Riding in Europe
A preliminary to the route des grandes alps tour.
The refuge Miage sits at 1560 in a high valley under the towering massif of Dome de Miage
For the locals who know it is a short walk of 1 hour to experience the sun set on the massif with a glass of beer or fine wine before retiring inside for dinning. The specialty of the house is a fondue with the local mushrooms, and so this was the choice for us.
Two beers before dinner sitting outside after the 1 hour walk from the valley floor (on track or 4 wheel road)
The refuge is on the route of the tour du Mt Blanc - just a few walkers there this night - one from Sydney who heard us talking (he had completed the tour in 10 days with his father of 83yrs) and had walked from Chamonix to get away from the crowds of this mountain metropolis.
So fine dining of fondue followed by a offering of the house - a glass of locally produced
genepi (I'm glad there was no naked light around otherwise there might have been a problem). It made for interesting walk down in the dark - was it the road wobbling or just my head.
Génépi can be made at home through the simple addition of prepared herbs to vodka or grain alcohol. Each Alpine mountaineer or refuge has their own recipe for génépi, but a generic recipe for a liter would require forty flowers and forty grams of sugar to be added to 40% alcohol by volume.
But the riding.
Those white wall tyre's give it the impression of an old classic, but we all know that it is a modern carbon speed machine and that the guy riding it is an old classic !! Beau Rapley
With all the pieces of the bike finally here (one bag with skewer and peddles and clothes took their own time) it was time to test the legs.
From Saint Gervais to St Nicolas and then around past the Bettex Telepherique, down a narrow and rough cracked old tar road to the find a connection to Megeve A quick 8kms on good road to visit and then home. A local rider went past with some enthusiasm but the legs were there to give chase and stay with him. He dived off on a side road soon and was gone.
Narrow country roads - steep at times but surrounded by peaks reaching to the sky on a cloudless day. What more to ask.
Perhaps the chance to catch up with some others tomorrow although I did get a txt from Dallas saying it was hotter than he expected, and that was before him and Barry went for a ride.
The Mtn behind the bike is just the biggest in Europe Mt Blanc.
the second photo is at Miage and the third outside the house.
Thursday, September 5, 2013
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
a love story
A love story
Each year a small diverse group of people meet at 4 or 5 different venues around New Zealand for one reason - they are in love, with the sport of skiing, but it is not just the skiing but also the competition.
Masters ski racing draws this diverse group to compete from all different parts, from Hong Kong, from Winton, Auckland and Chch. Everyone comes for the skiing and also for the competition.
We all love the competition, we love the winning, and hate a bit the losing, but we enjoy the race and the company.
We enjoy the family of skiers, the quarrels, the tribulations, we pick each other up when we fall down and feel for the skiers who miss a gate, cheer for the competitor when he or she has a good run, regardless if their time beats you in the end.
We race in a sport that is very unique - the course is laid down a steep icy mountain side that has hugh variation in pitch angle and consistency. In slalom maybe 30 gates drilled into the snow (or more lately the ground) in what appears to the outsider a absolute confusion of red and blue poles. Even to the racers it requires some ‘course checking’ to establish the line, and then to figure out the fastest way to ski the line - the magic route between the gates that will get you down the mountain first.
34 gates in less than 30secs and to win it means that you will beat the opposition sometimes by only 2 / 100ths of a second over two runs. Yes in 60secs the result can come down to less than the time it takes to tap a key board, or blink a eye.
To be beaten by a second is enormous in one run of 30 secs, and if you are more than 1.5 secs of the pace then then run is analysis in the mind over and over to see where on earth you were soooo slow. We are talking just 1.5 secs. here.
Its the same in other sports isn’t it. In swimming and athletics the winner is often fritters of a second part. The same - I think not. Athletics - a running surface that is exactly the same start to finish, in swimming - the pool here is exactly the same as the pool in Barcelona, but in skiing every inch of the course is different every time, but I get lost . . … . .
This group of racers are in love . . with the sport of ski racing and the sport of skiing. For most it began from the very first time they slid down the hill - can they remember the exact moment - perhaps not, but many will.
Each year a small diverse group of people meet at 4 or 5 different venues around New Zealand for one reason - they are in love, with the sport of skiing, but it is not just the skiing but also the competition.
Masters ski racing draws this diverse group to compete from all different parts, from Hong Kong, from Winton, Auckland and Chch. Everyone comes for the skiing and also for the competition.
We all love the competition, we love the winning, and hate a bit the losing, but we enjoy the race and the company.
We enjoy the family of skiers, the quarrels, the tribulations, we pick each other up when we fall down and feel for the skiers who miss a gate, cheer for the competitor when he or she has a good run, regardless if their time beats you in the end.
We race in a sport that is very unique - the course is laid down a steep icy mountain side that has hugh variation in pitch angle and consistency. In slalom maybe 30 gates drilled into the snow (or more lately the ground) in what appears to the outsider a absolute confusion of red and blue poles. Even to the racers it requires some ‘course checking’ to establish the line, and then to figure out the fastest way to ski the line - the magic route between the gates that will get you down the mountain first.
