Across the Central Plateau

We spent a relaxing night in Longford, where we joined up with our Swiss friends, met two older Australian couples, and spent the evening chatting away. Much of our conversation revolved around the deadly snakes and spiders in Australia (did I say it was a relaxing night... i meant unnerving). The two Australian couples shared their knowledge of these venomous creatures and told of their close encounters. Then, they assured us that we had nothing to worry about because the creatures are more scared of us than we are of them (apparently they do not know the level of fear I hold for snakes and spiders). Somehow we managed to fall asleep that night and rest up for a long day ahead.

The next day we embarked on our journey across the central plateau... we knew we had a large climb ahead, but did not know how long or how high because we were forging our own path not listed in our trusty guidebook. It was a bit discomforting when a fellow laughed at us after we told him where we were headed, but after riding the hills of New Zealand, we had confidence that we could climb anything.

The day started out among rolling hills through endless farm fields. Ahead loomed the giant, dark face of the Great Western Tiers... I kept looking for the lowest point among the Tiers... hoping that our road would lead us there. Unfortunately we crept closer and closer to a steep, tall wall. We began a slow ascent before stopping for lunch in Poatina... the last town we would pass for another 80km. Poatina was a small little resort village that had been a defunct mining town before being bought out by a group of Christians that helps troubled youth and trains people from all over the world to bring help to young people across the globe. It was neat to learn a little of the town's history while we munched on some fuel for the long climb ahead.

As we began to get chilled, we mounted our "push-bikes" (as they call them here) and headed back out on our upward journey. Mally put on some tunes and I settled into my not-so-granny gear and we both began trudging our way up the mountain. After a while of winding this way and that through a woody forest and criss crossing a large hydroelectric pipe, Mally's cd had run out, our legs were burning, we had seen one too many log trucks, and we were still climbing. Glimpses of the farm fields below looked like the patchwork you see as you look out of a plane window on take off... all the blemishes fade and a myriad of greens and browns form a pattern in the distance.

The scenery began to change... the tall trees faded and small bushes and rocky crags took their place. Cool winds also greeted us and we knew that we had to be close to the top... now where 'o where is that summit sign to tell us we have reached the summit and climbed a long way? The uphill had turned to rolling hills and I kept looking for a summit sign every time we climbed another little hill, but we never did come across that mark of accomplishment. We just continued along rolling hills through barren lands of hard, rocky grounds, bare scraggily trees, and small rough bushes. We caught glimpses of two beautiful lakes that supplied the water for the hydro-power plants below... there was even a campsite along one of them, but we were too cold to stop and camp. We longed to begin our descent to warmer, greener lands below.

We never did get the satisfaction of a nice long winding downhill. We pedalled along for another 60km of hilly terrain but only dropped elevation gradually. Apparently tiers only have one face... hence they are not called mountains. Doah! The alpine landscape remained for a while and then the trees gradually gained some green on their branches and fields of sheep and cows grew in abundance... but signs of people were sparse. Aside from the occasional car passing (and often giving us a kind wave) we saw very few signs of humans. We were definitely in a rather lonely world, but it did have a sense of mystique... unlike any terrain I had ever traversed.

Shortly after 5pm and after climbing about 1100m uphill and riding for over 120km, we rolled into Bothwell eager to get off the bike, set up camp, and find some food. Bothwell was a small town built in the early/mid 1800's. It didn't have any restaurants or many amenities, but we did find a campsite and a small general store. After taking a wonderful warm shower (ahhh!), we ate and ate (mmmm!) and then fell fast asleep (despite being only meters away from an old cemetery).