Category Archives: bikepacking

From the road – two weeks into bikepacking in northern Mongolia

Time, technological capability and inclination to post here during our first two weeks in Mongolia has been lacking. But here we are after a rest day in Tsetserleg with a little post coming up.

Ulaan Bataar as the biggest city by far in this sparsely populated land was interesting to spend a couple of days in making final gear purchases, assembling bikes and organising transport to the northwest for the three of us, our bikes and gear. It enabled us to have a look around. A former Soviet satellite, any ongoing influence of that era was not obvious to my eye.

Certainly weren’t any cars from that time (guess they’ve all decayed), Toyota is obviously king here – easily three-quarters of the passenger vehicles. I thought NZ was bad for used Japanese imports, here there are Priuses, or derivatives, everywhere you look (used imports, the right hand drive steering wheel is on the wrong side – not that that matters on dirt tracks). If it’s not a Prius, it’s a LandCruiser – the big, fancy SUV ones, not the workhorses. Pleasingly oversized pick-up culture has not made it here. As we learnt, Priuses will go anywhere!

There are a few Russian UAZ vans that are well suited to the rough conditions. It was one of these that we crammed three bikes in the back of, along with ourselves further forward, for two days of driving to Murun. From there we rode north to Lake Khuvsgul, which stretches north over a hundred kilometres close to the Russian border, for a little shakedown ride. This involved far more heavy rain than I expected and a lot of highway riding at a busy national festival time of the year. A hundred heavily loaded kilometres in storms and then a headwind were exhausting and a stark wake-up for me and Ian. The scenery helped distract us! But we got away from the crowds to have a lovely night camping by the lake. First herds of yaks ridden beside were a highlight.

Back in Murun we somehow got all the extra gear and food that we’d left at our accommodation on our bikes and headed south on a route of dirt roads that Rachel and Ian had devised to get us to the bikepacking.com Khangai Mountains Traverse route. Mostly smooth dirt roads with plenty of time along and across valleys with occasional climbs and downhills between the next one, there were still Priuses everywhere! But it was all part of the fun, as were beautiful riverside campgrounds, friendly Mongolians, stunning scenery, green green valleys, masses of animals, interesting food and mostly good weather punctuated with almost-daily afternoon thunderstorms.

Those few days of riding were so good, it would be hard to beat – so it proved with the bikepacking.com route, where it was still beautiful and we met plenty of interesting, curious and generous people – but the scenery and riding were just a little bit more harsh. A horrible section of corrugated roads, which we’d been warned about by the only other bikepacker we’d seen to that point, stretched for scores of kilometres either side of Zag. But that was overcome and people, food, vast greenness and views, animals, seeing such a different place are more than enough compensation for the harder points.

This is the first new, and very foreign to me, country I’ve been to for quite a few years – combined with the most bikepacking I’ve done for a long time. So it’s not all easy, but I’m slowly getting my legs back around the challenges. Such a foreign language and alphabet (Cyrillic) is something none of us have really got our heads around, trying and failing to communicate with so many friendly people is quite frustrating. But we get by and have some entertaining and charming encounters.

The conditions haven’t been overly harsh, yet some gear I’ve had for years inconveniently failed near the start of nine days in remote areas. One of which was my air mattress, despite repeated attempts to repair it I eventually left it in the trash. The hardness of sleeping on the ground is not too bad (Mongolian beds are very hard anyway), but by the wee hours the ground is cold – particularly at 2500 m. So I haven’t been sleeping much at all, but am well rested in my spacious new tent (a two-person tent for one person was a good upgrade for such a long trip with a lot of gear). I found and bought a folding foam mattress today, so I should be ok – if I can fit it on my bike somewhere!

Rest day is almost over, heading for the Orkhon Valley tomorrow so I should make the most of this bed and sleep. I haven’t managed to process photos as I normally would, most are still on my camera, but here is a photo dump from my phone as some sort of consolation if you managed to read this far.

Old Woman Range

Far too long since I’d been bikepacking on my actual bikepacking bike, the lure of finally exploring the Old Woman Range in good autumn conditions did the trick – having biked past, or around it, a number of times my curiosity had long since been piqued. So we downed garage-building tools a day early and I headed to Clyde partially packed for a night in the hills.

A leisurely start across the fields, Leaning Rock in the distance.

We found the calm morning changed to a noticeable headwind as the breeze funnelled down the gorge on the Lake Dunstan Cycle Trail. Concern that the rental-bike traffic would be overwhelming was unfounded – except at the narrowest part of the trail (of course!).

A lovely morning’s riding, even if my legs aren’t used to a loaded bike anymore. Wasn’t long before future plans were switching to this bike, away from the faster, lighter gravel bike.

