The fourth and last of a very unusual run of weekends away, I was very much looking forward to this year’s Classic Geyserland Gravel Grind – even if it meant another week away from my current obsession of route and event planning. The promise of a weekend of leisurely bikepacking with fifty others, catching up with friends, good spring weather and an enjoyable route is good like that.
Friday after work I drove towards the start in Rotorua, but again stopped short and left my car in Waikite (the end of the second day’s riding) before biking the short distance into Rotorua.
Tucking my car behind the scout hall, I left it under the watchful eyes of some cattle as the day drew to a close.
It was a very pleasant evening for the ride into town – just a little hilly as I made it through farmland to the highway and much-too-adjacent cycle path down to Rotorua. Dark long since come, the full moon rose further as I approached the forest to cut through.
This toilet block looks a bit fancy for bikepacking accommodation. Also, my, every time I visit Whaka forest – not often these days – it’s grown a lot.
Reaching Pete’s the night before a GGG event, there was the usual warm welcome, bike and gear tinkering, other riders and tasty dinner – all to the sound of much bikepacking chat. Amanda had just bought a new bike (almost identical to mine, incidentally) so there was much to sort out.
Packing continued the next morning for some and Ian arrived too – so we briefly had back together more than half of the crew from two weeks ago. Before we knew it, we should have left to assemble at the museum. Then it started to drizzle; we finally set off. Riding through the malodour of Sulphur Point we suddenly stopped and turned around as we met fifty-odd bikepackers coming the other way. Oops, we may have missed the briefing and start.
The long and short course riders soon split. I chose the long course as I’d seen the newly opened Royden Downs connector last year and wanted to see how rugged the Okataina Walkway was compared to three years ago. We (around twenty riders) were back in the forest; I may have snuck off the route to ride some singletrack – how could I come here and not?
Just a couple of old favourites were ridden before rejoining the route.
After a bit of forest road, the new trails around by Tarawera Rd were most excellent – particularly the descent to Blue Lake, even if I spent most of it distractedly chatting.
Blue Lake was far more deserted and tranquil than I expected it to be.
Riders spread out and I continued towards Okareka solo. Through the small settlement, there was a short stretch of lush gravel to be found on the way up to the (western) Okataina walkway.
The first half of the fourteen kilometre track was basically all rideable and lovely as it climbed over and descended from a ridge. Reaching a deeply cut out stream crossing, the hike-a-bike began as the climbing also started in earnest.
The trail got a bit cut out in parts.
Then deteriorated into deeply rutted out. For quite a while, there were only three parts like this that necessitated pushing my bike.
Generally the trail was more rideable.
I was feeling a bit sluggish, perhaps due to the little extra gear I was carrying. Due to the relaxed nature of the weekend, and also the forecast overnight rain, I was carrying my tent and extra clothes – was this weighing me down or was I just a little fatigued from all the travelling in the previous three weeks? Still I rode most of it, walking a little near the top and finally began to find a few other riders to chat to briefly. Eighty minutes for eleven kilometres through excellent native forest got me to the high point of our day – although it must be mentioned, without nary a view of the track’s eponymous lake.
The descent was so much fun! Weaving through the forest, some of the trail wasn’t in great condition – but was mostly rideable. In fact, thinking about it now – I just want to go back and do it again. Loaded or unloaded bike, it doesn’t make much difference. Fifteen minutes of exhilaration later and things flattened out and I was soon at the education camp to find buddy Roger and a few other riders. It was great to catch up to Roger, not so great to hear how he fared down there on very skinny tyres and ineffective cantilever brakes. Also, trail angels with much banana cake! We headed for the store and lunch talking away.
Fifty kilometres in, we were following the shore of Rotoiti and had somehow already clocked a thousand metres of climbing – maybe that’s the reason I had been feeling a little slow, it didn’t seem like we’d climbed that much.
The main re-supply on the long course, it was well frequented.
Another bikepacking trip, another pie and packet of salt and vinegar crisps. The spring roll and milkshake went down quickly too.
With only 120-odd kilometres to ride for the day, there was no rush and I enjoyed sitting in the sun as various other riders came and went. Great to catch up with familiar faces and meet new ones. Eventually I had to leave, if only to cease repeated visits to the store. Eight kilometres of highway disappeared and we were back on quieter roads – most of which I’d ridden last year, if not before that.
The roadside foliage parted enough for one glimpse of Lake Rotoma.
Most of the afternoon was gravel and was solitary riding for me. The norwester somewhat slowed the gradual descent to sea level, but there was plenty of daylight left. One of the flat pedals I’d put on for the weekend (very much in touring mode) started to squeak annoyingly – strangely, if I flipped it the sound disappeared.