34 gates in less than 30secs and to win it means that you will beat the opposition sometimes by only 2 / 100ths of a second over two runs. Yes in 60secs the result can come down to less than the time it takes to tap a key board, or blink a eye.
To be beaten by a second is enormous in one run of 30 secs, and if you are more than 1.5 secs of the pace then then run is analysis in the mind over and over to see where on earth you were soooo slow. We are talking just 1.5 secs. here.
Its the same in other sports isn’t it. In swimming and athletics the winner is often fritters of a second part. The same - I think not. Athletics - a running surface that is exactly the same start to finish, in swimming - the pool here is exactly the same as the pool in Barcelona, but in skiing every inch of the course is different every time, but I get lost . . … . .
This group of racers are in love . . with the sport of ski racing and the sport of skiing. For most it began from the very first time they slid down the hill - can they remember the exact moment - perhaps not, but many will.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Tuesday night riding 11th Sept 2012
Tuesday night riding
Tuesday night riding - every Tuesday during the winter we have been riding under lights. On my bike and helmet I have about 1800 lumens so for sure I can see where to go.
Sometimes this winter the riding has been nicer than others, and earlier in the winter the enthusiasm levels were higher amongst the crew.
During that cold snap - one or two months ago we had some wonderful nights with stars above, frost crunching under the wheels below, breath condensing in the night air, frozen hard sand tracks on the deltas to ride on, and companions to ride with.
As the winter continued the numbers have dropped away and we have just a few riders going out.. . one or two or 5, . . . . . . .and so when it came to Tuesday this week and the 'big snow' arrived Beau decided in his wisdom to cancel the night, but hey . . . . it was Tuesday and so lights on and out the door. Fully rugged up as I left the warmth of the house I turned first towards Frankton, but decided that no one would go to the beach since it was a cancelled night.
I u-turned and headed on the 29er along the track toward Jacks Point. Funny thing was that even though we had a slight southerly, and to the south I could see another snow laden storm front coming, I soon warmed up and had to stop and remove clothing. Light weigh Goretex rain jacket - off, Buff headgear - off, buff neck gater - off. Now just three layers on top - long sleeve wool, Patagonia zip neck and old Patagonia Wind Jacket; and three layers on the bottom - cycle bib, long johns and light weight Macpac over pants (taped shut at the bottom, . . . ah and of course booties over the shoes.
So into the night. The snow pattern from this storm was vary variable. No snow on the track from home around the golf course and towards Jacks Point - just a dash in shady patch's but the track is basically hard and fast. Only at the Jacks Point boundary do I strike snow - about 7cms or so., and this makes for interesting riding as I access the Jacks Point level and take off across the edge of a groomed fairway, and then through some short grass paddocks. ( all in 7cms of fresh ) The swirling snow makes it interesting riding as well. Past the club house ( a ghost house with only mannequins standing inside) and along snowy lanes to Beau's house.
The brakes squeal loudly as I stop outside his window and the look of surprise on his face makes the ride worthwhile all by itself.
I step just inside onto the dog rug. It's hot - well at least the temp difference is marked. A short conversation and back into the dark, squealing down the hills - picking my way between snow flakes and road paddles.
I only fall once - on the steep descent out of Jacks back onto the track - but it's soft so no problem.
The ride home continues the surreal experience. Alone in the night and loving every second of it. Back onto the track at Kelvin Heights and a blaze of lights - top and bottom, follow a short distance behind. Not waiting to see who else is crazy I put he 'pedal to the metal' and come back along the track towards home at some speed. Had the big wheels rolling along. Halfway back to Frankton I slow as I enter the 'snow zone' and the compacted surface on the bridges adds some excitement. Brendan pulls up behind with a ' hope you weren't just out cruising because I just had a good work out catching up?'
Another mad bastard enjoying his Tuesday night riding in Queenstown.
Wouldn't have missed it for the world.
Tuesday night riding - every Tuesday during the winter we have been riding under lights. On my bike and helmet I have about 1800 lumens so for sure I can see where to go.
Sometimes this winter the riding has been nicer than others, and earlier in the winter the enthusiasm levels were higher amongst the crew.
During that cold snap - one or two months ago we had some wonderful nights with stars above, frost crunching under the wheels below, breath condensing in the night air, frozen hard sand tracks on the deltas to ride on, and companions to ride with.
As the winter continued the numbers have dropped away and we have just a few riders going out.. . one or two or 5, . . . . . . .and so when it came to Tuesday this week and the 'big snow' arrived Beau decided in his wisdom to cancel the night, but hey . . . . it was Tuesday and so lights on and out the door. Fully rugged up as I left the warmth of the house I turned first towards Frankton, but decided that no one would go to the beach since it was a cancelled night.
I u-turned and headed on the 29er along the track toward Jacks Point. Funny thing was that even though we had a slight southerly, and to the south I could see another snow laden storm front coming, I soon warmed up and had to stop and remove clothing. Light weigh Goretex rain jacket - off, Buff headgear - off, buff neck gater - off. Now just three layers on top - long sleeve wool, Patagonia zip neck and old Patagonia Wind Jacket; and three layers on the bottom - cycle bib, long johns and light weight Macpac over pants (taped shut at the bottom, . . . ah and of course booties over the shoes.
