Back In Auckland Where The Real Adventure Begins

Today, returning to Auckland left me with an odd feeling. It felt like the end of my trip and in a way, I suppose it was an end. As I caught a glimpse of the Auckland Sky Tower again it felt a little like a home coming. But this was no home coming. This is not even the end. My return to Auckland marks only the beginning of the real adventure.

My tour of Northland, the most northerly region of New Zealand was never my intended route. It was rather forced on me by circumstances and events beyond my control (Broken Promises and a Change of Plans). That said, it has proven a fantastic opportunity to become acquainted with the rigours of cycle touring and I am happy to have had the experience. I now realise that this was a blessing in disguise. A much needed short introduction into the world of cycling long distances, carrying all of your belongings with you.

During these two weeks, I have cycled some 700km (411 miles), I've visited some of the most historical places in all of New Zealand, I've met some incredible and wonderful people, I've heard some fascinating life stories, I've made new friends, I became trapped by the tail end of a cyclonic weather system, and I've been woken in the dead of night by the wailing of a tsunami warning siren. It feels special and it is special. Even though I have a lot further to cycle, in fact, I have only touched the tip of the iceberg so far, I have learned much about what it takes to cycle tour and I have learned much about myself in the process.  Even if I were to stop now, I would see these two weeks as an achievement, but I do not want to stop now.  This is still only the beginning.

Not everything has been as I would have hoped and there have been difficult days and moments. My ride from Ruakaka up to Russell (Headwind, Hills and a Town Too Far), a distance of some 136km stands out. That day taught me much, not least that I am only human, that I am far from being perfect, and that I am not invincible.  Although I reached my destination, it was a day that frightened me, that left me shaken and broken, and wondering whether I could actually accomplish my dream. I needed that day. It was a learning day and it allowed me to set more sensible and realistic goals. It is also not as easy to free camp (pitching your tent in unofficial places) as I had thought. I haven't managed to free camp once so far and to be honest, I haven't felt the need. It remains on my to do list and until I do it, I will not feel as though I have experienced the adventure that I came here seeking.

I've experienced one near miss with traffic so far, which happened today on my way back down to Auckland. I was in good rhythm and speed when a car decided to cut left across the cycle lane, pull into a gas station right in front of me and I had no option other than to make a sudden swerve around the car, out into the road.  Unsighted by the car and unbeknown to me, the cycle lane ended abruptly on the other side of the gas station entrance. As I cut back in to what I thought would be the cycle lane once again, I had no time to react as I bumped heavily into a kerb (curb) stone. My front wheel bore the impact and both of my front panniers were bumped off, one of them ending up in the road, the other on the pavement. I stayed upright and stopped to recover my things before any passing cars could flatten the contents of the pannier. It's always amazing how the people who create these incidents remain completely oblivious to what is going on around them, either that or they choose to stare straight ahead, in the hope that what they do not see, cannot really be happening. With this one exception, I've enjoyed some good days on the road among heavy traffic, even finding that the notorious State Highway 1 and the logging trucks that use it, is actually not as bad as I had read, and had been led to believe.

Two weeks down, ten more weeks to come. I know that I have much to learn and to discover on this trip. If there was one thing I knew, that has now become a certainty in my mind, it is this: I love New Zealand. I did from the moment I first arrived here as a green, solo traveller in June 2004 and ever since then, it has remained deeply and firmly rooted in my heart. This trip, my third time in New Zealand (I was a student here for three years between 2007 and 2010) has so far done nothing to change my opinion and has only cemented my feelings.

What then, will the next ten weeks hold for me? Other than a lot of kilometres and miles sat on the saddle of my bicycle, I do not know. And that is the very thing that I came here to find. I came here to find all that I did not know, and that is the adventure. This is what frees the heart and allows the soul to grow. This is what allows the light to shine forth. This is not just a cycle tour, this is a journey and a story of love.  I am giving myself the ultimate gift, by pursuing my dream and following my heart.

The road goes ever on. All that we can do is to choose the manner of our walking.

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Hills, Smiles, Sunburn And The Leg's Are Good

Yesterday, as I cycled the 68km north from Auckland to Warkworth, I experienced a moment of epiphany.  I was cycling up yet another hill, this one both longer and with a steeper gradient than the others I had already encountered.  What occurred to me was nothing, if it was not the most blindingly obvious fact that I had subconsciously known all along.  In a split second moment of comprehension, that thought became a living reality.  I do not have a choice, I must keep going.

In the morning, shortly after 10am, I began my journey.  It seemed that everyone in the apartment hotel was trying to leave at exactly the same time and I had waited patiently as the doors of each elevator pinged open, revealing an already full compartment, with no chance of taking my fully loaded bike and I down to the lobby, so that I could check out.  After five or six full elevators had trundled down from the upper floors, each one seemingly more full than the one before, I hit upon a canny idea and pressed the up button.  I figured that elevators coming up were more likely to be empty - I was right.

