Category Archives: MTB

bikepacking, bikes, GPS, MTB, NZ

Whirinaki and Moerangi Trails

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Thirteen years since I last mountain-biked in Whirinaki Forest Park, it was an easy decision to head over after work Friday to meet a group from the Bay of Plenty to bikepack the since-opened-to-bikes Moerangi Trail. Cutting through some rough and rutted forestry roads was probably a bit of a shock for my little car, which is usually lucky just to get out of the garage. Nonetheless, two hours of driving had me at the Whirinaki Rec. Camp where we would stay Friday night and then leave our vehicles, hopefully, safe and sound.

The three keen ones that had biked over a hundred kilometres from Rotorua already had the fire roaring in the large outdoor kitchen and dining area. Introductions were made, dinners were cooking and the rest of the crew arrived well after dark. Brief and light showers passed as we chatted around the fire and most drifted off to bed early.

Saturday dawned clear and bright. As we had ample time to get to Skips Hut that night, we left our bikepacking kit at the camp and headed off for a warm-up lap around the MTB track. The climb to the trailhead got the heart going.

Continuing to climb through dense forest, the kaka called raucously as we passed. Unloaded bikes were great as we made good time around. Getting further down the track tree fall became more prevalent. Some it was worth stopping to clear, others were too large and required a bit of portage over or around. I had a blast once all the descending started. On a fully rigid bike, line choice became more important as there were plenty of water channels and other obstacles to pick around or through. So much fun on such a short trail.

Back at camp, an early lunch was cooked and eaten amongst packing of bikes and enjoying the sun’s warmth. As we had all afternoon to ride less than forty kilometres to Skips Hut, adding a side-trip to Ruatahuna (there’s a cafe there now) and back was mooted. That would have been another forty kilometres and nigh-on a thousand metres of climbing. We decided to forgo that “opportunity” have a more leisurely afternoon and set off for the Waikaremoana Road.

This camp is fantastic – three ten-bunk cabins ($30/night/cabin), flush toilets, solar-heated showers, no electricity or cell reception and a big sheltered kitchen-dining area.

Up the only decent hill on that section of main road, we regrouped at the top in the sun (trying to ignore the waft of a recently deceased animal somewhere in the bush) before descending to the turn-off. The road gently climbed for most of its length alongside the Okahu stream.

Dense forest surrounded the flood debris and damage.

The kicker was the end of the road that reared steeply to the parking lot and gavevanother opportunity to regroup.

I had plenty of opportunity to lean my bike on trail entrances.

The afternoon started to cool as we lost the sun and headed into the forest. The climbing got even steeper as we wound our way up to the watershed and into Hawke’s Bay. But with the trail twisting and turning to concentrate on, it was easier going than that last stretch of road. Thoroughly enjoying the drop to the hut, a trail crew must have been through as it was clear of fallen trees.

There were a few of these bridges, which in themselves were OK – but the approaches only had a rail on one side and often a precipitous drop close to where the rail forced one to ride. Also, I found the last of the sunlight.

This small waterfall was shortly before Skips Hut.

Slips had made parts of the approach to the hut well exposed, but save a bit of clay mud, all were through OK. With two others already in the nine-bed hut, our group of seven filled it nicely and we didn’t have to carry onto the next hut. Again dinner was cooked, the fire lit and biking-centred chat ensued. Also again, most went to sleep early while Pete and I chatted about biking trips and routes past and future.

Crammed on the third level of bunks up against the ceiling (getting onto the bed and into a sleeping bag demanded all of my limited flexibility), I could have slept a lot worse than I did. We rose with daybreak, ate and packed. A clear morning for the first day of spring, there was a heavy frost. I’d put my bike under the verandah but found myself scraping much frost off it before we departed. Leaving before eight, digits were numb with the cold for the first half hour. The climbing continued, with a lot of the gradient easily over ten percent.

Half an hour later the sunlight started to fall on the canopy not far from where I was; emerging into the open around Rogers Hut, I finally felt its warmth on my skin.

One of the earliest huts in the park, it was built for deer cullers going about their work as deer ran rampant in the forest.

Not many huts I’ve been to have stained glass windows.

