A serious dose of West Coast fever! – Part 4

Welcome to the final installment of an epic adventure with an overflowing glow of West Coast fever, and maybe, just maybe we’ve saved the best for last!! We hope you are loving the latest Grit and Sprit craziness and are ready for one more installment – I promise you I never intended on writing four parts to this West Coast story, it just kinda turned out that way. I started writing and the story had so many elements to it and seemed to carry on, and carry on, and carry on…

…so on with the story – here we are on the beach somewhere well south of the Anatori River on the upper West Coast. We’ve already had some incredible fun riding the great Coast roads, running the Oparara marathon, taking on the technical Mackley Track with some added challenge thrown in for good measure, playing catch up from the delays at Mackley River and now we’ve made adventuring friends and we’re way out there on the beach well south of the Anatori River.

How happy are we?!?
Our current location – Big River ~20-25kms south of Anatori

If you remember, we’d also been having regular weather chats? If you’re excited by the weather chat head back to the last blog and catch up again. But here we were – at Big River ~20-25kms south of Anatori River – remember we’d reached as far south as we could…

…AND THEN IT HAPPENED…

…the heavens opened and it started bucketing down, we were on the West Coast and when it rains on the Coast, it really rains!! Some might even call it biblical proportions rain – I have no idea what this actually refers to but it feels fitting in this scenario!!

In most places they measure the annual rainfall in millimetres, but on the Coast typically they measure the annual rainfall in metres, that’s the Coast’s relationship with rain. If you’re from the Coast you don’t let the rain slow you down, it’s just part and parcel of life, and it often actually feels more like a part of home rather than a hinderance. I have this wonderful yearning for rain and a safe, cosy, comforting feeling when it’s raining – I’ve always wondered whether it’s to do with my formative years of growing up on the Coast and having heavy rain be such a common part of life.

In fact, it was raining so hard that we didn’t even bother to stop and put on our wet weather gear because we were saturated before we could even considered the idea. And we knew we had to get going, when it’s raining this hard on The Coast you have no idea how hard it’s raining up in the hills, or how long it’s been raining up there, and the distance from the hills to the coast is not a lot, so the rivers can rise very rapidly.

So, here we were maybe 20-25kms south of the Anatori River and we didn’t know how quickly the Anatori was going to rise so we wasted no time at all in heading back to get across the river as quick as we could. There was no way we wanted to be stuck south of a flooded river with no way out, we’d be absolutely saturated and it’d be bucketing down and the only cover we would have would be our tents – definitely not an ideal scenario so we knew we had to head north, and FAST!!!

We left Big River with our friends now nowhere in site, they’d hit the beach even quicker than we had and were out of site in the torrential rain before we could blink, we were on our own and the anxiety was NOT at all time low levels. We reached the Anaweka and quickly bounced and bounded back across the estuary, no signs of rivers rising yet – whew!! It still seemed a miracle we’d made it across the Anaweka in the first place, so relief step #1 was achieved – we were not south of the Anaweka anymore!

Next we raced back along the wide open beach, getting pummeled by the torrential rain, but it didn’t matter – we could not get any wetter than we already were! The cruisy nature of the stroll down the beach was a thing of the past, then was no cruisiness now, there was only speed and hearts pumping in our throats.

We arrived at the sand dunes and took the opposite approach to the way we’d taken earlier, via the side of the lagoon – it was still fine, the lagoon had not risen at all… yet! But the little bank of incredibly soft sand back onto the dunes themselves proved to be niggly – no problem going down, but once Steve had stirred up the sand on his way back up and loosened and softened the sand a bit, there was no way back up for Misty, not without a special push from Steve anyway! Relief step #2 passed.

