OFFICIAL WORLD WANDERER STATIONERY

April 2, 1996

Rangataua Forest, New Zealand to Geehi Camp Ground Snowy Mountains Australia

Hello World Wanderer followers.

Yes, we're still out wandering , but as time goes by seems we are getting more spread out. I've finished my tour of New Zealand and am cycling up the east coast of Australia now. Today staying in a campground nestled in the Geehi Valley of the Snowy Mountains National Park. One minute it's dark and gray out, the next it's bright and sunny. I'm waiting for a low pressure front to clear out, it is supposed to be gone tomorrow. Hope to have a high pressure clear skies for the climb up the south west flank of Mt. Kosciusko, the highest mountain in Australia. I'll be biking up a road called the Alpine way which leads to Tredbo, a ski village, which by the way has a web page if you'd like to book accommodations; it's URL is http://www.threadbo.com.au/ski.web. The Snowy Mountains made famous by "The Man from Snowy River" story is part of the Southern Alps of Australia, and "The Great Dividing Range" that runs up and down the east coast of Australia.

I can see since my last entry I've filled up two journal booklets, #13 and #14 for the trip. I'll have to just bring out the highlights to keep this from getting too lengthy. First a summary of my route, then the highlights.

From where I last wrote, The Rangatua Forest in the central part of the North Island of New Zealand I cycled quickly down to Wellington to catch a ferry to Picton on the North tip of the South Island. Many people had told me the south island is the place to see and I was anxious to get there. From Picton cycled inland into the mountains to the Nelson Lakes Area through St. Arnaud, Murchison and Springs Junction. Then headed south east towards Christ Church. Skirted around it to the west and back up into the rural areas. I'd met a couple who lived south of Christ Church who were tandem cyclists. They said I've got to see Mt. Cook, and do the ride out to Milford Sound, the most awesome ride in New Zealand...if not the world. Wow! With that recommendation I planned a route that would skip the Dunedin area which I'd heard a lot about, skip the Southern tip and Stewart Island which is also much talked about, and take in Mt. Cook and Milford Sound. The new route took me through the towns Mt. Hutt, Geraldine, Fairlie, Tekapo, to Mt. Cook, The Hermitage, through Twizel, Cromwell and Queenstown. From Queenstown it was an out and back to Milford Sound past the "Remarkables", a mountain range that is just as the name implies, down towards Lumsden west to TeAnau then north to Milford Sound. Spent the 1 year anniversary of the beginning of the trip at Milford Sound. Even splurged, had a hot shower....then another, and bought a carrot cake dessert in the lounge. Back over to TeAnau then took a short cut to Queenstown. The shortcut involved 50 miles of gravel road through some wide open unfenced pasture land...and wild unsettled country to a sheep station on the southern boarder of Lake Wakatipu, then an antique steamship ferry ride across Lake Wakatipu to the North Shore of Queensland. Took another short cut from Queenstown north to Wanaka over New Zealand's highest main road which included about 25 miles of gravel surface. The two short cuts saved about 75 miles. Well worth it and quite adventurous. From Wanaka over Haast pass to the town of Haast on the South Island west coast. This place has got to be the sand fly capital of the world: tiny black flies that bite....But not like mosquitoes, I found out. They don't bite through licra tights (ah, some relief). Up the west coast past Fox Glacier, and Franz Joseph Glacier to Hokitika then back over the Islands spine through Arthur's Pass and Porters Pass to Christ Church for the flight to Melbourne Australia.

Hadn't seen or heard from any of my travel companions since the split up in Mercury Bay New Zealand till I was coming back from Milford Sound. At a resting shelter near Homer Tunnel ran into 3 cyclists from North Carolina who said they had met Ole and Regena, and passed them several times. They had come down the west coast by the glaciers first and thus were doing a similar loop but in the opposite direction than I. They had heard about Charles and Lisa from North Carolina but had not met them. The boys were doing a tramp which is what the New Zealanders call a hike. They'd left their bikes in Queenstown, got a bus ride to the shelter and were to be picked up in a couple of days. A popular way to see New Zealand, I met many people cycling sections, bussing to get to other sections, staying at backpackers (cheap, with 4 to 6 beds to a room) and doing some tramps. I stuck with cycling, otherwise the options get overwhelming....and expensive.

Met Ole and Regena at the Christ Church airport for our flight to Melbourne Australia. Charles and Lisa had changed their flight to be a couple days later cause Lisa had formed a cyst on her bottom and needed medical treatment (surgically removed, I believe). So Charles and Lisa caught up with us at a campground outside Melbourne. They'd have to stay for a few days while Lisa healed. They have a trailer now. Cute little thing, has plastic 16 inch BMX wheels. Expect to see a happy bouncy little kid in it, but there's just camping gear. They said everybody wants to see the kid. We spent an evening swapping stories then the three of us, Ole, Regena and myself headed out to do Australia. No one has seen or heard from Helen so chances are she's decided to start making her own agenda. Charles and Lisa had run into Liz. She's planning to do Australia - Cairns to Melbourne while our airline tickets are set up such that we ride Melbourne to Cairns getting closer to the equator as the southern hemisphere winter approaches.

