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Bell Rock & Tiwhanui

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With a recent foray into small trail runs, I started looking for a suitable day to finally get up to Bell Rock. It’s notoriously windy up there, the kind of wind where people my size struggle to stand up. Liking to stay near the ground when running, I patiently waited for a clear day (the views are one of the drawcards) with little wind.

After a week of wintry weather, and while the first park run in months tired me out, I was not wasting a glorious Saturday afternoon. Quite a drive later, I was at the trailhead rather counting on that I’d get back before dark. Only three kilometres out, the trail starts with a steep, rooty and slippery section through native bush. I was slow enough not to injure myself, before emerging onto the ridge – the sheltered side it turned out.

Those hills on the coast became more familiar the following day.

Longer, tussocky grass surrounded and then turned into the route. In the shaded parts of the undulations snow lingered from two days before. That was negotiated slowly, but without incident before a climb over the ridge put me into the wind. I’m glad I chose a stiller day – it was very blowly, and just warm enough to linger without extra layers chatting to a few other daytrippers.

As expected, the views were expansive and I thoroughly enjoyed picking out roads and hills I’d ridden, all the while helping to further piece the jigsaw of Hawke’s Bay together.

The northern face of the Kawekas, with some rare snow.

North over the Mohaka and stretching towards Whirinaki.

Mahia Peninsula in the background, must get back there.

Yup, more hills.

Turning, I followed the ridge line all the way back to the road and then that to the car. Fantastic little run, I await a few spare hours and the weather coinciding again.

After liaising with farmers for access across three farms to reach my favourite Hawke’s Bay views for this year’s HBAT, Sunday was the day to scout it out. The first farm was a bit of a long shot, and is not really necessary for the route – but it would add variety. I also suspect I’d be roundly cursed – the other two farms are steep enough, this was another level. Having said that, it was absolutely brilliant – steep climbs on mostly-dry grassed tracks, frequent views of so many Hawke’s Bay landmarks, remote and deserted as far as people went (the stock were numerous, and mystified).

Partway up the first climb, looking down on the farmhouse; Cape Kidnappers on the horizon.

My path was level, briefly – but still surrounded by hills.

Welcoming party to another farmhouse, now unused, and with no road access. Private beach is pretty good, but.

Fair warning of the start of the next climb.

I missed a track turning left and when I realised, it made more sense to just forge ahead on the track I was on and get back on route. Sure it was hilly, but how hard could eight hundred metres be. I need the hike-a-bike practice after all.

I found myself atop cliffs earlier than expected.

They may have been subsiding a little; looking toward Wairoa.

That’s the way I was heading, after the summit.

Those twelve kilometres only took two hours. Eight hundred metres of climbing, with a fair bit of descent (some of that also hike-a-bike), was a solid start to the day’s loop. Napier just visible in the centre, the three peaks behind Havelock North also just there.

One of the reasons I love being up there.

There starts a screaming descent on a not too-rough, but hardly smooth, farm track. Most enjoyable, especially as everything had dried out after the week’s rain.

A few more, littler, hills.

Bell Rock is up in the cloud covered hills.

Out of the farms, that was a fraction of the distance for the day. I only had to continue battling the northerly briefly before turning to have it at my back. After a late lunch at my most-frequented country store, I ambled up Darky’s Spur as shadows lengthened. A single motorbike passed me before I hit the seal, crossed the highway, found the gravel again for some lovely ridge riding before the plunge back to sea level and my car. Gracious hospitality at the first farmhouse had many bike and travel stories shared; they thought I was nuts, but it’s all relative – they’d also seen people biking the Canning Stock Route, that sounds far more nuts to me.

around home, bikes, city, GPS, NZ

Napier Hill During Lockdown

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As we get used to what will be normal for a month-plus, I kept my weekend ride local – staying on the hill on familiar streets less than two kilometres from home. I’m rather pleased I do live on a hill, as there’s plenty of climbing to be found out my front door. What’s more, it was a glorious early autumn Sunday afternoon – generally sunny, with a gentle southerly not letting things heat up.

With the country in lockdown, the biggest change I’ve noticed locally has been the peacefulness without the suburban traffic. Riding every street on the hill was even more enjoyable without thinking too much of the traffic. Plenty of people were out walking and biking whilst keeping in their bubbles, many looking rather bemused by the whole situation. A bit different to my usual weekend rides, but thoroughly enjoyable with a variety of expansive views, a neighbourhood with a wide variation of architecture and plenty of trees.

