New Zealand's lovely, lonely roads

The huge, rolling emptiness of the Wairarapa

Twenty years ago I spent a Christmas holiday cycling round New Zealand's north island. Was it enjoyable? Well, yes and no. Great scenery, friendly people, empty roads, yes. Horrible roads, no people, lots of roadkill, also yes.

20 years later. A short trip on borrowed bikes. Great scenery, friendly people and empty roads, yes. But some things have changed.

Sheep, sheep, sheep - here along the road from Hastings to Waioru

Cycle touring has arrived and New Zealand now has a number of designated trails. These can be linked together into longer trips on both the north and south islands. The routes will take you out of the main cities and into beautiful, sparsely populated countryside. There is good information on the cycle trail website.

http://www.nzcycletrail.com

 As it was: "metalled" road
in the Coromandel 

From Wellington northwards the  main road winds and climbs steeply over the Rimutuka range. But now there is the Rimutuka Rail Trail which follows (more gently)  the old track through the mountains to the Wairarapa. It is 118km and from there quiet roads lead to Hawkes Bay and beyond. The scenery is magnificent in its huge, rolling emptiness.

The short ride this Christmas was a reminder of the distances between towns and communities where food, drink and accommodation is available. There are roads which run for more than 100km with virtually no habitation of any kind. These often feature many steep climbs.

The scenery hasn't changed
 from 20 years ago

Free camping - finding a spot to put up a tent is approved, generally safe (there’s nothing poisonous in NZ) and commonplace, but of course it means carrying extra gear. The food and drink situation has improved to the extent that the Kiwis have discovered coffee and almost every little town will serve up a decent flat white and a great fried breakfast. However cafés can be a day's ride or more apart.

Very steep hills on the Gentle Annie

Some country roads are a joy to ride on. Reasonable surfaces, little traffic. But "metalled road" means gravel surface, dusty as cars and pick-ups pass. The number of roads is limited and chances are you will, from time to time, end up on a highway. The coarse "heavy" surface drags at the wheels. Usually there's a strip on each side which vehicles duck into when being overtaken. The surface here can be pretty rough and the final resting place for all manner of roadkill.

20 years ago the Wanganui
River Road was very rough

The rural “Gentle Annie” road between Fernhill on the outskirts of Hastings and Waioru has a warning at the start: no petrol for 139 km. Not only is there no petrol, but there is also no fuel for cyclists. No café, no pub. Just a few isolated farmsteads, a heck of a lot of sheep - and hills that would weaken the resolve of the hardiest bike tourist.

 

The beautiful Wanganui River Road - now with a good surface

The Wanganui River Road between Pipiriki and Wanganui has changed for the better. 20 years ago it was a stony track but now it is surfaced. Otherwise it is as quiet and stunningly beautiful as before. The camping spot beside the road I used on my last visit, is still there. Bear in mind, if travelling north, from Pipiriki to Raetihi, is a seriously long, steep climb.

The Wanganui River

Kiwis are as open and friendly can be. But there aren't many of them in a fair size country. So expect some lonely riding though you can expect a few words of greeting from any cyclist you do come across.

Links

http://www.nzcycletrail.com

http://www.cycletour.org.nz

Plenty of New Zealand's unique woodland on the North Island

Getting urban – in January!

       

The beach at St Kilda is only a short ride from the centre of town 

It's not often I get the chance to ride in January. It's not often I get the opportunity to ride beside a long, sandy beach. It's not often I ride a bike in Australia. So when the chance arises and the snow and ice back home in Austria make cycling impossible, I find a bike and go for a ride.

A free day in Melbourne. The forecast is for sun all day. A rented hack from Rentabike will do fine. Riding in a big city and through the suburbs isn't everyone's pint of lager. But here there is a good network of bike paths. Some are for bikes and pedestrians together and others painted tracks along the roads. The signposting is a work in progress: some are really good and others seem to be invisible.

 

About 50km (including backtracking!)

Though riding through a rural landscape is the best, pedalling from the centre towards the city's fringes at least gives a broader impression of the place than being stuck in it's commercial heart.

However, navigating with a map from Rentabike occasionally proved  tricky and finding the right road out of town involved backtracking a number of times.

 

Iron roofs and iron lace decoration in the suburbs

Not far from the shimmering towers of the CBD are tiny terraced, single storey "settler" houses. Lining broad avenues, they feature the iron roofs and iron lace decorations so characteristic of these former colonies.

On the trail to Williamstown there are great views of the distant city and container port

A 50km ride took in a long sandy beach, the gritty container port, historic Williamstown at the mouth of the river, and the bustling riverside, crowded with restaurants, bars and buskers. It's a bit of a challenge threading a line through the strolling crowd. At least cyclists are allowed to mingle with pedestrians - and it seems to work.  More frustrating are the frequent stops required at the many lights-controlled junctions all over the city and suburbs.

