Category Archives: GPS

bikepacking, bikes, Canada, friends, GPS, USA

Day One – Out of Canada (so soon?)

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A bit shocked having just come from winter and skiing, sleep was hard to come by in the August heat of the Rockies. Not in any particular rush, breakfast was leisurely and bikes were eventually packed and ready to go. Saying our thanks and goodbyes, we rolled into the centre of town. We promptly stayed for quite some time buying food, unexpectedly meeting friends (whom I knew from previous North American stays) and eating bagels.

This was the first adventure on my new bike. Only having ridden a hundred and thirty kilometres on it, I was keen to see how it would go. My hastily cobbled together luggage arrangement didn’t last long. We hadn’t even got out of town before a malfunction of my saddle bag stopped me in my tracks, a roadside repair was effected. It wasn’t to be the last time in the trip it was overloaded with food, but thankfully it was the last such mishap.

After waiting at a level crossing for a massive-by-NZ-standards, normal-by-North-American-standards train, we were on our way almost two hours after leaving the house. Definitely not in any rush – but we did want to cross the border and make Eureka that night, so that we did make the Whitefish Bike Retreat booking sometime over the approaching weekend.

This below is the route that we were to trace, clockwise, over the following twelve days. A combination of various defined routes, points to meet and spend time with friends, towns, remote backcountry gravel roads and some seal to link it altogether – it was excellent, as will become clear.

Taking a Great Divide Mountain Bike Route (GDMBR) alternate south out of town, we were soon past houses and riding gravel roads through forest. The highway was off on the other side of the Elk River, so our road was quiet – apart from the occasional train nearby. Trending downhill, there were still plenty of climbs to test our legs – neither of us having ridden loaded bikes any great distance for a while. We met our first other bikepackers of the trip – chat with all the interesting riders of their planned trips was good fun.

Crossing the Elk River (my head not in the space of cooling off in rivers, we missed a good stop) the lovely gravel ended and we were spat out at a gas station on a busy highway. It seemed time for ice cream and other rejuvenation. Further down the highway were meant to connect to back roads for the run to the border – but the main highway was too busy, so we turned off quickly for a quieter highway straight to the border. Mid-afternoon by this time, it had really heated up and a nagging hot wind slowed us on the mostly-but-for-two-notable-exceptions downhill to checkpoint.

We joined the actual GDMBR and soon hit the queues at the border crossing. Having cleared US immigration during transit in Los Angeles, the questions of our intentions were very mild. In fact, outlining our planned route the line of interrogation turned into jokes about hearing banjoes playing. Half-five and into Montana we were; first objective of the day complete, it was “only” about twenty kilometres to Eureka, food and a community campsite.

Gravel backroads took us off the highway, and provided plenty of rollers. Pace slowed, but eventually we got a tailwind and a significant downhill into town. Exhausted there was resting in a very small park, with its own menagerie of aggressive turkeys, before trying to find food. Pizza took an age, but then I would join a queue behind what seemed like a whole battalion of Californian wildfire-fighters (wild-firefighters seems a bit unruly; there’s probably a more correct name).

Down the road, right next to the Tobacco River, was the campground. With a few picnic tables and grass, it’s available by payment donation only and is near to the sorts of services those on the GDMBR need. Cycle tourists #4 through to #12 (?) were there for the night and more bikepacking chat ensued – sure was interesting hearing more and varied plans, and backgrounds. Poking around an adjacent compound of historic buildings scratched the itch to know slightly more of where we were. Strange American experience for the day was buying a sealed cup filled with frozen diary, putting it in some futuristic automated machine and out popped a thickshake – curious, so long as one wasn’t so inquisitive as to read the list of ingredients/chemicals.