So into the night. The snow pattern from this storm was vary variable. No snow on the track from home around the golf course and towards Jacks Point - just a dash in shady patch's but the track is basically hard and fast. Only at the Jacks Point boundary do I strike snow - about 7cms or so., and this makes for interesting riding as I access the Jacks Point level and take off across the edge of a groomed fairway, and then through some short grass paddocks. ( all in 7cms of fresh ) The swirling snow makes it interesting riding as well. Past the club house ( a ghost house with only mannequins standing inside) and along snowy lanes to Beau's house.
The brakes squeal loudly as I stop outside his window and the look of surprise on his face makes the ride worthwhile all by itself.
I step just inside onto the dog rug. It's hot - well at least the temp difference is marked. A short conversation and back into the dark, squealing down the hills - picking my way between snow flakes and road paddles.
I only fall once - on the steep descent out of Jacks back onto the track - but it's soft so no problem.
The ride home continues the surreal experience. Alone in the night and loving every second of it. Back onto the track at Kelvin Heights and a blaze of lights - top and bottom, follow a short distance behind. Not waiting to see who else is crazy I put he 'pedal to the metal' and come back along the track towards home at some speed. Had the big wheels rolling along. Halfway back to Frankton I slow as I enter the 'snow zone' and the compacted surface on the bridges adds some excitement. Brendan pulls up behind with a ' hope you weren't just out cruising because I just had a good work out catching up?'
Another mad bastard enjoying his Tuesday night riding in Queenstown.
Wouldn't have missed it for the world.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Tour de Grande Alpes Sept 2012
1st Sept Sat Day 0
Fly to Geneva
pu at the airport and drive to Thonon les Bains (36km down the side of the lake)
2nd Sept Sun Day 1
Thonon-les-Bains -> St Jean de Sixt 80kms
The Col des Gets (1 170 m), the first pass on the Great Alps Route and the Col de la Colombière (1613 m)
3rd Sept Mon Day 2
St Jean de Sixt -> Bourg Saint Maurice 90kms
Col des Aravis (1486 m) and col les Saisies and then climb Cornet de Roseland (1850meters) cross and descend to Borg Saint Marice.
4th Sept Tues Day 3
Bourg Saint Maurice -> Saint Michael de Maurienne 132km
The Col de l’Iseran (2 764 m) is the summertime link between the two high Savoyard valleys, the Tarentaise and the Maurienne. This pass, created specially for tourists and certainly one of the most beautiful in the Alps, is definitely the highest. Between Val-d’Isère and Bonneval, in the heart of the Vanoise National Park, this section is simply magnificent.
5th Sept Weds Day 4
Saint Michael de Maurienne -> Briancon 61km
Climb Col de telegraphe 1. 570m on the way up to the col du Galibier. Col du Galibier is the mythical passage of the Tour of France (53 tims)
6th Sept Thurs Day 5
Briancon -> Briancon / rest or ride. Some fantastic rides around here.
7th Sept Fri Day 6
Briancon -> Barcelonnette 115km
cols d’Izord and / col de Vars - great two pass ride
8th Sept Sat Day 7
Barcelonnette -> Beuil 80km
Col de la Bonette and Col de la Cayolle 2300m,
These passes are not among the highest, the often twisting roads, in an exuberant setting, lead up to the mountain summits. Fantastic little hotel
9th Sept Sun Day 8
Beuil – Saint Martin de Vesubie 59km
Our blog says this is the best ride of the tour
10th Sept Mon Day 9
Saint Martin de Vesubie -> Nice 78km
On this route, the Route des Grandes Alpes plays leapfrog from one valley to another.
Always on the edge of the Mercantour National Park, ski resorts rub shoulders with traditional villages of the south.
The atmosphere mdéiterranéenne is increasingly felt. Gorges Piaon announce Sospel, behind the city before the sea front
11th Sept Tues Day 10
Nice -> Nice - non riding
12th Sept Weds
Depart Return to the World
Cost: all hotels., (all breakfasts and a couple dinners) rental van / petrol, driver wages and their accommodation, special designed cycle top and booklet
Between $2.333 - $3.000 NZ land cost.
As close as I can do it now without checking all hotel prices - Note: this based on a price last time.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Saturday, January 29, 2011
My first day as a downhiller
The first Day or my first day as a downhiller
Sunday 21st January
A ‘momentous day for New Zealand biking
I turned up to the opening dressed as a road biker not a downhill and stood patiently in line with the others - how many - well the rumour is that skyline did 1000 rides that day - at a average of 4 rides that’s about 250 riders - all waiting at the bottom. Downhill rides - full face helmets perched on their heads - kids looking excited with their dads, girls and boys in raggedy pants / dusty and proven, armour full body and legs. knees elbows. I did feel slightly out of place in the line with the ‘bikers’ lycra on .... but hey - I did have a bike.
Well even that was causing a few smiles. My Scott Pro Racing hard tail is just that - a Pro cross country racing bike. It has done years and years with me - riding adventure races around the world, cross country events here, the Bannockburn Classic and a million miles doing Southern Traverse checkouts - through some of the roughest mtn biking available, but a downhill bike it isn’t.
