Category Archives: NZ

Wharerata and Old Mahanga Rd

Decidedly uncomfortable for the first half hour pre-dawn, I may have gone numb for the second as the relatively flat valley floor riding continued. After seven I warmed as the sky lightened and the hills started. But I then climbed into a layer of fog and was chilled again. The stars disappeared from view as the increasing light revealed what I already knew – it was downright frosty.

It was probably warmer among the mob of sheep waiting to lose their fleeces. Until they lost their fleeces.

The level of fog was stark as the sun rose and slowly crept down the hills opposite.

No stopping at the Tiniroto Tavern this time, far too early. Realising I’d not ridden Ruakaka Rd from the south, I thought I’d better if I want to put it in this year’s HBAT. Ruakaka is very good and there were no vehicles to be seen; the most activity I saw was some farm-kids feeding their horses. The climb back up to Tiniroto was not as big as I remembered from bombing down it in February, that aided me in getting to the sea-level outskirts of Gisborne by noon. I’m glad I’ve found a couple of gravel alternatives through this way; the sealed Tiniroto Road has become rather boring to me now.

The gas station at Manutuke was the lunch stop, and a disappointing one at that. One thing in the pie warmer, and I had to ask what it was. Turns out a BBC is a Beef, Bacon & Cheese Roll – a glorified sausage roll that may have, to look at it, been kept warm for the best part of a week. The friendly roaming dog didn’t even show interest in it. An hour of lazy, flat valley floor riding with the sun on my back, no wind and no traffic was an easy start to the afternoon – before the lifestyle blocks turned to sheep and beef hill country, and pines started to appear.

Back on gravel, it was a bit of a mess. Strangely, there were work crews out on a Saturday fixing up the road from logging truck damage. I had quite a chat to one of them, trying to explain and counter their disbelief as to why I was riding a loaded bike up there. Ignoring roadsigns of questionable legality (the gates were open after all), deeper into the forest I climbed.

Pleased and surprised, I found swathes of native bush on the eastern side of the road. There was no-one to be found and I had the place and views to share only with wood pigeons. Glimpses of Hawke Bay to the south on occasion had me looking toward Mahia, where I hoped I’d make it before I ran out of energy. Ticking along casually, I was well aware I’d not ridden a loaded bike for six months and I may be out of gas before expected.

Dropping, I popped out in the middle of a section of highway I can’t remember ever being on – bit odd considering it’s only a hundred kilometres from home. A short section of that to Wharerata took me past a lookout I’d heard much mention of.

Poverty Bay with Gisborne on the left, and Young Nicks Head in the centre.

Turning south, gravel ridge riding didn’t provide much in the way of views as it was mostly pine-lined. After ten kilometres, the road slid closer and closer to the Unformed moniker in Unformed Legal Road. With a little hike-a-bike around and over treefall, the fast-approaching sunset loomed larger in my mind. Out of the forestry and over a gate, I was into the farmland that would take me down to Mahanga.

My, where did all this mud come from?! Confronted with vast patches of it, suddenly I was going to be out well after dark. Oh well. However, it seems this is quite different to the wheel-binding mud of southern Hawke’s Bay. It was hardly slippery, and not at all sticky. Not having rained for a couple of days, when one couldn’t ride around it on the grass, it was negotiable. Slowed, but not too much, my crossing to the eastern (coastal) side of the hills was a continual balance of risk and reward – slow through the mud, or riding the narrow grass verge on the edge of the hill.

As the sun sunk, I was pleased to find myself riding with this guy again.

Off the ridge line, the mud lessened markedly and riding down the track quickened.

Close to the coast now, looking north of Gisborne.

Dropping down to Mahanga as the sun sets on Mahia Peninsula – I was pretty sure I’d make it across the isthmus just before dark.

Indeed I did, and mightily pleased I’d not be spending the rapidly cooling night in a ditchbound bivy bag. I was pretty had it, and was surprised to find myself more than a little queasy – it hadn’t been at all hot, yet my classic end-of-a-long day symptoms appeared. Thankfully they are easily overcome and I rested well.

Closing the loop back to my car was a far simpler affair – only eighty-odd kilometres, all of which I knew, much of it lovely gravel backroads. Rest seemed more important than dragging myself up a big climb as the sun rose, so I slept in a little and watched the sun rise over the lagoon. Climbing Tunanui Road didn’t seem as steep from the east; even so, I was a little disappointed the Nuhaka store wasn’t open at nine – an ice cream would have gone down well.

