Category Archives: NZ

Mangatutu Five

Tentatively thinking I was recovering from HBAT (which I’ve not found the time or energy to write up yet), a fine forecast was sufficient motivation to schedule my fifth annual overnighter to the Mangatutu Hot Springs. No longer a season opener, it’s still a great little trip and I look forward to it every year. For the third year consecutive trip, I managed to convince someone to join me which is great. Perhaps tellingly, no one has ever come back for a repeat!

Customary bike and kit photo outside the garage.

I’m probably the only one who finds the gradual change in setup over the years interesting. This year I was back on flat pedals (which I have since serviced, they did squeak a little too much), with a cooker packed, frame bag away for zipper repair and, with such a good forecast, no rain clothes and few layers for the night. Off I went rolling down the hill to meet Brent after lunch and set off west on the flat to Puketapu. The last shop we’d see, it’d have been rude not to have a milkshake or ice cream or some such.

The temperature, low twenties, and lack of rain was true to the forecast. The wind aspect not so much as we worked into a most-noticeable westerly along the river flats and then as the hills started mildly. So much greener out that way than my last visit six months ago; soon the familiar sight of the bare Kawekas came into view.

In farmland dominated by dry stock, I’m still mildly surprised to find diary farms in remote Hawke’s Bay hills.

The extra gravel section I added to the route last year was just as pleasing this time around, perhaps even more so as it wasn’t nearly as hot. Cutting north to Puketitiri Road, the wind started to swing a little southwest which was certainly welcomed.

Into Puketitiri itself for a water top-up at the golf course I’ve never seen in use, I was astounded to find the domain packed with cars and people. Turns out we’d happened across the annual local family sports day – postponed from March. We missed most of the action (moto cross, pony jumping etc.) and were slightly too early for dinner, but we did see a series of people trying to throw a sack of something over a high bar with a pitchfork. Most excellent to see such a large community gathering.

I’m told this is not uncommon.

We did see one go over.

Now having climbed six hundred metres above sea level, the part of the day of consistently losing that altitude to regain it soon after began. Ball’s Clearing provided some more water and a suitable snack break as we pondered whether we’d manage the final twenty kilometres before darkness crept in. Back on gravel, the next section with slight dips and rises is always pleasant through a high valley.

Not stopping to admire the view for the plunge down towards the Mohaka.

The first of the three remaining climbs always gives a bit of a shock with its steepness, it however doesn’t quite get back to 600 m. Dropping to the Makahu River, I became suspicious that it might be really high as a small collection of two wheel drive cars was parked where I’ve never seen vehicles left before. Sure enough, it was well over the safe level (for cars) and swift; after all, twas only five days since the extended downpour which flooded Napier properly. But with a firm concrete surface on the bed, it was easily waded – the first time I’ve not been able to ride across it.

Over the river, it’s straight into the toughest climb of the day; I was pleased it was not too hot. Light and energy fading, the last hill is plenty steep – but one doesn’t start from as low, so that helps a little maybe. Finally we were on the long, gentle descent to the road-end and the hot springs. With that river being high, there were few at the campground – we set to making camp, cooking and eating before a well deserved soak in the hot pools under a brilliantly starry sky. Another fabulous and tough afternoon’s ride to Mangatutu completed.

The extra base layer was quickly shed on Sunday morning after warming on the first two climbs out. There was plenty of time for stopping to soak it in, but mostly rest.

Custodian of the northern Kawekas.

Past some sheep shearing, which is not uncommon on this ride, we kept ticking off the “largest climb remaining” and the westerly proved helpful. Up and down towards the coast, on another clear day I again enjoyed the views and it struck me how much I’ve come to appreciate Hawke’s Bay scenery, and hills, over the last five years. I realise just now that’s the longest I’ve lived anywhere since school, I guess it’s become home somewhere along the way.

Back towards Puketapu, the sea breeze began to overpower the westerly so the last sections of flat seemed harder than they should have been – but that was probably in my head. Whichever, it was time for a giant ice cream at the store and the last little bit of riding home. After a cuppa at Brent’s and savouring an excellent outing, there was that last wee struggle to my house – the disadvantage of living up a hill, one’s rides always end with a climb. Proper exhausted for the rest of the day and the following one too – well worth it.

