Otago Central Rail Trail – Day 2

On Thursday 3 April, we rode the second day of the Otago Central Rail Trail. The blog post of the first day is here.

Day 2 – Ophir to Wedderburn

We woke to a clear, crisp, and quite nippy morning – typical Central Otago. But oh, ouch, my thigh muscles! I had trouble sitting down and getting up. Where was my Anti-Flamme, when I needed it? Ah, yes, it was sitting in a bag in our car, miles away. Fat lot of use that was, when I needed it HERE, NOW, to soothe my sore muscles!

Oh well, can’t be helped, let’s get on with the day – we have 45 km to cover! We bade farewell to Steve, our host, and biked off towards Omakau. It was chillier than I had thought, and I stopped to put on an extra layer.

Steve took this picture of us outside his hotel (with John’s camera)

A beautifully clear and crisp – and chilly! – Central Otago morning (photo by John)

We took the other route to Omakau, over the modern bridge. It wasn’t very far (2.5 km), and though we’d had breakfast not so very long ago, we stopped at the Muddy Creek Café for some proper coffee. The one bad thing about Blacks Hotel was that the only coffee available there was some execrable instant variety!

John was quite taken with this collection of vintage radios in the Muddy Creek Café
 (photo by John)

Fortified by coffee and a shared muffin, we went off to check out the Omakau railways goods shed, and to stamp our trail passports.

The Omakau Railway Station was built in 1904, and was once one of the busiest stock loading stations in NZ. Rather than building a railway bridge across the river to Ophir – which was then a thriving town – it was decided to create a town on this side instead.

The board tells us that we’re 36 km down, and 115 km to go! (photo by John)

Inside the Omakau Station goods shed

And so, off towards Lauder. It was quite a nice ride, though slightly uphill, just 7 km through farmland. On the way, we crossed Muddy Creek Road, by going through an underpass; and Muddy Creek itself, by going over a bridge.

The Muddy Creek Road underpass (photo by John)

The bridge over Muddy Creek (photo by John)

Near Lauder is an important atmospheric measuring station – one of 15 stations in a world-wide network, and the most important one in the Southern Hemisphere. Lauder has one of the cleanest and most pollution-free atmospheres in the world. Apparently NIWA’s research dome can be seen from the trail, but we didn’t see it.

When we got to Lauder, we thought we would just stamp our passports, and not stop for coffee. But we talked to some other cyclists who said “The next bit is the most interesting part of the trail, and that will be the place to have a picnic. Have you brought your picnic?” No, of course we hadn’t, so we stopped at the café and bought some sandwiches to take away.

Some railway relics in the yard of the Lauder Café. The builder in the background is building
 a new “old” house!

Before long we crossed the Manuherikia No 1 Bridge. At 110 m long and 14 m high, it is an impressive structure. Completed in 1903, it has concrete pillars and is built on a curve.

The Manuherekia No 1 Bridge

The bridge is built on a curve and has concrete pillars (photo by John)

The landscape became more dramatic. Lots of jagged schist outcrops on the side of the river. Some of the rocks next to the trail looked like they had been sliced with a chainsaw, with one relatively smooth surface, and all jagged on the other face. In some places, you could see where the rock had just fractured, and the broken bit was below the main rock. John thought that this was a natural feature, not man-made.

Rugged rocks above the river

Huge blocks of schist with unusually smooth end surfaces (photo by John)

John takes a closer look at some rocks

This one looks like Darth Vader!

We were now entering the Poolburn Gorge, which is a break in the mountains between the Raggedy Range and Blackstone Hill. It leads from the Manuherekia River Valley to the Ida Valley.

Entering the Poolburn Gorge (photo by John)

Looking back to the fertile Manuherekia Valley and the Dunstan Mountains beyond (photo by John)

It is a deep gorge, with the valley and river down on the left side of us, and high rocks on the right and embankments bridging the many gullies.