I’m not sure if the girl in the line behind me was smiling at the bike or the clothes but I will come back to her later.
Ceremonies time - our Major took the time to remind the Chairman of Skyline of his quote “Skyline Gondolas and bikes will never mix’ . He stood sheepishly by and accepted the dig in good faith although perhaps his body language indicate otherwise. But hey - he does now freely admit that he could be wrong and that this strange group of people before are the vanguard of the future of Queenstown.
Time to load, and the 250 or so bikers stood excitedly in line waiting patiently for their turn. Two at a time only so it took sometime. I hooked up with a couple folks I had only met a little before. One of us,- Damien, full battledress for downhilling, Louise sort of half dressed - baggy clothes - a regular helmet, but knee and arm padding and me dressed - well been there.
At the top no one seemed in a hurry - after all - today was about savouring all the aspects of this brand new thing. Riding uphill in enclosed luxury -disembarking, with the bikes unloaded for you - and a jolly social mix at the top.
The lure of the downhill is to much and in groups of one or two or five roll out of the top heading for the trails. Freshly marked we headed straight for the new freshly made ‘Hammy’s trail’ - 3kms of downhill , twists and turns, banks
Damien had to wait of course - flying ahead, dropping in and and then stopping to make sure his girl ok and away again.
The queue has not got shorter in fact I think it is even longer - but everyone smiling so no drama.
Coffee time - we stop at the top and sit in the sun - just enjoying the scene, before we head out- where to - Vertigo mixed with Hammy’s.
People dropping in all around. As we stop at the half way point - the whoops and hollers, show big smiles on the faces. That girl who laughed at my dress code now talks as we both have huge smiles on the face and are enjoying the same scene.
No battle scars showing anywhere. Everyone seems to be staying on the bike.
On the third run we check out the entrance to Amagaendon - hmm perhaps not says Louise and we head down to do ' Sandwich'. Louise puts the padding to the test on lower Sandwich where a rut grabs her front wheel and she ends up trapped under the bike. The knee pads worked and she is still smiling when she arrives at the bottom.
So a day of downhilling continues - the other two do seven runs, but I have to leave after the first three - more to come but perhaps a new bike for this type of riding - and certainly a change of clothing style. At least when I return it will not be for the mad rush of a powder morning - every day is the same - unlimited riding with like minded people.
Sunday 21st January
A ‘momentous day for New Zealand biking
I turned up to the opening dressed as a road biker not a downhill and stood patiently in line with the others - how many - well the rumour is that skyline did 1000 rides that day - at a average of 4 rides that’s about 250 riders - all waiting at the bottom. Downhill rides - full face helmets perched on their heads - kids looking excited with their dads, girls and boys in raggedy pants / dusty and proven, armour full body and legs. knees elbows. I did feel slightly out of place in the line with the ‘bikers’ lycra on .... but hey - I did have a bike.
Well even that was causing a few smiles. My Scott Pro Racing hard tail is just that - a Pro cross country racing bike. It has done years and years with me - riding adventure races around the world, cross country events here, the Bannockburn Classic and a million miles doing Southern Traverse checkouts - through some of the roughest mtn biking available, but a downhill bike it isn’t.
I’m not sure if the girl in the line behind me was smiling at the bike or the clothes but I will come back to her later.
Ceremonies time - our Major took the time to remind the Chairman of Skyline of his quote “Skyline Gondolas and bikes will never mix’ . He stood sheepishly by and accepted the dig in good faith although perhaps his body language indicate otherwise. But hey - he does now freely admit that he could be wrong and that this strange group of people before are the vanguard of the future of Queenstown.
Time to load, and the 250 or so bikers stood excitedly in line waiting patiently for their turn. Two at a time only so it took sometime. I hooked up with a couple folks I had only met a little before. One of us,- Damien, full battledress for downhilling, Louise sort of half dressed - baggy clothes - a regular helmet, but knee and arm padding and me dressed - well been there.
At the top no one seemed in a hurry - after all - today was about savouring all the aspects of this brand new thing. Riding uphill in enclosed luxury -disembarking, with the bikes unloaded for you - and a jolly social mix at the top.
The lure of the downhill is to much and in groups of one or two or five roll out of the top heading for the trails. Freshly marked we headed straight for the new freshly made ‘Hammy’s trail’ - 3kms of downhill , twists and turns, banks
Damien had to wait of course - flying ahead, dropping in and and then stopping to make sure his girl ok and away again.
The queue has not got shorter in fact I think it is even longer - but everyone smiling so no drama.
Coffee time - we stop at the top and sit in the sun - just enjoying the scene, before we head out- where to - Vertigo mixed with Hammy’s.
People dropping in all around. As we stop at the half way point - the whoops and hollers, show big smiles on the faces. That girl who laughed at my dress code now talks as we both have huge smiles on the face and are enjoying the same scene.
No battle scars showing anywhere. Everyone seems to be staying on the bike.
