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Scouting Sunday – Central Hawke’s Bay

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Needing to ensure that the short section of beach riding required for my planned route was actually rideable was the basis of the weekend’s scouting plans. A few different options presented to kick-off the Hawke’s Bay Anniversary Tour and get to the beach. In the end, I decided to stick to keeping things in Hawke’s Bay and planned to check out the first hundred kilometres – none of which I’d ridden before, and only slightly more I’d seen from a car. It looked good on maps! Initially, the forecast looked good for more mid-winter camping – but westerly gales put the kibosh on that idea. Putting a tentative call out, I found others willing to join me on my debatably-mad scheme (all a matter of perspective, seemed perfectly reasonable to me).

Meeting in Waipawa at sunrise, the first objective was to find a suitable start point for the event.

This bandstand will certainly do.

With Josh (returning from a very rare few weeks of, injury-induced, inactivity) and Marek (returning from a month visiting back home in Poland, and little riding, and never having ridden close to the proposed distance) assembling – why wouldn’t we have a grand day of riding bikes?

It promptly started to rain, and the westerly continued to whip around us. Rain gear hastily donned and we were off through the few deserted streets, crossing the Tukituki bridge and finding the cycle trail to take us off the highway. It was a bleak soaking inauspicious start, but there wasn’t that much rain in the forecast so we grinned and bore it through Waipukurau.

Leaving the main road again, we cut south through flat farm land. The rain slowly eased as the gradient equally slowly eased us up. For early August, there certainly were a lot of young lambs bleating as the rain fell. We quickly got the idea that cyclists are few and far between up Hatuma way as we were quite the novelty for resident cattle – a curiosity-fuelled stampede was narrowly avoided. As the rain ceased, we got the first sign of a shadow around nine as we finally hit a climb to warm us. Gravel was reached for a fun drop down in to Flemington – which seems to consist of a country school, a playcentre and little else.

Another rainbow? That’s just getting greedy as the rain left us for the day.

Briefly back on seal, a long straight was only interrupted by stopping to close a broken gate, and snack. It must be said that the mob of cattle behind the wide open gate were very well behaved and not all over the road. Surprised to see a polo field/paddock near Purimu Lake (we missed the golf course), the anticipation of heading up Ugly Hill Rd was palpable. I never did work out what was so Ugly about it, the climb and views were anything but. Some pleasant undulating ridge-riding deposited us in Wallingford and a few kilometres of Route 52 led us to the gravel of the similarly imaginatively named Old Hill Road.

A more direct, on the map, route to Porangahau said hill was clearly the reason this was not the main road and remained unsealed. We climbed and climbed, all the while getting close to Porangahau – which I knew was down at sea level. Surely we must stop climbing soon…

Time for another snack stop, looking north and attracting the inquisitive farm animals again.

The coast appeared, finally, after many hopeful glances east.

All the while the westerly continued to batter us from the side. Up on the ridge, there was nowhere to hide – large shelter belts were ineffectual. The descent was a screamer – dropping 250 metres in two kilometres. If that wasn’t exhilarating enough, rounding one right-hander we were broadsided by the full force of the wind. Exciting times, especially with a frame bag, come sail. I rolled into town thrilled with the morning’s route and the roads we’d found. The start of the route was promising, even if there was a very easy thirty kilometre warm-up.

The small village exceeded all expectations. The store had delicious homemade pies (I restrained myself at one) and there was a delightful coffee cart in the garden next door – I’m told the coffee was of a high standard, the muffins I can vouch for. Seventy kilometres into the day, refuelled and slightly rested we chewed off easy flat kilometres with the wind pushing us along parallel to the coast. That’s the good thing about loops, provided the wind stays constant – it all balances out, eventually.

Come noon, Blackhead Rd was joined. Marek shunned the easier option of sealed and relatively flat roads back to Waipukurau – keen to see the beach and the objective of the day, no doubt. I was secretly pleased as if he got that far, he may as well complete the ride with us as the alternative would have been neither here nor there in terms of easier length and hilliness. We were back on quiet gravel again. That is, “quiet” being zero traffic, compared to very little. Sidling coastal plains, the farms were windswept and just looked exposed and hard work.