Luckily, with the anxiety levels high and rushing as quick as we could, we still remembered we had to get our kit we’d stored by the Rave Pit (refer to Part 3 for details on the Rave Pit ๐Ÿ™‚ ). The only issue was that the Rave Pit had now taken on a new persona, it was now the Muddy Brown Ice Rink – the dirt on top without grass had rapidly turned to a layer of slick mud, and there was no grip at all. We kept the tap open, slid around and tried to get our bikes over to where the gear was hidden. In an instant Misty and I were on the mud, slick as ice! But the adrenaline was pumping hard, so it not time at all we were back on our feet again. We loaded the gear as quickly as possible, not even bothering to strap it down properly, as long as it wasn’t going to come off, it was not a problem. And on we raced…

Now we had the Turimawiwi River to deal with, fast flowing with some biggish rocks but not too deep… yet!! There was no clear evidence the Turimawiwi had risen yet, or had she? There was no time for analysis, I was on the other side and off up the road – waiting just long enough to see Steve and Black Dog clearing the river behind me as well. Relief step #3 accomplished.

Now we only had the small matter of about 12kms on gravel back to the Anatori. On we raced, stopped only briefly by a closed farm gate, I stopped and opened it as Steve raced on through. The last concern came as a surprise, I was close behind Steve and he clearly jolted significantly over something, too late, so did I. It was a particularly severe rut in the road – I filled with dread that one of us might have punctured or bent a front rim with the force of the hit, but no time to stop and assess. On we raced…

We arrived at the south side of the Anatori, and for the first time in who knows how long – maybe an hour – we let out a breath – maybe it was longer or maybe it was shorter – but it certainly felt like a lifetime!!! The Anatori may have risen slightly but nothing to be too concerned by – we didn’t even bother with the idea of taking our boots off as we had earlier – we raced across, stopping just long enough to support each other to make it safely to the other side – we could not have a fall in the river at this late stage once we’d almost achieved all we needed to get safe again. Final ultimate relief step #4 fulfilled. We were “safe” north of the Anatori. But on we raced…

It was still bucketing down, and there was no reason to stop – so we raced on back up the Anatori road wanting to get somewhere where we could get dry and warm up as quick as we could. We didn’t even stop to say hi to our new friends we’d had lunch with earlier, not that we could actually spy them anyway. So on we raced and then by some miraculous force the rain cleared – what had actually happened is that the rain was coming in from the south and we’d travelled north back up the beach and gravel road so fast that we’d managed to get ahead of the rain again. So here we were on dry gravel roads but we were utterly saturated, all very strange really, but a great relief!!

Now we were ahead of the rain we had a moment, at Patarau River, to stop and think – what was our plan now it was getting into the evening and we were pretty cold and wet? Could we find somewhere to stay nearby or would we have to head all the way back out to Golden Bay and maybe Pakawau or even back to Collingwood? We thought we’d try our luck with what we could find on the road but were mentally preparing for the hour long ride in our super wet gears back to Pakawau where we remembered seeing a campground – camping in the rain would be super fun once it arrived but maybe they had some cabins?!?

And then things started to happen, just a couple of kms down the road at Mangarฤkau we saw a sign for some accommodation – head down this side road to Wetland View Park. Was it worth a shot? Sure why not! The worst that could happen would be that it wasn’t suitable, or they had no space, and we would get caught by the rain again and get more wet than we already were, although we weren’t even sure that was possible!! Off we headed down this side road, and it ran on for quite some way and at the very end with bush and shrubs overgrown everywhere was a sign, Wetland View Park, and a driveway…

…in we went to be greeted by a slightly bemused looking Sally, with Giff joining a few seconds later. The look on Sally’s face was something to behold, two drowned rats arriving on motorbikes, probably a little hysterical, a likely slightly crazed look in their eyes – she must have been wondering how and why we’d rolled into this remotest of remote places looking the way we did as it had yet to rain here in Mangarฤkau. We advised emphatically that the rain was definitely coming, and asked very meekly whether they might have a place to house two overly damp individuals.

