2/17/2009 - Chocariffic

Up at a reasonable time. Grab some breakfast with Erik and Kris, and we say our good-byes. They are planning to head to the library for some Internet mooching and to check out a fairly rare book on bicycling Australia. I am going to check out downtown Dunedin and get a haircut. Over the weeks, I have become more and more like Shaggy from Scooby Doo.

I head down around 11AM with Zod. Parking is difficult to say the least, and they definitely like charging for it. I eventually find a spot and head to the i-site.

One thing piques my interest above the rest. Cadbury has a tour down here, as this was the origin of chocolate in New Zealand. Oh, baby.

Head to the library and catch Erik and Kris there. Internet is severely limited there, so I head out. Second good-bye for the day. Find a very nice little barbershop that does a nice job for NZ$12, and I leave a new man.

It is not hard to find the Cadbury factory as it is only about a block away, massive, and mostly purple. I walk in, and my initial expectations of a Gene Wilder-like experience are partially fulfilled. It is a slick place with motorized (maybe REAL!) elves popping out of a massive pile of Cadbury chocolates.

I do not see root beer that makes you fly, but I figure that's later in the tour.

They even have a nifty display where you can try raw chocolate, with ambient bird and jungle noises.

Choc-tastic! But sort of like trying to eat raw coffee beans.

I eagerly pay for my ticket and we are met by a young guy dressed, for all intents and purposes, like Bob the Builder (except in purple). He also has apparently gone to the Disneyworld school of courtesy, because he is sickeningly nice. You get the feeling that he has to compensate for this overextension by indulging in hardcore drugs in his off hours. Actually, probably his work hours.

Mr Oversize Cabbage Patch Doll takes us to another room where we watch a ten-minute brainwash on Cadbury chocolate. I am pretty convinced by the end of this that consuming mass quantities of Cadbury chocolate would solve the Middle East crisis once and for all.

Our group of about 14 is handed hairnets and required to put these on. We are now allowed to make it into the magical world of Cadbury, where I'm sure that the Oompa Loompas are doing cartwheels of excitement in anticipation of watching us swim through a river of chocolate and pick sugar treats from the magical Licorice Trees.

This piece of sexy fashion advice was brought to you by the National Lunchlady's Union.

No cameras, though, are allowed. I guess there must be a trade secret in the way that the Oompa-Loompas care for the Marshmallow Mushrooms or something.

My excitement builds as we walk thorough a hall and stop, then are allowed into the "factory floor". This same excitement is crushed, though, when I see what is inside.

The workers here are not Oompa-Loompas. As a matter of fact, they all look as though they were just forced at gunpoint to EAT an Oompa-Loompa that had not bathed in some time. There is not a joy in making chocolate as much as an automaticity of robotic action that matched the machines.

We do get to see some cool machinery, and they have a "waterfall of chocolate", which is a ton of liquid chocolate recycled over and over again in an abandoned silo that is poured down about 50 feet to impress the tourists. It's cool until I realized that chocolate that's been nice and warm and around as long as this probably would confine you to the bathroom for three days or so, much less taste good.

We do get some samples of chocolate bars, and learn some of the ways chocolate is produced. They do try to spruce the tour-area up a bit by putting large pictures of happy Cadbury elves around, but the general air from those working was that they would rather put the happy cutouts in the chocolate press before actually cracking a smile, so it wasn't quite as effective as it could have been.

I think I have put this tour in more of a negative light than it actually was, but it probably wasn't worth NZ$18 even with all of the candy bribes we received along the way.

Once back to the reality of the street outside, I find a closeby grocery store for lunch fixings and find Kris and Erik again. We say good-bye for a third time today and I head to Zod.

Leaving Dunedin is interesting. I climb the steep and long hill out, and within the space of a kilometer, it goes from city to rural sheep ranches. Amazing how quickly it happens.

The drive out is pleasant, and the day is partly cloudy. Eat a little lunch of hummus and avocado sandwiches (Damn your vegetarian virus, Kris and Erik!) The land is not terribly hilly as I follow the coast, and is mostly grassland and ranch.

I have a thing for lighthouses. So sue me.

Soon enough, I head inland. I am heading for Lake Tekapo, and that means some serious climbing. Again, it doesn't matter that Zod gets passed by everyone - I don't have to personally struggle up these hills, and it feels great. I do, however, miss it a little, even though it hasn't been but a week since the hard core biking. There is something addictive about regular exercise that my body continues to crave, and I reflect at times how good it feels when I have beaten a hill or earned a nice, comfortable downhill. Ah, well.

I finally cross over the pass. The road has been severely rural as the terrain gets more rugged, only seeing a car every 10 minutes or so. The few towns I have passed through have been tiny blips.

This is all OK with me. As much as I love this country, I do prefer being able to get out and away from people, and things are set up so that in most parts, there are lots of smaller towns all over. The south and west of the south island are different, and I am now finding that the interior of the south island shakes this trend as well.

