction than our first day.  By the afternoon it was sunny, and the back country roads we were travelling on were empty.  Aside from one poor decision to take a shortcut down a gravel road that had just recently been graded with more than 3”of loose rock, making riding on the shifting surface next to impossible, the day had gone well.  The night was another story… starting at about 8 o’clock, and lasting well past midnight, a horrendous rain storm relentlessly poured down buckets of water, flooding our campsite, and thoroughly soaking our tent, our sleeping bags, and us.  The owner of the campground said it was the heaviest storm he had seen in over 30 years.

Biking New Zealand Day 3:  Ashley Gorge to Rakaia Gorge

Daily distance: 71 km
Total distance: 229 km

Flopping out of our soggy tent the next morning, and donning waterlogged jerseys, padded shorts, and biking shoes, our morale was being tested once again.  Luckily the sun was shining, and within a few miles everything (at least what we were wearing) was dry.  The tent and our sleeping bags on the other hand, served as a damp reminder of our vulnerability to the elements.  I can assure you that there is nothing less appealing then the thought of slipping into a nice, sodden mummy bag after a long day’s ride.

A pretty constant uphill characterized the second half of this day’s ride, but it was capped off with an exhilarating 30mph decent down into the Rakaia Gorge.  The gorge itself was a natural beauty- a deep channel lined by towering cliffs, carved out over the millennia by a swift running river of milky-turquoise glacial melt water.

Biking New Zealand Day 4:  Rakaia Gorge to Geraldine

Daily distance: 85 km
Total distance: 314 km

A thigh burning climb out of Rakaia Gorge greeted us in the morning.  After that though, it was all downhill, and for once in the history of New Zealand cycling, the wind was at our backs.  We were extremely lucky in this respect because the road to Geraldine was straight as an arrow and exposed for dozens of miles- a contrary wind on this leg would have been a slow and tedious torture.

Geraldine was an unexpected gem in the middle of an otherwise austere landscape.  A quaint little city, with enough curious shops lining the main road to keep you occupied for an afternoon or so, and with the campground right in the middle of town, we were content to relax and recoup for a couple of days.  We sprang for a cabin to give the tent a chance to dry out, and spent two pleasant days perusing the stores, catching up on emails and the blog, seeing the sights (Geraldine happens to boast the world’s largest knit jersey, or sweater as we would call it), and sitting on our porch reading, with a glass of cheap box wine and a plate of crackers and cheese.  Bike touring was starting to be fun.