Arrival at Wetland View Park – Chalet Rimu greeting us ๐Ÿ™‚

The look on their faces was very revealing, Wetland View Park was a small luxury twin chalet accommodation, a slightly upmarket hideaway for those who don’t mind paying a little bit for their night’s stay. Their faces certainly told us that they didn’t feel that a luxury chalet was the appropriate place for a couple of bedraggled bikers, but also that they felt for us very slightly in the challenging situation we were currently in. What they actually said was that the chalets were quite expensive, around $200/night, and they didn’t really have a place for us anyway because they’d had people stay last night and the chalets had not been cleaned following their stay. Steve, although fatigued and saturated, didn’t miss a beat, the opportunist that he is, suggesting that we’d be more than happy to stay in an uncleaned chalet for half price. I think it was probably the shock of the suggestion that had them on the back foot responding positively, probably before they’d really thought it through, but their goodness and want to help shone through over the apprehension about the bedraggled bikers.

Steve – 1, Wetland View Park – 0!!

With a huge amount of relief we went about unloading our very wet gear, and very wet riding clothes as the heavens opened up on us again. But we could now hide in the veranda of Chalet Rimu, while our poor bikes, Black Dog and Misty Mountain Hop, took another beating by the weather. At least they’d be nice and clean for tomorrow!! So, now we had a roof over our heads, and a place to warm up and dry off… and a place to turn into a Chinese laundry!! We cranked the heating system and hung up pretty much everything we had. The rain had unsurprisingly got through everything.

Chinese laundry time in Chalet Rimu

But for the first time in a good few hours we could breathe and start to relax again, the anxiety levels and adrenaline had been sky high for quite a while now, but once again we’d survived, we’d made it through a super interesting and challenging situation and seemed to have fallen on our feet in a luxury chalet. We even had some leftover cans of food for dinner, and felt the warmth of Sally and Giff’s hospitality with a loaf of bread, some butter and a jar of their locally sourced manuka honey. That stuff was HEAVEN in a jar!! Wow!!

View from the deck – pretty spectacular just after some intense West Coast rain!!

The anxiety ebbed away as we relaxed in this beautiful location, the rain also ebbed away reveling a stunning outlook from the chalet – looking over a wetland of all things. We enjoyed a chilled evening and a great sleep after a massive and somewhat intense day, but we needed to be well rested and ready for the final leg of the adventure. We had to get the last Guardian Post at Totaranui and then make it home – remember you cannot get any further away from Dunedin by road than where we were right now.

Morning arose and generally most of our gear had dried out, and the final bits were not far away. Although putting on damp riding jeans on a cool morning is not the nicest experience I’ve ever had. So we packed up and looked to get underway, thanking Sally and Giff profusely for having us to stay!!

As I was loading up my Misty I noticed my chain was looking pretty slack – mmmmm, not a big issue but certainly needed a bit of tightening. I did this, we said our farewells and got on our way. Riding back to Pakawau on the freshly graded and then moisturised gravel road turned out to be quite interesting – the combination of grading and moisture had turned large parts of the road to slippery sludge, so we made slow but safe progress back to the tarmac!! Although the more pressing concern was the graunching noises coming from my chain. What was going on? Did it have some grit in it that wouldn’t come out? It could do given the sludge on the road…

We arrived back in Collingwood and I had an idea on how we could clean my chain. My in-laws ancestral family home is in Collingwood so I wondered if they might have a hose there we could clean the chain off with. We headed around and there were some people sitting in the front. Given it’s used as a holiday home and people can rent it out, it’s not surprising – so I smiled and went over for a chat. I explained my relationship to the house and they were more than accommodating in letting me grab a key and get into the shed for a hose – a nice solution! We hosed off the chain, cleaning all the grit that had accumulated in the morning sludge ride and tried again – on we headed to Takaka – unfortunately my chain continuing to graunch all the way. This was slightly concerning given we still had a good 1000km+ to complete to get home and today was a Sunday – not the best day for any mechanics to be at work.

Masters Place – Collingwood ๐Ÿ™‚

We cruised into Takaka, our eyes peeled for a garage that might be open, nothing doing… until Steve, feeling the power of The Force, suddenly ducked down an alleyway and around the back of the main street buildings – and there was a guy fixing a truck in a mechanics bay. Steve just smiled and said he had a feeling. Slightly perturbing but miracle nonetheless!!

