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bikepacking, bikes, friends, GPS, NZ

ACAL Day One – Kurow to Lindis River campsite

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So excited by the chance to go on Andy’s Conservation Area Loop (what I’m calling it anyway) was I, that I cut short New Year’s riding to return home and prepare for it. Aiming to string together a number of parks and their tops using farm tracks to that have only relatively recently become accessible sounded a grand idea to me – this plan had been fermenting in Andy’s mind for a while. What’s more, the forecast steadily improved in the week before. We had five days to ride the 300+ kilometre route; knowing little of the country, except that it would be very hilly, four days seemed likely for a good touring, definitely not race, pace.

A big breakfast in a Kurow cabin and a civil seven-thirty start and we were away up the Alps2Ocean. I’d not ridden the longest cycle trail in the country in its entirety for many years, so was pleased to find that a lot of more of it has been taken off the Waitaki Valley highway. It was still early and warming well, we wondered if we’d gotten things completely wrong watching the pleasure boats on the hyrdo dams.

Across Lake Benmore from the dam remembering previous trips on that lumpy pylon access road.

Across the dam and there’s now a trail up there, instead of going through Otematata down at valley floor level.

Looking over Otematata Station to the Hawkduns brought back memories of stinking hot days climbing up there less than a year ago on the first Tour Te Waipounamu. Comparisons to and memories of our respective TTW races would be a regular topic, such was its significance in our bikepacking lives.

I was thrilled that this new section of A2O took us high above the lake to give views of parts I’d not seen before.

There was some steady climbing, but equally fun downhills, and the section to Sailors Cutting provided a good warm-up. It’s a popular trail and there were plenty of riders to greet as they rode the, preferred, opposite direction. I think it’s just as good as the more-hyped Lake Dunstan Trail – the views are less confined, and there’s no highway noise for starters.

Still surprised at just how green this normally barren area is looking this summer.

The standard big meal at Wrinkly Rams consumed, we were soon out into the afternoon for a hour of gradual highway climbing towards Lindis Pass. Holiday traffic wasn’t too bad, none of the big rigs I’m used too. We continued up the Ahuriri valley as the highway turned towards the pass.

Almost another hour up the wide valley, getting closer to the access easement.

Andy’s photo.

Stunner, hot afternoon.

We were advised to cross the Avon Burn as soon as possible and stick to the farm track, much easier going than the nearby poled route.

The track soon left the stream with some steep pinch climbs.

As we got into the hills, we constantly pondered just which track we would soon be ascending. Andy’s photo.

We found this sweet, old private hut just before the long push began.

Available to stay in for a small fee, it was a beaut. Around four o’clock, most of us were tempted to call it a day there. But we’d not even managed a hundred kilometres, and little climbing – it was well too early to waste such kind, calm conditions. There began two hours of mostly walking through six hundred metres of ascent. All on reasonable double-track, the pushing was easy enough – that is, wheels rolled and there was no carrying.

Looking up to the big switchback, that was almost halfway up the total climb.

The views changed constantly and they were staggering. Spotting all the similar tracks dozed across and up other hills was a favourite – I want to explore them all!

Back down Avon Burn, the hut near those yards.

I’d been a bit nervous about recent medical things, so forwent a comfortable tent for a bivy bag and a stove for dry, cold meals (the forecast was good) to save a bit of weight – this helped to keep my bike moving a little faster. Rachel and I both left backpacks behind, but both found adequate solutions to strapping our front packs to our back to lighten bikes further for prolonged pushes.

Looking south before switching back and crossing that face two pictures above.

Running out of words for a while.

I can see at least eight tracks there I want to explore!

Into Otago now and the start of the Lindis River, we’d be down there soon enough.

Waiting a bit, scoping out more tracks.

The trail changed for the last few kilometres to the summit, with a little dip around the corner to climb out of.

It was so unbelievably still at the top of the Melina Ridge track, I was more than happy to linger waiting for Andy and Rachel – soaking in the views all around and scheming further adventures now that my eyes helped me to grasp the possibilities that a friend had mentioned on my arrival to Otago.

