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Then, just a few kilometres farther, we were tempted by a turnoff to Okarito, a tiny village on the beach. We rode the 13 kilometres down there (and up a surprisingly steep hill) and decided to spend the night. There was a domain campground with hot showers and even a kitchen of sorts (with only a fridge and sink, no stove). It was quite a popular spot, with vans and tenters from all over, but no other cyclists.
The ride to Harihari was exceptional, with far better
views of the mountains than we had expected. With the exception of Mount
Hercules a damned difficult climb of two or three kilometres
the cycling was easy. We arrived in Harihari around 2 p.m. on Friday,
February 22, after only 57 kilometres of cycling. That was enough to bring
our distance to 2400 kilometres, 1500 miles. The weather was darkening,
and the forecast was for rain, so we decided to lay over inside for two
nights.
The centennial celebraion at Harihari on Saturday morning
began with a parade featuring a couple of local bands, people in period
costumes, and old cars. At the playing field, we enjoyed watching the
ladies' hoop race and the men's hay bale carrying competition, among other
things. The hay bale business was brutal. It was a competition of strength
and endurance. Competitors had to carry two bales back and forth from
one end of a field to the other, as many times as possible, without ever
setting down the bales.
On Sunday, February 24, we rode north from Harihari. We'd expected and prepared to ride in the rain, but the weather cleared quite quickly, and it was an enjoyable day of cycling. There were a few lakes along the way; the photo below is Lake Ianthe, looking south, 20 kilometres beyond Harihari. We stopped briefly at Pukekura, noted mainly for a tourist cafe with a giant sandfly out front (below left). Not long before Hokitika, in the village of Ruapapa, a house was nearly surrounded by carved tree stumps (below right).
We decided to push on just a bit farther after shopping in Hokitika.
We ended up only a few kilometres to the north at a particularly nice
motor park/campground owned by a woman we'd read about. She sells sock-knitting
machines all over the world, and a newspaper article described her effort
to open a museum in Hokitika featuring antique sock-knitting machines.
How's that for a tourist attraction! Her motor park/campground was called
Beachwalk Holiday Park, and it was excellent. Barbara maintains it may
have had the best shower anywhere. There was indeed a path to a wonderful,
wild beach. The day's ride came to 82 kilometres and brought us to approximately
half-way up the west coast.
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