Might not do this again for another couple of years, but it was good to find a better route this time – taking five kilometres off, while still covering all the streets on the hill. It did give me other ideas for exercise close to home, although it’ll take a while for my legs to be good for anything besides cycling on hills.

Cape Kidnappers from the end of my street.

Guess I won’t be downtown for
a while, from a little further back up my street.

Those three houses always catch my eye from afar.

Looking back towards my little corner of the hill.

There’s still a little bit of work for these tugs…

The cliffs I was on top of last week above the container ship.

Go get it!

Got it.

Over Ahuriri fuel storage, the estuary, and Poraiti towards the Kaweka Ranges.

Those cliffs.

A touch of the old sawtooth warehouses.

Indeed.

around home, bikes, GPS

Farewell day-ride

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With lockdown impending, but not yet announced, painting the entrance to my house could well wait until a day I couldn’t get out and enjoy some favourite local gravel roads. Riding solo and with no time constraints, I could take my time enjoying things that I might not see again for some time. Over two-thirds of a mild, autumnal day was on gravel and there were plenty of hills to spin or charge up – as the mood took me.

The mast year seems to have also manifested itself in a proliferation of roadside blackberries, as has become normal for the last two months I had to ensure I didn’t spend too long feasting on the sweet, juicy delights – I may not have made it back to my car, or I may have made myself ill, possibly both.

Starting to look like the season is changing on Waipunga Rd, looking west to the Maungaharuru Range and the saddle we rode over the previous weekend.

Down Darky’s Spur; twenty kilometres of gravel about to end, no vehicles to be seen on those.

At my favourite local country store, more favourites were consumed for the upcoming climbs – steak pie, chocolate milkshake and salt and vinegar crisps. The highway had a little traffic, the northerly I’d been riding into all morning was still gentle enough.

Off the main road and the seal for another twenty kilometres, the climbing to my favourite views of Hawke Bay commenced with, again, no traffic and the breeze helping me a little.

The northern reaches of the bay, around to Mahia Peninsula. Pleased to have such clear views.

Across to Napier and around to Cape Kidnappers, not quite as clear.

Approaching the high point of the road, the wind really started to get up and kindly pushed me up some steeper gradients. The formed road ended, twenty minutes of unformed road took me to the trig and my turning point.

East, to South America somewhere out there.

Across the Waikare and Mohaka River mouths north.

As good a place as any to turn and head to ride the same hills in the reverse direction, and more resupply at Tutira.

I certainly knew all about that wind riding into it, but it was there to be enjoyed and appreciated – and really not all that bad.

Part-way up the only more-concerted climb to get back to the highway.

Back to the store for the last time in a while, nothing else for it but to buy another pie, milkshake and ice cream. They were the appetiser for even more blackberries through Waikoau and up the Spur. The heavy corrugations were more apparent on the long downhill run of Waipunga, all part of the fun and to be attacked with still no traffic around.

More signs of autumn across the Esk Valley; funnily enough, the dry conditions haven’t been in the news as much recently.

Returning to find my little car, what a great day’s outing not thinking of all that’s going on and instead enjoying a perfect day savouring hills, quiet roads, open spaces, food, and the sun and wind on my face – with plenty of pauses to take it all in. As always, looking forward to getting back out there and piecing more of the Hawke’s Bay jigsaw of hills, waterways and various land uses together.

Bonus sunset to top the day off.

around home, bikes, friends, GPS, NZ

Te Wae Wae Loop

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An offer of riding through a farm and potentially cutting a significantly nasty part of highway out of HBAT could not be ignored for long. With the forecast looking only a little rainy, phone calls were made and a plan hatched. Marek signed up at the last minute, possibly I hadn’t fully explained what he was getting into, I finally broke twenty minutes at Park Run this year and we were off driving north.

Ten o’clock was a leisurely time to start what could be a very tough day ride; familiar sealed road and favourite views helped to warm us on a mild morning. Thankfully my legs weren’t hurting too much. Turning onto Pohokura Rd, I was looking forward to the long gravelled climb through farmland and native bush.

There was actually some rain overnight, odd to see a wet road – it kept the dust away and only slowed us slightly.

This feels like it should be the top, but it’s not.

Looking forward even more so to finding what’s at the end of the road – rather than turning onto Waitara Rd as on previous trips.

Quickly losing five hundred metres of elevation was only slowed by constantly stopping to take in the changing view of all the hills in their various uses.

