I recently spent four days biking the West Coast Wilderness trail, and, despite the classic West Coast inclement weather, I loved it. Here's a quick rundown of my journey:
Day 1: Greymouth to Kumara
Only really half day of biking to start. It wasn’t too demanding, but I had less energy at the end of the three hours (much of it stopping to read signs or look at stuff) then on the rest of the trail.
I saw a dead bumblebee on the path in front of me as I left Greymouth. It strangely affected me. As I get older I find these things harder to bear.
The death of nature everywhere.
I pressed on, relying on my gut feeling to guide me when the signs disappeared. Trail markings seemed more consistent later in the trip, or maybe I became better at finding them.
The highlight of the day was the wooded section towards Kumara, where you lose the noise of the road and hear only water and bellbirds. Crossing the gorge was a treat. As was the pub at the end. We stayed in the backpackers, which was a bargain at $50 for the double room.
Day 2: Kumara to Lake Kaniere
Day 2 was a ride of over 50 km, mostly uphill. Despite the rain (my feet were wet within minutes and the rain crept in to the rest of my gear reaching all but my very core), it was my favourite day of the trip. The West Coast rainforest was stunning, with tree ferns, fun fungi, fern-lined avenues, and beautiful water races. A hare crossed my path to begin with and it seemed like a better omen.
I was guided by a shag (cormorant) flying over the lake as I came into the first shelter for a cup of tea and some River Cottage seedy slice.
Excuse photo quality. My phone doesn't do well in the rain.
After my first stop there was a slow incline. Sometimes it seemed like I might be on the level, even going down, but the tea-stained streams and water races beside the track would be running in the opposite direction.
After the boardwalk the trail goes along a well formed track that has been benched to take most water off it. I was never bogged down in mud like on some trails.
There is a high water route for when the weirs run too high to cycle through. I asked some electric bikers going the other way whether the weirs were open and they said they were but that they were too high for them to go through. Perhaps because they have batteries and electrics that would not do well in the mid calf water I found. It was fun to pedal through them on a pushbike.
When I finally arrived at Lake Kaniere, I was grateful for the drying room and hot shower at the homestay. The host, Grant, ran a tight ship, with a list of things to do to keep the place comfortable, including removing our muddy gear and keeping everything closed against the West Coast sandflies.
Day 3: Lake Kaniere to Hokitika
Day 3 started with a refreshing swim in the lake, with only a diving duck (scaup) for company. Along the way, I saw a South Island tomtit perched on a small tree, and we stared at each other for a few moments before it flew away.
The ride through the beautiful forest was easy and then I was going along the Hokitika river and back to civilisation with a jolt. A huge mass of pipes, concrete and steel embodies the talent Fontera has to make money from turning clean water into milk and dirty run off, before using coal to dry it into powder to ship overseas. But it is jobs and money. We need better jobs and more than just money. Clean rivers would be nice.
Day 4: Hokitika to Ross
The final morning of my trip was spent exploring Hokitika, a town that has suffered through the Covid pandemic and is struggling to get back on its feet now that tourists have returned. I was relieved to leave the shiny, happy and sterile campground (which was recently a natural swamp that was drained and filled in with gravel - isn’t it weird that we call areas like this “reclaimed”?) and get back into nature, although it took some time to do so.
I went over the concrete bridge that has been part of the taming of this wild river mouth and coast which used to wreck a ship every 10 days in the 1860s at the height of the Gold Rush. A time when men who often couldn't swim took their chances to get rich quick. That that gold rush mentality endures in New Zealand. Gold gave way to coal and sheep and now cows.
Then I rode past the golf course before taking a welcome turn into more regenerating nature reserve, escaping into dense thickets of new growth forest being greeted by the sound of bellbirds with traffic muffled, but the pounding surf breaking through.
Bellbirds sang me through the tunnel of trees that were near the wetland of Mahinipua reserve which ends at a weird plantation of tall trees,
Coming off the tramway track I was annoyed at myself to find I missed the turn for the picnic track to the lake — the only way to see it on this trail. A missed opportunity to swim as well. I didn't want to backtrack and add 4 km to the journey. So onward and out on the tarmac for a fairly easy ride for a few kilometres on a wide road with vehicles giving me a decent amount of room. A kea crossed my path as I cycled toward the Totara Lagoon.
It's a long boring slog along the old rail line to Ross. More than a dozen kilometres with nothing but track and flax for most of it. If I did the trail again I would probably stop at Treetops.
There was a brief reprieve in the monotony when flaxes gave way to show the wider expanse of the lagoon and the hills beyond. It didn’t last long before the flaxes closed back in again. When I got to the end of the rail line I should have headed to the finish but instead I turned right and had a welcome swim at Ross beach. If you stay at its very expensive campground you do have the advantage of being right by the beach. But I turned back to rejoin my other half at another pub before we headed on towards home.
Overall I enjoyed the trail immensely and recommend it as one of the best off road rides in New Zealand. My favourite sections were those that were in nature. Even if they were in the rain.