Since moving to Hawke’s Bay near on four years ago, I’ve heard much of the long-established Triple Peaks event. It seemed to have a reputation as a punishing race (MTB or run) climbing three peaks (obviously) near Havelock North. As two of the peaks are on private land, this event is one of the few chances to ride all three. I fairly regularly ride up Te Mata Peak and had been fortunate enough to ride up Mt Erin with a group – which just left the tallest, Mt Kahuranaki, for me to check out.
Unfortunately the weather had been dire the previous two years, and with the Tukutuki River running too high the reserve course had to be used – removing Kahuranaki from the event. One of those years it was so wet, Mt Erin was removed too and the race just went up a very slippery Te Mata three times. Keen to see new places, I’ve always reserved my entry until the weather forecast was likely to allow exploring of somewhere new. This year was finally that time; I entered a few days beforehand.
The days leading up to race day were dry, so the river was low and the A-course was good to go. A little rain overnight before the start greased things up just a bit. It had been a long time since I’d done an actual race, and I certainly wasn’t in anything resembling race-mode (whatever that is) – I’d chosen my bikepacking bike and left the frame bag on so I could carry plenty of food for the fifty kilometres, which I hoped would take me about four to four and a half hours. I found a spot near the middle of the field as 120-odd riders waited for the seven-thirty start.
That wasn’t a great idea, I should back myself more, as climbing gently out of town on seal I eased past many people on much bigger bikes – bringing numerous comments about a motor being hidden in my frame bag. I was in no rush as we started the climb of Mt Erin on farm tracks. It certainly was greasy and at times, with the particular tyres I had, it was easier to get off and run through sections of mud and slop. At least I wasn’t on a cyclocross bike – that looked miserable.
Suddenly the track we had been following ended and the course had us carrying and pushing bikes up steep, slippery grass slopes. I wasn’t quite expecting this level of hike-a-bike, but without luggage my bike seemed very light – another bright side. Settling into the adventure, I admired the view over the Heretaunga Plains as it opened up.
There was a camera, so I got back on my bike.
I stopped longer to admire the view, and found the doctor to snap a picture of this close-to-home adventure.
The music emanating from near the transmission tower drew us closer. I may have stopped a while longer to listen a bit.
Just your average piper and drummer on top of a hill at eight-thirty on a Saturday morning as scores of people rode and ran past.
Off Mt Erin on a rigid bike was just brutal. The tracks were rough enough, but crossing steep paddocks threw me all around and slowed me – plenty of people passed me. But that was only ten minutes of bouncing about before a winding trail through some riverside scrub led to the river crossing. With the Tukituki only knee-high, it was a fairly easy carry and rather nice to cool off a little. Through the aid station I’d no need to pause before a short section of road and farm track led to the bottom of Kahuranaki.
I was surprised when Shaun, a colleague and much stronger rider than me, caught up to me and chatted for a bit – surely he was well ahead of me. I’d not recognised him bent over repairing a flat at the bottom of Mt Erin. Climbing around the back of Kahuranaki was a steady gradient of ten percent, the surface was mostly good and I made steady progress. Nearing the summit, loud tunes were blasting down from a huge sound system – this was certainly motivating and took one’s mind off the climb. Cloud rolled in and it got quite misty very briefly, I enjoyed what of the view I could see. Only just below the summit did the hike-a-bike start, picking one’s way through boulders strewn down the slope.
Another camera, time to hold onto mine and get back on the bike.
With a last scramble up to the trig and a tentative carry off the very peak, it was more bumpy crossing of pasture before finally reaching a well-maintained track. The descent turned fast and wild. Forty-one minutes up, thirteen down. It was fantastic fun; made somewhat exciting on the bi-directional part of the course where some people couldn’t grasp the concept of keeping left. Never mind, it was exhilarating weaving at pace through those hardly moving.
Through the river aid-station again, it was encouraging to hear a couple of familiar voices cheering above the rather loud drums (not of the highland variety). Another familiar face was a marshall at a point halfway across flatter farmland. It is nice to see such people unexpectedly in the middle of events. A stretch of quiet dead-end road had us continuing our route paralleling the river, before we turned away and sharply rose through another farm. More ten percent gradient and more pushing.
Back on the bike, we approached the final peak, Te Mata, from the opposite side to that which I am used to. Some familiar spots led to the Back Track, which is normally walking only. Well, going up, it was still walking only. More of a goat track, it was narrow and numerous switchbacks led up the steep slope. It was easy enough to push up it, but at almost twenty percent it was not a climb I’d be riding up anytime soon – I’d definitely not be able to negotiate the corners. I was happy with my progress and energy levels still, every so often I’d haul someone else in and then expect them to pass me on the descents – they didn’t anymore.