On the third run we check out the entrance to Amagaendon - hmm perhaps not says Louise and we head down to do ' Sandwich'. Louise puts the padding to the test on lower Sandwich where a rut grabs her front wheel and she ends up trapped under the bike. The knee pads worked and she is still smiling when she arrives at the bottom.
So a day of downhilling continues - the other two do seven runs, but I have to leave after the first three - more to come but perhaps a new bike for this type of riding - and certainly a change of clothing style. At least when I return it will not be for the mad rush of a powder morning - every day is the same - unlimited riding with like minded people.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
22 and half hours
22 and half hours
0450 and the phone alarm rings. Outside the sound of rain was not what we wanted. The forecast all week had been for a dying southerly, which would be quite good. So much for the forecast at this point. As the sky lightened we could see that all the tops were well covered in cloud, and we were heading that way.
One hour and 10 minutes seems a reasonable time to get out of bed, feed, and dressed and down to the start line for a 0600 start - but it is just enough time, and we wheel in on our bikes to the line just at 0558. A last minute briefing and we are away.
Peleton riding to begin, headlamps and taillights glowing as we ride towards Queenstown. Just before the gorge, a right turn and then immediate left onto a private driveway - oops. I even said as we rolled down it - ‘I don’t think this is right’ - but surrounded on both sides by bikes - there was not much choice. A quick u turn, out the gate and turn into the correct road to begin the ascent of Mt Michael. (1163m a 1000m climb)
All around the gears click down into the lowest cog - we will not get out of this gear for the next hour as we ascend the last remnant of the Pisa Range.
No navigation yet - but once we pass the trig station things become a little more interesting. Almost on top and surrounded by cloud - no reference and no speedo on the bike - would have been handy right now. It’s about 2 kms to the turn we are looking for - 20 minutes pass and we find a split in the road. A small debate with Adam Fairmaid (from another team) and we decide that the left turn may just work. I had looked at the map hard, but in the gloom of the early morning - not really hard enough. The correct turn was in a depression and showed different on the map - but you never know with the maps and the vast number of roads all over the tops of these local mountains.
This track heads in the right general direction and downhill which is where we need to go - but soon the dozer driver got bored, or just decided the line he was taking didn’t work for him either and the road stops. Damm Damm. A quick scout around reveals nothing - steep ground to the left and no sign of continuing road anywhere. Damm.
Well - we are left of the road so nothing to it but to sidle right Some of these tops are rideable cross country - some aren’t. One ridge, two ridges - more roads going where? At least still right. A prominent ridge looms ahead - must be the one. Careful of the spaniards - but they still get Adams team - two punctures on different bikes. We push on and leave them as we hit ‘the road’ Well who knows but it is big and going downhill, so Jeff and I follow it. As it continues steeply down we have the confirmations that we need - deep holes in the middle of the road - we had been warned about these - so all seems good.
Well except for the low cloud and rain. The brakes would be heating up - if they could get through the mud and water. The grass road drops suddenly onto the Nevis Pack track - actually a good gravel road, and some wet looking officials who huddle under the open rear door of a car and a umbrella or two. 5th team through - things look up all of a sudden, and only minutes behind a team we had left on top when we made the wrong turn. It puzzles me all day - but I know from experience that the correct way is not always the fastest - the mistake has cost us no time at all really.
Highway riding back to Cromwell - one team caught and passed and feeling good
Jeff asks as we walk the 3kms to the boat ’You said we were just out making up numbers in this race - what are we doing in 4th place?’
Paddling - two singles - didn’t even thing of trying to get a double - much to my regret later. Out of the main lake, up the Bannockburn arm paddling hard to try and stay ahead of the chasing teams - one in a double and Adams team in a 4 man - well actually the old Arrow 5 person boat from early Southern Traverse days. But to no avail they pass us. But the double boat does not realise the extent of the flow in this arm of the lake is actually still quite strong and by using the eddies I am able to pass them again and arrive at the ‘abseil ‘ just ahead of them. I wanted to avoid any hold up, but two ropes meant that it was not a problem anyway. The 4 person team clears the ropes just as we arrive and by the time the harness is done up we are straight onto the ropes. Back down to the boats and away.
Back out of the Bannockburn arm and bang, straight into the southerly, and it is strong and funnelled in the gorge. Wish I had done so paddle training. It’s a long long way to Clyde (not quite - just to Champagne Gully) but feels like I am paddling to Dunedin - sneaking along the far shore - trying to stay out of the wind. The 4 person boat has long gone, the double, a couple from Wellington, slowly pull away into the distance, and Jeff and I paddle, lost in our own thoughts, at times separated by the width of the lake towards the end of the stage. Ian Huntsman in another double goes past like a express train and quickly fades into the distance, but the and is in sight now and I struggle to get there - putting my paddle down as soon as it is possible to drift to shore.
Stage 3 done - now it just walking / trekking - but it is uphill.
The culvert under the road provides a good shelter from the driving rain squalls that have been passing - just raining lightly right now. Extra layer on - woollen T-shirt, woollen jersey, hat, peak cap, rain jacket - food - maps. Makes me feel cold just sitting here.
