There have been a few places in our travels where, when leaving, we've breathed a sign of relief and said, "Thank you, God" (for getting us out safely).
The first I remember was a POP (Park over Property = a private property where people have kindly offered a place for NZMCA members to park over). The gentleman had advertised his space as suitable for big rigs and insisted someone with a large rig had previously fitted down the side of his house. Being both naive and desperate to stay in the area (with not many other options), we decided to give it a go. We got up the top of his driveway, then tried to turn across in front so we could back down the side of his house. Nope. it was not going to happen. We couldn't get far enough around to straighten up so that we could even start the rig backing in the other direction. On the first try, common sense finally kicked in and we decided to abandon the idea. I questioned the man again about the "big rig" that had fitted in here before. He then admitted that they had backed all the way up! Uphill. All the way up his narrow drive. By now, we just wanted to be out of there. There was only one way . . . to back down. As I said, his drive was quite narrow. It had a bank on one side and a drop on the other. We eventually escaped undamaged. Off to find a safer and easier place to stay the night.
The next place was another POP. This time in Wanaka. To access this place, we had to go over one of those humps in the road where you cannot see the road ahead as it drops so sharply. And as you go over, the road dips around to the left. Well, we got in. But after staying a couple of nights parked in a paddock while it rained continually, we were getting rather concerned about getting out. The previous day a motorhome had left and another one arrived, and we'd been in and out in our ute, so the paddock and the track were getting rather muddy and slippery. We had two neighbours, both wanting to leave. The caravan managed to get out without too many problems. The new arrival, with front wheel drive, was having problems even getting started on the grass, so we went to help out with the pushing. He got out of the paddock and almost up that hill, then rolled back down for a second try. This time he was successful. Dave and I had a quick discussion and decided getting out was not going to get any easier. We had originally planned to stay three nights but with the continuing rain, wondered if we could be stuck there for longer than planned. Being very thankful for four-wheel drive, we managed to get hitched and out of the paddock. However, about two metres from the top of the hill, wheels started spinning . . . . Dave let it run back down to the flat and had another go. This time going slightly wider to avoid a tree root. When it finally crept up and over the top (I was watching from up top), I realised I'd been holding my breath. Another, "Thank you, God".
This latest was a VERY bumpy road into the Orari River Mouth near Clandeboye, north of Timaru. The comments on the phone app had said it was a "bad road", but I'd thought, "How bad can it be? Probably just an unsealed road. No problem!" Wrong! This was the beginning of the road.
It looks very innocuous and hides its hidden tortures rather well.
After you've turned onto the road, there's no way out other than by backing up. There's a fence on one side and a bank on the other. No room to turn. No room to even pass an oncoming vehicle.
Much of the way, our speedo registered 0 kph. I think we got up to maybe 7. Once. If you can imagine a continuous piece of corrugated iron, multiply it in size so the wheel fits in each dip, then have the dips alternate so that your left wheel goes in one, then the right. We rocked and rolled the whole way down this road, wondering if we would ever come to the end. I don't think these photos really tell the full story.
The puddles were in many ways a reprieve. They were usually just one massive pothole rather than several. Fortunately we did not meet anyone, (although several cars arrived—and left—after we'd reached our destination). We stopped halfway along this road to check inside the rig—that's how bad it was. This was the widest part of the road.
We finally got to the end. Not even a view of the sea from where we parked, but okay otherwise. I strongly suspect my attitude towards the place was coloured by my feeling about the road in. We could have pulled the rig up on the ridge to have a view, but a guy we spoke to warned us about the spray from the sea. Also, there seemed to be a bit of loose metal to climb through. Having already managed to get in without sustaining any damage, we weren't keen to push our luck, so we stayed down on the flat.
The Orari River Mouth
Note: All photos of the road were taken on the way out. I was too busy hanging on—and praying for a safe passage—to be taking any photos on the way in!
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