Another pandemic-dominated year almost done, which save for three weeks of lockdown at the end of winter, had – compared to many parts of the world – mercifully little impact on the small part I inhabit. It did at least serve as a regular reminder to make the most of opportunities, as one never really knows when they may disappear. On a personal note, I seemed to have taken an unexpected, sometimes trying, route to get to where I planned to be in some years time. That is, resigning from a good job, selling my house in Napier and moving south to Otago to be closer to family.
Entering the new year with my arm in a sling, yet again, more surgery on my shoulder seemed a possibility. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to ride the two bikepacking events of the summer. But the shoulder settled and I enjoyed going a bit slower on the excellent Great Southern Brevet as a test of my capability to tackle Tour Te Waipounamu two weeks later. As good as the GSB was, being flown to and from Tekapo by Guy in his Cessna rates as one of the biggest highlights of the year. The light plane travel and views it afforded of the country were endlessly fascinating.
A bit of aerial Tour Te Waipounamu scouting.
The relaxed pace of what was last-ditch effort of TTW preparation made for a very social ride – with much time spent with, both, other riders, and visiting friends and family en route. Most enjoyable and nowhere near as challenging as the 2019 edition, with its traverses of mountain ranges in gale force winds.
The late evening climb to the Garston Ski Hut bordered on majestical.
The following morning wasn’t too shabby either.
Knobby Range was one of the few parts of the course new to me, and with a lovely morning (before the cruel southerly change) to enjoy it – one of my favourite parts.
The two weeks before Tour Te Waipounamu were a blur of GSB recovery, last minute preparation, work, little sleep and much writing. I kept telling myself that being underdone physically in preparing for what I expected to be the toughest bikepacking event I’d attempted was a good idea – although I was sceptical. In its first year, fifty riders were selected to race from the top to bottom of the South Island – with much of the course going through private land in the high country. There would be much pushing and carrying of bikes through the middle section – not exactly my forte.
It went as well as I could have hoped – I saw so much new country and many tremendous sights, the weather was exceedingly kind, the course provided the challenge I expected and I was able to finish a couple of days faster than planned. Sure, I could have gone a bit faster – but would have involved more night-riding, which I’m seldom keen to sacrifice seeing things for. There’s a comprehensive film of the race, which naturally I think is worth the fee.
Photo from hikebikecake.com
After averaging 200 km/day for the first two, the third of moving all day only netted sixty-four. A bit of a shock with all the pushing and carrying, but we made it over the toughest part of the course – the mostly-trackless Dampier Range.
A glorious warm evening pushing solo through the expanses of Mesopotamia Station was the stand-out moment of the race for me. Perhaps helped by having studied this area from the air three weeks before.
Another sixty-odd kilometre day involved much more rocky pushing and carrying to the high point of the course.
Things didn’t let up from there, with two hot and dry days into the heart of Otago.
A beautiful start to the last, and interestingly, easiest day of riding.
Made it! Well pleased with that week and completing the inaugural event.
Starting with a dislocated shoulder, I was thrilled how the first few months played out – it took some time to come off those highs. This was useful as I was already starting to wonder how I was going to make it through another year or so of process safety engineering – having recently realised my house had increased in value so much over five years (bonkers, disturbingly and ultimately bad news for NZ), that I’d be where I wanted to be financially five years earlier than expected. Unusually for me, around this time a relationship suddenly flourished and showed potential. Alas, I was mistaken and it ended as inexplicably as it began, taking a fair bit of dealing with.
Into and through winter was tough as I quickly realised just how unchallenged and disengaged I’d become at work, most unexpected from both my normal working self and a role that had challenged me for over five years. Energy levels were low and I struggled to get motivated to get out and about exploring in my usual way out of work – let alone working well. Maybe it was the lack of sleep – which had started with trying to sleep with an arm in a sling again. Something was wrong, but I no idea what was cause and what was effect. Stumbling over this article, at work unsurprisingly, ticked so many boxes it wasn’t funny – who knew boreout is even a thing? How did I get there?! Most things has always been interesting to me on some level…
About the only thing that was going well through this time, counter-intuitively, was running. Still regularly turning up at the local parkrun (free timed 5 km run around a local park every Saturday morning), I had a staggering run of personal bests. I’d not come remotely close to my PB of just over nineteen minutes in eighteen months. Perhaps with a bit more conditioning from TTW and a small foray into trail running (finally), five PBs over seven parkruns both surprised and pleased me no end. Almost a minute off and down close to eighteen minutes (didn’t quite make it before lockdown… parkrun has still not restarted) was astonishing.