So, we had a chat to the mechanic, who was brutally honest with us saying he was a truck mechanic and had not the slightest clue about motorbikes, but was more than happy to help us out with any tools that might make our job easier. We grabbed a socket set and went about a check-over of the chain and sprockets. There was nothing obvious about the front sprocket, no gravel or grit obvious in there and the chain looked pretty clean. Nothing obvious was jumping out. Mmmmmm, what now? I rolled the back wheel around in frustration, while Misty was on her centre stand, and the answer became clear!

Poor old Misty – what is going on with your chain?

The chain was obviously getting old, that was a given, and what had started happening is that it was loosening, but in only one spot – so at a certain point it looked a bit loose, but if you rolled it round a bit further, then it was actually really taut. We slackened the chain off, so it would run freely all the way around, and the graunch ceased to exist – whew!! The only worry now was the chain lasting all the way home, and the other slightly weird issue and perturbing feeling of Misty pulsing along as the chain went around, most noticeable at lower speeds – as I would hold constants revs, Misty would push forwards and then back off with every revolution of the chain. Weird and slightly disconcerting but manageable.

The relief evident after fixing Misty’s chain – Totaranui – here we come!!

We filled up and fortunately, given all the drama of the morning, remembered our one last significant task for the trip, to head in and get the Guardian Post from Totaranui. My son would never have forgiven me if we’d forgotten this final task. This is a one-way in, one-way out road – half tarmac – beautifully winding it’s way around headlands and past golden sand beaches – and half-gravel – hitting the bush and winding up and over a ridge before dropping down into Totaranui itself. This is not the West Coast but another must if you’ve never been there. It is just spectacular and gives you a great insight into Abel Tasman National Park – stunning golden sand beaches, turquoise water, native bush and rocky outcrops creating an other-worldly spectacle.

Arrival in Totaranui – sun shining in this stunning place

Once again, as we get increasingly often these days with the number of kms and trips we’re getting under our belts, certain aspects of a trip remind us of where we’ve come from. Way back in 2016, we hit our first ever multi-day motorbike trip, quite similar to this one where we started from Dunedin, headed up the West Coast and then over into Golden Bay – we remember this piece of road to Totaranui and especially the gravel component, it was so much more of a challenge on that first adventure. Steve remembered a front wheel slide and topple over on the loose gravel and I remembered the challenge and cautiousness taken on this road clearly. This led to a little apprehension about this bit of road, but this time, with the number of kms now in our past and the skills developed from that, it was a doddle and so much fun!!!

Sorry, there are no answers here!! Go get it yourself, it’ll be a great adventure ๐Ÿ™‚

After completing the job of the Guardian Post we lapped up the incredible serenity of this stunning place, knowing this was our last chance before the big race home. Thank you Abel Tasman, you are spectacular and a lot of fun!!

Could be worse!
How ’bout that serenity?

Leaving Totaranui had an interesting feel to it, that feeling of knowing you’re now going to be locked onto your bike seat for the foreseeable future, smashing out kms. You need to get yourself into the right sort of headspace for big kms – it’s becomes time to find this special place of calm meditativeness while remaining cognizant of your riding and what’s going on around you – it’s a state of relaxed concentration – but also a state of being ready for the physical challenge of long hours in the saddle, low back ache, right forearm fatigue, leg muscles stiffening up, neck getting tight. It’s just another aspect of bike adventuring that has it’s own type of fun – you just have to find a headspace that determines it as fun and not torture!!

