Category Archives: GPS

around home, bikepacking, bikes, friends, GPS, NZ

Mangatutu Three Hot Springs

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Deciding it was high-time that Carl put his recently acquired bikepacking set-up to good use, we finally found a weekend free of other commitments and headed for the hills. Choosing a much hotter and head-windy day for the third annual overnighter to Mangatutu Hot Springs, it was great to have some company on this iteration of the trip.

I managed to cobble the requisite gear onto my bike in plenty of time – note extra water portage for the hottest day of the season so far.

Carl didn’t faff for too long after I arrived at his house and soon we were off into the strong northerly wind, conscious of the high-twenties of centigrade to deal with. With tyres, that have actual tread on them, it was noisy and slow going as we climbed up Puketitiri Rd. However, there was little traffic, the weather was pleasantly warm and the whole road fills me with nostalgia. Carl kept a good pace and there were few photos stops – so these two links will have to do.

A brief respite at Patoka School was used to fill water bottles and prepare for the last thirty-odd kilometres of climbing. Up to Patoka the road approaches five to six hundred metres above sea level; after Patoka the road undulates, constantly flirting either side of six hundred metres. At Ball’s Clearing the seal finishes and we enjoyed the change in surface to gravel – if not the steep hills as we rode into the evening.

Passing a collection of pick-ups, we missed the Search & Rescue training exercise and, thoroughly spent, dropped off the last pass to the campground. Almost-matching tents were pitched, dinners cooked & consumed before well deserved soaks in the eponymous hot springs. It was a brilliantly clear night, with the full moon casting long shadows as it rose. Despite the clear night, it was warm; rather worn out from the hills and the headwind, we slept well.

Cattle kept beady eyes on us as we climbed out of the Mohaka River valley.

There were plenty more hills to lay eyes on as we were pushed along by the warm northerly.

Carl shows me again why I really should get around to fitting some aerobars to my bike.

Leaving the Mohaka far behind, we were soon back at Ball’s Clearing and whizzing down the seal back home.

Yet, there were still many small hills to get up. Nearing Taradale it was fun to be caught up by someone on a gravel bike (who’d ridden roads I’d half-hoped we’d have the energy for) and consequently yarn about past & upcoming bikepacking events.

Beer & refreshments awaited us as we returned – pleased with a successful outing where Carl proved a capable bikepacker and excellent riding buddy. Now, to find some more hills and get some more miles under the wheels.

around home, bikes, GPS, NZ

Hawkston Rd gravel seeking

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For about two years I’ve meant to vary a ride I did soon after moving to Napier. Saturday last, it was finally time to go and explore some different gravel roads up near Patoka. The spring weather was wonderfully warm, sunny and still – and I’d had enough of chores around the house. Also, it’s time to get a bit more distance in the legs as we head towards summer and more bikepacking & mountain-biking trips.

The memories came flooding back, now having ridden up Puketitiri Rd a few times – mostly on overnighters to the Mangatutu Hot Springs, which reminds me it must be about time for the annual trip. I stopped at some of the usual spots as the views were worth it, as they generally are. There was little traffic and the riding was very pleasant – I got to thinking that I don’t really want it to get much hotter; late spring is plenty nice, thank you very much.

The Kawekas in the distance, I wouldn’t be getting quite as close this time.

It’s definitely very green up there this time of year, that’ll last for another month, or two.

Facing a bit more south-west than west – the direction I was headed.

Nearing the three-hour mark I passed through Patoka and turned off the “main” road. There was a long cruise down on a sealed road that, judging by the signs, was nice and wide due to logging traffic.

Finally, gravel! It was very nicely surfaced.

At the furthest point of my loop, there was a little bit of a spur – it seemed a shame not to explore this road too. Dropping to a rather lovely stream the road was to then climb steadily to gain a couple of hundred metres. I was surprised at the number of farmhouses on this short stretch of road – even some dairy farms, which are generally in short supply around these parts (which I am still getting used to having spent so much of my life in dairying regions).

I met two farmers approaching on quad bikes – the second stopping to ask me rather incredulously “you know this is a dead-end road?”. I answered I did, and was helpfully informed that it was all uphill to the end of the road. He was right. But that meant it was all downhill on the return, at least to the stream.

Sure enough, the road ended in a forestry block – lo & behold one Pan Pac’s, it shouldn’t be too hard to arrange permits for further exploration. Time to turn and head for home, with still a few new bits of gravel for me to discover.

Undulating, but trending downhill towards the ocean, it was wonderful riding.

I arrived home well pleased with what I’d seen and found, and pleasantly tired from my longest ride this year – most excellent. Quite looking forward to more such rides, both local and further afield this summer.

bikes, family, GPS, NZ, travel

Wombling in Wimbledon

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With Mum and Dad having come to stay for a ten days or so mid-winter, it was decided that we should go away for a few days together. Often I’d driven the highway south of home and looked east towards the coast and wondered at the long line of big hills and what might be there. This was as good a reason as any to choose north-eastern Manawatu for a quiet few days in the countryside. A house was duly booked on a big sheep farm.