Pleasant riding in the sun with the wind behind us.

Over a little rise, we spied Blackhead Point. The beach is further up the coast and we contemplated the path the road would take to get through or over the hills.

The shingle mostly took us between the hills, but we did eventually climb to about a hundred metres and joined another road back to town. We were but two kilometres from the beach. Josh and I were just persuasive enough to convince Marek to stick with us, see the beach, click over his first 100 km ride with us and we’d get him home somehow – the big climb and headwind may have been glossed over.

Having ridden in on so much gravel, Blackhead Beach certainly felt remote and I wasn’t expecting more than the handful of holiday houses and campground that we found. Having serendipitously timed our arrival half an hour before low tide, the beach provided perfect riding conditions. With that tail wind, the hard-packed sand was far faster than we expected/feared. We flew up the beach.

Grin inducing, in fact.

Marek, and we, celebrated his first ever 100 km ride. A top effort.

Much fun was had.

Reaching Pourerere, ten easy kilometres of beach riding was over and we paused for refuelling and to redistribute loads. I helpfully consumed a huge sandwich. Threats of being deposited in a ditch if it was more than the promised thirty-odd kilometres back to Waipawa hung over my head as we departed. A steady pace over half an hour swallowed up the three hundred metres of climbing away from the coast and gave us plenty of hills, coast and ocean to look at. Another hour of tending down, battling the wind and the odd climb took us over the Tukituki again (downstream of the morning’s crossing) and changing our heading for the final stretch home.

As the long day started to tell over the final few kilometres, the wind eased and a large rain cloud loomed ahead of us – would we make back dry? As I’ve already spoiled that, yes – we did. All pleased to see the cars again, and hopefully I can speak for all in saying that it was a great and satisfying day. Most excellent to have good company join me in trying winter conditions, and successfully put a little more of my route-puzzle together.

around home, bikepacking, bikes, GPS, NZ

Scouting Sunday – West of Wairoa

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Since realising on last week’s overnighter that a worthwhile bikepacking route from the south to north of Hawke’s Bay is more feasible than previously thought (as I’ve finally found ways of mostly avoiding the notorious highway between Napier and Wairoa), the idea has become somewhat consuming. I also realised that over the last four years I have built up a little local bikepacking knowledge that may be useful, and maybe there are others that would like to come along on such trips. Suddenly, this little site has a simple new Hawke’s Bay Bikepacking page and there’s a corresponding group. Not entirely sure how that happened, but it’s good fun and hopefully useful.

There’s still a bit of scouting to be done to ensure that the route I’ve mapped out does indeed go. With a fine mid-winter Sunday forecast, I headed north to Wairoa to see just what the roads and terrain are like west of the town. An early start, the twisty, slow dawn drive reinforced that I must try to route off the highway as much as possible. Parking in Wairoa early, the famed Osler’s Bakery was about the only place open – which was handy as that was exactly where I needed to go to stock up on pies for the day. A brisk morning, it was still and quiet. Unfortunately I had thirty kilometres to back-track on the highway; pleasingly, the first little gravel shortcut went through and there was next to no traffic as I tackled a couple of steep climbs.

It’s odd being on the other side of the large bay from where one lives and seeing things from a different perspective.

Looking, over Mohaka Township, to the south of Hawke Bay and Cape Kidnappers on the left, Napier is in the background on the right.

Not quite at the Mohaka River, I turned off the highway and immediately hit a steep climb – so steep the gravel road had been sealed especially. Slowly I made my way higher, distracted by the view opening up to the left.

Back to the Mohaka and its eponymous viaduct. Riding through this area one begins to see why it took thirty years to complete less than 200 kilometres of railway.

I reached the ridge and the gravel returned – in good condition it was too.

