The Queen Charlotte Mountain Bike Trip

Last weekend, my real 'last weekend' in New Zealand, we did a big mountain bike trip. Three days of riding and playing in the sun along the coastline in the Queen Charlotte Sounds on the top of NZ's South Island. It was fantastic. The Couger Line (a water taxi) took us and our gear and our bikes and our coffees for a long tour towards the end of the sounds and the beginning of the 77-km trail. This dog was enjoying the boat ride as well.

The beginning of the trail was on the jetty at Ship's Cove (flat riding) and then the dirt trail began (very steep riding uphill for a long time to the ridge line). We ended up pushing our bikes for the first half an hour before the actual riding began, but it was okay, because we only had day packs - all our heavy gear was transported by the water taxi to our day's end destination, the backpackers at Punga Cove.

Half way through the first day, we popped out of the native forest into a little community called Furneaux. I had a toilet stop, and the bikes got a rest too.

The first night was spent at Punga Cove. It's a wonderful, secluded spot capable of accommodating 80 or so people, but because it is off season we were the only four people there. It was fantastic!

I took some time to watch the stars while Brian braved the cold ocean. Yes, he went swimming by moonlight. He's been fairly consistent with his ability to swim in cold ocean waters lately. This time he wasn't naked, but it was dark so it wouldn't have mattered.

Day two was excellent riding with amazing views and stellar, hot weather (may I remind you that it's supposed to be winter here?).

The sounds here in NZ look like places I've been in the Gulf Islands, or further up the BC coast closer to Princess Royal Island.

The team of four: Dee, Nashi, Janie, and Brian.

Lunch breaks are so good, but don't sit too long or eat too much or else sleep is likely to take over and then it becomes impossible to jump back on the bike.

Da girlz.

Along the trail, we came across a lonely, crying lamb looking for its mum. Awe... Don't get eaten by the night monsters (wild boars).

The second night was spent at Portage Cove at another backpackers, where we met up with Dana and Lisa for beers and Mexican food a la Dee.

The following morning, I headed out just before the rest of the group to gain some time on the steep hill climb to the trail head. I made one wrong turn and ended up backtracking for a bit and missed the rest of my biking posse who scooted off thinking I was ahead of them. Long-story-short, they finally realized what was going on and Brian found me not too far behind them a few hours later, but my spirits were a bit shot because A) I was wondering all morning when they would figure out I was 'missing', B) I pushed my bike up a steep hill for an hour by myself, and C) when I got to the top of the hill, the downhill was too steep with tight switchbacks that I had to walk my bike all the way down (that was when the curse words were being tossed around concerning the lack of usefulness of my freaking bike). I felt unbalanced in my mind which lead to unbalanced behaviour on my bike, and with my exhaustion from the previous days of riding I found myself off-and-on-and-off-and-on my bike far too much for the level of difficulty of the trail. In the end, I made it and tried to enjoy the last part (the best part of the entire trail for riding).

By mid-afternoon, we found ourselves back on the water taxi (after Brian had another dip in the ocean, of course). And back towards home after three days of riding, of extreme sunshine and plenty of good times (with the exception of getting temporarily lost).