Category Archives: bikepacking

Bikepacking Waikaremoana – Wairoa to Rotorua

The possibility of riding between home (Napier) and Rotorua had been mentioned a couple of times at work by Steve and me. While not initially put off by the idea, the thought of doing over two-hundred kilometres of highway (the start hilly and quite narrow) in one day rather discouraged me. Then a cycle-tourist who stayed the night carried on north to Wairoa and then rode the Waikaremoana highway. This is a highway in the loosest sense of the word – winding its way through the rugged and remote Te Urewera National Park, it is mostly gravel, sees little traffic and there are few settlements along the way. It is, however, yet another beautiful part of the country.

Convinced of the brilliance of a two-day bikepacking trip through the area, I just had to bring Steve around to the idea of a lot of unsealed-road riding. Although he’d never been bikepacking or cycle-touring, it wasn’t hard to get Steve onboard with the promise of a big, new type of adventure. A representative triathlete, I was a bit worried I wouldn’t be able to keep up with Steve as he’s one of those people who is so unbelievably active, it’s tiring just thinking about it; also, with Steve’s sizeable dose of Fear-of-Missing-Out I shouldn’t have been surprised he was a surefire starter-for-ten for my mad (the general consensus around the office as our plans leaked out) idea.

Unfortunately, we didn’t even got to Wairoa on our first attempt as I, unusually, got ill just in time for New Year’s weekend. This worked out well, as the weather turned horrid over much of the North Island that long-weekend – I was glad not to be out riding in such weather and sleeping in a tent. All the details worked out well for a repeat attempt the following weekend, so off we set for Wairoa early that Saturday morning. Delightfully, the fabled Osler’s Bakery was just opening as we drove into town – steak and mushroom pies are OK at eight o’clock in the morning for second breakfast, aren’t they? It was already 24ºC as we emptied the car and got our bikes and luggage sorted. It was clearly going to be a hot day, but we had all day to do 120-odd kilometres and the breeze blowing into us wasn’t too strong as we headed north over the Wairoa River and turned inland.

It was all rather flat for quite a while as we went up the broad river valley.

I was pleased to find classic Tip Top ice cream and Fanta advertisements on the side of a long-since-closed corner store in Frasertown.

I’m sure this sign is to warn off inexperienced gravel-road drivers and people who expect state highways in NZ to be up to a much higher standard than some (read: most) of them are. For the bikepacker, this serves to add to the anticipation for lightweight travel through remote places; I was well pleased to see this sign.

It was still all smiles as we had plenty of practice taking photos while riding along. This a particularly good one of Steven’s thumb, and for a change I make a photographic appearance in my own blog.

The sealed road ended after about thirty kilometres, but the climbing up to Lake Waikaremoana didn’t start in earnest for another fifteen or so. Another advantage of not doing this trip the previous weekend, was a lack of public-holiday traffic. That being said, there was a fair few people returning from the lake with boats and caravans at the end of their holidays. But the surface was good and we never had a problem with the traffic. Even the persistent norwester wasn’t too much of a hindrance on such a fine day – it had more of a cooling effect than a slowing one.

Taking a slight detour off the highway, we began a little side-tour; that of the Waikaremoana Hydro Power Scheme. This the lowest of three small power stations linked together, all using water flowing from the Lake Waikaremoana.

Riding across the dam of the hydro lake at Tuai – the power station in the distance. Most of our riding was now surrounded by either water or vast expanses of native bush.

First swim stop of the day for Steve.

As is quite common, a small town (large village, really) was to be found near this hydro power scheme. This one, Tuai, obviously built for the construction of the dams & powerhouses and still looking in really good condition. Just a representative house that I happened to snap while riding past.

We rejoined the highway and the climbing continued, but never steeply. Here we look back down to Tuai.

We lost a bit of altitude taking another detour to the third power station, Kaitawa. These penstocks bring water down from Lake Waikaremoana after it’s travelled through a tunnel. It was at this point Steve suggested we should ride up there as a shortcut; I suggested he go jump in the lake while I had first-lunch.

