28th December 2021 (a bit of everything!) 70km

Last night in the kitchen about twenty minutes before we returned to the tent, we met Mes and Maria, from Denmark. They have been living in Auckland since just before Covid hit the first time and what a lovely couple. They had driven down heading for Queenstown and then back again, all in just two weeks. They are doing the Routeburn, so we gave them some info and just generally chatted.                                        

Back at the tent, it had to happen, we had a bunch of piss heads, but only being about 9.30pm, not much you can do. Anyway, they'd just think we were a couple of old farts... don't even think it. Julia drifted off to sleep and I lay and listened, as time went on, to a confrontation, by I presume, one or a couple of the campers telling the noisy ones to shut up. There was some language but eventually everyone behave and we were able to get to sleep. 

This morning we woke up about 6am when our resident fly started circling above the tent. He did the same thing yesterday,  noisily buzzing his way around so there was no drifting off again.

We pottered over to the kitchen and had breakfast and then went and dismantled a very sodden tent.  At least it wasn't raining this morning....yet!

Back to the kitchen for a coffee and then we packed up the bikes. Saw Mes and Maria again so said our goodbyes and hit the road about 8.45am.

First stop was the cafe down the road to buy lunch as there are no shops for this next 70km section,  unless you want to take a 12km detour, which we did not.  Packed that away for later and set out on the road for the first few km, as the track ran alongside and there was very little traffic. 

Turned off onto the shingle track which started to wind its way along the edge of Lake Benmore.  There were a lot of boaties parked up at a popular campground named Sailors Cutting. Shortly after that the bike track went onto some private land and into one of the most scenic parts of the day.              

Bikes parked outside the toilets at Sailors Cutting. 

The riding was great, but you had to be watching what you were doing, otherwise it's a recipe for disaster. 

A cautionary sign reminding you not to get too distracted by the scenery. 

Around every turn was another photo op and we were making the most of it. In the more dangerous parts, they did have fences, but there is plenty of opportunity to come to grief. 

I could tell Pete was slightly distracted this morning,  not his usual self. It started when we unceremoniously dumped the sodden flysheet into a black rubbish bag after an unsuccessful attempt to fold it.

The scenery was doing its best to divert his attention,  but I could still tell all was not well in the world of Pete.  This mysterious,  moody man had other things on his mind.

We had been going about 28km, enjoying the ride, admiring the scenery,  but yes, there was something gnawing at his subconscious.  

I suggested we stop for lunch at a very scenic high point and his mood brightened. Oh so he must just be hungry, after all you can't expect seven weetbix, half a banana and half a tub of blueberries to do the trick for a man like this.

As we got the lunch things out, the sun finally broke through the clouds and Pete sprung into action. "Quick Ju, help me spread out the flysheet and groundsheet", which I duly did, and finally he was able to relax his shoulders and his face rearranged itself into a heartfelt smile as he ate his lunch and sipped his coffee.

He even managed a brainwave of grabbing out his toy dustbrush and sweeping off any offending grass or leaves from the groundsheet and restoring it to it's formerly pristine condition.   He was even humming while he did it.

We packed up the flysheet, reunited with the tent inner inside the tent bag making a tidy bundle on his back carrier.  Pete wore the wide satisfied smile of a man who's just managed to dry four loads of towels and have them tidily folded in the airing cupboard.  You know that smile.

I have decided to call my bike squeaky.  No idea where the noise is coming from but it sounds as though the bike could fall apart at any minute.... and eventually it may well do. 

Apart from the scenery, the best part of the ride was the lack of wind.  Then we arrived at Benmore Dam and so did the wind. We were now riding on a small 80km limit road. Around Lake Aviemore are numerous  campgrounds. You put your money in an envelope and pitch your tent or park your van. The vast majority of the occupants are boaties and there is certainly some money parked up around these lakes. What doesn't change is the attitude of some of these guys when towing their penis substitutes. Too fast, too close.    

Saw a Mr Whippy pull out of a section of one campsite, so flagged him down. He told us to turn around and go 50 metres back up the road, to his next block. We duly did and sat with the wind at our backs licking our ice creams before they melted.  As we ate the ice creams we pondered how much money Mr Whippy would make in a day and agreed it would have to be in the thousands.

Back on the bikes and the head wind was now very strong. We still had 24kms to go to get to Kurow and it was a slog.  Just as we were entering Kurow,  a young, slick, fast bikepacker raced past us on the track.  Shortly after we saw the Kurow Holiday Park across the highway,  so rode across the grass verge and the highway to book in before him.  Ha! You have to get up early to beat this old dog!

The camp was very full and we got one of the last pitches. The rain was closing in and the temperature had dropped to about 11 degrees. It was seriously cold. Tent up, Ju went for a shower, I blew up the beds and got the sleeping bags sorted. Then I went and showered. When I came out, it had been drizzling quite heavily and the temperature had dropped even lower. Man, it was cold. 

Walked to the only place open in town, the local pub. Pretty much as you'd expect it to be. It was chocka and the food was just your stock standard pub fair. Got a couple of drinks and two chicken burgers. 

Got some info from an Irish girl working the bar about Danseys Pass. The Irish waitress was a keen outdoors woman and asked us about our trip. When we mentioned we'd be going over danseys pass, she enthusiastically started telling us all about it.

"Oh yes, washboard gravel, tight corners and stock trucks....you're gonna love it!", she said, without a trace of sarcasm in her voice. It's beautiful up there, and did I mention the wind and the dust?!
Our ideas of beautiful are so far removed from this, I began thinking what a perfect match she'd be for Hard Yakka from Burkes Pass.
"It's a great ride" she continued, oblivious to the pained looks on our faces, "tough, but yeah, a real slog", as if this was a good thing.

Tomorrow we've got a 43km day to a campground partway up the pass. A high tomorrow of 9 degrees? They do know it's Summer here don't they? We will be joining the sleeping bags together tonight for sure. 

Rain is forecast tonight... Yipee😞 Bought some stuff for tomorrow at the local Four Square and wandered back to the camp kitchen where we struck up conversation with a lady from Dunedin as we drank our coffees.

Also had a guy come in and start chatting. His name was Malcolm and he now works for Oamaru Stone, but used to be a stock driver, shipping stock all over the country. Another lady from Dunedin came in and we all chatted about this part of the country. These are the experiences that you can't buy. Real people with tales to tell. Wrote the blog, uploaded the photos and off to bed.