�go.I am in the small town of Middlemarch, on New Zealand's South Island. In a few months' time, Blind Billy's nicely grassed camp will be full of cyclists, brought here by the 150km Otago Central Rail Trail which leads through some of NZ's most isolated landscape.The route follows the former railway running between Middlemarch and Clyde, which closed in 1993. The journey is steeped in the history of gold prospectors, explorers and pioneer agriculturalists. Six years andmore than $850,000 were spent converting the rail line to use by a different form of transport.I am definitely not a recluse. I thrive on social activity. When not writing or photographing or on a long distance bike ride, I work in front line tourism. Yet, here I am, heading down the line, where the only sounds are the bleating of new-born lambs and the crunch of Big Apple tires on old railway ballast.The further I go, the more isolated it becomes just like the railways in New Zealand are like that. As I ride, I imagine the lonesome shriek of a steam locomotive's whistle.I constantly feel like I am in self-imposed solitary confinement. But prisons do not have these fine views. The early September wind freshens, unfortunately from the wrong direction. The enjoyment of the day seeps away as I pedal through 60km of strong headwind.A group of women pass, heading the other way, being propelled effortlessly by the wind at their backs. The day ends in the small art deco town of Ranfurly. Completely exhausted, I book into the Lion Hotel, having failed miserably to attain the typical 11km/hr average speed for the trail. Overnight, the wind changes. In the morning, my bicycle is half-buried in snow and most roads are impassable. I call off the day's ride without guilt.New Zealand Bike Pioneer
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