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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.

bikepacking, bikes, GPS, NZ

Scouting and Kopiko greeting from Frasertown

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There was one section of Kopiko Aotearoa (the Cape to Cape ride that I was due to do, but ended up doing NITT instead) up near Wairoa that I’d never ridden. So I went up that way for the weekend to ride that, see how many Kopiki West to East riders I could find, ride a few other favourite gravel roads and do a bit of scouting for this year’s HBAT.

Leaving the house (where I’d been welcomed by friends of a friend with exceeding warmth and generosity) just before dawn, it was a warm enough start. The lights weren’t needed for long as a still day brightened.

Easy, flattish seal to start.

The Mangapoike, just before it flows into the Wairoa.

Nearing the turn-off, I’d be into those hills soon – new roads for me!

Up and over a little hill, I left Tiniroto Rd at Te Reinga – and promptly stopped to see the falls. The viewing platform could have been placed in a better position – perhaps where one can see the falls. No matter, I met my first KAers for the day and there started many episodes of stopping and chatting. The sealed road beside the Ruakituri River was pretty flat and easygoing. A perfect morning for cycling, no wind, warm but never hot or cold, no burning sunlight – it was excellent to be out; however, not the greatest for inspiring plenty of photo snapping.

Near the end of the seal, I spotted a little sign pointing KA riders in – a local farm had opened up their shearers’ quarters for accommodation, food and water. I checked it out, HBAT in mind, and managed to miss a passing shower. The light rain helped to dampen any dust on the gravel, I could see recently set deep bike tracks in the surface – the east to west riders didn’t have it so good up here.

A good climb up to four hundred metres had constant iterations one of my favourite bikepacking ponderings – “How does this road get out of this valley?” (catchy title, I know). Over the next couple of hours, there was a flurry of riders heading in the opposite direction – easily over a dozen. All were happy to stop, rest and chat – strangely they seemed more interested in what I was doing out there with little kit than answering my queries about their own adventures; perhaps after a week of explaining what they were doing, it was a welcome change to ask someone the same question. Or maybe I just like to talk about bike trips too much.

My obsession with seeing Panekiri Bluff from differing angles and distances continued. It’s so close here!

A long descent to Ohuka ensued before more chatting and onto seal – steep! It tried to rain again, but that was more cooling than wetting and most welcome. It really was a steep descent down to Lake Rd, I now appreciate a little all the comments I’d seen in the KA group and heard from the riders I’d passed. Still, what a road from Te Reinga – just fantastic.

Ten flat kilometres back towards where I came from, it was only a little tempting to head home to my excellent hosts. But, another new road – more exploring! Ruapapa Rd served up a surprising amount of pine forest – a big wide gravel road with more traffic than I was expecting and no views. Suddenly, a little hydro scheme that I didn’t know existed – fascinating.

Sun out by now and the westerly rising, the steep climb away from the dam and the Waiau River was a bit of shock. The descent to the river was fast, steep and heavily corrugated.

I stopped most of the way down and chatted to a farmer moving some of his 35,000 sheep.

A good thing I did too – I now have a contact which should enable HBAT to avoid more highway and cover more hills, and he pointed me towards water at a local community hall – also handy to know for HBAT.

It’s quite a gateway to the hall – from the old bridge over the Waiau. Coincidentally, the grandparents of my host for the weekend used to live in that house.

Over the river, the road was sealed again up what I’ve learnt the locals call the “staircase”. It’s only four hundred metres to ascend to the start of one of my favourite roads.

Finally, I snapped a photo of this cute little house I’ve notice many times before.

Again, Cricklewood Road did not disappoint. With the westerly stronger up here, the rolling climbs were there to be attacked – in amongst stopping to look over the terrain I was now slightly more familiar with. Deserted on a Saturday afternoon, there wasn’t even a huge flock of sheep to negotiate.

Towards where I’d spent the previous few hours.

No sheep this time – c.f.

I mean, look at it…

Over northern Hawke Bay to Mahia Peninsula.

Eventually, the big descent to sea level and the quick blast back into town were done and I was welcomed with a big barbecue dinner. Fantastic day, odd to be riding so far with an unloaded bike – that certainly makes 2000 m/100 km easier.

