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The Christmas Letter 2025

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The first half of my year centred around building my garage with Don (brother-in-law’s father). An extremely satisfying and fun project with much problem solving and progress, unsure how I’d have managed it without Don’s help.

Garage building was done around a couple of trips to Napier for some work in the sawmill, experiencing being an extra on a TV series that was being filmed nearby, continuing to volunteer on the local ambulance and finally visiting Stewart Island for a three-generation family holiday.

Fascinating to see behind the scenes, the effort and resource going in seemed somewhat unreal.

Clean shaven for a change, on the off chance you see this mug on the small screen pretending to do some carpentry.

Fortunate to stay in a place owned by friends, surrounded by native trees.

Lots of time around the water, mostly walking, some running and James caught plenty of fish to keep us well fed.

Hiking and camping with my nephews also a highlight.

Besides mountain-biking in the Naseby forest, there wasn’t a lot of New Zealand biking. Some notable rides with friends included local day rides, an overnighter on the Old Woman Range, two trips on the always-fantastic Heaphy Track, and a weekend mountain-biking on the Craigieburn trails.

In June, Mum and I went from Broome to Darwin over two weeks in a campervan. An excellent trip I’ll remember for there being a lot of rocks, trees, birds, spectacular sunsets, crocodiles and heat.

Bit of a shock driving home.

Returning from Australia, there was just enough time to finish lining the garage, move all my belongings from the cottage I’d been renting for three years into the garage and pack for my first bikepacking trip abroad in years – and my longest one. Happily, a long-held desire to visit Japan and it seeming an easy option to get back into some foreign bike touring coincided with bikepacking buddy Rachel’s plan to also tour Japan this year. Visiting Mongolia for a month beforehand wasn’t something I was initially keen on, but I could hardly turn down the chance to go with Rachel and Ian.

We thoroughly enjoyed riding through the big open spaces where one could go and camp almost anywhere. Not without its challenges, we left after a month wanting to return and explore more of the country as the landscapes were beautiful and vast, history interesting, the people very friendly – and the food was better than we’d been led to believe. I’ve not had the energy to document the trip yet, nor do I have many photos of me – thankfully Rachel did a far better job of keeping a record of our travels.

Stopped again by locals driving past in a Toyota Prius, offering local delicacies and support.

(Rachel’s photo.)

Second camel ride for the year.

Japan was also excellent to tour, at the opposite end of many spectrums from Mongolia. Apart from the heat, which took a couple of weeks to ease slightly and get used to, it was far easier going but equally fascinating. We enjoyed the landscapes (particularly visiting many [thirty-four] islands, geothermal areas, mountains, golden rice fields, forests and very clear sea, lakes and rivers). Generally avoiding the cities, the depopulating and decaying rural areas were quite a sight. The food was excellent – my favourites a hot soup curry in Hokkaido and a memorable sashimi meal, but over three months too many excellent ones to remember. Somehow I’ve more snaps, thanks to Rachel and Orlaith, to post here.

Later in the trip, we found many excellent bakeries.

Another day, another convenience store – resupply was seldom an issue.

Occasionally we got off sealed roads and paths – meeting the local spiders and leeches here.

My birthday spent climbing Mt Asahidake, the highest point in Hokkaido, was one of my favourite parts of the trip.

Thankfully the bears we did meet were not as ferocious as these ones.

Again, I’d happily return to see more of Japan – despite having ridden over six thousand circuitous kilometres from north to south, there’s more to see (did I mention the food?). Again, Rachel’s account is far better than the one I may one day get around to.

Back in New Zealand, I enjoyed catching up with friends up north before heading home in time for celebration of a significant birthday of Dad’s – great to see all of his siblings down in Naseby for a busy (and tiring!) long weekend. Unexpectedly, after years of wanting one, an EV that ticked most of many boxes became mine after happening to be going through Christchurch. It’s quite a step up from the venerable Corolla (still going strong) and I’m enjoying the change – and looking forward to it powering my off-grid job site. To end the year, ground was finally broken on my small house project – which will keep me busy for most of next year, and beyond. Quite exciting, but also overwhelming.

Merry Christmas and all the best for the coming year!

Asia, bikepacking, bikes, GPS

Lake Khovsgol out and back from Murun

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After five days of traveling from the south of New Zealand to the north of Mongolia, we were itching to get riding – even if it was a rather damp morning. Somehow my wish to travel a bit further north to Lake Khovsgol (Mongolia’s largest lake, holding almost seventy percent of the country’s freshwater) for a look made it into our plans – I generally stayed out of route planning in Mongolia. Doing a three-day trip north, where we didn’t have to carry all our gear, worked well as a shakedown and reintroduction to bikepacking.

