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BIKING (OR WALKING, OR HORSEBACK RIDING) UP TO 90 Miles of MAINTAINED roadbed
Along a historic abandoned railway across a remote region of new zealand.

THIS ARTICLE FIRST APPEARED IN AUTUMN 2011.               EXCEPT WHERE NOTED, ALL PHOTOS © HOME AT FIRST.

          An elderly American veteran I met in Switzerland some years ago bristled as I extolled the virtues and rewards of hiking the Alps. “Not for me,” he spat after I paused for a reaction. “I’ve seen all I want to see of Europe on foot fifty years ago during the Battle of Bulge.”
          I expect the old GI probably couldn’t be coaxed onto a bike for a basically flat ride across New Zealand either. Some folks see picnics. Others only see ants.
          This article preaches to picnickers who prefer their adventure-filled days to end with hot showers, good food, and soft beds. We postulate that among the more relaxing and rewarding of adventure activities for any holiday are excursions by bicycle. This article describes one of our favorite bike trips in one of our favorite vacation destinations. Included for each is some practical info: whether to rent bikes independently or join a guided group, a weather forecast, and where to get your picnic items, hot showers, good food, and soft beds. Expect no ants.

AY 5: On the fifth morning I was up by 6AM, in order to get packed, get breakfast, and get out. I had nearly twenty miles to go to get from Hyde to Middlemarch in time to catch the shuttle van to the late-morning train at Pukerangi: a final twenty miles across one of the loneliest parts of New Zealand’s South Island, a final 90 minutes of cinder roadbed that had once carried a lifeline railway to the pockets of gold miners and sheep farmers who came to seek their futures or escape their pasts here at the end of the earth.

          When I said good-bye to my fellow cyclists after a farewell dinner party the night before, I didn’t imagine I would see them again. They wouldn’t begin their last hours in the saddle until at least two hours after I pushed off for Middlemarch. They had a more leisurely schedule today — they were catching the late-afternoon train at Pukerangi for Dunedin, or were returning by our tour company shuttle van to Queenstown. Sitting alone over cereal and coffee in the breakfast room of the Otago Central Hotel in Hyde, I was mildly surprised when Jacque (Jack), our group guide, walked in and asked to join me. Jacque was always first up and last to bed. Ours was the first group that he led solo across the trail, and Jacque worked long hours to ensure that all the details were in place. I was flattered that he showed a little concern about my pushing off ahead of the others today.

          As I finished my coffee and got up to leave the breakfast room, most of the other six members of our group were coming in. After four days and nights together — sharing the challenges of the trail, eating three meals together each day — we were far from strangers to one another. We had laughed, complained, enthused, commiserated, encouraged, and, once, cried together. Despite mixed genders, mixed generations, and varied backgrounds and nationalities (I was the only Northern Hemisphere group member), we had become close, like a sports team or a military platoon. Handshakes, hugs, and kisses were laid on me as I went out the breakfast room door to climb on my bike to ride the last leg of the trail alone.

          In spite of it being late-summer (early March in New Zealand), the morning was cloudy and cool, threatening rain across the broad, arid valley. Southbound — toward Antarctica — the trail was flanked by the Taieri River to the east and the Rock and Pillar Range to the west. The higher Rock and Pillar summits — 1,000 meters above the valley — caught the clouds and some dark, hanging curtains of rain. I dressed for a cold rain on the bike — rain pants, waterproof windbreaker, shoe covers, gloves — but the rain clouds clung to the ridge. Still, the dark morning left me with a sense of foreboding as I departed the frontier hamlet of Hyde and cycled alone for the first time in five days. I pedaled hard, probably too fast for conditions and my high center of gravity. My backpack was heavy with my camera rig, water, and extra clothing I might need in Middlemarch just in case my suitcase didn’t arrive in time. The track was dry, but occasional soft cinders, gravel, or sand tugged at my wheels and threatened to dump me. I wouldn’t be the first casualty of the railway curves and cuts just outside of Hyde through the foothills of the Rock and Pillar mountains. In 1943 a speeding southbound Cromwell-Dunedin Express left the tracks in one of these curved cuts that crossed the Kinney family farm. Twenty-one passengers died at this lonely place. One of those, Francis Kinney, was the son of the farmer who owned the land. A pyramidal cairn along the nearby Rt. 87 highway commemorates the tragedy. I sped through the anonymous cut unaware of the wreck site that had ruined so many lives now marked some distance away by a roadside pile of stones. Probably the world did not even footnote the disaster, as it happened so far from most, and during one of history’s darkest years. But those families who call this region home still speak of the June wreck as the worst day in local history.