Down in the valley, by the river, the willows were starting to turn yellow

I was imagining the incredibly hard work those pioneering railway builders must have had to do, to build this railway in such a harsh environment – with nothing more than picks and shovels, wheelbarrows and horse and carts. Apparently, it took 300 men three years to build the Poolburn Gorge section of the Otago Central Railway, which includes two tunnels.

The Poolburn gangers’ shed had a fireplace in it – probably very necessary in the winter.

John arrived at Tunnel No 2 ahead of me. There was a narrow path up the hill from the tunnel, which he climbed while waiting for me to catch up.

The trail skirts along the hillside of the Poolburn Gorge towards the first tunnel (photo by John)

The entrance to the tunnel (photo by John)

As we arrived at the tunnel, we met a couple going in the opposite direction, who were riding electric bikes. They were riding to Lauder and back to Hayes, near Oturehua, where they had left their motor home. They were doing the Rail Trail in several there-and-back sections – each time returning to their motor home to camp overnight, and driving to the next section the next day. They took the bikes with them in a trailer.

The electric bikes are quite sturdy – and heavy! (photo by John)

This tunnel was the longer one of the two, 226 m, with a curve in it, so you couldn’t see the exit, and very dark inside. We walked the tunnel, and played with shadow photos. Our strong new torches worked a treat.

In the tunnel, John took a photo of his own shadow, while I held the torch (photo by John)

By the exit of the tunnel, there was an information board about the tunnels’ construction, which told us that they had been cut by blasting. The entrances at each end feature portals bolstered with schist slab facings, with the arches outlined in brick. The inside walls are lined with brick for about 10 m, after which the walls are just bare rock.

The tunnel entrance is lined with brick

As we emerged from the tunnel, there was a lovely picnic spot, overlooking the valley, so we called a halt here and had our lunch.

Huge rock walls by the tunnel exit (photo by John)

Several pairs of people went by, going in the other direction. We hadn’t seen very many other cyclists, despite this being the high season on the Rail Trail. Only another kilometre further on, there was another tunnel, shorter and straight, so we didn’t need our torches as we could see daylight at the end.

John’s typical stance when taking a photo with his handlebar-mounted camera

Towards the end of the gorge, we came to the Poolburn Viaduct, which is 109 m long and 37 m high – the highest bridge on the rail line. It was the last big masonry pier bridge with steel trusses built on the line. We marvelled at the magnificent pillars, for which the schist slabs had been quarried from nearby outcrops and precision-carved by skilled stone masons.

The Poolburn Viaduct

The central truss of the bridge is 47m long (photo by John)

At the far end of the Viaduct, we met some people from the Kapiti Coast – also travelling by camper-van. These people hadn’t been home since January – enjoying life on the road. I was amazed to see that the man rode in bare feet. I have “a thing” about people who won’t wear shoes – it makes me cringe. Yuck, apart from the fact that it’s dangerous, just yuck!

Another camper-vanning couple, enjoying their retirement on the road (photo by John)

So far the road had been climbing steadily, but now we had a little bit of downhill into the Ida Valley. As we descended, we could see a road snaking its way down the valley.

Heading down to the Ida Valley (photo by John)

Then there was a lo-o-o-ong, straight stretch of track, quite boring, with farmlands on either side. The track looked flat but was actually going uphill, and it was rather a grind. My thighs were so sore, I could get no oomph out of them. But I just plodded and plodded, thinking enviously of that other couple with their electric bikes. It was hot too.

This stretch was long, and heavy-going, and hot! (photo by John)

Comfort stop at a genuine “long-drop” (photo by John) 

The site of the former Auripo Station consisted of just a board and a stamping box. We still had another 12 km to go before Oturehua and our next cup of coffee! We were both feeling quite tired and in need of sustenance. Just as well we had water and some chocolate on board. At least the view was pretty.

Exhausted already, and another 31 km to go before we can call it a day! (photo by John)

A lonely shed or farm house down in the valley

From Auripo, it was 4 km to Ida Valley Station, but there was nothing there either, apart from a gangers’ shed. It was a long, uphill slog. A slight incline, but relentless.

