Category Archives: friends

bikepacking, bikes, friends, NZ

Riversdale to Flat Point

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Winter over and with the excellent previous leg of Andrew’s attempt to ride from Napier to Wellington as close to the coast as possible in mind, I selfishly encouraged organisation of the next, and final, leg – wanting to ride it before leaving Hawke’s Bay. In an achievement I’m somewhat in awe of, Andrew convinced twelve different farmers to generously allow us access through their land (including offers of accommodation and meals), arranged transport to and from each end, rustled up catering, and organised nine riders.

Just a short leg, that which we didn’t quite ride last time, to start on Friday afternoon – down the beach a bit, some gravel, a couple of hilly farms before dropping back to the coast and some more gravel. Three hours, plenty of stops and thirty-odd kilometres was a good little intro to the weekend.

Andrew leading us south from Riversdale beach.

I’ll take this for a Friday afternoon.

A little bit of dune riding and pushing when the coast became impassable.

With the tide ebbing, the sand was mostly firm enough to ride – but not always.

Leaving the coast at Uruti Point, we struck inland ever so slightly.

A brief pause to regroup and determine how far to the first farm entrance.

The farmer met us on the road and made sure we were going the right way. Introductions and chat all around, in which Andrew realised he may have oversold our farming credentials – apart from him (formerly), not a farmer amongst us.

Into the first farm; thanks to Andrew’s hard work we could guiltlessly ignore variations of signs like these all down the coast.

Our escort just before leaving us – the route through to the next farm having just been explained.

A fast drop to the Kaiwhata River blew some cobwebs out before a little valley floor riding and a good steep climb to the boundary gate.

Soggy! Very fortunate with the weather as most of the week had been wet and cold; for the most part, things had dried out nicely and peanut butter mud had gone.

Another stiff climb was rutted in places and did still have some boggy patches, a little bit of walking amongst the grunt to the top. Views up and down the coast as we skirted the end of the airstrip, topped out for the last time that day and bombed back down to sea level.

Exiting at the farm at the buildings, all manner of machinery had to be negotiated – this about the smallest of it.

Pausing to meet the farmer and his workers, they were chatty as were having Friday afternoon beers around a quad bike.

Somehow we came away with a bag of lambs’ tails (whether that’s good or poor timing with docking…) for the townies’ culinary education.

Twenty minutes down the coast to the shearers’ quarters and our digs for the night.

Soon, an old bed frame was found, a fire roaring and the lambs’ tails set to cook.

Loo with a view.

This didn’t get fired up.

While Fergus cooked up a storm inside, the tails disappeared. Having mostly removed the charred exterior, I’m not sold – slimy, yet boney and crunchy. Sharing a large meal on the old door of a table and forms, reflecting on the introduction to the weekend’s riding and speculating as to what was to come was far more convivial.

bikes, friends, NZ, running

Kaimai Exploring

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Growing up nearby, the Kaimai Ranges were for driving over to visit grandparents and other family in Auckland. I remember only one family day walk up a slippery, wet and boggy Thompsons Track. Brief visits to Waihi at the northern end of the forest park over the last twenty years gave only one little ride from Waitawheta. This last-for-a-while visit stretching to two nights, I had a day to start rectifying past neglect of what are some excellent hills to explore.

First, a short trail run looping through Daly’s Clearing. The parking lot was surprisingly full, obviously a more popular spot than I imagined. A brief farm section before the trail started on the old Waitawheta Tramway – correspondingly well-graded, there was clearly more mining history here than I was aware of.

Branching off west, I left the valley floor behind as the trail climbed through bush to the clearing.

Even so, I’m unsure these shallow steps were necessary.

Somewhat startled by the hut, I poked my nose in briefly.

Continuing, the trail climbed a little more. I was taken aback by the extent of the nikau palms proliferating. There were also plenty of big ponga ferns, but that was less unexpected.

The roots kept one alert.

Descending through a couple of paddocks, the river came back into view.

A fun hour of running somewhere new to me – easily teasing plenty more adventures to be had when I make it back with more time up my sleeve.

Another landmark I’d not been to in the area was Mt Te Aroha – despite it having been recommended a number of times as a good climb. Most recently, riding cycle trails from Waihi to the base of the hill, climbing and then descending, before riding back was recommended. Plugging that in online, it looked over a hundred kilometres – mostly flat cycle trail with the exception of a 900 metre climb and then descent. It seemed a bit outside my current level of endurance, but no harm in trying. Right?

Through the gorge was pleasant enough, even riding into the westerly. Plenty more memories of driving through the Karangahake Gorge many years ago, and occasionally stopping to walk through the tunnel – it wasn’t lit then!

A large late lunch in Paeroa would hopefully fuel me to and up the climb. Nice to be off the road, but this section of rail trail is not particularly inspiring. Definitely a means to an end, and more memories – this time my first big day on Tour Aotearoa some years ago now.