Tough place for fenceposts.

Eventually we were able to draw ourselves away from the views and set off down.

Through the gate into our first conservation area, I was not stopping on the downhill that presented itself.

Screaming down through a five hundred metre drop in ten minutes of big switchbacks and plenty of bouncing around on my loaded, rigid bike was oh so much fun. So much fun that I have no photos. I’d apologise, but it was completely worth it! Much possibility to come back with a trail bike (not far off now, new one is in the country).

More waiting (eight minutes, which is not bad considering how much more media the others got) gave the chance to top up bottles at the creek and sit on a big rock in the sun looking down the valley.

Another climb from that stream did at least give a good view of the bottom part of the descent. One can see the Mt Melina track, that left the ridge track at its highpoint.

Now down in the Lindis valley floor and past the turn off to Mt Prospect (another riding possibility), nearing a twelve hour day, with the sublime Melina Ridge in there, seemed a reasonable time to look for a nice campsite before getting too close to the highway. We found a sheltered one on some river flats near a tributary that we would turn up the next day and set ourselves up for the night. What a fantastic day of brilliant weather, amazing new views, great company and excellent riding – the pushing wasn’t even that bad either.

bikepacking, bikes, GPS, NZ

Thomsons Gorge to ride Lake Dunstan Trail finally

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Somehow involved in the planning for a group to ride the GSB21 route (mosty), it seemed rude not to make an appearance as I was in the area. An addition to the route was the new Lake Dunstan Trail – which I’d not managed to ride in the six months since it had opened – so that was the obvious part to tag along on. The Knobby Range shortly after was my favourite part of GSB21, I’d ride that too and then rush back to next venesection.

Rail trail to the end would have been too monotonous, so after a nice fifty kilometre warm-up in cool summer conditions, and a big first-lunch in Omakau, I struck north for Thomsons Gorge.

Out of Oturehua on the Otago Central Rail Trail.

Having remembered the wind and heat of previous rides through here, I was unsure how I’d do in my current lower-fitness state. Especially up the steep first pitch – I thought there would be some walking involved. There began a curious internal monologue as the climbing began – one voice telling me that I was ill, walked last time and would be walking soon; the other voice just getting me to pedal a little bit further. Before I knew it, the steep section was completed – on the bike (except for opening and closing some of the twenty-two gates).

Starting the climb, over the Manuherikia Valley to the Raggedy Range.

I love riding through this gorge for the challenge (usually in the form of crazy wind, and not insubstantial heat) and the views. This day was the most benign I’d ever had the conditions – not that hot, patchy sun, occasional cloud cover and not a breath of wind. It made a nice change from being blown off my bike, which is more usual.

For once I had the time and inclination to make the small detour and check out this wee old hut. A pleasant spot for second-lunch.

Thomsons Saddle.

Headwaters of Thomsons Creek, the stone hut just around the corner.

One day, hopefully soon, I’ll go up there. Now I’m in the area, there are many little side trips to be found and explored.

Knowing I’d be well early to the Cromwell rendezvous, I took the opportunity to check out some of the mining relics. All those times I’d ridden down that hill and I had no idea there was a sizeable mineshaft stretching under the road – I didn’t have to stoop that much as it went deeper into the hillside.

The restored Come In Time Battery.

Over the Lindis River.

An easy twenty-odd kilometres into Cromwell along the highway was not too unpleasant with traffic only of the holiday and multi-sport varieties, nothing heavy – makes a nice change from logging trucks. Hours early, I rode around the outskirts, popped out to Bannockburn and had first-dinner waiting for the group to arrive. Their arrival prompted many stories of the trail, and second-dinner.

A big breakfast done and it was a leisurely start after seven the next day. Cutting across to the road out to Bannockburn, soon over the Kawarau arm of Lake Dunstan and onto trail new to me. It’s an easy trail, and would be fast – but for its popularity. Even at that time of the morning, there were plenty of people out enjoying it. The engineering along the edge where the Cairnmuirs now suddenly drop into the hydroelectric lake is an incredible feat on an excellent trail that links Clyde and Cromwell without using the highway or the big, steep Hawksburn Road climb. The platforms bolted on to and cantilevered out from the cliff edge are most notable, but there are sizeable bridges too.

