All posts by bpheasant

around home, bikes, GPS, NZ

Pourerere and Aramoana Beaches

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Following a short week at work after returning from Niue, the last long weekend for almost five months wasn’t perhaps as appreciated as normal. However, I certainly wasn’t going to waste it! Easing back into Park Run and trail riding gave enough time to scout out a long ride on roads and to places new to me – there are still a few around after my stint living here.

I set off south into a still dawn, eventually catching the sun rising over my left shoulder. Finally something resembling hills appeared as I got further up the Tukituki valley. Roads were deserted and I enjoy the solitude. There was no big horsey meet at Elsthorpe this time as I turned towards the coast. Just before I got back to Kairakau (of the mud-trip), I turned off and finally hit gravel and new roads.

This eighteen kilometre section was glorious. After the initial climb, it was most pleasant valley floor riding through large sheep stations before a decent climb and slight drop to the Pourerere road.

A rollicking descent dropped me down to the beach at the sleepy seaside settlement. There were plenty of great examples of classic Kiwi baches and some fine old tractors seeing out their retirement hauling boats to, in, out and from the surf. I paused for lunch, enjoying the winter sunshine and the sound of the waves crashing.

A gravel bike would have been ideal for this longer ride; that is, until I found at low tide the beach was passable by vehicle to the next village south. I was pleased to have the larger volume tyres as I followed motorbike and ATV track along the soft-in-places sand.

Around the corner I found somewhere else new – Aramoana. I’d not heard of this one, not being steeped in NZ infamy. It was much more manicured and poncy than Pourerere (which with a name that rolls off the tongue so wonderfully, has much going for it). Finding the beach route was a real boon – I’ve often looked south of home on the map and wondered about connecting all the isolated little beach settlements on a ride. Having since been told that with the right tides, one can ride or drive much of the way to Castle Point the schemes are starting to percolate.

Turning for home, there was a bit of bonus gravel back to Pourerere. The only disappointment of the day was realising, while stopping for a bit of cheese, that I’d lost my trusty and well-travelled Buff – it having been on most bike rides with me since the MTB World Champs of 2006. Never mind, I groveled back up the hill and down on some more new road to the Tukituki.

Back towards Pourerere and the Pacific.

Finally I found a reason to stop at the Patangata pub (pie and chips is more than enough reason, really), refuelled and hit Middle Road in the twilight. It was decidedly night by the time I reached Havelock North, the stars providing an ample spectacle as I started to think of dinner. That sorted, it was cycle trail all the way home – thus completing a thoroughly wonderful ride using all available daylight hours. I couldn’t believe how warm it was riding in short sleeves into an early winter night. I was well pleased with new places seen and look forward to finding more.

bikes, family, GPS, travel

A Little Niue Biking

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It didn’t take long for me to assemble my bike, but finding the time in the busy swimming, snorkelling and eating schedule was a different matter. Adele was also keen to explore a little by bike (i.e. get around the island without being confined to a damp, musty van with suspension that groaned with every pothole – of which there were multitudes). So Wednesday morning, she borrowed a bike, with fetching basket, from her friends and set off to follow one or two of the designated cycle routes.

I’d done just enough research to learn that there had been some small effort to attract cyclists to Niue to ride various small loops of main roads (quiet), back roads (even quieter) and jungle tracks (quietest). With the map of island in hand we set off to cross the island and form a couple of small loops. Leaving the main road and the coast, it was straight into a steep climb up to a transmitter tower and onto the plateau.

Soon we were on dirt tracks getting deeper into the jungle. At times we passed small patches of cultivation and the occasional dwelling. Apart from dense tropical jungle, little seems to grow around here. The small fields mostly contained more taro than I would ever care to contemplate.

Joining the sealed road that approximately bisects the island, we headed east to find the Vinivini bush track. The trees were a bit larger through here, even less traffic was to be found and only one pack of dogs – they were rather worrying, but. We reached the trailhead and were surprised to see a car (obviously a rental) parked there – would we actually see other people? It threatened to rain, but was generally warm and humid.

We found more taro, and even a bit of papaya. The one we picked didn’t last so well in the basket.

Trail marking wasn’t great, but we’d preloaded maps onto our devices and could mostly work out where we were supposed to be going. After taking the obvious, clear track at one point it quickly terminated at another taro patch. So that left a partially overgrown path to take – plenty of fallen trees to ride around, lift bikes over and tall scrub (not of the stinging variety) to bash through. A little bit of adventure in what was generally a sedate ride. The trail was clear under the canopy, but anywhere the foliage on the ground got light – it was a little out of control.

