Category Archives: bikepacking

bikepacking, bikes, event, GPS, NZ

Tour Aotearoa – My Day Two – Ahipara to Waipoua Forest

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With little sleep behind me, it was up & ready to ride before dawn. My appetite had disappeared again, I only managed to get half a muesli bar down. It was a pretty chatty morning as I left the campground with Kevin, a firefighter from Nelson, and we rode at a similar pace to each other as the route got a whole lot hillier than the previous day – that is not to say it was really hilly, rather the beach was obviously lacking in changes in altitude.

It was a beautifully clear morning, there was little traffic on these backroads of Northland and I was really enjoying the riding as it warmed up and the mist eventually burnt off. Stopping for a quick snack and to de-layer at Broadwood (another little town I had no idea existed), I still couldn’t manage to eat much – but was feeling good. Soon after we turned off the sealed road to a graveled forestry road, once again passing pretty close to the same oversized truck that we’d now seen three times.

A lovely misty morning riding through small, but numerous hills.

This road was a late addition to the route – and a much hillier one. I didn’t know this at the time, but I was not resenting the hills over the flatter more-normal route. It was good riding and a whole lot more interesting than eighty kilometres of beach! Looking at the GPS file, I’m surprised to see that in the sixty-odd kilometres to the Hokianga ferry there was over a thousand metres of climbing.

As the day warmed and we had the big downhill finally to sea level, the lack of appetite and food began to catch up with me as I started to feel rather peaky. I vaguely remember the harbour being glasslike and a tranquil scene; but on the short ferry trip waves of nausea cascaded down – somehow I made it off the ferry & into Rawene. I’ve never been particularly good if I don’t/can’t eat (can’t imagine why), and also somewhat susceptible to heat – so this was hardly surprising. I sat in a cafe for a while, wanting desperately to be able to eat something – but just couldn’t bring myself to. Eventually I gathered the strength and was pleased to find a small pharmacy. The pharmacist was very nice and quite helpful.

Heading into Rawene – the first of the five boat rides on the course.

A bit more of the Hokianga.

I faithfully made up the electrolyte solution in the shade. But this was far too much liquid at once for my stomach to handle; thankfully there was little else in there, but that was also the cause of the problem I suppose.

An amusing diversion from my ills was watching these boys and horses playing in the shallows of the harbour. They were all having a much better time than I was; their laughter was pleasing. Note the boy in the water being towed through the water by the horse on the right.

Not much good for anything else (especially the 180 km I had been debating on trying to ride by tomorrow morning to catch the morning ferry to Helensville from Poutu Point), I went and found a nice patch of grass by the harbour shaded by a big tree. I promptly had a big nap; that, and some doctorly and sisterly messaging had me feeling comparatively great in a couple of hours. All of a sudden I had an appetite again and was craving carbs and salt. Salt and vinegar crisps (which became staple Tour Aotearoa food for me), helped a bit – but I was still hungry. What else does one do after vomiting a couple of hours before, but go to the chippie and order their biggest burger and a scoop of chips? They went down a treat as I chatted to a local nan and her grandkids about our ride to Bluff – like most people along the way, she was really interested and supportive.

That unplanned four hour break over, I was sufficiently better to carry on into the afternoon heat a little slower than normal. Mostly it was sea-level road around to the mouth of the Hokianga, but there were a couple of climbs nudging ten percent gradient – but not that tall – to make it a bit of work. I rested and ate a bit more at Opononi before the hills started in earnest.

The steepest climb so far, or so it felt, was out of Omapere – at least it gave a good view of the Hokianga meeting the Tasman.

For a while we followed the Waimamaku River upstream, stopping in its eponymous village for more wonderful food & flavoured milk (long bike rides really do give an excuse to eat & and drink all sorts of things I wouldn’t otherwise) before climbing out of the valley and heading south. Despite it being early evening, the heat of the day had not dissipated and this slow steady climb was the biggest yet by three hundred metres. Some consolation was the road was quiet and the native forest wonderful to be riding through. Nearing the next photo checkpoint, I caught up to Marilyn – because of my big mid-day break I got to meet a few people I would not have otherwise. Still with a thick Newfoundland accent after decades in NZ, she had her whole North Island accommodation planned out and on track to do the event in approximately hundred-kilometre days. A fantastic effort! I was very pleased when she said she’d booked a cabin at the only campground in ages, just a bit down the road, and there were extra bunks. I really needed a good sleep that I knew my tent wouldn’t provide. I was grateful for such generosity to let me take one of those extra bunks.