We leave just minutes apart from 3 other two person teams and remain in sight up the long uphill road climb. The track stops and disappears so we strike straight up - cross country on sheep tracks knowing that in a 100 metres or so we would hit the power line road. This achieved we continue up and up, at times it almost gets flat and other times it is steep. I miss a grass track heading off to the left and we go a bit high, before realising and coming back down onto the continuation of the road.
The groups coalesce and we eventually reach the high point of the trek Checkpoint 6, but we are yet to go to Checkpoint 5 and to do so we need a handrail - of course we are in the cloud again, damm. Cannot see anything more than a couple hundred metres. The map provides such handrail - a marked fence and we follow the road along the top for a km or so until we hit the fence. Jeff and a few of the others stop to put extra clothes on, but I can’t . One it’s too cold to do it there and besides, two - all my clothes are already on. except for the long johns.
Descending rough ground beside the fence we see two teams coming back up Adam and his four person team, and the Wellington couple. It warms up slightly on the way down but I am still cold and there is but one solution - the long johns are going to become another layer - scarf or cut a hole the crutch to make a head hole The second option it is and using the compulsory equipment knife it is easy to cut a small hole and rip it bigger. (nothing that a good seamstress can’t fix) Slip the arms into the legs and pull the rest down - only covers the top of the chest but it makes all the difference to my temperature.
Checkpoint 5 is just ahead - cross that small deeply entrenched creek and scramble up steeply for 100 metres.
Gavin Mason and girlfriend are huddled in their sleeping bags under a well tied down tarp. We check in and are told that checkpoint 7 is cancelled. so we retrace our steps, down, and then back up the rough ground alongside the fence. A small sheep track makes the climb back up a bit easier.
Checkpoint 6 again. What is the word on the generator shed door? - there are none - but the door of the small locked safe along side says - 1100 volts - so all the teams (4 teams of two) decide that this will do. With no cp 7 to go to it is back down the very same road we came up. Again no views - just cloud although it is a little lighter with signs of sun in the distance, but also a little darker. It’s now 2000 at night.
We leave first but the other teams come past at a dog trot. What's the rush? ‘Got to get of by dark’. Dam - the walk down becomes a run. So from 1647 metres we run down to the boats - 1447 metres of downhill running, except for a couple small uphills and flats. I wonder what my legs are going to be like on Tuesday.
We pass one team still heading up - glad it is not us as they will do the fence line in the dark, and then we catch another team going down. A team of young racers who had kayak problems, and had turned around and went back. They had driven down the gorge and just went for a walk up the hill to fill in time.
2130 at the boats - dark, cold and another long paddle to get back up the lake. The southerly is still blowing although not quite so hard so this paddle is much easier. Still it is a long way, but now I have had one paddle practice so it goes a little easier. Paddling at night is always interesting - light facing to back, so the rescue boat does not run us over, and no lights facing forward. The light of the glow sticks the only reference to the vague shadow of Jeff ahead.
As we near Cromwell the southerly is again well funnelled and we are running down the face of the waves. Not quite surfing but interesting in the dark needless to say. Don’t really want to fall out but the excitement and adrenaline takes away some of the tiredness and makes this last part a lot easier into Cromwell. Around the narrows at Cromwell the wind gusts of the mountains from different directions so more concentration is need and Jeff slips away in the dark.
I expect that I will see him under the bridge, but no, so continue paddling towards the harbour of McNulty inlet. I am a little wide on the approach and have to turn and paddle straight into the flashing lights of the official.
As I drift into shore he asks ‘Where is your team mate?’ Not here I ask. Now I am a little confused. But he look's up and ‘here he is’ Jeff drifts in to the shore.
We had been paddling apart by 100 meters or so for the last km but had not seen each other in the dark (Jeff had circled around to look for me but must have passed to the inside closer to the shore)
Another stage completed. 0100 Sunday morning. The walk back to the HQ passes quickly and we have just one stage to go - one and half hours mountain bike orienteering.
The cryptic clues and map show that we go over towards and through Bannockburn. We miss the first two - the road is named on the map but not on a sign post, and continue on to get, cp 15 (along the true left river track towards Queenstown), then cp 10
(in the quarry) ‘Who staked their claim her?. Although it was written - ‘Who stacked their claim’. Gabriel is the answer on the stake. Cp 11 proved a bit more of a struggle - I knew it should be on the Bannockburn Classic return track - but what the hell were ‘three soldiers’.
We spent sometime along the track looking for it without luck. Counting trees, fence posts, looked at warratahs - part of a fence across the track - around the bottom - and still didn’t see the answer and gave up. (it was on the warratahs - 3 of them and tied down at the bottom)
Onto Cp 12, 13 and 14 in and around the Gold fields Park. Adam sleeping at the foot of the sign said - ‘don’t worry we know the answer it is nine’ and so we wrote nine (wrong) It was a sentence with the number 21 in it, Dam
CP13 and 14 were relatively easy and we start for home, stopping to pick up cp 8 (after a very quick scout to see if CP9 was achievable from the wrong end)
So to the finish though the quiet streets of Cromwell to arrive at 0430. The quick one and half hour orienteering had taken 3hrs (perhaps it we could have done it in 2 1/2 hrs - but certainly not in 1.5hrs)
22.5hrs training in one day - not bad, Sleep did come easy after a quick shower.
