8 March 2025
After the Old Ghost Road, it felt wonderful to ride along the coast stopping at little cafes for meat pies, cookies, and coffee. While everyone hears about the Great Tracks of the country, no one talks about the glorious "Toastie." I ate them throughout my trip and while you may call it a grilled cheese, the flavors were next level. Toasties with dill pickles, ham, and shallots. Toasties with spicy fig jam, arugula, and caramelized onions. Toasties with brisket, 3 kinds of cheese, tomato jam, and pineapple. Grilled cheese will never be the same. I digress. I found a perfect spot to camp on the beach and shared a fire with some van campers and some beta about the upcoming Paparoa Track.
The next morning, I biked into town, walked around Pancake Rocks- well worth it, stopped at the visitor center and snagged the last spot at the Poroari Hut, just 9.5 miles up the trail for the night. Onward and upward to experience hut life.
Not so sure about hut life. Overlooking the Tasman Sea, its a beautiful location without a doubt, but 20 people share the hut each night sometimes there are bunk beds (this is preferable) and other times there is just a platform that everyone lays on together. These tracks are in such high demand that there is a lottery just to get a spot in the huts. Unbeknownst to me, there is a little grumbling from some towards bikers that "just come in to do it fast and they take all the hiker spots." Fortunately, everyone comes because they love spending time in the mountains and common ground is easily found.
The trail from the Paparoa hut was really fun to ride. I was going the opposite way it's normally ridden but I thought it was super enjoyable. The trail crosses under a waterfall on a swing bridge, and passes under and through boulders, feeling more like a playground than a trail. On the high ridge, I opted to take the 29 Pike Memorial Trail instead of following the standard route down. For bikers, this is a very good choice.
In 2010 the Pike River Mine exploded, trapping and killing 29 men. The mine site and surrounding area has become part of the Paparoa National Park and the memorial trail was completed in 2024. It was machine built with both mountain bikes and hikers in mind. Every berm and swoop and bunny jump of the 2,000' decent was an absolute joy.
It was a bit of a haul to get out of the mountains and down to Greymouth to start the West Coast Wilderness Trail. I was ready for some easy miles and the West Coast trail was perfect. It winds down the beach, through beautiful, flat forest, along canals, past lakes, and has an explicable section of twisty switchbacks that ends in an amazing bike shelter. At 4pm it was drizzling but a little early to stop for the day. Heavy rain was forecast and the shelter was perfect... Screw it. I pitched my tent without the fly (to escape the evening sand flies but minimize the humidity) and settled into a long evening of soup and chilling.
A bike racer doing the Te Araroa, a 1900 mile self supported race down the entire length of New Zealand rolled up. I had been meeting lots of other cyclists doing this route along my way and their enthusiasm (and fatigue) was contagious. He went back and forth trying to decide if he should camp or go. After a quick change of his wet clothes, decided to press on. 30 minutes later the skies opened up and the rain came down in sheets for hours. I ended up having coffee with him in town the next day because he arrived soaked to the bone and checked into a hotel for the night to dry out.
Finally the rain let up and a guy in a truck pulled around to let me know he would be doing a few patrols for the red deer during the night and didn't want to freak me out. He jumped out of his rig wearing a rain coat and no pants- I suppose he could have had some super short running shorts on in there, and muck boots. He introduced himself as Jaz and asked if I wanted to take a run up the road to go look at the herd. Of course! Up the road we bounced and there were 150 or so little red deer hanging out in the green meadows. Jaz explained he was just watching the deer for a friend who was in jail because his giant underground marijuana growing operation got busted. I always appreciate someone willing to help out a friend and it was very sweet of him to give me a heads up so I didn't have a heart attack when he drove by at 3am.
13 March 2025
I finished the West Coast Trail in Ross and my hotel room cost as much as the 2 glasses of wine I had at the end of the day. It was not nice wine. Back on pavement, I rode 67 miles to Franz Joseph, a town right at the toe of a glacier, and found a hostel. There was a hot tub in the middle of the hostel parking lot which initially seemed kinda cool, especially since the trees were full of beautiful and endangered Kea parrots! The fact that the trees overhung the hot tub, birds poop a lot, and so many young backpackers don't always have the best hygiene made it much more entertaining to watch the parking lot shenanigans rather than take part.
My next move was to get over the mountains 250 miles to Waneka. All on a narrow road and more rain in the forecast. Buses and bikes did not sound easily compatible so hitch hiking mid morning was my plan.
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