With time for a brief drink at the top, familiar trails beckoned me back to town and the finish. Still bumpy on MTB trails, I held on and pointed down. Thankfully we didn’t have to survive the original MTB track – there would have been significant carnage. Instead, flying down the road for a bit, we hit the flowy trails to Chambers Walkway, a brief bit of road and then some more singletrack before the final road section. To my surprise I still had plenty left to pedal hard and get back in four hours and eight minutes.
Even more startling was that I’d got home in tenth place in a field of a hundred and twenty. I wasn’t really expecting that, and perhaps should have not faffed around so much with photos and admiring the view. Never mind, it was a great morning out on the bike seeing new places and views. With far more hike-a-bike than expected, it certainly was a challenging ride – but I loved it and was proper impressed by such a well-run and iconic local event. Definitely worth the wait.
The gravel road in, and the track up to the diggings on the left, Mt Kyeburn on the far right.
Looking back only a little way up, the Rock and Pillar Range in the distance.
I contemplated the ride up here, knowing what the ski was like.
Rather a cute little hut; waiting, I tidied the hut a little, soaked in the sun and view and took photos of my bike posing.
This is fairly representative of much of the remaining trail up – a bit different with no snow!
West over Oteake Conservation Park – plenty more tracks to explore.
Looking over the Maniototo again, the track I’d come up and Buster Diggings on the right.
Climbing, climbing…
Almost there, the track I would follow down can just be seen curling away to the left at the bottom of the scree.
The long since dug diggings a more obvious scar on the tussock slopes from up here.
Bike needed another breather.
Looking over to St Mary’s Range and time to descend!
The track dropping away from me to cross the Kyeburn and meet Dansey’s Pass Road.
Glimpses of the Pacific could just be made out.
Finally down to the Kyeburn.
This crossing I couldn’t keep my feet from being anything but soaked. So why not just stand in the rushing water for a while admiring things?
After surprising the family for Christmas last year, I skived off for a few days of Central Otago bikepacking. It was brilliant and I’m looking forward to revisiting some of my route, and more, shortly.
Adele joined me for a memorable, fairly big, hilly and hot day on the Old Dunstan Trail. 
Local bikepacking trips were fairly scarce, this one south of Havelock North sticks in the mind for the insane mud.
Further south, the Number 8 Wired route was a blinder. One easy day of gravel roads and hills.
And one tough day getting to the coast and back – significant hike-a-bike, rugged trails and battling into a warm NWer all the way home.
The hills west of Gisborne did whet the appetite with some stunning rural scenery and riding.
Just before reaching Opotiki and ending that painful (favouring my left knee led problems in my other foot and barely being able to walk for two weeks – I got better) ride, I met some other bikepackers that took me back to Rotorua and snapped this last photo of my trusty Surly.
I thoroughly enjoyed the continuing Geyserland Gravel Grind series of bikepacking events based out of Rotorua again this year – I lined up for five in total. For the Mini-, Pete leant me his spare bike. 
I liked it so much, I promptly test-rode and ordered the latest model. Here it is, unusually, unloaded – it’s certainly lighter than I was used to for bikepacking. I’m looking forward to just as many good trips and memories.
All ready for a few days away; having all one’s luggage stolen has an advantage in getting newer, improved gear.
Finally I made it down south for one of Adele’s birthday trips. A thoroughly enjoyable week of skiing, family, friends and beautiful Otago scenery. I finally got ski-touring with a super-fun day up and down Mt Kyeburn.
The first big climb in Montana.
Avoiding wildfires was a regular consideration.
The fire reroute turned out golden – with another long downhill.
We made it above the cloud, I climbed a mountain! That excitement was only tempered by the descent hammering my quads and being reduced to a hobble for the following week.
The Classic Geyserland Gravel Grind was a nostalgic trip back to the Bay of Plenty and many places I went while growing up nearby and on my first bike tours.
With the rain, and then the tight schedule, my camera stayed away most of the day. This only goes to show how the inside of my legs were filthy, while the out-side of my socks stayed bright.
Josh probably contemplating how much he’ll have to wait for me as the day progresses. A brief stop for a snack at the shelter I slept in the previous time I was here.
There are quite a few photos from Josh where he’s obviously waiting for me!