The Ida Valley Station gangers’ shed (photo by John)

I read somewhere that the Ida Valley is “wide and flat, and 40 km long”. Yep, and we would have biked most of that by the time we got to Oturehua! But it definitely was not completely flat, or it wouldn’t have been such a slog!

Some of it was very pretty … (photo by John)

… but it did seem to go on forever (photo by John)

The Ida Valley is known for its very harsh winters. We knew about the Idaburn Dam, which is the scene of curling competitions in the winter, when it freezes over. It was mentioned in one of our booklets about the trail, so we were on the lookout for it.

When we went past it, it looked very disappointing – just a weed-infested bit of a pond. In fact we weren’t sure whether this was really it. But we asked at the café (when we finally got to it) if this was really the Idaburn Dam, and they confirmed that it was. I suppose, since it's a dam, they can let it fill up more so that there is a larger surface to freeze over.

The Idaburn Dam – the scene of the National Bonspiel when conditions permit – was somewhat disappointing (photo by John)

Curling is a rather quirky game (some might say, sport) of Scottish origin, in which players slide large, smooth granite stones across the ice towards a target. Rather like playing bowls on ice. But the amusing thing is that the trajectory of the stone can be influenced by rubbing the ice in front of it with little brooms. Two players brushing the ice furiously can look quite manic, as there's usually much yelling going on too. I apologise to any staunch curling aficionados out there, if I made it sound funny. I know that it is deadly serious to them.

When the conditions allow, the National Bonspiel is held at Idaburn.  A bonspiel is a curling tournament, and I gather that competition between teams is fierce in the area. The photograph in this link about the Idaburn Bonspiel shows that the scene is a lot more attractive in winter than in summer/autumn.

Finally, finally, soon after the Idaburn Dam, we arrived at Hayes Engineering Works, a historic site with a museum, camping ground and – halleluja! – a café. Just before we got there, we were overtaken by the people on electric bikes that we had met at the Poolburn Tunnel. In the time that we had slogged from there to here (16 km), they had been from there to Lauder and back, and then to here (26 km)! I told them I’d been fantasising about their electric bikes as I plodded along.

The people at the café must be used to cyclists “collapsing” on their doorstep (slight exaggeration!), because the first thing we saw as we entered the garden, was a table under a tree, with a large container of cool water which had a notice inviting people to help themselves to drinking water. It must be mentioned here that in the Rail Trail literature, cyclists are warned to take plenty of water with them, as there are no water sources available along the route. So this was a particularly welcome touch.

One very hot and tired cyclist – with the welcoming water container in the background (photo by John)

We went into the café and ordered coffee and scones. They arrived on a nice old-fashioned tiered plate, with scones on the bottom plate and small dishes of jam and cream on the top. Aah, bliss!

Scones with jam and cream – what could be nicer? (photo by John)

Hayes Engineering Works is an historic engineering factory, where Ernest Hayes invented the Hayes Wire Strainer in 1924. This piece of equipment for use in building wire fences is still used on farms everywhere, and even received a Design Award in 1981, long after Ernest Hayes had died.

The museum would have been very interesting to visit, as would the old Homestead, which apparently is full of “innovations” of the period, which are now commonplace, such as a flush toilet, electricity (generated by a water-driven Pelton wheel) and piped radio.

But it was already 3pm, and we still had 14 km to ride, including the hill to Wedderburn, which would get us to the highest point on the Rail Trail. So we had to skip visiting the museum and homestead. All we had time for was to take a little wander around the café garden (to find the loo!) and take a photo of the old tractor on display there.

The old tractor at Hayes Engineering Works

Only 2 km further along, we arrived at Oturehua, a small township, of which the major feature was Gilchrist’s Store. Built in 1902, this is believed to be NZ’s oldest continuously operating store. It is a large store, with one side kept as it might have been back 100 (or maybe 50?) years ago, while the other half was a modern shop with 21st century merchandise.