Word came through that the tail were fixing a puncture; John and Tony weren’t hanging around as they were riding back to Rotorua, so I continued with them as I was keen to keep warm and make short work of remaining twenty kilometres. That did include a two-hour climb back over the watershed returning to the Bay of Plenty. Thickly forested, there were occasional glimpses further afield.

One of the highlights of the weekend was watching a pair of blue ducks noisily make their way down this rather turbulent bit of stream.

Waiting quarter of an hour at the turn-off to Moerangi Hut seemed a bit much, so I continued to the top before thoroughly enjoying the long and fun descent all the way to the end of the trail.

Looking out over Bay of Plenty hills again.

With plenty of time before noon, on the few kilometres of gravel back to the car I tweaked a few things after my bike fit the previous weekend. While it was a short weekend by distance (less than a hundred kilometres), there was a fair bit of climbing and time on the bike. I’m pleased so far with how minor adjustments to riding position, a new saddle, and arch support in my shoes has made my riding position more neutral and comfortable, while also seeming to give a better base for, and transfer of, power to the pedals. There is of course the chance that I’m fooling myself, but I guess time shall tell.

Lunching in the sun, I packed the car and enjoyed the drive home reflecting on a most excellent weekend and scheming up more rides in the area. It was a great group – most are preparing for next year’s Tour Aotearoa and seemed interested to hear bikepacking stories and tips. Good fun learning from others and sharing the ride, I’m looking forward to more such rides soon. Thanks to Malcolm (from Te Puke, no less) for organising it all.

After four years, I finally turned off the highway and checked out Waipunga Falls – mostly because I’d been driving beside the river for quite a while that afternoon.

around home, bikes, event, GPS, MTB, NZ

Triple Peaks – finally

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Since moving to Hawke’s Bay near on four years ago, I’ve heard much of the long-established Triple Peaks event. It seemed to have a reputation as a punishing race (MTB or run) climbing three peaks (obviously) near Havelock North. As two of the peaks are on private land, this event is one of the few chances to ride all three. I fairly regularly ride up Te Mata Peak and had been fortunate enough to ride up Mt Erin with a group – which just left the tallest, Mt Kahuranaki, for me to check out.

Unfortunately the weather had been dire the previous two years, and with the Tukutuki River running too high the reserve course had to be used – removing Kahuranaki from the event. One of those years it was so wet, Mt Erin was removed too and the race just went up a very slippery Te Mata three times. Keen to see new places, I’ve always reserved my entry until the weather forecast was likely to allow exploring of somewhere new. This year was finally that time; I entered a few days beforehand.

The days leading up to race day were dry, so the river was low and the A-course was good to go. A little rain overnight before the start greased things up just a bit. It had been a long time since I’d done an actual race, and I certainly wasn’t in anything resembling race-mode (whatever that is) – I’d chosen my bikepacking bike and left the frame bag on so I could carry plenty of food for the fifty kilometres, which I hoped would take me about four to four and a half hours. I found a spot near the middle of the field as 120-odd riders waited for the seven-thirty start.

That wasn’t a great idea, I should back myself more, as climbing gently out of town on seal I eased past many people on much bigger bikes – bringing numerous comments about a motor being hidden in my frame bag. I was in no rush as we started the climb of Mt Erin on farm tracks. It certainly was greasy and at times, with the particular tyres I had, it was easier to get off and run through sections of mud and slop. At least I wasn’t on a cyclocross bike – that looked miserable.

Suddenly the track we had been following ended and the course had us carrying and pushing bikes up steep, slippery grass slopes. I wasn’t quite expecting this level of hike-a-bike, but without luggage my bike seemed very light – another bright side. Settling into the adventure, I admired the view over the Heretaunga Plains as it opened up.

There was a camera, so I got back on my bike.

I stopped longer to admire the view, and found the doctor to snap a picture of this close-to-home adventure.

The music emanating from near the transmission tower drew us closer. I may have stopped a while longer to listen a bit.

Just your average piper and drummer on top of a hill at eight-thirty on a Saturday morning as scores of people rode and ran past.

Off Mt Erin on a rigid bike was just brutal. The tracks were rough enough, but crossing steep paddocks threw me all around and slowed me – plenty of people passed me. But that was only ten minutes of bouncing about before a winding trail through some riverside scrub led to the river crossing. With the Tukituki only knee-high, it was a fairly easy carry and rather nice to cool off a little. Through the aid station I’d no need to pause before a short section of road and farm track led to the bottom of Kahuranaki.

