Kiwi land!

You'll notice a big gap in these entries.  We were gone to the South Island of New Zealand for just short of the entire month of February, but figured we shouldn't make that widely known, or people might break in to the house and steal something valuable, like, uh, the TV (no, 15 years old, small), the computers (uh, uh, 14 and 9 years old, slow), the stereo (no, 15 years old, crummy), jewelry (nope), cash (joke), credit cards (had them with us, used them too much).  OK, so we probably didn't need to be so careful.  I guess we were just having too much fun to write.

In 2011, we came close to going to New Zealand, but just didn't feel right about it.  We would have landed at 6:30 AM in Christchurch, and the deadly earthquake struck at 12:51 AM, about six hours later.

No such feelings this time.  We got there on Paula's __th birthday, February 5th, and rode our bikes around the South Island, starting in Christchurch and going down the west coast.

Each day we'd get up, put on the usual weird cyclist clothing dictated by the day's expected weather, eat a huge breakfast, hustle our luggage out to the van, and head out on the road.  By the way, that's one of the guides photo-bombing Paula.

We cycled between 30 and 84 miles each day, stopping along the way at a café or for a picnic lunch if we were in the sticks.

There are said to be about ten sheep in New Zealand for every human, but I lost count.

The accommodations at the end of each day were always good, at times the best in a small town, or in a few cases, the only accommodations in town.

Classy to the max, we took advantage of the occasional washing machine, and some cord for the dryer.

In truth, that night was our favorite, in a humble cabin in the middle of nowhere, on a high plain among big mountains.  It was absolutely silent.  We stepped out to see more stars that I thought existed, and then slept soundly under the drying underwear.

At the same place, we took a jet boat ride up a small river to near a glacier-topped mountain peak.  The boat was piloted by a former farmer, who admitted that it took him a while to be able to say much to the tourists, but not long to learn how to scare them in the boat.

We stayed in several towns on the west coast that were snug up against glaciers, with helicopters ferrying the tourists up and down.

One morning we awoke to a clear view of Aoraki/Mt. Cook (on the right) from the motel, before the rain set in for the day.

Much of the riding was nothing short of spectacular.  The traffic wasn't bad at all, despite it being Chinese New Year, meaning there were poorly-piloted camper vans careening about.

Like I said, spectacular, even in the rain.  Look closely, and you'll get an idea of scale by noting the bus on the road in the distance.  It's the teeny dark thing.

We actually did two cycling tours, one from Christchurch down the west coast to Queenstown, then Queenstown to Christchurch up the east coast.  During the gap between, we took a bus ride to Fiordland National Park, and a boat down Milford Sound.  Again, otherworldly, perhaps even more so because of the rain and wind.

There were several epic climbs over mountain passes through the Southern Alps, including one with 17% gradients.  If this were a video, you'd note that my arms and legs are shaking.

It was times like those that one wished for an energy source other than one's legs.

I know you get to see the same things from behind the wheel of a car, but it's different on a bike.

There were some pretty funny moments along the way, like the time we were invaded by ducks.

 Or the time the kiwi guide got Paula to swim in the coldest water I've ever dove in to.

During the two-day gap in Queenstown, we wandered around town, and learned that the city deserves it's reputation as The Adrenaline Capital of the World.  Bungy jumping was actually invented here.  Every other store front was either a purveyor of various activities, or selling outdoor gear to participate in them.

We thought the gondola ride up the mountain was for sissies (with high credit limits) and so we hiked up.

The ride up the east coast went to the very bottom of the island, then swung north.  In North Carolina, a southerly breeze brings warm, moist air.  In New Zealand, a southerly "breeze" comes straight from Antarctica (check your map), and though not represented in the photos, there were several days of strong wind and rain.

However, there were also some gorgeous days...with wind.

The coast line was obviously constructed by the New Zealanders for the tourists and their cameras.  That's a fur seal on the rock in the foreground of the first photo.

Beautiful, no?  Did I mention the wind?  

Oh, and the climbs.  Did I mention the climbs?

Last day on the road, last climb.  That's why she's smiling, folks.

Arriving back in Christchurch, we had a couple of days to let our heart rates return to normal.  We lucked in to an Air BnB on the beach to the east of town, with great kiwi hosts.

Doesn't every Air BnB have a lap pool and sauna?  No?

We took some nice strolls on the beach.  However, just because February 26th is equivalent to August 26th in the Northern Hemisphere doesn't mean it's not cold in Christchurch.  

In the end, a truly great trip.  Now, a big challenge is going to be eating normally, remembering that we're not on the bikes every day.

We hope that all your winds are tailwinds, and that your water is warmer.

Dave & Paula