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Hawke’s Bay Anniversary Tour – Day One – Waipawa to Napier

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Three short months since the idea struck me, thirteen of us assembled in Waipawa to ride the first Hawke’s Bay Anniversary Tour over the four-day long weekend. 550 kilometres awaited to take us from the south to the north of the province on backroads, gravel, through a farm, on cycle trails and a short stretches of highway. Well pleased that anyone turned up at all, it was excellent to see a couple of familiar faces and meet many for the first time, after much correspondence.

The heinous winds of the previous night had died down somewhat, but as the sun rose it was still blowing a fair bit from the west under grey skies.

I had a brief moment to myself not at all worrying about anything I may have forgotten.

As six-thirty approached, riders arrived but some were still missing – just as well no one was in a rush. Ten minutes later the last of the trackers were handed out, a brief and incomplete briefing delivered, a few photos taken and we rolled out a casual ten or so minutes late.

I’m smiling as I know what is to come on the route, just waiting to see how it will play out; everyone else is doing so as they’ve no idea about the hills and are off into the unknown.

It was an easy start, and although most had cool digits – the rain didn’t eventuate. With quiet backroads and wide cycle trail, chatting was easy – so much so that I completely missed a turn. Some turned back with me to battle the wind again, others didn’t; it really didn’t matter. The rural roads even quieter than I expected, chat flowed freely as various stories were swapped. As the group spread and the strong westerly momentarily became a headwind, Pete and I settled into our similar pace. The route turned away from the wind and was never that bad. Ugly Hill Rd, followed soon after by Old Hill Rd gave us first real climbing of the route.

Before long, we were plunging down two hundred metres to Porangahau careful not to be blown over by the gusty crosswind. We’d made good time to arrive for morning tea – pie time, and a relaxed break at the always wonderful horse-float coffee-cart. I’m told the coffee is very good, judging by the smoothies and home-baked muffins I’d believe so. Turning to the east, we left town as others arrived.

Parallel to the coast, we now had a tail wind up a long straight before turning onto more gravel to Blackhead Beach. Pretty lush gravel gave us a few little hills, but distracted us with views of coastal farming. We were surprised to catch up to Debbie and Emma – they’d clearly not stopped. Dropping suddenly to the beach, a squall blew through for the ten kilometre section. More than three hours before high-tide, it wasn’t as firm and fast as on the scouting ride, but easily rideable and charmingly beautiful.

Appropriating a hose at Pourerere, we rinsed the sand and salt off our bikes before the long climb away from the coast. The following section of gravel was far more fun in the reverse direction, as we headed down towards the coast again at Kairakau. Alas, we turned north a few hundred metres short and made for the farm. That five kilometres sapped the energy from us as the shingle was wet and slow.

The rain came into visit again and things cooled dramatically; the four of us stopped briefly in the shearers’ quarters at the farm entrance for hot drinks. It was very generous of the farm manager to allow us access across the farm, and use of the quarters – five riders would stay there overnight. There was even WiFi! It was fun to check on everyone’s progress along my little route. I was pleased that all, that planned to, got through the beach section before the incoming tide prevented them; it was less pleasing to hear later that they got fairly hailed on.

We couldn’t sit around all day…

With the wet weather, the climb through the farm was now a push where others discovered what I’d try to relay about how quickly the innocent looking dirt, when only slightly damp, sticks to wheels and bind them. The views I’d had the previous month were not around as we got wetter and wetter with a front blowing across. At times, it was downright cold – as far as that happens around here.

Kairakau is down there somewhere.

However, as happened last time, once riding along the ridge in a small gully it was quite sheltered and the rain left us for the rest of the day – in fact, the rest of the weekend.

Bare Island was finally visible; no chance of seeing Mahia and the finish this time.

Riding through the farm was easier this time as I knew where to go and the farmer had moved most of the stock – which meant half the gates were open, so good! The descent towards Waimarama was still proper bumpy, more so on a loaded bike. That ten kilometres over in seventy-five minutes with quite wet feet, and our bikes washed again, Debbie and Emma leap-frogged us briefly before the long sealed climb up to Maraetotara – mostly into the wind.

