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MOTORCYCLE
NEW ZEALAND - ON A BUDGET
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We escaped the ‘so called’ resort amidst low cloud. The road twisted up to Lewis Pass and followed the emerald waters of the Lewis River. Then down a gorgeous valley toward the east coast, eventually opening out into lush, smaller hills around the village of Culverden. All was good and we were now heading south to Christchurch,where we were to swap the RT for an F650 Funduro at the NZMR Christchurch office.
When we hit Christchurch, the sun was blazing at a lurvely 28 degrees C, the clouds were gone and the city was looking glorious. We stopped by NZMR and co-owner Gordon Lidgard did the honours of transferring us over to the F650.
Bloody hell, it felt small. Where was the adjustable screen, full fairing, knobs ... and whistles? Why was I squashed with me balls against the tank? Why? Why? Why? Suddenly, I really missed the more expensive RT.
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| "Dear NZMR, I think I made a mistake .." |
Daniela wasn't happy, I wasn't happy and the sun went behind some big bastard clouds. It got cold, as if someone just turned on the air conditioning. The road out of Christchurch was straight and the landscape flat - things had taken a definite turn for the worse. We then hit 130 km of what must have been the most boring (and coldest) stretch of the trip so far. Then we came across highway 79 and made a much welcomed turn for the mountains.
Low cloud obscured most of the expected view, until we got over the first hills at Burkes Pass. Suddenly, the clouds disappeared and the sun reappeared. And if this wasn't enough, the view switched from rolling hills covered in low cloud, to snow capped mountains graced with wisps of white.
Birds started singing, the air filled with the sweet scent of wild flowers and the F650 sprouted wings, turning into a majestic swan. Gently, we rose from the road and swooned through valley and peak. Eagles accompanied us as we skimmed mountain streams ... oh hang on, a bit melodramatic that, but that's what it felt like. Magic it was.
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| The turquoise waters of Lake Takepo. |
It was also the point at which I started to fall for the F650 (and have been a fan ever since). After the initial shock of the "compact" rider and passenger positioning, in comparison to the RT, the F proved to be remarkably versatile. Two up with two Givi bags and lots more luggage never caused it to waiver, and with a bit of working with the gear box, it managed to provide respectable amounts of speed to boot. In fact, by the end of the trip, thanks in part to its off-road capabilities, I'd have to say that it was a more suitable steed than the RT. High praise indeed.
Arriving at Lake Tekapo, another wonder awaited. Fed by the Godley Glacier to the north, Lake Tekapo is a surreal shade of turquoise, thanks to rock sediment held in suspension, supplied by the constantly grinding glacier. That was enough for us to call it a day for any more riding. We checked into a most friendly hostel "Taylor Made" (a big contrast to the previous night), and celebrated our luck with a large plate of poached eggs, beans and toast - luxury!
Monday 21st December (Lake Tekapo - Queenstown)
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| Masses of flowers on the plains above Takepo. We think they're lupins. Does anybody know for sure? |
Oh dear, another planned early morning getaway down the drain, and a 10:30 am start. This left us with no time to explore some of the side roads around Lake Tekapo, as our destination was 250 km away in Queenstown.
I know, 250 km might not sound like a long way, but in the mountainous South Island, this easily translated into a good six or seven hours of twisty roads and magnificent stop-to-gawp scenery.
Heading out of Lake Tekapo, I was somewhat surprised to find the road straighten out along with the countryside, as we droned across a vast plain, amidst, but not through, many a peaked mountain. Although not exactly boring (masses of roadside multicoloured lupins (?) helped), it wasn’t all that interesting either.
The original idea for today was to check out the town of Mount Cook, but as is so often the case in NZ, the road up there also ends there, so you’d have to backtrack to get out. With less than two weeks to ride around, we decided not to do any backtracking.
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| Another bungee jumper awaits boat pickup. |
As we sat on the bike at the turn off, and admired the lower points of Cook (some clouds obscured the peaks), our view suddenly changed from mountain to the rear of a camper van. Of all the places to pull over, these selfish idiots decided to park dead in front of us!
Out stepped Hans & Greta followed by eine kleine fraulein. This little brat promptly stuck her kleine fingers up her kleine nose and proceeded to work at it in an exploratory fashion, non stop, until we finally got bored of our kleine friend's amazing nasal show and hit the road once more.
After some more time on average roads, we were finally rewarded with a twisty roller coaster ride through the Kawarau Gorge, just shy of Queenstown. It's along here that the first bungy jumping establishment (A.J. Hackett) still practices the fine art of scaring people shitless by pushing them off a 71 meter high bridge, into the river below. Not to mention charging them over $100 for the privilege! This is well worth a 20 minute stop over (or longer, if you feel inclined to dare the jump) as you can get a free adrenaline buzz just watching hapless heroes taking plunge after plunge...
Suitably buzzed, we hit Queenstown, checked into our hostel (Alpine Lodge), stuffed ourselves with some pub food and crashed for the night.