And guess what I found there? Some Anti-Flamme! Yay! Another item we bought was a gel saddle cover, to make the ride a little gentler on my hindquarters. The shop obviously was very sensitive to the needs of cyclists, with other necessities like sun screen, lip balm and anti-chafing cream available. And they also had such modern-day delights as Tip Top Trumpets (ice cream) so we enjoyed one in the shade of the shop canopy.

The “museum” side of Gilchrist’s Store (photo by John)

Enjoying an ice cream outside Gilchrist’s Store (photo by John)

Then came the final haul, the worst climb up to the highest point on the trail, just a few kilometres before Wedderburn, our end point for the day. I think it was cruel on the part of the Trail Journeys people to book us in Wedderburn, with such a hard haul at the end of the day, when we were so tired.

A short distance past Oturehua, we came to the first of two signs telling us that we were crossing the 45º South Latitude Parallel – exactly half-way between the Equator and the South Pole. And we crossed the line twice, because the trail first goes north, then curves and heads back south, and crosses it again.

We were to cross the 45º South Latitude line twice

A well-stocked hay shed with the Hawkdun Ranges in the background

The ride to the highest point of the Rail Trail seemed to go on forever. At every “peak” we hoped it would be the highest point which we knew would tell us “It’s all downhill from here”, but it was quite a while before we finally got there. But at last, there it was: The Highest Point on the Otago Central Rail Trail – 618 m above sea level – 448 m higher than where we had left from, at Clyde, the previous day. Whew!

Huff, puff, pant, pant! (photo by John)

It’s all downhill from here (photo by John)

After this, it was a shortish downhill ride to Wedderburn Cottages. It was a surprise when we got there. We came round a bend in the track, and there they were. It was 5:15 pm – we’d been on the road for eight hours! And feeling just a mite the worse for wear – blooming knackered actually.

We went into the Red Barn, which provided information, water and toilets to cyclists, and where postcards, coffee and icecream could be bought (honesty system), but there was no one in attendance. Our suitcase was waiting for us out the front, and there was a notice board with a list of people’s names and the cottages they'd been allocated. So we went to cottage No 10, which was very nice, with a nice little kitchenette and a table and chairs on the veranda.

Wedderburn Cottages

We settled in, and after a freshen-up, I applied liberal quantities of Anti-Flamme to my sore leg muscles. Aah, the relief!

After a while we wandered down to the Wedderburn Tavern, for dinner. We got ourselves a glass of Riesling each, and sat outside for a little while, but the midges were getting to us, so we went inside and ordered dinner.

An old shed, on the way to the tavern (photo by John)

The reward for a hard day’s cycling (photo by John)

The dinner, again, was excellent. John’s choice, roast lamb, came in two sizes – full-size and half-size. John chose the half-size, and it was plenty big enough. We saw the full-size version being taken to another table, and it was huge! Good old southern hospitality, someone said.

The Wedderburn Tavern

Walking back after dinner, for an early night and a well-deserved sleep (photo by John)

Otago Central Rail Trail - Day 1

We did it! We biked the Otago Central Rail Trail, 150 kms over four days. We had three lovely fine, calm days, and the final day it rained!

We had taken our bikes in our little car across Cook Strait five days earlier, and had taken our time getting to Clyde, in Central Otago, from where we departed on the trail. Along the way, we biked in every place we stayed in – Christchurch, Tekapo, and Lake Ohau. All of these were interesting and yielded great photos (mainly from John, of course), and I will write up these rides a bit later. But for now, I just want to write about the Otago Rail Trail.

I will publish each Rail Trail day as a separate post, so look for the other days further up the blog.

For the non-New Zealanders who read this blog, let me tell you a bit about the Rail Trail. Central Otago, in the lower half of the South Island, was the scene of a gold rush in the 1860s. Many communities grew as miners flocked to try their luck. Between 1891 and 1907 a railway line was built to service these communities. By 1921, when the rail head finally reached Clyde, the gold rush was finished, and farming had taken over. The railway was vital for the communities, bringing in mail and other supplies from Dunedin, and transporting wool bales and livestock to Dunedin’s docks and meatworks.

