Category Archives: GPS

bikepacking, bikes, event, family, friends, GPS, NZ

GSB21-3: Lindis River to Queenstown

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With quails nesting in the tree above, I had a far better sleep – but still with plenty of stargazing interspersed, bliss – and was last to rise again. At least this time, Guy and Eileen were still packing up their tents. Having less gear to wrangle into bags than the tented, we left our little riverside spot together for the short stretch to Tarras.

As the sun rose, it was pleasant riding on some flat gravel.

A good start to the day as we caught a few others. Only the stretch of Highway 8A I’d ridden a few times before, and always into the wind. It was no different today, in fact it was worse as the norwester had strengthened and continued to do so. The thirty-odd flat kilometres north to Hawea was the worst wind of the week and took us two hours, during which there were plenty of pauses for snacks, booking the first boat leaving Queenstown the next day, and a cue for my bottom bracket to develop rather ominous noises.

Finally, Lake Hawea was there in front of us – we just had to pedal downhill to reach it.

White caps galore, what a surprise.

Definitely time for a cafe stop in Hawea and a break from the wind. Now with the wind behind us, Eileen and I made good time to Albertown before rounding into the wind for the Outlet track. Wanaka for lunch, I split to a bike shop (no help, but thought bottom bracket would make it through – if I could bear the noise) and then went about a few hours off the bike to catch up with family and friends. Wonderful to see David and Mary and to share recent news.

A huge lunch was most welcome too, even if I’d only just had brunch.

Trying to organise to catch up with Cat, why not nap in the sun out of the hot wind? Photo: Dave King

Unable to quite arrange to meet, I started heading out of town around two. I soon became convinced that there was no way my bottom bracket was going to survive, and with remote sections to come – this was the best opportunity to get it sorted. A different bike shop was far more helpful (and concurred that it was terminal), had the part and did the work in less than two hours from my first phone call. Much respect to Black Peak Cycles. By that time, schedules aligned and twas lovely to catch up with Cat and somewhat meet a newborn.

Eventually I had to leave town, with eighty-odd kilometres and the Crown Range to rattle off and five hours of daylight available. It worked brilliantly, with the wind behind me (mostly) it was the easiest ride up to Cardrona and over the Crown that I’ve had. Pleasant temperatures (absolutely froze one early-March morning on TA16, and that day on the last GSB was a bit of an epic) and little traffic was ace. No wind at the top and the blast down to Arrowtown was exhilarating to say the least. The tedious loop of Arrowtown made no sense and was hard to figure on the coarse GPS track (those low resolution files about my only gripe all week).

Summit getting closer as the road finally kicks a little.

Thirty or so kilometres of familiar and mostly-benign cycle trail into town got done, legs holding up for the occasional short pinch climbs. Wonderful evening and time of day to be riding into town – warm, quiet. I needed lights for the last ten minutes of the pathway into town, the only time all week. Queenstown far quieter than once, as expected, I was happy to find a pizza joint open before spinning up the hill to the motel Guy had booked. Tales of the day shared, pizza half gone (some left for inevitable mid-night snack), body and clothes clean again…another cracking day. Some challenges overcome (that wind, and working through sudden bottom bracket peril), plenty of food, good riding company, taking a few hours rest out of the heat and wind, seeing loved ones and topping it off with a gorgeous solo evening ride.

bikepacking, bikes, event, GPS, NZ

GSB21-2: Quailburn to Lindis River

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The wind really got up during the night and the clattering from the roofing iron on the old woolshed intensified. I slept little; finally at four o’clock I rose and moved camp to the lee of a Land Rover. There I got some sleep, but still had plenty of moments enjoying stargazing and, later, watching the light change as another day on the bike dawned. Either it was so windy or I dozed off again, but I didn’t hear everyone leave – not a single click of a freehub! So much for my plan to slow down and ride with others, I’d slowed too much.

