Category Archives: friends

around home, bikepacking, bikes, friends, NZ, snow

Not-Working Central North Island Fun

1 Comment

Not working full-time started with a flurry of activity over two weeks. Leaving Pan Pac after six years, that fitted in with the main motivation for resigning – having far more time to be outside and spend with family and friends.

Things kicked off immediately with finally, after vague mention over years, a day skiing at Ruapehu with very-recently former-workmate James. A couple of years since I’d been on skis, it was thoroughly enjoyable to be out on the snow. With a decent dump earlier in the week, the snow and skiing was good. A wee bit rusty, I was pleased not to fall – nor pop a shoulder, a near thing when an errant t-bar sprang back and caught my supposed good arm and put me all in a tangle.

Above the clouds most of the day, it got uncomfortably warm early afternoon. We called it a day early as cloud rolled in and visibility was soon gone.

Bit of a rush back to Hawke’s Bay to arrive on time to finally see the much-Covid-postponed presentation by Mark and Hana of their four-year bikepacking trip from Alaska to Patagonia. While I was familiar with the adventure from following them online, hearing the stories firsthand and seeing the photos on a cinema screen gave a much greater appreciation of their travels. While the photos look impressive on my laptop (a good selection in this article), they were phenomenal with a 4K projector – quite astounding. Excellent evening, thanks to Hana and Mark for travelling up and Andrew for persevering with organising.

There wasn’t enough time to show our guests some Hawke’s Bay bikepacking, but Ricko did manage a great morning tour of Havelock North, Te Mata Peak and surrounds on mountain bikes.

Some of us did find time for a hastily organised and short overnighter to Waipatiki Beach just north of Napier. Even taking the long way around on one of my favourite local gravel roads, it’s only three hours there. Plenty of time to appreciate the evening light, cook dinner and natter before dossing down in the “closed” (Covid?) lounge.

A quick trip over the stream to the beach on leaving the campground.

Brent and Pete negotiating the only place I know to reliably find mud in Hawke’s Bay – on the old bridle path to Aropaoanui Rd.

Heading into the strange sun-mist mix that soon burnt off.

In no time we were back in town for morning tea and coffee with more of the usual HB bikepacking cohort. That may have been a sub-twenty hour overnighter – still brilliant but.

After a day of doing some of the more boring things I should be doing packing up a house, I headed over to Taupo (finally) for a few days of mountain-bike exploring and staying with friends Debbie and Emma. An overcast afternoon on a soggy W2K trail soon brightened and I enjoyed the out-and-back as the views improved. I was taken aback to be recognised as I was hosing off my filthy bike, nice to bump into and catch up with Brian (Wellington) from this year’s GSB.

Joining a different Tuesday night run group gave a nice change of scene, but I’m unsure my legs were impressed with doing intervals. Wednesday held a “recovery” ride with Emma and Debbie at Craters. Trails had dried out by then and it soon became apparent that it wasn’t recovery pace. Much fun riding further out in the park than I had previously, especially on the long relatively gentle downhill Megalicious – plenty of easy jumps that even I could land properly.

Timing of the Taupo sojourn was dictated by the eventual screening (more Covid postponements) of South – the Tour Te Waipounamu film. While I’d shown this excellent account of the race (mine here, not so excellent) to a few groups of friends earlier in the year, I was eagerly awaiting seeing it on a big screen – plus I’d also offered to join Pete for the Q&A session following each screening. It did not disappoint and it was interesting to hear the reactions of a wider audience; we got some good questions too, and hopefully added to the evening.

Somewhere in there, a plan was hatched for me to join Pete and Fay on the first night of three training for next year’s TTW. Bikepacking hadn’t figured in my hasty packing for this week away, but with the generosity of friends just enough gear was cobbled together and affixed to my bike.

Well, this is different. First time using a Freeload rack, I rate it with rear suspension.

From the Waihaha Rd end, Pete and I rode into Waihaha Hut over a couple of hours. The drizzle lessened soon after setting off and that was the end of wearing a jacket for the trip.

Not a promising start and I wondered if my little car would make it up the hill and out of the wet paddock.