But that is the nature of city cycling and any ride is better than no ride.

Links:

Rentabike: www.rentabike.net.au

Cycling under palms in January - what a treat!

The Monochrome Ride - up Everest?

Mountains as cold and grey as the cloud-covered sky

Starting the Steinberg 70km circuit with the thermometer standing at 2C, it seems pretty clear this is going to be one of the final rides of the year. The forecast is for snow and that brings ice and salt on the roads.

People along the way are preparing their gardens for the winter. Bushes are bundled and tied up. Leaves cleared. Garden furniture stowed away.

The small roads and bike trails are a mess. Cattle have been herded along them to the winter stalls – leaving a brown, sticky trail to mark their passing. Tractors have trundled by with trailers dripping with steaming dung to spread on the meadows. There’s more brown muck on the lanes than at any other time of year. Everywhere smells.

The Steinberg Circuit - 70km around this mountain

Climbing: it’s harder than usual. Muscles and joints not so limber as on a hot summer’s ride.

Descending: such a pleasure on a warm sunny day, the summer grin turns to a wintery grimace. A temperature of plus 3°C when riding downhill at 50kmh is minus 4°C when calculating the wind chill factor.

Contemplation of the past summer’s rides is distraction from the chilly fingertips and icy blast around the cheeks. The record of the rides completed, distances, vertical ascent and comments is a good reminder of great days in the saddle.

 

The world turned monochrome

In this mountainous part of the world, more interesting than the distances is the meters climbed. As I ride I do the maths. Almost 25,000m vertical ascent. How high is Everest? Can it be that in a summer season we climb more than the height of the world’s highest mountain? A quick check back home and, sure – we’ve “Everested” almost three times this year.

www.everesting.cc

Close to half the distance covered in the year is on tour. This means pedalling a load approaching 20kg – pretty much everything two people need for three weeks plus water, tools etc.  And much of that, up Everest a couple of times.

 

The Pillersee, like a sheet of stainless steel

There’s not another cyclist to be seen. The few people on foot give me a pitying look.  The mountains are the cold grey of the cloud-covered sky. The Pillersee lake is like a sheet of stainless steel.  The larches on the mountainsides are dull gold candles waiting for the sun to set them alight.

A few photographs – stiff fingers muddle the controls. Maybe in this weather pictures in black and white will be more appropriate.

 

Larches, gold candles waiting for the sun to set them alight

Well past half way, really humming along. Round a bend a vicious headwind drags the speed down to half what it was. Back into the woods - it isn’t so noticeable. Shuffling along through a thick bed of fallen leaves, it’s hard to stay the tarmac.

If that was the last ride of the year, then it was a good one. Cold but satisfying. But maybe, just maybe, the temperature will rise and there will be a few more rides to come.

Ps: 24 hours later the snow began to fall – the world turned monochrome

1001 Arabian Frights

Riding round the Zeller See in summer is a dodgy experience. There is every kind of risk along the way. The trail is narrow but skirts the north side of the beautiful lake that has become a bit of a middle east sensation.

Zell am See, surrounded by mountains, lies on a headland jutting into the lake. It has been known for years as a ski resort. In the summer it was popular with an older clientele, keen on walks, and strolling along the lakeside. An inspired publicity campaign has transformed the summer months into a paradise for middle eastern visitors. It fulfils their idea of heaven: clear water reflecting the surrounding mountains, streams trickling through verdant meadows. Just the sort of place you'd like to go to when you pop your clogs – or sandals.

For cyclists, this has added a series of new hazards to the lakeside ride. We are used to coping with tottering children on their first roller blades, wandering dogs, wobbly e-bike novices, babies in buggies, photographers looking for just the right angle and racers trying to beat the clock.

Now the Arab dimension has added large numbers of strolling family groups unused to cyclists – or the very idea that bikes should have their exclusive track. Then there are the adventurous guests trying out bikes for the first time and finding them to have something of a will of their own. As for the rent-a-car drivers: gears, clutch, narrow, winding roads, cyclists! A myriad new experiences – and hazards.

All this adds up to 1001 possible frights as we ride around the Zeller See in summer.

 

Ridiing towards the "Stony Sea"

Autumn comes. The visitors leave. The trees surrounding the lake turn to gold. The water is a mirror. The Stony Sea; the distant mountains seem near enough to touch. The bike trail is empty, slick, wet, leaf-strewn.

Along the lanes beyond, the meadows are crowded with cattle cropping the last grass before they move into the stalls. The cowbells tinkle. The sky, clear, deep blue. Snow glistens on the higher peaks, the air is fresh, crisp.

And riding round the Zeller See is fright free.

Zell am See

Autumn sun in Austria

Along the Gail valley

 The weather thick, cold, wet. Visibility next to nothing. Optimistic in the extreme. Offload from a 10 minute train journey through the mountain from the north to the south side of the Alps and the sky is blue, the sun warming.