Geoff Hunt and Jeff Staniland
Team Two Jeff’s finished 3rd in the two person teams.
We ascended 4,056 meters at 7m/min and descended at 12m/min
0450 and the phone alarm rings. Outside the sound of rain was not what we wanted. The forecast all week had been for a dying southerly, which would be quite good. So much for the forecast at this point. As the sky lightened we could see that all the tops were well covered in cloud, and we were heading that way.
One hour and 10 minutes seems a reasonable time to get out of bed, feed, and dressed and down to the start line for a 0600 start - but it is just enough time, and we wheel in on our bikes to the line just at 0558. A last minute briefing and we are away.
Peleton riding to begin, headlamps and taillights glowing as we ride towards Queenstown. Just before the gorge, a right turn and then immediate left onto a private driveway - oops. I even said as we rolled down it - ‘I don’t think this is right’ - but surrounded on both sides by bikes - there was not much choice. A quick u turn, out the gate and turn into the correct road to begin the ascent of Mt Michael. (1163m a 1000m climb)
All around the gears click down into the lowest cog - we will not get out of this gear for the next hour as we ascend the last remnant of the Pisa Range.
No navigation yet - but once we pass the trig station things become a little more interesting. Almost on top and surrounded by cloud - no reference and no speedo on the bike - would have been handy right now. It’s about 2 kms to the turn we are looking for - 20 minutes pass and we find a split in the road. A small debate with Adam Fairmaid (from another team) and we decide that the left turn may just work. I had looked at the map hard, but in the gloom of the early morning - not really hard enough. The correct turn was in a depression and showed different on the map - but you never know with the maps and the vast number of roads all over the tops of these local mountains.
This track heads in the right general direction and downhill which is where we need to go - but soon the dozer driver got bored, or just decided the line he was taking didn’t work for him either and the road stops. Damm Damm. A quick scout around reveals nothing - steep ground to the left and no sign of continuing road anywhere. Damm.
Well - we are left of the road so nothing to it but to sidle right Some of these tops are rideable cross country - some aren’t. One ridge, two ridges - more roads going where? At least still right. A prominent ridge looms ahead - must be the one. Careful of the spaniards - but they still get Adams team - two punctures on different bikes. We push on and leave them as we hit ‘the road’ Well who knows but it is big and going downhill, so Jeff and I follow it. As it continues steeply down we have the confirmations that we need - deep holes in the middle of the road - we had been warned about these - so all seems good.
Well except for the low cloud and rain. The brakes would be heating up - if they could get through the mud and water. The grass road drops suddenly onto the Nevis Pack track - actually a good gravel road, and some wet looking officials who huddle under the open rear door of a car and a umbrella or two. 5th team through - things look up all of a sudden, and only minutes behind a team we had left on top when we made the wrong turn. It puzzles me all day - but I know from experience that the correct way is not always the fastest - the mistake has cost us no time at all really.
Highway riding back to Cromwell - one team caught and passed and feeling good
Jeff asks as we walk the 3kms to the boat ’You said we were just out making up numbers in this race - what are we doing in 4th place?’
Paddling - two singles - didn’t even thing of trying to get a double - much to my regret later. Out of the main lake, up the Bannockburn arm paddling hard to try and stay ahead of the chasing teams - one in a double and Adams team in a 4 man - well actually the old Arrow 5 person boat from early Southern Traverse days. But to no avail they pass us. But the double boat does not realise the extent of the flow in this arm of the lake is actually still quite strong and by using the eddies I am able to pass them again and arrive at the ‘abseil ‘ just ahead of them. I wanted to avoid any hold up, but two ropes meant that it was not a problem anyway. The 4 person team clears the ropes just as we arrive and by the time the harness is done up we are straight onto the ropes. Back down to the boats and away.
Back out of the Bannockburn arm and bang, straight into the southerly, and it is strong and funnelled in the gorge. Wish I had done so paddle training. It’s a long long way to Clyde (not quite - just to Champagne Gully) but feels like I am paddling to Dunedin - sneaking along the far shore - trying to stay out of the wind. The 4 person boat has long gone, the double, a couple from Wellington, slowly pull away into the distance, and Jeff and I paddle, lost in our own thoughts, at times separated by the width of the lake towards the end of the stage. Ian Huntsman in another double goes past like a express train and quickly fades into the distance, but the and is in sight now and I struggle to get there - putting my paddle down as soon as it is possible to drift to shore.
Stage 3 done - now it just walking / trekking - but it is uphill.
The culvert under the road provides a good shelter from the driving rain squalls that have been passing - just raining lightly right now. Extra layer on - woollen T-shirt, woollen jersey, hat, peak cap, rain jacket - food - maps. Makes me feel cold just sitting here.
We leave just minutes apart from 3 other two person teams and remain in sight up the long uphill road climb. The track stops and disappears so we strike straight up - cross country on sheep tracks knowing that in a 100 metres or so we would hit the power line road. This achieved we continue up and up, at times it almost gets flat and other times it is steep. I miss a grass track heading off to the left and we go a bit high, before realising and coming back down onto the continuation of the road.
