Mountain Biking
Queen Charlotte Track
Resolution Bay to Punga Cove Resort/ Camp Bay, New Zealand
Sheep, climbing, glow worms and darkness - Kelli’s perceived immanent demise
Day 1: April 26, 2004
It was around 2:30 in the late fall afternoon when the Cougar Line dropped us off at Resolution Bay Cabin’s dock. We were greeted by a scraggly looking puppy-diplomat. The Queen Charlotte track runs just above the cabin. Following the signs, we began an ominous start to our ride when we (well, actually I) carried our bikes up a set of steep steps to the trail. As the afternoon sun cut through the trees, we began by riding through a group of sheep that were more concerned about eating than worrying about bicyclists; although a very interesting sight, it’s not uncommon in a country that has ten times the population of sheep as compared to people.
This section of trail is quite pretty and crosses private property several times, which required dismounting, unlocking a gate and then closing and latching it again several times. The first grade rises from the coast at Resolution Cabins and heads up sharply into the higher portions of the mountains surrounding the bay. From the top, a careful eye can spot Resolution Bay Cabins as a little speck near the coast. It certainly is a poignant visual of how high we had immediately climbed, er, pushed that is.
With several ups and downs we headed towards Tawa Saddle where the trail would begin a gradual downhill towards our day’s goal. From the saddle, you’ll eventually pass Furneaux Lodge and Endeavour Resort, which are both popular hikers’ lodging options. It wasn’t long before we were greeting by what seemed to look like strange mountain chickens. They came out, paraded around us and generally looked as if they were demanding something. Although strange at the time, we later found out that the Weka (as they are formally called) often find you before you find them!
With time spent marveling at the gorgeous views of Resolution Bay and Tawa Bay along with taking many, many pictures, we were not setting any speed records. In the summer months the days are long and this wouldn’t be an issue, but this was late April, New Zealand’s fall, which meant that the last rays of daylight would disappear around 6:00 PM.
The scenery on this as well as the other sections of the Queen Charlotte Track is as sublime as it is diverse. Within the area are virgin forests ranging from towering 800 year-old Rimu trees, lush Ponga tree ferns and beautiful native orchids, blanketing the rolling mountains down to the jade green waters of the Sound. With this entire marvelous wilderness to admire, it was no surprise that we were running out of daylight.
After riding through some beautiful sea level farmland around Endeavour Inlet and over a neat swing bridge, I glanced at the elevation map for what would be the last time this day. A long and steady, but easy ascent would lead to one last steep hill to ride or push over before we reached Punga Cove. As we exited the farm and rolled into the woods we began the ascent. There were no surprises, yet.
As dusk arrived and darkness came, our riding slowly eroded from riding (riding when we were not under tree cover and could see the trail) to pushing blindly in a pitch black overcast night. It was so completely dark that while I pushed our bikes, Kelli had to hold onto the back of my shirt in order to not get separated. Imagine shutting yourself in a closet, it was that dark.
At one point we passed an area full of glow worms. Glow worms are just what their name implies; they glow at night like little stars. Prior to our trip, seeing glow worms was on the top of Kelli’s to do list. Now that they were right in front of us, Kelli, who was more than a little worried about our survival, replied, “I don’t care!” That comment mixed with the occasional “I’m scared” more than made her state of mind clear to me.
“The cool thing about New Zealand,” I explained to Kelli, “is that they have no native mammals. Nothing here will eat us for dinner in the dark.” This did little to comfort her. I have to admit that I was worried, too – worried about tripping and falling off the mountain in the dark.
We soon came to a sign that neither one of us could read. It was just too dark even for Kelli’s incredible macro vision. With her face not an inch away from the sign, Kelli’s best guess was that is said something about Punga Café – it was that dark. It was decision time. The last look at the map indicated one more hill to climb before we got to Punga Resort. We hadn’t climbed a steep hill yet and Kelli’s best guess was that the sign said Punga Cafe’. I opted to play it safe and stay on the track. I didn’t want to add more time or backtrack in the dark.
One long, dark push up a hill later, we found a gravel road at the top. It wasn’t part of the trail, but I could actually see it and it went downhill – two traits that were very attractive at that moment. I figured as long as it went down, we could find our lodging once we got there. Discussions of beer, wine, food, hot showers and relief echoed through the forest as we descended the gravel road. As luck would have it, the road did end at Punga Resort! Relief! Rejoicing! We were alive! My first words were, “Please God, please tell me you have beer!” They did, as well as great food and a warm bed too.
About the Punga Café sign we thought we saw in the dark - I later learned that the sign is actually a short cut to the resort that would have saved us the last hour of pushing up the hill in the dark. Mistake? Well, yes and no – we did actually get there and who knows where that sign that we could hardly read could have lead us.
