By Kari Bodnarchuck, Globe Correspondent
To avoid panicking, I focused on maintaining my balance and freeing my legs, which had disappeared up to my knees in mud. I gripped the handlebars and tugged fiercely as my bike’s wheel slipped toward an abrupt edge beyond which was a 200-foot drop to the meandering stream. A limestone cliff, called Battleship Bluff, loomed overhead. One by one my fellow bikers and I attempted to walk our bikes across a fresh 20-foot-long mudslide, politely called a “slip” in this part of the world.
Pictured: Sandy Waters of New Zealand, pauses for a minute after trudging across a knee-deep mudslide on Battleship Bluff.