Getting closer.

The climb starts steeply, and only lets up occasionally. I think it must be the biggest single one I’ve done in over three years. The whole thing over 12.5 % gradient, plenty more in places. Under-geared and tyre undershod, I was pleased not to end up walking any of it. The cold breeze near the top was quite welcome.

The transmitter is so large, it messed with one’s distance perception – looking so close here, but still only halfway up.

Occasionally a glimpse of the Hauraki Plains through the bush cover.

Ah yes, it’s quite big.

Made it, phew. Time to layer up and admire the views.

Even on an overcast day, the views of so many familiar places were grand and endlessly fascinating.

Mayor Island

Back down the road a mile, I eventually found the overgrown track off the east side at Dog Kennel Flat. The track surface was in good condition, not that one could see much of it. A bit of bike carrying was needed on steeper or more overgrown sections, but there was little hardship amongst nice foliage.

Yes, there’s a trail behind me.

Bike disappearing into more trail.

All worth it.

Heading into the Waiorongomai Valley, I picked up another old tramway after a steep section (solo, with no beacon, my riding was even more conservative than normal). Plenty of signs of gold mining up here provided more interest to the lovely park.

A smaller tunnel this one.

Again, a bridge straight into a tunnel.

Follow the tramway…

I was surprised to find three sizeable inclines up this little valley.

Steep! Which is rather the point of such sections of track.

Some care had to be taken following the rails.

The final section of trail, Cadman’s, to the road end was a complete blast and showed the bike I had for the day wasn’t completely inappropriate.

Back to more typical Waikato scenes.

A few kilometres back into Te Aroha and I was completely done, with only forty left to get back to the car. But a decent fish burger and sides later, there was plenty of energy to get me home just on dark.

A satisfying day out on just the edge of the Kaimais, I look forward to returning with more of a plan some day.

around home, bikepacking, bikes, friends, NZ, snow

Not-Working Central North Island Fun

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Not working full-time started with a flurry of activity over two weeks. Leaving Pan Pac after six years, that fitted in with the main motivation for resigning – having far more time to be outside and spend with family and friends.

Things kicked off immediately with finally, after vague mention over years, a day skiing at Ruapehu with very-recently former-workmate James. A couple of years since I’d been on skis, it was thoroughly enjoyable to be out on the snow. With a decent dump earlier in the week, the snow and skiing was good. A wee bit rusty, I was pleased not to fall – nor pop a shoulder, a near thing when an errant t-bar sprang back and caught my supposed good arm and put me all in a tangle.

Above the clouds most of the day, it got uncomfortably warm early afternoon. We called it a day early as cloud rolled in and visibility was soon gone.

Bit of a rush back to Hawke’s Bay to arrive on time to finally see the much-Covid-postponed presentation by Mark and Hana of their four-year bikepacking trip from Alaska to Patagonia. While I was familiar with the adventure from following them online, hearing the stories firsthand and seeing the photos on a cinema screen gave a much greater appreciation of their travels. While the photos look impressive on my laptop (a good selection in this article), they were phenomenal with a 4K projector – quite astounding. Excellent evening, thanks to Hana and Mark for travelling up and Andrew for persevering with organising.

There wasn’t enough time to show our guests some Hawke’s Bay bikepacking, but Ricko did manage a great morning tour of Havelock North, Te Mata Peak and surrounds on mountain bikes.

Some of us did find time for a hastily organised and short overnighter to Waipatiki Beach just north of Napier. Even taking the long way around on one of my favourite local gravel roads, it’s only three hours there. Plenty of time to appreciate the evening light, cook dinner and natter before dossing down in the “closed” (Covid?) lounge.

A quick trip over the stream to the beach on leaving the campground.

Brent and Pete negotiating the only place I know to reliably find mud in Hawke’s Bay – on the old bridle path to Aropaoanui Rd.

Heading into the strange sun-mist mix that soon burnt off.

In no time we were back in town for morning tea and coffee with more of the usual HB bikepacking cohort. That may have been a sub-twenty hour overnighter – still brilliant but.

After a day of doing some of the more boring things I should be doing packing up a house, I headed over to Taupo (finally) for a few days of mountain-bike exploring and staying with friends Debbie and Emma. An overcast afternoon on a soggy W2K trail soon brightened and I enjoyed the out-and-back as the views improved. I was taken aback to be recognised as I was hosing off my filthy bike, nice to bump into and catch up with Brian (Wellington) from this year’s GSB.

Joining a different Tuesday night run group gave a nice change of scene, but I’m unsure my legs were impressed with doing intervals. Wednesday held a “recovery” ride with Emma and Debbie at Craters. Trails had dried out by then and it soon became apparent that it wasn’t recovery pace. Much fun riding further out in the park than I had previously, especially on the long relatively gentle downhill Megalicious – plenty of easy jumps that even I could land properly.