Heading to Cornish Point.

There’s the occasional climb, but nothing significant on a loaded bike.

Most memorable event of the trail was courtesy of a large merino ram. Thankfully we came across it while on a moderate downhill. Four of us got past it chased, but unscathed. Tom, however, stopped further up the trail to watch the happenings. The territorial ram noticed and trotted up the track. His bike between him and the ram, repeated charges and bunting were not completely avoided. If it wasn’t so comical, we may have been more concerned. With no bears, moose, snakes, and cougars I guess we have to make do with temperamental rams. Mirth contained enough, I eventually ventured back up the trail a bit to try and provide enough distraction for Tom to get on his bike. My help was not needed as he finally got away unscathed – physically at least, time will tell about mental scars. Unfortunately the front wheel and brake disc were not so lucky, requiring some attention at the next bike shop.

As well as the scenery, which was probably not helped by the gloomy day, I enjoyed having the time to read all the signs detailing history and engineering in the area.

Out at the Clyde Rowing Club, I was most surprised when one of runners we chatted to ended up being Steve, a guy I happened to ride most of the last day of my Tour Aotearoa with six years earlier! I always wondered what happened to him after he rode off into the crazy headwind that left me struggling for eighty minutes to move eight kilometres alongside a flat highway. Curiosity satisfied.

That was a fun ride, I look forward to doing it again in clearer weather and maybe off-season (if it has one). The day warmed as we rode the twelve or so shaded kilometres into Alexandra. I found a burst of energy and didn’t stop until the end – there having to wait quite some time before rolling into town for a large early lunch, and for Tom to get his wheel fixed. Somewhere along the way, others had had enough of hills and quit on the Knobby Range plan – opting for Clutha Gold and a ridiculously expensive jet boat ride instead. Ditching the best bit of the GSB course for a disjointed, low trail held no appeal, especially when it’d be even more of an effort to make my venesection appointment on time – I said my goodbyes and cruised the ninety kilometres back home on the rail trail.

Saying goodbyes.

Actually stopping to read the interesting displays at Lauder.

Nice to get out and stretch the legs for a couple of days, ride a new trail, enjoy the company of other riders and take a bit more time absorbing some of the history of the area.

around home, bikepacking, bikes, event, family, friends, running

Christmas Letter 2021

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Another pandemic-dominated year almost done, which save for three weeks of lockdown at the end of winter, had – compared to many parts of the world – mercifully little impact on the small part I inhabit. It did at least serve as a regular reminder to make the most of opportunities, as one never really knows when they may disappear. On a personal note, I seemed to have taken an unexpected, sometimes trying, route to get to where I planned to be in some years time. That is, resigning from a good job, selling my house in Napier and moving south to Otago to be closer to family.

Entering the new year with my arm in a sling, yet again, more surgery on my shoulder seemed a possibility. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to ride the two bikepacking events of the summer. But the shoulder settled and I enjoyed going a bit slower on the excellent Great Southern Brevet as a test of my capability to tackle Tour Te Waipounamu two weeks later. As good as the GSB was, being flown to and from Tekapo by Guy in his Cessna rates as one of the biggest highlights of the year. The light plane travel and views it afforded of the country were endlessly fascinating.

A bit of aerial Tour Te Waipounamu scouting.

The relaxed pace of what was last-ditch effort of TTW preparation made for a very social ride – with much time spent with, both, other riders, and visiting friends and family en route. Most enjoyable and nowhere near as challenging as the 2019 edition, with its traverses of mountain ranges in gale force winds.

The late evening climb to the Garston Ski Hut bordered on majestical.

The following morning wasn’t too shabby either.

Knobby Range was one of the few parts of the course new to me, and with a lovely morning (before the cruel southerly change) to enjoy it – one of my favourite parts.

