Nelson to Picton

An early start required, we rustled up some eggs in the Hostel’s kitchen. Checking the weather forecast, we discovered the day was going to be a rainy one and still very wet from overnight rain and due to continue all day. Setting off clad in full waterproofs, we cycled along the commuter path out of Nelson up to Atawhai, where we joined Highway 6 (which we would follow for the next 35 miles to Pelorus Bridge). To say we had some trepidation for the days ride would be true, from our experience of highways and this was a main trunk road to the ferry to Wellington on North Island via Picton and also south to Blenheim.

Lack of engaging photographs for this leg are the result of crappy weather and a reluctance to stop as we cycled single file, pulling into the road side where we could to allow the big trucks to pass. Some vehicle drivers seemed not to take account of the conditions, or adjust their speed and driving style accordingly, and there were some scary moments where there was just a handspans distance between us and zooming metal.

The day’s two big climbs were hard. The first consisted of 6 miles of very windy wiggly road with tight bends and blind corners. Rain persisted, the road gutters became streams and the lying water made progress seem slow, wheels flinging up water droplets. The descent coincided with a heavier shower and the rain drops pummelled hard and stingy on our faces as we sped downhill.

We stopped to have a damp sandwich in the first and only covered place we spotted for miles. This was a small wooden shack offering bagged lemons for five dollars (via the honesty box). The ‘lemon shack’ just about big enough to provide us a refuge. “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade” goes the saying. We skulked beneath the tin roof listening to the raindrops drum away, feeling ever so damp and procrastinating for as long as possible. Not really in the mould of the above proverb!

Post nosebag and back on the bikes, we headed into climb number two, pedalling slowly up and over Rai Saddle with a bit of extra gusto from the egg mayonnaise.

Approaching the small hamlet of Rai Valley, signs for a cafe boosted our mood. At The Brick Oven Cafe, we leant our bikes under the awning, peeled off wet waterproofs and went inside to dry off. A hot pie, some chips and a couple of coffees served by the friendly lasses were most welcome and after filling our boots, we felt a bit cheerier.

The last few miles riding alongside the densely forested Tin Line Reserve, the afternoon now getting greyer with dimming light, we passed the sign for Pelorus Bridge where we were due to camp. Riding across the bridge spanning the gushing blue water of the Te Hoiere river, the entrance to the DoC Campsite was very welcome.

We went to the office to register and rang the bell to speak to the ranger to check if we could take a pitch that was dry or camp undercover somewhere, and if the wet weather had caused any issues. A man appeared (who seemed not to be expecting campers and garbled some info to us - kitchen block open 👍, showers working 👍 - and acknowledged that we could camp on the decking next to the kitchen.
Cycling down the gravel road, towards the river, and with the knowledge that the site had been flooded the week before, we were glad we could camp up on the kitchen decking. We hoped with all the rain that the river below wouldn’t flood again while we were there.

As it was quiet, we both agreed to camp inside the kitchen (instead of outside on the decking) and set up our tent between two benches, happy in knowing our tent would be dry at least. Checking out the ablutions, we found the showers were a no go, as they were being refurbished after the floods and had a strong unpleasant smell of adhesive. Dust covered everything. As darkness fell outside, we prepared our tea and then some folks appeared at the door - a young French couple had arrived in a camper van. They came in to make a meal and we exchanged a few words whilst eating and it was very pleasant to chat. They retired to their van and we wished each other well and to take care in the horrible weather. Settling down in our sleeping bags, the rain still falling, Amanda made a call to set our alarm for 1am and 3am to get up and go and check the river level with a head torch (just to be safe).

After a broken nights sleep and relieved to see the river was still where it should be (higher and muddier than yesterday) we breakfasted and were on the road by 8am keen to complete the next bit of highway before the heavier rain forecast later in the day.

Cycling along the highway, the river valley opened up as the river flowed into an open plain and finally into Pelorus Sound. We reached the town of Havelock. where we would get off the highway and follow a quieter scenic road around the coast all the way to Picton.
Havelock is the home of the green mussel and little sculptures and pictures of them are everywhere - on signs, on buildings and even on the police station. There is an annual mussel festival and the green shelled mussel is unique to New Zealand. The only muscles for us were leg muscles! Stopping at the Sneaky Beach Cafe, Amanda read in a paper of further devastation from extreme weather in the Tasman region, where we had cycled only a few days ago. With many roads including the main highway flooded and impassable, and villages cut-off, we thought about the people in the places we visited and also that we had been lucky to travel when we did.

We turned onto the scenic Queen Charlotte Drive and climbed to get great views as the road rose high above Pelorus Sound on our left. Twisting and turning for the next 20 miles or so, we enjoyed this section enormously - the rain had subsided a wee bit and the steep sided hills covered with trees and foliage dropped into the sound. The road wound its way around the coast, and we cycled above sandy bays - Okiwa Bay, Momorangi Bay, Ngaguta Bay and Whenuanui Bay, some with houses peppering the hill side, some clinging to the steep slopes and others nestled in the small coves. Looking exclusive and pricy, some had boats moored offshore and a few of them had smoke rising from their chimneys - what a beautiful place to live.

We cycled through several stop and go road repair sections where the road had slipped and fallen away or the bank had collapsed and was under repair. The maintenance of this road is some doing and must take a lot of work.
Reaching Shakespeare Bay, we had one last major hill and we could now see a view of Picton harbour in the distance. 6 miles to go and a short rise over the final crest we stopped at the scenic overlook to Picton, the large logging yard with piles and piles of stacked tree trunks ready for transport, the Cook Strait Ferries in their docks (we would be catching the Bluebridge Ferry in couple of days) and the town beyond. We paused only briefly, as the rain was now bouncing down and getting harder. Keen to get to our accommodation for the night, we headed into town with the strange sensation of this being our last port of call on South Island.Leggi altro