With two weeks left in August and plans to be in Saskatchewan by the last of those, Aaron and I were looking for a final summer adventure. Lucky for us, James and Verena threw together plans to cycle the Columbia & Western Railway Trail, a spur off the Kettle Valley Rail Trail, and invited us to join them. After a frantic two days of packing for a bike tour, long road trip, family visiting and a wedding, we were off to meet them in Nelson.

The trail started by the Keenleyside Dam in Castlegar. For the first kilometre or so, you ride between the old rails but after that, it’s just a rail bed with a surface of varying condition.

We were on loaded touring bikes with beefed-up tires (I can’t remember the thickness, but thicker than my usual tires). I was worried the fatter tires still wouldn’t be sufficient for the reported loose gravel and sand sections. The first day was quite hard, but it got better further along the trail and as I became used to controlling a loaded bike again. Things became especially fun and easy at kilometre 50, when we reached the trail summit and started the gradual descent to Grand Forks.

On the way we rode by views like this:

Over old railway bridges:

(A woman we met told us that back in the day the bridges did not have railings. They’re so wide, I’m sure it’d be fine but still…eep!)

There were a few sections reclaimed by the elements. The trail once crossed here:

A good reason to check the Kettle Valley Rail Trail website for any washout or landslide notices beforehand. Luckily, a new path was created on the left. But without the friendly rail-grade, we had to portage our bikes and panniers down and back up the path’s very slopes.

We went through tunnels, as one should on a rail trail, including this kilometer-long tunnel…with a curve at the end…blocking out ALL LIGHT…for almost a kilometer. It was spooky.

Bring your headlamp.

Did I mention that James and Verena heroically brought 1-year-old Cassia along? She provided hours of entertainment with her smiles, giggles and five word vocabulary.

The five of us:

That photo was taken by Roy (I think that was his name…) who we at our first camp spot, next to the trail in a clearing where there was once a station. This wasn’t his first time on these rail trails and I was envious of his suspension and BOB trailer set up.

The second night we camped by a rambling creek and the third, next to the Kettle River:

A bit of a hike down the staircase with all the gear but worth the perfect campsite, a swim in the river and the silkiest sand I’ve ever set foot on in BC.

We ate delicious food, including a curry-off one evening. Aaron introduced me to the joys of his dehydrator and we (pre)made a lamb curry using this guy’s recipe. I highly recommend not using the 40 chiles he calls for. He must have had a very mild variety. I only used 4 small chiles and it was still pushing the limits of too spicy for me.

The dal that James made was incredible. I would have eaten seconds but that would’ve involved fighting Cassia for a share. We were all surprised at how much she loved it and her parents are quite happy that she already has a taste for curry.

On the fourth day of riding, we left the forests and entered a dryer, more desert-like climate as we transitioned from the Kootenays to the Okanagan.

Our end-point was in Grand Forks, not terribly far from Castlegar. Sadly, it was only a short trip, but the good thing is that we still have hundreds more kilometres of the rail trail to explore.

Day 17: from Wanaka to Queenstown and our highest climb.

Our guidebook provided two routes to get to Queenstown from Wanaka. Route A: 112 km via SH6 or route B: 75km through the Crown Range. Aside from being the shorter way, route B’s elevation profile made it more appealing:

I was a little intimidated but Aaron reminded me that the first 30kms or so would be a meager 1% grade and that 750m was less than some of our combined climbs in a day, and of Mount Seymour’s 1000-some metres in 13kms (which wasn’t so bad…on an unloaded bike).

So we set off into the Cadrona Valley, where the activity of choice seemed to be horseback riding.

Only a few days from the “Wet (West) Coast”, the dryness and heat was quite a drastic change but the steady gradually climb was barely perceptible.

It was so gradual that, as the distance on my bike computer came closer to our halfway mark, I started to get anxious about “a final climb”. It was difficult to tell from the small elevation chart, but it looked like the last stretch before the top would be steeper.

And indeed, in the last few kilometres, all my hill-climbing skills developed thus far were put to shame. I panted, I stopped, I guzzled water, I pushed my bike up a considerably steep stretch, I tried to photograph the steepness but it’s one of those things quite difficult to capture. My attempt:

But we made it. Up to the “highest sealed road in New Zealand”.

And the view was spectacular. Oh it would be a shame to climb this on a cloudy day.

Our victory shot. The road in the background would be our way down. The drop on the left-hand side and lack of railing had me a bit frightened.

Especially when we turned round the bend at high downhill speed and another spectacular view distraction me from paying attention to the road and traffic.

Luckily (unluckily?), the descent was short, ending with an amazing section of switchbacks winding us down from the ridge. Oddly, approaching the bottom there were signs saying “Test your brakes now!!” but no obvious detours or other solution in the event that they didn’t work.

Despite the challenging final bit of ascent and quite an intense descent, it was a pretty good climbing experience with a most satisfying summit. I can’t speak for the other route between Wanaka and Queenstown, but I can definitely recommend the shorter one

You may remember this guy, featured in my first post from New Zealand:

He was the first of what would be many new and interesting birds, many quite peculiar, that we encountered. Had I been on my own, I would have merely marvelled at them shortly and then moved on. But traveling with Aaron, a bit of a birder (or enough of one to pack a small set of binoculars!), I learned the fun of getting a closer look; identifying and learning about the birds, and checking off the ones we’d see.

