And here starts Part Two of this marvellous adventure – we will address the previously posed questions – what awaits us on Day 2 of the Mackley Track? More 40% gradients? More stream crossings? More spectacular tiger country?
And what lies beyond – we still have to make it to Guardian Post #2 at Totaranui – will we make it? And what about Anatori, it seems like a distant dream currently? And what lies ahead with West Coast Fever? Will the fever hit us hard, giving us adventuring sweats and chills? Or will we sail plainly through the fever and hit more miraculous highs?
Read on for the answers and some other bits and pieces of adventure, maybe a few dramatic situations, maybe some good vibes, maybe some highs and lows – who knows, but trust us when we say the adventure was really only just beginning!!!
So, we last left you at an incredibly beautiful but isolated campsite midway along the Mackley Track, halfway between Denniston and the Iron Bridge in the Buller Gorge.
The day started as you might expect in a rainforest, with low cloud hanging over the thick native bush, providing an eerie closeness to everything. Visibility was low and what we could see loomed large over us as we packed our gear, waiting to see what the rest of the track held for us. So it was a with a small amount of trepidation that we hit the road and tried to warm our bodies and minds immediately for the rugged trail stretching invitingly out beyond our front wheels.
Actually, bear with me here, this is the perfect time to veer off this fabulous story to fill in some background on us, our bikes and the journey we’ve been on. Steve and I were chatting recently as I’d realised I keep referring to our bikes as “Steve’s bike” and “my bike” in this blog. I felt like we had discussed names for our bikes before, but nothing had really stuck. But we’ve spent so much time, been on so many adventures and faced so many challenges with our stalwart DRs that they should have names as we really have a personal connection with them now. We know their intricacies, we know their foibles, we know their moods, we rely on them and we lean on them when the going gets tough – we have a relationship with them!!
So when I reached out to Steve he reminded me he’d actually named his beautiful black DR on our first ever multi-day trip. He’d bought his bike from a guy in the Hawkes Bay, flown up, picked it up, ridden down to my place in Wellington at the time and we properly hit the road for the first time. Holy moly, it almost brings a tear to the eye to think back that far and think about how far we’ve come on this journey of discovery and adventure. Two days later we hit Milford Sound about 11pm (a sign of things to come – Grit and Sprit – “adventures starting late and finishing later“), and there was no room at the inn. The campground was full so we had to find a place to sleep in a place where there was no places to sleep, and freedom camping is very much not allowed. 15 minutes later we had found a brilliantly secluded spot, no risk of being caught and the ability to open your tent door to the looming peaks and waterfalls all around – but it’s a secret and we can’t tell you where it is, or we’d have to…
But believe us when we say it was just amazing!! But that’s not why I’ve headed back to this auspicious time – the reason I’ve headed here is that Steve actually already had a name for his DR, confirmed in his mind as we rode into Milford on our first crazy bike adventure, three days after buying it – of course he did, and of course I’d forgotten!!
So memory jogged, drumroll please – let me introduce you to… Black Dog!
So before you start questioning Steve and his motives here, listen up – Steve is a very musical type guy, and being a 70s child feels a connection to various big bands of that time that influenced his formative days. So Led Zeppelin would be one band that obviously jumps to mind, and add to the fact that his new bike had a black after-market petrol tank (which is quite unusual – the norm is my white one), and his after-market exhaust was not the quietest thing around – in fact, when I’m riding behind Steve there are times I can’t actually hear my own bike because his beast is barking so loud. Hence, music, Led Zeppelin, after-market tank and barking after-market exhaust led Steve to his beauty – Black Dog.
Now, my beauty has never actually had a name – I feel ashamed to admit now. So when I raised this with Steve, I was very open to correcting this major error in judgement. Someone had raised the idea of my bike being called a White Cat of some description eg White Cougar or something similar, to correlate nicely with Steve’s Black Dog. I wasn’t feeling it… Steve raised the idea of another Led Zeppelin song, now I’m a lot less musical, some say I dance to my own beat, or the silence between the beats, but I still love a legendary old rock band. I was open to the idea and we bandied some options back and forth – White Summer, Heartbreaker, The Lemon, The Crunge, The Rover, Misty Mountain Hop, Darlene….