Crossing the Tukituki for the second time, suddenly there was traffic and heading into affluent Havelock North was a bit much after a very quiet rural day. The long climb up the road to the iconic Hawke’s Bay summit of Te Mata Peak was tedious after twelve hours. I’m not sure it was worth it, so it may be first section of the route to be altered.

At least the summit always has something different to offer for views. Looking towards Napier.

I did enjoy bouncing down the only section of singletrack on the route, although I was in the minority. Rolling into the “village”, it was time for a big burger before the wind-assisted spin into Napier. Delightfully, two friends, and dot-watchers, met and rode with us for different stretches into town. I’d always hoped to ride to Napier on the first day, so was well pleased to get home in good company. The weather wasn’t the best, but it was far better than we’d had earlier in the week and the forecast for the coming days was friendly. I fell asleep rather pleased with how things were coming together.

around home, bikepacking, bikes, GPS, NZ

Scouting Saturday – Te Apiti and Maraetotara

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With just one more section of the route I had in my head left to confirm, it was an early Saturday start to drive south.

I was early so popped down to Kairakau Beach to check out the camping facilities – but mostly just looked at the view.

Meeting Richard and Ange, the farmers who are being kind enough to not only let me route through the station but suggested a far better track to follow, we soon sat down to discuss how these sorts of bikepacking group rides work. Working out what was reasonable conditions to let an untold number of bikepackers loose across the farm was fairly straightforward and we had a good understanding.

Richard was tried to describe the route I should follow using a map; visualising it became a whole lot easier when he pulled out a drone and sent that off into the sky above and around the hills. What a fantastic tool, it made route-finding on the ground a cinch. After checking out the shearers’ quarters generously offered for riders to stay in (hot showers, bunk rooms, kitchen, BBQ, WiFi – luxury! definitely better than sleeping in a ditch), I was off riding.

I was soon reminded of the peanut butter mud-fest that struck us the last time I’d been in the area. Just the slightest moisture overnight on the exposed dirt turned an innocent looking surface into a wheel-binding paste. Not even twenty metres in, I couldn’t ride and was off pushing. I don’t believe it! Again?! This stuff sticks to everything. Thankfully, after scooping the excess off and only a little bit of walking, enough grass appeared beside the track that wheels would turn without accumulating more mud. I could ride, however slowly. Situation much improved, I got right into the ten percent climb. The sheep and lambs were vocal as I interrupted Saturday morning brunch.

Climbing so, the views quickly opened up as I looked south.

Half an hour of ascent, and many gates, later I was not lost and set off along the ridge. The cattle were even more perturbed by this strange apparition, but took it well – naturally becoming curious as I rode on. Talking to them may have helped.

Bare Island came into view; but more importantly, one could see the finish way off on the horizon. It’s only another 400 kilometres of riding away, and just a few hills.

The descent was fast enough for me on rugged farm tracks, with hard tyres and no suspension. Obstacles, holes and livestock were easily avoided. Off the farm, it was a short cruise down to Waimarama for lunch. I figured it was such a nice day and I had the time – a beach visit was in order. Pleasingly, there was quite a line up of old tractors, hitched to boat trailers, patiently waiting the return of fishers.

Making a break from these scouting trips.

Another horrible day out exploring Hawke’s Bay.

Time for more roads new to me, I left town up Okaihu Rd; and I do mean up, straight into another ten percent pitch. Cabbage Tree Flat didn’t have many such trees to speak of, but it was refreshingly flat(ter) and lovely gravel. Topping out after four hundred metres of climbing, I enjoyed the long shallow descent down past Maraetotara. The views of Kahuranaki were constantly catching my attention, and it was odd to see Te Mata from a distance south. I realised it was actually quite windy, somehow I was sheltered earlier from the westerly despite riding along a ridge top.

Turning at the end of the road to retrace my steps, I snacked and only then realised I’d been in the sun for a few hours and sunburn was a possibility. Funny how one forgets about that, it’s not like winter was particularly harsh or bleak. Even before the end of September I was riding in fewer clothes than I do most summer; but that was only because I’d lost my Buff at the start of winter – which I replaced the following day as something to stop sweat dripping in my eyes is again necessary.