At least I didn’t have much to pack and I was up and rolling down the valley with a fierce wind at my back in fifteen minutes. Great fun on the quick ride to breakfast at the Wrinkly Ram (never disappoints) and I did manage to find Guy leaving and others to eat with. A meal so large I couldn’t finish it, I took some to go before heading for Little Omarama Saddle. Finding others to briefly say hi to along the way, I eventually got out of town and began the gradual climb away from the Ahuriri River. This seemed a long stretch of benign gravel, but the wind was mostly helpful and soon I was off my bike for the ninety minute push up. I had been looking forward to going over Omarama Saddle for the first time, but recent rainfall and high water forced a course change. The “little” saddle is actually higher and I remembered it well from 2019. Taking it easy, I only rode a short section and was ten minutes slower than last time – certainly wasn’t catching anyone up here.

Back north over the Ahuriri valley.

The saddle came soon enough and there began a fast, rocky, brake-squealing descent. So much fun, and a good test for the shoulder on a rigid fork. I passed some mountain-bikers on the way down, was having a complete blast tearing down and splashing through stream crossings. Surprised to catch Guy and Eileen at the end of snack break, we rode out together enjoying the valley mellowing and the water crossings got larger. Hawkduns Run Road was new to me and I enjoyed the undulations, but mostly the views of the Hawkduns and picking out the beginning of the Mt Ida Water Race (which we’d ride beside at the end of the week).

Guy and Kevin heading for St Bathans.

The wind was bit on the nose as we turned and climbed to lunch at St Bathans. The garden at the pub was most pleasant (although the barkeep made you wonder how and why some ever go into hospitality) with another large collection of riders coming and going. Best of all was best-sister and only-nibling being there as trail angels for the early afternoon. The cookies and brownies were a hit and I was lucky there were any left by the time I arrived. Nice long lunch, twas out into the afternoon with plenty of riders on the road to chat to in passing as we skirted the Manuherikia Valley.

Familiar roads that I’d not ridden before, Thompson’s Gorge was looming as we turned into the wind. Pleased to see any gates open as the course turned towards the gorge, knowing full well that there’d be many to open. With the steep climb to come, it was snack time and Guy appeared. Up we went, with the headwind strong I soon opted for the pushing option – not too disappointed to not be riding a climb I usually manage, I was happy to be saving energy. Guy dominated the climb, but with all the gates – I wasn’t too far behind. It’s a spectacular gorge and I’ve always enjoyed riding through, although it’s never easy – which is probably part of the appeal.

Things flattened out and I was soon back on the bike as we dropped to the creek and traced it upstream. The climbing begins in earnest again after an old stone hut; at least off the bike pushing, I couldn’t be blown off my bike – which I certainly would have been as the wind was far stronger than two years ago (and that knocked me off my bike).

Over the saddle and following the contour for a bit, there was the usual snap across the valley north towards the confluence of the Clutha and Lindis rivers before the rollicking gravel descent began.

Down on the flats, we battled the wind through Ardgour towards Tarras. Approaching 150 km and ten hours of riding for the day, I was most amenable to Guy’s plan to find a nice campsite out of the wind (especially after the previous night!) and not sleep near the highway. Trees beside the Lindis obliged and we were making camp after a good, but tough in parts, day at the civilised hour of eight o’clock. I could get used to this. Camp made, I kept an eye on the road for others and soon there was a strangely large gathering of windswept bikepackers on a nondescript bridge as dusk crept closer; our camping cohort only growing by one as others pressed on into the wind.

bikepacking, bikes, event, friends, GPS, NZ

GSB21-1: Tekapo to Quailburn

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A late start to the Great Southern Brevet does at least give plenty of time for breakfast at the Greedy Cow and catching up with bikepacking friends from far and wide, finally meeting previously-online friends for the first time and the chance to meet new people who soon become friends. Two years ago, there were only thirty-odd lining up at the Church of the Good Shepherd; this time, I expect due to the difficult in travelling overseas, there were near a hundred riders eager for the adventure ahead. What a privilege in these times, just to have such a large group start and simply shake hands and be with friends sans any distancing restrictions.

With six weeks off the bikepacking bike due to dislocating my shoulder before Christmas, I had simple goals for the 1100 km course. Most importantly, keep my shoulder where it should be; other aims were to see if there was any shoulder pain, take it easy and ride into a little bit of fitness, spend time riding with others, not do much night riding so as to see as much as possible, not exhaust myself before the big event of the summer, see how my lighter kit worked out and generally enjoy a week away riding in amazing part of the country. To try and trick myself into riding slower and shorter days punctuated with more stops, I’d switched to flat pedals and my street shoes – a set-up I typically only use for touring.

