The weekend before my flight out, I went on a “shakedown ride”, where you put on all your gear and do a comparably difficult route to see what rattles out of the woodwork. I’ve written about the gear adjustments I made after the ride, and this post is about the ride itself.

Weather was stunning, a quintessential Canterbury autumn day: crisp, sunny, with no wind. I headed up Hackthorne Rd with my bike, weighing in at 32 kg, and no audiobook or music because I was feeling particularly puritanical, wishing to be one with my bike and the morning birdsong.

I promptly forgot that this is the steepest bit and soon found myself red-faced and despairing at how hard it all felt. 10 minutes and 100 metres of elevation in, I had already stopped to catch my breath as pairs of senior citizens in lycra cheerily nodded good morning as they zoomed past. The load on the bike was (obviously) making a huge difference, and all my bravado from the previous week’s first-time breeze up Dyers Pass was quickly melting away. Cue self-doubt and embarrassment that I thought it possible without being the sort of person who actually trains properly, etc. etc.

I gave up on my asceticism and plugged into my friend Elina’s new podcast called Making Good Money, which is about how we do impact work (not just “ethical business” that still relies on infinite growth) while maintaining financially stability - pretty awesome topic, well executed! The interesting discussions got me past the remainder of the steep bit, after which the climb becomes much more gradual (a fact that my brain had conveniently forgotten 20 minutes prior).

I got to the Sign of the Kiwi, a saddle overlooking Christchurch on one side and Lyttelton Harbour on the other, in 45 mins. Mum, Dad, and Eden (the dog) were perched at the cafe waiting with a date scone and smoothie, looking mildly impressed but mostly anxious that this is the manner in which their eldest daughter wants to risk her life and their sanity 😅 but they have been supportive nevertheless, for which I am very grateful. I scoffed the food, patted the dog, patted mum’s arm, and set off again up the Summit Road.

I didn’t take more photos but it was a perfect ride: no wind, not too hot, not too busy. I felt like I was floating smoothly above the surface, both on the ups and the downs, the heavy bike getting me to 40-50 kmph on the downhills (I’m too scared to go faster than that 😅 if you’re also thinking of touring but are reading all these accounts of people doing 70 kmph on the downhills, here is your reminder: you don’t have to do that!)

I rode down to Lyttelton for a leisurely lunch with friends Ingrid Anna & Sam, chatted about their roof’s solar panels potential and patted their affectionate neighbourhood cat. Then I rode to Sumner to see friends Fer & Peter who had just had a baby, going for a slow walk along the beach with baby in the front pack. I got home feeling immensely satisfied, glad for the minor gear-adjustment learnings, and confident that I can do this (which remains to be seen!)