Given what I’ve just written about prior to diverting into this was us waking up in a Misty Mountain campsite. We were certainly doing our best to hop over this rugged terrain – it felt good – so Misty is born!!!
As an aside we thought our blog could be called Ramble On or Communication Breakdown – hahaha!! Let us know your thoughts on these blog names!!
So, on with the story…
Before you could shout boo to the looming cloud ghost the terrain got steep again, we headed back up briefly before careening down another 30-40% gradient reaching Mt William Stream before we’d really woken up. Don’t worry, Mt William Stream certainly providing the wake up slap in the face we “needed”. It seemed weird, this was a 4WD track but there was certainly no way a 4WD would be making it’s way over this stream. Huge boulders had obviously been washed down in the previous storms and made this small stream crossing rather treacherous!!
We navigated and bounced our way around big rock after big rock to the edge of the stream that was only about 4 metres wide, but in real West Coast fashion it was deeper than you thought, faster running than you wanted and the bottom looked less inviting than is ideal. Steve rock bounced and tyre slid across – only needing a moderate to heavy push to get up the bank on the other side and free. My go…, and all was fine until it wasn’t. I rock bounced and tyre slid almost to the other side, and as my front wheel started up the bank, one big rock was clearly a little slippery and as I tried to gas it a little my back wheel slid down the side of the rock and I took a little morning swim with my beautiful Misty. The clouds had lifted, the sun was coming out and it was warming up, so a quick swim kinda made sense!!! No damage done, on with our morning…
Starting immediately with a handlebar gripping ascent out of Mt William Stream, the terrain the same as it’d been since yesterday afternoon – loose gravel, large stones, small boulders, stupidly tight hairpin bends, drop offs at the outside of the stupidly tight hairpins bends that fell off for hundreds of metres. We pushed on, enthralled by the challenge lying in front of us, loving the adventure. Once again we were in the midst of it all, adventure vibes bubbling over – leaving us grinning grimly.
So over the next ridge we fought, followed by another 30-40% decline down to… the Mackley River. We’d just hit the next level, but the sun was shining, we were brimming with joy, we were ready for the challenge. Back in Part One, in the line-up at Corbyvale, we’d struck up a conversation with a couple of local guys who’d given us some local knowledge on the Mackley River crossing. The secret was to head upstream and cross in an almost inverted U-shape. We stopped and considered the river, while changing into our boardies, anticipating some wetness on the legs as a maximum.
But first we took a moment to admire the spot we were in. We were heavily involved in a serious adventure now – the sun was beaming down, the river was crisp and calm, the forest was glowing on this gleaming day. It was a spot of spots, but it was also going to take a little bit of skill to traverse this river and get on with our day.
So, the day was sparkling, the river low and calm and we felt positive about what lay in front of us, so perhaps with a little bit too much false confidence we discussed our options. I was typically a little more cautious while Steve was keen as mustard to “give it a nudge”. The good vibes pushed hard, and Steve headed upstream and out across the river. What appeared to be pretty shallow actually turned out to be a little less shallow than you’d think and things quickly turned from a little jaunt across a wide shallow river, to a bike stalling and concern about it taking on water. I quickly waded out to Steve and we pushed and pushed and eventually got his bike out the other side. It was deep, but not outrageously so, we hoped Black Dog wasn’t thirsty and we wouldn’t have to undrown her. Although it’s not the first time so we weren’t feeling too worried about the prospect. Also, I can tell you that a bike in thigh deep water with a rocky bottom is actually really hard to push forwards, so we had to us our combined “muscle”, but we managed to get her out the other side…
So, we had to cross our fingers – had Black Dog taken on water? Would she start? Would we have to test our undrowning skills again? What we decided was that we could wait to find that answer out while Black Dog had a moment to think about her actions and dry out a little, as Misty was waiting patiently for her go at the river. As usually happens when things don’t go according to plan with Take 1, we changed it up a little with Take 2. I walked the river a little more cautiously than before, and tried a few different angles, and as it turns out the inverted U-shape needed to be a lot deeper than we’d examined on Take 1. Meaning heading quite a bit further upstream proved to be a much better option. Take 2 also involved a little more pushing and a little less riding. And low and behold, Misty arrived on the other side in good shape.