We stopped and took our photo of the giant Tane Mahuta. It’s hard to get a sense of scale as it is some way from the viewing platform: the trunk is eighteen metres tall, total height about fifty one metres and trunk girth of nearly fourteen metres.

A wonderfully fast descent through light, cooling drizzle took us down to a river and we had to ride a couple of miles off-course downstream to the campground. It was so good not to have to worry about where I’d sleep – I even got a shower, that was two in two nights – luxury! Despite my four hour break in the middle of the day and the horrible nausea, I’d still managed a respectable day of 120 km and a fair few hills (over 2000 m of climbing) in the heat. Not quite as far along as I had wanted to be, but I wasn’t displeased – in fact I was very happy, I could eat again. There was much rejoicing; actually, there was much sleeping.

bikepacking, bikes, event, GPS, NZ

Tour Aotearoa – My Day One – Cape Reinga to Ahipara

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Waking to a warm, clear and still day in the north, there was plenty of time to do those last minute things and to pop into town to get some lunch. By the time Dad dropped me at the start point, the parking lot was teeming and buzzing with excited/anxious people eager to begin the journey down the length of the country. With so many people and loaded bikes around, it could have got a bit overwhelming so I just quietly got ready and soon enough it was time for the short briefing (which I think was mostly for those that had hired their SPOT trackers & didn’t really know how to use them).

The first photo control point – I really could not bothered wandering all the way down & back up the hill to somewhere I’ve been enough times before.

My support crew (Dad) snapped a picture of me happy and clean before the off; happy didn’t really change, clean definitely did.

Without much fuss, it was two o’clock and we were off into so many unknowns. But the first fourteen kilometres were known – we’d just driven/ridden up that part of State Highway One to Cape Reinga. A fast downhill was followed by a short climb before descending again and turning off the highway (I don’t think we were back on SH1, for more than a few hundred metres, until the very end of the route) and onto a graveled road to the beach. I started near the back and was trying hard not to put much effort in so early on. Eventually the road turned to riding on sand and down a stream bed as we got closer to the beach and some rather large sand dunes.

Rather large sand dunes looming.

They got bigger/I got closer.

There was quite a bit of stream crossing and riding. Very soon I was glad to be riding without external gears; this feeling amplified on the beach with all its sand and salt.

The standing joke of the first day seemed to be: when you get to the beach, make sure you turn left. And that was the end of the navigation for four and a half hours!

It was just over an hour before I reached the beach. Unfortunately, the still day was no more – there was a bit of a breeze that was more than annoying as it did have a headwind component. But we had it much better than Wave One who battled a much worse wind along the beach. A group was just setting off from the beach as I arrived, so I jumped on as I figured it’d be much easier with company.

This seems to be the only photo I have from riding along the beach – I guess because it is fairly representative of what I saw for four and a half hours.

The beach was stunningly beautiful – but with eighty kilometres of not making a turn, I had to remind myself of this fact often. Groups morphed over those few hours as some slowed, some sped up and so on. My speed was fairly constant with few stops, just trying to get it over with. I thought I was eating & drinking reasonably well, but I guess the wind and the sun took more out of me than it felt like at the time. It was good to be off the beach and into the campground (the endpoint I decided for the first day, so as not to go out too hard too early) around sunset. However, I started to feel rather nauseous and lost my appetite. A shower and a bit of downtime helped and I was able to keep a large burger and some chips down.

Alas, sleep didn’t come easily as more and more riders kept coming off the beach through the night and setting up camp – something it doesn’t seem possible to do quietly, or without shining lights all around. That ended up being the last time I used my tent for the entire trip – yet I carried it with me the length of the country! There were a few times where I thought I’d have to use it again, but I managed to find other shelter that didn’t require the set-up & pack-down time of the tent.

