The next day we parted ways with the Dutch again. Maarten and Karin caught a bus to Franz Josef glacier, about half way down the West Coast, and Eric and I started riding south. The Dutch were planning to spend three nites at Franz, and we were hoping to arrive the second nite.

The first day we rode about 90k. The first half was quite flat with no scenery, and I really started regretting that we had taken the bus from Westport to Greymouth the day before. But the second half turned quite pretty. The road was still mostly flat but began curving through some low cliffs carpeted by ferns.

We were planning to camp that night in a free Department of Conservation campground. But just short of there, we stopped for some fish and chips at the first cafe we'd seen in a long time. While we were there, the cafe owner told us we shouldn't camp by the lake because someone might steal our tent, and the sandflies were biting and if that didn't get us, the pissing rain would. Of course, he conveniently had a campervan we could sleep in. He said he wasn't trying to gain our business by scaring us and I believe him. But it was a funny coincidence.

We stayed in his campervan that night, but got a few free beers for helping him and his son roll a huge pile of sodding from one place to another.

The next morning was beautiful, but by the time we finished breakfast it was raining hard. The cafe owners were hoping we'd stay on. But if you don't ride in the rain in NZ you dont' ride. So we got on our bikes and rode, rode, rode. It rained non stop. After an hour and so we were one with the rain. At times I could barely feel my fingers. The fern covered cliffs were still gorgeous, but I'm not sure that made up for the misery. Several times we got peaks out the outlines of mountains through the rain and fog, but we couldn't actually see them. Eric and I kept thinking how we were riding through gorgeous country but couldn't see it.

We arrived in Franz Josef totally wet. We settled into another backpackers. We knew the Dutch were somewhere in town too, and we checked a few places but couldn't find them. We figured they'd be around the next day too, so we pretty much retreated into our room.

The big thing to do in Franz Josef is go climbing on this huge glacier that is one of only three glaciers in a rainforest in the world. (One of the others is down the road from Franz, and the third is in Chile).

While we were riding toward Franz in the rain, Eric and I both agreed that we did not want to pay for a walk in the rain, even if it was on a glacier. (The walks cost NZ$74 for a full day, which involves hacking your way around with an ice axe, or NZ$37 for a half day, for a non-technical walk). But as we warmed up we softened up. The next morning we signed up for a half day hike.

It was fabulous. First you have to walk about 1.5k through a glacial valley--an area over which the glacier retreated a century ago. It's mostly rocks and a few little streams. Then you get up to the face of the glacier. A huge block of ice. Then you put on special ice climbing shoes with metal grips on the bottom, and hike up stairs that are carved into the glacier by the tour guides. The steps are quite steep and until you learn to trust your boots, the whole thing is quite scary. If you slip you could fall probably 10 or 20 feet down some slender chasm in the ice. I suppose it would be hard to fall. But I bet people have, because I saw all sorts of aluminum ladders stashed along the path we took.

The best part is a narrow ice tunnel near the beginning. You climb stairs, turn a corner and then you are surrounded by bluish ice. With of course very slick sides. All you can see ahead or above or beside you is ice. It's like being in a fairy tale.

We had a great time on that walk. And since we were at the end of the group, we got to stop a lot to take pictures (way too many of course). At the end we had no regrets about our walk in light rain. Actually we lucked out: it was fairly warm and dry for the first few hours, and then only slightly rainy after.

That night, we met up with Maarten and Karin again. They were staying in a tent down the road and came over to our backpackers house for dessert! (pie and ice cream from the supermarket). We had a great time. We knew that we probably wouldn't meet in NZ again, since they were going to start moving faster on their bus, and we were still planning to ride. So Eric played his horn for them (they had never heard him play during earlier meetings) and we said goodbye. We promised to try and visit in Holland.

After that things went downhill. We rode 90k south to a place called Lake Paringa, in weather that alternated between heavy rain and cold but no rain. There were hardly any places to stop so we ended up riding about 60k without any stopping at all. Then we set up camp and it rained all night.

The next morning we packed up our soggy tent and set out to ride another 90k, to a beautiful place called Haast Pass. But the weather was vile. It blew and pissed all over us, and once again, I couldn't feel my fingers.

By the time we got halfway, to the town of Haast, I was finished. With the bike ride. It was just too much like an endurance test. Coincidentally, we met some Aussie bike riders coming the other way, who had just finished riding 85k for the day, and were also sick of the cold. While we were all having coffee in Haast, a bus pulled in. I jumped up to see if it had room for me nd Eric, but it was headed north, the wrong way.

The Aussies laughed at how quickly I jumped up. But then they said they wanted to get a bus too. I told them that was the only one that day headed North. Then it was their turn to jump. They left their coffee and pizza on the table and furiously began unpacking thier bikes. Eric helped. A few minutes later they were warm and headed to hopefully warmer lands. I was jealous.

Eric and I decided to quit for the day, stay in a backpackers overnite, and get a bus to Queenstown the next day.We bought bus tickets and settled in. Of course at that very moment the clouds lifted and the sun came out. It was still windy, but had we continued, it would have been one of our first tail winds of the trip. We kicked ourselves for our bad timing.

The next day, on the bus, the good weather was even better. Suddenly we could see the mountains and valleys around us. It was splendid. The ride looked easy too--even the dreaded Haast Pass, which is only 567 meters high. We could have made that pass with no problem, and had a beautifully scenic ride to boot. We kicked ourselves for the whole bus trip about that.

next: Queenstown.

  New Zealand Main Page      World Trip