Timing of the Taupo sojourn was dictated by the eventual screening (more Covid postponements) of South – the Tour Te Waipounamu film. While I’d shown this excellent account of the race (mine here, not so excellent) to a few groups of friends earlier in the year, I was eagerly awaiting seeing it on a big screen – plus I’d also offered to join Pete for the Q&A session following each screening. It did not disappoint and it was interesting to hear the reactions of a wider audience; we got some good questions too, and hopefully added to the evening.

Somewhere in there, a plan was hatched for me to join Pete and Fay on the first night of three training for next year’s TTW. Bikepacking hadn’t figured in my hasty packing for this week away, but with the generosity of friends just enough gear was cobbled together and affixed to my bike.

Well, this is different. First time using a Freeload rack, I rate it with rear suspension.

From the Waihaha Rd end, Pete and I rode into Waihaha Hut over a couple of hours. The drizzle lessened soon after setting off and that was the end of wearing a jacket for the trip.

Not a promising start and I wondered if my little car would make it up the hill and out of the wet paddock.

Views of the lake lacking a bit.

Tieke Falls on the Waihaha River.

The trail was soaked, but with a firm base the riding was not difficult. Once the rain had stopped, it was nice to take our time stopping often at viewpoints and with much chat along the way. Crossing the road, the modest ascent to the hut began – including a bit of pushing on a section that was just a bit wet, rutted and technical for a loaded bike with a balding rear tyre (Taupo certainly showed that tyres that are fine in dry Hawke’s Bay are not so elsewhere).

These bridges are so much easier when there’s a wooden deck!

Flattening out a bit, great riding through the native bush.

Waihaha Hut – finally made it after fourteen or so years thinking I must ride there one day.

Shortly after arriving dry at the hut, it started tipping down. This about the time Fay was setting off from the carpark – she arrived fairly soaked. A pleasant hut evening catching up and discussing TTW preparations and Fay’s upcoming event. The rain didn’t let up overnight, but had by the time I set off for the car – leaving the others to their all-day hike-a-bike training. The return only took a couple of hours, and with a bit more visibility, I stopped to look at different things.

A bit more water around.

Some more of the lake today.

Back at the car, I ditched my overnight gear and, as the sky cleared, set off north to the end of the trail at a landing on Waihora Bay. With a lighter bike and the trail surface muddy (firm volcanic base still underneath), I had a grand time sliding around corners, getting soaked from the regular splashes and seeing what was around the next corner. Crossing an impressive slot canyon, it was tight and twisty down to the lake for a brief snack – the return wasn’t as difficultly steep as feared.

Legs of two halves.

Back into town to clean-up, pack and say farewell it was then off to Rotorua for a weekend of much time with close friends and a little bit of riding. It’s a little odd, considering how good and plentiful it is, that riding was very much the secondary consideration there. As always, there was a new trail to try; this time Roger showed me Te Poaka – another long downhill with plenty of fun to be had on small jumps. I can see it would be easy to get up well too much speed, even at my pace some of the trees were getting alarmingly close.

Some recent felling has really opened up the Lake Rotorua view from this part of the Forest Loop.

Tarawera – still up there as a most-special place for me.

More riding (so many kids!) and a fork bought for next-bike Sunday morning, the trip down memory lane was strong then catching up with more former Pan Pac workmates over in Papamoa.

Twas not a bad place to grow up.

bikes, friends, MTB, national park, NZ

Classic Ruapehu District rides

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Getting wind of Anton’s planned weekend away mountain biking some classic trails near Ruapehu, it wasn’t long before I’d signed up/invited myself along. It had been a very long time since I’d been on a mountain biking weekend away, but I was keen to ride some of these trails relatively unloaded and on a squishy bike for a change.

First up, thirteen of us piled into the shuttle to the start of the Bridge to Nowhere trail on a misty and wet morning. Thankfully the heavy rain overnight had ceased. In hindsight, there was plenty of time to have ridden the thirty-four kilometres from Raetihi to the trailhead and I’d have enjoyed that more than a stuffy bus – but I was trying to be at least a little social and fit in, already feeling like a curiosity for not carrying a pack, having small bags strapped to my bike and generally enthusing too much about riding far on a loaded bike.

This is different.

First up, an easy climb for half an hour; the surface was pleasingly good.

Sitting around 600 m altitude for a while, we passed the Kaiwhakauka junction – from here on, I’d ridden on the Tour Aotearoa five years before. This time I was not nearly as tired, or contemplating such a big day. At the Mangapurua Trig after an hour, it was all downhill more or less to the river.