(Rachel’s photo)

Autumnal; out of the gorge and the wind all but gone.

After lunch in Bannockburn we headed for the Nevis Rd, somewhat overwhelmed by a long convoy of vehicles heading that way. What was going on out here? Turning onto the gravel we spied a solitary classic beribboned Rolls Royce, but unattended. Curious.

The Shepherds Creek valley and grovel out of it were baking with no breeze and a thirty degree afternoon. I stopped at a thread of a water race to cool off. A few more pick-ups passed us heading up, and then the motos started coming down. Identical adventure bikes, individually numbered into the 100s, they just kept rolling down – we never discovered what big organised ride they were on.

(Rachel’s photo)

With the grade averaging close to ten percent, I was soon off and pushing at anything over that – which was familiar from the last, more-heavily loaded, trip up here. As we climbed there was still no wind, but the air temperature cooled a bit.

The reason for all the traffic became clear as we approached the summit – suddenly feeling rather underdressed amongst a hundred-odd wedding guests enjoying the views and a few drinks to celebrate. Don’t think they could have got a better day for it!

Extraordinary.

Finally got to see Mt Cook from up here.

With two options to get from the road down to actual Duffers Saddle, we chose the one that took us over the summit of the road to pose with the incorrect Duffers Saddle sign.

(Rachel’s photo)

Quite a drop from the road to the saddle and what looked to be a big push to get on the Old Woman Range.

Some of it I could ride. (Rachel’s photo)

Well pleased with the clear views back to the ranges around home, and that I can now name them all and some of the peaks.

Approaching five o’clock, with only sixty kilometres but over two thousands metres of climbing, I was pretty toasted. Another two-plus hours to get Boundary Hut didn’t sound fun or sensible to me – not when Old Woman Hut was so close and it was new to me.

An easy decision to turn-off and roll down to the hut. A couple of young fellas were already there, having come up on motorbikes – but they clearly didn’t like us, so left after an hour or so. We settled in to a very comfortable hut – it’s recently been relined inside with ply and the sleeping platforms are also new. A short walk up from the hut gives good views of the Nevis Valley, and Mt Cook again.

(Rachel’s photo)

(Rachel’s photo)

After a fairly decent sleep, it was another slow start – that worked well as the hundred-odd motorbikes from yesterday reappeared and were initially using the same route we were. Waiting them out, we only got passed by nine or ten after rejoining the route along Old Woman Range. Having done most of the climbing the day before, it was far easier going – not as steep and not nearly as much of it. We snaked up and down for a few hours glad there was little wind and the forecast weather deterioration was staying away. I was surprised by the number of tarns.

Generally a good riding surface; there was the odd bog from 4WDs to avoid.

Mostly we enjoyed the wide open expanses at such altitude.

Heading for the little bump on the right horizon.

A couple of hours in we passed the turn-off to Boundary Hut – I was particularly pleased to have not pushed that far on Day One. Curiosity was not so strong to want to drop the best part of a hundred metres to see what we’d missed. We joined the Old Man Range at Hyde Rock – which was not at all notable on approach from the tops.

Far more prominent from the valley – of which it gave expansive views.

The rain looked closer out west, so north to the Obelisk we went. Back on a route I’d done before, the track and surroundings were familiar but were completely different without the gale wind blowing riders into fences or turning loaded bikes into kites. I think about my previous visit far too often.

At least I got a few photos this time – this the climb that needed the most effort that day.

The transmitter was visible far back, but only got bigger annoyingly slowly.

Made it and managed not to get clean blown over this time. (Rachel’s photo)

I was particularly looking forward to the Omeo Gully descent. The downhill, dropping 1500 m did not disappoint in any way. It was rough, rocky and loose in parts – as well as steep as I’d want to ride on a loaded bike, encroached by giant tussocks and, when waiting, it gave great views. An absolute blast – loved it. Alas, I was having too much fun to get pictures of the best parts.

Still on the ridge, approaching the turn-off right. Track already rougher than the transmitter service road we’d just been on.

(Rachel’s photo)

(Rachel’s photo)

The lower reaches mellowed out through grazed hillside.

What a great way to get back into bikepacking, finally got up there and motivation is back for more trips. Thanks to Rachel for the idea, impetus and, as always, being a great adventure buddy. Thanks to Mark, Paula and Eilish for the accommodation, untold cups of tea and terrific post-ride cookies that went a long way to replacing any lost calories.

Half-Heaphy – James Mackay Overnighter

With the forecast looking amenable to a pleasant day on the Heaphy, we hastily prepared for a trip in to James Mackay Hut – weather didn’t look so great on the way out, but that was a risk worth taking for time on such a track. Repacking done, the slow drive to Karamea (plenty of roadwork on the winding road) over, and a remarkable pie at Vinnie’s Cafe devoured and we were at Kohaihai trying to evade the sandflies late-morning.