It was still mid-morning, the sun was beaming down, it was turning into a stunning day. We had high hopes for how far we’d make it today. We wanted to knock off the rest of the Mackley Track, get some brunch in Murchison, smash out some kms, go to heaven on Takaka Hill, and push down the West Coast – hoping to camp in or around Anatori somewhere. Would this all be a possibility? Mackley River, will you let us pass and on our way? Well, here goes. Black Dog, will you start…? Well, no… no you won’t…
Ok, this is not the end of the world, we’ve had this happen before and last time it did, we resolved it pretty quick, but that was with Misty. Our big plans for the day were still on the cards. It just might have to be Murchison for lunch then.
We’d learned a few things from our previous experiences with wet bikes, so were confident we’d get her going. Fortunately there was a nice flat area covered in shade that we pushed the Dog up into and got to work; Misty just chillin’ while we worked.
We stripped the Dog down, emptied her airbox – there was certainly water in there – so we proceeded with taking the spark plugs out and turning the engine over – there was certainly water in there too, bugger! She’d now had plenty of time to dry off, the electrics should be fine and we’d removed plenty of water from her. So here goes… she’s turning over, this is good. She sounds ok, so we should get her going soon. I start packing up my gear that’s been drying in the sun, and start to reload Misty. Meanwhile, Steve keeps turning the engine over, she sounds so close to firing but she’s not – what’s going on here??
We stop for a bit and consider where we’re at. We think we’re close but can’t afford to just keep trying to start her or the battery will run down. So, we run through the process again of ensuring all the water is removed. Steve recalls an additional trick he’s read somewhere about tipping the bike up on her back wheel to allow any excess water in the engine to run back out through the exhaust. With a bit of trial and error we figure out the easiest way to get Black Dog standing on her hind wheel – some water drains out – a further good sign. We drop her back down, and try again – she’s so so so close but just doesn’t want to fire. This is getting a little bit frustrating and also maybe just a little bit concerning. We are not that far from Murchison, but in the same breath we are so so so far from Murchison. It’s not likely that a friendly farmer might just drive past in his ute to give the Dog a ride outta here – we are on our own, we have to find a solution…
So the sun is now high in the sky and past it’s peak for the day. Maybe we’re looking at Murchison for afternoon tea. We eat some of the quickly declining snacks we have left, drink some water and take a minute to breathe and stay chill. We try Black Dog again, and the battery is now dying. Oh shoot, this is another dilemma we do not need. Do we have the jumper leads? Ummmmm, no we don’t!! Not the end of the world, but trust me when I say, they are now etched into our packing list!!!
It’s time for a new plan, we have a bike that’s taken on water, and been emptied but is still not starting, and now her battery has run down. We’ve got two options as we see it – towing her or trying to roll start her. We have experience in both, although neither of us are fans of towing – need I send you back to previous blogs about towing – #1 or #2!!! But neither are going to happen from the spot we are in, we’ve crossed the Mackley River major, but a small mountain stream cascading down into the Mackley is between us and the track disappearing back up the next pretty steep incline.
And what lay between the stream and the ongoing track was a small gravel bank. It didn’t seem that serious from over here – but as we went for a closer look it became a little higher and with the gravel soft and loose, and it coming straight out the other side of the stream, it was not going to be as easy to navigate as we’d have liked. We were warned of this little bank by the guys at the Brass Monkey, so we were prepared to work it out. We’d find a way, as we usually do!!