Hereheretau Rd however had a far steeper climb riding it in the reverse direction. No matter, it was conquered and the cruise down alongside the Makaretu was sublime and the climb out of the valley was really quite nice.

Strange to be back at the car around midday, there was plenty of time for eating, driving home and even cleaning the mud off my bike. Seemed somewhat indulgent, a waste of good fine winter riding weather. Another successful HBAT scouting trip done, this year’s route is slowly coming together and I always love riding the hills of northern Hawke’s Bay.

Napier Hill During Lockdown

As we get used to what will be normal for a month-plus, I kept my weekend ride local – staying on the hill on familiar streets less than two kilometres from home. I’m rather pleased I do live on a hill, as there’s plenty of climbing to be found out my front door. What’s more, it was a glorious early autumn Sunday afternoon – generally sunny, with a gentle southerly not letting things heat up.

With the country in lockdown, the biggest change I’ve noticed locally has been the peacefulness without the suburban traffic. Riding every street on the hill was even more enjoyable without thinking too much of the traffic. Plenty of people were out walking and biking whilst keeping in their bubbles, many looking rather bemused by the whole situation. A bit different to my usual weekend rides, but thoroughly enjoyable with a variety of expansive views, a neighbourhood with a wide variation of architecture and plenty of trees.

Might not do this again for another couple of years, but it was good to find a better route this time – taking five kilometres off, while still covering all the streets on the hill. It did give me other ideas for exercise close to home, although it’ll take a while for my legs to be good for anything besides cycling on hills.

Cape Kidnappers from the end of my street.

Guess I won’t be downtown for
a while, from a little further back up my street.

Those three houses always catch my eye from afar.

Looking back towards my little corner of the hill.

There’s still a little bit of work for these tugs…

The cliffs I was on top of last week above the container ship.

Go get it!

Got it.

Over Ahuriri fuel storage, the estuary, and Poraiti towards the Kaweka Ranges.

Those cliffs.

A touch of the old sawtooth warehouses.

Indeed.

Te Wae Wae Loop

An offer of riding through a farm and potentially cutting a significantly nasty part of highway out of HBAT could not be ignored for long. With the forecast looking only a little rainy, phone calls were made and a plan hatched. Marek signed up at the last minute, possibly I hadn’t fully explained what he was getting into, I finally broke twenty minutes at Park Run this year and we were off driving north.

Ten o’clock was a leisurely time to start what could be a very tough day ride; familiar sealed road and favourite views helped to warm us on a mild morning. Thankfully my legs weren’t hurting too much. Turning onto Pohokura Rd, I was looking forward to the long gravelled climb through farmland and native bush.

There was actually some rain overnight, odd to see a wet road – it kept the dust away and only slowed us slightly.

This feels like it should be the top, but it’s not.

Looking forward even more so to finding what’s at the end of the road – rather than turning onto Waitara Rd as on previous trips.

Quickly losing five hundred metres of elevation was only slowed by constantly stopping to take in the changing view of all the hills in their various uses.

There I go, looking even smaller than is usual.

A brief level section for the final plunge to the Mohaka.

Heading into the valley which would take us an hour to traverse from left to right and climb out of. The Mohaka running across the shot from left to centre, the Te Hoe joining it from the background. We were due to climb that grassy face in the middle-distance, far right of shot.

It really was looking a steep climb away from the Te Hoe.

Crossing the Mohaka, looking west and upstream.

I guessed at which track to take off the side of the road, and guessed correctly. It quickly closed in with gorse and blackberry encroaching ever further.

Down on the river flats, the track was gone.

Giving up on the track, we turned towards the river for the shortest possible push through the dense thicket of willow saplings. No derailleurs were harmed, thankfully.

Beyond the foliage, we could easily spy the dozer track that we were to take up the face.

Having been told that the best place to cross was five hundred metres up from the confluence, I was pleased the flats were rideable. Hearing a yell from Ian, but not seeing him, we rode upstream.

Finally I spied a quad bike and two people over the river. With much yelling and little comprehension we found a good place to cross the swift, but thankfully low (droughts are good for something it seems), river.

Safely on the left bank, it was great to meet Ian and his friend Brian. Still very sprightly at over eighty, the yelling continued due to some deafness. Introductions aside, we discussed the best way to get out of the valley – we opted for the shorter, steep dozer track. Next time, it’d be good if it could be the longer route – different views and all that.

Ian led us across a bog and towards the steepness.

Averaging over fifteen percent, it was at times much steeper. I managed to ride the first third, but was constantly stopping to take in the expanding panorama. I’m glad it was dry, or else the whole ascent would have been a slippery push.

