Day 4. A winter wonderland…

6:40am. It’s so cozy under my blankets, the prospect of another day in the deep-freeze makes my skin crawl. But the sooner I leave, the sooner I’ll get to Daisybank. My goal was to complete the next section of the Otago Rail Trail from Oturehua to Daisybank, and finally make use of my tent at the freedom camping site.

Twenty minutes later and I was in the kitchen boiling water for my thermos and mug of tea. There’d been a super frost overnight, and the cabin roofs outside were chalky white. A ghostly mist hung in the air like a shroud. I paid up, had a friendly natter to the owners, and examined the thermometer under the patio. Lucky I didn’t camp last night! It dropped to -9°C.

Oturehua Highlights

You can’t visit Oturehua without visiting the iconic Gildchrists General Store on the highway. Once again, I was struck by the friendliness of Central Otago locals who enthusiastically showed me around the 1899 interior. As New Zealand’s longest continually running general store, the shelves of Gilchrist’s hold vintage artifacts sold since its establishment in 1902. It reminded me of a museum, but better. You know that the items on display, whether it’s the pair of leather ice-skates, tobacco pipe or ceramic pottle of toothpaste, are situated where they were brought and sold. They haven’t been removed from where history took place.

I returned to the trail warm, well fed and in high spirits. Whenever I came across signs exalting the stunning views, I couldn’t help but snigger. It was impossible to see more than a few metres ahead because of the fog. The load on my bike sapped my energy like a vampire, and my dodgy left knee twinged on every stroke of the peddle. I’d never injured it, so why it was giving me this sort of punishment was beyond me!

But perhaps the vicious thing was the cold. I thought the chill yesterday was freezing… but this was a whole new level. The temperature here was nothing like I’d ever experienced. You can’t stop for long, because the ice leaches into your bones, your muscles clench, and you begin shaking all over. No, it’s better to keep riding, no matter how tired your legs feel…

Towards Wedderburn

Kate had told me that in Scottish-Gaelic, ‘burn’ means ‘stream,’ which I recognised in many of the local place names; Idaburn, Wedderburn, Poolburn. As I continued, signs became hard to decipher as they were caked with ice, and the air around me grew progressively heavy. It was all worth it to witness the winter-wonderland around me, which I photographed with numb fingers. The camera shut down several times and I realised the battery had almost frozen.

I had a bizarre experience before reaching Wedderburn. Blue skies peaked through the fog, and I rounded a corner sandwiched between two paddocks. Suddenly, about 20 blackbirds swooped across the trail before me and I glanced to my right. My heart stopped for a moment. There above me hovered a brilliant, white arc.

I rubbed my eyes. Maybe I really am finally going crazy. It was a white rainbow, aka a ‘fogbow’. I snapped a few photos as proof I wasn’t delusional. That moment has always stuck in my mind as the closest thing I’ve experienced to pure magic.

The large Red Barn at Wedderburn was closed, and I didn’t see another soul. I imagined it would be a lovely place to stop in the warmer, busier seasons, but for now the winds licked the wooden fences with a lonely sigh. The trail went on and on, and I absently noted the concrete markers counting the kilometres that passed.

Ranfurly

Ranfurly was the most substantial town I’d visited since Alexandra with cafes, a 4-square, I-site and op-shop. I headed to the I-site. My plan had been to return to Dunedin on the Taieri Gorge Train at Middlemarch, as you can bring your bike on board. I asked the lady at the I-site if she could help me book a seat, and her smile collapsed. ‘Oh I’m sorry, the train isn’t running for another week and a half. The track’s closed for maintenance.’


Oh no. ‘Is there any other way to Dunedin then?’ I asked. The thought of riding the hideous 80km Middlemarch-Dunedin stretch again made my heart stink.

‘You could hitch a ride, I suppose,’ she added. ‘There are taxis, although they’d probably cost a few hundred dollars. I don’t know any shuttles that operate in winter.’


‘Oh well then. Thanks for your help.’ I took a seat outside the train station and stressfully munched on crackers and sachets of peanut butter I’d swiped from my college hall. What on earth should I do now? I wondered. How do I get back to Dunners?

At least I had plenty of time to stew over my predicament in the hours of riding ahead. Out of Ranfurly, I was stunned to see another figure coming head on through the mist. It was a grey-haired man out on a day ride. Our eyes widened at the sight of one another. Another human? We grinned manically. The man threw back his head as we laughed in surprise. ‘Are we crazy, or just plain mad?’ he joked. He would be the only other rider I’d ever see.

Artifacts on the Otago Rail Trail

The rail trail has a number of curiosities. First are the Red Grangers’ sheds that offer information about the wilderness, local history and facts about the trail. Next are the model planets spaced out across the trail. Called the ‘Otago Central Interplanetary Cycle Trail,’ the idea is that you journey through a 100 million to 1 accurate scale of the solar system. A large model of the sun is at Ranfurly. Smaller scale models of the other planets are spaced from there; Neptune is at Middlemarch, Pluto at Alexandra. It’s a clever idea, giving you a real sense of the astounding distances of the universe. 

I passed Waipīata (wai: water, pīata: shining) a quaint rural town. A pro-tip: I’d heard on the grapevine that the local Country Hotel offers excellent Kiwi tucker for dinner. The next station was Kokonga, meaning ‘corner’ in Māori, likely named after the crook in the river.

An evening at Daisybank

The trail verged close to the Taieri River at Daisybank, and there was no sign of human habitation at this freedom camping site, only a drop loo and picnic table. I set up my tent under the trees out of sight from the trail. My stomach knotted with anxiety. Being alone adds a level of fear to any adventure. Being a young girl adds another. What if some psycho finds me? I’m in the middle of nowhere. There was patchy mobile reception, and nobody nearby to call for help.

I trekked down to the riverbank to clean my shoes and bike and noticed a set of fresh boot-prints in the sand. Creepy. I was not alone, but now I began to wish I was.

I brushed away my worries and returned to the tent. The thermos I’d filled at Crow’s Nest was still warm from Oturehua. I made some packet soup and munched on snacks for dinner.

Now I’m huddled in my sleeping bag, shivering uncontrollably. The grass and nettles under the tent floor offer the most delicious padding for these sore bones. My top regret so far is not buying a more comfortable bike seat- I suspect mine is designed for men. It might sound strange, but I’m happy to be here, even though I do miss the comforts of Dunedin: the warmth, food, and familiar faces. Every time I hear a noise outside, I’m reminded of the giant footprints in the riverbank. But I’m not too concerned. I feel confident that nobody else is crazy enough to be outside in this chilling cold.

Continue…

> NEXT post here
Read about my trip from Daisybank to Middlemarch

Previous diary entry: Alexandra to Oturehua

• For more information on the Otago Rail Trail, I recommend visiting the official website
• Ngā Haerenga – New Zealand Cycle Trail also has a good overview of attractions and highlights