The evening drew in and after a hot, long day – well, it was a hot night in a bivy bag punctuated by noisy traffic. Fantastic to be out biking in new places, tomorrow – wilderness!

bikes, city, family, friends, GPS, NZ, travel

Dan Loops of New Plymouth

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Saturday dawned a cracker and we were out on bikes for the day as Dan gave us a tiki tour of New Plymouth comprising loops of various sizes. First up was some nice rooty track through suburban native forest before joining one of the many pathways that follow the lower reaches of various waterways flowing to the Tasman. Beside one of these were two large rope swings strung up in trees on the back of someone’s property.

Proper decent rope swings; it was not easy jumping off makeshift platforms onto the ropes – great fun but.

We wound our way downtown, pausing briefly to check out some murals and numerous eels slithering around another stream.

Down to the coastal pathway, near the infamous Wind Wand – this is about the only thing I remember about New Plymouth from my university holiday job in South Taranaki – it was the topic of much conversation in the smoko room.

Jacqui, Dan, Adele and James just before heading west on the pathway.

A lovely day, the pathway was chocka with people out walking, riding and running. Fantastic to see, it reminded me of home.

Passing the port, we rode up towards the base of Paritutu Rock.

A super steep climb up above the coast, bikes were left behind as we scrambled up. Staircases took us about halfway and then chains were strung down the face to aid climbing. Once again, plenty of people were out enjoying the sun.

Atop, we looked out over Sugar Loaf Islands and could just spot some offshore platforms.

East we looked along the coast, past the port and a disused power station.

Floating roof tanks! Oh, and the city. I rankled a little bit at the industry-is-ugly comments.

Hidden in the cloud was Mt Taranaki.

The walk down was tough in MTB shoes and torture on my legs – which were starting to ache after the previous day’s descent off the mountain.

A little further west we enjoyed a bit of beachside riding – my legs were at least still good for cycling and some nasty little grassy pinch climbs.

Looping back up beside another stream we came across a smattering of shops – definitely time for lunch. Dumplings were procured and we found a picnic table on the shore to eat, literally, scores of the tasty morsels.

Back towards Paritutu, note the sax player adding a touch of class to our seaside meal.

The slight detour back into town was unsuccessful in obtaining cronuts, alas; but this building is striking.

We continued west with ample distractions to look at – and still numerous people to avoid banging into.

This striking bridge is even more so when the mountain behind us is not shrouded in cloud.

Heading home we found a bakery for more treats and yet another pathway beside a river to get us most of the way back. An altogether lovely day out in a very pleasant little city; good weather, food and company sure helps too. It’s a pity New Plymouth is five and a half hours’ drive away.

family, GPS, NZ, snow

Mt Kyeburn – The Day I Finally Got Ski Touring?

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A day’s rest back in Naseby (well, OK, I did go for my first trail and longest-ever run – all of ten kilometres) involved pottering around, heading out to the Waipiata pub for lunch and firing up the hot tub. After that downtime, Adele was itching to take me ski-touring up nearby Mt Kyeburn.

Greeted with a well-frosty, clear morning we loaded up the Suzuki and headed up towards Mt Buster. Not doing a big loop on bikes this time, we drove further up the 4WD road and passed the first hut, climbing up to about 900 m. It hasn’t been a particularly snowy winter, so it was just as well it snowed a few days beforehand. While the tussock wasn’t completely covered, the track was and we could park up and start skinning under a blue sky.

A gentle gradient had us climb three hundred metres as the views over the Maniototo and surrounding hills unfurled behind us.

Not much snow looking south-east from where we parked.

Across the Maniototo to the Rock and Pillars.

A tad higher now, at least there is snow on the skin (4WD) track. Looking over to the western reaches of the Kakanui Mountains. I wonder if there is much bikepacking to be had up there…

The wind, strangely, dropped as we got higher and reached more exposed areas. Very pleasant indeed.

We followed these footprints all the way to Buster Diggings, until we finally met two photographers from Dunedin on a day trip. Mt Kyeburn, our destination, in the background.