However in 1990 the line was closed. The rails were removed, and eventually, the track was made suitable for cycling instead. And in 2000, the Otago Central Rail Trail was opened to the public. It was the first in a series of great cycling trails to open in NZ in succeeding years.

The Otago Rail Trail goes for 150 kms from Clyde to Middlemarch – or vice versa – and rises from 170 m above sea level at Clyde (and dips to 150 m at Alexandra), to 618 m at its highest point near Wedderburn, and back to 200 m at Middlemarch. It goes through some quite varied landscapes of amazing beauty, ranging from lush valleys and river flats, to steep and harsh gorges, and wide open views to starkly beautiful, high hills and mountains in the distance.

The trail is described by the cycling fraternity and the NZ Cycle Trail information as “Grade 1, easiest”, meaning: “Off-road trail surface is either firm gravel or sealed (e.g. concrete or asphalt) and is wide enough for 2 people to cycle side by side for most of the way. Suitable for novice cyclists, families and others seeking a very easy cycling experience”.

The Kennett Brothers’ book “Classic NZ Cycle Trails” describes the grade as “Very easy: Flat, smooth and wide trails suitable for the whole family. The surface is concrete or smooth gravel. Any on-road sections will have little or no traffic, travelling at 50kph or less”. 

While I would probably agree with all of that, I would say that the trail was not exactly a “doddle”, and we found that the first two days of cycling were long and b… hard work. But the fabulous landscape makes up for the hardships – sort of ...

Because the Otago Rail Trail is a great drawcard for tourists, there are several companies that hire out bicycles, book accommodation, transport luggage from point to point, and shuttle passengers (and bikes) between any of the points between Queenstown and Dunedin and anywhere along the trail, if required.

We went with a company called Trail Journeys, which booked our accommodation along the way, moved our luggage to the next place every day, and brought us back from Middlemarch to Clyde on the final day. One of the reasons we used Trail Journeys was that they had a secure, under-cover, storage facility for our car. 

We chose to ride the Trail in four days, but in hindsight, it would have been much better to have done it over five or even six days. We had to cycle 45 kms for each of the first three days, which supposedly is about four hours of cycling, but it works out to be rather longer. It left no time to do any side trips, or to linger anywhere for any length of time.

Also in hindsight, it might have been easier to start from Middlemarch, as you get to the highest point sooner, and so the there is more downhill than uphill. Although nowhere was the gradient more than 1 in 50, which is fairly gentle, it seems like a really hard grind (for the likes of me, at least) if it goes on and on for miles. Then again, general advice seems to be that Clyde to Middlemarch is better because of the prevailing wind. We were lucky in that all four days were mostly calm – just a little breeze to keep us from overheating.

The map below was taken from this website. It shows the layout of the trail, the places we visited, and the elevation profile.

The Central Otago Rail Trail (map taken from http://otagorailtrail.co.nz/)

Day 1 – Clyde to Ophir

On Wednesday 2 April, we set off from the Trail Journeys depot in Clyde, having delivered our suitcase for transfer to our next accommodation, and our car for storage for the next four days. We each bought a Rail Trail “Passport” which provided information about all the places we would be cycling through, and which had space for a Rail Trail stamp at each former railway station.

Our Rail Trail “Passports”. John’s bedraggled one, on the left, got rather wet on the last day of the trail (photo by John)

Half a kilometre down the track, we realised we hadn’t recorded the place of departure. That’s not a good start when you’ve got a blog to write, so we rode back just to take a photo of us in front of the Otago Central Rail Trail sign.