Stopping to distract the livestock from the view on my return to Waimarama.

Shortly after this old shearing shed, I was back on the farm.

Going north to south was the more difficult of my two trips across Te Apiti. The climb, while not quite as steep, seemed to drag a little compared to the morning’s – tired perhaps. I took the shorter of the two options down to the car.

It did afford this view – I’m sure I saw more cabbage trees up here than on Cabbage Tree Flat.

That route down was steep and, my, it was rocky and loose. I let a little too much air out of my front tyre, but it did soften things a bit; still, my lower back hurt from the shake down the hill. Turning to look back up, I was certain no one would thank me for routing up what would surely be a needless hike-a-bike. Having said that, with a loaded bike the longer path up may involve quite some walking.

Another fantastic day out riding new places and now I just have to sit down and sort all the administrative details of HBAT.

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

Scouting Sunday – Central Hawke’s Bay

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Needing to ensure that the short section of beach riding required for my planned route was actually rideable was the basis of the weekend’s scouting plans. A few different options presented to kick-off the Hawke’s Bay Anniversary Tour and get to the beach. In the end, I decided to stick to keeping things in Hawke’s Bay and planned to check out the first hundred kilometres – none of which I’d ridden before, and only slightly more I’d seen from a car. It looked good on maps! Initially, the forecast looked good for more mid-winter camping – but westerly gales put the kibosh on that idea. Putting a tentative call out, I found others willing to join me on my debatably-mad scheme (all a matter of perspective, seemed perfectly reasonable to me).

Meeting in Waipawa at sunrise, the first objective was to find a suitable start point for the event.

This bandstand will certainly do.

With Josh (returning from a very rare few weeks of, injury-induced, inactivity) and Marek (returning from a month visiting back home in Poland, and little riding, and never having ridden close to the proposed distance) assembling – why wouldn’t we have a grand day of riding bikes?

It promptly started to rain, and the westerly continued to whip around us. Rain gear hastily donned and we were off through the few deserted streets, crossing the Tukituki bridge and finding the cycle trail to take us off the highway. It was a bleak soaking inauspicious start, but there wasn’t that much rain in the forecast so we grinned and bore it through Waipukurau.

Leaving the main road again, we cut south through flat farm land. The rain slowly eased as the gradient equally slowly eased us up. For early August, there certainly were a lot of young lambs bleating as the rain fell. We quickly got the idea that cyclists are few and far between up Hatuma way as we were quite the novelty for resident cattle – a curiosity-fuelled stampede was narrowly avoided. As the rain ceased, we got the first sign of a shadow around nine as we finally hit a climb to warm us. Gravel was reached for a fun drop down in to Flemington – which seems to consist of a country school, a playcentre and little else.

Another rainbow? That’s just getting greedy as the rain left us for the day.

Briefly back on seal, a long straight was only interrupted by stopping to close a broken gate, and snack. It must be said that the mob of cattle behind the wide open gate were very well behaved and not all over the road. Surprised to see a polo field/paddock near Purimu Lake (we missed the golf course), the anticipation of heading up Ugly Hill Rd was palpable. I never did work out what was so Ugly about it, the climb and views were anything but. Some pleasant undulating ridge-riding deposited us in Wallingford and a few kilometres of Route 52 led us to the gravel of the similarly imaginatively named Old Hill Road.

A more direct, on the map, route to Porangahau said hill was clearly the reason this was not the main road and remained unsealed. We climbed and climbed, all the while getting close to Porangahau – which I knew was down at sea level. Surely we must stop climbing soon…

Time for another snack stop, looking north and attracting the inquisitive farm animals again.

The coast appeared, finally, after many hopeful glances east.

All the while the westerly continued to batter us from the side. Up on the ridge, there was nowhere to hide – large shelter belts were ineffectual. The descent was a screamer – dropping 250 metres in two kilometres. If that wasn’t exhilarating enough, rounding one right-hander we were broadsided by the full force of the wind. Exciting times, especially with a frame bag, come sail. I rolled into town thrilled with the morning’s route and the roads we’d found. The start of the route was promising, even if there was a very easy thirty kilometre warm-up.

