Edoras, Mt Cook Glacier and a Ray Mears experience?

Over the last two days I completed the most adventuresome ride of my entire stay so far.

I rode through some truly stunning landscapes: planes, mountains, a glacier to dry river beds.

I found the location for Edoras, the Rohan city built for Lord of the Rings. The striking outcropping of rock in the Mount Potts high country station in the Rangiata Gorge in Canterbury seems an obvious film location in retrospect. I tried to imagine the intricate theatrical set whilst dicing with rocks and gravel under my tyres.

Then after a late arrival at the hostels of Lake Tekapo and almost having to spend the night in the carpark, I headed to Mt Cook and found my way up the Tasman Valley Road which leads directly to the glacier. It stops at a car park and a hut where a sign reads "Track not maintained. Vehicle access not advised." Sounds like an invitation to me...


The road was rugged, winding through enormous boulders and scree slopes. It had an eerie, other-worldly feel. I've never been anywhere like it. The scale of the surrounding grey mountainsides was breathtaking. The glacier is 29km long. It is covered in shards of fallen grey rubble, the green-white of the ice flow only visible at the southern end.

This picture is from towards the end of the valley walk right at the edge of Tasman Glacier. Can you spot the bike in the landscape?!



After the glacier I headed down the Pukaki River Road which follows a mostly dry river bed down a delta of old water courses towards a lake. The map only shows one main track; in reality there are many, some hardly discernable from the river bed itself. I suddenly found I was lost in the middle of nowhere with no roads and no accurate map. The path was well worn, just not well drawn. The track seemed well defined. I had to cross water, fast flowing and in places about two feet deep. The first crossing caught me out. Somehow the front wheel slid and I was suddenly on my side, left glove and both feet filling with cold water. Note to self. Wrapping your leaky boots in duct tape makes no difference. Be a real adventure rider and accept getting your feet wet.






I picked it up, with the help of super human adrenaline that occurs at times like this, and walked it out in first gear under revs, like you might encourage a granny on a zimmer frame to negotiate some tricky steps. I was wet now so each of the next 3 crossings I waded to gauge the depth. Then I was out of the rubble and riding up on to a bank to view the entire delta. It could have been Africa except for the power pylons.

But I had ended up the wrong side of the lake. After over an hour of fjording rivers and negotiating some serious rubble, I managed to retrace my route and discover to my annoyance that crossing the water courses would not have been necessary if I had seen the (now obvious) white stones marking the official route, leading to the iron bridge I should have taken at first. I was across and out of trouble. I had seriously considered surviving the night in the dry delta. In my head I was making shelters, stone igloos, wind breaks. It was going to be a mild night. I would have just had to make do with four squares of Cadbury's Caramel til daybreak.

After the river road, I headed straight out towards Timaru via Mackenzie Pass. The mountain pass was steeped in mist, which produces fine rain (soaks you through). My feet were squelching, getting colder (Ray Mears will tell you that water removes heat from the body 20times faster than air) so I decided to skip finding a hostel and head straight back to Christchurch.

On route I stopped at a petrol station to dry my feet, change socks and dry my boots with tissue paper. The garage was just about to close so i did all this on the forecourt. The proprietor didn't mind. He even gave me the day's last three hot pies for free. That made the last 2 hours more bearable as it was really getting cold. Maybe that night in the river delta wouldn't have been so cosy after all...