Only a child’s geography would
have mountains leading to the sea in a smooth, uninterrupted, downhill flow.
We’ve been learning that for days now, but we’re a little slow on the uptake.
Day 5 hammers it in yet again.
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[Lynne at Elephant Rocks: Is It Downhill Yet?] |
Our first uphill leads to
and around Elephant Rocks, aptly named limestone lumps that stud the verdant
grassland. The area is dotted with sheep the same hue as the rocks. We have
more than 50km to ride, but there’s a relaxed feel to this, our final day.
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[Ready to leave on our final day] |
We’ve enjoyed a warming porridge for breakfast, ideal for the chill that’s
still in the air. And now we’re enjoying the scene from Elephant Rocks. Beyond
the green fields there’s plenty of snow on the grand sweep of higher hills and
mountains to the west.
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[Sheep and rocks at Elephant Rocks] |
We warm up as we puff our
way up and around the steep limestone hills. By the time we’re nearing Island
Cliff, the sheep have been replaced by cattle, which shelter beneath the
limestone escarpment. On the downhill run Tim has raced ahead, only to ride back
to us from the bottom so he can fang
down the slope again. I video his antics, including some brief airborne moments and
a few whoops of delight.
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[Cattle and limestone walls near Island Cliff] |
We pay for the fun with a
long and steady climb. I’m behind now, having stopped for a few too many photographs,
and no matter how hard I ride I can’t seem to catch up. It’s Tim’s turn to
video as I struggle up the long last climb. The van is parked tantalisingly at
the brow of a hill, and it feels as though everyone else is lined up like
barrackers on Le Tour. This feeds
both my pride and my stubborn streak. I’m not getting off and walking now!
Accompanied by Tim’s mock sports
commentary I wheeze and wobble my way to the top. At least I think it’s the top. It turns out there’s
more hill to climb yet. That’s the bad news: the good news is that Joh is
offering us a lift in Morrison for
the kilometre or two to the top. She wants us in Oamaru in reasonable shape,
and not too late!
My pride evaporates. As
soon as I’ve got my breath back and had a coffee, I’m helping the others load
bikes into the trailer. But now it’s Lynne’s turn to show a stubborn streak.
She wants to keep riding to the top, albeit with e-bike assistance, so she sets
off ahead of the van. We only catch up with her just before the (actual) top. Her
smile is almost as wide as the views we’re now getting, including glimpses of
the ocean.
Has the landscape just been
playing with us these past few days? Like some half-tamed beast, one moment
it’s growled at us, the next it’s lifted us onto its back for a better view. We’ve
certainly never been allowed to settle into complacency. But now we can
actually see our destination, and it really does look as if it’s all downhill
from here!
There are some exciting
twists and turns to negotiate first, including the dark of the Rakis Railway
Tunnel. (So that’s why we were supplied with torches!) Beyond the tunnel the
track continues to follow an old rail line, curvaceous, gently inclined and all
downhill.
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["Hi Ho!" Lynne "off to work" in the Rakis Tunnel] |
We speed down to our lunch stop near Windsor. And then a route detour
leads us to the fascinating Elderslie Estate, a grand Victorian era property
that still reflects a bit of its former glory. Some say that the famous Phar
Lap was born at the Elderslie stud, although it’s more likely that he was only
conceived here. Regardless, even if he was only here as a twinkle in his sire’s
eye, the stables have a grand-if-neglected place among the estate buildings.
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[Tim and Lynne at the derelict Elderslie Estate stables] |
We continue on past the
village of Enfield and on to the town of Weston. If it’s slightly uphill, we’re
past worrying. The land-beast has continued to be in a playful, teasing mood,
summoning up a final shower of rain to accompany us down the final few
kilometres into Oamaru. The sealed cycleway avoids the busy city outskirts,
instead taking us in via the beautiful Oamaru Gardens. Tim, Lynne and I gather
together in the gardens before processing into the city proper.
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[Nearly there! A final pause in the Oamaru Gardens] |
We cross a few
trafficked roads and ride into the old Victorian era precinct that surrounds
the Oamaru Harbour and Friendly Bay. A large picture frame on
the foreshore marks the end of the ride. After hugs and handshakes, we gather
together in the frame. A friendly passer-by snaps a group photograph, and it’s
all over. 5 days, more than 260km across the South Island, from near its high
point to this Pacific coast.
As a final gesture I walk
down to the shore of Friendly Bay and touch the water. The waves lap on the sand, small and
gently percussive. I fancy it’s the sound of the land-beast
wagging its tail.
