So in the end, my wife and I did no preparation whatsoever. As far as I can recall, I haven't ridden a bike since I left school. Somewhere along the line my wife bought a bike, but it was dispatched to the tip recently after it occurred to her that it hadn't left the garage for a decade and a half.
Before hitting the trail, we spent a weekend with friends in Wanaka. The bikes in their garage obviously got a lot of use. When we admitted we hadn't done any preparation, they chuckled enigmatically. I detected traces of amusement, bemusement, pity and exasperation.
It was the sort of chuckle you might produce if a middle-aged acquaintance, renowned for emptying karaoke bars with a couple of verses of Sweet Cherry Wine, announced he or she was entering New Zealand's Got Talent and, what's more, was quietly confident of going all the way.
There may also have been an undertone of "don't come crying to us when your nether regions start to feel as if they've been kicked to Queenstown and back".
I'm pleased to report that it never got to that stage. No doubt those who do some training are better off for it, but I suspect the only thing that can really prepare you for biking 150km on a gravel road is biking 150km on a gravel road.
Our companions on the ride quickly discovered that a few sessions on an exercycle hadn't made them immune to saddle soreness.
When you get to the highest point on the trail, there's a sign proclaiming that it's all downhill from there. Psychologically that's probably the case; topographically it's an over-statement.
We couldn't have had better weather; it was beautifully fine without being oppressively hot and with hardly a breath of wind. We didn't find the rail trail aerobically taxing, but then we never had to battle into a headwind. It wouldn't take much - the merest zephyr, barely enough to stir the long grass on the side of the track, made its presence felt.
The bad news is that you will suffer saddle soreness, although gel seat covers certainly soften the blow. The good news is that it's not constant and not all that bad. Put it this way, it's a small price to pay for a memorable experience.
Central Otago is big country, almost continental in scale. Around every corner is a vista straight out of a western. All that's missing is the cowboy silhouetted on the skyline, a man alone in an epic landscape.
Our exceptional tour organiser, former Black Cap Shayne O'Connor at Trail Journeys, ensured that we could look forward to fine meals and comfortable beds at day's end. All that healthy, outdoor activity needs to be balanced with a little self-indulgence.
My only quibble with the whole experience was that if you do it from west to east, the trail ends anti-climactically in Middlemarch. Great name, pity about the place.
We took the train to Dunedin through the breathtaking Taieri Gorge, and spent our last night at the Lone Star caf listening to local band GG & Flanders performing Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here.
It seemed appropriate and not because we'd learned to tell "blue skies from pain". This is a part of our country every New Zealander should experience.