I found something to clamber over and #bikesrestingagainstearthmovingmachinery.

With the briefest of showers, we reached the end of the trail and joined the perimeter road.

A leisurely hour took us back across the island, past the schools and university campus (?!), and I had to take a peek at the island’s power station – one diesel generator and a decent solar array. I think I earned my two rotis for lunch from that pleasant little outing.

Determined to at least ride around the island once (it’s only logical), the following morning seemed good as the McKirdys were off on a fishing charter catching dinners for subsequent nights. Once again, the roads were deserted and I found for the most part riding was just as fast as driving. Giant and numerous potholes are far more easily avoided on a bike – and there’s not really any need to slow. Weaving through the obstacles I continued in a clockwise direction, avoiding more annoying (and sometimes worrying) packs of medium-sized dogs. They did me no harm, but after encountering dogs while riding in other countries wariness accompanies me.

Plenty more derelict houses peppered the sights of the jungle.

About two-thirds of the way around, along the rugged and even-more-deserted east coast, I found the trail to Togo Chasm. A wide walking trail through lush and unspoilt jungle, I tried riding it for a few hundred metres; alas, it was covered in too many slippery roots and rocks. The pleasant stroll under the canopy deposited me on top a large section of uplifted fossilised coral. The path descended to the top of the chasm and a ladder built for giants descended to the sand below. Sheltered from the Pacific crashing nearby, in this still and sheltered area a few coconut trees had thrived. I enjoyed the peace for a bit before climbing the ladder out.

My bike had not been consumed by the tropical forest in the time I was away.

Unfortunately the rain returned and, strangely for the daytime, set in. It was still warm and interesting riding – just plenty wet! So no more riding photos; as I went around the south of the island the remoteness faded and I was soon passing the only resort. Thankfully, the main road headed inland and the perimeter road went back to being deserted. Nearing Alofi, I found what came closest to being an industrial area – the island’s tip, a quarry, and container compound. It was curious to see a large barge, on wheels, deposited next to a playground surrounded by isotankers – I guess that’s how all the fuel comes in.

I found the others at the Crazy Uga Cafe. It was nice to be out of the rain and get some hot food. The day’s spectacle was the tying up of the monthly-freighter. With the wharf not having a sufficiently deep berth, the small ship had to be tied up out in the bay. What goods was this ship bringing, would they backload empty containers? Just how were they going to get the containers off? That last question at least was soon answered as a very large front-end loader roared down the road towing the aforementioned barge behind it. Over the following days the combined effort of two cranes, a pilot vessel/tug, the barge and the ship’s own crane transferred a series of containers between the ship and shore. It’s a nice reflection of the slow pace of island life that this was quite the spectacle and going-on.

So a couple of nice little rides had me seeing much of the island. I never got around to zig-zagging my way down the centre of the island – but the weather was far more conducive to swimming and there was much to be seen underwater. In that light, it probably wasn’t worth taking my own bike (although that’s always nice) – I could have easily borrowed one and had a less comfortable and reliable adventure!

family, travel

Niue Nukes Nanking

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That poor attempt at alliteration for a newspaper headline in sixth form English was about as much as I knew, or didn’t, about the small Pacific island of Niue until last Christmas. Adele started to talk of going to holiday there in the winter. Upon being invited along, I was rather indecisive – I’d not been on an island holiday before, there really wouldn’t be much biking and I’m not much of a swimmer. Somehow I got talked into it; tipping the balance was the fact that such opportunities are obviously rare for me.

It worked quite well, a week relaxing on a tropical island was just the tonic to deal with the post-marathon tiredness. A bike was still packed, as I maintain that bikes are a great way to explore somewhere. The rest of the McKirdy clan arrived a few days before me, so by the time Adele met me at the airport everyone else had island life down. I’d done minimal research – Niue is a self-associated state of NZ, one of the world’s largest coral islands approximately equidistance between Fiji and the Cook Islands it is home to only 1600 people (most Niueans live in Auckland).

At the beginning of winter, it was strange to be surrounded by reminders of home (similar vehicles, street signs, groceries imported from NZ and so on) yet it was almost 30ºC everyday. Unfortunately, it was unseasonably wet with heavy downpours most nights – but the regular daytime rain was generally quickly passing showers. When we spent so much time in the water, more water falling from the sky didn’t really curtail activities – anyway, we didn’t usually have to wait long for the sun to reappear.