Even the locals were looking bedraggled as we set off into the rain.

Not many photos initially as the light rain got heavier and heavier over the main pass of the day.

Being on a rare sealed road helped with all the water around and the traffic was light and considerate – at times very friendly with a lot of toots, waves and occasional offers of food and lifts. Bit of a shock for the legs riding a loaded bike again, especially as the road would be a gentle gradient for long periods before suddenly climbing steeply to get over a hill – no switchbacks here.

Pleased to find a tearooms for lunch after one such steep climb, especially as the rain had cleared and it was getting hot.

Typical broad valley with a short, sharp, steep climb out.

Ger camps, of varying sizes, would become a common sight for us – families out for the summer with their animals grazing. We saw signs of some of the forests dying too, never found out why.

A little clamber above the stalls at the top of another rise.

Throughout the afternoon the northerly strengthened to make riding rather hard work, before the heavens opened again as we got to Hatgal – the town at the foot of the lake.

We found a small restaurant to shelter from the rain in and started the fun of trying to decipher the menu – this time with some help from a child at the next table. Fed, there was not much appetite left for riding further and camping in the rain – so we found a guesthouse and settled into a ger for the night.

Of course the sun came out; but after we’d showered and warmed up, it did help to dry some things out.

Bigger than my tent. Nice to have after an alarmingly tiring day first up!

A clearer day next dawned, as we sought supplies for a short ride around the lake and camping overnight.

Decaying buildings continued to intrigue me.

As do contrastingly colourful ones.

Leaving town, we soon turned off the previous day’s route to cross Egiin Gol – which drains the lake, the water taking over a thousand kilometres to get to Lake Baikal which is only two hundred kilometres away.

One little rise,

before dropping to the lakeside.

Turning off the gravel road to get closer to the lake, the tracks we were following soon turned to wetland and bogs. Progress slowed as we tried to find the best route through. That meant we had plenty of time to look across the lake to the colourful town and meet our first herd of yaks.

Through some pretty deserted tourist summer camps (Hi De Hi vibes), a fairly flat rise then took us to a deserted area where we could find just enough dry ground to make camp.

Not a bad spot to sleep in a new tent for the first time.

But still many hours left of the day, unloaded we headed north to find a view up the lake (it’s well over a hundred kilometres long) from the Wishing Monument.

Sign didn’t say we couldn’t go through the imposing, closed gates.

Wildflowers!

Can confirm, it’s a big lake. Russia just beyond the end of it.

Up to the Wishing Monument.

It was surprisingly busy, noisy speedboats bringing people from the more developed western side of the lake.

As uncrowded a snap of the monument I could get.

Afternoon storm starting to get a bit closer.

Back to find where we’d stashed the bikes and try to outrun the storm.

Fairly typical surface in these parts.

We returned to camp just as the rain started, hid for a while in our tents before it cleared again for some swimming and cooking. Day after dawned clear and we enjoyed a slight tailwind back towards Murun, first taking the longer and less-boggy route back to the road.

Remembering some passing snaps of the holiday camps.

And friendly yaks.

We didn’t have time to go and see the reindeer people up in the mountains near the Siberian border, but some had brought their animals down – but tied up with nothing to do, it was faintly depressing seeing them so.

We returned to the same teahouse for lunch, and managed more conversation than the previous day. I was pleased to try these pockets filled with minced meat of some description – after being denied at dinner two nights before. The salty milky tea became a favourite too.

A lot of vultures hanging out.

Back through fifty degrees north, hundred degrees east.

Trying to outrun another afternoon storm – successfully this time.

A much easier ride back – net descent helps, along with even quieter roads as most people seem have gotten to the summer Naadam festival – that we managed to keep missing by a day or so everywhere we went.

Back at the guesthouse in Murun, we reclaimed our extra gear and set about spreading out and packing for the touring proper after a successful shakedown.

Asia, bikepacking, bikes, friends, travel

From the road – down the northeast coast of Hokkaido

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A bit of a blur of a week down the northeast coast of Hokkaido, from which I’m having to use photos and Strava posts to remind me of – not the best sign.

Off the ferry, we weren’t in Wakkanai for long – a helpful wind pushing us around the bay in the late afternoon heat. We diverted up a steep sweaty climb on the Path of White Shells – road surface is coarsely crushed scallop shells, long bleached by the sun. More sika deer, but the highlight was the dusk views of Rishiri, Rebun and finally we could see Russia forty-odd kilometres away.

