After the barbecue fire at the
Murchison campground there was a night of extremely heavy rain. When
I went to bed water was already condensing under my sleeping pad.
Within an hour the edges of the sleeping bag were damp. My solution
was to use my bivvy sack to keep myself from getting any more damp.
It was a good thought except for its unknown and very large tear and
for the fact that it actively worked to hold in my own body moisture.
By morning the rain had soaked through
the tent's ground cloth, the tent floor, and flooded over the top of
the sleeping pad. Moisture had condensed, seeped through, and was
retained in the bivy sack. It drenched my sleeping bag and got the
innermost layer of the sleeping bag liner and me completely wet. On
top of it all I was woken by water dripping through the seems of the
rain flap of the tent directly above my head. I dubbed my tent no
longer waterproof and spent several hours the next morning hanging
and drying everything. I found my camera in an inch-deep
puddle and my clothes were foolishly left in range of the flooding as
well. My computer and passport were about the only two things to
escape unscathed. The camera miraculously still works and nothing
seems to have suffered permanent damage. I have spent the last couple
weeks dreading rain.
The next night was not much better. I
pulled a muscle in my calf and it rained again. This is an excerpt
from my journal.
---------
November 27, 2014
It's to the point that I don't remember
what I have written. Today was hell. It rained at the campground and
I got wet again. Sam and Kat (UK bikers) were first to pack up. Allie
and Brent (Canadian bikers) followed. I was pretty reluctant, but
knew I'd be swimming before too long. I had a choice: backpedal half
a mile to a motel or continue onward and face the rain. I was on
autopilot when I reached the highway and I ended up mechanically
continuing on. It was pouring hard and I was riding alone. My calf
still pained me. A few miles down the road I was already cold and
drenched. I came across Maruia Springs, an oasis of cafe, motel, and
thermal pools-and it was closed for maintenance. It was still early
in the day and I figured there must be something
in the next 85 km. There was nothing. I climbed slowly and painfully
over the Lewis Pass. The rain came down in sheets and whenever a
truck passed its wake knocked even bigger droplets off the trees and
onto my head.
Climbing
higher brought colder rain. If I stopped my leg would seize and I
would shiver so I rode on. Descending the pass was not the relief it
should have been. I was cold while pedaling so creating my own wind
while sitting idle in the driving rain made my feet numb. I was glad
there was no snow at the top of the pass. I was cursing the weather
and my decision to continue on for hours. My shoes were soaked
through and I could feel water sloshing between my toes. I'd lost
sense of distance and eventually came across a road sign: Hanmer
springs 52km. That was an eternity away. I still didn't stop. I know
enough about hypothermia to not get chilled. Eventually, after I
would guess 35 miles from the start of the day the rain began to let
up. Finally the sun showed through the rain. It was still cold, but
at least it had stopped raining. After a while I caught up with Sam
and Kat. We passed each other a few times then they finally pulled
ahead. Once I had descended far enough into the valley I warmed up
and dried out. When I felt warm enough I eventually stopped to rest.
I ate an entire can of fruit and stood on a cliffs edge overlooking
the entire valley. It looked like home.
Finally
at Hanmer hot springs I checked into Rosie's B&B, dried out all
my equipment, ate, showered, and watched Shrek III.
At
night I slept warm and realized I left my toothbrush bag sitting on a
toilet paper dispenser in a bathroom at the RV park in Murchison.
Fuck today.
---------
After
my day in hell everything has been relatively easy. Come wind, rain,
or dive-bombing birds, after a day of such misery nothing is quite as
bad. I made it to the coast and spent a few days in Kaikoura. I saw
seals and seabirds and spent quite a bit of time wandering the
beaches looking at shells and dead jelly fish. From there it was just
a few days to Christchurch. Once I got to Amberley, a town an easy
day's ride from Christchurch, I decided to take the Scenic Highway
south. About eight hours later I knocked on the front door of the
first house I had seen in six hours and asked for directions. I found
that I took one wrong turn off the Scenic Highway and ended up on a
remote gravel road heading back north into the mountains. (Kari stop
laughing.) Fortunately the road connected back to the highway system
and I spent the night in a B&B 20 kilometers north of where I had
started. The next day I rode through Amberley again and hoped that no
one recognized me from the day before. I stuck to the main highway
and made it all the way to Christchurch.
So
here I am, ending another bicycle adventure. I have had a lot of time
to think about where I want to bike next. I have a few ideas, but
none of them concrete. I will pack up the “Hulk” and bring him
home with me and there we will plot our next trip. From here I am
headed to Australia for about a month. The weather will keep me from
doing too much on the wheels, but there are plenty of other things to
do in the land Down Under!