Departing from Clyde (photo by John)

We debated whether to ride the official Rail Trail to Alexandra – which is 8 kms long, and runs more or less parallel to the highway (some sources describe this as the “boring” option) – or ride the 16 km Centennial Walkway, which runs along the Clutha River and is reputed to be more interesting, but goes up and down some serious humps. We decided on the simpler option – we didn’t want to tempt fate right at the start of our trip. That reduced our distance to ride on that day from 47 kms to 39 kms.

The trail between Clyde and Alexandra was very straightforward (photo by John)

We rode into Alexandra to find an ATM – no such thing in Clyde – to get some cash out, because we’d been advised that some of the food outlets along the trail might not have access to Eftpos. This turned out to be incorrect. Everywhere we went, there were Eftpos or Credit facilities.

The first of the many bridges of the Rail Trail crosses the Manuherekia River (which joins the Clutha at Alexandra)

Soon out of Alexandra the terrain changed, and we were going up an incline. For a short distance, right next to the Rail Trail, there was a very narrow track, that went up and down steep hummocks and around sharp bends. A group of young people – a tour group, I think – was careering along this track. I admired their energy and skill.

The landscape was immensely varied, as you can see from the next two photos. Sometimes we rode through pleasant leafy glades, with pretty bridges, and other times it was fairly boring straight track with nothing much of interest along the edges, but with great vistas towards the surrounding hills, far away.

Pleasant glades with bridges over pretty streams … (photo by John)

…and boring straight stretches (photo by John)

At Galloway, the only building remaining of the original settlement was the ladies’ waiting room of the once busy railway station. The red box on the post contains the stamp with which to “certify our passports”.

Galloway Station (photo by John)

Looking out through a hole in the wall of the station (photo by John)

In a number of paddocks along the way there were long lines of polythene-wrapped rolls of silage, ready for feeding out to stock during the cold winter days. There was a very distinctive smell coming from them – sort of sweet but also a bit sour …

Long lines of silage (photo by John)

All along the Rail Trail there were “gangers’ sheds”. In the days of the railway, these were used by the gangers (working gangs), who were responsible for track maintenance. The sheds provided shelter in foul weather, or a place for the men to have their “smoko breaks”. Some, I noticed, still had fireplaces in them.

The Olrig Gangers’ Shed (photo by John)

Inside many of the gangers’ sheds there were boards with information about the area – what can be seen in the landscape, how far to the next station, historical photos, information about fauna and flora, geology, side trips that can be made from there, etc.

Information was provided in many of the gangers’ sheds (photo by John)

Almost everywhere we went, we saw these plants by the side of the track. According to a helpful little book about the Rail Trail, they are a non-native plant called “woolly mullein” (Verbascum thapsus). They start as furry-leaved rosettes, and these big flower spikes grow from the middle. Most were pretty dried out by this time of year, but some still had a few yellow flowers at the top. 

Woolly mullein (Verbascum thapsus) lines the trail in many places (photo by John)

The flowers of woolly mullein

After Galloway, the trail started to climb. It was incredibly deceptive. The track looked to be flat, but our legs told us it was going uphill. It was quite a grind (for me, at least). The supposedly average 10 km per hour speed slowed down appreciably for me. And it seemed to be going on forever …

The track seemed flat, but was actually quite hard work (photo by John)

We crossed the Manuherekia No 2 Viaduct and the contrast between the growth by the river and the lack of plants up on the hills is remarkable. The willows by the river had started to turn on their autumn colours.

The Manuherekia River (photo by John)

There were some spectacular rocky outcrops

It was only nine kilometres from Galloway to Chatto Creek, though it seemed longer. It took us an hour and a half (with photo stops, of course). It was a fair slog, and my thighs were hurting, I could get no energy out of them. While grinding along I thought about how stupid I had been to take the Anti-Flamme out of our suitcase the night before, in a bid to reduce the amount of stuff we were trying to cram in there (there was a weight limit to the bag we could have transferred by Trail Journeys).

We were relieved to get to the delightful Chatto Creek Tavern. The garden setting is quite charming, with roses and hollyhocks still flowering, tables under brollies on the lawn, and of course plenty of bike racks. The remains of a gold dredge that was used in this area in the late 1800s were displayed next to the tavern, along with a board providing information about these devices.