Views of the lake lacking a bit.

Tieke Falls on the Waihaha River.

The trail was soaked, but with a firm base the riding was not difficult. Once the rain had stopped, it was nice to take our time stopping often at viewpoints and with much chat along the way. Crossing the road, the modest ascent to the hut began – including a bit of pushing on a section that was just a bit wet, rutted and technical for a loaded bike with a balding rear tyre (Taupo certainly showed that tyres that are fine in dry Hawke’s Bay are not so elsewhere).

These bridges are so much easier when there’s a wooden deck!

Flattening out a bit, great riding through the native bush.

Waihaha Hut – finally made it after fourteen or so years thinking I must ride there one day.

Shortly after arriving dry at the hut, it started tipping down. This about the time Fay was setting off from the carpark – she arrived fairly soaked. A pleasant hut evening catching up and discussing TTW preparations and Fay’s upcoming event. The rain didn’t let up overnight, but had by the time I set off for the car – leaving the others to their all-day hike-a-bike training. The return only took a couple of hours, and with a bit more visibility, I stopped to look at different things.

A bit more water around.

Some more of the lake today.

Back at the car, I ditched my overnight gear and, as the sky cleared, set off north to the end of the trail at a landing on Waihora Bay. With a lighter bike and the trail surface muddy (firm volcanic base still underneath), I had a grand time sliding around corners, getting soaked from the regular splashes and seeing what was around the next corner. Crossing an impressive slot canyon, it was tight and twisty down to the lake for a brief snack – the return wasn’t as difficultly steep as feared.

Legs of two halves.

Back into town to clean-up, pack and say farewell it was then off to Rotorua for a weekend of much time with close friends and a little bit of riding. It’s a little odd, considering how good and plentiful it is, that riding was very much the secondary consideration there. As always, there was a new trail to try; this time Roger showed me Te Poaka – another long downhill with plenty of fun to be had on small jumps. I can see it would be easy to get up well too much speed, even at my pace some of the trees were getting alarmingly close.

Some recent felling has really opened up the Lake Rotorua view from this part of the Forest Loop.

Tarawera – still up there as a most-special place for me.

More riding (so many kids!) and a fork bought for next-bike Sunday morning, the trip down memory lane was strong then catching up with more former Pan Pac workmates over in Papamoa.

Twas not a bad place to grow up.

bikes, friends, MTB, national park, NZ

Classic Ruapehu District rides

Leave a comment

Getting wind of Anton’s planned weekend away mountain biking some classic trails near Ruapehu, it wasn’t long before I’d signed up/invited myself along. It had been a very long time since I’d been on a mountain biking weekend away, but I was keen to ride some of these trails relatively unloaded and on a squishy bike for a change.

First up, thirteen of us piled into the shuttle to the start of the Bridge to Nowhere trail on a misty and wet morning. Thankfully the heavy rain overnight had ceased. In hindsight, there was plenty of time to have ridden the thirty-four kilometres from Raetihi to the trailhead and I’d have enjoyed that more than a stuffy bus – but I was trying to be at least a little social and fit in, already feeling like a curiosity for not carrying a pack, having small bags strapped to my bike and generally enthusing too much about riding far on a loaded bike.

This is different.

First up, an easy climb for half an hour; the surface was pleasingly good.

Sitting around 600 m altitude for a while, we passed the Kaiwhakauka junction – from here on, I’d ridden on the Tour Aotearoa five years before. This time I was not nearly as tired, or contemplating such a big day. At the Mangapurua Trig after an hour, it was all downhill more or less to the river.

The quarter of an hour dropping four hundred metres to the stream was the best riding of the weekend for me. Chasing and then leading Dan (a fellow ex-NZ Steel graduate who I’d not seen for over twelve years) down the slippery (papa mud is notorious) double track at speed just on the right side of control was excellent. Being much slighter than Dan, I had to work hard to keep up with his momentum; the whole descent was grin-inducing with only the occasional two wheel slides around some of the sharper corners. So. Much. Fun.

