New Zealand on Two Wheels

Freewheeling to the glaciers in

NEW ZEALAND

BY: ANDREW MARSHALL

“It’s magnificent cycling country,” declared 65-year-old Andy Bremner when I met him inside the Adventure Cycles shop in Auckland. Tanned, fit and sporting a milewide grin, Andy was completing his third season pedaling New Zealand and had so far clocked up 3000 km. "There’s nothing I like better than to pack up each morning, load the panniers on the racks, look over the handlebars and head off down that open road,” he said.

With its magnificent volcanic landscapes, gushing geysers and rugged coastlines backed by prehistoric rainforest, there can be no better way to experience this cool green land, and certainly no better speed, than by bicycle.

My plan was to cycle from the North Island to the glaciers on the South Island, but when I got down to the actual route planning, the line on my map zigzagged all over the place in an attempt to take in just some of the abundant points of interest.

It was a gray drizzly Auckland morning when I caught the ferry to the Coromandel Peninsula – a densely forested coastal strip across the Firth of Thames. The boat had barely pulled alongside the dock before I was off, legs pumping, and the salt air fresh in my lungs, the bitumen rolling steadily beneath my wheels.

Cycling along the coast I passed through the characterful towns of Manaia, Waikawau and Tapu. By late afternoon I'd covered my first 50 km with just enough time to set up camp in Thames, and cook quick pasta on my stove before dark.

Day two is always the hardest on a cycle tour. The reality of stiff muscles and a tender behind hit home as I loaded up the bike and hit the road. But a couple of hours later the stunning scenery was enough to distract my mind from aching body parts. And besides, the first of many highlights was within reach.

In the coming days I turned inland to the Rotorua region, well-known for it's geysers, hot springs, mud pools and shimmering lakes. I spent endless days in the saddle skirting the very heart of the North Island, along the shores of beautiful Lake Taupo, New Zealand's largest lake and onto the Tongariro National Park where I camped for a couple of nights to take a break from cycling and experience one of the world's best day walks - the Tongariro Alpine Crossing.

With its fine collection of active volcanoes, Tongariro National Park is one of New Zealand's most spectacular parks, and the 19.4 km Tongariro Alpine Crossing (which takes about 7-9 hours) traverses this surreal landscape dominated by three volcanoes: Mt Ruapehu (2797m) the highest and most active, Mt Tongariro (1968m), the oldest but still considered active, and the much younger Mt Ngauruhoe (2291m). Volcanic craters, brilliantly colored volcanic lakes, hot springs, glacial valleys, cones and lava flows are some of the many highlights of this stunning World Heritage Site.

The crossing from the North Island to the South Island is always a psychological milestone for any cyclist. Leaving the cultural and artistic hub of Wellington, I rode the ferry to the pretty little town of Picton, situated at the head of the Queen Charlotte Sound on the South Island.

The lack of traffic was immediately apparent as I pedaled off towards Nelson, reveling in magnificent coastal views over the Marlborough Sound. For the weary cyclist like

myself, the laid back town of Nelson represented a cosmopolitan oasis; waterholes at local pubs, great restaurants and the best chance to stock up on provisions for my 2-3 day journey inland and across to Westport on the west coast.

Cycling New Zealand is certainly a challenge but despite its hilly nature, it attracts cyclists from all over the globe and stopping to chat is a common occurrence. “You’ve got about 5km of climbing ahead of you, but it’s a great downhill after that," is typical of the comments from fellow cyclists you meet on the road.

From Dutch couples, members of the Cross Canada Cycle Tour Society, single Kiwis, to super fit German couples towing trailers of gear behind the latest in bicycle technology, there seemed no limit to age or nationality, all sharing a great sense of adventure and camaraderie.

From Westport to Greymouth, South Highway 6 hugs the west coast as tightly as a pair of Lycra bike shorts. In a series of dramatic switchbacks the road snakes between the white-capped breakers out to sea, and the foothills of the rainforest-clad Paparoa Ranges, cloaked in tree ferns and stands of ancient beech, rata and rimu.

After days in the saddle sampling some of the world’s most glorious scenery, I was finally within reach of my goal, the Franz Josef Glacier situated in the World Heritage Westland National Park. The glacier along with nearby Fox glacier is unique, for nowhere else on earth at this latitude have they advanced so close to the sea.

But cycling is not the way to go in this land of ice; it’s much better to take the helicopter. The whir of the chopper’s blades sounded like a gigantic insect when it came in to land, sending a blast of wind towards the small group of waiting travelers. The athletic figure of outdoor guide Murray Naylor crouched low beside the helicopter as he beckoned each person over one by one.

This was the start of my heli-hike – and within a few minutes the helicopter was flying over an immense river of ice that tumbled down a densely forested valley towards the sea. After superb panoramic views of the surrounding snow-capped mountains, we landed high up on top of the glacier between the icefalls for the start of our two-hour guided trip.

“This is one of the most dynamic glaciers in the world,” Murray told us as we donned warm hats and jackets to combat the sudden blast of cold air. “At times the glacier can move at up to five meters a day, over ten times as fast as glaciers in the Swiss Alps.”I quickly found myself immersed in a surreal landscape, surrounded by the sculptural beauty of ice. Fluted towers, eroded pinnacles, tunnels, pools, crevasses and frozen waves. The surface looked thin and brittle in places, but can in fact be up to 150 meters thick. It was an awesome opportunity to experience the type of scenery that is usually the domain of mountaineers.

Leaning on my ice axe I took a breather and savored the view. Back down the glacier’s flank a group of hikers created a snaking ribbon of color that contrasted vividly against the white of the ice, putting into perspective the immensity of this frozen world. It seemed the perfect moment to reflect on my bicycle journey.

Within a month I’d accomplished what I had set out to do, ride from north to south and reach the glaciers by pedal power-a journey of nearly 2,000 km. Now all that was left was the bus, ferry and train back to Auckland. The thought left me feeling flat. Already I was yearning to be back in the saddle again, with the wind in my face and the beguiling beauty of this green and mountainous land filling my view.