The two weeks before Tour Te Waipounamu were a blur of GSB recovery, last minute preparation, work, little sleep and much writing. I kept telling myself that being underdone physically in preparing for what I expected to be the toughest bikepacking event I’d attempted was a good idea – although I was sceptical. In its first year, fifty riders were selected to race from the top to bottom of the South Island – with much of the course going through private land in the high country. There would be much pushing and carrying of bikes through the middle section – not exactly my forte.

It went as well as I could have hoped – I saw so much new country and many tremendous sights, the weather was exceedingly kind, the course provided the challenge I expected and I was able to finish a couple of days faster than planned. Sure, I could have gone a bit faster – but would have involved more night-riding, which I’m seldom keen to sacrifice seeing things for. There’s a comprehensive film of the race, which naturally I think is worth the fee.

Photo from hikebikecake.com

After averaging 200 km/day for the first two, the third of moving all day only netted sixty-four. A bit of a shock with all the pushing and carrying, but we made it over the toughest part of the course – the mostly-trackless Dampier Range.

A glorious warm evening pushing solo through the expanses of Mesopotamia Station was the stand-out moment of the race for me. Perhaps helped by having studied this area from the air three weeks before.

Another sixty-odd kilometre day involved much more rocky pushing and carrying to the high point of the course.

Things didn’t let up from there, with two hot and dry days into the heart of Otago.

A beautiful start to the last, and interestingly, easiest day of riding.

Made it! Well pleased with that week and completing the inaugural event.

Starting with a dislocated shoulder, I was thrilled how the first few months played out – it took some time to come off those highs. This was useful as I was already starting to wonder how I was going to make it through another year or so of process safety engineering – having recently realised my house had increased in value so much over five years (bonkers, disturbingly and ultimately bad news for NZ), that I’d be where I wanted to be financially five years earlier than expected. Unusually for me, around this time a relationship suddenly flourished and showed potential. Alas, I was mistaken and it ended as inexplicably as it began, taking a fair bit of dealing with.

Into and through winter was tough as I quickly realised just how unchallenged and disengaged I’d become at work, most unexpected from both my normal working self and a role that had challenged me for over five years. Energy levels were low and I struggled to get motivated to get out and about exploring in my usual way out of work – let alone working well. Maybe it was the lack of sleep – which had started with trying to sleep with an arm in a sling again. Something was wrong, but I no idea what was cause and what was effect. Stumbling over this article, at work unsurprisingly, ticked so many boxes it wasn’t funny – who knew boreout is even a thing? How did I get there?! Most things has always been interesting to me on some level…

About the only thing that was going well through this time, counter-intuitively, was running. Still regularly turning up at the local parkrun (free timed 5 km run around a local park every Saturday morning), I had a staggering run of personal bests. I’d not come remotely close to my PB of just over nineteen minutes in eighteen months. Perhaps with a bit more conditioning from TTW and a small foray into trail running (finally), five PBs over seven parkruns both surprised and pleased me no end. Almost a minute off and down close to eighteen minutes (didn’t quite make it before lockdown… parkrun has still not restarted) was astonishing.

Having on a whim signed up for a very hilly, mid-winter Central Otago trail half-marathon was the motivation to spend a bit more time running in the local hills. One of my few minor regrets from six years in Hawke’s Bay is not having spent more time running and hiking in the Kawekas – much more to explore there when I make it back. It was good to get out there a bit for some training. The race went unexpectedly well, keeping a fair pace for the first eighteen kilometres – but fading in the last five when going downhill was slowed markedly to something of a hobble. Still, forty-five minutes faster than hoped and in some good company. A long weekend with the family and taking the balance bike I’d overhauled and resprayed bright green for my nephew were added bonuses of that trip.

