Having only covered 50km yesterday, due to the epic saddle, today we plan to get back on track with a 126km journey to Lake Rotoroa via The Great Taste Trail. Following an early start featuring a nice moonset, I pack up my tent and the five of us head over to the campsite cafe and enjoy a big breakfast for the road. We then make our farewells to Alex who is taking a different journey today. The rest of us – myself, Finn, Will and Chris, head for the cycle lanes, departing ambitiously late for such a long journey, at 10am.

I enjoy social riding. On longer days, where the miles can start to feel like a slog, chatting with your pals can really kill the kilometers. This is my first time riding with Chris, and in many ways Finn and Will too, given that yesterday we mostly walked. After the first 20km, I hear a hissing from behind me and witness the sad look of a man whose patched tyre has just given up again. We take a break in the shade as Finn decides that at this point he’s better off putting a tube inside his tubeless tyre in order to avoid further issues. After this drama, we continue our ride with 20km of scenic farmland, journeying through vineyards and orchids, hence the name – ‘Great Taste Trail’. Unfortunately, with a long cycle ride ahead, we do not taste any wine. Disappointing. At one point, I pass Paora and pause to say hello. He is tasting coffee, courtesy of a couple he has befriended in a camper van.

Following a decent ascent, resulting in a team somewhat struggling in the intense heat of the sun, we are relieved to reach the entrance of Spooners Tunnel – a 1352m stretch of darkness, originally constructed for the railways. Every cycle trail is a former railway in New Zealand it would seem.

The temperature drop upon entry is substantial and we have fun whizzing along guided by the light of our head torches and bike lights. At one point, I suggest we turn all of these off to inspect just how dark it really is. Will thinks this is stupid because he hasn’t realised that I meant that we should stop cycling first.

We reach the end of the tunnel and are welcomed back into the gleaming forest. A very speedy 10km downwards ascent leads us to a cafe on the highway and we each tuck into our own meal of choice. For me, as is usual, this includes chips. As we are embracing the carbs, Paora turns up and joins us and we then continue as a group to the Four Square a few kilometers further along. We have realised that with no shops for the next 100km or so, it is a good idea to stock up on food.

There is a concern we share that it has now reached 4:30pm and we are exactly half way through today’s ride. There are no campsites or motels at all for the upcoming 40km, and the next one along does not have any water. That leaves us with the lake, 63km away. We accept that this will be a late one and that the head torches may come out for a second time today. We go ahead of Paora and motivate each other through a quick 20km on the sealed road. We pass something curious on the end of a driveway and have a closer look. It’s an honesty box filled with freshly squeezed apple juice and home-grown tomatoes. Finn pops a fiver in and we enjoy the light refreshment. This is a cute little pick me up we all need in order to get us through the next 40km or so.

Following the sealed road, we enter onto the gravel track and take a moment to lull in the evening sun before bashing out further miles. With about one third of today’s journey ahead of us, which includes quite the climb, the group is feeling a little disheartened. Not me though, I’ve caught a second wind and have been carried along by the sweet melodies of Norah Jones and Jill Barber.

We gently climb the gravel to the saddle. I am pleased to have enough energy to appreciate the scenery around me. The New Zealand landscape is possibly the best in the world and it looks even more impressive in the warm evening light. We pass a field of horses on our left, who put on a display for us, galloping in circles, as we cycle past. We then enter into the forest and enjoy the shade as we pedal onto Tadmor saddle. Having endured a few red herrings along the way, we are relieved to see a sign indicating that the ascent is truly over and we finally begin our downward ride. The gravel section is over in no time and we take a quick pause to turn on our blinkers and resurrect the high visibilities, before turning onto the state highway. It turns out that after 7:30pm, state highways are not very busy and we enjoy the peace as we descend onto the final leg of the day.

There is now only 10km and 100m of ascent separating us from our destination. The sun has now set, but the sky is still illuminating the road, with the pink and purple tones being reflected off of the smooth surface. We had anticipated this section turning to gravel, so are all pleasantly surprised. As we near the end of a long day, I find myself being blinded by sandflies and opt for putting on my sunglasses as means of protection. These have ended up getting pretty grubby today, so I find myself a little hard of sight. 9pm is also not the time of day to be wearing them.

Nevertheless, we safely reach our destination and take in a pretty view of the lake before the final climb to the camping ground. We hastily setup our tents, have a wash, with Will and Chris opting for a late night swim, and Finn and I sticking with the campsite sink. We then tuck into our respective meals and turn in for a well-earned sleep.

The next morning, I wake up at 6:30am and decide to head to the lake to enjoy sunrise. This is challenging when you’re being ambushed my sandflies. I have learned that the trick is to keep moving. I therefore do my morning stretches whilst occupying a very large space on the lakeside.

Once the sun has started peeping out from above the mountains, I then head back to the tent and catch up with the blog (meta). With a few sandflies having tailgated me, I decide to leave the tent open for a while as I wonder off to pay for the camping spot. Shortly after, I return to find about ten bumblebees at large inside of it. This is nothing compared to the swarm that begin gathering around my towel which is drying on a tree. It turns out that bees like blue. In the UK, we worry that the bees are disappearing. It turns out that they have all come to New Zealand (a lot like British citizens).