The garden at Chatto Creek Tavern (photo by John)

Plenty of bike racks (photo by John)

The remains of a gold dredge

We duly ordered lunch, coffee and some “donkey doo’s”, as they were labelled at the counter. These were gigantic, solid, truffle-type balls, made of malt bicuits, currants, and coconut, held together with condensed milk. Very stodgy, very delicious, and just what we needed after our ride. Lunch included the most delicious crispy “wedges”, which didn’t look like wedges at all. 

Crispy wedges and “donkey doos” for lunch (photo by John)

I suspect the “donkey doos” were inspired by the two donkeys in the paddock next door

We took a look at the Chatto Creek Post Office – the smallest post office in NZ. It is still possible to post letters here, which will be stamped with the Chatto Creek postmark. It dates back to 1892, and was restored by the local community (of 20!) and relocated from the original railway station to here next to the tavern. The inside was set up as it was, when it was last used.

NZ’s smallest post office is at Chatto Creek

Postman Pat (terson) in the Chatto Creek Post Office

The sign indicating where Chatto Creek Station once stood, gave the distances to and from various places on the trail. So far, we had done 25 kms, and we had another 12 kms to go to Omakau, plus a further 2 kms to Ophir, where we would be staying overnight.

The original railway platform is behind this board at Chatto Creek Station

When we ordered lunch, the woman at the counter asked how we were doing, and I said I was knackered. “Oh dear”, she said “and you’ve still got Tiger Hill ahead of you!”. That put the wind up me! “How bad is it?”, I asked. She reckoned it wasn’t very bad, but she had some advice for me: “Don’t look at where you are headed, look around you. That will distract you from how much further you have to go”.

Tiger Hill is the steepest section of the Rail Trail. The incline is “only” 1:50 (i.e. it rises 1 m for every 50 m distance), which is the steepest a train can manage without losing traction on the rails. So to negotiate a hill, the track has to swoop around its contours, in ‘horse shoe bends’, a big sweeping S shape. The disadvantage of that, of course, is that it takes a much longer distance to get to the required height. And OMG, was it long! My poor legs!

While you’re riding it you are not aware of how the trail rounds the hill (my sense of direction is pretty hopeless), so it was quite interesting to look up the track on Google Maps when I got home (look up “Tiger Hill, Otago, NZ”).

It is quite amazing to think that this railway track was built by men using picks, shovels and wheelbarrows. No earth moving machinery! Rocks from cuttings and tunnels were used to build embankments over stone culverts and across gullies.

The huge cuttings were dug out by men using picks, shovels and wheelbarrows

The schist outcrops on Tiger Hill are quite spectacular. In one place, I spotted some sheep taking shelter from the sun under some of the outcrops. I thought it looked rather “biblical” – like something out of the 1950s film “Ben Hur”.

Looking down from an embankment to the stream far below

Sheep in a “biblical” setting …

The hill was fairly gruelling – to this old flatlander’s body anyway – and my thigh muscles were fair burning from the effort. But I am proud to be able to say I did bike up all the way without having to step down and walk. The advice from the woman at Chatto Creek was spot on. Just admire the scenery around you, and keep those legs pumping …

“She’ll be coming round the mountain, when she comes …” (photo by John)

Near the highest point, there was the Tiger Hill gangers’ shed, with information about the building of the track, and about the mountain ranges all around us – the Merton Hills, the Dunstan Mountains, the Old Woman Range, Old Man Range, and Knobby Range.

Close to the gangers’ shed is a small grove of apple trees laden with ripening fruit – the result of apple cores thrown from railway carriages. There we met a skinny, wiry man, who had cycled from Omakau (8 kms away) to help himself to some apples. He had a long-handled grabbing device, so he could reach up into the branches. He told us he had retired from Tauranga to Omakau, and that he came every autumn to get some apples. He had a backpack and some other bags that he was going to fill. He offered us some apples, and they were crisp and juicy, though a bit sour. They’ll probably taste better when stewed with some sugar.