Heading down to the start.

Excited to get out there and see what Dave had in store for us. Photo: Dave King.

An hour milling around lots of chatty people pre-ride was excellent, but eventually we got to do what for we came for. Seen off by the cowbell toting locals down the street, I hung around until I was at the back of the field and tootled off up the hill out of town.

Bunched.

It was almost possible to lag behind, but we were soon on gravel then heading up a steep track. The desire to ride up it was still there, but not being attached to my pedals did force a dismount and push. This was working out ok.

Strewn.

That crested, the track improved to a gravel road and views across Lake Pukaki. Dropping down to the lakeside, it was forty kilometres of Alps2Ocean gravel and trail to Twizel; the wind must have been kind as even I managed that in less than two hours. Finding the problem of not having a proper shakedown ride, strangely my front brake began to increasingly rub. Arriving in town mid-afternoon for resupply I was feeling pretty ordinary. Only on leaving town and having many people fly past me, did I make the leap and realise just how much energy that little brake rub was sucking. That adjusted once off the road, everything was right with the world again and I had the semblance of a lease of life.

Which was just as well, as the next section was a good hike-a-bike up the overgrown Flanagan’s Pass. A couple of hours of mostly pushing through farmland then close tussock (at times over twenty percent), with some decent stream crossings, was not unpleasant in the late afternoon.

Somewhere, the remains of a trail under the grasses.

Back east and where we’d come from.

A brief pause at the saddle to layer up and admire the view, twas then onto a rollicking descent. So much fun!

Across the Lake Ohau headwaters

I caught up to Guy partway down and we continued around the lake to rejoin the A20 and familiar trails. With the sun starting to drop, thoughts turned to how far to go for the day. Eileen appeared from somewhere, having been well in front of me – but also having too much fun on the downhill and missing a turn. I’d not made any plans, Omarama seemed too far away for first day back on the bike. Quailburn, as Eileen had suggested, seemed a better idea at 150 km in. Guy and I made our way around the bottom of the lake, first sheltered in the scrub before joining the road and dealing with the wind off the lake. With the recent devastating fires, the campground Adele and I stayed at when we did the A2O a few years ago was closed and looking rather blackened.

Eventually we reached the lodge entrance and the time to turn from the wind for the long gradual climb into the gathering night. Chatting with a few others, it would be the last we’d see of them until back in Tekapo six nights later. Eileen rolled up and after we’d all rested and snacked a bit, the three of us started the climb. A nice steady three percent grade as twilight set in – about an hour it took.

We were all pretty spent and had a bit of a rest at the summit. Somehow I managed the last half hour without turning lights on, but it was quite dark by the time I was hunting out a bivy spot near the historic Quailburn woolshed. A great day back on the bike, save the brake rubbing wasting a bit of energy – but I sorted that and everything was excellent again. Now for the wind to die down while I slept in the lean-to of the woolshed.

bikepacking, bikes, GPS, NZ

Akitio Overnighter

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I didn’t take much convincing to join one of Amanda’s Tour Te Waipounamu training weekends in neighbouring Tararua district. Learning it was her preferred Wellington escape for gravel roads and hills was enough. Alas, I’m back to having to carefully manage my leave from work, so I couldn’t join for Friday’s riding. Timing it well, we met Friday night at the Dannevirke campground to find it extremely well sheltered from the high winds that had been around all day.

Away at half-six into an overcast and still windy Saturday, a delightful twenty kilometre detour cut out a few kilometres of the busy road to Weber. With no traffic and slight hills, I’m intrigued by the connector to Te Uri (a favourite part of this year’s HBAT course) and the longer option of the loop we did. Back on the Weber road for twenty minutes, we dove off south for the Waitahora Valley and roads all new to me (I’d ridden only seven percent of the day’s route previously). No sooner had the gravel started, than it turned to freshly graded – so fresh we had to negotiate the grader approaching, blade spanning the entire road.

Grader passed safely; beside the Mangatoro Stream.