Just before crossing over the pass. Cloudy, cool, and feels remote.

Literally just after crossing over the pass. It was like breaking through a cloud wall. Suddenly I feel really alpine.

The road winds through flatter country now, but with a suggestion of sudden transition ahead as the mountains loom under dark clouds in the distance, and the road is heading right for them.

I just can't escape power lines, even this far from the city.

After around 30km of this comfortable drive, the road makes a sharp left in front of the fantastic Lake Tekapo. This is a glacial lake giving it a deep blue that is reminiscent of the sky.

This bush was AMAZING!

There is a little town here that has a small grocery store, all perched right on the lake shore. The people here are very helpful and give me directions to the road leading to Mt. John. I've been tipped off that there are some good, hidden places to free camp right on the lake from this road. I pick up some avocados, bread, milk, and hummus. I really hate to admit it, but the vegetarian hummus and avocado sandwich is really delicious.

Zod and I are soon off again, passing the other tourist who are walking with their suitcases toward the large and fancy-looking hotel here. Lake Tekapo is right near some prime skiing regions of the south island, and I suspect that this acts like a lodge.

The smaller road is well-marked and very circuitous. It gives some excellent, closer views of the mountains and lake.

Looking over the lake, the mist was pouring actively into the valley. Try to imagine molasses overflowing and you get the idea of the speed.

The road climbed a few hills, then looked down onto what would be camp for the night.

Should be nice, clear skies for checking out the stars tonight. I think I have mentioned that Lake Tekapo is working to become a refuge for preventing artificial light, allowing unfettered night sky viewing. I'm betting that the Mt. John observatory people here have something to do with that movement.

I descend toward the lake, and find a small gravel rut heading toward the shore. Zod has 4WD, but it's actually dry and easily driven with just 2WD. Set up camp right next to the lake as the sun goes down.

The great thing is that "setting up camp" involves putting Zod into "park". That's it. No need for a tent, and my sleeping mattress is already pumped up in the back. Rock on.

It is a very relaxing evening. I also learn a bit about choosing avocados. Bright green means that, if thrown, they could knock someone out from 25 feet, not that they are "fresh". No avocado tonight. Hummus sandwiches it is.

Ten seconds after stopping, camp is up. Refreshing!

As twilight stretches to night, I can start to see how cool it would be to have an area without any artificial lights around. Then I start thinking about the Blair Witch movie, and decide that having some light is, perhaps, a good thing also. The moon soon provides this. It's very relaxing.

Tomorrow, heading toward Kaikura, which is famous for being a spot to swim with dolphins and some cool rugged coastline.

2/16/2009 - What Are the Odds?!

At the expense of ruining the suspense, I will just say now that I am fine and did not need to go to the hospital. You will understand below.

It's a leisurely morning, but camp is packed away eventually and we head to downtown Invercargill where we'll be leaving Zod while biking today. It is going to be a great ride as we are not carrying any baggage or trailers - just naked bikes. It is about 35km each way to Bluff, but we have time. I am a little worried that I am going to get left in the dust, as tandems tend to be faster on the flats and downhill (though at a disadvantage uphill). It is pretty flat to Bluff.

My worries evaporate, however, as we start pedaling. It is so nice to get back in the saddle again. I almost tap my speedometer and GPS to check that the readings are right - we are averaging 18-20mph without even working hard. I hit 33mph on the flat during a little sprint for fun. It is amazing. I have not used the big front chainring on this trip yet, but it is all I use today without any weight on the bike. I feel giddy. Erik, Kris, and I hold a conversation while we bike (and shoulder-willing). The scenery flies by. It takes only an hour to hit Bluff.

Town Motto: "Bluff: The Wart on the Chin of New Zealand"

For being a final destination in New Zealand, Bluff is just plain ugly. Old factories and rusty buildings sit in the background of rotting boats half-buried in the mud next to the road. The water doesn't look clean, and even the roads don't look as kept up as the rest of New Zealand. As we walk up to a store to grab some lunch items, two women that I am pretty sure are prostitutes walk by. (Don't ask me how I know. They may have been local nuns just out for a walk while their shawls were drying, but I have never known nuns to show THAT much behind, or I have been to the wrong churches.)

The actual southernmost point of Bluff is quite nice, though. And it really brings home that I have finished my cycling in New Zealand after around 1400 miles. I suddenly feel elated and ready for the next step in this trip.

Thank God I didn't accidentally put the tearaway bike shorts on today. I did this with the van, as well, but we forgot to get a picture.

If I didn't know he was a vegetarian, I would have said Erik is about to take a bite out of Kris or me. On another note, this is the first time EVER that I was not relegated to the back middle of the picture.

