When It Rains it "Sucks"


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Oceania » New Zealand » South Island » Southland » Queenstown
February 15th 2006
Published: February 16th 2006
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So yesterday I was jazzed and ready to ride. My plan was to take the back road to Queenstown. I'd bike on a gravel road to "Mavora Lakes"( Sight of Lake of Mists in Lord of the Rings), make camp, hike a bit, and then head to Walter Station the next morning and catch a vintage steamboat to Queenstown. I couldn't wait. So much so that I ignored the weather forecast that called for a rain front moving in with heavy rain. How bad could it be. I had rain gear and I could pitch my tent at the lakes and wait it out if needed.

If only I'd listened to my intuition. I had reservations about riding. I thought just ride into town and take the bus. No, I told myself. I was going to ride. It would be a great adventure and great to get off the main road. In the guidebook I had it said that the road was in good condition and was a great alternative to the busy tourist highway farther east. I was sold. I was lured by the opportunity to listen to Bruce Coburn, Sheryl Crow, Santana, and the Mambo Kings on my ipod.

Well it started to rain the minute that I left. It rained all along the main highway. I soaked my first set of raingear. I hunkered under some large trees in someone's long driveway and changed into my heavy duty raingear that, until now, I hadn't had to use. I ate some lunch. I dreaded going back out into the rain. As I headed out of the driveway I saw a sign for a B and B. Maybe I should just give up for the day and get a room. Well, they were nolonger open. I did get greeted by two wonderful dogs and spent some time giving them belly rubs under the awning of a large carport while it started to rain harder. I figured I'd just wait a bit and see if it let up. No, it just rained harder and I trudged on. I was tough. I could make it.

Another moment of decision making. Should I stay on the main highway and go to the next town 30 km away and get a room or should I turn off on to the Mavora Lakes road and try to make it to the lakes. In a moment of insanity and what I call " A guy moment" I decided to be tough and take the Mavora Lakes road. Hmmm, big mistake.

No sooner had I gotten on the road I realized that it had sections of deep pea gravel with just enough space cleared by vehicle tires that if I didn't waver right or left I could move forward and not washout in the gravel. The horrible gravel never ended. Eventually all the clear areas ended and I could nolonger ride on the slight uphills because the rain was forming a wet layer beneath the gravel and making it impossible to keep any traction. I started to look for a place to pitch my tent and go into emergency mode. Wait out the storm and then try to get the heck off the road or push on to the lakes. Only 12 more miles to the lakes. I could make it. I pushed and a couple of times the bike washed out and fell over sideways. The last one where I was swearing I couldn't get it upright because it just kept washing out. I got it up and went a little further and decided it was time to put the knobbie tires on see if those worked and if they didn't pitch the tent. Oh and my second set of rain gear was soaked with in 30 minutes. This was a monsoon not a rain storm.

I pulled over to try to save my day. Just then a Sport Utility drove up from behind. Without even hesitating I stuck out my thumb. I was in a no win situation. They stopped and I said I will give you money if you will give me a lift to the nearest town. They looked at me, soaked, a woman riding alone in the pouring rain on the gravel from hell. Well what could they do but help a woman in distress. They were fishermen who had been heading to the next fishing spot. They saw me earlier and thought I was crazy for being out there. I noted some hesitation. A dirty wet bike, a soaked woman in a SU with leather seats. But heck, they were fisherman. We were able to load my bike and trailer in the back of his sport utility and me in the back seat on one side. Off we went.

Ofcourse I felt like I was in a bad situation. Maybe these guys were backwater deliverance Kiwis or some kind of weirdos. Luckily they weren't. The one guy was over for a fishing trip from Texas and the other guy was a guide he had hired to take him out. I did love the comment from the Texan. "My god that is some kind of weight you are cariryng". He just couldn't believe it. He asked, "Exactly what are you carrying?" I explained that I had all the gear I needed to survive a situation like this. Tent, sleeping bag, stove, food, etc, and a couple of good books to pass the hours.

Anyway, they were having a bad day as well. No fish and the guides windshield wipers kept failing so they would take turns rolling down the window to get them going while hydroplaning across the water soaked gravel. I didn't feel bad they were having a hard time just driving on this road. He finally go the windshield wipers going by pouring dish detergent water on the window and we were off. Jason, the guide, said he'd drop me off at Tony's pub. It was nice place and they had accomodations. It was greatful. This had really been a bad day. My knights in fisherman's kaki had saved the day!

They delivered me to the Garstone Hotel and Pub in Garsten. I got a room, changed out of my wet clothes and they ordered some coffee to warm up. It was an old hotel that had been fixed up to have the class of a fine diningroom and livingroom for hotel guests. Then it had the fisherman's bar with pool table and big screen TV. What more could I want then a warm bed, food, and an authentic Kiwi pub.

I decided to get some food. My 30 mile ride felt like 60 miles after all the rain and gravel luge riding. I've been craving meat since I started riding in Picton. So I decided to order a bacon cheese burger and what the heck, some greasy fries. I sat in the pub and watched music videos on the big screen and replaying the day. When the hamburger and chips (kiwi for fries) arrived I was blown away. The hamburger was gigantic. About 7 inches across and 2 inches thick. This was accompanied by a mound of fries twice the size of the hamburger. This was a hungry man sized meal. Well I managed to polish off the burger but I saved the fries for later. There was no room left in my stomach for that mound. Fed and caffienated I headed off for a shower. I discovered a bath tub. A rarity on the road. I had a long hot soak which was just what I needed after a horrible day in the bush.

Later that evening I ventured into the pub to order a diet coke. It was the quintessential scene from I'd expect from a Kiwi pub full of knarly guys. Two guys were arm wrestling at one of the tables. They were watching rugby on the large screen TV and 2 guys were playing pool while the boose was flowing from the bar. A young Swedish gal had just finished up her stint working there as a waitress and she was hanging out in the bar on her last day in Garston. She wanted to become a circus acrobat but the Swedish government wouldn't pay for that kind of schooling and neither would her parents so she was taking a break and doing some traveling. It was lots of fun talking to the different people in the pub and hotel.

Did I forget to mention that the sky cleared up and the sunset was beautiful. Go figure.

Backyard Adventure Girl
Lisa

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16th February 2006

Risky
Whew! After reading this entry one might head for a hot bath too! Well you can't win 'em all, but good you're alright. Excellent writing.
18th February 2006

Okay. Add torrential rains to the list of what could go wrong. It can be miserable to be stuck out nowhere and be soaking wet. I'm with you, I'd take the chance and hitchhike. It wouldn't be an adventure without these experiences, now would it? Be safe.

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