A Winter Odyssey Day 2. The start of a lonely road…

At 5am I rolled up my tent and rode out the camp gates in the darkness. The Rock and Pillar Range rose up before me like an enormous wall. Its crest was barely discernible in the gloom, streaked with lilac snow. Part of me felt like a cop-out. But it was only a small part. After the arduous Dunedin-Middlemarch saga the previous day, my body felt like it had been through a wringer. Every ache reminded me how thankful I was to be getting a lift to Alexandra!

I met Kate at the Kissing gate café, which also happens to be the only café in Middlemarch. After a steaming cuppa, we hitched my bike on the boot-rack and strapped ourselves in for the drive. Kate was a fountain of knowledge and eagerly pointed out landmarks visible from the road; often tiny towns that were relics of the goldrush era. I gazed outside in awe. The scenery reminded me of the English moors; strangely Celtic. Mysterious stone tors dotted the hillsides surrounded by yards of golden tussock, and sunrays plucked rainbows from the mist.

Kate introduced me to her work colleges in Alex who had a good laugh when they learned how we’d met. She insisted I leave my heavy gear in her car while I cycled the Clyde-Alex section of the Rail Trail and back.

Clyde to Alexandra: as pretty as a postcard

Goodness me, it was bliss riding without luggage! So easy! The 8km stretch from Alex to Clyde was as flat as a pancake, meandering past wineries and snow-banded hills. Clyde was a charming, small town with quiet streets and a cute, stone church. At the end of the trail, I found the red box that housed the official ‘Clyde station’ stamp for my diary and wandered around the closed bike hire outfits like a lost lamb. Virtually all cycle businesses had closed for the winter season.

After returning to Alexandra, I explored the local shops and poked around the Hospice second hand store. So many bargains, but alas! The pannier bags for my bike were already bulging like overstuffed Cornish pasties. To my surprise, I was stopped several times by locals for a friendly natter. People were genuinely curious.


I picked up my gear from Kate, thanked her once again for her generosity, and checked into a local campground. Hmmm. To tent, or not to tent? My bones twinged in protest at the thought of sleeping on the cold, hard ground again. Nah, stuff it! I chickened out. ‘Do you have any alternatives to camping? Like a dorm bunk, or hut for a single person?’ I asked the receptionist.

‘Yes, we’ve got just the thing. We call it the Rabbit Hut. $40 per night. There’s a mini fridge, bed, and heater.’

‘Sounds perfect! I’ll take it please.’ My grin spread from ear to ear. Woohoo luxury!


I’ve squeezed my bike inside so I can sleep soundly in the knowledge it wont go ride-abouts overnight. The heater is on a timer, and I find myself pushing the ‘on’ switch like an addicted lab rat.

Now I’m sitting in bed writing as night brings an icy chill. The silence reminds me of my own solitude. There’s no doubt that you learn a lot about yourself by travelling alone. But I do think solo travel is somewhat over-rated. In my mind, part of the joys of travel- and life – is being able to laugh about your experiences with others, enjoy the banter, and not take yourself too seriously.

I’m excited to ride into the unknown tomorrow! From what I saw on the drive here, it will be a ride to remember. I hope the hills are merciful. Although I don’t know where I’ll end up, it’s refreshing not to be bound by commitments and plans.

Continue…

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Read about my expecting adventure from Alexandra to Oturehua

Previous diary entry: Dunedin to Middlemarch

Want more information?
See the Otago Rail Trail Official Website
Trail Journeys also provide an excellent overview of cycle routes in the South Island.