Kohaihai itself not a bad spot, ignoring the insect bites.

All my riding seems to be at a leisurely pace currently, but that’s ok – the Heaphy is wonderful and worth savouring. Far more details and photos from past visits here.

Tom leaving the first beaches and Kohaihai Bluff.

Certainly was looking like a great late-autumn day.

Into the nikau groves.

Rachel emerging from forest on to one of the many swing bridges.

Snacks at Katipo Creek Shelter probably weren’t necessary, as Heaphy Hut is so close, but it was getting warm – I was bewildered to be delayering to summer riding kit. The trail opens up a bit here, in no time we were lunching outside the hut amused by the antics and fighting of the cheeky wekas. It looked as though there were a lot of pigs around, such was the damage to the big lawn in front of the hut – but no, just the wekas ripping up the turf hunting for tasty morsels.

Last time I was through here with Pete, there was the bridge over the Heaphy River had been swept away in a flood – so I was keen to see the new bridges (one crossing the Heaphy below the confluence with the Lewis and the other crossing the Lewis).

This is unusual – quite the convoluted ramp structure to get on to the true left side of the bridge.

Impressive.

The new bridge is much higher above the river. A deceptive incline on the true right side, quite unusual for a swing bridge in the NZ backcountry.

It’s a short section of new trail to cross the Lewis – that bridge not so big, but also more of a climb at the other side than one expects. Another break at the weird Lewis Shelter, because snacks are necessary – especially with a steady two-hour climb next.

The shelter has been closed in, albeit in a rather temporary-looking fashion.

At least that door-of-sorts will keep some weather out.

I suspect this was done for the bridge building, there was a stack of mattresses outside – they weren’t there when the shelter was newer. I pottered on up the climb, nice not to have to spend twenty minutes clambering over a big slip as on last visit. We settled in to a quiet evening in the hut, two other hikers our company. Again with such a large hut and few people in it, it’s difficult to heat – especially with coal no longer supplied and a ropey wood supply.

Supposedly there was some weather to get ahead of on our return, but it sure didn’t look like it. Rachel wanted to go a bit beyond the hut and we were happy to oblige. Fun to attempt slightly more challenging trail – scoured out rocky bits.

We found some rocks and climbed them.

The aforementioned slip about halfway down the long descent to the rivers seemed a good spot to regroup – read: for the others to make sure I’d not gone off the side of the mellow trail – and snack.

Nice to have this bike for the trail riding.

Crossing the Heaphy again. Freewheeling down that bridge, it’s alarming just how much speed one picks up. Hitting an upright definitely to be avoided at that pace.

Pausing in the sun (the weather certainly didn’t come in) to make sure we didn’t carry excess food out, I took the opportunity to wander to the beach – which I’d never had time or bothered to do before. Lovely. At sea level it was warm again, I spent even more time in short sleeves than the previous day. Plenty of time to appreciate the ride out…

A very pleasant two half-days of riding in a beautiful spot (the coastal section always feels like it is somewhere more tropical), we were back at the truck rushing to cover skin and load-up to avoid the bites. Back for another pie in Karamea.

And look at the real estate listings; alas, this has been sold.

The Christmas Letter 2023

Time spent riding this year was always going to be down with shoulder surgery scheduled mid-year, less expected is the year drawing to a close with the least distance covered by bike in over ten years. The year started predominantly at home in Naseby around family. I kept pleasantly busy with casual work driving vans carting bikes, baggage and people around the Otago Central Rail Trail (hard to get sick of driving around Central Otago) and volunteering as much as possible on the local ambulance in an attempt to have all the practical skills signed off to complete the first responder qualification.

The remoteness of the region means we see helicopters responding far more than in urban centres.

I did manage to get out for a few small bikepacking adventures, none of which went quite to plan. After one of the best trips I’d done the previous year, I was keen to head back with Andy to the Lindis headwater area. Strange how we forgot that we swore never to return to this area with loaded bikes. Sweltering in summer weather, it was quickly apparent I was not in any sort of condition for such hills. We did manage to complete most of the loop planned and I was particularly pleased to make it along Grandview Ridge.

The every-other-year Great Southern Brevet, one of my favourite bikepacking events, was only two weeks later and I was in about a dozen different minds about whether I’d show up to ride what is now my backyard, especially with Andy’s much-awaited Nine Stations immediately after. I couldn’t face Grandview Ridge, in the more difficult other direction, again so soon – but the course was changed to take it out and instead include some private land – that was enough to entice me back.