Te Kooti’s Lookout just right of centre.

West up the Mohaka.

As well as having people guiding us through and opening and closing gates for us, I thoroughly enjoyed the enthusiastic telling of stories of the land. From the struggles of the early settlers (the land broke them), to Te Kooti’s lookout and stronghold during the Land Wars and eventually the development of a sustainable farm. Now six hundred acres of the property is covenanted native bush and I’d love to get back, explore some more and see some of the huge native trees Ian spoke of.

Generously we were welcomed in for a hearty meal of mince on toast (thanks Carolyn), all the while being regaled further with stories of the farm, the area, the other farms (up near where I’d met son Ian a fortnight previous) and the large family. Bikepacking stories were offered up, but didn’t seem quite as interesting to me. Bellies full, we did eventually go on our way.

By no means was our climbing done, as the near landscape soon turned to forestry – although often affording glimpses of ranges further away.

My game of “how far away is Panekiri?” continued – a bit further away this time.

This certainly was a decent climb, but it did plateau before another fast descent again to the Mohaka. The gravel ended for the day. Nearing the river, unusually a helicopter started buzzing around – Marek pointed out it was the rescue chopper, not a good sign.

Pausing at the Willowflat bridge, the river was low and we marvelled at the size of some of the boulders deposited in the flow.

Willowflat was larger than I expected – that is, there were a few houses and actually people around. But my, the climb up to Kotemaori keeps on giving – steep and steady, it just keeps going. Thankfully, our very pleasant riding conditions held and it wasn’t too hot. Worryingly, a lit police pick-up passed us. I’d plenty of time to wait at the first false summit, so proceeded to devour handfuls of ripe blackberries while wondering about the Mohaka Rafting vehicle parked up – ostensibly for cell coverage. Ridge riding commenced (up and down) and seventy kilometres and two thousand metres of climbing in, my waits grew longer – but that just left more time to savour the scenery, blackberries and a staggeringly spectacular day of riding.

Looking over towards the early part of the route.

Back on the highway, cruising down that section to Waikare Gorge is so much better and safer than the grovel up in the opposite direction. With a final few hundred metres to climb, I pushed on – rather enjoying how the hills around here are becoming more familiar and fitting together in my mind more and more. Back to the car, I had plenty of time for a cuppa with its guardians for the day – more tales of local farming history, and bike trips. Bliss; once again, I’m already scheming on bigger rides to further explore another area of the region that in a few short hours proved utterly captivating.

Unfortunately, Graham confirmed that there had been a drowning on the river, which explained all the unusual activity – sad news indeed, but also helps to appreciate wonderful days of being alive and outside.

Also, must get back to Ridgemount…

Thanks to Marek for nine of the photos above and being such a sport on a tough day’s riding; also thanks to Ian and Carolyn for being so welcoming to their special part of Hawke’s Bay.

Scouting and Kopiko greeting from Frasertown

There was one section of Kopiko Aotearoa (the Cape to Cape ride that I was due to do, but ended up doing NITT instead) up near Wairoa that I’d never ridden. So I went up that way for the weekend to ride that, see how many Kopiki West to East riders I could find, ride a few other favourite gravel roads and do a bit of scouting for this year’s HBAT.

Leaving the house (where I’d been welcomed by friends of a friend with exceeding warmth and generosity) just before dawn, it was a warm enough start. The lights weren’t needed for long as a still day brightened.

Easy, flattish seal to start.

The Mangapoike, just before it flows into the Wairoa.

Nearing the turn-off, I’d be into those hills soon – new roads for me!

Up and over a little hill, I left Tiniroto Rd at Te Reinga – and promptly stopped to see the falls. The viewing platform could have been placed in a better position – perhaps where one can see the falls. No matter, I met my first KAers for the day and there started many episodes of stopping and chatting. The sealed road beside the Ruakituri River was pretty flat and easygoing. A perfect morning for cycling, no wind, warm but never hot or cold, no burning sunlight – it was excellent to be out; however, not the greatest for inspiring plenty of photo snapping.

Near the end of the seal, I spotted a little sign pointing KA riders in – a local farm had opened up their shearers’ quarters for accommodation, food and water. I checked it out, HBAT in mind, and managed to miss a passing shower. The light rain helped to dampen any dust on the gravel, I could see recently set deep bike tracks in the surface – the east to west riders didn’t have it so good up here.