It was all down hill from the hotel to the ferry terminal and a good job too.  Not only did I have my full panniers, I also needed to carry a large pack on my back containing those items that I would not be taking on my tour, which I was to drop off at the bike shop on my way through.  The rain and strong winds that had gusted the day before had thankfully abated and I freewheeled downhill under broken cloud and blue skies.  From the back of the ferry, I watched Auckland recede into the distance and I said a quiet goodbye.  How would I be feeling the next time I came this way?  Pack dropped off with Megan at Auckland Cycles and after some ribbing from her and her assistant about the amount of weight I was carrying ("but I need my laptop"), I wheeled the bike out of the ferry terminal building, straddled the crossbar, slipped my right foot inside of its toeclip, and pushed off with my left leg.  My trip had begun in earnest.

Twenty five minutes later and feeling like the kid who had dropped a quarter and found twenty dollars, I was sitting having a coffee in Takapuna.  Everything had been easy, the bike felt good, well balanced and I was feeling ecstatic, almost giddy with the happiness of being on the road at last.  I wanted to take this first day easy and although I had maintained a good level of general fitness, I was not in the best physical conditioning for cycling long distances.  A late morning, congratulatory coffee seemed the order of the day, and sitting outside on the pavement in the warm sunshine, I called my parents to test my Skype connection on my newly acquired smartphone, and to share in my moment of joy.

Pushing on, I began to leave the suburbs of northern Auckland behind and the road opened up.  This was what it was all about!  I was afforded stunning vistas across the water and out to Waiheke Island.  Up and down rises and falls in the road I pedalled and I felt energised and electric.  Each time I came to an uphill section, I worried that my legs were going to give out, but they didn't.  In fact, they felt strong and I began to give thanks for the gym work I had put in over the Christmas period back in England, and for the hours of riding under severe heat and humidity, up the sharp inclines of the coastal roads in Costa Rica.  I could not help myself from smiling and, with each new incredible view of the New Zealand scenery, I broke out into a beaming grin and laughed.  I was doing it.  I was living my dream.

At a distance of around 30km, I stopped for lunch and a coffee refuelling in Orewa, a lovely beach town, bustling with locals and tourists, all out enjoying the sun, that had now become quite hot.  I had forgotten the intensity of the New Zealand sunshine.  It is one thing to be out in 35C temperatures and sun in Costa Rica, but quite another to feel the sun in New Zealand, even at low temperatures.  It burns.  Or rather, it shines and you burn.  I could feel it on my arms a little and on my upper lip that was beginning to dry out.  No matter, I had no choice but to continue and to push on for Warkworth, which I was sure lay only a further 10 or 20kms up the road at most.  I leaned over to the cafe table next to me and asked them.  "Ah yeah, 30 or 40k's I'd say."  What?  Surely not, couldn't be.  I felt a little crest fallen.  I could feel myself tiring slightly and the thought of another 40kms in this heat was a lot.  Not the easy first day I had envisaged at all.

Think of New Zealand and you possibly picture the stunning mountain scenery, that gave such an incredible and beautiful natural backdrop to the Lord of the Rings and Hobbit movies.  That's all down in the south, on South Island.  I was heading north, towards the upper tip of the north island.  I had figured it was fairly flat this way.  Out of Orewa, the more serious hills began.  After I crested each one, I hoped to spy Warkworth laying down at the bottom, and each time I was wrong.  I sat on the saddle and I pumped and I pushed.  On one hill, about half way up, I pushed the level to drop down a gear, so that I could spin the pedals more easily.  With a gut wrenching feeling of dismay, almost bordering on panic, I realised I had no where to go.  It was either this gear or get off and walk.  I never walk.  Not ever.  I dug in, turned the pedals, found a rhythm, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, over and over.  That rhythm consumed me, it needed to.  It kept me going and as the road began to level out towards the top, I looked up and turned my head to the side.  I smiled.  I had been so caught up in getting over the hill, I had forgotten why I was doing this.  The views were great reward for my efforts.  Of course, if you go up, logic says that you must go down again and on the seat of a bicycle, arms and legs tucked in, butt pushed backwards, head down low over the bars, you not only go down, you fly.  I hit speeds of over 60km/h as I rocketed down, sweeping around bends, staying in the middle of the road, going as fast as the cars behind me.  Exhilaration and joy supreme.

But I did begin to fear that I could not make too many more of these ascents.  Not on my first day.  Perhaps I had bitten off more than I could chew?  Perhaps I had been over ambitious with my plans and distances?  I was worried that through the night (assuming I ever reached Warkworth), my legs would stiffen terribly and I would be in some difficulties the next day.  I was now on flat road, close to the coastline, winding around bend after bend.  I stared at my cycle computer 65km covered, 66, 67, and then it came into view and I felt a sense of accomplishment and a huge sense of relief.  Warkworth.  I had finally made it.  Day one was over, I was on my way.

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I decided to spend an extra day in Warkworth and take a look around.  It's a very picturesque town and I feel I owe it to myself as a reward.  One point to note is that on waking this morning, there is no stiffness in my legs, no aches, no pains, no nothing.  Quite remarkably, they feel good.  Tomorrow I'll test them out again, as I continue my journey north.

