Paragliding in Queenstown is our second favorite activity in NZ. We have a new winner. Mountain Biking the Old Ghost Road is the new No. 1 experience of our 6+ months in this country. The old ghost trail links 7 ghost towns from the gold mining days.
We were advised that this trail is not for the faint of heart. That it is for experienced riders only; expect narrow trails, steep long inclines, hazards and shear drop offs. OK, so we expected a cliff, some narrow trails and some rocks, but probably not at the same time, and probably not all of the time. Noooo. This trail was definitely not oversold. From meter 1 all I could see between my wheels and the river gorge below was AIR. Full disclosure: the first meter and next 50 were on a 2-plank suspension bridge over a river. I class suspension bridges by the width in blanks; the blanks being about 8” wide. 2-plankers are wobbly. You start walking like a drunk after about 8 steps when the bridge gets a swingin’. After that, the trail on the other side of this bridge, and for the rest of the day had nothing but air straight down to a river or deep mountain gorge probably 100-200 meters. There was probably an hour in total of time during the entire 2.5 day trek when we did not have a mistake-and-you-die cliff on one side or both. Some of the drops were really, really long.
First day was all uphill: 1800 meters elevation gain over 28 km. We finished at a hut set up for sheltering backpackers and bikers. It was equipped with a wood stove, gas burners, water (that needed boiling) and compost toilets. And bunks. No light. 4 other bikers; all billy goat, adventure racer types, were already there and had the fire burning. Everyone cooked freeze-dried backpacker dinners and hit the bunks early. When we woke up to frost and ice and an amazing sunrise (below us) we realized how high we had really climbed. That morning was such an incredible experience. Some of you may have seen pictures of me out in the frost in my pj’s with these 4 other guys (strangers) taking pictures of the sunrise.
Then when we biked down this “hill” and looked back at the cliff that our hut was atop we really realized how high we had climbed. The first 4 Km down this track were really hairy.
Only the most experienced mountain bike crazys could bike this: it was a spline with survivable cliff on both sizes; steep descent, boulders (not rocks), sometimes hard to even ascertain the trail, and icy. Then we hit the wooden stairs: 300 or so, narrow, steep, small tread area. Not enough room to move your bike alongside you. Bike had to be bounced down on its back wheel, with your hand on the brake. Lose your bike, and you will not be able to retrieve it. Mark thought this was the hardest part of the whole track. Me: one of the billy goat gents came back and gallantly took my bike down most of the stairs for me. Then more icy boulders for awhile. Second day was 40 km.
Second night was another idyllic location for a hut along a river. Every hut had its resident weka. Weka are chicken sized birds that some tourists mistake for kiwis. They are cheeky and will steal bungee cords off the bikes, gloves and helmets. Everything outside needed to be tied down. Another night of “gourmet” freeze dried food, with the same 4 other bikers.
The final day was easy in comparison to the first 2, but still nearly all on the cliff over a river gorge a hundred meters or more below. Every morning I had to get at one with that cliff. Every morning I started scared and cautious before I got tired of that and got to riding my bike. We passed 5 or 6 backpackers along the way. We actually passed most a few times as we passed back and forth early in the day until we put them behind us. So what is it about backpackers that they always turn their back to you when you pass? And forget that they have a pack that is about double their width? Every time, I nearly was swept off the cliff by the swipe of their packs. Luckily I never tried to ride past, but stopped and carefully traversed the cliff around the backpacker.
NZ is beautiful every day, but the scenery along the Old Ghost notched it up. It is one of those places pictures cannot capture. Further, pictures cannot communicate the height of the cliffs and the steepness of the dropoffs. In 2.5 days, and 85 km, we hit every type of terrain NZ has to offer: lots of rain forest, alpine tundra and rocky areas. At times we were hot and sweaty, and the next half hour freezing. We must have crossed 40-50 bridges,most suspension (3 blank); most really high; and more half bridges (a half bridge is when a wooden walkway is affixed to a part of the cliff where the trail has fallen away), 50 or so creek crossings. These creeks were our water source, some of which were springs popping up out of the ground right in front of us. Crazy for Americans to drink water straight from a creek without treatment. It was definitely a once in a lifetime experience.