I was surprised when Shaun, a colleague and much stronger rider than me, caught up to me and chatted for a bit – surely he was well ahead of me. I’d not recognised him bent over repairing a flat at the bottom of Mt Erin. Climbing around the back of Kahuranaki was a steady gradient of ten percent, the surface was mostly good and I made steady progress. Nearing the summit, loud tunes were blasting down from a huge sound system – this was certainly motivating and took one’s mind off the climb. Cloud rolled in and it got quite misty very briefly, I enjoyed what of the view I could see. Only just below the summit did the hike-a-bike start, picking one’s way through boulders strewn down the slope.

Another camera, time to hold onto mine and get back on the bike.

With a last scramble up to the trig and a tentative carry off the very peak, it was more bumpy crossing of pasture before finally reaching a well-maintained track. The descent turned fast and wild. Forty-one minutes up, thirteen down. It was fantastic fun; made somewhat exciting on the bi-directional part of the course where some people couldn’t grasp the concept of keeping left. Never mind, it was exhilarating weaving at pace through those hardly moving.

Through the river aid-station again, it was encouraging to hear a couple of familiar voices cheering above the rather loud drums (not of the highland variety). Another familiar face was a marshall at a point halfway across flatter farmland. It is nice to see such people unexpectedly in the middle of events. A stretch of quiet dead-end road had us continuing our route paralleling the river, before we turned away and sharply rose through another farm. More ten percent gradient and more pushing.

Back on the bike, we approached the final peak, Te Mata, from the opposite side to that which I am used to. Some familiar spots led to the Back Track, which is normally walking only. Well, going up, it was still walking only. More of a goat track, it was narrow and numerous switchbacks led up the steep slope. It was easy enough to push up it, but at almost twenty percent it was not a climb I’d be riding up anytime soon – I’d definitely not be able to negotiate the corners. I was happy with my progress and energy levels still, every so often I’d haul someone else in and then expect them to pass me on the descents – they didn’t anymore.

With time for a brief drink at the top, familiar trails beckoned me back to town and the finish. Still bumpy on MTB trails, I held on and pointed down. Thankfully we didn’t have to survive the original MTB track – there would have been significant carnage. Instead, flying down the road for a bit, we hit the flowy trails to Chambers Walkway, a brief bit of road and then some more singletrack before the final road section. To my surprise I still had plenty left to pedal hard and get back in four hours and eight minutes.

Even more startling was that I’d got home in tenth place in a field of a hundred and twenty. I wasn’t really expecting that, and perhaps should have not faffed around so much with photos and admiring the view. Never mind, it was a great morning out on the bike seeing new places and views. With far more hike-a-bike than expected, it certainly was a challenging ride – but I loved it and was proper impressed by such a well-run and iconic local event. Definitely worth the wait.

bikes, family, GPS, MTB, NZ

Buster Hut and over to Danseys Road

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In Naseby after a lovely family Christmas, Adele was keen to take our visitors from afar (well, Sydney) up to Buster Hut to show off some of her and James’s local playground. Driving up the same track that we skied up in July in the new pick-up may have also been part of the attraction. Alas, there were six of us and only five seats; it didn’t take long to spot a good opportunity to bike up. I soon found a different route down to make a decent fifty-odd kilometre unsealed loop.

Leaving home a bit later than intended, I still hoped to reach Buster Diggings just before lunch was driven up to me – spoilt! About ten kilometres of fords, gravel climbs and descents in beating sunshine got me to the huts where the track really starts to climb. A family in a Prado played leap-frog with me a bit, they were strangely, and ego-boostingly, astounded that anyone would bike up the road, let alone the track to the diggings.

The gravel road in, and the track up to the diggings on the left, Mt Kyeburn on the far right.

Five kilometres of chunky 4WD track at an average of twelve percent was the toughest climb I’d done in a long time. Great training and I loved it. The views back over the Maniototo Valley opened up. My tyres were a bit underdone for the terrain, better suited to gravel roads, but they mostly held on – there was only one short stretch I couldn’t ride. On such a glorious morning in peak holiday season I was not surprised a few side-by-sides, two-wheelers and other vehicles passed me.

Looking back only a little way up, the Rock and Pillar Range in the distance.