Tuesday 22nd December (Queenstown)
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Skippers
canyon. Yes, it is a public road, and it is two way! |
There's only so much motorcycling you can do before it's time for a day off. Today was that day, and what better place to do it than the holiday centre of the Southern Alps, Queenstown.
Since I had been riding the bike for all of the trip, I'd had a good daily dose of adrenaline. However, Daniela, was in obvious need of a good rush.
We briefly considered bungy jumping and quickly dismissed it due to the high cost/ brief payback ratio. Next on the list was good old white water rafting (a tad over NZ$100 each). We opted to go with Queenstown Rafting, as they were the biggest outfit, with seven rafts and two safety kayaks - more chance of being rescued should you find yourself feet up in the rapids, gulping some of NZ's finest water.
Besides, the cost was relatively reasonable and all transportation, equipment and the aforementioned safety factors were included. However, we would soon learn that the rafting itself wasn’t the only adrenaline pumper.
The rafting takes place on the Shotover River. A turquoise, chaotic mass of water, raging through Skipper's Canyon.
But pray, how does one get the rafts and rafters up this canyon? By bus, of course. And said big bus goes along the side of said gorge, along a narrow, single lane, (supposedly two-way) dirt track, about 100 meters above said raging river! And the road was on a cliff, a steep one - straight down! No hard shoulder, no barriers, just a big, wide heavy bus with 12 inches to spare.
Daniela seemed quite calm, I was shitting me pants. Luckily, there were no landslides, no earthquakes (actually, relatively common occurrences there) and no foolish tourists coming the other way. What we would do, I don't know, because reversing on this road was not really an option.
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| Our guide stood up for most of the rapids but unfortunately never fell in. |
After a short ‘safety’ talk (it's more likely that you get smashed in the face from an oar than the rapids) we headed for the back of our raft ('cause we thought that it would be the safest spot). The first half of the trip was relatively easygoing and gave us a chance to practice various rafting techniques while our guide, Jono entertained us with tales of rafting bravado and long winded yarns.
By the time we hit the first rapids, we were ready for more action. "Paddle hard, harder, move, stop!" shouted Jono, as he steered us to where the water dropped off in front of us. "Oh ... my ... Gooo ..." Whoosh.
The front dropped away, shot back up and then pulled the back with it. There was white water everywhere, all I could hear was the roar of the rapids and the shriek of the occupants, as we all held on for dear life.
With adrenal glands beyond empty, we finished the trip with a 170 meter trip down an abandoned gold mining tunnel. Why anyone would make a tunnel to allow a raging torrent through in a bid to find gold is beyond me, but it makes for a cool rafting feature.
With our fears faced and conquered for that day, we headed back to Queenstown for a much needed evening of drinking and bonding with a couple of new found Dutch comrades.
Wednesday 23rd December (Queenstown - Haast)
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| Gravel road out of Queenstown. |
I could have quite happily stayed in Queenstown for longer. There's a motorcycle tour outlet (Off Road Adventures) which supply dirt bikes and gear and explore some of the tracks and trails crossing the many mountains around the town. But alas, we had to be back in the North Island in five days and still had the west coast, with its mountains and glaciers, to explore.
With expectations of extreme twistyness and extravagant views, we aimed for low kms and opted for the west coast town of Haast, which is the other side of the Haast Pass, where we reckoned we'd be passing later that afternoon.
Shortly out of Queenstown, there's a road heading due north to the town of Wanaka cutting out a good chunk of distance. This short cut is dirt for about the first 25 km. Of course, with an F650 dual purpose(ish) bike, gravel roads posed no problems. And what a great road! Climbing steeply out of Queenstown's valley, the road is paved as it zigzags its way from hairpin to hairpin up the steep mountain side. Once the steepness subsided, the road lapsed into well groomed gravel. Although very accessible by dual purpose bikes and most cars, it would have been an effort on a general road bike - shame. The road eventually returned to asphalt, as it headed towards the lakeside community of Wanaka.
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| Me and T'Missus at Lake Hawea. |
Our usual Kiwi lunch of burger (veggie for me) and chips (fries) was consumed before we hit highway 6 north for Haast and the Haast Pass. As the road hugged Lake Hawea, the views just got better and better. As Hawea ended to our right, Lake Wanaka began to our left, with the road snaking around the fingers of the Young Range, just above the shores of the Wanaka.
As lake regressed back to river, we began to climb our way to Haast Pass. I think this had to be the best Pass to date. It's the stuff that bikers dreams are made of. Where many a road promises greatness, only to fall short around the next corner, the Haast Pass promises, delivers and just plain kicks serious arse.
When we eventually got to the township of Haast, I was fulfilled and content. Even the crap they called vegetable stir fry at the local 'restaurant' could not damper my satisfaction.
Ahead of us lay the mountainous west coast and an unusual Christmas day to be spent at the Franz Joseph Glacier....
Rob Harris
Don't forget to tune in to part 3 next week, as well as our mini guide to riding in New Zealand.
