The last couple of weekends have brought us beautiful weather, that great time when the chill is gone, the peak temperatures are still quite nice, and it is all that much better when you have been hoping for this weather for weeks.Photo: Walter Lettink, friend, trail guide, wicked rider.
On a sunny winter day a couple of months ago I tried tackling the Port Hills, the range that is the southern limit of Christchurch and its 'burbs. Homes are built up maybe the first quarter of the way to the top, and above them is a large system of trails managed by the District of Canterbury. At the time, the ride was a genuine slag. The trails were saturated. They apparently stay that way during the winter. I only saw a couple of miles of the trails, and it seemed nice, but I had to watch the clock due to the limited daylight, it was a little cold, and I didn't know exactly where I was or where to turn to head down off the hills.
These last two weekends have proven that these trails are much better when it gets a little sunshine. You have to start out with a pretty good workout getting up to the trails along the summit. Then the views are great off each side. Finally you get to enjoy the long downhill run back to sea level.
I have also learned that there are a ton of cyclists around here. No wonder there are so many bike shops. Seriously half the people that I saw on the roads around the Port Hills were either on bikes or toting them with their cars.
Both rides the past couple of weekends started in about the middle of the hills. A week ago we got to the top then headed out on toward the coast. The views were spectacular, as the photos show. One minute the Kaikoura Mountains were in view on the northern horizon, snow covered; the next we were looking down on Lyttleton, the same town on the southern side of the Port Hills where Ana, the kids, and I went the day before for the farmers' market and coffee. At one point we watched some paragliders taking trips from the summit to a valley below. (see photo)Toward the end of the ride we descended into what can best be described as beach villages. Sumner and Scarborough lie out on the end of the foothills. As maps show, in contrast to the photos, they are only a matter of kilometers from the center of Christchurch, but they feel like they could just as easily be a world away. Out of sight, out of mind. They have their own rhythm, clearly their own scenery, and some great coffee shops, as I can attest after the stop we made in Sumner at the end of the ride.
Sitting in the coffee shop, looking out at the traffic passing on the street, I watched literally dozens of bikes go by-- mountain bikes, roadies; some in packs of five or six, others individually. There were a lot of folks cycling.
The next week Walter and I left from the same point, ascended to the summit, then turned inland. We dropped back down Kennedy Bush Track, the most inland trail of the system, then turned back uphill on Worsley Road (the same surname as on of the officers on the Shackleford expedition. Coincidence?), which terminated into a jeep trail, a rutted, steep trail that, at least for me, was a gutbuster. After traversing back toward the middle of the hills, we dropped down some technical track that intermingles with the downhillers' tracks. It was a warmer day, so the sweat was pouring, but again the views were worth it. I also noticed that the snowcaps have also shrunk significantly on the inland mountains in just a week's time.
And as for the cyclists, there must have been twice as many as last weekend. The hills were crawling with them, both on the trails and the roads.
There are so many trails to still cover, and so few weekends to get to go see them!
The view of Sumner from above.
The view from the trail past Sumner toward downtown Christchurch.