Groan! Does my bum look big in this? Yes, but only because I am wearing padded bike pants …
Yeah right! (photo by John)

We left him picking his apples, but before we reached Omakau, he caught up with us, having filled up two bags on his handle bars, one back-pack (only half-full, he said, as he did his back in last time filling it right up) and one on the bike carrier! He’s going to have to eat a lot of stewed apples! (Post script: My daughter suggested he's probably going to make them into cider. Of course! how naïve I am ...)

Once over the highest point, the trail went through an underpass under SH 85, and then it was an easy ride down to Omakau. Yay!

The underpass under SH85 (photo by John)

We crossed the bridge over Thomsons Creek. There are more than 60 bridges on the Rail Trail. Since the closure of the railway, they have been redecked and hand rails have been added to make them safe for trail users. Most of the bridges still have the old sleepers, with the gaps filled with new timber. It makes for a rather juddery riding surface.

The bridge over Thomsons Creek

Alternating old sleepers and new timbers on the bridge (photo by John)

Near the bridge, John took another picture of the rocks edging the trail. He thinks that the top of the rock looks like Snoopy in his Sopwith Camel, with his scarf flying behind him (from the Peanuts cartoons).

John thinks this looks like Snoopy in his Sopwith Camel (photo by John)

When the apple man caught up with us just before Omakau, he offered to ride with us, and to show us the way to Ophir, where we would be staying overnight. Strictly speaking, Ophir is not part of the Rail Trail, as the railway bypassed this township, in favour of Omakau. It was another 2 kms further along, by road.

We entered Ophir by crossing the beautiful Daniel O’Donnell suspension bridge over the Manuherekia River. Even if we hadn’t been staying in Ophir, a side trip to see this bridge would have been worthwhile. It is a most impressive bridge, 63 m long, and with pillars built of hand-hewn stone. It was opened in1880.

The Daniel O’Donnell suspension bridge – from a distance …

… and closer up

Ophir’s current claim to fame is its largest temperature range in NZ. It holds the record for the coldest place in NZ, which reached -21.6 C° in July 1995. And its hottest summer day was 35.2 C° in January 1959. But when we were there, it was a very pleasant mid-20s degrees.

Our accommodation had been booked at Blacks Hotel, an Art Deco building dating from 1937. Despite March and April being the “busy season” for the Rail Trail, we were the only guests staying there that night. The friendly publican, Steve, showed us to our room and told us to help ourselves to coffee in the dining room. He also gave us a leaflet about some of the buildings in Ophir.

Blacks Hotel in Ophir (photo by John)

The public bar at Blacks Hotel was very quiet in the mid-afternoon (photo by John)

During the gold rush days, Ophir was a significant town, and a number of original buildings have survived and have been restored. After we had freshened up, we took a walk down the main street, and ended up at the historic post office. It is the only post office in NZ where the mail is still franked by hand, and when it gets to Dunedin, it is sorted by hand (rather than by sorting and franking machines).

Ophir’s historic Post Office and Memorial Hall (photo by John)

The post office is only open a few hours a day – when tourists are likely to be calling in – and the hand-franking is their drawcard. So I bought postcards to send to my daughters and sister (and ourselves!), and the post mistress offered to let me come behind the counter to do the hand-franking myself.

Behind the counter, franking postcards by hand (photo by John)

Some of the old cottages were beautifully restored … (photo by John)

… others were not (photo by John)

After our walk, we settled to a welcome glass of wine on the deck at the back of the pub, to download the day’s photos, and try to write up a diary of sorts.  We chatted to some of the locals, who were enjoying a drink on the deck too. We found that almost all of Ophir's current population of 40-odd people were retired "imports" from other parts of NZ. And they absolutely loved living there, despite the cold winters.

We finished the day with an excellent pub meal of roast lamb.

A well-deserved glass of wine at the end of a rather tiring day