The northern tip of Japan, Cape Soya, was reached soon after. The tourist traps all closed for the night, the small numbers at the monument were quite bearable. We pottered for a bit before trying to find somewhere to camp. We found a great spot next to yet another artificial harbour – picnic shelter, power outlets, toilets and grass. The only disadvantage was the fishing boats going and coming from two in the morning – diesel thrums disturbing any remaining sleep for me.

A few days of about a hundred kilometres with few hills along a more prosperous looking coastline (compared to the northwest, fewer abandoned buildings, bit more going on, plenty of scallop processing plants and big dairy farms) commenced. Thankfully, while still hot, we didn’t have high humidity to deal with. I got a bit tired of seeing so much concrete in the sea – coastal protections, artificial harbours; unlike the northwest coast we did see, and stop at, some beaches which were pleasant.

The highlight for me was a friendly Japanese couple, Yumi and Ken, that we met at one of the free campsites. They are from Yokohama area and were traveling in their van for a week or so – Ken having been to Hokkaido forty-odd times. They seemed keen to meet foreigners and spoke English far better than we speak Japanese. They invited us to dinner and Ken cooked up a storm, we’d previously resupplied to cook for ourselves so there was plenty of food and Sapporo beer over a fun discussion. It was good being able to ask some of the questions of Japanese life and language we’d been accumulating.

There must have once been a train line running up the coast as we kept seeing signs – disconnected bits of rail trail, old rail corridors and later old steam locomotives on display. There were even a couple of places where you could stay cheaply in an old carriage that had had seats removed and hard sleeping platforms installed – unfortunately we didn’t find them at the end of any days. My curiosity of what the line was used for, when it closed and its general history was never satisfied – there were no helpful information boards.

One big section was rideable – twenty three asphalted kilometres into Abashiri (which is still serviced by Japan Rail, so no more rail trail for a while), it looked like it had been converted to trail decades ago and generally neglected. Nice to be off the road though. Previously we’d ridden a similarly old section of sealed rail trail, after bashing through a bit of gravel road overgrown with bamboo, which was deserted and delightful – until we got to a bridge that was closed and barricaded. A bit of backtracking was needed through the nice forest, thankfully we didn’t come across the bear that had left some droppings on the path some time earlier.

The Abashiri Prison Museum was an interesting historical glimpse into Hokkaido. I hadn’t realised that the island hadn’t really been set up for settling until late in the nineteenth century – and then mostly to ward off the “menace” of expanding Russia. Prisoners did a lot of road, and other, building quickly in demanding conditions. Having spent a decent period there, we didn’t have time to get out of the city so went to the nearby auto-camp, Tent-o-rando, to find the campsites were “full” – so we opted for a small chalet for the night. The ride off the hill the next day was great – first a very impressive playground to explore, then a fun route of gravel back roads through forest and farms before a long stretch of rollers through cropping land.

Lunch in Shiri near the railway station showed a town that didn’t look so neglected, which was a nice change. The heat ramped up again that afternoon as we headed back to the coast on the nastiest section of highway we’ve encountered – no shoulder and the edge of the lane was in very poor condition. Thankfully drivers remain courteous. Stopping at vending machines for a cold drink, we found a delightfully retro coffee shop run by two senior women. Photos of the pack of ice, that comes down from a Russian river, to block in the harbour in winter were shown. The closest we got were the ice cold towels provided to cool us. I was interested in a cabinet of classic Japanese cameras, but bemused by the Colt 45 and 9 mm pistols sitting on the bottom shelf.

A couple of waterfalls to see and tunnels to negotiate and we were in Utoro, our gateway to Shiretoko National Park before the forecast rain arrived. While I posted another kilogram of unneeded gear home, Rachel and Orlaith were checking into the campground and being told of trail closures due to a hiker having been dragged into the forest by a bear – eek.

Photo dump still here.

Asia, bikepacking, bikes, hiking, national park, travel

From the road – Rishiri and Rebun Islands

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Easily the highlight of Japan so far – still close to the coast but we found some hills.

The expected rain certainly arrived the morning we got on the ferry in Wakkanai bound for Rishiri. An uneventful voyage over on a pretty empty, larger than expected, boat. We rode an hour or so to the north of the island and the main town, imaginatively Rishiri Town, on a mixture of the main ring road (quiet) and a cycle path (even quieter).