Regrouping at one of the small shelters, the misty drizzle set in. Continuing while chatting about bikepacking (again, eyeroll) to Dan we were just cruising. That is until we were passed and I realised we were wasting a good downhill. Unfortunately I timed picking my speed up with one of the big holes we had been warned about. I managed to avoid it, but fell in the process and was fortunate not to be run over. I got off lightly with only a bruised and scraped knee and a sore wrist – along with being somewhat covered in mud, now slower and with my ego taking a hit.

The trail seemed in excellent condition and rounding slips and bluffs was far less precarious than I remembered. We were at the Bridge in no time, close to an hour and a half before we were to meet the jet boat. Plenty of time to linger and appreciate the bush and remoteness; until the rain set in again, that is, and we moseyed down to the shelter above the landing.

Yup, to nowhere.

All loaded up for the forty minutes down the river, just missing something.

A few kayakers coming to join us at the landing for a bit.

Eventually we got on the boat…

The rain really set in and it could have been a miserable trip down to Pipiriki. But I was just warm and protected enough that I could still enjoy and appreciate the incredible Whanganui River and its dense surrounds – majestical. Alas, no photos worth sharing with so much water flying around.

Loading the bikes again, wet and muddy we did a number on the bus interior for the tortuous trip to the northern trailhead of the Old Coach Rd. Unloading at Horopito the northerly was very strong and strangely chilly – but once moving, it did blow us quickly along the open part of the trail before we entered the bush. Another excellent trail, and being the old road for horse drawn coaches between two railheads gradually converging to form the North Island Main Trunk, it was well made. Heading in this direction was definitely faster than bikepacking in the opposite one, so less time to savour it and read all the historical signs.

A few planks would do it?

Everyone, that I heard, rated the trail very highly and at only an hour of riding twas a great end to a day out in the elements. Mountain Kebabs downed in Ohakune, forty minutes took us back to Raetihi in fading light and then dark. Noting the propensity of mountain bikers to wear mostly black and not carry lights, I was happy to play lantern rouge at the back in my bright green top and with a couple of blinky lights. I did have to find another dinner at the only option in the village, so I must have done some work – but with only sixty kilometres and little climbing in the legs for the day, it can’t have been much. After the murky and atmospheric day through some remote sections of the North Island, it was a contented and subdued group at the house that night.

Sunday I was excited to return to the 42nd Traverse – the first big, backcountry ride I ever did way back in 2005 and when I met some good riding buddies. Well, it seemed a big, remote adventure back then when I was much less experienced, bikes were far less rideable and reliable, and there was a lot less trail beta out there. That first time it was a whole-day undertaking, but I returned three years later and found it only took two and a half hours with one other. I did remember big ruts and holes, and tough long climbs…

Starting at 900 m, the drizzle quickly had us very wet and muddy – but it was warm. Route finding was much easier – there are trail markers now, who’d have thought? We passed a few vehicles coming back from a morning hunt, the surface was very good. Gone were all the big obstacles; sure, it was damp and possibly slippery – but all easily rideable. An hour of gradual downhill and we were then able to rip down the steeper descent – nothing too wild and more good fun. The seven of us were of a similar pace all day so there was little waiting around, it worked well.

Food time at the halfway point, not the whole reason for a big smile – a good wee adventure in progress.

The only walking section of the whole route. Seeing this, jackets came off despite it still raining – it was that warm.

I’m unsurprised that the climbs weren’t nearly as bad as they seemed over a decade ago – I may be a bit more used to hills. Still eight hundred metres in forty-five kilometres is some climbing. I was just happy to be able to keep pedalling as my gear shifting was playing up; time to replace jockey wheels it turns out. The rain ceased and the afternoon started to clear and warm – in time for the climbing of course. The native forest was far denser and more impressive than I remembered; another fun little ride done as we overcame the wet, wheel-sucking gravel into Owhango.

Completing the vehicle shuffle, we loaded up, said our goodbyes and headed home. A very unusual weekend of biking for me – far more time and distance spent in transit between rides (only rode 110 km all up) than I am used to, I found it a bit weird. But never mind, it enabled riding of some excellent routes with a great crew. Thanks to Anton for an incredible job of organising the whole weekend and marshalling us all – no mean feat.

