As such, I thought it best to turn off my alarm before going to bed the night before and allowing myself to wake up naturally. While I felt fine (relative to the effort on my body on day one), I knew I had not been in a good state arriving into Arthurs Pass that night.

Having been told a bit about Hokitika prior to departing on my trip I went for a bit of an exploration around the town (about 100km into the day). While I was stopped at a supermarket to pick up some bananas and powerade, a local started chatting to me interested in what I was doing. I told him where I was heading and asked whether there was anything he thought I should check out along the way.  He went on to tell me about some back road that he recommend I take. While adding an extra 10km to my day, he assured me it was worth the effort. 

While it would be lovely to assume that everyone has the right intentions, that is not always the practical assumption. After tossing up my options and deciding whether it was a safe idea or not, I decided to take his suggestion.

I can assure you it was worth it.

It did however remind me of two things:

(1) Always take the back road

(2) The best views are always the hilly ones!

From being surrounded by mountain ranges and snow from every direction at the beginning of day two to riding for 70km without any sight of civilisation, to then being surrounded by water and the coastline for the remaining 100km…

Day 3 was set out to be a big one.

When you ride big distances in one day, you often notice the same people passing by multiple times throughout the day.

I had identified about 10 different cars all whom overtook me at least three times throughout this day and a number I had noticed from the previous day. As I was approaching the top of a climb at the 180km mark, I saw a number of people pulling over to take photos, so I put on my best sheep impression and did the same.

Although my real thought processing was probably more resemblant of ‘oh, this seems like the perfect excuse to put my feet up and get off my bike!’ because I had noticed how different my pedal stroke was becoming due to the rash getting irritated every time I straightened my leg. Not really an ideal scenario at this point.

As I was minding my own business, being a tourist, I had a number of people approach me to inform me they had passed me multiple times that day and show their admiration for having doing so. As I explained where I was going or had come from, the most common reaction was bewilderment both by the distances I was covering and the fact that I was a young female travelling on my own.

While I acknowledge people think it can be scary or dangerous travelling solo as a young female, I have never fully understood why people are so uncomfortable with their company.

For me it the purest form of solitude.

And when it comes to the pedalling, well that’s basically just a mental game. A combination of ignoring fatigue and finding perspective in what it is you are doing.

Honestly, I think if you can find a balance in the latter, the former comes naturally.

Once I hit the top of the hill and had a bit of a rest (or took photos, you choose your excuse), I was pretty done with exploring, so the final 25km turned into a 40min TT to my accommodation for the night.