Chris set off early today, shortly after waking up. With Finn just leaving his tent now and no sign of Will at 10am, I decide to take a swim in the lake. The entry point is boggy, but I’d definitely rate it as the best temperature I’ve known a lake or river to be in New Zealand and therefore give it a solid 8 out of 10. It is also the only place that the sandflies won’t get you in (providing you stick your head under water).

With the team awake and assembled, we finally begin today’s ride at 12:30pm. Not our best effort. We start on a steep gravel hill before descending down lovely sealed road and head for a cafe in Murchinson. We left so late today that Paora, who wrapped yesterday up roughly 50km prior to us, arrives in the cafe at about the same time. I treat myself to a delicious veggie burger, followed by several desserts, and we enjoy a two hour lunch break, resulting in another day of beginning the more than 60km leg two of the journey at 4:30pm. We start this section with very little plan of how far we will go, with the acceptance that we may just pitch tents in the bush somewhere. It is what it is.

The sealed road turns to gravel and we begin the ascent of yet another saddle. This is misleadingly challenging to begin with, with an intense gradient, which fortunately mellows out into a charming ride up into the forest, with several dips passing through overflowing streams. I learn that I can keep my feet dry by lifting my legs up and doing the splits on my bike as I hit the water. Will and Finn do not embrace this technique. Their loss.

With the shared mindset of getting it done and a disparity between our energy levels, we find ourselves spreading out and I eventually reach the summit with Finn waiting for me and Will arriving a few minutes after. Once again, the end of the climb is clearly signposted and we share joy in the fact that it is all downhill from here. We whizz down the gravel path and onto the sealed road, again turning the blinkers on given it is past 7pm. The last 10km of gentle climb passes by quickly, with the sky glowing purple again and reflecting against the surface. One noteworthy moment is when Finn pauses briefly opposite a field of cows and gets angrily moo-ed at until he leaves. I have never known cows to be so vocal nor so opinionated.

We arrive at the motel in Maruia. Will had called ahead and we had already learned that there are no rooms, but we are offered to sleep on the school field adjacent, provided that we make a donation. Camping in a school playground is not something I had ever anticipated doing, but I will take it over a ditch on the side of the road. I look forward to spending some time on the swings tomorrow.

Once our tents are set up, we sit together and eat dinner. Will makes a unit of risotto, featuring the onion he has been carrying for three days, and I eat a lot of bread with sun dried tomatoes and olives. I also devour an entire chocolate bar. This has become an evening norm for me. I check my phone and see that Paora has just pulled in, though he has been offered a spot outside the army facilities (there’s a lot going on here). He joins us for dinner and then we all potter off to bed. As I am falling asleep, I hear the gentle pitter-patter of rain on my tent. I pray that this shower is short-lived. Tomorrow, I am separating from Finn and Will, as I tackle the Big River Trail and they take the highway bypass, along with Paora. Rain is not good. The river is not easy to pass when it has rained.

It is Sunday morning. I wonder if they would have let us camp here a day later. I wouldn’t want to wake up surrounded by children playing. Nor would they wish to play with three strange men getting up in their playground, with the fear that one may have washed his armpits in the water fountain the night before. I eat my breakfast, a packet of doughnuts on this occasion, make pleasantries with Finn, then Will (who is eating cold leftover risotto for breakfast) and at 9am, we hit the road again. Paora has of course set off an hour before because he has his act together.

The journey starts with a gentle gravel track, in which Will asks me many questions related to physics, which I enjoy, before switching back to sealed road at Springs Junction and treating us to a modest ascent. Finn falls behind because he didn’t eat 1kg of risotto in the past ten hours and is feeling it, but we reconvene at the saddle (another one), and enjoy a 500m descent over 36km into Reefton. I manage to zoom ahead and am left with the task of picking which venue to eat at (from about three options). I of course choose the one with Paora’s bike parked outside and find him sitting at the first table upon entry.

We fill ourselves up with a lot of food – two meals in Finn’s case, which I think he needs. It is strange that this will be it for a while. After this sit down, I will head onto the Big River Road (suitable only for four-by-fours) and the others will take the highway. We all have similar end date goals, but by signing myself up for an additional six hours of challenging riding, I can’t be sure that I will catch these folks up again. I hear Finn and Will joking that they are different people to when they started the trip and they are not wrong. It is mad to think back to just one month ago, before I had even started. I hadn’t yet landed at Bay of Islands airport with missing handlebar washers, to be rescued by the wonderful Bex and Co, nor had I bravely cycled 90 Mile Beach two days back to back. I hadn’t met Sherree or Markus 1 and 2. With so many hellos and goodbyes, this trip has begun to feel a bit eternal and for the first time, I really do feel closer to the finish than to the start. The end is comprehensible now, whereas the start feels like a distant memory.

With Paora already off on the road again and Will and Finn recharging (themselves and their power banks), I pop into Four Square for some fruit and get chatting with a piano player on the way back. Much like my wonderful father, he is in his mid-60s and called Tony. He has attempted the Big River before – cycling it, walking it and running it. This absolute hero of a man has run a 2:37 marathon and has accumulated a distance of 200,000km over his time on Earth. That’s roughly five laps of the planet. Shortly after, I see two men checking out our bike setups and we get chatting. They have cycled New Zealand, the length of the UK and most of Europe. They tell me that the Big River is a lesser challenge than the saddle we did as a group a few days ago. We will see if this holds true.

With enough time spent chatting, and with a tricky journey ahead, I mount my bike and pedal away, waving goodbye to Finn and Will outside the Four Square supermarket, our home from home.