Back in the Saddle
New Zealand!
Day 1-3
Christchurch to Ashley Gorge
I think I'm in a rushed romance (the kind that moves too fast, reaches the pinnacle far too soon, and ends in heartbreak and lonely TV dinners for one). Obviously we're talking New Zealand here. She the kind of girl everyone falls in love with, though a bit on the girthy side with huge mountains to match. Clearly too much for just one man.
You know you are in the right place for bicycle touring when the airport has a designated bicycle assembly zone. Ignoring everyone's suggest to catch the shuttle bus into town, I picked my way through a 35 minute tour of small street and attractive European style of cottages on my recently assembled cycle. I didn't see the inside of a hostel (Stonehurst Hostel - its worth checking out, Chris and Carrie take note) until 2, or the inside of my eyelids until 3, but my internal clock was still saying 11.
Tuesday was a shopping day, and I hate shopping, much like my father. And like him I question the value and necessity to spend any sort of money (though I don't have my vacation all plotted in a spreadsheet). The biggest inescapable purchase was a trailer for my cycle. Attaching to the rear axel, it holds all my gear in a waterproof duffel, though for the price I paid I would have expected a very dedicated Sherpa.
Purchases in tow, I rolled back to the hostel and spent the next 6 hours, packing, unpacking, repacking and re-unpacking. Saddling up in the morning (after repacking one more time for fun), I realized that I was missing one more vital necessity, a map case to keep track of my daily charted course.
They say necessity is the mother of invention, and if its true, then we must have done the horizontal tango the night before because I just birthed one great idea. Take an old receipt, write the daily "cue" (line by line directions with distances and turns) on the reverse. Form a paper tube around the handlebars and tape the ends together. Now you are ready to roll, and so was I, for 64 km, from Christchurch to Ashely Gorge. Only took 3.5 hours, I may not be Lance Armstong, but I'd like to see him haul a 45 lbs trailer faster than that (preferably, my trailer).
Onwards towards Arthur's Pass, Greymouth and the Southern Alps!
Day 1-3
Christchurch to Ashley Gorge
I think I'm in a rushed romance (the kind that moves too fast, reaches the pinnacle far too soon, and ends in heartbreak and lonely TV dinners for one). Obviously we're talking New Zealand here. She the kind of girl everyone falls in love with, though a bit on the girthy side with huge mountains to match. Clearly too much for just one man.
You know you are in the right place for bicycle touring when the airport has a designated bicycle assembly zone. Ignoring everyone's suggest to catch the shuttle bus into town, I picked my way through a 35 minute tour of small street and attractive European style of cottages on my recently assembled cycle. I didn't see the inside of a hostel (Stonehurst Hostel - its worth checking out, Chris and Carrie take note) until 2, or the inside of my eyelids until 3, but my internal clock was still saying 11.
Tuesday was a shopping day, and I hate shopping, much like my father. And like him I question the value and necessity to spend any sort of money (though I don't have my vacation all plotted in a spreadsheet). The biggest inescapable purchase was a trailer for my cycle. Attaching to the rear axel, it holds all my gear in a waterproof duffel, though for the price I paid I would have expected a very dedicated Sherpa.
Purchases in tow, I rolled back to the hostel and spent the next 6 hours, packing, unpacking, repacking and re-unpacking. Saddling up in the morning (after repacking one more time for fun), I realized that I was missing one more vital necessity, a map case to keep track of my daily charted course.
They say necessity is the mother of invention, and if its true, then we must have done the horizontal tango the night before because I just birthed one great idea. Take an old receipt, write the daily "cue" (line by line directions with distances and turns) on the reverse. Form a paper tube around the handlebars and tape the ends together. Now you are ready to roll, and so was I, for 64 km, from Christchurch to Ashely Gorge. Only took 3.5 hours, I may not be Lance Armstong, but I'd like to see him haul a 45 lbs trailer faster than that (preferably, my trailer).
Onwards towards Arthur's Pass, Greymouth and the Southern Alps!
posted by Vit-One at 2:00 PM
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