Soon enough, we start back. Erik and Kris really put the hammer down. We get some tailwind and average 23-24mph. I have to really work to keep up this time. It is still exhilarating, though.

We are within a mile of the van - less than a mile from the end of a 1400 mile trip that included hours of narrow, windy, and treacherous roads, massive trucks, and blind one-lane bridges - when it happens. I pull into a roundabout as a white van (without his blinker on) crosses over into my lane without looking. All I can see is flat white paint as I slam on my brakes, giving the van just enough time to get past as I catapult over the handlebars in a (I would like to think) graceful arc with my bike still partially attached to my clips. The bike and I separate somewhere in midair, and I hit and roll across the concrete shoulder-and elbow- first, hearing only the sound of my bike clattering to a stop.

Thankfully, the rest of traffic saw me. The van didn't even slow down. A quick status report from all of my assorted limbs shows that they are accounted for, though my left elbow and knee hurt quite a lot. Erik and Kris hurry over and help me to the side of the road while I recover for a minute and palpate the affected joints. The pain recedes, and I realize that I don't have a mark on me. Isn't this sort of how Clark Kent realized he was Superman? The popping of my elbow returns me to reality.

The bike is fine, and after 2 minutes, I am too. Kris and Erik saw the whole thing, and are very complementary about my full endo.

Make it back to the van without any further fun, though I can't quite straighten my left arm. We load up the bikes and head back to the Velodrome to see it in actual action (as we missed the races yesterday).

It appears to be the national team out practicing, and they are fast. They use a small motorcycle to pace them around and around the track. I have no idea how quickly they are moving, but it suddenly makes the day's cycling look slower.

It doesn't look like much when still, but these guys appear to be just about sideways on the steeper parts of the track. The guy on the motorbike looks like Mac's manager in Mike Tyson's Punch-Out.

Once done with that, it is time to kick back and drive to Dunedin. It stays mostly on the coast, but gets quite hilly the closer we get. It almost looks like pictures of the Scottish highlands in some places, which is appropriate as the founders were Scots.

Just out of Invercargill. This is just so New Zealand.

It is a big city, and we find a campground that is about 4km from downtown. It is getting late by this time, so we grab groceries and Kris and Erik make up a fantastic Mexican vegetarian meal.

It starts dumping down rain before long, so I crawl into my tent early. After all, I need to recover a bit.

Tomorrow, we part ways again. I will be heading to Lake Tekapo, while Kris and Erik will jump back on their bikes. Going to be a long day of driving.

2/15/2009 - Other People's Problems

Par for the course, my patented early-morning wake up device (the lack of air in the air mattress) brought me to full attention by 7AM. Too early, but what can I do. It seems a bit brisk out of the sleeping bag, and opening my tent flap gave me a pretty good clue as to why.

Cubs must've won the World Series.

It's the middle of summer, and here I am wondering if I have an ice scraper.

It is absolutely still, partly due to the lack of wind this morning but mostly due to the lack of motivation in my fellow campers at this DOC site, who are all still snuggled down in their tents. I decide to follow their example for another hour or so.

Transformed. No clouds, no frost. Was I in the right hemisphere an hour ago?!

Tents are put away, breakfast is had, and we prepare to head out on the road. One fine point, though: I forgot to mention in yesterday's entry that, after turning Zod off, I tried to restart it to move a short distance. Barely a crank. Luckily I had found some fellow campers with a jumper cable and the willingness to spend some time out of their chemical-induced haze to kindly jump start my van this morning.

Once they had awoken, we were able to connect things easily. It turned over a bit more, but not enough to start.

Another couple was willing to try their car as well. Same results. I think I stifled a sigh as I realized that my 10 trouble-free days on my bike were coming back, karma-like, to get me.

As I prepared to hitch the 50km back into Te Anau, the people in the car (who were both American) offered to drive me. This was particularly nice because they weren't even headed back to Te Anau. I accepted with no problems.

I had a funny feeling that I had met the pink-haired woman before. As we started chatting, she mentioned working in Motueka. It turns out she was one of the people from the Happy Apple Backpacker's, the place that was (up to recently) owned by the Waldin's (the people who took us in in 1985 near Rotorua). It was a very fun time talking with them both. I also found out that the Chilean lady I did an informal consult on at the Happy Apple Backpacker's for pelvic pain did just fine. Good to get some feedback. She is considering running a backpacker's place and has been working with the new owners of the Happy Apple and appears to be becoming rapidly indispensable.

While they went for coffee, I headed to the local shop at a close-by gas station in Te Anau. The kind lady behind the counter referred me to the back where the mechanic was. He turned out to be a very jovial fellow and was immediately helpful. I was not sure which exact battery I needed, but we came up with one based on one of his manuals. After pulling it off the shelf, he looked thoughtful for a moment and said, "Well, if you have trouble getting this battery to fit, you'll need jumper cables." He pulled out a pair from his truck and handed them to me. "And do you have a spanner?" As I did not, he spent about 5 minutes looking before providing me with an adjustable wrench to help remove the often-difficult bolts on the terminals. When I asked how much it was, he gave me a price, but then fixed me with a searching look and said, "You've got an honest face. Just pay for it when you come back by to drop off the cable and the wrench, in case the battery doesn't fit."