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Tomorrow Is Just Another Day

Tomorrow is just another day.  That's how it always is, that's how it's always going to be.  But occasionally there are some days that are different, when something special occurs.  For me, tomorrow is going to be that day.  Tomorrow is bringing with it the excitement of beginning a new adventure and with that, comes the inescapable daunting prospect of living for the next three months with everything I need strapped to a bicycle, as I pedal my way around the incredible scenic beauty, that is New Zealand.

I've been here for five days already.  Forget the first two, they were wiped out by an overpowering dose of jet lag and the lack of sleep that comes from flying half way around the world.  Not to mention the emotional turmoils of leaving family and friends behind once more.  It doesn't matter how many times I do it, that part never gets any easier.  During the last few days of any stay back in England, I go through a number of goodbyes with various people, each one gets harder, until there comes the finality of that last goodbye, the toughest one of all.  Flying is good for the soul though.  From the moment that I begin to head through departures and I step through the first passport and boarding pass inspection point, my head readjusts, I shake off the emotion, I enter a new frame of mind.  The goodbyes are now over and in their place comes the new and the always present sense of excitement that comes from travelling.  From looking back, I now turn forward, to the present and to the future and the hope of what might be, and the thought of what the unknown may bring.

On Wednesday morning, I strolled the short walk through downtown Auckland and caught the Devonport ferry across the harbour.  From out on the water, I was awarded glorious views of New Zealand's largest and most cosmopolitan city.  I'd never seen it from this vantage point before and it is one I recommend heartily to any traveller to these shores.  For the small fee of $11 NZD return, it is money surely well spent, as is a morning exploring and having a coffee in Devonport.  For me, Devonport was my destination as I was heading there to collect my rental bicycle from Auckland Cycles.  I cannot say why, but I found myself to be nervous about doing this and I think I gave Megan, the owner, the impression that I was a bumbling fool, a veritable Mr Bean.

The bike I have for the first part of my tour is an Avanti Circa.  It's a sport bike that has been fitted with racks and panniers to convert it into a touring model.  I'll have it for three weeks before I swap it in for a proper Cannondale touring bike.  It is my hope that the Avanti will see me through my tour of Northland and all the way up to Cape Reinga, before returning to Auckland on 3 February.  The frame is a little on the small side for me and if my cranks are in the horizontal position, the front wheel knocks against my feet if I turn it too sharply.  Still, that's not exactly a major problem, as long as I remember to shift my pedal position before making any sharp turns.  The bike came with panniers on the front and back, tool kit under the seat, two water bottle cages, a lock, and a helmet, as the wearing of cycle helmets is compulsory here in New Zealand.

I've used this week to pick up essential small bits and pieces that I think I will need for the trip.  I pretty much had everything covered but I decided I would prefer to eat and drink out of lightweight plastic, rather than the metallic of my cooking pots.  One item that I have not purchased is specialised shoes for cycling.  I have debated that around and around with myself, and I was going to opt for a pair of robust walking shoes that I could utilise both on and off the bike.  But after looking around for something suitable, I decided that I would cycle the way I cycled in Costa Rica, in my Converse sneakers.  For sure, Converse shoes are not ideal for cycling, but I'm used to them and I like them.  I figured a little bit of style could go a long way when accompanied by a pair of Lycra shorts.

One other item of note that I have been trying to figure out was how to carry additional water for cooking and washing.  I can only carry 1.5 litres on the bike (I rejected purchasing specialist water bottles in favour of a reusable mineral water bottle and saved heaps in the bargain) and this amount is just not enough for making overnight wild camps away from water supplies.  The idea I came up with was to purchase a Platypus style bladder and store that in a small backpack on the bike.  When it gets to mid to late afternoon, I plan on filling up the bladder and carrying it on my back inside of the backpack.  The beauty of this solution is A) that when not in use there is very little size to worry about and hardly any additional weight to carry, and B) I am able to carry up to 3 litres of additional water.  Having a small backpack with me is also useful for shopping and other expeditions I might need to make.  I have no idea how practical this is going to be until I am able to road test it, so I might yet be looking for an alternative.

Today, I've finalised the packing into the panniers and tested out securing the tent.  In incredibly gusty winds, more akin to being down in Wellington, I headed out in the early evening to test run the fully loaded bike.  A short five minute ride way was the Auckland Domain, and it was to there that I headed, some what nervously, as I exited the hotel apartments for the first time.  Once on the road, even in the gusting winds that threatened to push me under the wheels of one of the many buses that overtook me, I felt stable and at ease.  The balance of the bike felt pretty good, as I had ensured as much as possible by hand and guess work, that each one of the left and right pannier sets weighed approximately the same.  I was even able to stand on the pedals and sway the bike from left to right for assisting with spinning the pedals, something I had thought not possible on a fully loaded touring bike.  

Everything was set and ready.  All that remained was to pack the last few items into the panniers the next morning (wash kit, laptop, food essentials), get a good nights sleep, and then in the morning, it would begin.  The bike was ready, but how ready was I to begin this adventure?

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