Despite the nausea, I was thrilled with a great day on the bike and that my Tour was finally underway; not to mention, the eager anticipation I felt for all the riding and sights to come. Bring on Day Two, and the rest.

around home, bikepacking, bikes, GPS, NZ

Bikepacking to Everett’s Campsite via Darkys Spur

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After the success of the last bikepacking trip through Waikaremoana to Rotorua, Steve was easily persuaded to join me on a smaller trip closer to home. I’d been studying the topo map of the hills behind work, of which I’d ridden into a little way, and thought I could string a good overnighter together – camping at a DOC campsite on the Mohaka River. A fine sunny weekend was forecast, the only possible problem there being the thirty-plus temperatures.

Saturday morning was spent doing chores and shopping for food. So, it wasn’t until after one o’clock we set off north from Napier. The ride around the coast was as stunning as ever – even though it’s the way I ride to work often, it felt quite different on the weekend with a loaded bike heading off on an adventure.

All smiles at the prospect of exploring somewhere new – Steve has now perfected the riding selfie, no thumbs in this one.

Up Waipunga Road, we were headed for gravel roads that I had at least pedalled over previously. The heat wasn’t unbearable with a bit of motion-induced breeze, but definitely it was hot. Reaching the end of Waipunga Road, we were atop Darkys Spur and ready to zoom down to Waikoau. I insisted we stop a couple of times on the way down to take in the view of the hills and the gravel road winding its way down to the valley floor. Looking at that inviting topo map, I think there are more, smaller, adventures to be had exploring around here.

Passing through the unexpected and decidedly odd ex-Railways village of Waikoau, we were back on sealed road heading down the valley to the Wairoa road. There we knew was the Tutira Store – our last chance to refuel. It was stupidly hot in the store – which went someway to explaining why the woman behind the counter was so grumpy when we asked to fill water bottles, after buying delicious ice creams. I was not surprised to see a For Sale sign up – looking after customers was not a talent on display. We filled our water bottles at the charming little school over the road and headed north-east & inland.

I hadn’t realised there were so many walking tracks and other things to see up this seemingly innocuous country road. Forced to stop at Opouahi Scenic Reserve to wait for a mob of lambs to be herded down the road, we found a nice little lake surrounded by bush and a kiwi (the bird, not the fruit) creche – for which our company seems to be the naming sponsor, who knew?

While we waited we could look back over the valley we’d just ridden down to Darkys Spur – you can just see the cutting for the road heading down and right from the centre of the ridge.

To my surprise, I got closer to the lake than Steve – he didn’t have a swim at all during our ride. (c.f. the three of the last trip)

Just a NZ backcountry traffic jam.

The steady climbing on the well-surfaced gravel road continued as we started to ride through more bush than farmland. Interesting rocky outcrops started to appear on the small bluffs. We avoided being accidentally shot by a farmer out hunting rabbits as dusk settled in.

I didn’t know these signs actually existed – I have a small plastic version that someone (Adele) sent me while I was overseas, I suspect to make me homesick.

There were yet more trailheads to pass – I must come back one day when I’ve run out of places to ride and check out some of the hiking trails. Reaching our highest point for the day, about 800 m above seal level, the views opened up to the north.  In the early evening light I’d really been enjoying the climb and this just topped it off.  We could see a long way north. I checked my GPS’s list of “cities” nearby – we were only forty kilometres from Tuai, a village we rode through on the Waikaremoana trip!  Sometimes I’m surprised by the distance one can cover on a bike with minimal effort – or maybe, it’s just NZ really is quite small.

I’d enjoyed seeing many different uses of the land on this ride so close to the city. Now we were definitely heading into plantation forest.

We reached our northern-most point on the route and turned onto Waitara Road – obviously a haul road for logging trucks, it was the widest gravel road I’ve seen in a long time. We were hauling too down there as we lost a lot of altitude. Unfortunately, after so many hours in the heat there were a few not-insubstantial climbs to surmount before we finally got to the turnoff to the campsite. But the climbing was not over quite yet – eventually, we rolled down the final descent just before eight o’clock.

For an isolated campsite inaccessible to motorhomes, campervans and small cars – it was pretty busy. There was enough daylight left to make camp, head down to the Mohaka to cool and wash off the day’s dust and sunscreen, clean up some severe food leakage in my cooking set and make a well-earned dinner. A warm night with a big moon, it was plenty bright. Steve had no qualms in settling for the bivy bag, while I took my little tent. All slept well as it turned out we’d done more climbing in significantly less distance than the Waikaremoana trip – I wasn’t expecting that.

I think I even made the outrageous claim that I enjoyed that day’s riding more than the Waikaremoana trip – & that was fantastic. Perhaps it was just the living-in-the-moment thing that made it seem so good. But after a couple of days, it still seems that good – maybe because it was a route made up just to go & see what was out there and not one I’d got out of a book. Anyway, I’ll stop trying to rationalise it – it was an excellent afternoon of bikepacking finding new places so close to home.

However, due to leaving it too late in being persuaded in trying to get permission (from a forest owner and a farmer) to access an alternative, more interesting and lower-traffic route home, Sunday was only good without being exceptional. Still, I can’t complain about being out on a bike in the sun – I’ll just have to do the trip again (which I’d be more than happy to do) and organise the land access earlier to make the return to Napier more enjoyable.

Sunday morning continued on gravel with a fair climb up from the river to get us going. Soon we were back on the sealed road and came across the more accessible Glenfalls Campsite – it was very popular, I remember now that it is still school holidays. Our morning got a little more social as first we chatted with a Canadian cycle-tourist (who’d braved the length of the Napier-Taupo, which I’m not keen on doing) and then dropped in to visit someone from work – who just happened to live at the turn-off to the forest I want to ride through next time.

Glenfalls looks a popular place to camp.

From there, it was on the highway for twenty-five kilometres – consisting of one big climb and then a long descent towards the coast. The Sunday morning traffic wasn’t too bad and I pootled up the hill OK. We turned off to take backroads back to the city – we found out we missed a four-car pile-up near this intersection by half an hour, it closed the road. Thankfully the diverted traffic never caught up to us on these smaller roads as we rolled into Napier happy campers (quite literally).

It didn’t take long before my eyes turned back to the local topo maps to start planning more loops in the hills – so much to explore when you live somewhere new!

bikepacking, bikes, engineering, GPS, national park, NZ

Bikepacking Waikaremoana – Wairoa to Rotorua

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The possibility of riding between home (Napier) and Rotorua had been mentioned a couple of times at work by Steve and me. While not initially put off by the idea, the thought of doing over two-hundred kilometres of highway (the start hilly and quite narrow) in one day rather discouraged me. Then a cycle-tourist who stayed the night carried on north to Wairoa and then rode the Waikaremoana highway. This is a highway in the loosest sense of the word – winding its way through the rugged and remote Te Urewera National Park, it is mostly gravel, sees little traffic and there are few settlements along the way. It is, however, yet another beautiful part of the country.

Convinced of the brilliance of a two-day bikepacking trip through the area, I just had to bring Steve around to the idea of a lot of unsealed-road riding. Although he’d never been bikepacking or cycle-touring, it wasn’t hard to get Steve onboard with the promise of a big, new type of adventure. A representative triathlete, I was a bit worried I wouldn’t be able to keep up with Steve as he’s one of those people who is so unbelievably active, it’s tiring just thinking about it; also, with Steve’s sizeable dose of Fear-of-Missing-Out I shouldn’t have been surprised he was a surefire starter-for-ten for my mad (the general consensus around the office as our plans leaked out) idea.

Unfortunately, we didn’t even got to Wairoa on our first attempt as I, unusually, got ill just in time for New Year’s weekend. This worked out well, as the weather turned horrid over much of the North Island that long-weekend – I was glad not to be out riding in such weather and sleeping in a tent. All the details worked out well for a repeat attempt the following weekend, so off we set for Wairoa early that Saturday morning. Delightfully, the fabled Osler’s Bakery was just opening as we drove into town – steak and mushroom pies are OK at eight o’clock in the morning for second breakfast, aren’t they? It was already 24ºC as we emptied the car and got our bikes and luggage sorted. It was clearly going to be a hot day, but we had all day to do 120-odd kilometres and the breeze blowing into us wasn’t too strong as we headed north over the Wairoa River and turned inland.

It was all rather flat for quite a while as we went up the broad river valley.

I was pleased to find classic Tip Top ice cream and Fanta advertisements on the side of a long-since-closed corner store in Frasertown.

I’m sure this sign is to warn off inexperienced gravel-road drivers and people who expect state highways in NZ to be up to a much higher standard than some (read: most) of them are. For the bikepacker, this serves to add to the anticipation for lightweight travel through remote places; I was well pleased to see this sign.

It was still all smiles as we had plenty of practice taking photos while riding along. This a particularly good one of Steven’s thumb, and for a change I make a photographic appearance in my own blog.

The sealed road ended after about thirty kilometres, but the climbing up to Lake Waikaremoana didn’t start in earnest for another fifteen or so. Another advantage of not doing this trip the previous weekend, was a lack of public-holiday traffic. That being said, there was a fair few people returning from the lake with boats and caravans at the end of their holidays. But the surface was good and we never had a problem with the traffic. Even the persistent norwester wasn’t too much of a hindrance on such a fine day – it had more of a cooling effect than a slowing one.

Taking a slight detour off the highway, we began a little side-tour; that of the Waikaremoana Hydro Power Scheme. This the lowest of three small power stations linked together, all using water flowing from the Lake Waikaremoana.

Riding across the dam of the hydro lake at Tuai – the power station in the distance. Most of our riding was now surrounded by either water or vast expanses of native bush.

First swim stop of the day for Steve.

As is quite common, a small town (large village, really) was to be found near this hydro power scheme. This one, Tuai, obviously built for the construction of the dams & powerhouses and still looking in really good condition. Just a representative house that I happened to snap while riding past.

We rejoined the highway and the climbing continued, but never steeply. Here we look back down to Tuai.

We lost a bit of altitude taking another detour to the third power station, Kaitawa. These penstocks bring water down from Lake Waikaremoana after it’s travelled through a tunnel. It was at this point Steve suggested we should ride up there as a shortcut; I suggested he go jump in the lake while I had first-lunch.

A rather reflective sign about the power scheme: in case anyone still cares and so I can stop banging on about it so much.

Quite picturesque really, despite the infrastructure. We set off on a short walk around the lake, but it never opened up and gave us good access to or views of the lake. So we turned back.

Steve did take that second swim, while I enjoyed my bacon & egg pie from Osler’s. Only when he tried to get out of the tailrace, did Steve realise the walls were really quite high.

We did make it up the access road beside the penstocks – it did save a bit of backtracking distance and in our granny gears the 20+% gradient was OK.

After that steep climb, we were pretty much at lake (Waikaremoana) level after about five hours and sixty kilometres. From there it was undulating for seven kilometres around the lake edge to Home Bay and second-lunch. You may have noticed a bit of a theme here: not travelling solo meant taking a large tent, which somehow Steve ended up with (still didn’t really help me to tire him out). Which in turn meant I had a lot more room on my bike to carry delicious, and necessary, food.

Finally, more of Panekire Bluffs came into view – much as I remember them from my last visit to the area to do the three-day hike around the lake with Adele.

Once again it proved impossible to keep Steve out of the water – just a swim across Home Bay & back this time, about a mile. I sat under a tree and enjoyed the $80/kg pastrami from the store at the campground.

Following the north edge of the lake on pretty flat road (now with even less traffic than not-much), I was confident that we would easily make the saddle and highest point on the route well before we’d had enough for the day or run out of daylight.

When we rode over the bridge atop Mokau Falls, we didn’t even realise they were there – let alone, that they looked like this.

This was our final view of Panekire Bluffs, perhaps the best yet.

Heading away from the lake towards the saddle, it was a gradual climb up a gentle valley shaded by the dense bush on our left. Crossing from Hawkes Bay to Bay of Plenty it wasn’t long until the summit. While the route was an awful long gravel road, it was interspersed with short stretches of seal – mostly around settlements and on any steep hills. Over the saddle I was pleased that the steep descent was sealed – my cross tyres proving a bit sketchy on anything too loose and fast.