Rainy Return to Nelson

Rain fell on the iron roof of my little cabin much of the night; a slow start to the day was in order with a cooked breakfast and plenty of tea. The rain was consistent, but at least it was light as I rode a few miles of highway before turning off and heading up the Mangles Valley. The pleasant and gradual climbed steepened as my route (the first part of the day was on the Kiwi Brevet route I remember from 2015) headed up the good gravel to Braeburn Saddle. The wetting continued from above, the multiple large stream crossings thankfully were all rideable.

With nothing in the distance but clouds, there was plenty of time and attention to focus on the immediate surroundings – which I thoroughly enjoyed. After an hour, I was over the pass and concentrating on the descent to Lake Rotoroa. With the extra speed and spray, I was fair soaked through and barely comfortable from the air movement. I found a shelter at the lake (no sandflies today!), had some food and pondered whether I should take the much higher option of the Porika Track and put myself in the clouds for a couple of hours.

Eventually I figured an hour of pushing my bike three kilometres up a rugged track would probably warm me up a fair bit – and really, it wasn’t raining heavily and there was little wind. Perfect day to take my bike for a walk up a hill. It was not unpleasant and the rain never worsened, I kept a steady pace and finally got back on my bike at 1000 m high for the slightly mellower descent. Going the reverse direction in February will be interesting, will be a wild drop down to the lake.

Lake Rotoroa. Oh.

Out onto the minor highway to St Arnaud, it was much busier than usual as the main road from the Buller to Nelson was closed in part. The traffic wasn’t too bad on a Saturday afternoon, but with the spray and low visibility it wasn’t particularly fun. Also, it was one big false flat; I’m surprised now to check and see that there was almost two hundred metres of climbing in that seemingly flat stretch of road. In no real rush, it was just a case of continuing to move through the moisture – of course, most of it came with me as I was wet through. In town I found a cafe, sat outside and enjoyed a pie, tea and cheesecake – a strange mix looking back, but any combination of desirable food makes sense at such moments.

Rejoining all the rerouted traffic heading back to the city, I was now at the point of the return to sea level that almost any climb I now did would take me to the highest point I would be on for the rest of the trip. Which is a rather long way of saying, it was almost all downhill from there. At Golden Downs I was surprised to be reading history boards about a once thriving timber town, obviously that wasn’t only a thing closer to my North Island home. Here I turned off for a longer route home, leaving the traffic behind, and heading for a section of the Great Taste Trail I’d not ridden (even more has since opened in the month since).

The attraction on this part of the trail is Spooners Tunnel – it’s certainly not any tasty treats, I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything great on the trail; I may be missing the point. At over 1300 m long, it’s the longest disused tunnel in New Zealand and has only in the last few years been accessible. At the carpark nearby it was cool to stop and chat to a family with young kids going for a ride in the tunnel; I was impressed that this is their go-to rainy day activity. “It’s dry in there and we can ride our bikes!” – can’t fault that logic.

Back into the rain and gloom after the darkness of the tunnel, the long gradual rail-gradient descent to sea level commenced. Of course, decades since the railway closed, it is not as simple as following the rail corridor; things change. But it wasn’t too tortuous and the main road was mostly avoided. Somewhere around seven o’clock the rain began to back off and it finally stopped! Twelve hours after setting off I somehow found a way to add a large order of Indian takeout to my luggage and was on the final stretch of my little tour, looking forward to a big meal and getting dry.

What a fantastic two weeks! My first solo tour of more than a long weekend in years was thoroughly enjoyable. While the weather delayed and changed plans a little, it was such a luxury to have the time up my sleeve to change plans around the storms and it meant I had many excellent days riding in the areas I really wanted to ride – most excellent to spend time with friends old and new too. I certainly hope it’s not another five years before I’m back biking on the West Coast – so much to offer.

Old Ghost Road again, to Murchison

Late the night before leaving Reefton for the trip back to Nelson and the airport, I decided that was a silly and wasteful idea when I could go riding on the Old Ghost Road again. With the weather due to close in over the weekend, Rachel was keen to make the most of a sunny Friday – so off I rode thirty kilometres north to meet near Inangahua. There may have been pies for second breakfast at the recently reopened store.

Ditching the overnight gear from my bike, for the second time in the (non-)working week I was riding up to Lyell Saddle in excellent weather. A good pace was set, it was just as well I didn’t have the need to stop all the time and take photos. There were some big groups on the trail and we chatted to many of them, especially at the first hut – where we enjoyed a long snack break in the sun gazing over the south branch of the Mokihinui.

Things looking familiar indeed, I’m unsure one could tire of these views.

Out of the trees and onto the tops, for a change there was someone on a bike to snap pictures of.

The judicious use of fencing certainly helps make some of the riding less nerve wracking.