          After the cuts and curves south of Hyde feed into the broader Strath Taieri valley, most of the track south to Middlemarch is arrow straight: “tangent” in American railway speak. Here former Otago Central Railway expresses dared run fast on its 3’ 6” narrow gauge track (called “New Zealand standard gauge” here), passing through sheep station stops at Rock and Pillar and Ngotuna before stopping at the first real town along the line in more than 35 miles, Middlemarch. “Real town” = buildings, commercial and residential, plus sidewalks, cars, and pedestrians, restaurants, cafés, and other services. But at 9AM Middlemarch looked more like an empty Hollywood set than a real town.

IDDLEMARCH: According to local history the town may or may not have been named after the eponymous English novel by Georgia Elliot that was published at about the same time as the town was founded. No matter. The town lives still: as a center for local agriculture and as a stop on the railway. And, since 1991 — as it was briefly exactly 100 years earlier during the fitful construction (141 miles of railway in 42 years from 1879-1921) — Middlemarch is once again the inland terminus of the Otago Central Railway that followed the Taieri River north from near the South Pacific coast just south of the city of Dunedin into the rugged southern South Island interior.

          Middlemarch is just large enough that my riding goal, the offices of the Trail Journeys operator who organized my five-day cycling trip, was not obvious. With empty streets and no one to ask directions, I rode through town until I found the offices, which had just opened for the day. I was early, early enough to hang on to my bike for another hour so I could visit the rail yards, the station, the engine shed, and have a coffee and pastry at the only open café I could find, the Quench Café and Bar at the corner of Snow and Mold (really).

          Trains still come to Middlemarch, but not every day. A couple times a week the Taieri Gorge Railway tourist train travels the twelve miles beyond its normal final stop at the non-town of Pukerangi to the end-of-track in Middlemarch. The occasional freight train comes up from Dunedin bringing in or hauling out cars for Middlemarch area businesses and farms. Looking much like a branch line terminal town in the American Midwest, Middlemarch could easily serve as a template for a model railway layout town. Its old-timey rail station is the centerpiece of the town’s railway yard. Across the tracks from the station is a locomotive shed, and nearby is a refurbished armstrong roundtable. Maybe the twice weekly summertime Taieri Gorge Limited train causes some excitement in Middlemarch, but during my one trainless morning there everything was dead quiet.

ET ME INTRODUCE MYSELF: Maybe you think I am a train geek (railfan) as well as a cycle nut (bike buff). You’d be off the mark a little. When I was in college I walked (and photographed) the two dilapidated railway lines that ran through the rural university town. On a dare, I once slept on the railway bridge that crossed the river into town. Railways seemed curious anachronisms tied to simpler, less stressful times: 19th century dinosaurs. They have a culture all their own, with an extensive esoteric language, not unlike baseball. They are at least as photogenic as

sort. Soft adventure usually requires some daring and some sweat, but must supply decent meals, beer and/or wine, a shower, and a real bed with a roof. Climbing Mt. Everest (8,848m high on the remote Nepal/Tibet border) is hard adventure travel. Climbing the Breithorn (4,164m high on the very accessible Swiss/Italian border) is soft adventure travel. No tents. No heavy packs. No K-rations. No sleeping bags. No hypothermia. Just take the cable car most of the way, put on the gear, walk to the summit and back in a few hours, take the gear off, descend the cable car, shave, shower, and dress for dinner: raclette in a cozy Zermatt chalet restaurant. Or, my latest favorite example: five days cycling the Otago Central Rail Trail.

ISTORY OF THE OTAGO CENTRAL RAIL TRAIL: Soon after the 90 miles of rail line north and west from Middlemarch to Clyde in the Central Otago district of New Zealand’s South Island was declared a conservancy to be operated by the New Zealand Department of Conservation (NZDOC) in 1993, the abandoned railway was transformed into a recreational path, the Otago Central Rail Trail, modeled after similar projects in the US and elsewhere. Once the rails were removed, some 68 bridges — including several long and high trestles — were re-decked and the roadbed surface and 3 tunnels were improved for bicycle, horse, and foot traffic. When first opened in 2000, the Otago Central Rail Trail offered an experience that was more hard adventure than soft. Camping (but without fires) was permitted along the trail (and still is), and, for many, camping was more efficient (and possibly more comfortable) than staying in any of the few line-side accommodations available. Few available restaurants and groceries meant hauling food as well as clothing and shelter.