The small village exceeded all expectations. The store had delicious homemade pies (I restrained myself at one) and there was a delightful coffee cart in the garden next door – I’m told the coffee was of a high standard, the muffins I can vouch for. Seventy kilometres into the day, refuelled and slightly rested we chewed off easy flat kilometres with the wind pushing us along parallel to the coast. That’s the good thing about loops, provided the wind stays constant – it all balances out, eventually.

Come noon, Blackhead Rd was joined. Marek shunned the easier option of sealed and relatively flat roads back to Waipukurau – keen to see the beach and the objective of the day, no doubt. I was secretly pleased as if he got that far, he may as well complete the ride with us as the alternative would have been neither here nor there in terms of easier length and hilliness. We were back on quiet gravel again. That is, “quiet” being zero traffic, compared to very little. Sidling coastal plains, the farms were windswept and just looked exposed and hard work.

Pleasant riding in the sun with the wind behind us.

Over a little rise, we spied Blackhead Point. The beach is further up the coast and we contemplated the path the road would take to get through or over the hills.

The shingle mostly took us between the hills, but we did eventually climb to about a hundred metres and joined another road back to town. We were but two kilometres from the beach. Josh and I were just persuasive enough to convince Marek to stick with us, see the beach, click over his first 100 km ride with us and we’d get him home somehow – the big climb and headwind may have been glossed over.

Having ridden in on so much gravel, Blackhead Beach certainly felt remote and I wasn’t expecting more than the handful of holiday houses and campground that we found. Having serendipitously timed our arrival half an hour before low tide, the beach provided perfect riding conditions. With that tail wind, the hard-packed sand was far faster than we expected/feared. We flew up the beach.

Grin inducing, in fact.

Marek, and we, celebrated his first ever 100 km ride. A top effort.

Much fun was had.

Reaching Pourerere, ten easy kilometres of beach riding was over and we paused for refuelling and to redistribute loads. I helpfully consumed a huge sandwich. Threats of being deposited in a ditch if it was more than the promised thirty-odd kilometres back to Waipawa hung over my head as we departed. A steady pace over half an hour swallowed up the three hundred metres of climbing away from the coast and gave us plenty of hills, coast and ocean to look at. Another hour of tending down, battling the wind and the odd climb took us over the Tukituki again (downstream of the morning’s crossing) and changing our heading for the final stretch home.

As the long day started to tell over the final few kilometres, the wind eased and a large rain cloud loomed ahead of us – would we make back dry? As I’ve already spoiled that, yes – we did. All pleased to see the cars again, and hopefully I can speak for all in saying that it was a great and satisfying day. Most excellent to have good company join me in trying winter conditions, and successfully put a little more of my route-puzzle together.

around home, bikepacking, bikes, GPS, NZ

Scouting Sunday – West of Wairoa

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Since realising on last week’s overnighter that a worthwhile bikepacking route from the south to north of Hawke’s Bay is more feasible than previously thought (as I’ve finally found ways of mostly avoiding the notorious highway between Napier and Wairoa), the idea has become somewhat consuming. I also realised that over the last four years I have built up a little local bikepacking knowledge that may be useful, and maybe there are others that would like to come along on such trips. Suddenly, this little site has a simple new Hawke’s Bay Bikepacking page and there’s a corresponding group. Not entirely sure how that happened, but it’s good fun and hopefully useful.

There’s still a bit of scouting to be done to ensure that the route I’ve mapped out does indeed go. With a fine mid-winter Sunday forecast, I headed north to Wairoa to see just what the roads and terrain are like west of the town. An early start, the twisty, slow dawn drive reinforced that I must try to route off the highway as much as possible. Parking in Wairoa early, the famed Osler’s Bakery was about the only place open – which was handy as that was exactly where I needed to go to stock up on pies for the day. A brisk morning, it was still and quiet. Unfortunately I had thirty kilometres to back-track on the highway; pleasingly, the first little gravel shortcut went through and there was next to no traffic as I tackled a couple of steep climbs.