The gradient leveled off to flat for the next three kilometres, which was easy going to Buster Diggings – once upon a time the highest gold mining area in the country. With the snow and frost on the tussock grass, and the varied colours and textures of the hills under a stunningly clear blue sky – it was an exceptionally gorgeous day, and a very pleasant temperature too.

Into Buster Diggings – a bit difficult to see the remnants of sluice mining when it’s covered in snow. Once again, Mt Kyeburn in the distance – this time from a different angle.

Soon after the diggings we rested and snacked at the tiny Buster Hut. Apparently James spent a rather frigid night in here last winter. Well insulated, it was not.

The ascent began again, gradually taking us higher and providing different views. Few parts were steep and the going was pleasant.

Looking west over the Ida Range; it looks a bit different to when we biked over it almost four years previously.

We looped around to complete the ascent from the north, only the last part to the summit getting steep enough to necessitate some thought of path-picking.

Made it, after about four hours (1636 m); finally proper windy as the Maniototo stretches west behind us.

Looking over to the Kakanuis from the summit.

There was just enough snow that we could get a pleasing number of turns in as we dropped off the summit, away from our skin track, before heading back to the track. Adele did a better job of avoiding dastardly rocks than I, but we both had a lot of fun. A brief walk up a slight rise and we were then hurtling down the track.

The track wasn’t really wide enough, and there was insufficient snow off-piste, that one just had to strike the right balance of keeping enough speed to get over any little rises, but not lose control on the variable surface. Such good fun riding out all the bumps at some speed.

Snow cover getting a bit variable, and the track being pretty rutted made for exciting and knee-flexing times.

Back down at the hut, the skins were back on again for the flat section. This didn’t dampen my spirits as we’d had such fun on the descent so far. Hot drinks from the Thermos probably helped too. Off the plateau, there was still enough snow to switch back to downhill mode and whoop and holler down to the car. Little patches of no snow around drainage ditches made for some interesting jumps and a few hundred metres from the car the rocks became too prominent so we hiked the last little bit.

An absolutely fantastic little adventure from Adele & James’s home. Definitely the most excitable I’ve been about ski-touring. Which is odd, as the snow was sufficient but not fantastic. I think the combination of a beautiful day, having a summit as the objective and the varied, expansive views of the browns of Central Otago contrasting with the snow, and spending time with favourite-sister culminated in a memorable outing. Bonus – my legs didn’t seem to hurt from this unusual amount of skiing either; running might be good for something.

bikepacking, event, GPS, NZ

Mini Geyserland Gravel Grind 2018

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My swollen left knee caused by a big Easter of biking slowly returned to normal. However, due to having favoured my knee to get through six hundred kilometres of pain – my lower right leg was messed up for a few weeks. Physio treatment just aggravated it and made walking excruciating, but finally the root of the problem was treated and things came right in time for the Mini GGG. I could walk normally again, and riding was even better – as normal.

I was keen to go on this more-social bikepacking event and meet some new people. Pete kindly lent me his spare bike (a bike that has completed the Tour Divide no less) – we decked it with borrowed bags and adjusted it for me Friday night. Saturday in Rotorua dawned misty with drizzle falling. It really wasn’t too bad by the time we rolled to the start at the very agreeable hour of ten o’clock.

The Mini GGG was more social than most bikepacking events I’ve done as the distances each day were short and the camping spots set. This meant that everyone camped together and, arriving late afternoon, we had plenty of time to make camp and hang out in the shelter cooking, eating and sharing various stories.

Eleven of us set off from the centre of Rotorua and followed a now familiar route to, up, along and off the Mamakus (I’d ridden this way on the first GGG and last year’s Mega Grind). The drizzle continued, but it wasn’t cold or windy – our steady pace was most pleasant and the climb was gradual.