          Over the next ten years, the Otago Central Rail Trail began forging an international reputation, largely by hosting an annual two-day run/cycle race from Clyde to Middlemarch on the last weekend in February (remember – that’s high summer in New Zealand). The duathlon drew large numbers of entries from around the world, and word spread about the 90 miles of nearly isolated cycle path in glorious, remote surroundings. People came to ride and walk the trail, and others expressed interest but did not come. Initially, the trail lacked the ancillary infrastructure necessary to supply users any but the most basic food, shelter, and toilet facilities. However, perceived demand over the next ten years resulted in the development of a tourism industry built around the trail. Three things helped:

1. On the western end of the trail — from Alexandra west to Clyde, Cromwell, Bannockburn, and beyond almost to Queenstown — a new and burgeoning Central Otago wine district was emerging, drawing upmarket tourism to the world’s southernmost wine area to fancy its award-winning pinot noirs and other varietals. There has been crossover interest between rail-trail and wine-trail tourists, so much so that at least one tour operator offers a combined guided Central Otago wine trail and Otago Central Rail Trail itinerary. (My trip was one of these.)

2. Immediately west of Central Otago is the Queenstown region. With dozens of famous hard and soft adventure activities (start point for several of New Zealand’s Great Walks, and center for whitewater jetboating, bungy jumping, skiing, climbing, mountain biking, and other adrenaline rushes), Queenstown is well-established as New Zealand’s adventure capital, and probably the South Island’s most popular destination for international visitors. The “what’s the latest rush?” ethos of Queenstown tourism has promoted the Otago Central Rail Trail as a flavor of the month. Indeed, most tour operators on the OCRT provide shuttle van services from Queenstown lodgings (including those used by HOME AT FIRST) to and from the trail at no extra charge.

3. Immediately east of the trail – at the town of Middlemarch and, more frequently, at the middle-of-nowhere turning point of Pukerangi – is the operating remnant of former Otago Central Railway: the Taieri Gorge Railway. Its namesake train, the Taieri Gorge Express (express in the sense of slow, scenic, and nostalgic, like various “express” trains that lure train nuts to Switzerland) operates at least one turn-around trip daily from Dunedin — principal city of southern New Zealand, and second in size only to Christchurch (five driving hours to the north) on the South Island. Initially the only draw for the Taieri Gorge Express was as a tourist day-trip by rail inland from coastal Dunedin through the dramatic Taieri River canyon region as it climbs 1,000 feet up from the Pacific plain up to the Central Otago plateau, reaching Pukerangi in just over two hours or Middlemarch in 2½ hours. Most passengers of the Taieri Gorge Express are traveling the route as a round-trip day excursion. But, with the train offering a convenient connection to the eastern end of the Otago Central Rail Trail, more and more of its passengers are traveling one-way: to begin the ride at Middlemarch, or – like me on Day 5 – as a return to civilization following the completion of the ride at Middlemarch.

          The “build it and they will come” philosophy has worked on the Otago Central Rail Trail. Over its first ten years the trail’s infrastructure has expanded in anticipation of increased ridership. New emergency weather shelters and toilet facilities have been added along the line. Many new accommodations — especially 2-star and 3-star lodgings — have sprung up in towns, hamlets, and on isolated sites along the trail. (Most of these have web sites with links on the official OCRT web site, and may be easily booked by independent riders.) Some old accommodations – like the Otago Central Hotel in Hyde that provided my last night’s lodging and breakfast on the trail (see photo above) – were rescued from certain extinction by the new source of guests: cycle tourists from around the world. Restaurants, cafés, taverns, pubs, frontier bars, grocery stores, bike rental and repair shops, and all manner of OCRT-related services have started up or experienced a renaissance thanks to the trail. Some non-related businesses are also prospering from the transient cyclists, including the big, remote, indoor curling hall in Naseby (unique in the Southern Hemisphere), off the rail trail by at least 3 miles (nearest point: Ranfurly). For international guests, casual cyclists, and anyone looking for more creature comforts or less do-it-yourself organizing (I qualify on most of these categories), a number of tour operators have been awarded concessions to run guided and non-guided-but-completely-arranged tour itineraries on the trail. (My trip was organized by one of these companies. I paid the full retail price for my trip.) So much development has occurred in the past decade, that, at least from November through April (the warmer months in Central Otago), a trip along the OCRT may now be considered “soft adventure”.

Y RAIL TRAIL TRIP: I may have several advantages over most international riders on the Otago Central Rail Trail. I am enough of a bike nut that I brought my own pedals and shoes. And, I am no novice traveler in New Zealand. This visit was my 7th trip, and I am a registered “Kiwi Specialist” travel consultant with annual certification from New Zealand Tourism.