A good climb up to four hundred metres had constant iterations one of my favourite bikepacking ponderings – “How does this road get out of this valley?” (catchy title, I know). Over the next couple of hours, there was a flurry of riders heading in the opposite direction – easily over a dozen. All were happy to stop, rest and chat – strangely they seemed more interested in what I was doing out there with little kit than answering my queries about their own adventures; perhaps after a week of explaining what they were doing, it was a welcome change to ask someone the same question. Or maybe I just like to talk about bike trips too much.

My obsession with seeing Panekiri Bluff from differing angles and distances continued. It’s so close here!

A long descent to Ohuka ensued before more chatting and onto seal – steep! It tried to rain again, but that was more cooling than wetting and most welcome. It really was a steep descent down to Lake Rd, I now appreciate a little all the comments I’d seen in the KA group and heard from the riders I’d passed. Still, what a road from Te Reinga – just fantastic.

Ten flat kilometres back towards where I came from, it was only a little tempting to head home to my excellent hosts. But, another new road – more exploring! Ruapapa Rd served up a surprising amount of pine forest – a big wide gravel road with more traffic than I was expecting and no views. Suddenly, a little hydro scheme that I didn’t know existed – fascinating.

Sun out by now and the westerly rising, the steep climb away from the dam and the Waiau River was a bit of shock. The descent to the river was fast, steep and heavily corrugated.

I stopped most of the way down and chatted to a farmer moving some of his 35,000 sheep.

A good thing I did too – I now have a contact which should enable HBAT to avoid more highway and cover more hills, and he pointed me towards water at a local community hall – also handy to know for HBAT.

It’s quite a gateway to the hall – from the old bridge over the Waiau. Coincidentally, the grandparents of my host for the weekend used to live in that house.

Over the river, the road was sealed again up what I’ve learnt the locals call the “staircase”. It’s only four hundred metres to ascend to the start of one of my favourite roads.

Finally, I snapped a photo of this cute little house I’ve notice many times before.

Again, Cricklewood Road did not disappoint. With the westerly stronger up here, the rolling climbs were there to be attacked – in amongst stopping to look over the terrain I was now slightly more familiar with. Deserted on a Saturday afternoon, there wasn’t even a huge flock of sheep to negotiate.

Towards where I’d spent the previous few hours.

No sheep this time – c.f.

I mean, look at it…

Over northern Hawke Bay to Mahia Peninsula.

Eventually, the big descent to sea level and the quick blast back into town were done and I was welcomed with a big barbecue dinner. Fantastic day, odd to be riding so far with an unloaded bike – that certainly makes 2000 m/100 km easier.

Sunday had a far more leisurely start – sleep-in, drive to Tiniroto and set off on a far shorter loop at half-nine. Mostly I was extremely keen to ride Parikanapa Rd again – it being so stunning on NITT, I wanted to know how it rode in the opposite direction. I’d love to see it in a course route, so this was important to find out. The steep climbing was done quickly and the bit that was rough and loose gravel while descending at speed, was really quite placid when climbing slowly.

Again, it was great riding weather and there was no traffic – well, I saw some quad bikes on farms and a car. I was curious to see how all the hills would look without the amazing evening light I got on NITT. While they weren’t quite as spectacular, the beauty of all the folds and creases in the hills surrounding that road was still apparent.

Another two wonderful hours up on the ridges of Parikanapi Rd over and I was back on the lower Tiniroto Road – my, it was comparatively boring. Although I did meet two more pairs of KA riders while I was riding downhill – I quickly u-turned and spun up hill chatting all the way until I started going down the other side.

Grass up the middle and very skinny road – only sealed as just around the corner were a lot of tight switchbacks dropping to the Hangaroa River.

Incidentally, it’s the meeting of the Hangaroa and Ruakituri Rivers that form the Wairoa – glad I’ve finally got that sorted in my mind. The Wairoa always seemed to me improbably large for such a short river; it seems to me that some of the tributaries are far bigger than the two rivers that start the Wairoa off. There’s a nice big park just over the bridge that crosses the Hangaroa there – a good spot for families, camping and for me to have my lunch.

Back onto gravel, the lunch-legs appeared – but the climbing was mostly slight, the views and surface pleasing. Only after crossing back over the river did a decent climb appear, but that was easily surmounted. Even less traffic on Ruakaka Road than in the morning – that is, no vehicles on the road. The twenty kilometres after lunch was quickly over to complete a lovely few hours of riding. Seemed a shame not to pop in and support the pub (they fed many hungry bikepackers over the week just gone) before heading south. I’d love to get both of these roads on my HBAT route, but that’s not likely – but, happily enough, more exploring is called for in these parts.

Saturday’s route, somehow I lost the ride – it was only about 3700 m of climbing: