Having had to cancel last year’s annual overnighter to Mangatutu Hot Springs, I was excited to get back out there for the fourth time. Previously it’s been an quick easy trip to kick-off the bikepacking season – but not this year, as it seems I’ve hardly stopped riding over the winter. Also, I was looking forward to sharing this little ride with half a dozen others from the fledging Hawke’s Bay Bikepacking community. Only posted at the start of the week, it required far less organisation and I was looking forward to meeting a few I’d not ridden with before.

Two of the group had set off earlier in the day to make the most of some cooler hours. Four of us left the Taradale clock tower for a pleasant half hour of easy riding and chatting on cycle trail to Puketapu.

Where we promptly stopped at the pub for lunch – would have been wasteful not to make use of the last services.

Kiwi burgers all round, Steve arrived and promptly ordered another. Before noon, we’d managed to avoid the crowds at this spot popular with those on all manner of bikes. Steve was excused for being late as after six months away, he’d had to find his bike buried in the garage and, not having ridden it since I last dragged him bikepacking over three years before, replace a tube and pack it with what gear and food he had. Enthusiasm for adventure does go much further than waiting until you have all the gear and everything just so.

Instead of just heading straight up the sealed Puketitiri Rd as previously, I’d opted for the longer route that would give us more gravel. The river flats lasted until twenty kilometres in and crossing the lower Mangaone River. It was warm, but not hot and for a change the wind was at my back heading out here. I found this route far better than Puketitiri Rd – there was next to no traffic, it climbed steadily (instead of steeply climbing in and out of valleys) and there was some very nice gravel.

Nearing the end of Dartmoor Rd.

Alan peeled off for said sealed route, so Chris, Brent, Steve and I moseyed on at a reasonable and constant pace admiring the views over the Tutaekuri to the Ruahines and Kawekas. Strangely, for what has been a very mild spring for allergies, both Steve and I started to suffer from hayfever – the standard sneezing, runny nose, irritated eyes. Not much for it but to keep on riding and admire the views. Only later did I realise that the source of the allergic reaction was the liberal dose of bushfire smoke that had drifted over the Tasman.

Chris heading up Waihau Rd.

Steve sporting the latest in summer bikepacking bags, as the day starts to get a little hazy from the smoke; the haze would worsen over the weekend.

The afternoon warmed, at Waihau itself there was a big rest in the shade of large trees – dreaming of ice creams that were not to materialise from anywhere. Reaching Puketitiri Rd, we were close to 600 metres high – we wouldn’t get much higher that this all day, but we would drop down plenty of times to return to a similar elevation. Brent well knew this and just how steep the end of the day got – with little loaded riding in his recent past, that was the last we saw of him as he opted for a different route.

To my surprise the golf clubrooms were actually open – I still haven’t seen anyone, sheep excluded, on the fairways. We topped up our bottles, ate and rested a bit. The local search and rescue group were out this way training, hence the open doors. Past Balls Clearing the gravel starts again and far fewer people ride bikes (a road ride to this point is a local roadies’ favourite, I understand). There’s one big plunge before the real work begins to earn the reward of a hot spring soak.

The drop towards the Mohaka River – a repeat of a photo I’ve taken a few times now.

Eleven kilometres of Makahu Rd leads to the campground at its end; it starts immediately with a climb so steep that it’s sealed. We sweated our way up there in the late afternoon heat, it’s mercifully only a kilometre long. Dropping down to the Makahu River, the ford was just low enough to get through with dry feet. The second climb is longer, and only a little less steep. Mostly shaded, it was sheltered enough from the breeze to be stifling.

Nearing the highest point of the day, the farm gate here is a natural resting and regrouping spot, with a peak of the Kawekas over yonder.

Contemplating one more hill.

Down again to one last stream crossing and to tackle the third in the series of greater-than-ten-percent climbs. This one you can see ahead as you cross the bridge – I’m unsure if that’s better or worse. It looks steep, but you can at least see the end point – although that knowledge may not have been common to all.

Farms and plantation forest left behind, the last descent has one surrounded by native bush.

I rolled into camp, nabbed my usual spot and was pleased to find Jan and Andrew had arrived considerably earlier. Shortly after, Steve, Chris and Alan arrived. With plenty of daylight left it was a relaxed evening of cooking, eating, chat, soaking in the ever-so-hot pools and consuming the vast amount of sweeter food that had been hauled in – special mention to Steve who’d lugged half a Christmas cake in. That cake sure was dense, in wonderful flavour too – not just mass per volume. There were some tired souls around, after all it does get a little hilly at the end – so pleasing to see people having ridden more than they thought themselves capable of and comfortable with. Hopefully the route choice doesn’t repel too many…

The upper Mohaka from the campground.

A leisurely start to Sunday morning, we gradually left at various intervals. The climb from camp was a good one to get the legs and blood moving. To mix up the out and back nature a bit, I opted to turn left at the start of Makahu Road to see what was at the end of Pakaututu Rd. Steve is unable to turn down opportunity for more discovery and exercise so he joined me. Over the Mohaka we found another steep climb, it would turn out to be the largest of the weekend and was fantastic as the mid-morning sun beat down on us. The views of the Kawekas from the north were easily the best we had all weekend, and there were hills, ridges and valleys all around. My mind boggled trying to comprehend just where we were with respect to places so close that I’ve ridden or driven – the bush clad contours just beyond the farmland were so numerous I was a little disoriented.

Crossing the Mohaka – much closer to the headwaters than the crossing six weeks beforehand.

As I neared the ridgeline, I came across a local farmer out moving stock. Correctly presuming he was the father-in-law of a colleague I chatted for some time. Amongst talk of the terrain, farming history and bikepacking, the biggest nugget was learning of the old coach road to Taupo – that begs to be followed up. Taking it easy for the mellow gradient along the ridge, admiring the views, I happened upon Steve waiting for me in some shade. We rode the last kilometre to the road end, me well pleased to finally see what was there.

Yes, there’s a woolshed and some stock at the end of the road. Hardly a shocking discovery.

This little lamb looked almost as pleased as I felt on such a glorious morning.

We turned and headed for home.

Not rubbish riding.

Over the river again, the biggest climb remaining took us back to Balls Clearing where we found the Search and Rescuers sitting some sort of a test at picnic tables – at least, I hope they were under test conditions as, besides colleague Mark who gave us a wave, they were decidedly reserved and stand-offish. Snacking and topping up with water, the Puketapu Pub beckoned for a late lunch.

Back onto the gravel off Puketitiri Rd, this time I didn’t see Steve waiting again in the shade; I blithely carried on assuming he was well ahead of me by now, as he’d been most morning. So we spent the next hour chasing, at a rather sedate pace, each other down all the while battling into a southerly. Unfortunately we were too late to lunch with the others at the pub and were running quite low on snacks. Stopping near the fields, that the previous day were raked and baled, to clear my ever-running nose, I was quite surprised when Steve cruised in after me – rather spent. The last of the chocolate supplies got us to Puketapu and a huge bowl of nachos – which seemed to have an entire tub of sour cream plonked on top.

A most excellent overnighter – so nice to share that ride with more people, not have my knee ache and discover what’s at the end of another road (there are still plenty more we passed that I’m yet to see) and learn of potential new adventures. The alternate route was a huge improvement, I wouldn’t be surprised if this becomes more regular than an annual ride.