I was wondering how Ole and Regena were getting along. They are very opposite people in many respects. Well, I found out as we were setting up tents in Melbourne, opposites attract. They'd become a couple. Regena confided to me. "John, there's been a development". She then proceeded to set up her sleeping gear and overnight stuff in Ole's tent. Well, I guess that answers how they've been getting along. This also explains the extra spring in Ole's step. It's been obvious since about the first week of the trip he showed a special interest in Regina, and he's been quietly pursuing her for quite some time.

So it was the new couple and myself that set out to ride to Sydney then decide if we wanted to continue together. Ole and Regena were much nicer to me than they had been in New Zealand and tried to include me in more of the planning. Not knowing if I'd see them or not in Christ Church, I bought an Australia lonely planet guide book and was preparing to be self sufficient. I really dislike guide books. They seem to take some of the thrill of adventure and discovery out of it for me, but for getting around in an unfamiliar big city in a foreign country, I have to admit, they are a lifesaver.

Regena wanted to go south first to Phillip Island to see the fairy Penguins, then further south to see Wilsons Promatory. I wanted to head north into the mountains. Ole didn't seem to care. So we compromised and did both, first south to Wilsons Promatory to spend a day at Tidal River. (We skipped Phillip Island after finding out it's a tourist trap with loads of busses and bleachers to sit on to watch the little penguins. Three days ride to Tidal River. One day there, and one day out towards the capitol Cannberra, I could see I was feeling antsy about being on a shared schedule again. I also felt a little like a third wheel with a sort of newlywed couple. We'd camped with permission behind a hay barn. Regena had gone over to the milking barn to take up our host on their invitation to watch the morning cow milking operation. She came back to announce that we were all invited to breakfast. I wanted to get down the road, I felt staying for breakfast would delay us getting to the mountains and on our northerly track. So, I announced that I'd like to push on. Ole was enthusiastic about my desire and agreed quickly. So he and Regena stayed for breakfast and I pushed on excited about being in the mountains again. That was March 26th. So I'm off on my own again for six days so far. I'll leave a message for them at the Canberra American Express office to tell them of my future plans, then another at the Sydney office.

After looking at a calendar and a map I see that 1/4 of my time in Australia is almost up and I'm only 1/8th of the way to Cairns. Already I've got miles to make up. I'm in the Snowy Mountains now. Rode here via Sassafras Gap, a name I liked when I saw it on the map. Now it's up to Thredbo down to Looma and off to Sydney. Want to see Sydney a little, see if any Aussie 18 sailboats are racing, also need to do some shopping and pick up mail. I've arranged to have my Christ Church mail forwarded to Sydney. After that I plan to go up into the Blue Mountains then hightail it north to have some time at the Great Barrier Reef.

Tomorrow I'll turn over 13,000 miles. I'm starting to meet people who when I describe the trip and the distance I've bicycled they say "Wow, I don't even drive a car that far in a year"...I like that! Since I've been traveling alone, I found I've been involved in lots more conversations with local people. I feel like the trip is becoming much more my own rather than one I went on, that someone else planned and routed. I'm grateful for all the others who I've ridden with. I certainly would not have made it this far without them.

Sorry, couldn't help but throw some of the highlights into the route section. But wait, there's more!!

Here's the Highlights....

Back on New Zealand's north Island, stopped at the N. Z. Army Museum in the town of Waiouru. Had fire arms on display from a number of different nations. Some good static theatrical displays of scenes from WWI and WWII. A video explaining N.Z. role in those wars plus Korean War and the Vietnam War. One display showed a breakdown motorcycle that fit in a parachute box. It had tiny 12 inch wheels looked like The Bike Friday (which is a folding bicycle made in Oregon) of Motorcycles. The plaque said used by parachuters to improve communications. Another display had a right hand drive U.S. military jeep. Didn't know they made right hand drive version.

Did a couple of long 75+ mile days to get down to Wellington for the ferry to the South Island. Arrived at 5:00 p.m. at the ferry terminal to check the schedule for the next day's ferries. Turned out that I was in time for a 5:30 ferry that day, so I hopped on. I'd been craving a fish and chips dinner so after cleaning up in the ferry boat's restroom and putting on clean clothes went to the dining section and satisfied my craving. Apparently, Americans are odd in their habit of putting lots of catsup on their french fries. I got the funniest stares from the counter boy when I grabbed a handful of tomato sauce packets.

In Picton found out there is a New Zealand chapter of the Hells Angels Harley Davidson motorcycle club. They had been on the ferry too and were checking into the cabins at the campground I stayed at. The image was complete. Long hair, tattoos, leather jackets and vests, seedy looking women, and of course loud Harley Davidson motorcycles.

Took a rest day in Picton, had a bike shop replace my head set. It was really bad. The detents as you turned the handlebars were starting to make the bike hard to steer. Starting to get dangerous I thought. This shop, a low end bike shop, let me loosen all the brake and shifter cables in a way the adjustment doesn't need to be reset. I removed the handle bars and the fork. They were impressed with how precisely I knew what to do to get all the cables loose and out of the way. I explained I had to do that every time I packed the bike for an airplane ride...and there were getting to be quite a few airplane rides behind me. The guy tapped out the races of the old head set and tapped in the new ones. They didn't seat immediately and he had a bit of trouble adjusting the bearing clearance of the assembled unit until he finally got in just right. Put back the handle bars and cables and all set. Total charge, 25 New Zealand dollars, very cheap!