That climb taking an hour, things leveled out, more vehicles passed me and I reached the stark former gold-diggings. Barren and white, I’ve visited a few times now – so with motorbikes zipping around, I continued to Buster Hut to await my family.

I contemplated the ride up here, knowing what the ski was like.

Rather a cute little hut; waiting, I tidied the hut a little, soaked in the sun and view and took photos of my bike posing.

Only an hour and a half after leaving home, my family arrived far more shaken up, but considerably cooler, than I had been. We had a lovely lunch in front of the hut (thanks Adele for the food delivery!). The rest of the ride wasn’t going to ride itself, well nourished I set off again.

This is fairly representative of much of the remaining trail up – a bit different with no snow!

Even with plenty of photo stops, it was less than an hour more climbing as clouds rolled in and cooled things a bit.

West over Oteake Conservation Park – plenty more tracks to explore.

Looking over the Maniototo again, the track I’d come up and Buster Diggings on the right.

Climbing, climbing…

Almost there, the track I would follow down can just be seen curling away to the left at the bottom of the scree.

The long since dug diggings a more obvious scar on the tussock slopes from up here.

Bike needed another breather.

Looking over to St Mary’s Range and time to descend!

It was a steep descent, but it seemed a bulldozer had recently been up and back down – it was well graded, but still steep and rocky. Dropping nine hundred metres in only seven kilometres, my wrists and forearms would have preferred some suspension on the front of my bike. Taking a bit of a battering was at least a good excuse to stop and admire every new view as each bend served them up.

The track dropping away from me to cross the Kyeburn and meet Dansey’s Pass Road.

Glimpses of the Pacific could just be made out.

Finally down to the Kyeburn.

This crossing I couldn’t keep my feet from being anything but soaked. So why not just stand in the rushing water for a while admiring things?

I joined the gravel road and rode home, noting a small campground that might be useful next week, drawing a few stares as I rolled past the pub patrons and, for the first time, stopping at the Kyeburn cemetery absorbing the history and a rather tragic tale involving young brothers and avalanches. Turning into the wind that had warmed me all day, I slowed sufficiently to reflect on a satisfying day out up and down hills – good to be back on the bike. Once again, what an area – I look forward to more exploration in Central Otago. Thankfully, I don’t have to wait long.

around home, bikepacking, bikes, Canada, event, family, friends, MTB, NZ, shoulder, USA

The Christmas Letter 2018

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It’s that time again when I reflect on the previous year and consider what is in store for next year. It has been another great year filled with plenty of biking and also many new experiences; as happens, the good times are sometimes tempered – but with only a couple of annoying injuries keeping me inactive briefly (and missing out on two events I wanted to ride) and the loss of a bike to note, they’re not really worth focusing on.

In an attempt at a little cross-training for bikepacking, I thoroughly enjoyed the local Park Run and was surprised that it didn’t take too much effort to get my five kilometre time consistently below twenty minutes. I hope to slow my running down and work on longer distances next year. Trying to improve my swimming (/ability to drown) proved far more challenging, but just as I felt I was making decent progress my shoulder got loose again – so swimming seems out of the picture for a while.

I once again hosted many visitors to my little home in Napier. Amongst regular visits from family and friends, I’ve had a fair few cycle tourists stay (always happy to chat bikes, touring and bikepacking) and AirBnB continues to help use my spare rooms more than they would be otherwise – while contributing to house maintenance and minor upgrades and allowing me to keep repayments in check. If you’re ever around the Hawke’s Bay, get in touch and visit. I’ve also managed to travel a little this year to visit immediate family, extended family and friends; this Christmas and New Year will be spent down in Otago with family.

Here’s a more photographic account of the year:

After surprising the family for Christmas last year, I skived off for a few days of Central Otago bikepacking. It was brilliant and I’m looking forward to revisiting some of my route, and more, shortly.

Adele joined me for a memorable, fairly big, hilly and hot day on the Old Dunstan Trail.

Local bikepacking trips were fairly scarce, this one south of Havelock North sticks in the mind for the insane mud.

Further south, the Number 8 Wired route was a blinder. One easy day of gravel roads and hills.

And one tough day getting to the coast and back – significant hike-a-bike, rugged trails and battling into a warm NWer all the way home.