We certainly started to feel the moment at this stage, we knew the pressure was now on. We knew we needed to make this work, as the day was moving on, the food was running down and it was becoming a little more challenging than we’d felt about it earlier when Black Dog first had her drink. As we’ve come to expect in our interactions at times of challenge, we stayed calm, discussed options and did not let the moment overwhelm us. We are able to express our frustration and worry with each other openly, sharing the load of the concern, while still being able to stay in the moment and think objectively about what the next steps need to be. We’ve shown these skills before and knew they were needed again now. This wasn’t towing through the mud in the dark, but it was a situation that certainly had potential to be quite troublesome!!
We took Misty over the small side creek, and with a bit of manipulation of the terrain we blasted her out the other side. It just needed a bit of controlled throttle and balance, but nothing too serious. Back for Take 2 – with no throttle, this could be a bit more challenging. We’d already taken all the gear over, so it was just the Dog – but the bank was too steep to push – no worries, a sidle up the bank having cut a little path worked wonders.
Now the track in front of us was open, but actually pretty damn steep, and that gravel was as loose as it’d been this morning and yesterday – not ideal towing conditions, but we thought we’d give it a try. It took no time at all to establish this was not the way forward. I skidded and slid and made no forwards progress at all – it was too steep and loose and there was not enough grip to consider towing. Oh dear, what could we do now – the only option was to get Black Dog going – there was no other option…
…well, there was another option which we discussed briefly. I could ride out to Murchison and arrange for a helicopter to come and pick up Black Dog and fly her out. Serious solutions for what was starting to appear a serious situation!! We didn’t think we’d got to that yet so considered what else we could do. We discussed the last time the Dog went for a swim, remember back to that super wet trip through Serpentine Church, when we had to push our bikes through a flooded river and the Dog had a good drink. We discussed that fact that it actually took Black Dog quite a lot of engine turning through towing to get her to fire – sure we hadn’t emptied the engine, but we hypothesised that maybe we just needed to get the engine turning over to help her fire – which meant a bunch of roll starting attempts on this steep slippery track.
But first we decided some reconnaissance was in order, we needed a break from this situation that was increasing in intensity. So I saddled up with an unloaded Misty, always bliss to be unloaded for a bit, while Steve took a load off in the shade. Immediately I started going up, and up, and it was steep. It was handlebar gripping steep, it was forearm pumping steep and there were big rocks to dodge and sharp hairpins bends with drop offs hundreds of metres to the Mackley River below. It was pretty daunting, and it was also an insight into what we’d come down yesterday if we ever wanted to go back up it!! And it kept going, it reminded me a lot of another intense climb we’d had, on the Porika Track coming out of Lake Rotoroa. Fortunately this time there was not 4WDers coming in the other direction – WHEW!!
Finally, I reached the top, took a moment to enjoy the serenity, turned around and headed back to Steve. The answer was clear, Black Dog had to start. So we set about pushing her up the track about 30m, turning her around and trying to roll start her. Rinse and repeat. I don’t know how many times we tried this, but it was hard work – wet weight of 166kg meant it was an effort in the heat on that steep a slope. But each time we got to the spot up the track, took a breath and turned her around, a little peak of anticipation came over us – was this the time she’d fire? What we sensed with each additional attempt was that she sounded a little closer to starting. It seemed our hypothesis was on the mark!
Then, she fired… WOOHOO!!!! She didn’t start but this told us she was definitely going to. One, two, three more times and the Dog fired into life – the relief was intense, the whooping was loud – we’d found a solution to the problem. Oh well, looks like it might be Murchison for dinner then!! So the Black Dog idled away while we loaded the girls up and with a huge amount of relief we hit the final part of Mackley Track together.
Ironically, we reached the top of the steep section I’d reconnoitered earlier and beyond that the track turned back into a standard gravel road – no crazy gradients, or loose and dangerous gravel, or big rocks or holes to dodge. So we let the anxiety of the afternoon subside as we rode on into the evening light. Next stop Murchison – we were super hungry, but fortunately had not hit the hangry stage yet.
