On the Crown...

After a string of idle days my legs should be fresh and riding should be easy, right? Wrong. Not when the route crosses the Crown Range, the highest sealed road in New Zealand.

For once I got an early start and after fuelling up with a big breakfast and a last look around the beautiful Lake Wanaka shores, I headed off. At first the route took me through a wide valley, with open farmland and pastures, but the mountains slowly closed in as I climbed gradually to Cardona. At the historic pub I stopped for a bowl of wedges - more fuel for the climbing. Sadly the old car that has long been a feature of the pub was not there - it had been damaged and taken away for restoration.

 

 

 

 

 

After some procrastination I set off to face what was to come - a winding climb up the gradually steepening valley, becoming very steep and narrow in the last few kilometers.

 


Here the road became almost impossible to ride - there was no wobble room for a cyclist travelling at little more than walking pace, and the roadside was littered with rockfall. I walked and pushed the bike for perhaps two kilometers before the grade eased near the saddle. Finally I topped the last crest and rolled in to the lookout. There were cheers and applause from some tourists taking in the stupendous views down the valley to Queenstown as I arrived.

 

Boofle insisted on getting into the picture, but I can tell you that he didn't help with the climbing at all.

Next came the descent - by now it was late afternoon and the temperature was falling. The descent was even steeper and more winding than the ascent, and a brisk wind was blowing on this side of the range. I put on my jacket and warm gloves and set off, but before long my fingers were numb and it was a struggle to keep the brakes applied.

About halfway down I turned off onto the back road to Arrowtown. In the late afternoon light I had a fantastic view over Lake Hayes to Queenstown and Lake Wakatipu in the distance. 

 

The back road led me to the rough and extremely steep Tobins Track, which descended to the Arrow River. It was so steep I though I would be tossed over the bars. Eventually, bitterly cold and with aching hands from gripping the brakes I reached the river, and crossing the footbridge was right in the centre of the town. I quickly found the holiday park, had a warm shower and heated some food before collapsing into bed.


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