Finally got to see the mountains we’d been playing in the shadow of all weekend when we stopped in Taupo on the way home for an early dinner.

Strange seeing my under-utilised mountain bike lightly loaded – before it got filthy.

bikepacking, bikes, event, friends, GPS, NZ

GSB21-7: Ranfurly to Tekapo

Leave a comment

Two hundred and twenty kilometres left of the course, it was identical to my last twenty hours of GSB19. So no surprises to be had, and although it was a far longer distance than any day I’d ridden that week – with only two small (in comparison) passes, good surfaces all day, the southerly still blowing well and simply knowing I have and can ride such days – I was wondering if we’d get to the finish. However it was interesting to hear the talk of riding buddies throughout the day – general consensus was that it would be nice to camp approaching the last pass and enjoy another night out, around seventy kilometres from Tekapo; getting all the way to Tekapo would blow many ever-increasing longest-daily-distances completely out of the water.

It sounded nice, and I had been trying to slow down a bit – so I was willing to give that a try. I mean, what was the rush? We’d been having a great time out here, why hurry back and end it? Still, I was wondering how it would play out. With the riding going to be pretty benign compared to the much tougher days we’d all just done, would people really stop so early in the day with such a short distance to go? Fascinating.

Thankfully the Ranfurly store and cafe opened at seven, as after the long haul from Roxburgh and getting in late we very much needed to resupply. The southerly pushed us up the gentle rise to Naseby and around the water race (last seen way back on Day Two) through the forest. I thought I’d warm up, but after two hours of riding I struggled to do so – so a brief layover in Naseby to thaw out a bit. It worked a treat and I continued on the familiar road out of town.

Easy ascent to Naseby, enjoying the sunlight while it lasted.

Turn towards Danseys Pass, before the climbing begins in earnest, I simply can’t go past the Dansey’s Pass Hotel. Especially when there are GSB bikes outside. It never disappoints and it was nice to find some company; the tea and scones probably helped.

Leaving with Dave, it was good to finally spend some time riding together. There’s rarely traffic up here, and with the road only just reopening the day before, it was easy to ride alongside chatting away. The climbing was easy with the wind pushing us up the hill, but it was still cold. Nearing the pass itself, it got rather bleak so it was time for more layers for the soon drop to the lavender farm.

I’d remembered the big climb soon after, but the extent of it always surprises me. At least it was warming and the long downhill to Duntroon was most pleasant. Previously bouncing around between Dave and Eileen, I was promptly dropped as the road flattened – as is my tendency. Time for a decent snack break at the start of the twenty-five kilometre Alps2Ocean section to Kurow, that didn’t ward off a flat section for me. Not an engaging section of trail, and having turned into a strong wind I was slow and not having a great time. I did amuse me to see the giant stand of willows I rather hilariously got lost in at midnight last time around, and I could see how it happened – route finding down the fluid river bed was difficult enough in broad daylight, let alone nineteen hours and 240+ kilometres into a day at the end of a challenging week. At least this time I had a better idea of where to go.

Eventually I made it into Kurow (about halfway to Tekapo) around three o’clock, tuckered out and just a bit low – in part because such a fantastic week was drawing to an end. But there was food to be had and the wind would soon be helpful again on a gorgeous afternoon. Not finding my first pie of the week at the convenience store, the cafe across the road was a far better option. Both Dave and Katie were struggling to finish comically large potato wedges (most bigger than my hand, some almost as thick as my wrist), apparently the burgers were as ridiculously oversized – but I’ll have to visit again to find out.

Fuelled up, we left the cafe in dribs and drabs, the talk still seeming to be of camping out somewhere – I was highly skeptical by now. It’s funny how things can seem to change so quickly (of course, nothing much has really changed but on such rides, one’s mindset is such a large component), with music near blaring from my phone and a faintly ridiculous sing-a-long in progress I felt like I charged up the small hill after crossing the Waitaki. Pleased with this burst of energy and lightened mood, I was not letting it go to waste – especially as I’d had such a tough final hundred kilometres last time around. In high spirits and actually enjoying the long, very gentle gravel climb up the valley Katie was soon hauled in and plenty of chat (another deserted, wide gravel road) ensued, the kilometres flying by – not wholly due to comparing it to the long tedious drag up here in 2019.