It’s odd being on the other side of the large bay from where one lives and seeing things from a different perspective.

Looking, over Mohaka Township, to the south of Hawke Bay and Cape Kidnappers on the left, Napier is in the background on the right.

Not quite at the Mohaka River, I turned off the highway and immediately hit a steep climb – so steep the gravel road had been sealed especially. Slowly I made my way higher, distracted by the view opening up to the left.

Back to the Mohaka and its eponymous viaduct. Riding through this area one begins to see why it took thirty years to complete less than 200 kilometres of railway.

I reached the ridge and the gravel returned – in good condition it was too.

My research indicated that there was an unformed legal road that would take a more interesting route than the sealed alternative lower down the valley. I was surprised to find an illegally locked company gate preventing access, but carried on. Pleasantly the road was top-notch gravel along the ridge – with plenty of little climbs and descents to keep one honest. The pines in there are still quite young, so the views around were good.

Flat-deck Transit, anyone?

An hour off the highway, out of the forest and back on a formed road, I passed through rugged pasture before joining Putere Rd to head northwest – I just had to see if a bridge over the Waiau River was in fact there. If it was, many more route possibilities, including through to Lake Waikaremoana, would open up. Climbing resumed in earnest as the views opened up southwest to Maungaharuru Range. There were enough glimpses through the pines to keep things interesting. Passing Cricklewood Road, which was the real objective of the scouting mission, at around 500 m it was a fast descent (a mix of seal and gravel) towards Lake Rotonuiaha.

The bridge is there – huzzah! Unsure why I doubted it wouldn’t be, a sketchy aerial photo perhaps. I tried to keep my mind on the task at hand and not scheme up wilder and longer routes. They’ll keep, I can’t wait to get back up there and explore more. Lunching at the end of the bridge, a local in a pick-up stopped for a chat (I suspect cyclists are a rarity in those parts) and offered local knowledge of what would be good loops.

Fuelled by another pie, it was time for the grovel all the way back up. It goes some way to show how quiet it was out there, that I was surprised by, not one, but two cars passing me on the climb. I didn’t see any other cars off the highway all day.

Another section sufficiently steep that it had been sealed.

My original plan for the day didn’t include parking in Wairoa and the extra distance that entailed – instead I was to do over two hundred kilometres in the hills, including seeing what is at the end of Putere Road. It turns out, I spent more time taking photos and considering optimal route options than simply riding. So I abandoned that plan, but couldn’t resist seeing if Putere School, marked on maps, was still open. Although the end of the school holidays, it certainly is still a school and only a few kilometres down the road.

Not a bad outlook for one’s primary education.

That distraction over, the rest of the climb awaited; now with the gentle breeze behind me.

Heading back into the pines, I was again thinking of making the route longer if Cricklewood Road was pine-clad with no views. It started out so, but soon opened up with stunning views all around. Although super bright from the mid-afternoon sun, slowing down was necessary to avoid riding off the edge of the ridge distracted as I was by the landscape.

Regular sharp climbs and descents appeared as the ridge was followed. Rounding a corner, horses! Dogs! And easily, a thousand or so sheep heading down the road. Just a typical Sunday afternoon country traffic jam. Avoiding spooking the horse, the riders (shepherds in the strictest sense, I guess) allowed me through to try and make my way ahead of the flock. It took me twenty minutes to slowly make my way through four kilometres of sheep-filled road. A sign of how mild and seasonally-confused this winter has been, the lambs I saw didn’t exactly look new born – and it’s only July.

Soaking in the warm sun, the descents gradually outweighed the climbs and altitude was slowly lost before one final long downhill to the highway.

Mahia Peninsula looking closer than normal – I’ve still not made it there, but hope to finish the route there. Prime Rocket Lab launch viewing spot up here too.

A fantastic day’s riding, I was thrilled by what I saw and found – especially looking forward to introducing the riding to others. Curtailing my optimistic plan for the day was in part done so I could drive a few other roads on the way home and see if they would be worth including. They certainly are, a completely different gravel road: a skinny, twisty, hilly, loose shingle road was another delight before I hit the highway and headed home.