The day we saw the shag, we picked up a guide book, “Which New Zealand Bird?”, a great book for the cycling tourist: focusing on the birds that you’re likely to see during a New Zealand trip, categorizing them by location type (i.e. by the ocean, farmland, forest, etc.), small, and durable.

Here are the birds spotted and identified on our trip:

Grey Warbler, Fantail, Tomtit, Silvereye, Bellbird, Blackbird, Tui, Morepork, NZ Falcon, NZ Pigeon, Weka, Kea, Goldfinch, Welcome Swallow, Yellowhammer, House Sparrow, Song Thrush, Starling, Chaffinch, Australian Magpie, Spur-Winged Plover, Australasian Harrier, Pheasant, Black-Billed Gull, Australian Coot, Australasian Shoveler, NZ Scaup, Pukeko, Mallard, Paradise Shelduck, White-Faced Heron, Black Swan, Black Shag, Pied Shag, Little Shag, White-Fronted Tern, Pied Stilt, Red-Billed Gull, Variable Oystercatcher, Black-Billed Gull, and the Royal Spoonbill.

I’m sure that list is helpful. How about the highlights instead:

The fantail was another bird seen on our first day and many times thereafter, mostly in forests near the coast. It would fan and un-fan its tail feathers and do so during its very loopy and flittering flight. They are not shy, no, they would make themselves known by flying back and forth in front of us, showing off cicada-catching skills, with short rests to watch us from close and low branches. Maybe they were defending their nests or looking for food, but I liked to think of their behaviour as playful and welcoming. (Silly human misinterpretations…)

We saw many silvereyes on the road, unfortunately not as animated as the fantail. “Why so much silvereye roadkill?”, we asked. Then one day we saw one fly hastily across the road and our path, swooping very low to the ground, and we understood.

Is that a kiwi?! one tourist asked. No, not a kiwi, just a weka. But not “just”, these are really cool birds! Alright, slightly chicken like, but prehistoric-looking and amusing to watch where their oblivious curiosity will take them.

Aaron taught me that sewage treatment ponds are great places to see a variety of birds, primarily waterfowl. Sewage Рseems kind of horrible. But the human waste makes terrific breeding grounds for many insects, meaning a sm̦rg̴sbord for the birds. So they like it, but a good reason to think twice about what you pour down the drain. In the pond pictured, we saw the graceful black swans, australasian shovelers, and the paradise shelduck with their beautiful plumage, always in pairs like bride and groom of the pond.

I read about one of New Zealand’s few owls, the morepork, before the trip. I didn’t understand how it could be named for its call until we camped at the Lyell DoC and in the middle of the night I woke up to “more pork! …… more pork!” echoing across the Buller Gorge. It really does say that! From then on, we’d hear them every few nights but never guessed we’d have the chance to actually see one. That is, until Okarito worked its magic. On our walk through the forest, as we turned around a corner I saw something brown and fairly large fly up into a tree. It was close enough to see, without binoculars, that it was indeed the morepork! So exciting! We still had a look through the binoculars and when I brought them to my eyes and saw wide owl eyes staring right back at me, it was stunning and spooky at the same time.

We saw our first Kea in a valley somewhere North of Okarito and there were a bunch who’d taken residence in Fox Glacier town. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a picture so the one above is from our guidebook. Note the artist’s rendition of the Kea’s habitat. Yeah… Our host in Fox Glacier suggested that we store our bikes in the garage. “Why?” we asked. “You know…the keas”, she responded, nodding slightly at a tall tree behind the property. Sure enough, 2 or 3 keas were roosted, eyes scanning the town for potential mischief.

I was grateful for the garage when, in the middle of the night, both Aaron and I woke up to a racket punctuated with witchy caws. Aaron went outside to investigate and reported back that the kea was having a go at a box of crackers (the lack of bears and raccoons in NZ makes for pretty lax food handling in campsites) and when he tried to shoo it away, the bird gave him a look that showed it was not threatened in the least (similar to a raccoon’s I imagined). They continued with their racket and once, thankfully only once, I heard one fly into or against our tent. I was actually a bit spooked, as one can get in the middle of the night, but Aaron calmed me by explaining that given the size and weight of a kea, if it really attacked me, I would have the advantage.

Good enough. I put in earplugs and they were not a problem again. But something to consider if I ever return and do any backpacking. Those keas are something fierce!

The morning of our last touring day, by which time the fantails and wekas had become a norm and we’d mostly forgotten about seeing any new birds, we were riding along a tidal flat area south of Waikouaiti and spotted a royal spoonbill. Its name describes it well, quite the exotic creature to see. I’d click the link (to Wikipedia) for photos closer up.

Before humans introduced mammals like cats and possums, birds ruled New Zealand and had a relatively predator-free life. This leant to the existence of many flightless species, like the kiwi, and fearless and/or too-curious species like the weka. Now many are being threatened by habitat loss (aka. deforestation, agriculture, mining, etc.) and predators against which they don’t know how to defend themselves. Sanctuaries and efforts to bring predator populations down exist but still, can the variety of species be maintained under human conditioning? I fear not…something to think about when we’re given the ability to speak up against the destruction of Canadian habitats.