The other thing you need to do is ensure you make the most of the bits of road that give you joy, because there’ll be long bits of road that are to be endured as well. We spent the next six hours in the saddle, with just short rest breaks, enjoying that relaxed concentrative state – meditating our way to Jacksons, just down the valley from Otira and Arthurs Pass. But to get to Jacksons from Totaranui you get multitudes of joy:

  1. Totaranui to Pohara – epic combo of gravel and curvy coastline tarmac,
  2. Takaka Hill – beyond epic hill road, the curves endless and perfectly synced for a sustained period of joy,
  3. Motueka River Valley West Bank – long open curves on a incredibly quiet road tracking along the river, gifting you outstanding river valley views,
  4. Motupiko to Murchison – a quick joyous blowout over Hope Saddle, tight hairpin bends on one side, open fast curves on the other, before winding through Kawatiri and joining the start of the upper Buller River – one section has this perfect combo of ever tightening curves, left-right-left-right-left-right – bliss, and
  5. The Upper Buller Gorge – totally epic bush clad roads, combining tight and open curves, surrounded by scenery that you’d spend hours staring at, if you weren’t so high on the perfect riding roads!!

You also get a few mundane sections but we don’t need to focus on those – the joy is a much better way to bring a smile to our faces ๐Ÿ™‚

We arrived in Jacksons as the sun was setting and the air was rapidly cooling. Another massive day achieved, another day providing an amazing sense of achievement and adventure – another day trying to fill that gap, trying to find what we’ve been looking for!!

Jacksons has this beautiful little campground, Jacksons Retreat Alpine Holiday Park, the name itself makes you feel like you’re awaiting a spa treatment, but really you’re just looking for a good sleep. It was very quiet at the Holiday Park and given it was late, the owner did us a little favour. We paid for a couple of plain old campsites, the cheapest thing they had, and then he very kindly offered us use of these powered covered tent sites, with a tent already set up. Bliss after a massive day on the road – the carefree arrival of not having to set up a tent. This meant we could get down to dinner and chilling in their shared area, music and fire cranking, and we had it all to ourselves, that’s how quiet it was ๐Ÿ™‚

Pre-prepared covered tents – perfect after a huge day in the saddle (not our photo)

The final day dawned to bliss, packing up our bikes without having to deal with a dew covered tent and gear. Thank you Jacksons Retreat Alpine Holiday Park – thank you for your kindness – it really made it super easy!! It was the perfect way to get us ready for the 500kms home. Just some quick breakfast followed by the joy of the road over Arthurs Pass.

And now just one final thing to get sorted on the way home – a jaunt down Lyndon Road to Lake Coleridge and on to Rakaia Gorge – clearly advertised as a dry weather road only, and something that had caught our eye before but it’d never quite been the right time. Well today, was now the right time!! We’d seen these dry weather roads before throughout Central Otago so our intrigue was real, what eventuated was less than amazing. Canterbury again under delivering on their adventurous scenic roads!

Maybe I’m being a bit unfair, it wasn’t horrible, I guess we could give it a pass mark, and it was way more fun than an extra 40kms on the outstandingly boring Canterbury Plains. We did have one bit of fun, where we overtook a guy in a ute who clearly didn’t appreciate the gesture, so he proceeded to tailgate us at ridiculously dangerous speeds in a ute on gravel roads. He kept this up for a while before we decided intelligence over valour and let him through, his big ego swaggering all the way to where-ever he was headed. Good luck mate ๐Ÿ˜‰

Lake Coleridge and the mountains in the distance

Once back on the main road at Rakaia Gorge it was a matter of knuckling down and finishing off this epic adventure. Just one stop in Geraldine for some lunch and on home in time for dinner. Just a cool 2500km after leaving home six days earlier.

The Last Supper (Lunch) in Geraldine

Wow, now I’ve written this blog series I cannot quite believe how much of a story it has become. When you go about actually writing it down and expressing all that happened and all the feelings and emotions that encompass all of the events involved, it becomes a story way more epic than just 2500kms and six days away with a mate on a motorbike. Sorry (but not sorry) for it becoming four parts, but we hope it’s drawn you into our adventuring world just a little bit more and given you a feeling of the highs, lows and challenges that are part and parcel of a typical Grit and Sprit adventure.

And one thing is for sure, we definitely caught an incredibly serious dose of West Coast Fever, but unlike other fevers we’d happy get another dose anytime ๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ™‚ ๐Ÿ™‚

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