Next up Amanda had an hour or so of hike-a-bike through the Waewaepa Reserve planned – ten kilometres of long-since overgrown road, now good for ATVs, bikes and walking. But first, a rest. Very rare that I ride for four hours with no stops for food – there’s always something to stop and take a photo of, someone to talk to… But not today, being a bit slower I didn’t stop lest I hold things up or get completely left behind. A big snack break and discussion of what we’d find on the track was welcome.

Well benched for the most part, we were soon pushing up a couple of hundred metres for forty minutes – avoiding the cutty grass, small bogs, water running down the road and, with varying degrees of success, the ongaonga (a stinging nettle). The downhill section was at least mostly rideable, even if there was far more ongaonga to avoid.

Soon down to the Tiraumea River and some flattish riding beside it, only now do I realise how very close we were to State Highway Two and a couple of small towns. We found a spot out of the wind for lunch, before the short section I’d actually been on before (“It looks a nice spot to come back to explore some of the gravel roads I’ve since realised are nearby.“! True words, only took me twenty months…). Pleasingly, I even recognised it – especially the beautiful Makuri Gorge.

Strange to see some traffic again, even stranger to see it flashing high beams at us. We quickly realised that Guy had done a really good job of estimating our progress from my tracker. His bike quickly off the back of the truck, up the fantastic Pori Road we went, chatting all the way helping to pass the climb up to skirt around the south of the Puketois. Guy needn’t have worried about being slow, I was the straggler again – but at least I could try to snap some photos as we rode along.

Grey, green, lumpy.

Down on Route 52 quickly, in one of those tired lapses of concentration it took me a fair while to realise it – the Rapid numbers (in rural areas they measure tens of metres from the start of a road) were improbably high. Route 52 (a long ago declassified highway and very popular for cycle touring) is even quieter in these parts! Heading east for the coast now, the wind was now paying back for all the toil earlier in the day. Still, I lagged. Finally, a water source at Tiraumea Hall – and another big snack stop. Even if my hayfever did kick in.

Shortly after, Guy left us to return up and over the Puketois to his truck. All three eyed warily the ominous black clouds gathering back that way. Straight back on gravel, Amanda and I headed for the beach. Hills abounded again, but the sun continued to shine basically wherever we were. Ahead and behind looked well grim, with legs tiring the tailwind was much appreciated. Occasionally it had to be battled, but generally it pushed us to the coast.

The most striking hills of the day – helps being able to see them.

We chased this rainbow for quite some time, and watched it grow.

I was actually there – about the time we were sure rain would soon dump down, it didn’t.

The last little climb before dropping to Akitio.

Into the wind for the last time, down to see what’s at Akitio.

All day we’d been hoping we’d arrive before the burger van closed. We managed it with an hour to spare, and promptly loaded up with burgers, wedges, fritters and ice cream. It was quickly devoured and at the little campground we were warmly welcomed and advised where best to camp to shelter from the wind. We were only the second group to bike in this year! I think I know the other. How is that possible? It’s a great spot and excellent riding; ok, we were both pretty exhausted – but we didn’t exactly take the direct, flat route. There is much potential around here.

That extra shelter came in handy, as the wind really got up before midnight – before dropping and the sky clearing nicely for sleepy stargazing. Sunday was a slightly later start and, both wanting to get to our respective homes in the late afternoon, a far more direct route. But it wasn’t the most direct as we found extra hills and gravel roads. The wind stayed moderate and with a clear sky I appreciated being able to see more. My GPS logged a fair bit of climbing, so it wasn’t a complete cake walk.

I particularly enjoyed looking north over Central Hawke’s Bay and early-HBAT terrain, not to mention spying the Triple Peaks of Kahuranaki, Erin and Te Mata close to home.

It took riding up to the apiarists to work out that this chopper was hauling hives into the bush.

Guy had told us of Sunday’s country market at Weber, which we found in full swing mid-morning. It was definitely time for tasty paua rolls and such things – as well as catching up with Guy and Jane. Amanda headed south to her car, and me back to Dannevirke to mine, with plenty of time for the drives home. What an excellent weekend of biking new places, eating plenty and spending time with great bikepacking buddies – and not having to do any planning, thanks Amanda! Only the first weekend of December and already the summer is too full of plans to fit in all I want to do – so good to be in that position.