There I go, looking even smaller than is usual.

A brief level section for the final plunge to the Mohaka.

Heading into the valley which would take us an hour to traverse from left to right and climb out of. The Mohaka running across the shot from left to centre, the Te Hoe joining it from the background. We were due to climb that grassy face in the middle-distance, far right of shot.

It really was looking a steep climb away from the Te Hoe.

Crossing the Mohaka, looking west and upstream.

I guessed at which track to take off the side of the road, and guessed correctly. It quickly closed in with gorse and blackberry encroaching ever further.

Down on the river flats, the track was gone.

Giving up on the track, we turned towards the river for the shortest possible push through the dense thicket of willow saplings. No derailleurs were harmed, thankfully.

Beyond the foliage, we could easily spy the dozer track that we were to take up the face.

Having been told that the best place to cross was five hundred metres up from the confluence, I was pleased the flats were rideable. Hearing a yell from Ian, but not seeing him, we rode upstream.

Finally I spied a quad bike and two people over the river. With much yelling and little comprehension we found a good place to cross the swift, but thankfully low (droughts are good for something it seems), river.

Safely on the left bank, it was great to meet Ian and his friend Brian. Still very sprightly at over eighty, the yelling continued due to some deafness. Introductions aside, we discussed the best way to get out of the valley – we opted for the shorter, steep dozer track. Next time, it’d be good if it could be the longer route – different views and all that.

Ian led us across a bog and towards the steepness.

Averaging over fifteen percent, it was at times much steeper. I managed to ride the first third, but was constantly stopping to take in the expanding panorama. I’m glad it was dry, or else the whole ascent would have been a slippery push.

Te Kooti’s Lookout just right of centre.

West up the Mohaka.

As well as having people guiding us through and opening and closing gates for us, I thoroughly enjoyed the enthusiastic telling of stories of the land. From the struggles of the early settlers (the land broke them), to Te Kooti’s lookout and stronghold during the Land Wars and eventually the development of a sustainable farm. Now six hundred acres of the property is covenanted native bush and I’d love to get back, explore some more and see some of the huge native trees Ian spoke of.

Generously we were welcomed in for a hearty meal of mince on toast (thanks Carolyn), all the while being regaled further with stories of the farm, the area, the other farms (up near where I’d met son Ian a fortnight previous) and the large family. Bikepacking stories were offered up, but didn’t seem quite as interesting to me. Bellies full, we did eventually go on our way.

By no means was our climbing done, as the near landscape soon turned to forestry – although often affording glimpses of ranges further away.

My game of “how far away is Panekiri?” continued – a bit further away this time.

This certainly was a decent climb, but it did plateau before another fast descent again to the Mohaka. The gravel ended for the day. Nearing the river, unusually a helicopter started buzzing around – Marek pointed out it was the rescue chopper, not a good sign.

Pausing at the Willowflat bridge, the river was low and we marvelled at the size of some of the boulders deposited in the flow.

Willowflat was larger than I expected – that is, there were a few houses and actually people around. But my, the climb up to Kotemaori keeps on giving – steep and steady, it just keeps going. Thankfully, our very pleasant riding conditions held and it wasn’t too hot. Worryingly, a lit police pick-up passed us. I’d plenty of time to wait at the first false summit, so proceeded to devour handfuls of ripe blackberries while wondering about the Mohaka Rafting vehicle parked up – ostensibly for cell coverage. Ridge riding commenced (up and down) and seventy kilometres and two thousand metres of climbing in, my waits grew longer – but that just left more time to savour the scenery, blackberries and a staggeringly spectacular day of riding.

Looking over towards the early part of the route.

Back on the highway, cruising down that section to Waikare Gorge is so much better and safer than the grovel up in the opposite direction. With a final few hundred metres to climb, I pushed on – rather enjoying how the hills around here are becoming more familiar and fitting together in my mind more and more. Back to the car, I had plenty of time for a cuppa with its guardians for the day – more tales of local farming history, and bike trips. Bliss; once again, I’m already scheming on bigger rides to further explore another area of the region that in a few short hours proved utterly captivating.

Unfortunately, Graham confirmed that there had been a drowning on the river, which explained all the unusual activity – sad news indeed, but also helps to appreciate wonderful days of being alive and outside.

Also, must get back to Ridgemount…

Thanks to Marek for nine of the photos above and being such a sport on a tough day’s riding; also thanks to Ian and Carolyn for being so welcoming to their special part of Hawke’s Bay.