A Winter Odyssey Day 6. Rocks, towel-mops and wet socks…

What’s that noise? It sounds like Armageddon out there! I woke with a start. The entire tent shook as rain thundered down with the hiss of a snare drum. The gusts were so strong, the tent literally imploded like somebody was punching in the walls. Well, I won’t get back to sleep with this racket. Accepting defeat, I felt around for my headtorch in the darkness and gasped as its sterile light illuminated the interior. There was a reason why everything I touched was wet… Curtains of water were pouring down the tent walls, and small drips were trickling onto the floor from the seams.

I numbly pulled my valuables onto my sleeping mat, now a raft marooned in rainwater. Part of me wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. I only had myself to blame for buying a paper-thin tent, thinking I was Bear Grylls or something. I soaked up the ocean with my towel and dirty clothes. The downpour halted as soon as it began and I tried to go back to sleep, but a single patter on the roof sent a jolt of fear up my spine. I didn’t want to be caught out by another nasty surprise!

Getting to Sutton Salt Lake

Sutton is a rural settlement 10km south of Middlemarch and home to New Zealand’s largest inland saltwater lake. Largest inland saltwater lake? Wow! I had to see it. The wind was ferocious, but I gritted my teeth and cycled the maze of gravel roads leading to the blue spec on the map.

Eventually, I reached a reserve off Kidds Road and followed the track to the lake. ‘Lake’ might be too generous a term; when I first saw it, the word ‘pond’ sprung to mind. But it was still impressive, surrounded by magnificent ranges, stone tors, sheep and tussock. My eyes picked out the forms of elephants, birds and faces in the stacks of schist. A geologist would be in heaven here. Even now, I find it hard to picture what this region looked like before the land was cleared for farming. Apparently, it was once covered in lush forests like the Catlins. Imagine!

The track was quite boggy in places, and I noticed matagouri/wild Irishman (Discaria toumatou) growing in tufts along the trail, a scraggily shrub with impressive thorns as long as your pinkie finger.

Sutton Salt Lake. In summer, it’s not uncommon for the lake to dry up completely.

A tough ride: Sutton to Middlemarch

If you’ve ever cycled in gale-force winds head on, you’ll know the frustration of putting every ounce of energy into the peddles and reaching a top speed of one inch per second. Going from Sutton to Middlemarch, a mere 14km, was ironically just as draining as cycling 80km from Dunedin to Middlemarch. Katabatic winds screamed over the Rock and Pillar Range and slammed into me with the force of 10 tonnes.

Now, I’m probably coming across as a bit of a grump here, which couldn’t be further from the truth. In reality, I can find the bright side to a black hole. I always see the glass as half-full, look on the bright side etc. However, as I squelched along the highway like an extra from a dystopian feature film, my optimism shrivelled up like a tomato peel in the sun. Predictably, the heavens split open and the s*** bucketed down. Needless to say, I was barely holding it together at this point.

By the time I reached Middlemarch, my clothes clung like a second skin and I was shivering. Maggie’s Dairy was my first stop. I needed a plastic bag for my wet gear, and the kindly shop lady gave me one for free. To my good fortune, I fossicked around my wallet and found enough $2 coins to feed the campground washing machine and dryer. Score!!!

I’m currently waiting for the drying cycle to end from the comfort of the tent. Of course, now that I’m cozy and warm, I’m glad I made the effort to visit Sutton. All’s well that ends well, right?

Ah, but it’s not quite the end. Not yet. I’m meeting Kate at the café early tomorrow and am eager to tell her about my travels.

A note on Middlemarch attractions & services

Middlemarch is best known for the Otago Rail Trail, the Annual Single’s Ball, and rocky mountain skies. In the township there are several cycling related stores, a museum, and a gift shop in the railway station, although these are closed in winter. The Kissing Gate Café is a reliable source of good food and grub, and the Strath Taieri offers pints and pub tucker. Maggie’s Dairy has the essentials you might need.

The sense of isolation here is profound. Otago is often called ‘big-sky country,’ and indeed, once you step under these yawning heavens, you feel like a grain of sand on this this wide, brown land.

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• Want to discover more top attractions near Middlemarch? Check out an article on the Best Activities in Middlemarch
• Exploring further afield in the Maniototo? Discover highlights and attractions at the Central Otago website