Having on a whim signed up for a very hilly, mid-winter Central Otago trail half-marathon was the motivation to spend a bit more time running in the local hills. One of my few minor regrets from six years in Hawke’s Bay is not having spent more time running and hiking in the Kawekas – much more to explore there when I make it back. It was good to get out there a bit for some training. The race went unexpectedly well, keeping a fair pace for the first eighteen kilometres – but fading in the last five when going downhill was slowed markedly to something of a hobble. Still, forty-five minutes faster than hoped and in some good company. A long weekend with the family and taking the balance bike I’d overhauled and resprayed bright green for my nephew were added bonuses of that trip.
Still not feeling myself, despite some excellent support, I finally went to the doctor with something non-shoulder related – can’t remember the last time, another thing to be grateful for – and a long list of rather vague complaints. Blood test results later and the first steps to an eventual haemochromatosis diagnosis were made (I’ll try not to go on, having mentioned it previously). Having not heard of it – either in my family, or indeed, at all – it was surprising, and also confronting. At least there was some reason many of my vague symptoms, there seems to be no organ damage so far and treatment is straightforward – even if it means getting used to regular insertion of needles larger than I’d prefer. The venesection took a frustratingly long time to get started, considering how simple it is, but once underway my iron levels have dropped nicely to be only just above what is normal – still some way to go to get them to the low side of normal, but some improvement in symptoms is apparent.
Unfortunately I didn’t have the inspiration, energy or motivation to run a Hawke’s Bay Anniversary Tour this year. Pleasingly Andrew managed to organise access through a lot of private farmland to realise his long-held desire to ride from Napier to Wellington following the coast. I was fortunate to ride on two of the trips which showed me a lot of the lower North Island shore that I’d have never seen otherwise.
Work eventually became untenable with the disengagement and iron-overload fatigue, so I resigned, served out a three-month notice period, sold my house (going to market the morning the country suddenly goes into lockdown not recommended) and prepared to move south to spend the summer with family – plenty of big changes for all approaching, so it made sense to be around while also having a bit of a break. The last two months in Hawke’s Bay were spent with various trips to say goodbye to people in the central North Island, plenty of small adventures (I was pleased to finally paddle down the Whanganui River, that quintessential NZ trip) – including some local favourites, selling or packing belongings, ordering a new mountain bike and unfortunately retiring the old one early, one bikepacking event, much blood-letting (actual) and final goodbyes.
Finally skiing in the North Island – first day of not-working.
Some favourite local gravel roads and hills.
Absolute favourite Hawke’s Bay viewpoint with a great crew to share it with.
Down the Whanganui.
The Renegades Muster was a fabulous inaugural bikepacking event in the Whanganui and Taranaki regions.
After two weeks driving south with plenty of visits to extended family and close friends, and small running/biking/hiking outings, I’m pleased to be down south with my family for Christmas and into the New Year. This year certainly has been one of much change for me, unfortunately a bit light on the bike with the bike-commute ending – only 9000 km, but I’ve enjoyed the extra running I’ve done – 500 km my biggest year yet, just. As for next year, who knows? Surely it can’t have as many big changes as this year; but just what it will hold is both exciting and daunting in the opportunities that may present and be taken. Hopefully the energy for more adventures and new sights…
Best wishes to all, thanks to all that have been along for the ride (literal and figurative) and offered support along the way. Well done if you’ve managed to read so much of my writing – thank you.
Heading away from the highway again, this time inland.
A shed – because we’d seen so many on this route, ranging from rustic to tumbledown. I’m sure plenty were slept in…
Whanganui National Park, again, in the background.
We did at least make better progress from the stream than some.
Now, this is fun!
Made it!
A little pleasant climbing to start.
Leaving the river, to cross Okara Stream and begin the climb out.
Now you tell us.
Finally I got to the Bridge to Somewhere! The same as the one to Nowhere, it is slightly more accessible – there is one road to it.
The dirty Kuri joining the “clean” Whangamomona on its way to its Whanganui confluence.
But don’t stray – there was a proliferation of similar signs all the way down the sweet Mangaehu descent.
Looking towards where we’d, in a roundabout way, come from and wondering if there was another afternoon thunderstorm unleashing.
The last of the sunlight, it was a nice evening to peel off an easy forty kilometres – characterised by mostly flat dairy land interspersed with dropping into drainages and grovelling up the other side.
A misty morning to drag the bikes outside.
Long since shut, but there is a pay phone…
Most were more courteous than others.
The steady, bush clad climb up to the first of the day’s three tunnels is most pleasant.
Always nice to find a tunnel near the top of a climb, knowing the last bit of ascent is not required.
It did reward us with our first view of the mountain, Taranaki that is.
Bit slow with this photo.
Clouds haven’t quite covered it yet.
The sign seemed more about the geography than the tarmac.
Apparently the bridge is submerged about ten times each year by the flooding river, I was pleased the river was low and the farm dry.
Back up the river.
Probably getting used to seeing bikepackers by now.