For much of the last hour I found company as Pikowai Road took us to the coast, and a very useful tailwind to Murphy’s Campground – where a sea of very small tents was gradually building. Having hauled a tent all day and with the rain radar imprinted in my mind, I couldn’t however turn down a spot in a cabin. Which was prudent, as after returning from Matata fish and chip trip it absolutely tipped down for a couple of hours.
Our cabin rose early Sunday morning, but I was in no rush to leave – so once ready, I moseyed down to the tent village and caught up with Roger. He’d endured a rather wet and uncomfortable night in a bivy bag, but was in good spirits and taking plenty of pictures. I posed for one, but didn’t realise this candid shot had been snapped until I saw it – thanks Roger.
Leaving just after seven, I joined Brent and Amanda – both whom I met on last year’s Mega Grind – as we chatted our way up a steady five percent gradient. Much talk and excitement shared around bikepacking routes in Hawke’s Bay and Wairarapa – looking forward to exploring still more. The squeak from my pedal became more annoying.
Then my pedal became increasingly irregular in its normally circular travel. I looked down and realised my crank arm was coming off. Unusual. With the splines flogged out, even when I got it bolted back on it assuredly did not stay on. Damn. Not much to do but take my bike for a walk towards Rotorua in the warm morning sun – I did at least get to roll down the hills, of which I was sure there would be more of once I was off course. Fi gallantly came and rescued me after almost ten kilometres of enjoyable walking and rolling, then taking me back to Rotorua, feeding me and kindly dropping me at my car for the drive home (the cattle were gone, but my car was still there). I wasn’t too disappointed on missing the day’s riding as I’d ridden those roads numerous times before; but it was sad to miss a great day in the sun chatting with other riders and the eventual campfire at the scout den.
I’ve since realised that’s two GGG events in a row I’ve failed to finish! Just as well I managed to finish a much-tougher Great Southern Brevet in between. This one seems minor as it didn’t involve a dislocated shoulder and my bike will soon be fixed and I’ll be out exploring again next weekend. Thanks to Erik and Peter for another great event – even if I missed half of it – and all those that made it a great weekend, especially Roger and Fi for the company and retrieval.
Dense forest surrounded the flood debris and damage.
I had plenty of opportunity to lean my bike on trail entrances.
There were a few of these bridges, which in themselves were OK – but the approaches only had a rail on one side and often a precipitous drop close to where the rail forced one to ride. Also, I found the last of the sunlight.
This small waterfall was shortly before Skips Hut.
One of the earliest huts in the park, it was built for deer cullers going about their work as deer ran rampant in the forest.
Not many huts I’ve been to have stained glass windows.
One of the highlights of the weekend was watching a pair of blue ducks noisily make their way down this rather turbulent bit of stream.
Looking out over Bay of Plenty hills again.
After four years, I finally turned off the highway and checked out Waipunga Falls – mostly because I’d been driving beside the river for quite a while that afternoon.
Decidedly unshabby resting spot.
Tide was assuredly out, this boded well.
By nine o’clock it was well too hot for gloves and a helmet. What is this winter madness?
Halfway along this stretch, I decided no one would thank me for this rough going – and I was well aware there may be no other way out. So with the tide advancing, I retreated to the road up onto the main road along the ridge.
Briefly the actual road diverted from the paper road, I managed to get across this stretch of private land without reaching for some koha.
Have I mentioned I quite liked the ridge riding – Pacific on one side, Hawke Bay on the other?
Portland Island.
Looking down to Rocket Lab’s launch site.
A brief visit to the beach of Mahia Beach as Saturday dawned.
The sixteen kilometres back to the highway had a little climbing in it. Wairoa is further west, around the coast some more.
Wairoa River.
Finally I learned why there is a lighthouse inland – it was originally on Portland Island (the island off the end of the peninsula), and moved to and restored in Wairoa after it was decommissioned.
I never worked out where these two were walking to – it was ages to anywhere.
There’s the road down there, I’m about halfway up by this stage. I see now that the end of Mangaone Rd gets pretty close to where I was but two hours before.
The terrain flattened a bit and I found myself running across paddocks, somewhat excited to be discovering something that previously wasn’t on my radar at all. Although, it is possible my legs were so relieved to not be pushing pedals around that they couldn’t help but run. Perhaps I really was missing Park Run that Saturday?
Suddenly, a gate into a patch of bush materialised.
I soon found myself in a narrow long cave looking up at the stalactites. A cool little find, although I probably won’t send the route up all the way up here. 
Pinning it back downhill, I did manage to pause briefly and spy Mahia Beach and the Peninsula behind it.