Next morning packed up and headed out but first a stop in the Harbor to see an Authentic replica of Capt. Cook's ship, the ENDEAVOUR. Built in Australia for the Australian bicentennial celebration at a cost of 19 million U.S. dollars. Now sailing around to ports in New Zealand. A plaque set out front on the dock explained it's authentic in every respect except for the twin diesels in the hold and the "twentieth century deck" above the hold which has a modern kitchen and seawater toilets. A remarkable looking vessel. Looks like a wooden box with sails. Not much streamlining in the hull. Built for strength and payload.

Just 20 miles down the road I felt a thump thump thump in my back tire. I stop and find a big sideways wave in the tire. I'd just had my cheap front tire give out a few days before, now the cheap back one was giving out. They both had plenty of rubber left on them, but the cords inside the tire started tearing, and separating at the contact point with the road. These were the tires I'd bought in Athens, Greece, the best ones I could find.- US$8.00 front tire and US$12.00 rear tire - mountain bike road slicks. Got 3,005 miles on the front and 3,185 miles on the rear, guess I got my money's worth. Put on the Avocett cross tires 26 x 1.95 I'd been carrying since Washington D.C. Still have one continental top tour tire I'm carrying as a spare too. This is good to be lightening up my load by using the spares. Down to 2 spare tubes now from four.

In St. Arnoud on Valentine's Day. Met a cycling couple on a tandem. They were waiting for another tandem couple who was traveling with them to return from Nelson with a new rear wheel. Ah, the broken rear wheel syndrome, I know it well, I thought. They invited me for coffee at the bed and breakfast they were staying, but I declined. Even though it was rainy out I needed to get in the miles. In New Zealand I became very conscious of getting in the miles. I'd chosen a route which required 45 miles per day, everyday. That doesn't sound like a lot but when you're shopping, fixing your own meals, camping wild, trying to see a few things along the way, and riding a heavy bike through hilly country it has required almost all my energy.

Down through the Buller River Valley, a wild fast river, wide gravel washes where the waters only flows though one fifth or one tenth of the total width. The water is moving. I clock it at 15 mph as I coast along side. While stopped I could sometimes hear the gravel moving by the force of the water.

Ah, the little tiny flies that bite. New Zealand is famous for them. I read in a DOC (Department of Conservation) pamphlet that only the females bite, well that's comforting!

The Victoria range to my right. Glorious jagged mountains. Can see how they are all pushed up on end. Road cuts show the layers of sediment at almost vertical angles. Other road cuts expose smooth river rock suspended in dirt and what was probably mud or maybe layers of ash. Very interesting geologically.

Skirting Christ Church I came across miles and miles of what look to me like what I'd call "store bought farms". Each farm neatly kept and fenced. These aren't working farms I think, these are getaway farms. People that work in the city but want to live on a farm. The fences aren't made from whatever material is available like on a working farm. Each fence post here is neatly turned on a lathe, treated then put precisely into the ground with a plumb bob. These are professionally built fences, one has a sign says "Hurricane Fencin" all very nice, all very quaint, very orderly but not good for someone looking for a place to camp wild. I think I'll have to ask tonight. I check the map and see a D.O.C. campground. Ah, I'll go there but it'll be a 75 mile day. At 80 miles I still have three miles to go. I misjudged. At 82 miles I see a good low profile spot. Looks like a high traffic area but I'll take a chance. I got setup, cooked dinner and am wandering around looking out at the view eating my 1 1/2 qt. dinner out of my 6 qt. pot when a big dog comes up on me from behind. He's actually friendly, interested more in my dinner than me. Behind him a slim middle aged woman with a big diamond on her left hand walks up. I share with her that I'm traveling by bicycle. I've just ridden 130 kilometers and I've set my tent up down the way a little bit. She says, "Well, there's a campground not far up the road." That's what I was looking for, I'd given up on finding it. "Oh, it's just a little further up the road and it's much nicer that this. There's grass, toilets, and a tap." I find out it's not her land and she says I shouldn't be on it. I don't ask why it's okay for her to be on it, but decide the right thing to do is to pack up and move to the campground. Pack and unpack, I do a lot of that. She was right, it's a really nice place. Has a wonderful view of the Canterbury Plains Area. I set up in a secluded spot. Some High School age boys walk by. They stop to talk a bit. They are smoking cigarettes and getting drunk but don't seem mischievous. I had trouble understanding their quick speech, between their New Zealand accent and my poor hearing I had to use a lot of "huh's" and "say again please". They seemed awed by my travels and after a bit went off on their way.

My new front fork headset loosened up several times. I just kept tightening and readjusting it. The races are continuing to seat. The stack height of the new headset is less than the old. I find I can't get it tight enough. The lock nut screws all the way to the top of the fork. A day later I find a washer on the road side just the right size. Thank you God I say to myself. A week or so later the lock nut is still tight but the bearing is loose. More seating. Again, the lock nut screws down all the way to the top of the fork when I try to adjust it. I need another washer. I fashion a washer out of bailing wire I'm carrying, shape it like a flat spiral rug with a big hole in the middle, install it and I'm good to go again. Couple weeks later still holding it's adjustment I find another washer. This is incredible luck. I stash it away in my pannier for future use.

Back in Auckland I'd gotten a letter from my old work and Hobie Cat buddy, Al Zimmerman. He and his wife, Alison, are planning a tandem biking vacation in New Zealand and want to meet up with my group. Well, my group is just me now, but I'd love to see them, only hitch is our schedules don't quite match. He flies into Christ Church a week after I pass by the first time, then he flies out a week after I do. I figure for this to work one of us would have to train to catch up to the other. He's got a contact person for me to call in Christ Church which I do and leave my itinerary. We'll see what happens.

Lots of touring cyclist on the South Island I see many young couples on mountain bikes with rear panniers sleeping bag and a handle bar bag on stock mountain bikes. Typically he's in front and she's drafting him. Gets to be so many cyclist I don't stop to talk to them anymore, just wave or you'd never get anywhere. Did stop to talk to one Swiss guy. He was on a break between school and work. He was proud that in Switzerland there are four languages that are used regularly so he can speak a little of each Swiss, German, English, and French. I like the way he described the number of sheep on the islands, when talking routes. I'd mentioned I was thinking of going down to Dunedin, he said it's not very good, "very boring, there is nothing but sheeps".

Most riders have much less gear than I do. They stay at backpackers and some campout. One said they always sleep in the TV lounge if it rains when they are camping. There is no TV lounge when you camp wild I think to myself. No wonder I have more gear. I'm prepared for a lot more severe conditions than they are. One fellow going my direction rode along with me on the flat and we talked for awhile, but as soon as we hit a hill he was gone. I had to gear down, he just peddled right up. Met the same guy a couple weeks later at TeAnau. He said he was thinking he might have to cut his trip short cause he was running out of money. "I should be camping wild like you, sure would be a lot cheaper." Well, cheap isn't everything. He's having a wonderful experience staying in Backpackers meeting lots of other travelers and hearing first hand from others what's good to see and what's not. He said he's got a date with the counter girl at the Hire (rental) place he went to get the equipment for the tramp he's going on.

I was astounded when I actually met a local New Zealander touring cyclist. He said he'd been up to Mt. Cook didn't see any places to "Freedom Camp" in that area. He was headed to Geraldene, where I'd just come from. Told him I'd camped behind a community lodge the night before and got soaked as the rain brought the water level above ground around my tent. My tent floor is no longer water proof so I got very wet. Sounded like he'd try to camp at the same place, "probably won't rain tonight" he said. Well he was wrong on both accounts. I went over Burks pass - got rained on while riding. It was cold out. Rigged up my bike cover over the entrance to my tent to form a cooking porch. I needed to cook something, I had to have something hot to eat, I was really cold. Woke up in the morning and there was snow in the hills around maybe 200 vertical feet above my camp. Sun was out and shining through, it warmed up fast. Gave wonderful views of Mt. Cook and mountains around. Rode past Lake Tekapo and saw "The Church of the Good Shepherd", a small stone church on the shore of the lake. The congregation faces a glass wall which overlooks the lake and surrounding mountains. Very beautiful but a tourist trap. Bus loads of Oriental tourists some taking more interest in me than the church. Several asked to take my picture, of course I obliged.

Mt. Cook is a 55 km side trip off the main road one way. I'd gotten only 15 km up the road before it was time to camp. At first I was thinking the local guy was right. No place to "Freedom camp" but then a bunch of opportunities appeared. Next morning was gloriously clear and sunny, excellent views of the Mt. Cook Peak as I approach from the south along the shore of Lake Pukaki. Just gorgeous views of the snow covered New Zealand southern Alps around with Lake Pukaki to my right. Stopped at a view point turn out - took a picture of a tour bus and it's occupants with the mountain in the back. Lot's of tour busses on this route, got a picture just so I could remember them. Most tourists only get to see the tip of Mt. Cook or the bottom, due to clouds. I felt quite fortunate to get to see the entire grand view. Mt. Cook Village is only at 768 meters so you still have to bend the neck a little to see the Mt. Cook Summit at 3754 meters. At the Hermitage, a fancy hotel and restaurant, found a good view of the top of Mt. Cook, the base is obscured though. Got an excellent view of Huddleston Glacier which at this time of year is a panorama of rock falls, ice falls, and parting crevasses. I ate lunch on a nice lawn area with a view in front of the Hermitage. Watched the shadows of high clouds flow across the mountain and the line of tour busses go by. Was asked two more times if I'd mind having my picture taken. An elderly lady said "I want to show how I didn't tour New Zealand."

Next came the long haul down to Cromwell, over to Queesntown then to TeAnau and finally over the mountains to Milford Sound. First town out of Twizel was Omarama. I arrived there with a fellow named Bob Riggs. He's 56 years old retired from JPL in Pasadena and has relocated to Bend, Oregon. He doesn't like to ski, so this winter he went to Australia to visit his daughter. Did an organized week long bike ride there, said he had a blast cause Australians are fun people and not into the restrictive rules you find in the U.S. He likes to ride fast. Used to race bicycles, surprised me that he tolerated my slow pace. He wanted to talk and was very interested in how to do a trip like I was doing. We stopped at Omarama. Me to get groceries and water, him to stop early at a campground to hit Lindis Pass early in the morning. He showed me a neat little book called "A New Zealand cycle Touring Guide, Peddlers Paradise, South Island" - had charts of elevation profiles of all the roads on the South Island. I immediately wanted to look up some of the places I'd been to compare with some places I was planning to go. Also had a brief description of each town along the way and what was available there, sort of like the Adventure cycling maps in the U.S. When he couldn't convince me to stay the night at Omarama, he gave me the book as a gift, I promised I'd come to Bend after the trip and tell him all about it. We'll ride Century Drive together. I've wanted to do that for quite some time but never worked it into my activities.

Queenstown a real tourist town lots of shops and many places to book your recreational plans. One pamphlet I read said it's a place where experts in all types of recreation can help you drain your pockets. Rafting, helicopter rides, bungie jumping, parasailing, tandem parachuting just a few of the sports available. Was overcast and cold when I arrived, a few hot air balloons hovered over the town close to a steep hillside. I'd camped in a paddock (pasture) not far from town so it was still early morning when I arrived. Found a new can opener at one of the sporting good shops. The one I got in India was giving up the ghost. Got some sweets from a Bakery, checked out the Department of Conservation info. center, grocery shopped, looked around town briefly then headed out on my way. Hit about the worst head winds of the trip so far between Queenstown and TeAnau. Ah, this will be sweet when I go back I thought. Padded the handle bars by wrapping towels around them then rested my forearms on the pads hold on with my hands to the sleeping bag bungied to the top of the front rack and sliced the headwinds racer style. I could only stay in that position for about five miles but it made an amazing difference. I could maintain 10-11 mph into the wind where otherwise I'd be only be doing 7-8 mph. A few days later noticed that even with the towel padding my forearms were bruised.

TeAnau, another tourist town but not to the scale as Queenstown. The grocery store had all kinds of wonderful hiker snacks for people stocking up for their tramps. Most popular tramps are around this area. The town has a pretty setting on the shore of Lake TeAnau, one of many glacier carved lakes.

The ride from outside of TeAnau to Milford Sound and back I thought to be probably one of the most scenic and exciting rides I've ever done. After passing through more pasture land, steep rock walls form around, you follow a river plain into the classic steep walled "U" shaped valleys of glacier country. It seemed to wind from valley to valley. Some wonderful lowlands and incredible views of long cirques, of multi-chain water falls, narrow white streams against steep hard black walls. Then comes the big climb, took me about 3 hours, nice views though. At the summit is Homers Tunnel. Started in 1937 the first truck drove through in 1940 but it was not completed for real traffic till 1956. The peddlers paradise book says "Beware, the Homer Tunnel is a narrow 1.2 km of unsealed, unlit, and unlined one-way blackness with a 10 percent gradient downwards towards Milford Sound." Naturally I had a little apprehension about going through this but it didn't say you couldn't. Besides I had lights for my bike, and a flashlight. It had been sunny but chilly on the way up, sometimes threatening looking clouds appeared. Got to the tunnel and stopped to rest, eat, bundle up (looked cold in that dark hole called a tunnel) took pictures and got out the lights and the LED flasher for the rear. And the 3.4 watt cateye handle bar mount with two brand new C size batteries and my mini maglite AA flash light. Tested all lights. Yep, they're all maximum brightness. Clean the dust off the reflectors and pannier reflective striping and I'm all set. Mount up wait for clear traffic and go. Once inside found that my bright lights were a mere dim glow in the light absorbing wet dampness of the black cave. All I could really see was there was a path in the darkness and a big gutter to my left (ride on the left side in New Zealand). I could barely make out the tunnel wall and just stayed 6-8 feet from it and coasted through at 10-15 mph. Riding the brakes. And yes it was cold inside. Part way through I heard a rumble enter the tunnel. Traffic from behind. Two cars past. Their headlights really lit up the tunnel. A third followed me the remaining distance. Wow, I could really see. Then before I knew it, I was out. Was bright and sunny on the other side. Could see the road wind steeply down into a valley ahead of me. Looked like the first two switch backs were much greater than 10% grade. As I stopped for more pictures another cyclist came through, a Dutch guy. For light, he had only a mini maglight AA. Traveling very light, he had left a lot of his gear at a Backpackers in TeAnua was going to hire a room at the Milford Budget Lodge. He'd been a little smarter than I. He'd asked a car to follow him through before he entered the tunnel.

All my journal says about the ride to Milford from Homer tunnel is "a halatious [sp?] downhill with more stupendous views. Glad I had time and stop and gaze at them awhile." Milford Sound is in the Fiordland National Park. The whole area is virtually undeveloped because it's next to impossible to get around. It's all steep walled glacial valleys and dense Beach Rain Forest. Many lakes, Fiords, sounds and channels carved into hard rock eons ago. Milford Sound gets about 8 meters of rain a year, compare that with Portland's 1.5 meters. Rains a lot and hard. So much rain that there is a constant layer of fresh water over the seawater of Milford Sound. Checked in at the Milford Budget lodge for a tent site. Sand flies were pretty intense but got dinner cooked and the tent up. Still hungry after dinner so went to the lodge, the Dutch guy recommended the Vegi-lasagna. I asked for that but the kitchen had already closed. The young girl sold me on a big piece of carrot cake "we're all hooked on it here" she said. Settled down in a real couch and watched the activities of the other guests of the lodge. Walked outside to see glow worms. They live in a road cut, lush with moist vegetation. Amazing to me how little creatures can generate the energy to create visible light.

Rained during the night, was glad I'd picked a high spot to put the tent. Still raining in the morning but I've got to keep moving. Packed up the tent soaking wet went down pour, one more look at the sound. A cruise ship was tied up to a dock with a long covered walkway to the road. Low clouds obscured the tops of the valley walls. A couple of helicopters and small planes sat silent in the rain at the airport. On up the hill back towards Homer tunnel. I'd already decided I was going to walk the bike through the tunnel the on the up hill direction. Too unsteady to ride a 10% grade in the dark, next to a deep gutter on what could be a slippery surface. Slow climb till the last three miles then rises pretty good. Finally there's those last two super steep switch backs. Clouds lifted a little so I could see more of the vertical walls around me. What had been tiny thread waterfalls yesterday were today wide ribbons of cascading water. Amazing to see the change, what a difference. The whole place was alive with water falls. Seeing that made it worth being out in the rain. As I got closer to the top the days train of tour busses headed to Milford started passing the other way. My goal was to get through the tunnel before they started heading back. Almost made it. Was passed by one bus walking through the tunnel. Have to have nerves of steel. As they approach you can hear a deafening rumble come at you. You're sure you're going to die, then they pass. Was hoping it would be sunny on the other side but it was raining harder. Forgot how my ceramic coated super fancy heavy duty wheels don't work so well for braking when they get really wet. Was quickly reminded when I went to slow my pace down the hill. I could stop accelerating but couldn't slow down much. After a quarter mile or so the surface started to dry off. Then I could slow a little but couldn't stop. Squeezed the brake handles till I thought something might break, no change. Down the hill I went in heavy rain not really being able to stop. A mile or so down my food bag fell off the back rack. Well, I got to stop now! Put one foot down on the wet pavement. It just slid along. Put the other foot down. Now straddling the bike, both feet sliding on the wet road. No change, still not slowing. Started lifting the handle bars. Ah, now I'm slowing. Don't know what made me think of doing all that, but I finally stopped and ran back up the hill to retrieve my precious food bag.

Back in TeAnau and loading up with groceries again. Talked to another cyclist who had ridden the short cut to Queenstown by Mavora Lakes. Said it wasn't so bad with his lightly loaded bike. He did it in six hours. When he saw my heavily loaded bike he was hesitant to recommend that I go that way...but I did. Wonderful wide open unspoiled country. I had to keep moving, I had 8 hours to cover the fifty miles of dirt, gravel, and rock road. Really pushed hard and did it in seven hours then chowed down heavily while waiting that last hour for the ferry to depart across lake Wakatipu to Queenstown.

Back in Queenstown the second time, I had called the contact person for Al Zimmerman. They weren't home but a house guest answered the phone and took my message, where I was and where I planned to go. They knew about the arrangement, told me Al had called and planned to be in Queenstown in four days. I was to leave a message for him at the Alpine bike shop in Queenstown. Took awhile to find the shop. Actually had to go into "the other" bike shop in town and ask where it was. I figured that if he kept the pace that put him in Queenstown in four days he just might catch me. So I left a message detailing the route I planned and how long I figured it would take.

From Queenstown headed over the crown terrace highway to Wanaka. Another short cut, and New Zealand's highest main highway at 1121 meters. I'd already been up to 1645 meters when visiting one of the ski areas on the North Island so I knew it couldn't be too bad. Turned out to be about the toughest climb on the trip so far not because it was steep which it was, but because the last 8 k to the summit was gravel and a grader was working on it as I went through. Before the grader went through it was a bumpy but hard packed surface. After it was graded it was smooth but soft surface. My front tire would slip sideways if I turned to keep my balance. My back tire would loose traction and spin if I pushed too hard on the pedals. I ended up stopping every fifty feet to catch my breath (took lots of effort to get through the soft dirt) then ride another fifty feet. I gave friendly waves to the grader and the escort in a pickup with the "caution grader" sign but wished I'd gotten there a day sooner before they'd "improved" the road. A few cars went by and I found it was a little easier to follow their tracks. All these hills I'd been climbing lately were starting to make me feel a little spent.

Through Wanaka then another pass, Haast Pass. This one, like Lindis Pass and Burks Pass seemed like a piece of cake. Long gentle approach followed by an hour of first gear grind then it's over. Camped on the beach that night with the sandflies at shipwreck creek. I'd got a no cook dinner in Haast cause I knew the sandflies would be bad. Un rolled my tent then quickly put everything in it I'd need for the night inside. With the night stuff inside I zipped the screen so closed to minimize the entrance of sand flies. I'd covered myself with clothing all except my face and hands, had a heavy dose of Muskol, 98% Deet on that tiny amount of exposed skin I couldn't cover. The Deet kept the little buggers from landing on me for about 3 minutes but it had taken ten minutes to set camp. With the tent finally erected I could then crawl in zip the screen shut. About 200 sand flies followed me in so I spent the next hour and a half killing sand flies and eating dinner being careful not to mix the two. Had a nice little pile of sandfly carcasses when done then unrolled the sleeping pad and sleeping bag and listened to the surf on the beach as I drifted to sleep.