Taking a couple of days off work, my birthday got off to a wonderful start – I even had presents to unwrap, most unusual. A leisurely morning of sorting bikes, strolling in the sun and packing over – we were off south on rural roads I’d not been on before. Lovely countryside, many hills and turns – we arrived at Spring Creek, just past Wimbledon (which seems to be pretty much a pub and little else).

We had this lovely old, spacious farmhouse for a few days.

The house was great to poke around and find all sorts of old things – just the general day-to-day items were interesting enough.

Birthday dinner was down the road at the Wimbledon pub – the seafood basket is huge and delicious. So big, that I found out two days later that a half serving satisfies even my hunger. I’ve long wanted to bikepack along Route 52 (a road that lost its state highway designation) – I may have to make that a priority just so I can have the seafood basket again.

1886 counts for a pretty old pub in NZ.

We were enjoying learning of the pioneering history of the area, how it was cleared of native forest (unfortunate as the hills are so steep, erosion and slips are now quite a problem), supplied from the coast (there was no road to Dannevirke, or anywhere for that matter). Our hosts, Shaun and Sue, were fifth generation farmers – so there were plenty of stories to hear.

With enough bikes for the three of us, we were keen to go for a ride to the coast. With only a couple of small hills and a stunning day on Friday, the thirteen kilometres was achievable for Mum & Dad – who hadn’t done a lot of riding recently.

I had plenty of time to stop for photos, admire the scenery.

Heading for Herbertville – we turned right at the foot of those hills.

I carried on a bit past Herbertville, just because – gravel!

Looking back towards the wonderfully named Cape Turnagain – where Captain Cook decided he’d gone far enough south, and turned back north.

South towards Castle Point – another place I’m yet to make it to.

Back to the house for a late lunch, we were all well pleased with our rides. Sue and Shaun had said we could drive to the top and back of the farm, passing some old buildings on the way. The Corolla somehow made its way up the steep hill and we found a old woolshed and some ruined houses.

Circling the woolshed trying to find a way in.

Mum made it in.

Said disused woolshed.

Carrying on up the hill – a bit of fun for the little car.

South over Manawatu.

Back north over the farm which reaches across the valley to the hills in the middle distance.

We went hunting for old farm houses – instead Dad got dwarfed by old pine trees.

The living room could do with a bit of a touch up.

I was determined to ride around the farm, so dragged the mountain-bike out Saturday morning and was rather chilled riding back up the same steep road we’d driven up the previous afternoon. Crossing a muddy ford opposite the abandoned woolshed, I finally discovered the elusive tumble-down house and laden lemon tree we’d been looking for yesterday.

Most of the remaining structure seemed to be supported by ivy.

Ivy did at least frame the windows nicely.

This may be a part of why we initially struggled to find the ruined house – yes, there is a house in there. Somewhere.

I ground my way to the top, huzzah for single chainrings up steep hills, and was rewarded with clearer views over eastern Manawatu.

The Ruahines in the distance.

I had a blast following rugged farm tracks along the ridge line before a steep, steep plummet back to the house.

The afternoon’s outing was to head back to the beach for a walk to Cape Turnagain, or thereabouts. We drove there this time. Wide, flat and with the cape rising out of the sea it was a very nice walk in the afternoon sun. Two hardy surfers followed and passed us, before heading into the Pacific. There were a few others out on quad bikes, but the crashing of the waves easily drowned out any potentially annoying motors.

We found dozens of seals enjoying the sun at the cape, so turned around and returned with the wind at our backs.

The tiki-touring continued – we drove past where I’d ridden south the day before to see how far the road went. Not much further was the answer. Back to the pub that night for dinner – Dad managed to find somewhere to watch the Bledisloe Cup test. Mum and I had one of our occasional close-fought Scrabble battles, I was particularly average.

I was determined to find some gravel roads and thought I’d planned a good loop around Birch Rd. Dad joined me on the Route 52 section getting up a couple of decent hills. Turning off the tarseal, it got much steeper and I bade farewell to Dad. As expected, it was all very hilly. The land use alternated between sheep pasture and pine forest; forestry dominated. Every section of pasture gave a different view. At times I could look right back across the farm and spy the route I’d ridden around the farm previously.

There was clearly some logging operations going on somewhere up the road. The gravel varied from nice smooth, old road to big chunky gravel that had recently been laid. Areas of perpetual winter shade were quite damp and the surface up the last big climb was hard going – almost muddy gravel that hadn’t packed down. I was keen to get to Weber, mainly just to explore more back roads and see what was in the village. But aware that that would be cutting short even more the time spent with Mum & Dad, I opted for the short loop and hurtled down the hill to Route 52.