          I selected a combined wine tasting and cycling trip — the newest guided tour offered by Trail Journeys — a 5-day, 4-night itinerary with all meals (4 breakfasts, 4 lunches, 3 dinners, 4 morning snacks, and 3 afternoon snacks), a half-day of vineyard visits with wine-tasting (on Day 1), plus side-excursions to various on-line attractions (a historic goldrush town, a Welsh settlement, a haunted frontier saloon, a primitive engineering works that fabricated inventions for the region's sheep farmers, a lonely hilltop cemetery associated with a former tuberculosis sanitarium, a curling hall where we broomed and slid but never lost our incredulity, and a massive, moonlike, working, sinister, open-pit gold mine that looked something out of Goldfinger), van transfers from my Queenstown lodging to the trailhead at Clyde and from Middlemarch at trail’s end to Pukerangi station, and the Taieri Gorge Express train from Pukerangi to Dunedin. This premium itinerary is available 8 times during the 47 guided-trip program that Trail Journeys offers between from September through April. Including a single-person supplement, I paid something over NZ$1700 (more than US$1200) for the trip.

          Trail Journeys reckons 16 persons is the maximum they will accept for any guided trip. Eight persons is their minimum. Most trips sell out well before the company closes their registration period. Mine did not. At registration close, my trip had only 7 registrants, but Trail Journeys decided to run it anyway. The other six customers who paid good money to cycle up to five hours a day across a little-known, less-remarked landscape included four New Zealander women ages about 40 to about 60 and a 30-something newlywed couple honeymooning from Australia. Our guide, Jacque — born in Holland, but, since about 22 years of age, a committed Kiwi — was very much the eighth member of our group and the glue that kept us tight. Jacque took extraordinary care that our trip was perfect. Perhaps his concern was due to our tour being Jacque’s first solo assignment, but I suspect Jacque is a natural sheepdog who will tend his hundredth flock as conscientiously as he did his first. Jacque wasn’t perfect — he made rookie mistakes. But he was so earnest and likeable that we were quick to forgive him when he didn’t have the right answer to one of our interminable questions, or when he forgot something like ensuring that all of us understood an important instruction. His endearing desire that we all have a perfect trip was soon mirrored by our desire that Jacque have a perfect first group.

HE CYCLING — the essence of the trip — often seemed an afterthought, the background music to a five-day summer camp focused on exploring the Maniototo Plain, the high, remote plateau of Central Otago crossed by the rail trail. The first day’s one-to-two-hour ride was almost an afterthought, coming after four hours of guided wine tasting and one hour of changing into cycling clothes, getting kitted out with rental bikes, meeting our guide, and choosing between two routes, the only time we had route options. Two ladies took the one-hour straight-and-level Otago Central trail from Clyde to Alexandra. Five of us took the parallel but more adventuresome, longer, more scenic, winding, and wooded Clutha River Centennial Track. With constant undulations, numerous small streams to cross on narrow, wooden spans, blind corners, and some loose, sandy surface, the Clutha River Track presented two hours of ever-changing cycling and some athletic challenge. It was the only such stretch encountered on the trip, and was, for me, the most fun on the bike of the five days.

          By comparison, the Otago Central Rail Trail was straight, flat, and wide open. Its vistas, while rarely grand, were broad, sweeping expanses edged with big skies and distant mountain ranges. Sometimes we were told we were on a plateau, and sometimes in a valley. It didn’t matter. The uphills were long, steady pulls that did not require standing on the pedals. The downhills were long, steady descending ramps so slight that pedaling was nearly always required. Curves were mostly slight bends in the straight roadbed, built to keep trains moving at steady rates and not to wow cyclists with tight corners. Nowhere were the track straighter and its grade less noticeable than crossing the Ida Valley on the morning of Day 3. With my clipless bike pedals providing power on the upstroke as well as the downstroke, I often was well in front of the rest of the group. During the long (approximately 90-minute), soporific crossing of the Ida Valley, I was surprised to see my speedometer register over 35km/hr (about 20mph) on a long tangent that I thought flat or perhaps slightly uphill.

WO DRAMATIC SECTIONS: The sexiest — and most photographed/advertised — sections of the Otago Central are its two crossings of rugged canyon lands. The first of these traces the Manuherikia River through the Poolburn Gorge between Lauder and Auripo stations. In a just a few kilometers the trail crosses the line’s longest trestle (363’ long, Manuherikia Bridge No. 1), then climbs high above the river, passes through two pitch-black tunnels, and exits the gorge via the 121’ high Poolburn Viaduct. This scenic portion comes during the early morning of Day 3 in stark contrast to the endless Ida Valley tangent that follows the mid-morning snack break at Auripo. Day 3, with three distinct geographic sections, spans 45km (27mi) on its climb from Omakau to the trail’s high point at Wetterburn. The Poolburn Gorge section (17.5km — 10.5mi — downhill from Auripo through the gorge to Omakau) is often targeted for one-day rides by cyclists with limited time, money, or both. (One operator offers Queenstown pick-up and drop-off plus bikes, helmets, weatherproof jackets, and lunch for about NZ$200/adult for the day ride over this scenic section of the OCRT.)