What’s this? How am I at the front? This must be socially paced. Waiting in Mamaku for people to talk to…

Traversing along the top of the ranges, the rain petered out and we became more exposed to the souwester. Having regrouped, it was good to spend some time chatting to Erik (one of the two, Pete being the other, organisers of these wonderful GGGs) about his custom bike (I’m still deciding what to replace my stolen Ogre with) and his experiences writing and editing his soon-to-be-published account of riding Tour Aotearoa one and a half times. Riding in a group of about six there were plenty to chat to; we caught up to another two riders who had got a slight head start on the main group, bringing out total to thirteen.

Passing the highest point of our route, we turned into the wind and our group slowly spread. Definitely one of those days requiring concerted effort to get downhill. Still, it still wasn’t raining, the surface was good and I was thoroughly enjoying experiencing a different bike. Not much of a day for photos, I had little reason to stop and therefore rolled into Tokoroa looking for a good bakery.

Still finding it a little bewildering to be at the vanguard of our little fleet of bikepacking rigs, I settled in with a glorious steak and mushroom pie and other baked treats. Slowly everyone else rolled into town and about half of the group arrived to further deplete the pie stock (they were very good, I may have had another). It was very odd during an “event” sitting still for well over an hour; eventually getting antsy and feeling I should be riding, I made to leave. Quiet country roads took us to our campground, the Jim Barnett Reserve, and I enjoyed hearing stories of this year’s early Tour Aotearoa as I rode with Tony – I had it easy in 2016!

Through a little bit of native bush, we arrived and set up camp. I still have not used my bivy bag – opting again to roll my sleeping bag out in the two-walled shelter. It was certainly warm enough. Alas, the water supply was turned off. Tony and I trekked to a nearby farmhouse and, after being plied with piping hot tea, returned with enough water for many of us to cook our various meals and hot beverages. Dinners were cooked, eaten and much was discussed as our small group lazed in the shelter. A very pleasant evening in good company.

Having not taken the Monday off work, my plan was to ride Days Two and Three on Sunday, get back to Rotorua and drive the few hours home that evening. I decamped, and set off some time before eight. When I made this plan, it was only to be about 120 km of riding – I should be back at my car early afternoon. I did not account for a partial closure of the Waikato River Trail, which meant the day started with a detour adding about an hour to the riding.

The detour had the effect of me modifying my route to ensure I got back to Rotorua to meet various people on time. As it happened, this meant that I skipped the sections of trail I’d ridden previously and spent about ninety percent of the day riding places I’d not yet taken a bike. I thoroughly enjoyed the detour, especially the gravel section, of Mangare and Huirimu Roads. Once again at the YoYo bakery in Mangakino (it has become a regular stopping point) it felt like another two-pie day (their steak and mushroom of comparable high quality to the previous day’s), I ate and took enough away to make sure I didn’t need to stop at another store over the remaining seventy-odd kilometres.

Earlier on Sunday approaching Arapuni – it was far brighter, warmer and more pleasant. The souwester was still a nagging presence for much of the day.

The part of the set-route I was most looking forward to was the only part I’d not ridden before – the final section of the Waikato River Trail. That is, the Whakamaru to Atiamuri section. Twenty-three kilometres of good fun! In parts fast, in other parts little pinch climbs appeared, along with some twists and all following the Waikato upstream. I was not disappointed, it was thoroughly enjoyable. The trail was in fantastic condition too – not too wet or too dry; also, it was deserted on a fine, Sunday afternoon.

A brief stop opposite a youth camp, on an island over a causeway, that I’m reasonably certain I went to at least once as a child. I vaguely remember go karts…

Done. Time for a snack and to get back to Rotorua.

Conscious of the time and having previously ridden the hilly, gravelled back route through Ngakuru – I opted for the quiet State Highway 30 back to town. With the wind at my back, the gradual climb from one catchment to the next wasn’t too much for my legs. At the watershed, I crossed back into the Bay of Plenty and the weekend’s riding was all but over.

An excellent, leisurely little outing – I was a little sad to not to stick around with the group, but I had a great time riding with others and solo. Not to mention, I now have plenty to ponder from riding a different bike. What will my next one be like, where will it take me? Time shall tell…