I was surprised not to lose even half the altitude that would take me back to the house. The short section of Route 52 that remained really must be steep. Certainly, it was. Mum was also out riding when I returned. The rest of our wonderful break away from it all was spent lunching, packing and loading bikes. What a great stay – so much to do in a place that seems to have little of the trappings one is used to.

With plenty of time up our sleeves, we could stop and read off the longest place name in the world. Yes, it’s quite easily pronounceable – it’s not Welsh after all.

The even-more scenic (roundabout) route was taken as we didn’t have to be at friends of Mum & Dad’s until five-thirty for a very informative walk around their vineyard, sampling of their wine and a fantastic “simple” dinner. A late return home after a very relaxing weekend.

around home, bikepacking, bikes, GPS, NZ

Waipataki Overnighter

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Over my two summers so far living in Napier, I’d not quite made it to Waipataki Beach and its camping ground. Recently bought by the local councils to ensure that it was kept open for locals, I decided it must be worth a visit. The original plan was to load up my bike and ride that bike to work one Friday morning and then after work ride to Waipataki – I figured this would be easily achievable before dark in the summer. However, that never quite worked out and the Friday after work plan was discarded when daylight savings ended.

With a brilliant autumn weekend forecast, I readied myself and shortly after lunch on Saturday set off on a little adventure to explore somewhere new. In actuality not much of the route was new – I avoided the highway as much as possible and took the long route up Waipunga Rd. Waipunga Rd being a favourite route of mine when I was trying to get at least a little ready for Tour Aotearoa.

Leaving the Hill behind, over Westshore Bridge I followed my commute route for ten or so kilometres.

What’s this? Offshore power boat racing. That’s different. Not to mention loud, fast and repetitive.

I was heading for the coast in the far distance, just right of centre in this shot.

The crossing of the Esk is at the start of Waipunga Rd, before the hills start. It’s looking a bit lower than a couple of weeks previous, when we had 200 mm of rain in less than forty-eight hours at work (process water at work is taken from the Esk).

In the mid-afternoon sun (warming enough to only need arm warmers in addition to shirt), the climbing began – as did the views of rolling green hills and distant ranges.

The largest part of the climb ascends this ridge from right to left, steadily gaining about three hundred metres. It’s very nice.

I really enjoyed the gradual climb – stopping often to snap photos to share.

On top of the ridge, the road surface changes to gravel while the climbing slackens off markedly. With no traffic, the warming sun and the changing views it was blissful.

Eventually, the road starts to roll up and down a bit more – gradually climbing overall.

I paused at the end of Waipunga Rd to look north – this was as far north as my route would go, and also the highest altitude. I had five hundred metres to lose in the twenty kilometres to the coast.

I turned right onto Kaiwaka Rd – more lush gravel! I headed for the highway to cross it.

The sun sunk further, setting nicely on this rather out of place patch of toetoe.

More hills – thankfully I didn’t have to ride them all.

I kept a watchful eye on my shadow as I lost altitude quickly.

It seems one can’t really escape work – the pulpmill steaming away on the right; Napier easily visible stretching left across the water, the hills south of Havelock North in the distance.

I said my goodbyes to cell coverage with one big downhill, a few hairpins and cool rushing air as I blasted down to Waipataki and the sea.

That was a great little ride (three hours, a shade under sixty kilometres) in the hills to get to a new spot. Checking in and setting up my little tent, it was time for a wander down to the beach in the last of the light.

First I had to work out how to cross the stream.

Big stepping stones helped, I didn’t fall in; just.

I gazed off over the Pacific (which I can easily do a few hundred metres from home admittedly, but it’s different when there’s no one else around, no houses, no city…) and wondered what might be over there – more new places to explore one day, no doubt.

Darkness overtaking the campground, I cooked my modest dinner, and gratefully accepted three large lamb chops from a couple that had brought too much food; funny, I never have that problem. I found a book and settled down in the warm of the lounge to read for a while before retiring to my tent. Thinking over the afternoon I fell into an excellent night’s sleep.

Up before dawn, I strolled down to the beach in the cool of the morning, found a better place to cross the stream and waited for the sun to rise.

Having cooked and eaten my porridge, I waited a little for the first of the sun’s rays to rise over the cliffs and dry my tent some. I was happy to do so as I still had a book to read.

It quickly became apparent that it was to be another stunning autumn day.

All packed up and ready to ride, I resolved that I must plan a two-night stay sometime so as to explore the many walks and some biking possibilities.

Pedaling up the driveway, the day’s only sizable hill rose in front of me.

It was easily conquered and I was soon on the highway and on the short route home.

The highway gets rather close to the coast and the puffing pulpmill comes back into view.

And just like that I was nearly home, back on my commute route.

A fantastic little ride from home with plenty of wonderful distractions and more discoveries for me.