          The second canyon section occurs during the afternoon of Day 4 when the OCRT descends from the Maniototo Plain south of Kokonga and enters the greener (wetter, coastal) climate in the upper reaches of the Taieri River canyon after the Rt. 87 road crossing at a place called Daisybank. In the 10km (6mi) south of Daisybank, the trail winds high above the Taieri River, clinging to the canyon walls in remote country, crossing the 105’ high Price’s Creek Viaduct and feeling its way through the 500’ long Price’s Creek Tunnel before returning to civilization (sort of) by emerging at the Otago Central Hotel at the hamlet of Hyde. This section could be done independently as an overnight trip from Dunedin using the Taieri Gorge Express train to Pukerangi or Middlemarch. Pick-up your pre-arranged bike rental at Middlemarch, then cycle north to Hyde, where you can stay a night in the refurbished, frontier-style Otago Central Hotel. The next morning cycle north through the Upper Taieri Gorge to Daisybank, then return to Hyde for lunch. After lunch, cycle back to Middlemarch, turn in your bike and take the late-afternoon train back to Dunedin. Total cost for the two-day excursion ranges between NZ$300-NZ$450 per person for each of two persons sharing a room (with meals).

HY GO WITH A GROUP? Although I am a veteran independent traveler, traveling with a guided group appeals to me sometimes. I was aware that many (perhaps most) cyclists crossing the OCRT were independent riders. “Independent” comes in several varieties:

• Most Independent: Following a completely self-designed itinerary with no support services beyond bike rental and transfer to/from the trailhead. All lodging and meals organized by the rider.

• Less Independent: Following a self-designed itinerary, but using a service for bike rental, transfers, and the booking of overnight lodgings with breakfast. Lunch, dinner, and snacks organized by the rider en route.

• Even Less Independent: Following a set itinerary where all travel dates, overnight stops, transfers, equipment rental, and meals are organized by a tour operator. The cyclist rides alone, or with a group of his family/friends/colleagues, but without a guide.

• Practically Not Independent: Everything organized by a tour operator. The cyclist is a member of a “group” of strangers with whom he shares the experience and led by a guide who sees to the efficient movement of the group, acts as an emergency back-up for injuries, accidents, and illnesses, and can make changes on the fly in the event of rotten weather, or natural disasters. (All of New Zealand is inside of active earthquake zones. Recently quake-stricken Christchurch is about five hours drive north of the OCRT.)

• Fully Guided With Optional Side Excursions: My Trip. The only “independent” part of my experience was pedaling and steering the bike, except for Day 5, when I rode alone from Hyde to Middlemarch in order to make the morning Taieri Gorge Express from Pukerangi. (I needed to be in Dunedin by 4PM to begin my next New Zealand adventure.)

          My Trip cost more than any more “independent” itinerary. For the extra money I received:

1. Company on the trail, whenever I wanted it. As a solo rider spending 4-5 days in a remote place, having the option of companionship was a pleasant extra. Most important among the “company” is the guide, a source of information about the trail, the region, the flora & fauna, the history, the culture, and the future. In this case, the 7 paying riders became a cohesive group willing to share the intensity of five very active days with each other. Saying hello to one another as absolute strangers when the van collected us at our various Queenstown lodgings after breakfast on the start of Day 1 was awkward and uncomfortable. Saying good-bye with kisses and hugs with the familiarity due family or teammates after breakfast four days later was natural and sincere.

2. The assurance that if I needed help — again I was riding solo in an unfamiliar and largely unpopulated place — help would be close by. (I hope I never need to test the readiness and effectiveness of the emergency services in such a remote location. Our guide, Jacque, was nearly late once to our morning snack because he stopped to help an “independent” rider who had crashed and was bleeding in the wild tunnel/bridge section of the Poolburn Gorge.

3. Confidence that the itinerary — booked by knowledgeable, local professionals — would work as advertised. Had I done all the research and made all the reservations myself, the trip probably would have come off without a hitch. But, one dropped reservation could have jeopardized all the complex dominoes of the 5-day itinerary. Not worrying about such things is well worth the extra cost.