Didn't think I'd be too impressed with Fox and Fanz Joseph glaciers. After all, there are several glaciers in Oregon. On Mt. Hood I've skied, hiked and climbed on the glaciers there. I was amazed at my amazement. These glaciers were very impressive! The scale of the glaciers here make the ones on Mt. Hood look like a tea cup in the ocean. These are gigantic. Amazing to think they start at above 8,000 to 10,000 feet and flow almost to the ocean. At the Fox Glacier the local recreational services like the guided tours and glacier flights make a big deal about how the glacier is advancing. In the past 10 years it's advanced 1 kilometer, but on a 50 and 100 year time scale it's retreating. Hiked up as close as they allow you to come to the terminus. It's a wall of ice at least 40-50 feet tall and spans the entire valley it fills, about 2 or 3 football fields wide. ...And that's just the end of it. Climbed over a big pile of gravel to get the perfect picture noticed a thirty foot diameter sink hole in the top. Took awhile to dawn on me there was probably a giant block of ice underneath the gravel that had melted. I was probably standing on gravel that covered more ice. Looking around could see lots of rock fall areas. This was a changing, dynamic, unstable, landscape. Gave a feel for the overwhelming power of nature. We're not even pawns in the big picture!

Just two more passes then I'll be in Christ Church ready for the flight to Melbourne. I knew that Charles and Lisa had been talking about changing some of their flight times to have more time in Australia. I wondered if Ole and Regena might do the same. Wondered if they did would I ever see them again.

Arthurs Pass from west to east was a significant 3000 foot steep climb. Very narrow, an early 1900's road that had been paved but not widened or grade leveled. I'm sure some of those pitches were 15+%. I've never had to stand on the pedals in 1st gear just to make forward motion...but then I'm pretty tired too. About half of the 3000 feet climb is in 6 kilometers. Working so hard it's hard to notice there are some nice views. Porter Pass was lots easier as I approached it from the high side then had a great down hill ride.

Got to Christ Church with time to spend two days there. 5:00 a.m. of the morning of the third day the flight left. Went to the American Express office picked up a couple pieces of mail, but didn't get the mail I expected from dad with tax forms in it. Next day Friday went to visit the Air Force World Museum. Was rainy and cold out so I spent the whole day intently buried in all the tours and displays they had set up. Found the history of aviation they depicted here fascinating the whole place had a faint smell of hydraulic fluid which reminded me of every small plane I'd been in. An authentic touch...actually just hard to keep that stuff from leaking, especially in old planes and they had many on display. They had some PC based simulators that were built into mock cockpits with mock controls and gauges. One was a Sky Hawk Jet, the other a MK1 Spitfire. I got my hand at both. The Ski Hawk had a right hand joystick type control. I was able to fly it, navigate over to a target zone, then fly back, buzz the simulated city of Christ Church, but washed out on a landing attempt. It's action was lazy and predictable. The Spitfire, on the other hand, had quick action. Controlled by a floor stick between the legs and a left hand throttle control. As soon as you were off the ground the program threw in prop torque simulation. If you didn't correct and get back to level flight in 4 or 5 simulation steps you'd spin out and crash. I did that many times, kept wanting to correct the wrong way. Something about it was counter intuitive. Never did get to fly very long on that one. With the museum closing I was forced back out into the cold dampness outside. Stopped by the American Express office to check their Saturday hours only to find they were closed Saturday. Bummer, no mail for me. Today's Friday, I fly out early Sunday morning.

With a flight out at 5:00 a.m., check in at three thirty a.m. I figured I'd ride over there the Saturday afternoon, pack the bike and sleep at the airport on the floor till check in time. Got there and found that the airport closes at 10:00 p.m., only authorized people like guards and custodial people are allowed to be there. I spoke to a security guard who directed me to his boss. Explained my situation and was given an explanation of how it could work. The departure area closes at 10:00 p.m. at that time the night guard will escort you to the arrivals area which closes at 12:00 p.m., 1 hour after the last flight you can stay there till 3:30 a.m. when the departure area will open again for check in. Between 12:00 p.m. and 3:30 a.m. you'll be locked in. I said that will work for me. Then was told not to sleep on the chairs when arriving flights come in.

I was first in line at the check in at 3:30 a.m. No Ole, Regina, Charles or Lisa around. Just as I was finished checking in, (lucked out, no overweight charges again! They allowed 32 kilos. My bundle was 12.7 kilos and they couldn't get the bike on the scale) Al Zimmerman and his wife Alison showed up. They were all bundled up after having ridden to the airport from town to see me. I was so astonished to see them. I'd given up hope long ago. After a couple big hugs we started exchanging route and time info. Where I was when, and where they were. As we were doing that a van with a trailer pulled up. Lots of people got out including Ole and Regena. After a little greeting Ole said it was well worth the $9.00 for the van ride to the airport which I thought out of character for him. Normally he'd rather cut off a finger than pay a large amount for a short ride in a car. He and Regena were acting strange too. They were being unusually sharing and spoke with one another with an understanding cooperation I hadn't seen before. They even sat together on the plane. Regena always sits by herself in an isle seat, unless she can get a first class upgrade to a window seat.

It was so touching to see Al and Alison. Their tenacity to find me was overwhelming. Sad that our time to share experiences was so short. They had seen Charles and Lisa twice, and run into Ole and Regena a few times too. "Where's John" they kept asking, and where's everybody else? ...Well we're getting pretty spread out. Both Ole and Charles remarked later that they were very impressed by Al and Alison, really good kids Ole said. I had to agree which again made me feel bad for not putting more effort into finding them.

In Melbourne after I'd been told of "the development", I thought, "Well, the rest of the trip is yours, John. Better start planning what you want to do." Then an amazing thing happened, Ole and Regena laid out the map with me and started talking. They were including me. Wow.

