Murchison to North coast

1 July - Murchison to Kawatiri…

We spent a sunny ☀️ happy morning in Murchison. A rural service town for the surrounding farming district it is halfway on our route between west and north coasts. With a big population of 650 it felt hip and happening.

Everyone we met was extremely friendly, and unbidden offered help and useful information. As we were standing by our bikes a man came over to say we could stay at his tonight if needed (!), the local shop staff volunteered news the Braeburn Track we intended to take up to Kawatiri had been swept away by the floods, and ladies in the museum phoned a helpline on our behalf to find out about road closures.

In the Rivers Cafe we made new plans to negotiate flooding/road detours over excellent coffee - Amanda having hers ‘tulip size’ (small medium cup) - and with the best biscuits we’ve ever tasted: almond and orange chewy mouth-watering brilliance.

Plans made, we wandered across the road to the village museum which was a total treat, a treasure trove of interesting artifacts, suspect taxidermy, and information.

Some museum snippets:
• The manual Telephone Exchange only closed in Dec 1987 when the people in Murchison said goodbye to the sociable party line, for automatic individual lines. When it closed, nine staff were made unemployed with little prospects. “I might get my old gold pan out and try my luck down the river," one ex-operator said.
• Murchison experienced a major earthquake in 1929 measuring 7.8 on the Richter scale. Seventeen people lost their lives: 3rd deadliest earthquake in NZ’s history.
• The world's earliest suicide bomber is believed to have occurred in Murchison in 1905. A long-standing dispute between two farmers over cattle stealing resulted in a court case. The accused became so angry at the whole proceedings, he tied explosives to himself and threatened to blow up the judge: “I'll blow the devil to hell, and I have enough dynamite to do just that". Luckily, he was persuaded outside before he could detonate the charge. “The farmer appearing to be here one moment and completely disappearing the next.”

It was a joy to cycle in the sun when we finally took leave of lovely Murchison. The road itself though was not fun, being narrow with cars that gave little quarter, a sore knee, and a constant ascent. Still, not too far, only 22 miles today. Unfortunately Kawatiri was not a great DoC campsite, being next to the busy highway. So we hid behind the only tree-cover and made do, feeling like the thundering trucks going past were coming right through the tent. Cold bright frosty starry night: Milky Way arcing above.

2 July - Weds. Kawatiri to Tapawera…
Cold start - 1 degree - but once on the road the sun came out and burnt off the damp low cloud making the mist swirl amongst the trees. We were both glad to get off highway 6 onto the ‘Dry Weather Track’ a long downhill all the way into Tapawera. Tapawera is becoming known as the ‘Hops Capital of NZ,’ with a significant hop growing industry evident in all the large fields roundabouts.

Forecasts of heavy rain falling on already saturated ground spurred anxiety about more flooding/road closures, so we’d booked an Airbnb for two nights giving us a welcome ‘day off’ after 6 days of cycling. Met Rachel (from Shropshire) at the Airbnb which had been built by her husband David’s parents. David is a sculptor and Amanda went to look around their Hidden Sculpture Garden. Sadly the flood had put the garden completely underwater, with many of the sculptures - David’s and other NZ artists - washed away. Luckily one piece worth $8000 they’d managed to salvage!

3 July - Thurs. Tapawera Airbnb...
So nice to wake to hear the rain - outside! - and have coffee in bed. Little luxuries. Planning day and drying clothes, tent, etc.

4 July - Fri. Tapawera to Mārahau…
A day cycling in the rain beside the still raging Motueka River we witnessed significant flood damage. Sobering to see the aftermath of the brute force of nature’s strength. At Tapawera bridge huge uprooted tree debris had been dropped by the receding waters on the exposed riverbed. Trees snapped along the riverbanks like matchsticks, one house’s entire drowned possessions piled in a ruined heap outside their home, a large shed having been swept along by the power of the water now left incongruously in an open field. With all the devastation we were impressed how quickly the road had been reopened: in a matter of days the road had been cleared of landslides, fallen trees, and silt where it had been flooded.

After cycling through a lot of commercial orchards, reaching the north coast felt like a real milestone! Even when we couldn’t really see the sea through the rainy murk 😆. Arriving at dusk in Mārahau, soaked through, we were delighted to check into our accommodation and peel off wet clothes into warm dry ones. We were looking forward to our walks in Abel Tasman National Park in the next couple of days!Leggi altro