My research indicated that there was an unformed legal road that would take a more interesting route than the sealed alternative lower down the valley. I was surprised to find an illegally locked company gate preventing access, but carried on. Pleasantly the road was top-notch gravel along the ridge – with plenty of little climbs and descents to keep one honest. The pines in there are still quite young, so the views around were good.

Flat-deck Transit, anyone?

An hour off the highway, out of the forest and back on a formed road, I passed through rugged pasture before joining Putere Rd to head northwest – I just had to see if a bridge over the Waiau River was in fact there. If it was, many more route possibilities, including through to Lake Waikaremoana, would open up. Climbing resumed in earnest as the views opened up southwest to Maungaharuru Range. There were enough glimpses through the pines to keep things interesting. Passing Cricklewood Road, which was the real objective of the scouting mission, at around 500 m it was a fast descent (a mix of seal and gravel) towards Lake Rotonuiaha.

The bridge is there – huzzah! Unsure why I doubted it wouldn’t be, a sketchy aerial photo perhaps. I tried to keep my mind on the task at hand and not scheme up wilder and longer routes. They’ll keep, I can’t wait to get back up there and explore more. Lunching at the end of the bridge, a local in a pick-up stopped for a chat (I suspect cyclists are a rarity in those parts) and offered local knowledge of what would be good loops.

Fuelled by another pie, it was time for the grovel all the way back up. It goes some way to show how quiet it was out there, that I was surprised by, not one, but two cars passing me on the climb. I didn’t see any other cars off the highway all day.

Another section sufficiently steep that it had been sealed.

My original plan for the day didn’t include parking in Wairoa and the extra distance that entailed – instead I was to do over two hundred kilometres in the hills, including seeing what is at the end of Putere Road. It turns out, I spent more time taking photos and considering optimal route options than simply riding. So I abandoned that plan, but couldn’t resist seeing if Putere School, marked on maps, was still open. Although the end of the school holidays, it certainly is still a school and only a few kilometres down the road.

Not a bad outlook for one’s primary education.

That distraction over, the rest of the climb awaited; now with the gentle breeze behind me.

Heading back into the pines, I was again thinking of making the route longer if Cricklewood Road was pine-clad with no views. It started out so, but soon opened up with stunning views all around. Although super bright from the mid-afternoon sun, slowing down was necessary to avoid riding off the edge of the ridge distracted as I was by the landscape.

Regular sharp climbs and descents appeared as the ridge was followed. Rounding a corner, horses! Dogs! And easily, a thousand or so sheep heading down the road. Just a typical Sunday afternoon country traffic jam. Avoiding spooking the horse, the riders (shepherds in the strictest sense, I guess) allowed me through to try and make my way ahead of the flock. It took me twenty minutes to slowly make my way through four kilometres of sheep-filled road. A sign of how mild and seasonally-confused this winter has been, the lambs I saw didn’t exactly look new born – and it’s only July.

Soaking in the warm sun, the descents gradually outweighed the climbs and altitude was slowly lost before one final long downhill to the highway.

Mahia Peninsula looking closer than normal – I’ve still not made it there, but hope to finish the route there. Prime Rocket Lab launch viewing spot up here too.

A fantastic day’s riding, I was thrilled by what I saw and found – especially looking forward to introducing the riding to others. Curtailing my optimistic plan for the day was in part done so I could drive a few other roads on the way home and see if they would be worth including. They certainly are, a completely different gravel road: a skinny, twisty, hilly, loose shingle road was another delight before I hit the highway and headed home.

around home, bikepacking, bikes, GPS, NZ

Waikare River S24O

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Carl and I never quite found the time over summer to do an overnighter after work one Friday to the Waikare River campground. Finding some mid-“winter” inspiration from somewhere, I decided I wasn’t going to wait until next summer to see what was there.

It’s a long time since I have ridden my bikepacking bike to work; while it felt slow compared to my commuter, to my surprise – it wasn’t really. Maybe the Niner rolls better than I imagine.

An unusual sight in the bike shed that garnered a few comments.

Starting work early Friday, meant I left early and was well on the way up familiar Waipunga Road gravel (which has really suffered under logging traffic) to meet the store-closing deadline at Tutira. In the late afternoon, the road was devoid of vehicles – I only saw farmer Roy passing on his motorbike. Making it in time to empty the cabinet of remaining hot food, dinner at Tutira was filling – it was even warm enough outside to make a large kiwifruit ice cream viable.

Dark now having descended, I set off on my roundabout route north – avoiding the highway and instead adding an hour’s worth of hills. Always exciting to be riding new roads, even if I couldn’t see much. The clouds were moving rapidly, constantly threatening to bring the forecast rain without ever delivering. A warm winter night, I was very comfortable in shorts and a short-sleeved shirt. Even thought I knew it was there, a 400 m high hill seemed out of place – but it was good fun rolling off it back to a short stretch on the highway (an hour after Tutira). At Putorino I was briefly close to the Waikare before leaving the highway and heading to the coast.

A little climbing was still to be done, before a wild gravel descent to the river. The surface deteriorated and certainly kept one on one’s toes flying down in the dark. Before I knew it I was at the deserted campground. I found the river in the dark and not much else: some toilets, a sink and some taps were the extent of the facilities. A beady-eyed possum watched me set up my bivy bag as the rain finally arrived in the shape of slight drizzle. I settled in for a warm night’s rest, the rain abated and I reflected on a great little ride through the dark after work.

Possibilities of exploring a whole lot of roads between there and Wairoa rolled around my head with the new found knowledge at how accessible this area is. I’d previously ignored it due to the nasty highway, but I now knew that this was mostly avoidable. The schemes continue to grow.

Saturday morning and I could finally see, and wander down to, the river.

I retraced my route back to the store for second breakfast, enjoying being able to see the countryside I was riding through. After keep a herd of cattle intrigued while stopping for the following photos, shortly after I was helping an ineffectual cattle dog (poor thing kept getting charged) round up a small mob of cows and calves. All in a morning’s ride?

Huzzah, the pie-warmer was full of Maketu Pies and as it was so warm I definitely deserved four scoops of ice cream… The strong westerly that hampered my early progress was at my back as I was blown up Darkys Spur, sweltering (relatively) in the mid-morning sun as I was back to short sleeves all round. I took the Kaiwaka, Tangoio Settlement Roads option back to work to round out a fun little exploratory overnighter.

Unable to say no to Anton’s invite to go MTBing, the most fun of the trip was had muscling my loaded, fully-rigid bike up the climbs and around the obstacles of the Mill Block mountain-bike park – whooping in delight at the extra momentum and challenge. A great twenty-four hours, now to get back to scheming how to build on this route.

around home, bikepacking, bikes, GPS, NZ

Easter Escapade

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Long-harboured curiosity and ambitions to ride the notoriously hilly and difficult Gentle Annie road from Napier to Taihape were finally realised over Easter. A fantastic patch of weather forecast amongst unseasonable grey and cool days were more than enough motivation for me to take off for the four days on my bike. I may be one of the few people that is disappointed that the sealing of the Gentle Annie was completed some years back, I’d have much preferred long stretches of gravel and even fewer cars. Alas, I had a very smooth day confident that I’d make it to Taihape before dark.

Managing to get organised, I left before dawn and was quickly out through fields of grapes and apples. The few diary farms passed by as the country slowly got hillier. Very slowly mind you, it wasn’t until after sixty kilometres that the climbing proper started.

In the meantime I occasionally looked back over Hawke’s Bay while making my way through the copious amount of food I’d packed for a day with no services.

The first big climb took me about an hour, but it wasn’t too steep as holiday traffic increased from non-existent to very little. Mostly it was alongside company pine forest, never the most interesting view – but good to see where it was and also pass some places I’d heard mention of. It was warming up and layers were shed as far as my short-sleeved shirt. The whole weekend was a very pleasant temperature – warm while climbing, but the descents were definitely and delightfully cooling.

Looking over to the northern reaches of the Ruahine Ranges.

I made sure to stop regularly to admire the view and eat my way through all the extra weight I was carrying. The four wraps I’d made that morning were spot-on.

Te Manihi (1099 m) – just before dropping down to the popular Kuripapango campground and crossing the headwaters of one of the big Hawke’s Bay rivers, the Ngaruroro.

Having crossed the river, the eponymous climb began and it was a good one. Only twenty minutes and ten percent, it was still slow going. It must have looked hot work as a guy in a car not much bigger than my bike stopped and gave me a nice cool bottle of Powerade. Much appreciated.

It doesn’t look too steep, but this convoy of caravans stopped as they were cooking their brakes.

The Gentle Annie hill done, it was very pleasant to spend ten kilometres up on the tops of those hills – at just under 1000 m above sea level, the views in all directions were grand.

Kaikomata Range.

The views of Ruapehu were excellent, I was surprised by how much snow was up there already.

The road quickly dropped down to the mighty Rangitikei River. And reared steeply out of the valley, probably the toughest climb all day – it was a bit of a grovel.

By this stage I was pretty sure I’d arrive well before dark, so I was in even less of a rush. Now mid-afternoon, the little traffic there was really dropped off. It was a very peaceful ride through small settlements. I started to develop a severe case of sideroad-itis, wondering what was up and how long are the numerous sideroads. For now I have to content myself with looking at maps, but as with most places I ride – there are always plenty of reasons to go back and explore further.

One final climb done, it was a gentle cruise down to Taihape as dusk approached and the air cooled. I was pleased to find a store open so I could stock up for another unserviced day of riding. The Rusty Nail Backpackers was a great find and home for the night – copious amounts of hot-cross buns, a roaring fire and fellow guests that cooked too much and very generously fed me dinner. A ripping day out in the sun and hills, it was well worth the wait.

With only a short Saturday on the cards, I had the luxury of leaving just after daybreak. This did mean that traffic on the short stretch of State Highway One was still mercifully quiet. Fittingly for a day in which, even more so than the previous one, I felt I was constantly plummeting into gorges and groveling out, I turned into Gorge Road and headed towards the Ruahines.

A nice little climb to warm up deposited me into this colourful scene.

I soon dropped sharply to cross the Rangitikei again, riding over a deep and narrow gorge.

Out of that valley I soon found a sublime patch of gravel winding its way through farms littered with golden trees and dropping into the next valley, the Kawhatau.

Climbing out of that one, I had intended to turn right towards Mangaweka but I spied a sign to Rangiwahia. I’d not previously considered that option as it is off the cycle route I was loosely following. When a friendly local stopped to see if I was OK and then advised me the alternative was mostly gravel, that clinched it; I turned left.

Ruapehu popped up again.

The promised section of gravel twisted and turned, taking me to the highest point of my day and then pointing me towards Rangiwahia. Here I rejoined the route of my favourite day on my Tour Aotearoa – who knew northern Manawatu was so absolutely lovely? Dropping into and climbing out of more gorges, I turned south on Main South Road – which would be one of the more tedious road names on the trip. But that’s OK, as I soon passed Conspicuous Road – which took the title of best road name.

For some reason the TA course went down the west side of the Pohangina River; I turned onto a new road, Pohangina Valley East Road (fairly self-explanatory), and enjoyed the solitude and autumn sunshine. Requisite riverside climbs and descents passed by easily before crossing the river for the pleasant downhill into Ashhurst. The short section of highway towards Palmerston North was loud and tedious, but thankfully it had a wide shoulder. Before long I was heading along familiar roads from my uni days to the home of dear friends. A very pleasant and much easier day that one, it was great to see familiar faces.

Easter Sunday brought a leisurely seven o’clock and very little traffic as I carried on along the Tour Aotearoa route. It was slated to rain for much of the day, I was thankful for every minute longer I stayed dry under threatening skies. With a nice section of gravel, I was in Pahiatua sooner than expected; but meeting expectations, everything was shut for the public holiday. That didn’t prevent some concerted snacking while I pondered my route choice. Not having ridden either option, I chose the hillier, more direct route to Pongaroa.

Following the Makuri River up its valley, the climbing was gentle with plenty of sheep farms and magpies providing the visual interest.

Watching and listening to dogs mustering sheep was about the most activity I saw all morning.

Native forest! Maybe I’d climbed just a little.

Rounding a corner I was taken by the sight of the Makuri Gorge stretching in front of me – it sure is fun taking roads with no knowledge or expectation as to what one may find. The road narrowed and steepened as the gorge tightened, before opening up at the small village of Makuri (a small school, a church and a smattering of houses). It looks a nice spot to come back to explore some of the gravel roads I’ve since realised are nearby.

The road reared up as much as it had all day and, after a couple of switchbacks, took the direct route up and over the Puketoi Range. Dropping off the ridge the descent was fast towards Pongaroa. I was impressed to look back and see a long bush-clad escarpment stretching away along the range, I’m not used to seeing too many such sights in NZ. I wondered if anything would be open in Pongaroa, I thought probably not.

An Event sign, hmmm, what could be going on?

To my surprise Pongaroa was heaving, the main street covered in people, cones and pick-ups. Turns out, I’d managed to unwittingly arrive on the one busy day of the year in the small settlement. It was the final day of a three-day hunt, and time for the weigh-in. Consequently a wide variety of dead animals, mostly deer and pigs, were spread on pick-up trays and hanging from hooks. Amongst all the gumboots, bush singlets and beer-swilling I cut a strange sight wheeling a loaded MTB in – I’m just glad I gave up wearing lycra well over a decade ago, no need to advertise my leanness in such company.

The pub was, of course, open – so I didn’t have to delve into my luggage to find lunch. Trying to keep out of the sun in the beer garden (the rain still hadn’t turned up), it was a pleasant rest taking it all in. I wasn’t expecting to see someone from work on my little Easter ride, but there you go.

I rolled out of town while things were still getting going, the traffic picking up now – every second vehicle seemingly another truck with antlers or trotters pointing in some direction. Two cheery cycle tourist also rode past, sans large animal carcass – they were the only other bike tourers I saw all weekend, disappointingly. The twenty-odd kilometres to the Weber junction were cruisy and very pleasant, which was welcome as I knew (from a stay in Wimbledon twenty months ago) the next section was hilly.

Quickly I was in my easy gears and an audiobook was playing for the spin up the hill. I was interested to see how much further logging operations had progressed since my last visit. Bombing down into Wimbledon, familiar sights blew past – this pub was certainly closed, I suspect all its patrons were in Pongaroa. As the shadows lengthened I crossed back into Hawke’s Bay, I was basically home – apart from 150 km of riding, that is.

One just has to stop for a sign this long.

The few remaining climbs didn’t get me 200 m above sea level, so the last sixty kilometres into Waipukurau were steady going as I set my lights going against the descending darkness. It still had not rained all day, nor had any wind appeared – it was a little surreal riding through the night so late in autumn with bare arms and legs, any extra layers were not required.

Over dinner in town I debated the last 80 – 100 km (route dependent) home. If I had have brought more light, being home by midnight was not out of the question. I’d had a rather leisurely paced 200 km day and still felt good. Alas, I was not certain I could eek that much illumination out of the lights I had, so I opted for the campground. Managing to sneakily find a roof under which to lay my head, I didn’t have to get in my bivy bag and slept well, missing the early morning rain.

Monday morning took me home, actually having to wear my rain gear for the half-hour between Waipukurau and Waipawa (huzzah for the new cycle trail taking bikes off State Highway Two). Quiet back roads took me to the busyness of Havelock North. With the slight shower gone, I couldn’t believe how warm, still and settled the weather had been – this ride was worth the wait. Negotiating Hastings, it was then cycle trail all the way back; using some of the plentiful energy left, and perhaps with an eye to the cloud behind, I made good pace to get home half an hour before the heavens opened.

A top leisurely trip all around: great countryside, little traffic and brilliant autumn weather. Now I just have to deal with that sideroad-itis and get back out there exploring more – it is all rather close to home after all.