With only 40km to do today (though admittedly on a hilly single track), I treat myself to a leisurely start. I eat my breakfast and wave off the two other cyclists staying at the campsite – a Swiss man named Patrick and a German named Markus. That’s my second German Markus of the trip. He’ll have a hard time competing with the first one. From here onwards, he shall be referred to as Markus 2.0.

The trail starts by winding gently through thick forest. Technically, it’s not very challenging, in my opinion – just a pleasant, scenic ride. With the morning having been chilly and foggy, I am pleased to see the sun come out in all of its glory and I pause to let my solar panel charge up my power bank whilst I am in a rare sunny clearing. Two nights with no electricity has meant that I am running low on power. As I am recharging, another cyclist approaches, Kathi, from Pennsylvania. We have a chat and I learn that she has been through it. She teaches me of a tricky track on the South Island from which she had to be rescued (worth avoiding apparently) and that she had even had her laptop stolen from a motel room in Christchurch! One has to admire her persevering spirit. We then cycle on.

Having passed the first peak, I bomb it down the bumpy mud track, arriving at the first suspension bridge of the trail, transporting one over Bog Inn Creek. I glide over it, feeling the vertigo, and I am met on the other side by Kathi and Paora. This isn’t a bad moment for a drone shot and I invite Kathi and Paora to cross again should they like to have a clip of them on the bridge. They each cross over in turn and then I join. As I am halfway along, another rider appears at the other end, somewhat flustering me. Focusing on this and controlling my vertigo, I lose sight of the drone. I then look down at the screen of the controller and am faced with the ghastly footage of tree branches and chaos. The drone has crashed. I dismount from my bike and begin figuring this out. Kathi, bless her, cycles over to help with the great drone search. I activate the ‘find my drone’ feature and we listen out for the beeping. We hear it and struggle to determine which tree it has got itself wedged in. What follows is an hour of hunting, with Kathi shaking tree branches and climbing up high to aid my search. Markus 2.0 and Patrick turn up and try to help and a group of three Kiwi men also pass by and enjoy the drama.

With the drone battery down to 10%, I make a judgement call and decide to use the remaining power to send all of the footage from the drone to my controller. We will never find it with the beeping. Kathi cycles on and I have a snack and continue for an hour or two. I thoroughly analyse the crash footage and am able to determine which tree the drone must be in, based on its view when it crashed and tumbled and the types of foliage in shot as it took its dying breath. I enjoy the riddle, but eventually decide that it is a lost cause. Even if I find it, there is no way that I will retrieve it. It is inevitable that we will be parting ways.

Having completed the uphill leg of the day, I glide through the last 20km to camp (gliding downhill on a mountain biking trail is roughly 10km/h). I catch up with Kathi, the three Kiwi men I had met earlier and a man named Izra. Izra has done the Tour Aotearoa before and Kathi has done specific legs of it. They give me even more good advice for the South Island. This campsite offers free breakfast bits. I was expecting bread and cereal, but they have all sorts, including eggs. Craving the protein, I eat four of them. I chat with Izra and the Kiwi group and then set off to bed, with my tent in a lovely, little, secret spot that I have found for myself.

I take it easy in the morning and set off at about 10am (having eaten four more eggs for breakfast). I quickly pass Patrick and Markus 2.0 again at the largest suspension bridge of the track. I pause halfway to enjoy the view and then Markus 2.0 runs up enthusiastically to take a photo. I like Markus 2.0. He doesn’t speak much English, but he seems to be full of glee 100% of the time. He takes a photo of me riding and as I continue, I struggle to maintain balance with his running back to Patrick shaking the entire bridge. I then pass my three Kiwi pals again and they speak of a Belgian woman who has passed them who set off at 6am, committing herself to the whole trail in one day.

Shortly after the last big peak of the trail, I find a little spot for a snack and a suncream break. These suncream breaks are important – a lesson I had learned on day one. Following a delightful set of sandwiches, I then make haste and quickly find myself swerving to avoid squishing a hedgehog that has pondered into the path. That could’ve been the saddest flat tyre of my entire life. I have a word with him and suggest that he find somewhere else to loiter before continuing my own journey.

After a few hours of fairly easy, scenic riding, I make it to the end of the trail and onto the road. The road starts sealed before transitioning into that standard New Zealand gravel. I take a rest stop with a pretty view and have myself a snack before doing the last 20km of the journey.

As I pull into my Airbnb and start dismantling the panniers from the bike, I notice a problem. One of the bolts in one pannier has popped out of its socket. This means that the whole thing is hanging slightly, putting more strain on the other bolts. If I had a pair of pliers or a drill, this would be an easy fix, but I am travelling light… this is a job that can wait until tomorrow. For now, I need food. Having just had a few days with no shops on route and with a similar period ahead, I make my way to the supermarket before it closes. As I am searching for cereal bars, I hear a hello and find two men staring at me. Ah, it’s Patrick and Markus 2.0! I didn’t recognise them for a moment wearing human clothes. We have a lovely exchange again and wish each other a pleasant evening. I then ride my bike back home and treat myself to a ginormous meal of salad, avocado and rice. It has been too long since I have eaten a vegetable.

So that’s the Timber trail. I am eight eggs heavier and one drone lighter. The device will now become a relic of this time, a reminder to whoever finds it in the far future, that people used to film in landscape before TikTok took over. I suppose, for my drone, there are worse places one can get stuck. So finally allowing myself to move on, to my old friend, the drone, I quote the twelfth Doctor in saying that this is not a bad place to spend eternity.