1/14 - Christchurch to Picton

Mileage:  245'ish

A rough start to the trip.

My eyes popped open, it must be 7:30am.  Yup, on the dot.  Checkout at the Dorset House was 10am.  If my body would let me sleep in for once, I’d argue but seeing as how I was already hopping around like a jack rabbit, it was a moot point.  The “concierge” recommended a terrific café called Vics that was a block from the hostel.  I could kiss this woman.  The café was also a bakery and just looking at all the fresh baked goods, bagels and assortment of the others goodies made my eyes cross.  I was actually considering changing the name of the blog from “The Road Less Travelled” to “Eating My Way Across New Zealand”.

I ordered the french toast (shocker).  The bread was made by the bakery with a chewy sesame crust and a soft inside.  Deeelish!  It came with thick slabs of bacon (BAAACON!!!) , some sort of cream cheese spread and fresh fruit topped with a caramelized plantains.  I also ordered a glass of orange juice because I woke up this morning with a sore throat.  Ugh!  I need to kick this thing in the tooshy so it doesn’t get worse.  Next item on the agenda, picking up the motorcycles.

Matt and I rented our bikes from different places so we went to his place first since it was the closest.  I got to experience local free transit, woohoo!  Their bus system was pretty terrific but it was a bit of a trek to get to.  The shuttle stop was about 3 block’ish from the hostel and about that much from the bike rental.  Not a big deal except I’m carrying a crapload of gear.  We got to Te Waipounamu Motorcycle Rentals and met the owner who was also name Matt.  Kizmet I tell ya!  As it turned out, Matt the Owner also hailed from Dallas, TX!  What were the chances?  Super nice guy too.  While Ninja Matt completed the rental paperwork, I called my rental place to see if they could pick me up or if I’d have to cab it.  The plan was to bus it there but having just carried over 50 lbs of gear from the shuttle station, I wasn’t too keen on dragging it back to the shuttle just to catch another bus and trek another ¼ mi to the place.  Matt the Owner had a great idea.  Why not leave my luggage and have Ninja Matt give me a ride over there to pick up the bike?  Wow, what a fab idea!  It was interesting trying to get on the back of the V-Strom.  For those of you who don’t remember how short I am, let me provide a quick visual reference.  When I sit on a V-Strom, my feet have approximately 6” of clearance from the ground.  No joke.  Now picture me trying to climb onto the back of the V-Strom which is higher than the seat.  Yea, it wasn’t pretty.  I couldn’t even hike my leg over.  I finally used the passenger pegs to get on without knocking the entire bike over in the process and we were on our way.  Did I mention they drove on the left side in NZ? 

Matt's squid shot

I picked up my bike, which had definitely seen better days.  The panniers (hard side luggage) had a ton of dents and the bike itself was filthy.  I didn’t really care as it just meant it wouldn’t matter if I added a few dents or if I returned it even more covered in dirt.  I rode the bike back to Te Waipounamu to transfer my luggage only to find that one of the panniers couldn’t be removed.  Further investigation noted that the bike attachments had broken off at some point and someone bolted the luggage to the bike.  This meant I get to pack with the luggage on the bike.  Lovely.  I dragged my stuff to the bike…wait, where did it go?  It’s not where I parked it!  I looked around and it had been pulled into the garage.  The mechanic, a wiry old white haired guy with tats, was giving it a once over.  The guys at this bike rental shop were absolutely amazing.  They treated the bike as if I didn’t rent from the yahoos down the street.  The bike was pulled apart and they were cleaning out the corroded battery terminals because they were concerned about the safety of the neglected bike.  It really said a lot that they cared more about the safety of the rider rather than where the bike was rented.  They also performed all the wiring to get my Garmin connected to the battery.

We hit the road around 12:30’ish.  About 15 minutes into the ride I realized I didn’t have my wallet.  I pulled over to check the luggage but it was nowhere to be found.  At least I realized it now rather than 200 miles into the ride.  I hopped back on the bike to head back to the bike rental shop, turn the key and…nothing.  The bike wouldn’t start.  Kickstand up, check.  Neutral, check.  Still nothing, except an electrical “click click click” sound.  The battery was completely dead.  Matt finally managed to jump start it with the help of a local good Samaritan since I couldn’t push fast enough in my motorcycle boots.  Then he couldn’t find neutral.  The bike shifted from 1^st directly to 2^nd.  We performed a complicated dance/bike swap with him getting of the bike while holding in the clutch, then passing it to me to get on.  We managed to not drop the bike although at this point, I felt like throwing it into the ditch.  We finally got back to Te Waipounamu to look for my wallet, which I found, and called New Zealand Bikes to complain about their POS bike.  They apologized and offered to come by to swap out the bike with a newer one.

Several hours later and riding a different bike, we finally got back on the road.  We had approximately 230 miles to cover to get to our planned destination, Picton.  The ride was stunning as we rode through the mountains.  

One of the many bridges we crossed

The most memorable moment of the day happened as I crested one of the hills.  We had been riding through the mountains and as I rode over the rise, the view that met my gaze was a crescent shaped white sand beach with sparkling blue water bordered by mountain peaks.  I was so dazzled I almost forgot I was riding a motorcycle.  The problem with a destination bike trip is that there are so many beautiful views you risk not getting anywhere because you want to take pictures of everything.

We stopped for a late lunch and decide to push off without getting gas.  Not a good idea.  As we made our way through more mountains, my gas light blinked on.  I checked the gps, 20 miles to the nearest gas station.  No problem.  The first station we found was closed.  Ooookay.  I started getting nervous.  We finally found an unmanned gas station 10 miles down but it wouldn’t take either our credit or debit cards.  We were just trying to figure out if we could make it to the next station 20 miles away without running out of gas when a toothless local woman walked by, sipping on her umpteenth beer by the look of it.  Matt asked if she had a credit card and we could give her cash.  She didn’t but she said her husband was home and would be able to help us if we picked him up.  Matt saddled up and headed to their house.  At this point, I was having flashbacks of every horror flick where innocent by-passers ran out of gas and happened across toothless, inbred cannibals who sit around waiting for unsuspecting travelers.  Did I mention New Zealand was a cannibalistic society?  

It was quite a sight watching Matt ride up with Toothless One's hubby two up.  He was very gracious and after we got some gas,  Matt gave him a ride home and we were finally off again.  I decided henceforth, we will get gas every 200 km.

We arrived at the Sequoia Lodge in Picton a little after 9pm.