Sunday had a far more leisurely start – sleep-in, drive to Tiniroto and set off on a far shorter loop at half-nine. Mostly I was extremely keen to ride Parikanapa Rd again – it being so stunning on NITT, I wanted to know how it rode in the opposite direction. I’d love to see it in a course route, so this was important to find out. The steep climbing was done quickly and the bit that was rough and loose gravel while descending at speed, was really quite placid when climbing slowly.

Again, it was great riding weather and there was no traffic – well, I saw some quad bikes on farms and a car. I was curious to see how all the hills would look without the amazing evening light I got on NITT. While they weren’t quite as spectacular, the beauty of all the folds and creases in the hills surrounding that road was still apparent.

Another two wonderful hours up on the ridges of Parikanapi Rd over and I was back on the lower Tiniroto Road – my, it was comparatively boring. Although I did meet two more pairs of KA riders while I was riding downhill – I quickly u-turned and spun up hill chatting all the way until I started going down the other side.

Grass up the middle and very skinny road – only sealed as just around the corner were a lot of tight switchbacks dropping to the Hangaroa River.

Incidentally, it’s the meeting of the Hangaroa and Ruakituri Rivers that form the Wairoa – glad I’ve finally got that sorted in my mind. The Wairoa always seemed to me improbably large for such a short river; it seems to me that some of the tributaries are far bigger than the two rivers that start the Wairoa off. There’s a nice big park just over the bridge that crosses the Hangaroa there – a good spot for families, camping and for me to have my lunch.

Back onto gravel, the lunch-legs appeared – but the climbing was mostly slight, the views and surface pleasing. Only after crossing back over the river did a decent climb appear, but that was easily surmounted. Even less traffic on Ruakaka Road than in the morning – that is, no vehicles on the road. The twenty kilometres after lunch was quickly over to complete a lovely few hours of riding. Seemed a shame not to pop in and support the pub (they fed many hungry bikepackers over the week just gone) before heading south. I’d love to get both of these roads on my HBAT route, but that’s not likely – but, happily enough, more exploring is called for in these parts.

Saturday’s route, somehow I lost the ride – it was only about 3700 m of climbing:

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NITT 9 – Tiniroto to Napier

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Gone by six, unusually there was a little rain – cool on the descent from Tiniroto, and pleasantly so on the following climb. Now on the home straight and with only two percent of the day’s route roads new to my bike, the 180 km back to my front door turned into a bit of a celebration of the week’s most excellent trip.

Celebrations started in style with the best meal of the week (copious numbers of mushrooms in there) – East End Cafe in Wairoa is exceptional. What a find (thanks Keiko) for breakfast, and so close to home.

Out of Wairoa on the highway, I was a little disappointed to have to, poorly, sing “Goodbye Cricklewood Road” as I passed one of my favourite gravel roads (I’d be back three weeks later). Sunday morning, the highway was quiet and with only a day’s riding left and all batteries fully charged, music from my phone was a regular accompaniment of the day. The four kilometres of Mohaka Coach Rd down to the township were new – and provided the first blackberry stop of the day.

And views across to the cliffs towards the Waikare mouth.

And across the lower reaches of the Mohaka, towards hills that get more and more familiar.

Climbing Mohaka Coach Road towards Kotemaori, I found it may ride just as well as it does down towards the coast. That is to say, it was a very pleasant Sunday midday ride with absolutely no traffic. Back on the highway, traffic had increased – but it was mostly of the boat towing and carrying surfboards variety as a long weekend ended.

As the afternoon warmed, it was time for a spell at my most-frequented country store. How many pies, milkshakes and ice creams I’ve consumed at the Tutira store? I’d not like to hazard a guess. Off the highway, the roads just got more familiar. Another prolonged blackberry stop eventually had to be cut short or I’d never make it home.

A kind wind pushed me up Darkys Spur and onto Waipunga Road – where it was time for another stop. This time dropping in to congratulate newlyweds (a workmate) and hear how the wedding on the farm went; there may have also been giant cookies and other refreshments. Waipunga was riding far better than it was on HBAT, so that was pleasing.

Home, just over there! With a bit of over-zoom.