So we spent the week snorkelling, swimming, fishing, walking to various caves and chasms, eating a lot of coconut and fish (sometimes together, often not). By far, the highlight was the snorkelling in the clear blue water. The reef extends out from the shore, so there is no need to swim or boat out to it – it’s right there. The colourful fish and coral life was staggering and I was enthralled.

Even though the island is tiny (it took only three hours to ride the perimeter roads), a van was necessary to get the eight of us around between all the beaches and other sights we wanted to spend time at. If you think the NZ vehicle fleet is old (many used Japanese imports), Niue is another level – used-NZ-used-Japanese imports, if you will. It seems spare parts are hard to come by, so discarded wrecks are strewn all around; it’s odd.

Alas, I have no snorkelling photos (you’ll have to take my word about the vibrant colours) due to the wetness of the water – so here are some more land-based pictures.

First explore – down the cave near Adele & James’s accommodation. There are a lot of limestone caves around the shore.

A smattering of ferns down said-cave.

Happy not to climb down there into the surging ocean. Nice and clear, but.

A twenty or so minute walk through the jungle led us down to Talava Arches.

Looking out through and to Tavala Arches.

Exploring the flats between the arches at low tide.

Typical jungle walking.

Walking out through Palaha Cave to the sea.

Looking out across to the edge of the reef.

A shower has passed. Those tsumani evacuation signs look familiar. Also shown: the general state of the few roads – that is, poor.

Near the end of the week, the sky cooperatively cleared for some decent sunsets.

The photo above was taken from the balcony of the Hio cafe, where on Thursdays they hold a fantastic banquet of local cuisine. We enjoyed it very much and I may have eaten too much – definitely filling my lifelong quota of taro.

Tamakoutoga Beach – one of the few sandy ones.

More beautiful pools at Avaiki Cave, and rather unconvincing proof that I did actually go in the water.

John appreciating that Avaiki looks even better when the sunlight is shining directly into the entrance of the cave.

Avaiki Cave had something approaching a mezzanine level, good fun clambering up there and checking out the formations from a different perspective.

Fifteen years ago, Niue was hit by Cyclone Heta and the damage was catastrophic. Alofi, the main centre, bore the brunt of it and was devastated. With so many homes ruined and such damage, we heard that two-thirds of the island’s population upped sticks and emigrated to NZ. Many of these emigres still own their land on the island, but the shells of their houses are still in ruins and slowly being reclaimed by the jungle. It was a curious sight, these abandoned and derelict houses, and a little disheartening – and I could hardly be said to have any ties to Niue.

Our last full day on the island had the best weather that I got to see there; we made the most of it by swimming at three different beaches in amongst the eating, drinking and chatting to people. With such a small population and only two flights a week from Auckland bringing people in, we kept seeing the same people all around the place. Rather quaint and charming.

Back to Matapa Chasm; this one has some fresh water flowing in so is cooler – but this time we had the sun directly overhead warming us, perfect.

James up yet another coconut tree.

Coconut catching was well practiced by this stage.

Final swim was at Limu Pools, especially good.

All too soon it was “plane day”, and our time relaxing in the warm was over. A fantastic week, so very different to my usual trips away – thanks to all the McKirdys for having me along.

around home, event, GPS, NZ

Hawke’s Bay Marathon

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For most of the last fifteen years, I’ve been somewhat in awe of anyone that can run a marathon. To me, it seemed an improbably long distance to run. Despite this, there always lurked at the back of my mind the question “could I run a marathon, do I have one in me?”. My detestation of running and never having run more than five kilometres did nothing to quieten these ponderings.

Life continued with only occasional musings about marathons flashing through my mind. Then a strange happened, after losing a bit of weight and hearing running might be good cross-training for my bikepacking, I decided to see if I could actually run a bit. Park Run, which I knew all about from when I was in England, seemed a low-key and supportive way to give running a whirl. Early last year, I rolled up to the local event and to my surprise was actually able to run five kilometres without collapsing or hurting my knees. Hoo-rah!

Intermittent Park Running saw my times improve through last year, and only the occasional slight injury. Twice I even got dragged around by others for ten kilometre runs! Madness; although I must admit it’s far easier to travel with running shoes than a bike.