While nice to see so many familiar faces again, it took me a good day and a half to get into it and by the third day things were going well enough – that is until I pulled up at the end of the day with very tight achilles tendons. A good rest overnight, I tried to ride away into more mountains – but quickly decided against that. A few days of rest was enough to allow a day’s ride to collect my car and make it to the start of the Nine Stations ride – but the achilles injuries plagued me for quite some time, and they’re still not a hundred.

Route-maker extraordinaire Andy had somehow got permission to ride through many private stations to put the loop together, it was a privilege to ride some new places with a good group.

Got to stay in this restored hut that we’d seen the previous year.

Dropping down to the Rangitata – TTW memories.

Far enough up the river to safely cross the Rangitata.

Unfortunately, a mechanical early on the third day meant I sat the fourth and final day out – but that held less interest for me, so I wasn’t too put out.

Mid-February I watched from afar in disbelief as Cyclone Gabrielle devastated Hawke’s Bay and so many of the places I’d come to know in the six years I spent living in Napier and biking a lot of the backroads. With electricity and comms compromised for a week, information was sparse but the damage over such a wide area was more than I could comprehend.

I’d have never thought the Esk could burst its banks to flood my former workplace with over a metre and a half of water and the accompanying debris and silt.

The end of summer saw me being support crew (at the last minute by myself) for a friend’s team in the ~week-long Godzone adventure race. It was a great week for me around the beauty of Fiordland. All the driving, planning, packing, unpacking, assembling transition zone, team social media updates, washing and drying vast amounts of clothes and gear was enough of an endurance sport for me – I wasn’t even out there doing the hard yards! Pleasing to be able to support others in their mad adventures.

Heading out onto Manapouri.

I did manage to do a little exploring of my own.

Transition zone set-up.

As my own plans to build a small house in Naseby developed, helping my friend Mike replace my parents’ roof one drizzly autumn week was both satisfying and good experience for future building work.

Old and new steel.

The rest of autumn was a flurry of getting firewood for the winter, more Rail Trail work, and completing the ambulance qualification, just, before shoulder surgery. Surgery went very well and I spent most of the six-weeks of sling wearing staying with and being cared for by Mum and Dad in Dunedin. I was surprised that there was far less pain/discomfort and swelling than the keyhole surgery eleven years before. I made the most of the mild weather by going on increasingly long walks exploring Dunedin and surrounding hills.

Out at Portobello for Mothers’ Day.

A week in Auckland near the end of the sling stint was the first time I’d been to the city for at least four years and I thoroughly enjoyed catching up with many dear, and long-neglected, friends – as well more walking and warmer weather. Sling off and it was back home to Naseby, staring at the prospect of a long, cold winter sitting by the fire reading books unable to do much else as my shoulder recovered.

A well-timed check-in call from a mate (a former colleague) detailed just how much work there was to recover from the flooding in the Pulp Mill and gave the idea that I might go up for a few months and help out. I thought three months would be good, but it was five I was needed for – so less than two weeks later I was back in Napier amongst too many people telling me it was like I never left. Things had certainly changed in two years and I still struggle to believe the amount of recovery work that has already been done and how much is left to get the place running again.

It was odd returning, as Napier isn’t home any more, I’m not living alone in my own house and everyone’s lives have understandably moved on. My shoulder recovery, with some physio, continued to pleasantly surprise me and I was able to get on a bike sooner than I expected. I’d not brought a bike with me, so it was an opportunity to give a gravel bike a try buying a secondhand one. I thought I might sell it if I didn’t like it, but I’ve decided it’s a glorified, but useful, road bike and I’ll keep it for some different exploring when I return home.

There used to be a bridge there.

Getting back to parkrun, a large part of my previous Napier life, was good to try and get some fitness back; I managed to cut the gap to my 5 km personal best in half before picking up a side strain which has halted further progress. As it happens, the work in the Pulp Mill is nowhere near complete (which rather hinders my role as Completions Manager – yeah, I’d never heard of such a thing either) so I was asked to stay through summer until pulp should be coming out of the mill again – something I’d really like to see.

We managed to agree on what another four months, and summer, away from home and family was worth – but equally I’m sticking around to see a place that was good to me and is the livelihood of many workmates and an important part of Hawke’s Bay on its feet again. Pleasingly, the work is engaging, keeps developing and very satisfying. The second half of this video gives a better idea of what’s been going on.

I’m down south in Dunedin for a week and Christmas with my parents, and an overdue venesection (haemochromatosis seems to be nicely under control now, blood letting only required every few months), before returning to Naseby for a week at home doing little – maybe some biking and ambulance cover. All the best for yours and the new year!