Wow.

Yet another very-helpful Kiwi, named Jock. I feel that his outfit really compliments his name for some reason. I suspect he fights crime when the sun goes down.

After collecting my new friends (and paying for their gas as a thank-you), we headed back to the campsite, and I connected the battery via the cables (as the battery is placed is about the most ridiculous spot imaginable in Zod), and . . Same thing. No start.

We re-hook the battery to the other car again, with their engine going. Not only did my van not start, but right after hooking up the battery, their radiator sprang a nasty leak, sending a jet of green antifreeze back into the engine compartment. It was an old car with a rusty radiator that they had bought for about NZ$700, so it wasn't a surprise, but now THEY were in trouble.

Luckily, Zod came to me with an unused bottle of Radiator Stop-Leak and additional antifreeze. While their engine cooled down, I decided to try one more time with the new battery, spending the time to put it in the Godforsaken little cubbyhole and connecting the terminals directly to it.

Zod stormed to life with nary a blink.

Hallelujah! Life was looking good. We put in the radiator stop leak and new antifreeze/water, and started their car. All good, not a leak. They elected to head to Milford despite their questionable engine, and we followed them for 10km or so to make sure all was well before finally turning back around and heading to Te Anau for the second time that day.

Long story short, I did indeed return to the shop. As I thought, when tested, the old battery was shot. We exchanged the one he had given me for a bigger one, putting me NZ$250 back but returning some peace-of-mind. At last, we were off for Invercargill.

Stopped for lunch at a fantastic picnic area high above the plains and a dam. Mid-lunch, a rented motorhome driven by a young couple pulled in. I walked up to them to tell them that they had a flat right rear tire as they had not noticed. The guy got a combination pained/panicked expression on his face. Erik and I offered to change the tire for him, and he gratefully accepted.

An hour later, substantially dirtier than we had been prior, we waved them off and took off again.

Erik and Kris in Zod, with the recently-fixed motorhome in the background. Not shown: My face when the big motorhome slid forward on the gravel off of the jack while I was getting it off the ground. Luckily the wheel was still in place, so I still have all of my important limbs.

The drive was relaxing. The hills definitely were slow going in Zod's current shape (not unlike my first day of biking), but required no energy output from any of us, so it felt great.

The sausage capital. I don't know, I've been to a few clubs that could give them a run for their money. . .

Around 7:30PM, we rolled into Invercargill. It is too late to try the Bluff ride today, but we'll do it tomorrow. Interestingly, the hostess for the park saw the bikes and suggested we check out the Velodrome that is there as they are doing bike races tonight.

We set up camp quickly and book our way to the Velodrome. We've heard of it before - it is the nicest velodrome in New Zealand, and one of the nicest in the southern hemisphere.

Some of you are no doubt wondering what a velodrome is. Pictures are coming up and really explain it better, but, in short, it is to bicycling what the Indianapolis 500 is for car racing. A bunch of bikes going around in a circle, really fast. The track is banked really steeply, 40-50 degrees at the steepest part. You cannot go slower than about 20mph on the steepest part of the track or you fall. The bikes used are single-speed suckers and weight a fraction of what I have.

We pull up into the parking lot and notice a lot of people leaving. As we start walking, a lady stops us and says,"Are you the two tall Americans that were interested in seeing the Velodrome?" As it turns out, we are. She is the sister of the campground hostess, and had just been texted that we were on our way. Their father is the one that managed to get this built, after 60 years of struggling.

He is there as well, an older man who still bikes and who is one of the most famous bike coaches in New Zealand. We get caught up in the excitement, and they give us an impromptu tour.

The velodrome. It is 250 meters around, indoors, and is all wood. It is really impressive to see.

The man who made it all happen. "LT" are his initials, but for the life of me I cannot remember his name.

Unfortunately, the races just ended, but we check out the entire building, even under the track, and find all of the memorabilia posted around the track - lots of pictures of LT when he used to race competitively.

The picture really says it all. I was crushed to discover that their was a home improvement fair the next day, completely changing the meaning of this sign. Could have been pretty embarrassing to show up in my trademark tearaway bike shorts.

This ends up taking a wonderful hour and a half. Once we have exhausted the building, they say good-bye and we return to camp for another nice vegetarian dinner and some sleep.

Plan is to bike to Bluff and back tomorrow, my last planned bike in New Zealand and completing my bike to what is considered the southernmost spot in New Zealand. Then, a drive to Dunedin where Kris and Erik will start their biking again.