Still not feeling myself, despite some excellent support, I finally went to the doctor with something non-shoulder related – can’t remember the last time, another thing to be grateful for – and a long list of rather vague complaints. Blood test results later and the first steps to an eventual haemochromatosis diagnosis were made (I’ll try not to go on, having mentioned it previously). Having not heard of it – either in my family, or indeed, at all – it was surprising, and also confronting. At least there was some reason many of my vague symptoms, there seems to be no organ damage so far and treatment is straightforward – even if it means getting used to regular insertion of needles larger than I’d prefer. The venesection took a frustratingly long time to get started, considering how simple it is, but once underway my iron levels have dropped nicely to be only just above what is normal – still some way to go to get them to the low side of normal, but some improvement in symptoms is apparent.

Unfortunately I didn’t have the inspiration, energy or motivation to run a Hawke’s Bay Anniversary Tour this year. Pleasingly Andrew managed to organise access through a lot of private farmland to realise his long-held desire to ride from Napier to Wellington following the coast. I was fortunate to ride on two of the trips which showed me a lot of the lower North Island shore that I’d have never seen otherwise.

Work eventually became untenable with the disengagement and iron-overload fatigue, so I resigned, served out a three-month notice period, sold my house (going to market the morning the country suddenly goes into lockdown not recommended) and prepared to move south to spend the summer with family – plenty of big changes for all approaching, so it made sense to be around while also having a bit of a break. The last two months in Hawke’s Bay were spent with various trips to say goodbye to people in the central North Island, plenty of small adventures (I was pleased to finally paddle down the Whanganui River, that quintessential NZ trip) – including some local favourites, selling or packing belongings, ordering a new mountain bike and unfortunately retiring the old one early, one bikepacking event, much blood-letting (actual) and final goodbyes.

Finally skiing in the North Island – first day of not-working.

Some favourite local gravel roads and hills.

Absolute favourite Hawke’s Bay viewpoint with a great crew to share it with.

Down the Whanganui.

The Renegades Muster was a fabulous inaugural bikepacking event in the Whanganui and Taranaki regions.

After two weeks driving south with plenty of visits to extended family and close friends, and small running/biking/hiking outings, I’m pleased to be down south with my family for Christmas and into the New Year. This year certainly has been one of much change for me, unfortunately a bit light on the bike with the bike-commute ending – only 9000 km, but I’ve enjoyed the extra running I’ve done – 500 km my biggest year yet, just. As for next year, who knows? Surely it can’t have as many big changes as this year; but just what it will hold is both exciting and daunting in the opportunities that may present and be taken. Hopefully the energy for more adventures and new sights…

Best wishes to all, thanks to all that have been along for the ride (literal and figurative) and offered support along the way.  Well done if you’ve managed to read so much of my writing – thank you.

bikepacking, bikes, friends, NZ, roadtrip, running, travel

Migration south for summer

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Car loaded with the rest of my possessions that weren’t on a truck somewhere , I had a vague plan of seeing plenty of friends and family on the way south over a few weeks – with hopefully some time outdoors. Apart from that, I just had to make sure I was in Otago for an early family Christmas; not missing too many weekly venesections would be good too.

Mostly successful, I had an enjoyable couple of weeks catching up with many, seeing new places and some memorable meals – even if the weather didn’t always play nice. Patches of sun were few and far between in Wellington, but it was still easy enough to walk around exploring the city when I couldn’t summon the energy to get out riding or running.

Riding around the bays east of the city was a pleasant, if blowy, afternoon.

Some inadvertent hike-a-bike to get here.

Evening run up Mt Vic.

Actually got warm on this big walk – but perhaps because I was dressed for the previous weather, which I don’t have photos of.

I did get a cracking day for a delayed sailing across Cook Strait, and then had a lovely quiet drive down to Hokitika – where I caught up with the rain, three fairly solid days of it. But there was still plenty of biking, walking and jogging in the bush to be done. Only having ridden the West Coast Wilderness Trail way back in 2016 on Tour Aotearoa, and getting thoroughly soaked – I had been hoping to see it on a drier day. Alas, that will have to wait for another time – water being our constant companion for a fun afternoon ride on part of the trail.

Some shelter for a late lunch.

The following day proved even wetter, but out in the rain for a Mahinapua jog proved quite pleasant.