Early evening by now, and with only sixty kilometres to go and as the approach to the pass pitched up, it was time for a big rest stop and refuel – admiring the view as Dave, to our amusement, pulled out a large box and proceeded to try and unload the wedges (quite the anchor). We still couldn’t finish them between us, I’m sure he still had them the next morning – perhaps they even fuelled his Kiwi Brevette ride this last week?

As nice as it was there was no talk of camping anymore, we simply kept riding.

Slowly the gradient increased.

Approaching the pass – such pleasant riding conditions, it was hardly troublesome.

Obligatory. 45 km? Simple…

I mean, it looks all downhill.

Much fun on the descent off the pass; surprised to see a tent this early and close to the finish, we stopped briefly to chat to Tony and Karen, who had started a day late and a day around the course and looked to be having a grand time fast-touring the route. Camp chairs, seriously?!

Downhill finished, I’d remembered the horrible traverse across the widened valley to the highway. That helpful southerly was now a very strong head-crosswind. Slowly we climbed to the highway, sixteen kilometres of good road took us almost an hour. But soon enough we were at the busy highway, donning as many flashing lights as possible, for the final run into town. Almost an hour gradually climbing on the highway with a beautiful evening sky, we were pretty spent and each glad for the company; with the final drop into town, we’d almost made it!

Rounding the lakeshore to the Church of the Good Shepherd we were very pleased to be finishing after that section of highway. Hang on, what’s all this noise? Alarmingly, bewilderingly and unseen on any of the dozen or so bikepacking events I’ve done, a lot of cheering, clapping and general celebration was coming from a fair group of fellow riders and company. It was slightly overwhelming, usually one is lucky if there are two people at the end of one of these.

Photo: Dave King


Video: Dave King

But so very cool to be welcomed home by bikepacking friends old and new, what a great way to finish the week. Handshakes, hugs and finish line beers – pretty fortunate. Especially in light of the subsequent comments from friends abroad about how thoroughly normal the video above looks; but after a year of pandemic raging overseas, also how utterly surreal it all looked. Yet another reminder to get out and make the most of the freedom we have for who-knows-how-long down at the bottom of the world.

Pretty happy about that ride. Photo: Dave King

How good is this?! Photo: Dave King

Light finally fading, we rode back to the lakeside lodge for some quick barbecue leftovers, I found some cleaner non-bike clothes before hurriedly piling into vehicle again heading for the finish. Eileen and Joe were riding in, and I think they were similarly overwhelmed by the reception! Perhaps more so as they finished just as night surrounded us – all the noise out of the darkness must have been even more jarring. After having ridden so much with Eileen and seen her daily distances records continually smashed, it was very exciting to see her first 200+ km day completed to finish the route at least a day and a half earlier than originally expected.

Back at the lodge, the party continued – although being pretty tired and hungry I may have missed most of it? Still, excellent reminiscing of the week past. I don’t know what it is about the GSB (is it the route, the terrain, the scenery, the people?); the last one had such a profound effect on me, I’d spent two years waiting for this edition. Even though expectations changed with the recent shoulder dislocation and this one was quite different for me, all goals were met – shoulder survived, found some fitness, saw beautiful places, slowed down and enjoyed more riding with others – and some lessons were learned too. Nonetheless, only two weeks since, the effects are still just as profound and I can’t wait for the next one!

Thanks to Dave and crew for all the organising, and all the people who shared the ride along the way.

bikepacking, bikes, event, friends, GPS, NZ

GSB21-6: Alexandra to Ranfurly

Leave a comment

Excited by a day of almost entirely new terrain, the only large section of places unfamiliar to me on the route, it was one of the earlier starts during a week of leisurely departures. That said, it was only six-thirty – so plenty of light as we were soon back on route and past the Shaky Bridge leaving Alexandra. Brian caught up as we searched for the correct gate to begin the climb up onto the Knobby Range.