Southern Austria, in particular Kärnten (Carinthia) is warm. The rivers flow parallel to the Italian border. The border is a jagged range of rocky mountains, the Gailtaler Alpen. The rivers Gail and Drau flow east and into Slovenia. Each has its own long distance bike trail.

 

The Drau from Sillian to Lienz - 25km downhill

Ride west, in summer, up the gradual Drau incline from Lienz to the Italian border at Sillian, and you risk being swept into the river by hordes of families and groups speeding effortlessly down the 25km descent, winding through the woods. They take the train back to the start.

 

Stunning views of the Lienz Dolomites

Even in Autumn the downhill direction is popular but the few plodding up the hill do so in reasonable safety. This is a lovely ride. Great, towering peaks on the right, the river Drau, gurgling and burbling its way downstream on the left.

 

Just one of the castles along the Drau

After Lienz the Drau route levels out a bit. Fewer autumn riders here. Occasional sleepy villages to the left. Glimpses of castles and peaks to the right.

Past Greifenburg, the trail is really quiet.  Cruise through meadows. Farmers are cutting the last of the corn. Through tiny villages where bright yellow flowers are refuse to fade despite the late season. Mountains in every direction though the valley is broadening. Cruise into Sachsenburg with its historic square and on to Möllbrucke. After this the Drau valley becomes a broad plain between the mountains.

 

Autumn sun along the Drau

Nearby, just to the south, is the Gail bike trail. Sandwiched between the mountains on the left  (along the Drau they were on the right), and the Karnische Alpen. A relatively flat, smooth asphalt track follows the river from Kötschach close to the Italian border to Villach.  This is about as easy as riding a bike can get. Gently down hill. Lots of lovely views. 

 

The Gail valley is popular for its easy-going riding

There are  plenty of possibilities: Uphill along the Drau to Sillian, then up again into the Lesach valley. This is stunning but means riding on a road to Kötschach and onward along the Gail bike trail. At Arnoldstein the route meets the Alpe Adria which takes you to the Adriatic at Grado, or follow the Drau into Slovenia at Maribor.

 

Gailtal

 The warm, Kärnten sun. Blue skies. Quiet trails. Warm welcomes. Every day, something new.

What are you waiting for?

On the trail towards Sachsenburg

The Drau from Greifenburg

Grumpy young men

The other morning in the first hour or so of cycling along Austria's Upper Innradweg, we saw more people riding bikes than in 10 days along the Swiss Lakes Route.
http://europeanrandonneur.blogspot.co.at/2016/08/swiss-roll-heidi-land-challenge.html

Okay, so there are various reasons for the difference in numbers, but what was also striking was the grim looks, lack of a smile, a greeting or a raised hand. Coming towards us were just a load of grumpy young men. And some equally grumpy women.

 

The wild, romantic, upper Inn valley

This was August and at that time of year the long-distance routes are increasingly popular. When driving a car on a busy highway, one doesn't expect a wave from oncoming traffic. But sharing a narrow trail, cruising through wildly romantic scenery, enjoying exercise, fresh air and sunshine should be a pleasure. You wouldn't think so. What a grim lot! Hardly a flicker of a smile.

Most give no indication of recognising a fellow traveller at all. Some even look away. It's as if they are so fixated on the number of kilometers and average speed, there's no time for superfluous actions like smiling. Let alone looking at the scenery.

It wasn't always so. When long-distance cycle touring was an activity enjoyed by just a few oddballs, greeting fellow spirits was the norm. It was common to stop and compare notes, but there's no opportunity for that these days.

The long distance routes, like the river Inn, are well signposted. Each has its own guidebook. So surprises are rare and there is little reason to get lost. Organised groups with a series of fixed accommodation arrangements often travel in large numbers and are concentrating on the bike in front. And obeying the orders of the leader: "single file, bikes coming towards us" (how dare they?)

The grumpy young men phenomena might be nationality dictated. German and Dutch riders are notoriously unfriendly. The French are great greeters. Or it could be that newcomers on the increasingly popular e-bikes are unfamiliar with the etiquette. Or that the groups of mountain bike riders with back packs don't deem to acknowledge cycles with panniers or mudguards.

A friendly Omani cyclist in Switzerland

Mass cycling seems to stop at Austria's Swiss border. It is definitely more expensive there. But the Swiss have a comprehensive network of local, regional and national bike routes. All are well marked with clear numbers on the maroon signs. 

Switzerland has few visitors with panniers on their bikes and these rare birds greet each other as like-minded spirits. We recently met and talked with two guys exploring the Rhone Bike Route on fixed wheel classic bikes, and a guy from Oman who was just discovering the pleasures of cycling. Cycle Swiss, it's still friendly. Just as it was in Austria way back when.

Friendly-fixed wheel riders in Switzerland