You can do hard things My 1200km journey traversing Te Waipounamu
the line between adventure and irresponsibility? Eventually, I emerged from the valley to be greeted by beautiful snow-dusted mountains. Some days you just have to grasp the opportunity and leave the beaten track to discover some of the most spectacular scenery in Aotearoa. With more challenges to overcome, I tackled the Nevis Pass – a personal highlight and the highest public road in Aotearoa – reaching 1300m at Duffer’s Saddle. Basically, it delivered more elevation than any other day. While I was apprehensive, once you start pedalling – and even when it’s hard – you find one more pedal stroke in you. It started well, and the first few hours were a steady, relentless climb. Off the bike, I love the quote ‘Consistency beats intensity’. Nowhere is that truer than on big days in the hills. Go too hard, too early, and you pay for it later. False summits gave me the thrill of thinking I was nearly there, followed by the emotional crash of realising there was more to come. Bikepacking puts you outside your comfort zone but I strive to never quit. While you can stop, eat, and rest, eventually, you have to get back on your bike and continue your journey. There is no other way out. Reaching the saddle summit was pretty incredible, reinforcing my belief that we are capable of anything we put our minds to achieving. Reflecting on my journey, I realise that I plan well and remain realistic about my capabilities. I also love riding my bike, especially through stunning scenery, in the sunshine with a tailwind. I love the simple life. My people are important to me. Porridge is life. And, most importantly, I can do hard things. Here’s to the next adventure.
WORDS | KIRSTY HOWATSON
W hen it’s hard going, there’s always one more pedal stroke in you. That applies to study, sport, jobs, and life – and a 1200km quest to cycle down Te Waipounamu. Riding my bike has always been my ‘happy place’ – from velodromes, to roads and trails, and then the freedom of an epic long-distance challenge. In a world where anyone can contact you at any given moment, I love disconnecting from society. On my ride from Picton to Gore, social interactions become wonderful conversations with people in corner shops or pubs, or chats around a fire over a hot chocolate. All I need to do is ride my bike, eat, and sleep – then repeat. For me, the joy of bikepacking is that life becomes so simple. I had an inkling of what lay ahead, having undertaken a few bikepacking missions: Christchurch to Nelson over a week, and cycling around Tasmania in just more than 10 days. However, this was different – 17 days to get from Picton to Gore. How hard could it be? Gearing up for the Ōmārama Saddle, I knew it would be a tough climb.
Reaching 1250m, and with 31 fords to cross on the way down, there was no turning back once you reached the top. It is one of the few days I have feared. What if I couldn’t make it up the saddle? What if I had a mechanical? What if the weather was terrible? I soon found myself navigating rocks and gravel during the steep climb that I might have ridden on an unloaded bike. However, carrying all my gear, the large boulders and uneven surface meant that once I lost traction, I couldn’t get going again. A few kilometres from the top, I was jumping on and off my bike –pushing between ridable sections. Mentally, reaching the top changed everything. If I could achieve this, I could ride up, down, and around almost anything. As in life, I found that I really could do hard things. If getting to the top was hard, the descent was rock-filled and technical. It would have been easy to switch off at this point, but staying focused kept me safe downhill. Then came the 30-plus river crossings. The track was obviously more suitable for a 4WD and incredibly muddy – to the point that my tyres had no visible grip and lost complete traction. Had I crossed
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