Sunday, 8 October
Oxford to Methven, 79.5 km
As I write, this leg of the journey is already a week in the past. I need to look through photos to remind myself: what made this day special?
The day was bookended by two of the South Island’s major rivers: first the Waimakariri and later the Rakaia. Both are dividers of the landscape, demarkations of territory. IN effect, the route today crosses from north Canterbury, through inland central, and into south Canterbury. A province compressed into regions labelled with nostalgic reminders of the ‘old country’ the colonial English had left behind – Oxford, of course, also Sheffield, Darfield, Charing Cross – and places named for what they found there – White Cliffs, Windwhistle, Coalgate.
Crossing high above the Waimakariri I can hear kayakers calling to one another and, looking down at from the southern end of the bridge, see a collection of boats pulled up at the rivers edge. I have no idea if it’s an annual event of perhaps a club out for the weekend. In any case, their thrill at the paddle down current is evident even from a distance and adds a note of joy to the morning.
The Rakaia Gorge is quite different, and it carries a different reputation. Steep both sides and narrow, it’s a river only the very experienced, or crazy, would paddle, I imagine. Perhaps farther downstream is more feasible. Winding down the north side from Windwhistle – the name says it all – I’m keeping fingers crossed for a wind-assisted climb up the other side. I’m in luck. The three-stage climb takes some effort but at least is doable. For there I can relax and take in the countryside the continues to rise slightly for the final 12 km of the day into Methven.