The groups coalesce and we eventually reach the high point of the trek Checkpoint 6, but we are yet to go to Checkpoint 5 and to do so we need a handrail - of course we are in the cloud again, damm. Cannot see anything more than a couple hundred metres. The map provides such handrail - a marked fence and we follow the road along the top for a km or so until we hit the fence. Jeff and a few of the others stop to put extra clothes on, but I can’t . One it’s too cold to do it there and besides, two - all my clothes are already on. except for the long johns.
Descending rough ground beside the fence we see two teams coming back up Adam and his four person team, and the Wellington couple. It warms up slightly on the way down but I am still cold and there is but one solution - the long johns are going to become another layer - scarf or cut a hole the crutch to make a head hole The second option it is and using the compulsory equipment knife it is easy to cut a small hole and rip it bigger. (nothing that a good seamstress can’t fix) Slip the arms into the legs and pull the rest down - only covers the top of the chest but it makes all the difference to my temperature.
Checkpoint 5 is just ahead - cross that small deeply entrenched creek and scramble up steeply for 100 metres.
Gavin Mason and girlfriend are huddled in their sleeping bags under a well tied down tarp. We check in and are told that checkpoint 7 is cancelled. so we retrace our steps, down, and then back up the rough ground alongside the fence. A small sheep track makes the climb back up a bit easier.
Checkpoint 6 again. What is the word on the generator shed door? - there are none - but the door of the small locked safe along side says - 1100 volts - so all the teams (4 teams of two) decide that this will do. With no cp 7 to go to it is back down the very same road we came up. Again no views - just cloud although it is a little lighter with signs of sun in the distance, but also a little darker. It’s now 2000 at night.
We leave first but the other teams come past at a dog trot. What's the rush? ‘Got to get of by dark’. Dam - the walk down becomes a run. So from 1647 metres we run down to the boats - 1447 metres of downhill running, except for a couple small uphills and flats. I wonder what my legs are going to be like on Tuesday.
We pass one team still heading up - glad it is not us as they will do the fence line in the dark, and then we catch another team going down. A team of young racers who had kayak problems, and had turned around and went back. They had driven down the gorge and just went for a walk up the hill to fill in time.
2130 at the boats - dark, cold and another long paddle to get back up the lake. The southerly is still blowing although not quite so hard so this paddle is much easier. Still it is a long way, but now I have had one paddle practice so it goes a little easier. Paddling at night is always interesting - light facing to back, so the rescue boat does not run us over, and no lights facing forward. The light of the glow sticks the only reference to the vague shadow of Jeff ahead.
As we near Cromwell the southerly is again well funnelled and we are running down the face of the waves. Not quite surfing but interesting in the dark needless to say. Don’t really want to fall out but the excitement and adrenaline takes away some of the tiredness and makes this last part a lot easier into Cromwell. Around the narrows at Cromwell the wind gusts of the mountains from different directions so more concentration is need and Jeff slips away in the dark.
I expect that I will see him under the bridge, but no, so continue paddling towards the harbour of McNulty inlet. I am a little wide on the approach and have to turn and paddle straight into the flashing lights of the official.
As I drift into shore he asks ‘Where is your team mate?’ Not here I ask. Now I am a little confused. But he look's up and ‘here he is’ Jeff drifts in to the shore.
We had been paddling apart by 100 meters or so for the last km but had not seen each other in the dark (Jeff had circled around to look for me but must have passed to the inside closer to the shore)
Another stage completed. 0100 Sunday morning. The walk back to the HQ passes quickly and we have just one stage to go - one and half hours mountain bike orienteering.
The cryptic clues and map show that we go over towards and through Bannockburn. We miss the first two - the road is named on the map but not on a sign post, and continue on to get, cp 15 (along the true left river track towards Queenstown), then cp 10
(in the quarry) ‘Who staked their claim her?. Although it was written - ‘Who stacked their claim’. Gabriel is the answer on the stake. Cp 11 proved a bit more of a struggle - I knew it should be on the Bannockburn Classic return track - but what the hell were ‘three soldiers’.
We spent sometime along the track looking for it without luck. Counting trees, fence posts, looked at warratahs - part of a fence across the track - around the bottom - and still didn’t see the answer and gave up. (it was on the warratahs - 3 of them and tied down at the bottom)
Onto Cp 12, 13 and 14 in and around the Gold fields Park. Adam sleeping at the foot of the sign said - ‘don’t worry we know the answer it is nine’ and so we wrote nine (wrong) It was a sentence with the number 21 in it, Dam
CP13 and 14 were relatively easy and we start for home, stopping to pick up cp 8 (after a very quick scout to see if CP9 was achievable from the wrong end)
So to the finish though the quiet streets of Cromwell to arrive at 0430. The quick one and half hour orienteering had taken 3hrs (perhaps it we could have done it in 2 1/2 hrs - but certainly not in 1.5hrs)
22.5hrs training in one day - not bad, Sleep did come easy after a quick shower.
Geoff Hunt and Jeff Staniland
Team Two Jeff’s finished 3rd in the two person teams.
We ascended 4,056 meters at 7m/min and descended at 12m/min
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