With a significant milestone in the Major Hazard Facility project I’ve been involved with at work being reached at the end of March, I was ready for Easter adventures. Riding the Timber Trail there and back on Good Friday was the start. Great fun, but unfortunately I hurt my knee which led me to not finish the ambitious Eastern Bay of Plenty bikepacking loop planned for the rest of the long weekend.

The hills west of Gisborne did whet the appetite with some stunning rural scenery and riding.

Just before reaching Opotiki and ending that painful (favouring my left knee led problems in my other foot and barely being able to walk for two weeks – I got better) ride, I met some other bikepackers that took me back to Rotorua and snapped this last photo of my trusty Surly.

I’d like to say I was delirious with pain and that led me to leaving my garage door open one night, but that’s not quite the case. The result was the ever-reliable bike that I’d had for five years and over twenty thousand kilometres was stolen. I have many happy memories of that bike: from my first forays into bikepacking in England, the Rift Valley Odyssey in Kenya, riding to Italy, around Kilimanjaro, one Australian trip, many local rides and the few NZ events I’ve done (Kiwi Brevet, Tour Aotearoa, and a few Geyserland Gravel Grinds). But in the end, it’s a bike and replaceable – which is just what I did, of course.

I thoroughly enjoyed the continuing Geyserland Gravel Grind series of bikepacking events based out of Rotorua again this year – I lined up for five in total. For the Mini-, Pete leant me his spare bike.

I liked it so much, I promptly test-rode and ordered the latest model. Here it is, unusually, unloaded – it’s certainly lighter than I was used to for bikepacking. I’m looking forward to just as many good trips and memories.

All ready for a few days away; having all one’s luggage stolen has an advantage in getting newer, improved gear.

Finally I made it down south for one of Adele’s birthday trips. A thoroughly enjoyable week of skiing, family, friends and beautiful Otago scenery. I finally got ski-touring with a super-fun day up and down Mt Kyeburn.

It was just as well I had a whole year’s worth of leave stored up before I went south, as near the end of that trip while enjoying one final day skiing, a bikepacking trip in Canada & NW USA was mentioned. Surprised to be invited along, I was suddenly trying to convince my boss I could have another two weeks off, booking flights, and so on.

Heading off bikepacking for two weeks on a bike I’d only ridden a hundred kilometres on, what could go wrong? Megan put together an excellent route down into Montana, across the top of Idaho, into Washington before closing the loop back in British Columbia. It was great being unexpectedly back riding bikes in North America and seeing good friends. A wonderful trip that will be remembered for trees, heat, bushfire smoke, quiet gravel roads, long climbs, some more trees, wildlife (so many eagles, not so many bears thankfully), wild berries, trees and many food items.

The first big climb in Montana.

Avoiding wildfires was a regular consideration.

The fire reroute turned out golden – with another long downhill.

Back home, I had just enough leave later that month to head off to New Plymouth to see Adele, James, Jacqui and Dan. Someone thought I should climb this mountain; which meant learning to use an ice axe and crampons.

We made it above the cloud, I climbed a mountain! That excitement was only tempered by the descent hammering my quads and being reduced to a hobble for the following week.

The Classic Geyserland Gravel Grind was a nostalgic trip back to the Bay of Plenty and many places I went while growing up nearby and on my first bike tours.

Labour Weekend was set aside to finish the Eastern loop I’d bailed on at Easter, with an extra diversion to and from childhood home of Te Puke – another ripping good long weekend exploring different bits of New Zealand. Riding over 700 km in four days didn’t seem that onerous, and with two big rides planned for November I was well on track to reach my stretch target for the year.

I was particularly looking forward to the Hunt 1000 (Canberra to Melbourne – ruggedly up, down and along the Snowy Mountains) – having followed the 2017 edition and being captivated by the scenery and remoteness of the terrain. Alas, that was not to be as I found a new and creative way to dislocate my shoulder again. So the last six weeks have been pretty quiet, but I’m back on the bike and thinking of next year…

There’s already a South Island event booked, I expect there will be an Australian one too as I still have the Hunt 1000 flight credit to use, and there are still plenty of places close to home that I need to explore. Further surgery, and six months of rehab, on my shoulder is a possibility, but until I have an MRI it’s not worth considering too much.

Merry Christmas and a happy New Year to all.