Reaching the highpoint, the snow had cleared from earlier in the week and the trail was all rideable.

Murchison can just be seen left of centre; my route there after the descent would far more circuitous.

Yes, it’s not just my bike escaping for these trips without me.

I’ve had far worse lunch spots.

Nothing for it but two hours of downhill on the gentle gradient we’d just climbed. Much fun and I didn’t ache too much from having no suspension. While I missed riding over Maruia Saddle, which is ever so pretty, it could hardly be said that I missed out with the Ghost Road day-trip option! Now I just had to finally start making my way back home. The thirty-five kilometres to Murchison started off lumpier than I was expecting, I may have been a bit lethargic from the previous two days of singletrack.

But it flattened out and I arrived in plenty of time to restock for the ride to Nelson, have dinner, find and check-in to the wonderful Riverview Holiday Park – where I bumped into Mike the Scout, whose house near Nelson I stayed in on my Tour Aotearoa almost five years ago. Much bikepacking talk ensued before I finally went to sleep in my wee cabin thoroughly satisfied with an unexpected day. It’s hard not to love the Old Ghost Road, and it’s definitely better with company.

Waiuta and Big River Day

A day waiting out the forecast rain (didn’t really eventuate until late) was well spent cleaning gear, walking the dog, planning the rest of my little tour, popping into town and really doing very little – there may have been a lot of tea. The following day was only marginally less restful, with a four hour ride on quiet, flat highways to Reefton. It was wonderful to be welcomed by friends I’d met when they were some of my very first warmshowers guests five summers ago; as is prone to happening in New Zealand, they just happened to know well the friends I’d just met and stayed with in Westport.

I figured I could either have one day in Reefton riding and then a relaxed two days getting back to Nelson before flying home, or two days riding in Reefton before a big rush to get back, pack my bike and catch a flight. With the weekend weather looking woeful, I was tending towards the relaxed option with plenty of time to dry out. Either way, I couldn’t wait to ride the Waiuta to Big River trail again. It was easily the highlight of my first bikepacking event, the Kiwi Brevet in 2015, and my Tour Aotearoa the year after.

Starting at the abandoned, and mostly gone, former gold mining town of Waiuta I remembered the trail being closer to a hiking trail with plenty of technical challenges and pushing on the old pack track, in dense forest where all the water is tainted brown. Twenty-odd kilometres on the highway preceded the gravel climb up the valley through Blackwater (a few houses, and a long since disused school room) to Waiuta. There was still a bit of snow to be seen in the distance and a few ruins briefly caught my eye.

Reaching the trailhead proper, the gradient kicked a little and the bush closed in around the track. Perhaps my memory tricks me, or I’m more experienced in such places or both – but I was most disappointed in the first hour of trail. It seemed to me that the trail had been heavily sanitised with a lot of gravel laid and it was easily rideable. That just gave more time to admire the surrounds, a vividly green, mossy, gnarled primordial looking forest.

Beginning to wonder if I was in the right place, very easy riding.

Dropping sharply through two tight switchbacks, suddenly the trail was back to the part I liked best.

The moss closes in…

Finally, the best part – the trail is literally the creek. Good fun trying to keep dry feet, and plenty of time to stop for photos.

I was even more underbiked this time around, but that hardly mattered – loaded only for a day trip certainly helped make the trail easier.

That short section had me grinning and satisfied all my expectations for the day.

In some places, granted, the trail was barely discernible.

Reaching the highpoint after climbing out of the creek, I was surprised when it started hailing for some time – I didn’t think it was that cold. Big River Hut was only fifteen minutes away, so I cruised down and sheltered for a short time from what was now rain. Fond memories of dotwatching best-sister switching shifts, travelling all the way from Westport and riding bits of my TA with me (in between shuttling her own vehicle) and staying in this hut together. We don’t get enough trips together and they’re always memorable – that one particularly so.

From the hut to the old gold treatment plant for the Big River Mine.

In continuing the trend, Big River is now bridged – which is entirely sensible as it tends to flood easily. Just twenty kilometres of four-wheel drive track out remained. Hard packed stone, I’m not sure a four-wheel drive is necessary and it’s quite a tedious descent being shaken to pieces for long periods – I definitely prefer to climb this section. That was the wettest I got all day, plenty of spray from the surface even though there were barely any puddles.

Back in Reefton with plenty of time to dry things out and poke around what is a charming little town – a good day out seeing a favourite place, albeit it in a different light to what my memory had me expecting.