The framework of the Six Corners Challenge is different to any other bikepacking event I’ve ever done and is what finally drew me to the north west and upper west of the South Island on my bike. Instead of following a set route as quickly as one could, riders were to visit the so-called Six Corners of Golden Bay in any order they chose over the thirty-six hours of the weekend – as quickly as they could. The west is very flat, while the east is very hilly. I planned to ride the hills on the Saturday and explore the west on Sunday.
Weather was in the headlines beforehand with the claim of a soon approaching storm with the biggest measured pressure differential between the north and the south of our small country. Clearly that meant wind, and a lot of it – I revised my ideas and decided to head to the exposed western part of the course first.
Arriving at quarter to six, I was starting to get concerned I’d not correctly found the village square.
Gradually other riders congregated, all new faces to me, some with familiar names. I lost count at about twenty, I think there were twenty-five – the largest turn-out yet, despite the deteriorating forecast. After a quick briefing we were off, the field splitting east and west.
A lot of seal first, the riding was easy as the sun rose. With little traffic it was pleasant enough to chat away as people came and went. A few were from Wellington, but most the upper South Island – I think I’d travelled the furthest. Having ditched half of my touring kit, I quickly found I was both over-biked for the easy terrain and carrying a little too much. Oh well, the weather was likely to turn and I still had two weeks of touring on this bike when it would not be enough of a mountain bike; a good compromise though, I thought – even if a gravel bike looked ideal for the Six Corners course.
Past Collingwood, I was tiring of the flat seal – why weren’t we going up that bulldozer track?
Certainly wasn’t any wind about yet!
I lagged behind a little, heading to Cape Farewell seemed logical to me – something about getting the top of the South Island for my first corner.
Huzzah, some gravel and a little climbing.
As I neared the end of the road, there weren’t many people coming back – most had chosen instead to turn west and head down the coast first.
Surprisingly still here, I enjoyed the ride back chatting to a local about his experiences televising big international cricket matches.
Turning west I lost my riding buddy as he went to Brown Hut; over a small hill the road turned to gravel and skirted around the surprisingly large Whanganui Inlet on a series of seventeen causeways. The clouds were scurrying through and rain threatened for some time.
Stopping here was a cue for the heavens to open for ten minutes.
By the time I got up here, the rain gear had to go.
The Tasman Sea is just behind those hills, as my route continued left.
Bridging from the inlet to the coast past farmland (I guess the only reason the road is there?), riders returning from the Anatori River corner began to appear. The ten kilometre section to the river paralleling the coast had more than enough little pinch climbs to keep the legs honest.
That’s Corner Two, just out of shot a rather makeshift campground filled with hunting, fishing and whitebaiting types.
Retracing my tyre tracks was not as unpleasant as it might have been – it gave an opportunity to see somewhere I’d, until very recently, never been from a different angle.
A most excellent late-lunch and large pot of tea at the Old School set me up to ride south to Brown Hut, at the northern end of the Heaphy Track. It was still incredibly windless and the riding was still easy going – I was enjoying looking around, even if by then I’d lost all company.
This place wasn’t open late on a Saturday afternoon, more’s the pity.
Hitting the gravel for the last stretch to the hut, a short flurry of riders appeared – I was only ninety-odd minutes behind. What had I been doing all day? Slow because I’m looking around too much or looking around so much because I’m slow? Whatever, it had been a good day out and I was pleased to take the required photo at another corner.
The last day of standard time for the year, the sky simultaneously darkened with the sun setting (not that I could see it) and the clouds thickening. With forty easy kilometres to go back to Takaka, the rain started. Before long I was in all my rain gear and the heavens opened. Fortunately it was not cold or too windy, as it was a downpour all the way back. Any downhills had to be taken carefully lest the rain strip some skin off my face; the few vehicles there were gave me a wide berth, either out of pity or trying to avoid the crazy person on a bike.
Back in town to find all the kitchens shut, I was a walking puddle attempting to find some food. A large bowl of shoestring fries failed to appease my hunger, but the cup of tea was most welcome. With the storm having now arrived, I wasn’t going to see much so returned to my cabin, opted for a warm shower and snuggled into bed. It had been a while since I’d ridden so far, I was pleased to have seen many new places, that the weather was mostly good and I still had legs to keep riding. A long, flat and mostly sealed ride not exactly my forte or favourite, but hey ho – plenty more to come on this trip. The other corners could wait, it helped that I’d already seen one of them on my ride over Takaka Hill the previous day.
After a few spits of rain, the day cleared nicely.
Almost at the top of the road, a short side trip for the view.
Yup, the hills certainly climb away from the coast very quickly.
Getting a bit higher, looking north.
Andrew heading for the airstrip; obviously a windy place, the breeze was light.
The climbing continued a while longer.
Mangaorapa valley – we’d drop down and ride right to left, before following the Porangahau River through towards that glimpse of ocean.
Dropping off the ridge, the gravel stretches and stretches.
It was probably warmer among the mob of sheep waiting to lose their fleeces. Until they lost their fleeces.
Poverty Bay with Gisborne on the left, and Young Nicks Head in the centre.
As the sun sunk, I was pleased to find myself riding with this guy again.
Off the ridge line, the mud lessened markedly and riding down the track quickened.
Close to the coast now, looking north of Gisborne.
Dropping down to Mahanga as the sun sets on Mahia Peninsula – I was pretty sure I’d make it across the isthmus just before dark.