A rather reflective sign about the power scheme: in case anyone still cares and so I can stop banging on about it so much.

Quite picturesque really, despite the infrastructure. We set off on a short walk around the lake, but it never opened up and gave us good access to or views of the lake. So we turned back.

Steve did take that second swim, while I enjoyed my bacon & egg pie from Osler’s. Only when he tried to get out of the tailrace, did Steve realise the walls were really quite high.

We did make it up the access road beside the penstocks – it did save a bit of backtracking distance and in our granny gears the 20+% gradient was OK.

After that steep climb, we were pretty much at lake (Waikaremoana) level after about five hours and sixty kilometres. From there it was undulating for seven kilometres around the lake edge to Home Bay and second-lunch. You may have noticed a bit of a theme here: not travelling solo meant taking a large tent, which somehow Steve ended up with (still didn’t really help me to tire him out). Which in turn meant I had a lot more room on my bike to carry delicious, and necessary, food.

Finally, more of Panekire Bluffs came into view – much as I remember them from my last visit to the area to do the three-day hike around the lake with Adele.

Once again it proved impossible to keep Steve out of the water – just a swim across Home Bay & back this time, about a mile. I sat under a tree and enjoyed the $80/kg pastrami from the store at the campground.

Following the north edge of the lake on pretty flat road (now with even less traffic than not-much), I was confident that we would easily make the saddle and highest point on the route well before we’d had enough for the day or run out of daylight.

When we rode over the bridge atop Mokau Falls, we didn’t even realise they were there – let alone, that they looked like this.

This was our final view of Panekire Bluffs, perhaps the best yet.

Heading away from the lake towards the saddle, it was a gradual climb up a gentle valley shaded by the dense bush on our left. Crossing from Hawkes Bay to Bay of Plenty it wasn’t long until the summit. While the route was an awful long gravel road, it was interspersed with short stretches of seal – mostly around settlements and on any steep hills. Over the saddle I was pleased that the steep descent was sealed – my cross tyres proving a bit sketchy on anything too loose and fast.

We’d heard much of wild horses all over the road once over the saddle. Here, our first sighting; also memorable as just past all those cars was our first being-chased-by-a-fierce-dog experience of the trip (something else we’d also be warned about).

We took the opportunity to fill water bottles at a derelict motel in Ruatahuna – I haven’t got sick yet – before a few kilometres up to where there was supposed to be a campground. At least I was hoping so, details were elusive online – I think it was once a DOC campsite, but no longer. Anyway, it was there with a picnic table, plenty of space, a toilet, the Whakatane River in its infancy and masses of persistent sandflies (a bit like Scottish midges, small bitey insects that attack by stealth [unlike mosquitoes]). Steve made camp and just for a change from lakes, got in the river for his fourth swim of the day while I whistled up the culinary delights that are freeze-dried meals.

What a fantastic day’s riding – great route, excellent scenery, lovely summer weather, plenty of food, good adventuring company and even a bit of engineering history. Well pleased and well worth the effort.

Our set-up for the evening, I probably should have been not still sitting down.

We even had blue ducks visit our campsite! An endangered species native to NZ, they feature on our ten dollar note/bill and I don’t think I’ve ever seen one before. Fortuitously, we didn’t even have to go searching for them, as they can be hard to find (obviously, they’re endangered & therefore rare) – they came to us.

A few of the locals dropped in for an evening graze.

After a warm, surprisingly restless night considering the previous day’s efforts it was a leisurely start to the day. Fueled up on porridge and many other snacks (jerky for breakfast? – if you’re going to carry excess food, you may as well eat it) we were on our way. The morning had cooled a fair bit and it was slightly cloudy too – just as well we started with an easy climb to warm us up again. Seemingly in the middle of nowhere, we came across a fair few people just walking along the otherwise deserted road. Rather odd, until we got to a rather small settlement with a marae.

Our gentle climb to start the day, just kept on going and turned out to take us to the highest point of the day – we were done with it within an hour and the road turned back to seal (mostly) for the screaming descent to the Minginui turn-off. And that was the gravel road riding done for the day – things weren’t quite so interesting as we got out of the remoter areas. Actually, things started to look vaguely familiar. When Dad was a dairy management consultant in the Bay in the ’90s, this area was on the outer edges of one of his patches. So when we stopped to talk to local roadies on their Sunday morning rides (not a cafe stop in sight out here), I recognised a fair few place names.

The steelwork of destroyed picnic tables makes for great bike-stands; here at the highest point of the second day – looking back over the Ureweras.

We stopped at this old service station shortly before Murupara to fill water bottles – we’d been warned about the dogs in town, so avoided that.

From Murupara it was a twelve or so kilometre climb up through boring plantation forest with fast-moving traffic into the wind. Definitely not with the pleasure of the previous day’s riding. Still, the closer we got to Rotorua the more familiar things seemed. We started passing places I remember from my first bike tour twenty years ago (crikey) – a school holiday camp.

It was strange seeing Mt Tarawera looming up from a different angle – but all the same, there it was.

We turned off the highway just before Rainbow Mountain and joined the Te Ara Ahi for our final stretch to Rotorua and Steve’s car. Stopping at Lake Okaro (a rather nice little lake I didn’t even know was there – there are many lakes in the area) to finish off the food for lunch, I was surprised that Steve didn’t have a swim. There’s a slim chance he was getting a little tired, but I think it unlikely. Heading west from Waimangu, we bore the brunt of a vigourous westerly – it was awful. But then the cycle trial turned for twenty kilometres of downhill to town – the wind didn’t matter so much then. I don’t recommend that cycle trail – it’s basically a concrete path right next to the highway: dead boring and quite horrible.

At least it was an easy finish to a most excellent adventure – with a bit of luck I’ve opened Steve’s eyes to the possibilities of exploring all sorts of places by bike. We got to Steve’s parents’ place, cleaned up, ate a bit more and filled the car.  Somehow we fitted in three bikes, all our touring luggage, some Christmas presents, two collapsible workshop benches and countless tools.

The Christmas Letter 2015

Looking back at this year, I can safely say it’s worked out better than I imagined it would when, in last year’s Christmas missive, I wrote: “I’ll slowly start looking for a job in the new year, hoping to find one that means I can live in a large town/small city that has easy access to good mountain-biking – I think then there would be a chance I may be able stay still for a while and not spend so much time and money on travelling…”!

As it turns out, I did rather slowly, in fits & starts, look for a job at the beginning of the year. I was rather picky in what I was applying for, so I had plenty of time to spend time with family, ride bikes, visit friends and travel a little around NZ. Highlights before starting a job were:

My first brevet – the Kiwi Brevet – 1150 km of self-supported riding around the top of the beautiful South Island. I was pleased to finish in a few hours short of seven days.

A bit of time in and around Wellington catching up with friends and family – with some bikepacking thrown in to keep the legs happy/wrecked. The photo above from an excellent day’s ride around the coast from Wellington to Martinborough – a spectacular coastline so close to the capital.

A few weeks further up the North Island meant a bit more easy bike touring visiting friends and family, a quick trip over to Sydney to see family (particularly my aging grandfather) and an excellent wedding of family friends over Easter.

Two trips to Westport to visit Adele in her home-for-now were of course filled with plenty of adventure: caving, hiking, and more biking. This picture from the spectacular Old Ghost Road trail – which has since been completed, I’m very much looking forward to riding it in its entirety.

This photo from the other memorable ride from those trips – the Heaphy Track. It’s spectacular! Disappointed not to be able to ride the whole thing due to weather at the first attempt, the two-day Heaphy-Double James & I did was great fun and slightly-epic.

During the second Westport trip I’d secured a job as a process engineer again – it ticked all my most important boxes: in a plant that makes something, a good small city (Napier) to live in, some mountain-biking and a feasible bike-commute. So after quite a few months enjoying staying with Mum & Dad in their new home and exploring the area, I moved north to become a North Islander again.