The three of us would ride together for the rest of a day where we were treated to pleasingly engaging climbs, and a thirty degree temperature drop from the previous day – a southerly change overnight didn’t start off too bad considering we were riding south. Fragrant thyme heavy in the air is always one of the special delights of riding around this area, and no different on this morning as any overnight moisture evaporated.

Brian and Eileen catching some morning light soon after leaving Alexandra. Looking across to the Dunstans, with the Pisas just peeking through in the background.

Route finding for the most part was straightforward following the track through an increasing number of rocks.

Skirting the farm buildings about halfway up, the gradient kicked up suddenly. I misunderstood “it’s only two hundred metres” as horizontal distance – so worth a crack, having pushed a bit of the lower climb; only to find it was two hundred metres vertical. Still, I could just manage it and I wasn’t stopping now.

More spot the rider.

Dark clouds rolled through, but the sunlight stuck with us.

The wind was getting up and some of the clouds were looking ominous, but the rain stayed away from us on this entire section, and it wasn’t too cold yet even with the strengthening southerly. It looked bleak up on the Old Man Range, very pleased not to be up there this time.

Undulating across the top, rolling downhill a nice change before climbing again.

As Dave commented later, a real cross section of gate history up here. This one probably the oldest, very pleasing to see the Hayes Engineering shackle from just down the road in Oturehua.

From the trig, it was only a few kilometres down through farmland before hitting the largest part of the descent to Roxburgh on fast gravel.

Down to the Clutha, with the Umbrella Mountains behind.

An easy ten kilometres alongside the river and we were in Roxburgh for an early lunch, reflecting on an excellent morning ride in pleasingly benign conditions (compared with the previous day’s heat and sun, and the coming afternoon).

Certainly was worth lingering over a large lunch and pot of tea at 103 The Store – highly recommended.

Generally heading east for the eight hundred metres of gain to the highpoint before dropping to Lake Onslow, at times the southerly was with us, at time against us. It definitely cooled down, occasional cold rain and then light hail blowing in our faces, we were soon reaching for more layers. However, it was mostly dry and, while steep in parts, there was so much variety in the climb (rolling downhill at times) and the textures of the cultivated and relatively untouched land that there was always something to look at.

At the summit after three hours, I wasn’t hanging around long with temperatures at freezing and the wind strong – not to mention now at our back for much of the next ninety kilometres.

Brian climbing away from the Lake Onslow fishing huts.

Past the dam wall, it was definitely time to find a spot at least slightly sheltered from the southerly for significant refuelling – most of that lunch was well gone from the climb!

Felt a bit bad for startling these sheep out of their place of refuge from the cold wind.

Passing the lake, there was still a little climbing to be done before the long descent to the Upper Taieri. I enjoyed a different perspective of the formation of the river that loops all the way around the Rock and Pillars, usually seen by me climbing the Old Dunstan Road out of Paerau (third photo looks back to where we were on this time around, on a much brighter day). Losing elevation, things did brighten for us as the rocky landscape returned.

With the tailwind and long descent, albeit with many gates to be opened, progress certainly sped – but I think we were all feeling the effects of a long day and being up in the weather, which was a whole lot better than it could have been thankfully. Guy caught us as we stopped for more snacks before the fifty-odd kilometres of skirting the base of Rough Ridge and cutting across the Maniototo Plain to Ranfurly.

Funny to see our place of refuge in a big southerly front on the last GSB in sunlight; the bees certainly less dormant this time!

The evening was pleasant, but we were slowing – Ranfurly was a long way off.

Surprised to still have riding buddies after I inexplicably made a wrong term (thankfully soon corrected) – still no idea why there was no thought process behind that. Tired enough that “see turn, make turn” is quite reasonable?!

Into town at eight-thirty to find a large GSB crew at the pub, happily fed – we were pleased to get pizzas with the kitchen already shut and then off to a cosy cabin at the holiday park, where they couldn’t have been friendlier. Another big day on this GSB, my favourite by far – love seeing new places, not to mention a good climb or two. Very tired, I actually slept through the whole night for the first time in a week.