The quarter of an hour dropping four hundred metres to the stream was the best riding of the weekend for me. Chasing and then leading Dan (a fellow ex-NZ Steel graduate who I’d not seen for over twelve years) down the slippery (papa mud is notorious) double track at speed just on the right side of control was excellent. Being much slighter than Dan, I had to work hard to keep up with his momentum; the whole descent was grin-inducing with only the occasional two wheel slides around some of the sharper corners. So. Much. Fun.

Regrouping at one of the small shelters, the misty drizzle set in. Continuing while chatting about bikepacking (again, eyeroll) to Dan we were just cruising. That is until we were passed and I realised we were wasting a good downhill. Unfortunately I timed picking my speed up with one of the big holes we had been warned about. I managed to avoid it, but fell in the process and was fortunate not to be run over. I got off lightly with only a bruised and scraped knee and a sore wrist – along with being somewhat covered in mud, now slower and with my ego taking a hit.

The trail seemed in excellent condition and rounding slips and bluffs was far less precarious than I remembered. We were at the Bridge in no time, close to an hour and a half before we were to meet the jet boat. Plenty of time to linger and appreciate the bush and remoteness; until the rain set in again, that is, and we moseyed down to the shelter above the landing.

Yup, to nowhere.

All loaded up for the forty minutes down the river, just missing something.

A few kayakers coming to join us at the landing for a bit.

Eventually we got on the boat…

The rain really set in and it could have been a miserable trip down to Pipiriki. But I was just warm and protected enough that I could still enjoy and appreciate the incredible Whanganui River and its dense surrounds – majestical. Alas, no photos worth sharing with so much water flying around.

Loading the bikes again, wet and muddy we did a number on the bus interior for the tortuous trip to the northern trailhead of the Old Coach Rd. Unloading at Horopito the northerly was very strong and strangely chilly – but once moving, it did blow us quickly along the open part of the trail before we entered the bush. Another excellent trail, and being the old road for horse drawn coaches between two railheads gradually converging to form the North Island Main Trunk, it was well made. Heading in this direction was definitely faster than bikepacking in the opposite one, so less time to savour it and read all the historical signs.

A few planks would do it?

Everyone, that I heard, rated the trail very highly and at only an hour of riding twas a great end to a day out in the elements. Mountain Kebabs downed in Ohakune, forty minutes took us back to Raetihi in fading light and then dark. Noting the propensity of mountain bikers to wear mostly black and not carry lights, I was happy to play lantern rouge at the back in my bright green top and with a couple of blinky lights. I did have to find another dinner at the only option in the village, so I must have done some work – but with only sixty kilometres and little climbing in the legs for the day, it can’t have been much. After the murky and atmospheric day through some remote sections of the North Island, it was a contented and subdued group at the house that night.

Sunday I was excited to return to the 42nd Traverse – the first big, backcountry ride I ever did way back in 2005 and when I met some good riding buddies. Well, it seemed a big, remote adventure back then when I was much less experienced, bikes were far less rideable and reliable, and there was a lot less trail beta out there. That first time it was a whole-day undertaking, but I returned three years later and found it only took two and a half hours with one other. I did remember big ruts and holes, and tough long climbs…

Starting at 900 m, the drizzle quickly had us very wet and muddy – but it was warm. Route finding was much easier – there are trail markers now, who’d have thought? We passed a few vehicles coming back from a morning hunt, the surface was very good. Gone were all the big obstacles; sure, it was damp and possibly slippery – but all easily rideable. An hour of gradual downhill and we were then able to rip down the steeper descent – nothing too wild and more good fun. The seven of us were of a similar pace all day so there was little waiting around, it worked well.

Food time at the halfway point, not the whole reason for a big smile – a good wee adventure in progress.

The only walking section of the whole route. Seeing this, jackets came off despite it still raining – it was that warm.

I’m unsurprised that the climbs weren’t nearly as bad as they seemed over a decade ago – I may be a bit more used to hills. Still eight hundred metres in forty-five kilometres is some climbing. I was just happy to be able to keep pedalling as my gear shifting was playing up; time to replace jockey wheels it turns out. The rain ceased and the afternoon started to clear and warm – in time for the climbing of course. The native forest was far denser and more impressive than I remembered; another fun little ride done as we overcame the wet, wheel-sucking gravel into Owhango.

Completing the vehicle shuffle, we loaded up, said our goodbyes and headed home. A very unusual weekend of biking for me – far more time and distance spent in transit between rides (only rode 110 km all up) than I am used to, I found it a bit weird. But never mind, it enabled riding of some excellent routes with a great crew. Thanks to Anton for an incredible job of organising the whole weekend and marshalling us all – no mean feat.

Finally got to see the mountains we’d been playing in the shadow of all weekend when we stopped in Taupo on the way home for an early dinner.

Strange seeing my under-utilised mountain bike lightly loaded – before it got filthy.