It was a beautiful evening, and we stopped in at the first place we could find and they had a lovely outdoor area. We ordered some food and a well earned beverage and chilled for a bit, acknowledging (as you do) some other bikers having their dinner there too. And in true kindred spirit the other bikers vacated their table to continue their ride, and left some delicious looking leftover pizza on the their table. We were ravenous and utilising the kindred spirit, and perhaps a little guilty persuasion from me, Steve nipped over and stole the leftovers from their table before the waitress could clear it away. I might have suggested he owed it to me for his foray into Mackley River, or I might have not – who can say – it will only ever come down to a I said, you said situation 😉
Our bellies full and our spirits recovering after our tumultuous day, we considered our options. Anatori was out of the question tonight, as it was now getting on towards 9pm and the light was beginning to fade. Where could we get to? What would suffice from here? We decided that hitting the road without a defined plan was the best option – the goal, was to go as far as we could before we ran out of gas – not actual gas obviously, the day did not need that, but body gas. So on we raced… I think we were probably still a little topped up with adrenaline as we seemed to be delighting in some road riding and had some energy reserves to burn. Either that, or the relief was just so substantial that we felt we had to make the most of it on this spectacular evening.
So on we headed, past Owen River, past Kawatiri Junction, over Hope Saddle, left at Kohatu and down the Motueka River Valley – back to the haunts of my childhood years. It was now truly dark, and our stalwart old DR do not have the best headlights for night riding, but we battled on. We had to stop once to clean our visors, as we’d ridden through a swarm of moths and bugs. It was full-on intense, getting constantly battered while our vision slowly dwindled. We took it as a quick rest break too, had snack and got on with the job at hand. We decided to target the top of Takaka Hill for a place to rest our heads. It would mean trying to enjoy the Hill tonight in our fatiguing state, but there was always the other direction as we came back our of Golden Bay as well. The beauty of Takaka Hill for a bike rider is that if you go over it to Golden Bay, you MUST do it again on the way back out. Geez, life it tough!!!
So we skipped Motueka via back roads I knew from my teenage years, and hit the Hill. It was actually much better than we thought, quiet roads, Steve leading and obviously in the mood to party. He was making the most of this superb piece of road, staring intently into the dark dimly lit by his DR headlight. I was following his lead, sitting close behind to make the most of the double headlight action for a little bit better visibility. The potential to not enjoy the Hill tonight was clear, due to the day we’d had and the fatigue that was starting to settle in, but we know when it’s a moment to feel the joy, to appreciate where we are and what we’re doing, and focus on the amazing adventure we are deep within. And we did!!!
Now, at the top of Takaka Hill I knew the landscape pretty well, but not the potential camping sites. We tried one of the only side roads around but no suitable campsite was obvious, it just ended in people’s private property which is not the ideal place to pitch up around 11pm. So, we moved on and reached Canaan Road, heading into Canaan Downs. There was a campsite at the end of the road, but that was further than we wanted to go, so we headed down the road with an eye open to any possibilities. Not far along we found a spot on the side of the road, it was flat, big enough for two tents and not on private land. It would do, the day was done! It had been massive, an intense steep 4WD drive track start, a wet mishap in the middle, and ending with blasting out as many kms as we could. Job done!
It was a funny adventure this one – split clearly into different parts – leg 1 – Karamea & Oparara and leg 2 – Mackley Track now completed. The new day dawned with us staring leg 3 – Anatori squarely in the eyes. And we were excited, super excited – partly as a new day had dawned after yesterday’s drama – and new possibilities were looking back at us today. Further to that, we were headed for a small part of New Zealand and the South Island that two very widely travelled individuals had never been too. Bring it on!!
And here ends Part 2 as I realise that I have not answered all the questions you want answers to. Oh well, I guess you’ll just have to come back for Part 3 when I get around to it … 😉