Maybe we love cycle touring so much because it's a mode of travel with little chance of puking. Put us on a ferry across the choppy Southern Ocean, or a three-stop, 12-hour air travel day and we’re begging for two wheels on solid ground.
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“Sweet as”: New Zealand Week 12
There's no worse sense of meteorological dread than spotting a raincloud teem down a kilometre away, and watching it creep steadily in your direction. You feel soaked already as the hazy grey sheet of water unloads on its target, revving its drenching engine for...
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When you almost pee your pants in the morning because the tent zipper is frozen shut: New Zealand Week 11
Two of a cycle tourist’s favourite words are “rail trail” – smooth, quiet paths converted from steam power to pedal power, far away from car traffic and, best of all, no climbs or descents steeper than one or two percent.
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Moseying merrily through our many-month marathon: New Zealand Week Ten
Even Sitka could tell we were hooped.
“We've already been this way, like, a thousand times,” our six-year-old groaned as we darted determinedly around a corner and into yet another dead end.
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Forget Ms. Frizzle, we’re riding the Magic School Bikes: New Zealand Week Nine
Sometimes parenting is like a hyperactive game of Trivial Pursuit.
“Where does water come from?” “What's my blood for?” “When did the first human happen?” “How are glaciers formed?”
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The simple art of spoiling your kids (and yourselves) on the road: New Zealand Week Eight
For two months Sitka has been compiling his 6th birthday activity checklist: ride a horse (must be a cute horse); eat a kiwi fruit cake on the beach; cross the 2,000 km mark for our trip; set a family one-day distance record; and pet...
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How we fuel four famished bike bodies
When we stop for groceries on a family cycling tour, the whole store knows it. After biking, camping and running wild in wide open spaces for a few days, our feral boys charge through the aisles like they've been licking moss off rocks on...
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Modern explorers, endless newness: New Zealand Week Seven
It's pure peace.
Like I’m living inside a meditation tape, I hear only the soothing waves of the sea. Open my eyes and I'm still there – perched on a driftwood log, watching the tide slide out of Tasman Bay.
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Cruising to the Capital, and Away to South Island: New Zealand Week Six
On every cycle tour, there are stretches where little glitches start to nag: something rubbing on your tire that you can't quite figure out, never catching enough morning sun to dry out your tent, or every night someone different having to pee at 2am...
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Volcano treks and extraordinary kindness: New Zealand Week Five
It's easy to underestimate what a kid can do. Their little legs require double the effort to get the same results as the fully-grown, and their willpower is prone to simple distractions like a stick shaped like a sword, or a rock... any rock.
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