Sunday we managed a couple of hours walking through dense, lush and unsurprisingly green bush before the heavens broke for the last ten minutes or so. Weekend over and the weather did improve – I was pleased to be able to wait it out, as I was able on last year’s West Coast trip. Unusually windy, I was told, it was mercifully dry as we got up on the tops of the Kelly Range.

Towards Otira.

Plenty of Mt Cook lilies out.

Yup, blowing a gale up here.

Down the Taramakau valley to the Tasman.

I enjoyed getting up a bit higher and gaining more of an idea of the lay of some of the land.

Conveniently skipping the first afternoon and the big hike-a-bike section of Nina’s Tour Te Waipounamu training ride, I joined at Blackball for a cruisy and pleasant overnighter. It only rained for the first couple of hours, which was far better than expected on the wet drive north.

Some deserted forestry roads gave few views, save this one.

A strange collection of long-abandoned short lengths of wood.

Across Lake Brunner from Moana – tasty late-lunch stop.

The afternoon’s gravel riding, particularly around Bell Hill, was excellent – as was the easy ride down the valley to lovely Nelson Creek.

With route options aplenty but no firm decisions, I may have (foolishly?) mentioned I like a bit of creek riding – as per Waiuta-Big River. Access through a farm arranged, with handy pointers, we were off for Napoleon Hill.

Through the farm, heading for the beech forest.

A four-wheel drive track provided a suitable, but surmountable, challenge on loaded bikes before it plateaued across the top with plenty of big puddles – thankfully firm bases.

The descent to Nobles Creek got a lot chunkier, I had much fun bouncing down it.

Before long the track was the creek bed and it was excellent – the highlight of the trip for me. I was pleased that it was basically all rideable (the odd dab as rocks proved adept at enforcing sudden changes of direction) and, despite riding down a creek for kilometres, my feet stayed relatively dry until its volume had swollen somewhat when it joined the next creek.

The first of three tunnels – thankfully there was a bypass.

This one far more conducive to riding through.

Finding our way out through more farmland, we were soon whizzing down to the Grey Valley again before lunch in Ikamatua and the last section of seal south towards Blackball. Looking across the valley we could spot the hill we’d just climbed – the bicorne shape obvious. At Atarau we turned north and climbed to Anderson’s Flat – where, after another lovely section through native forest, we were pleased to see Nina’s truck where she’d left it. Much fun on that wee overnighter and it was interesting to take the longer route back to drive through some of the area we’d just ridden and see it from a different perspective.

Thursday and my time on the Coast drew to an end with one last run around the Kaniere Water Race (fascinating following it through the bush) and a tasty Hokitika Sandwich – reputation deserved. With little (/no) tourist traffic around, I’d decided it was a good time to drive down the coast (also first visit since that wet section on TA16) and stay a couple of nights near Wanaka – more people to visit and biking to be done.

I had a few stops on the way down to go for short walks, well worth breaking the drive up.

In Hawea in good time that evening, I was promptly lent a bike and was out exploring some rather hidden, and more technical than I’m currently used to, trails. Over-preparing perhaps for Friday at the relatively new MTB park at Glendhu.

Climbing to the high point over an hour, I enjoyed passing and staying ahead of e-bikes – but was beginning to wonder if the entry fee was worth it for what is still a developing trail network. Admittedly, the views alone were almost worth it.

No sooner had I pointed my bike downhill, I found fast, flowy trails – so, much, fun! I particularly enjoyed one with a few more natural, rock features. After a couple of hours, I headed down to the base for lunch and a nap on a shaded beanbag as the day warmed and the wind increased. Recharged a little, I was able to get back up the hill for more fun. Excellent – can’t wait to get back there with some riding buddies.

Having timed the Glendhu riding well, Saturday was fairly bleak – perfect for many more catch-ups and excessive amounts of food. In the end, it was only two weeks of much visiting and fun outside before I made it down to family. Great to make it and see them after six months filled with all sorts of changes! Thankfully I was able to book a venesection soon after, as the iron overload fatigue seems to be returning – although, who can really say what other factors may be at play?