In no time I was back on my bike-commute route, savouring a very successful week of riding, seeing much of the central North Island, great company and food, fine weather, averaging over two hundred kilometres per day on mostly hilly terrain (with little riding at night when the views aren’t so good). Most importantly I found I could ride such distances day after day and thoroughly enjoy it – fantastic; the weather may have helped a lot there. Thanks for following along.

Pretending that the commute-route is new to me.

bikepacking, bikes, GPS, NZ

NITT 8 – Whakawhitira to Tiniroto

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I must have been to close to some water, as there were enough mosquitos buzzing around through the warm night to keep me from deep sleep. Still, the main road was quiet and, despite the broken sleep, I felt good setting off before six o’clock. A warm-up and a few little hills later and I was crossing the river into Ruatoria for breakfast.

Early morning over the Waiapu.

The pub had seen better days.

A couple of stores opened at seven, so that was worth waiting for. The Ruatoria pies, even more so; so started a cruisy day of riding between food stops and more outstanding bays. This East Coast road is notorious among touring cyclists for logging trucks – but thanks to the coronavirus and the region’s log exports grinding to a sudden halt, I didn’t see a single one on the road.

With a norwester blowing, there was a gently helping hand as I tackled only the occasional climb – much of the day being pretty flat and easy. There were plenty of hills to be seen, but the region being so refreshingly undeveloped there are few roads to explore those hills. It was an easy first half of the commute home; after the previous week, that sat just fine with me.

Enjoying a Coastie Toastie at Tokomaru Bay.

Following a big lunch at Tolaga Bay, there were finally some more wee hills to summit before joining a lot of holiday and beach traffic into Gisborne.

Can’t imagine why people find this place appealing for a relaxed holiday.

Seeing the coast stretch to the Mahia Peninsula, I again chastised myself for taking four and a half years to get up here. I just keep finding more places to explore close to home. It was nice to get off the road for the first time that day on a cycle path into Gisborne. As it took me so long to get there, perhaps I should have had a better look around – but an early dinner called before heading west out of town.

Late in the afternoon, the wind had got up and was really whipping across the plains – that twenty kilometres with increased traffic was tough. On the quieter road to Tiniroto, I started to climb. The first real one of the day was another Gentle Annie – mercifully smaller than the one on the first day of the trip. Steepening, I spied a lot of blackberries on the side of the road – those could not be easily passed and provided a little boost to get up and over to Waerengaokuri

Gisborne just visible on the coast.

Long since closed.

Way back when I was looking for a good way to get home from East Cape and I spied what looked like a gravel alternative to a section of the sealed Tiniroto Rd that I’d ridden a couple of times before. I was eager to check it out, my only concerns were that I might drop a lot of altitude and have to grovel back up to Tiniroto, or worse yet – the road might not go through for some reason.

Always pleasing to see decades old sign styles surviving.

That was far from the case, it began to climb straight away and was interestingly steep in parts. Absolutely deserted in the early evening, every couple of kilometres I’d be surprised to see a house. Short stretches of seal indicated it was a bit steeper, but mostly it was good gravel. Soon after the turn off I was following the ridge line up, so there were views in both directions.

These got better as dusk approached. I thought the climbing was done for a while at six hundred metres elevation, but after a steep descent it wound its way back up again. The road was challenging in parts, but my – with the views, solitude and challenge at the end of a long day of sealed road – it was one of the standouts of the entire trip. I loved it and am very much looking forward to riding it again this weekend, only three weeks later. I shouldn’t go on, so here’s a few of the photos I took over the two hours and twenty-five kilometres.

Looking west, wondering what it’ll be like when the sun drops a little lower.

Getting some idea as the sun dips; looking north.

Breath taken from me looking towards Waikaremoana, marvelling at all the folds in the hills.

Sometimes it’s a bit easier to imagine where the gravel might go next.

Whakapunake.

My evening companion for the week made another sudden appearance. About this time, I also saw a vehicle and shortly after, a wild boar – both I was surprised to see.

Back on Tiniroto Rd, it was time to drop down to the settlement and see if the pub was still open. Buzzing from such a fantastic find, a little climb hardly dampened my spirits as the sun finally set on the eighth day of my little tour. The last few hours made it one of the more memorable for a while; that the pub and its kitchen were still open were an unexpected bonus as the fifth meal of the day was savoured before laying my head for the night in the community hall.