The first campground we checked was deserted and had no views, being inland a bit and surrounded by trees. We decided to check another down on the point near the harbour, lighthouse and onsen. Much better with views, close to town facilities and a few others were camping. Had good tea and coffee in a delightfully retro coffee house before coming back to the campground. Nice sunset, but Mt Rishiri that dominates the island remained capped in cloud.

Up early on Saturday, not to decamp as normal, but to ride 16 km to the trailhead of the Mt Rishiri track. We’d climbed a couple of hundred metres on the bikes, so that meant we were already drenched in sweat early in the morning and there was only 1500 m left to climb on foot. It started off through nice forest, mostly spruce I think. As that thinned, the track steepened and started to get busier. Close as the atmosphere was, there was the odd rain shower too – enough to put jackets on, to really make sure we stayed drenched in sweat.

Occasionally there were glimpses through the foliage and clouds of the summit and ridges above us, and back down to the coast. But mostly we walked in cloud admiring the immediate scenery of foliage, rocky track that must take quite some maintenance and some impressive butterflies. The trail got really busy with people both ascending and descending as we neared the top. The rain resumed just before the summit, so we waited around a bit before heading up to admire the clouds and take a few photos.

As expected, descending 1500 m in six kilometres was hard on the legs – three days later and I still can’t go down stairs without restriction! Even a hot pool that night, after a fun dinner at a local bar watching our tempura being made in front of us, doesn’t seem to have helped much. Having enjoyed island life so much, which is an odd thing to say as Hokkaido is itself an island, we started to contemplate taking an extra day away from the mainland and seeing what is on Rebun Island to the north.

Sunday brought a leisurely forty kilometre ride around Rishiri. Initially it looked like this would have been the day to climb the mountain, as we could finally see the summit – but it soon clouded over for the day. The highlight of riding around the island was stopping to watch and question a local group (probably a family) in a small garage processing hundreds of sea urchins, from that morning’s catch. We got to sample some too, raw they were salty with a hint of sweetness – yum, provided the texture didn’t put one off!

The best part of the riding was saved for the last five kilometres into Rishirifuji (the main ferry terminal on the island is here). We climbed into the forest above the coast on what felt like an old narrow gauge railway – but I can’t imagine why there was ever such a thing on the island with an easy coastal road. The views of the mountain and out over the coast to the sea were excellent, and the bridges across deep gorges equally so. We made it in plenty of time to get an earlier ferry than we’d planned.

A much shorter voyage this time, and not so popular – there were almost as many bikes and motorcycles on board as cars.  Off the ferry, we bought groceries for overnight before setting off north for a campground. A small island, this didn’t take long. Having made camp, there was plenty of time before sunset for a wee bimble.

A little bit of a climb after a short ride to Cape Sukoton, a small island just off there and generally interesting rocks. On the return we took some back roads to view different bays and coves. Unfortunately I missed the best cove when I sailed down a hill while the others were investigating something off to the side. Oh well, I could get dinner started.

Just as we were leaving Monday morning, we heard some kiwi accents. Turns out it was Rob and Haidee – the people behind the Hokkaido Wilds website that we have been using for route ideas. Great to chat and learn a bit more of the island and their adventures living in Japan – they’d just come off the water, having been kayaking since two in the morning as part of their circumnavigation of Rebun.

We’d seen some walking routes advertised around the island, so thought we’d give the forest one down the centre of the island a go on our leisurely way back to the ferry. It turned out to be the riding highlight of the first two weeks, and counting, in Hokkaido. A steeply climbing barely used double track, it was thankfully shaded by forest for the main part of the ascent. Still, it was hot and humid. As we approached the ridge, the forest gave way to tall bamboo and views to the coast, and Rishiri, were there. The bamboo covering of the hills still reminds me of tea growing in East Africa – beautiful.

Stopping often for views, sadly the biggest section of off pavement of the trip so far (less than ten kilometres :/ ) was over (more, please!). We dropped to a new 1500 m tunnel through to a small settlement (seems excessive use of such a tunnel) on the west coast. Pleasingly it was very cool underground. We pottered around the small section of coast looking at some impressive and photogenic rocks, and dipped in the warm sea.

Back through the tunnel, we still had plenty of time to ride the extent of the roads south. I was pleased to finally see some colourful houses! Not on the scale of Mongolian brilliance, but after ten days in Hokkaido it was exciting. A long lunch back near the ferry terminal and we were on our way back to Wakkanai. Goodbye to two great little islands – easily the highlight of the first two weeks in Hokkaido.

Photo dump here.