The land is dramatic in an unfamiliar way: bare tawny slopes, tumbled grey rocks, thyme and briar on the dry banks, and a sky so clear that the light seems brittle. Mountains of the Southern Alps stand blue and white behind the nearer ranges, and the contrast between the dry foreground and the snow behind is one of the great views of the South Island.
The region was built on gold. Prospectors poured into the valleys in the 1860s, and the rock and water of this area still show the scars of their sluicing and tunnelling, with stone huts and tailings left among the bushes. When the Clyde Dam was built in the 1980s, the old town of Cromwell was partly drowned beneath Lake Dunstan and the historic buildings were moved up the slope to form a new heritage precinct. Today the fruit tells the later story: apricots, cherries and peaches ripen in the summer heat, roadside stalls sell them by the bag, and the vineyards produce some of the country's best pinot noir.
On a motorcycle this is a delight. The roads run through the gorge of the Kawarau river, over passes, along dry terraces and past orchards, and they are quiet, well surfaced and filled with open bends. Summer is hot enough that you will want ventilated gear and plenty of water, and the wind can pick up in the afternoon, while in winter frost and black ice are real and some higher roads are closed. Autumn, with its gold poplars, willows and vines, is the best time for colour.
Cromwell, about twelve kilometres away, has fuel, food and places to stay, and the town's big fruit sculpture on the highway is a landmark you cannot miss. Queenstown is further, so top up here if you plan to go on. A glass of local pinot and a plate of cheese at a cellar door make a fine end to the day, but watch the afternoon sun and wait before you ride again.