For something different, Simon, Katie and I planned a bike packing trip. I had an abundance of bike packing gear lying around from previous trips and over zealous purchasing from Ali Express. Katie borrowed a little more gear for herself and between us we kitted out three bikes for a short trip up the Poulter River in Arthurs Pass National Park. We decided to go light, which was quite unusual, and only packed freeze dry and couple of packets of crackers and snacks.
We left on a Saturday morning and went via the Sheffield Pie shop where we purchased no less than seven pies and a bag of biscuits. It was a pie for morning tea and then later on a pie for lunch. We drove to Mt White station and along the gravel road to the DoC car park above the Poulter. With not too much faffing we had our gear on our bikes and were ready.
The wind was ferocious as we started off and coming directly at us. We rolled down towards the river, correcting our path with a short climb through matagouri. The rough 4wd track took us along near the river before climbing up over a hilly lump and then dropping down again. There were some ridable bits interspersed with not so ridable bits and always the howling headwind. As we rode, the wind continued at full force and in parts made it was hard to ride straight or even stay on our bikes. After an hour or so out came our second Sheffield pies and disappeared quickly.
The plan had been to ride up the Poulter to the Trust Poulter Hut and then continue on foot to the Poulter Hut but arriving at the Casey hut perhaps 5 hours after starting we decided to stay there for the night instead. There were just four others in the hut so plenty of room for us too.
The following day we continued up the Poulter river arriving at the small and well kept Trust Poulter hut 1.5 hours later. During our short lunch there, Katie claimed the title of “The sunscreen queen” after slapping huge quantities on herself. We quickly found two more nick names for Simon and I so as not to feel left out. Simon earned the name “the prostate prince” for his painful journey on his unforgiving bike seat. I became the “meat stick master” as I shaved pieces of the well endowed salami for our picnic.
We ate lunch in the shade outside the hut while the sandflies ate theirs. After stashing our bikes we continued on by foot sidling into the stony river bed. My friend the wind was back in full force. We reached the Poulter Hut after 45 minutes or so and spent the afternoon lazing in the hut. My friend the wind didn’t let up all night.
We left earlyish the next day with the goal of getting back out to the road end. We walked back to the Trust Poulter Hut attached our bags to our bikes and began riding out. This time for better or worse we followed the Poulter River instead of the tramping track. This resulted in a number of river crossings carrying our bikes from one side to the other and back again. The wind had been absent in the morning but made itself known later on and for the first time we were pushed along by it rather than held back.