Just like that I’ve settled into a strangely normal non-wandering life. I’m liking the work (it’s still novel after five months); disturbingly quickly I bought a house; this city is great with its climate, history and beautiful art deco; the local produce and wine is exceptional – along with the Farmers Markets; there is mountain-biking next door to work and plenty of gravel roads to explore in the hills. Much to my surprise, I found Italian language lessons locally – so that’s a complete bonus. I’m still a little amazed it’s worked out this well so far.

Arranging the purchase of my first home-of-my-own and then moving in and furnishing it has taken much of the last few months. Well worth it though – I can have visitors!

A few pictures from around home:

Probably the most astonishing news of my year is that which sees me now own a road bike. It’s great for the commute, but I’m still to be won over for distances longer than that. I only really post it here so Grandad may see it, although I may have left it too late for him to comprehend; not that I’ll ever get to his standard of extreme road adventures.

That’s about my year. Not too much on the horizon for next year (except one ride I signed up for without really considering the consequences of doing so) – still enjoying having a place to call home and not having a great desire to travel some distance at every opportunity. Assuredly, there will be bike adventures to be had and I’m hoping for at least a couple of trips south.

Merry Christmas to all (although I’m struggling to believe it’s actually Christmas) and all the best for the coming year. If it happens to bring you to Napier, get in touch.

Mangatutu Hot Springs Bikepacking Overnighter

Even before I moved to Napier (albeit the day before) I was told of some hot springs up the hills to the west of town. Being at the end of a long gravel road, that it is almost two hours’ drive from home for a relatively short distance hints at the sort of country one must pass through to reach the reward of a hot soak. Any suitable opportunity to go up there and do a bit of hiking was not forthcoming and a quick look at the map had me thinking such a route would make a great bikepacking trip from home.
I wasn’t wrong. After a large Saturday lunch and vaguely remembering where everything camping is supposed to go on my bike, I set off for the hills. Into the foothills on a day of patchy clouds and a cooling (and helpful) southerly, the climbing was modest for thirty-odd kilometres – a good opportunity to get used to a cumbersome loaded bike again. Weekend traffic was light and the views started to stretch further afield.

Loaded up again for, hopefully, another summer of bikepacking adventures.

Progress was steady, as was the climbing and three hours in a plateau at about 600 m was reached. I was surprised to see a reasonably sized school at Patoka, and a golf course at Puketitiri – unfortunately the little school there closed some years ago. I was chased remarkably well by a spirited fox terrier – that thing must have topped thirty kilometres per hour. Thankfully I have no fang marks around my ankles.

It was three-quarters of the trip before the seal ended and the gravel started – mercifully it has been a long time since it was last graded, so the tracks were smooth. There was so little traffic I enjoyed riding on the right hand side of the road as if I was back in the northern hemisphere. In the early evening light, everything started looking even nicer and the Kaweka Ranges came into view.

The road kept dropping down a fair bit before remembering it really should be around 600 m, energy levels dropped accordingly. But I was pleased my legs weren’t really complaining. As I entered the DOC (Dept. of Conservation) land the flowering manuka (tea-tree) stands were staggering. The little white flowers blanketed the hillsides, I’m quite sure I’ve never seen so much manuka in bloom before.

My arrival at the campground at the end of the road was greeted by all sorts of astonishment. They said I was mad for biking all the way in here – “but I built it all the same”. Perhaps I was, but that’s fine as I quickly found a secluded little spot to pitch my tent, cook my dinner and marvel in the beauty of the area and just how fantastic the afternoon was. I was well chuffed with the little adventure.

Water bottles topped up from a steep walk down to the Mohaka River, it was time to reward my muscles with a hot soak. A short walk down the hill from the campground are two small pools which are filled by water flowing down from a spring above. I must have sat in, or half-in, there for a good two hours. The campground was well populated, but not overly so as I imagine it will be in a few days, and there was a steady stream of people to chat to. It was a little strange being treated as a crazy-man/minor celebrity for being the guy that biked all the way in – but everyone was very generous and after a couple of offered drinks I had to start turning them down. The oddest thing was a young guy who went all the way back up the hill to get a cooker so he could have pancakes – hot pool pancakes and ice cream were quality.

After a fitful sleep and a leisurely Sunday morning start to the day, I got to ride down all the hills I’d ridden up (but there were still a reasonable number to ride up) and get chased by the same dog again before returning home twenty-four hours, to the minute, after departing. Such fun!

Double Heaphy

Every so often it’s good to do something a little nuts just to push one’s limits and see if you can do it. Even before we’d finished our previous, somewhat curtailed by the weather, Heaphy attempt I was starting to consider the feasibility of riding the whole trail there and back over two days. As we’d ridden the western (approximate) half of the trail, I thought it was possible to ride that in about four hours with few stops – and that includes the only big climb when riding west to east.

With that in mind, completing the whole trail in a day should be possible while carrying overnight gear and enough food for two big days of riding. James was also up for this challenge – even if it would mean his two biggest days ever on a bike, all the while lugging quite a load. We just had to wait for two consecutive days which had fine weather forecast – two such days we discovered while away in Christchurch. So dashing back from the east coast on Monday, we had just enough time to buy enough food and organise ourselves before an early start on Tuesday.

The weather was definitely clear when we got up at five o’clock – it was the first frost I’ve seen around Westport, and a heavy one at that. We were at the trailhead just after first light to make the most of the daylight hours (you aren’t allowed to ride the trail at night). The morning gradually warmed, but not by much, as we made good time along the beautiful coastal section to Heaphy Hut. There was little time to take photos, so these from the last trip will have to do.

The section of river crossings to Lewis Hut took but half an hour and then the sustained climb to James McKay Hut, after which I’d pegged as a good time for lunch, was upon us. On our previous trip we’d been told of and seen the resting diggers of trail maintenance crews – we were hoping that they’d improved the trail a lot. The top section had been gravelled and was remarkably better and easier going; alas, the middle section was considerably worse having been churned up by the mini-diggers – there was considerable pushing through thick, gloopy and claggy mud. But we stayed on track and made James McKay for lunch.

This was a different view from the hut compared to last time – a lot less distant cloud and more snow.

We pushed on wondering if we’d be quick enough to get to the end of the trail and then return up the sixteen kilometre, eight hundred metre climb to Perry Saddle Hut for the night. While Brown Hut is at the east trailhead and would have been the best location to stay – other practicalities dictated we would stay at Perry Saddle Hut instead. Brown Hut is an older, smaller hut than Perry Saddle and does not have gas stoves and cooking equipment – things we didn’t really want to carry if we didn’t have to.

The section between James McKay and Perry Saddle was different again – there’s a little climbing, but it’s not too onerous as you mostly stay between six- and eight-hundred metres above sea-level. Through some rather pretty, but soggy, parts early on the trail is board-walked – which provides a nice change from hitting rocks often. Passing across the tussocky Gouland Downs was so much more open than most of the riding – we were glad for a lack of wind. There were a couple of small, swift rivers that we waded through as getting cold and wet feet seemed a lot less hassle and quicker than trying to get across wire swing bridges upstream that were not designed with bikes in mind.

The trail got very slick and quite large sections had standing water that was manageable, but constantly sprayed us with water. On the side of the trail were significant patches of frost and snow. The clay got even more slippery as we climbed up to the saddle (about 900 m) and started attaching itself to our bikes. The last few hundred metres up to the hut was very rough, but just rideable after a long day in the saddle. Getting to the hut just after half-past three, we thought it prudent to call it a day, as while we would have easily got down the last sixteen kilometres to the end – we would not have made it back up by dark. Instead, we opted to start early the next day – this also meant that we would do one of the two big climbs on each day. It made the second day over ninety kilometres, leaving not much time for dilly-dallying or other issues, but seemed a good decision.

Finding another new, well-equipped hut we set about getting the coal range going and drying our bike shoes and clothes. The warden was very friendly and the views from the saddle were much better than I imagined those at Brown Hut at the bottom of the next valley would be. We refueled while watching the sun set on the mountains. Early to bed, satisfied with great day’s ride (James particularly so, the 58 km being his biggest day on a bike – so far) – slept pretty well as the hut was pleasantly warm.

It was not so pleasantly warm when we were out the door and scraping the frost off our bikes at first light the next morning. Unfortunately, I suspect due to a more-limited water supply, this hut did not have a bike wash-down set up – if it had have, we would have bothered to hose the mud off after the first day’s ride. Setting off, we found rear cables frozen – James couldn’t change gear, I had no operational rear brake and my gear shifter was also stuck. It was a gentle climb to start up to the trail’s highest point, Flanagan’s Corner, and left in my easiest gear I was soon spinning out.

That was all sorted out with a drenching of water while we dealt to bigger problems on James’s bike. The Heaphy sure is hard on bikes, particularly chains, with all the mud and grit that flicks up in to drivetrains and brakes. Suddenly, James had no chain – it having come apart. Trying to fix that in the semi-dark with chilled fingers was no fun; once we could see what was going on, the best solution seemed to be installing an eight-speed powerlink on the ten-speed chain. Not ideal, but it worked and it was a lot easier than mucking around with a chain-breaker in the gloom and cold.

We’d hardly got going again when James had that sinking feeling that comes from a puncture – damn. It wasn’t a great start to the day considering the tight schedule we running. That all fixed, we didn’t want to tempt fate and so took it rather easily down to the end of the trail. A nice wide trail, with enough rocks to keep it interesting had us gradually dropping – mercifully, it wasn’t nearly as cold in amongst the trees as I feared. We had occasional glances of the Aorere Valley and the surrounding ranges. For a long time, I’ve not seen a harder frost than the one that greeted us on the valley floor – for that reason, and the extra time we took to descend, we didn’t hang around. Turning at the parking lot, it was straight back into the climb.

The rivers were crystal clear, but on such a chilly morning not at all inviting.

With a nice trail surface and a rather gentle gradient (pretty constant at five percent), we made good time back up to the saddle – only really stopping for a couple of fallen trees and a short snack. As we had to repack our gear (we hadn’t been silly enough to take all our sleeping gear and food to Brown Hut and back) anyway, we had an early lunch while trying to offer V-brake advice to the ranger.

Departing at noon, I thought we would just get through the sixty kilometres by dark as we’d previously averaged just under 10 km/hr riding the same trail in the opposite direction and gaining nine hundred metres of altitude. So with a big net altitude loss, we should be OK without having to push the limits too much. Turns out I was right, we made good time – there was even a bit of time for snapping some photos, chatting to various people: another bikepacker from Yorkshire, our hut companions from Perry Saddle, and the trail builders (although I did embarrassingly get stuck in my clips & fell on a tricky stream crossing right in front of them – getting a little tired).

The wet trail glinting in the early-afternoon sun before the slippery descent onto Gouland Downs.

Looking out over the downs.

As James pointed out, sections of the bush looked a little like giant bonsai trees.

A rather pretty little stream.

Back at sea-level we were on the home stretch – but the Heaphy decided to have one more go at writing James’s drivetrain off – the little chain guides completely ruined. Make sure you’re well covered for spares and mechanical nous on this route – it does at times feel remarkably remote, probably because it is. Also we were back on familiar and faster trails – we almost got back to the car without needing headlamps – donning them only for the last descent from Kohaihai Saddle, as it was very dark under the trees.

I finally bothered to get a photo of one of these signs – the likes of which I’ve never seen on a mountain-bike trail before.

So, it turns out that the Heaphy double is entirely possible over two days – admittedly we had two clear, sunny, almost-windless days – even with a relatively novice bikepacker (having remarkable determination – he says stubbornness – helps). I was pleased to see the whole trail, after missing out ten days prior, and James was excited by conquering the challenge – the second day of ninety-plus kilometres blowing his previous longest day on the bike out of the water.

A great trail through such varied and remote landscape – fully deserving of its “epic” classification in the latest version of the Kennet Brothers’ Classic NZ MTB Rides. Thoroughly recommended; obviously, just going one-way over two days would be more enjoyable and enable more appreciation of the scenery.