With such a base, why not find out the answer to those recurring questions? So rather quietly, I signed up to the local marathon (no travel costs, easy reconnaissance, familiar terrain and, most importantly, dead flat), found a training plan and support online and got into it. Would it be possible for this cycling adapted body to go from 10 km to a marathon in less than a hundred days? I was keen to find out. Four hours was the nominal target finish time, but mostly it was about making it to the end.

It was pretty easy to get into the training plan. Each week two short runs and a progressively longer run were interspersed with flexibility and strengthening exercises. It took a lot of time to stick to the program – and much more discipline than I’m used to for my biking (after all, it’s not hard to get out and ride when it’s so enjoyable). For some reason, I was keen to keep my marathon ambitions quiet – mostly because I wanted to see if I could do it independently and didn’t want to get distracted with all sorts of good advice.

Training managed to not get sidetracked by long rides (focusing on running and not going riding was perhaps the most difficult part) for the first couple of months. But then a stunning Easter weekend came around, and I couldn’t forgo four days of bikepacking. I had a grand weekend biking, but with that, a busy weekend following and then getting a cold – I missed the two longest runs in the plan. Oops.

By then it was time to start easing up before marathon day. I did at least not overdo it and went in well rested. The big weekend rolled around with an air of inevitability. I had no doubts that I’d finish. My best run in training was 27 km at a comfortable pace – so I was confident I’d get through the first 30 km OK, and then just suffer through the last 12 km. Not a great plan, but I didn’t really know how my body would react after the 30 km mark.

After some ordinary autumnal weather, race day dawned clear and cold. Possibly the coldest morning we’ve had so far this year. A slightly larger breakfast than normal went down and I still had plenty of time to walk to the start line, stretch a little and assemble in the start pen and wait for the gun.

Following a quick wave to friends spotted in centre of the runners, the gun went off and a mass of nerves and limbs took off around the corner. Through Ahuriri and past the Port of Napier, this was all familiar running surroundings. But the throng of other runners and being on the road was unusual. I was trying to keep to five minute kilometres, but expected to go out a little fast. Once the crowd thinned a little, I started a four hour history podcast going and settled into a slower pace listening to an account of the final throes of the Great War.

On such a glorious morning, there were plenty of supporters out cheering people on. It was especially odd to be running down Marine Parade. Through some back streets, we were soon out into more rural areas – it sure had been easier biking the course. I’d mentally prepared myself for the six kilometre stretch of stopbank to Pakowhai; this part of the course wasn’t particularly interesting or scenic, but did at least pass the halfway point.

The road back to Clive saw me start to slow noticeably; there was a large contingent of supporters on the way out of Clive (about the 30 km mark) – so that was encouraging. It was nice to be out in the sun, with little wind and trying to imagine all the local scenes as a visitor would see them – this particular event seems to have become a destination race and is heavily promoted (or vice versa, perhaps). My feet started to swell a little, I should have stopped and loosened my laces – but didn’t for some reason.

Getting pretty sore on my feet, after 35 km short stretches of walking eventuated – while slow, they did at least keep me moving towards the finish line. My running was probably pretty ugly by then (there are definitely no good event photos that are worth paying for!), and plenty of people passed me. At Black Bridge, the shorter courses joined and there was only a few kilometres to go! Those still on the half- and 10 km courses were not much faster than me, so that wasn’t too discouraging.

Over the last little bridge and down into Haumoana, I managed to run the last two kilometres. After the good atmosphere and support previously, running through this stretch was disappointing and anti-climatic. There were people wandering every which way, many on the course and it was difficult to weave through them in my tired state. Just as my podcast was winding up, my phone started ringing in my ears – apparently the builders replacing my house’s roof had struck a plumbing emergency with water gushing all over! Leaving them to deal with it as best they could (it worked out fine, and didn’t cost too much) I turned into the finishing chute at Elephant Hill. Still not completely sure how I managed to take a phone call while running to the finish of a marathon – surreal.

I think I managed to at least run over the finish, collect my medal and a lot of fluid. Pretty happy to finish, and at 3:53:14, well within my vague goal. I went and found a nice patch of shady grass to lie on.

So it turns out I did have a marathon in me somewhere, at least that question is answered. Pleasing to find that out and satisfying having put in a concerted effort over the previous months. Now I’ve done one, I’m sure there is a lot of time to be shaved off – but really I’d rather get back to riding my bike more, keep Park Run up, and run shorter distances around hills and trails more.