We’d heard much of wild horses all over the road once over the saddle. Here, our first sighting; also memorable as just past all those cars was our first being-chased-by-a-fierce-dog experience of the trip (something else we’d also be warned about).

We took the opportunity to fill water bottles at a derelict motel in Ruatahuna – I haven’t got sick yet – before a few kilometres up to where there was supposed to be a campground. At least I was hoping so, details were elusive online – I think it was once a DOC campsite, but no longer. Anyway, it was there with a picnic table, plenty of space, a toilet, the Whakatane River in its infancy and masses of persistent sandflies (a bit like Scottish midges, small bitey insects that attack by stealth [unlike mosquitoes]). Steve made camp and just for a change from lakes, got in the river for his fourth swim of the day while I whistled up the culinary delights that are freeze-dried meals.

What a fantastic day’s riding – great route, excellent scenery, lovely summer weather, plenty of food, good adventuring company and even a bit of engineering history. Well pleased and well worth the effort.

Our set-up for the evening, I probably should have been not still sitting down.

We even had blue ducks visit our campsite! An endangered species native to NZ, they feature on our ten dollar note/bill and I don’t think I’ve ever seen one before. Fortuitously, we didn’t even have to go searching for them, as they can be hard to find (obviously, they’re endangered & therefore rare) – they came to us.

A few of the locals dropped in for an evening graze.

After a warm, surprisingly restless night considering the previous day’s efforts it was a leisurely start to the day. Fueled up on porridge and many other snacks (jerky for breakfast? – if you’re going to carry excess food, you may as well eat it) we were on our way. The morning had cooled a fair bit and it was slightly cloudy too – just as well we started with an easy climb to warm us up again. Seemingly in the middle of nowhere, we came across a fair few people just walking along the otherwise deserted road. Rather odd, until we got to a rather small settlement with a marae.

Our gentle climb to start the day, just kept on going and turned out to take us to the highest point of the day – we were done with it within an hour and the road turned back to seal (mostly) for the screaming descent to the Minginui turn-off. And that was the gravel road riding done for the day – things weren’t quite so interesting as we got out of the remoter areas. Actually, things started to look vaguely familiar. When Dad was a dairy management consultant in the Bay in the ’90s, this area was on the outer edges of one of his patches. So when we stopped to talk to local roadies on their Sunday morning rides (not a cafe stop in sight out here), I recognised a fair few place names.

The steelwork of destroyed picnic tables makes for great bike-stands; here at the highest point of the second day – looking back over the Ureweras.

We stopped at this old service station shortly before Murupara to fill water bottles – we’d been warned about the dogs in town, so avoided that.

From Murupara it was a twelve or so kilometre climb up through boring plantation forest with fast-moving traffic into the wind. Definitely not with the pleasure of the previous day’s riding. Still, the closer we got to Rotorua the more familiar things seemed. We started passing places I remember from my first bike tour twenty years ago (crikey) – a school holiday camp.

It was strange seeing Mt Tarawera looming up from a different angle – but all the same, there it was.

We turned off the highway just before Rainbow Mountain and joined the Te Ara Ahi for our final stretch to Rotorua and Steve’s car. Stopping at Lake Okaro (a rather nice little lake I didn’t even know was there – there are many lakes in the area) to finish off the food for lunch, I was surprised that Steve didn’t have a swim. There’s a slim chance he was getting a little tired, but I think it unlikely. Heading west from Waimangu, we bore the brunt of a vigourous westerly – it was awful. But then the cycle trial turned for twenty kilometres of downhill to town – the wind didn’t matter so much then. I don’t recommend that cycle trail – it’s basically a concrete path right next to the highway: dead boring and quite horrible.

At least it was an easy finish to a most excellent adventure – with a bit of luck I’ve opened Steve’s eyes to the possibilities of exploring all sorts of places by bike. We got to Steve’s parents’ place, cleaned up, ate a bit more and filled the car.  Somehow we fitted in three bikes, all our touring luggage, some Christmas presents, two collapsible workshop benches and countless tools.