A Winter Odyssey Day 3. Into the mists…

I woke to the jingle of my alarm, clicked on the heater for the 50th time, and eagerly packed my bags. The campground was eerily silent, and I didn’t see another soul as I led my bike past the caravans and icy cabins to the start of the trail. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect on the Otago Rail Trail route from Alexandra to Oturehua, but going into the unknown only made it more exciting. Needless to say, it was freezing! I was rugged up to the eyeballs- two pairs of gloves, a beanie under my helmet, a scarf, thermal top, long sleeved shirt, woollen jumper, jerkin jacket, a wind-proof jacket, jeans, thick socks and runners.

Kate, the lovely lady who’d helped me the previous day, was right about the Alex-Oturehua section of the trail. It was stunning. Rabbit tails flashed in the scrub, and kāhu (harrier hawks) hung in the mists like stealth craft. Imposing rock formations reminded me of citadels, like something straight from Lord of the Rings. I must admit, the quiet was disconcerting at first, but it wasn’t long before my ears detected the honks of paradise ducks, twitters of chaffinches, and bleats of sheep that munched icicle-grass somewhere beyond the fog. When I wasn’t contemplating life, my head filled with an endless soundtrack of songs. I’d recently been going through a Flight of the Concords phase, and began to peddle in time with songs like Carol Brown, Inner City Pressure, and Friends… bom, bom, bom, ping!

The frigid air burnt the inside of my throat, and the cloud that escaped my lips with every breath would have been the envy of any vaper. I watched incredulously as ice formed on the hair poking from under my beanie, the outside of my gloves and even the bike handlebars.

The trail made gentle dips and bends before sweeping up Tiger Hill, the steepest part of the trail. Since the ORT was formerly a railway, the gradient was never too arduous. But the slopes were gradual and enduring, and I hopped off the bike several times to give my jelly legs a break. I spied a bench just in time before my knee gave out, and noticed that it was inscribed with an Irish Blessing:

‘May the Road Rise up to meet you, may the wind be always at your back, may the sun shine down upon your face, and may God hold you in the hollow of his hand.’

I’d sung this at primary school nearly ten years ago and couldn’t help smiling with amazement. Out of all the places I expected to find it again, here would have been my last choice!

Omakau to Lauder

I reached Omakau at around 1pm and was overjoyed to see an open café and supermarket. And people! A hot chai defrosted my fingers. The locals really did eyeball me, I almost felt like a celebrity. Almost. Or perhaps they thought I was just a but loopy.

On the map, the trail passes through places I assumed would be bustling towns. In reality, some were only marked by stamp box and not much else aside from pretty views- e.g. Galloway and Chatto Creek. Most pubs, cafes and facilities close over winter, and I found it challenging to find places to refill water bottles (which froze anyway).

The fog thinned at Lauder (pronounced ‘louder’ I believe), a rural town where deer grazed on the hillsides. The stunning Ida Ranges watched solemnly from a distance. Their barren slopes were dusted with snow. I was taking a video of the scene with my camera when it unexpectedly shut down. Turns out the battery had frozen!

The stunning views around Poolburn Gorge motivated me to keep going, even though my left knee was beginning to twinge with pain. I passed under viaducts, through pitch-black tunnels, and impressive clefs hewn by the hands of the railway workers themselves.

As daylight dwindled…

Night quickly descended and to my growing frustration, I still hadn’t reached Oturehua. Every stroke of the peddle seemed to require superhuman strength, and my gasps swirled in the wake of the bike like smoke.

It was dark by the time I staggered inside the Oturehua Railway Hotel. The three locals inside turned around in surprise. A fire crackled in the corner, illuminating the interior in a cozy orange glow. The two men at the bar gave me a friendly smile. They raised their eyebrows when I told them I’d ridden from Alexandra. ‘That’s a fair ways-away. Good on ya,’ they nodded.


I enquired whether they offered accommodation at the hotel. There was no way I’d be setting up the tent tonight, although I felt silly for bringing it all this way and hardly using it. ‘We’re not set up for accommodation, but there’s a backpackers down the road,’ one of them replied. ‘I’ll give them a ring.’

I thanked the generous locals profusely and followed their directions. The grass crunched underfoot as I pulled up outside Crow’s Nest Backpackers. The owners were lovely and welcoming, and quickly showed me around the hostel. It was a homely, two-storey house with bunks, a lounge, kitchen and plenty of heaters. I’m the only one staying here.

Now, I’m sitting over a steaming cuppa with my feet poked by the heater, beside the French doors that look into blackness. It’s moments like these when you really appreciate the small things in life: hot water, food, a source of heat. Even just having the time to sit and ponder without a to-do list. My heart is glows with a mixture of contentment and gratitude. My ride from Alexandra to Oturehua was rather meditative, filled with inspiring sights and internal revelations. I’ve crossed paths with so many kind, generous people these last few days- the sort who went out of their way to help without expecting anything in return.

Continue…

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Read about the adventure from Oturehua to Daisybank

Previous diary entry: Clyde to Alexandra

Find out more information about the Otago Rail Trail by visiting the official website