As I described before we traveled together for several days. Being in Australia feels very much like being home. A few differences. People talk funny and they think I'm from Canada. They drive on the left, and the wildlife and vegetation is different. So far I've seen lots of kangaroos, some Emu, a giant flightless bird, white birds that look like parrots, fly very well and have a call that allows one bird to sound like ten. When three or four of them around it feels threatening. Saw a spiny echidna which is an ant eater, with a long pointy snout. Saw a road kill wombat, hope still to see a live one. There are so many different kinds of eucalyptus trees around here. Different species grow at different altitudes and wetness conditions. The flaky bark one reminds me of growing up in S. California. Out along Foothill Blvd (on Route 66) in Claremont and up in the hills behind the fairgrounds in Pomona. Found out that Sassafras is a tree with a nutmeg scent. I'd smelled a soft scent I couldn't identify while climbing to Sassafras gap. The eucalyptus trees are called gum trees here, there's a dying logging business around them. There's the peppermint gum, Manna gum, the Eurabbie Blue gum etc., etc.

Just after passing through Sassafras Gap, thought I'd start going down, but the gravel road kept climbing. I'd been told it was a 5000 ft pass. The Sassafras Gap sign says 1295 meters, about 4200 feet. Still had another 800 feet to go. The rain which had been off and on all day ceased, but the sky started getting dark. It's only 4:30 usually doesn't get dark till 7:30 here. Heard thunder...Oh no...I'm in for a thunder shower. then started noticing lightning. After another 10 minutes the thunder was only 2 seconds behind the lightning. Decided the best thing to do was to just keep going. Eventually I'll be at the top then start heading down where it'll be safer ground. Another ten minutes and the rain is imminent. I'd been wearing my rain parka as a cape over my helmet and shoulders so I'd stay somewhat dry in the rain, but still ventilate well, it hadn't been too cold out and this arrangement felt pretty comfortable. The thunder told me a hard rain was eminent. I stopped, put on the parka on properly, added rain pants and zipped up. Temperature dropped about 15 degrees F. and rain started pelting down. Then I notice I was getting hit with hail 1/4" round balls. Stung as they hit the back of my hands. Watched them pile up an inch deep in the crevices of the gear on the front rack. I kept riding. The gravel road was turning into three distinct rivers of water. Hard rain continued, lightning, and thunder joined in for fifteen minutes. I rode close to the side with trees well above me to be in their cone of shelter from the lightning. Pretty exciting and scary. I hadn't noticed I was coasting down hill by the time the storm passed. Everything was just drenched. Standing and flowing water everywhere. I'd be soaked from the bottom up if I tried to set my tent anywhere. Thought of a couple corny jokes. I didn't know if I should pedal or swim and started singing like crazy cause when lightning hit I wanted to be in the choir, not the conductor. As I coasted down hill the land dried out, the rivers in the road retreated and the air temp warmed up. Arrived at the beginning of the paved road and a picnic area/campground down around 1000 feet elevation at 7:00 p.m. Quickly set up a camp and started dinner, more thunder. Oh no, another thunder storm. Set the bike cover up as a tent porch (vestibule) again and continued cooking from inside. This storm wasn't near as severe, and I was in a high, well drained spot. I hardly noticed when it had passed.

Stopped in the town of Khancoban [sp?] to get groceries and check out the Snowy Mountains National Park Information Center. I'd already come through the town of Curryong where Jim Riley, "The Man from Snowy River" is buried. Learning lots about the area. I'm in my second state in Australia already. Melbourne is in the state of Victoria. Now I'm in the state of New South Wales, my third and last state will be Queensland. The Snowy Mountains are part of "the great dividing range" which runs up the east coast of Australia. Mt. Kosciusko at 2228 meters is the highest in the range. I haven't got to see it yet cause of clouds, hopefully when I ride to within 1000 feet of the summit tomorrow it will be clear. The Snowy Mountains have been home to Aboriginal tribes during summer, seen European exploration, cattle grazing, skiing, tourism and the Snowy Mountain Hydro Electric scheme. A video at the information center described the Snowy Mountain scheme as the largest project under taken in Australia. They even started an immigration campaign to get the 100,000+ people to fill all the jobs it required. The scheme collects water from the east side Snowy Mountain snow melt redirects it through pipes through the mountains to the dryer west side for irrigation, and uses it for electricity generation on the way. Was all done in the 1950's. Interesting to see. Giant white pipes come out of the mountain on the west side go down to a power house which has a multitude of high tension transmission lines coming out and mark a ribbon path across the landscape to the west.

This morning when I got up went for a little morning stroll in the valley fog. There's an abandoned air strip here and in the fog I could see probably 100 kangaroos out grazing. Just like any other animal they stretch, scratch itches, and show personality signs. One baby tries to suckle its mother, but mom pushes it away..."time for you to eat grass" I imagine she is saying. Two big Roos stand tall on their hind feet probably 6 feet tall, the tail as a third sturdy balancing leg. One pushes his tiny forearm against the other as to beg a fight. "Hey, this is my grass here. If you want to eat it you got to talk to me first." The stand off lasts quite awhile before they both go back to grazing. Couple of times though I thought I'd see a fight.

Well that's all for now. There's lots more to tell but this is long enough as it is.

Happy cycling,

John Purdy