Category Archives: NZ

Bikepacking Waikaremoana – Wairoa to Rotorua

The possibility of riding between home (Napier) and Rotorua had been mentioned a couple of times at work by Steve and me. While not initially put off by the idea, the thought of doing over two-hundred kilometres of highway (the start hilly and quite narrow) in one day rather discouraged me. Then a cycle-tourist who stayed the night carried on north to Wairoa and then rode the Waikaremoana highway. This is a highway in the loosest sense of the word – winding its way through the rugged and remote Te Urewera National Park, it is mostly gravel, sees little traffic and there are few settlements along the way. It is, however, yet another beautiful part of the country.

Convinced of the brilliance of a two-day bikepacking trip through the area, I just had to bring Steve around to the idea of a lot of unsealed-road riding. Although he’d never been bikepacking or cycle-touring, it wasn’t hard to get Steve onboard with the promise of a big, new type of adventure. A representative triathlete, I was a bit worried I wouldn’t be able to keep up with Steve as he’s one of those people who is so unbelievably active, it’s tiring just thinking about it; also, with Steve’s sizeable dose of Fear-of-Missing-Out I shouldn’t have been surprised he was a surefire starter-for-ten for my mad (the general consensus around the office as our plans leaked out) idea.

Unfortunately, we didn’t even got to Wairoa on our first attempt as I, unusually, got ill just in time for New Year’s weekend. This worked out well, as the weather turned horrid over much of the North Island that long-weekend – I was glad not to be out riding in such weather and sleeping in a tent. All the details worked out well for a repeat attempt the following weekend, so off we set for Wairoa early that Saturday morning. Delightfully, the fabled Osler’s Bakery was just opening as we drove into town – steak and mushroom pies are OK at eight o’clock in the morning for second breakfast, aren’t they? It was already 24ºC as we emptied the car and got our bikes and luggage sorted. It was clearly going to be a hot day, but we had all day to do 120-odd kilometres and the breeze blowing into us wasn’t too strong as we headed north over the Wairoa River and turned inland.

It was all rather flat for quite a while as we went up the broad river valley.

I was pleased to find classic Tip Top ice cream and Fanta advertisements on the side of a long-since-closed corner store in Frasertown.

I’m sure this sign is to warn off inexperienced gravel-road drivers and people who expect state highways in NZ to be up to a much higher standard than some (read: most) of them are. For the bikepacker, this serves to add to the anticipation for lightweight travel through remote places; I was well pleased to see this sign.

It was still all smiles as we had plenty of practice taking photos while riding along. This a particularly good one of Steven’s thumb, and for a change I make a photographic appearance in my own blog.

The sealed road ended after about thirty kilometres, but the climbing up to Lake Waikaremoana didn’t start in earnest for another fifteen or so. Another advantage of not doing this trip the previous weekend, was a lack of public-holiday traffic. That being said, there was a fair few people returning from the lake with boats and caravans at the end of their holidays. But the surface was good and we never had a problem with the traffic. Even the persistent norwester wasn’t too much of a hindrance on such a fine day – it had more of a cooling effect than a slowing one.

Taking a slight detour off the highway, we began a little side-tour; that of the Waikaremoana Hydro Power Scheme. This the lowest of three small power stations linked together, all using water flowing from the Lake Waikaremoana.

Riding across the dam of the hydro lake at Tuai – the power station in the distance. Most of our riding was now surrounded by either water or vast expanses of native bush.

First swim stop of the day for Steve.

As is quite common, a small town (large village, really) was to be found near this hydro power scheme. This one, Tuai, obviously built for the construction of the dams & powerhouses and still looking in really good condition. Just a representative house that I happened to snap while riding past.

We rejoined the highway and the climbing continued, but never steeply. Here we look back down to Tuai.

We lost a bit of altitude taking another detour to the third power station, Kaitawa. These penstocks bring water down from Lake Waikaremoana after it’s travelled through a tunnel. It was at this point Steve suggested we should ride up there as a shortcut; I suggested he go jump in the lake while I had first-lunch.

A rather reflective sign about the power scheme: in case anyone still cares and so I can stop banging on about it so much.

Quite picturesque really, despite the infrastructure. We set off on a short walk around the lake, but it never opened up and gave us good access to or views of the lake. So we turned back.

Steve did take that second swim, while I enjoyed my bacon & egg pie from Osler’s. Only when he tried to get out of the tailrace, did Steve realise the walls were really quite high.

We did make it up the access road beside the penstocks – it did save a bit of backtracking distance and in our granny gears the 20+% gradient was OK.

After that steep climb, we were pretty much at lake (Waikaremoana) level after about five hours and sixty kilometres. From there it was undulating for seven kilometres around the lake edge to Home Bay and second-lunch. You may have noticed a bit of a theme here: not travelling solo meant taking a large tent, which somehow Steve ended up with (still didn’t really help me to tire him out). Which in turn meant I had a lot more room on my bike to carry delicious, and necessary, food.

Finally, more of Panekire Bluffs came into view – much as I remember them from my last visit to the area to do the three-day hike around the lake with Adele.

Once again it proved impossible to keep Steve out of the water – just a swim across Home Bay & back this time, about a mile. I sat under a tree and enjoyed the $80/kg pastrami from the store at the campground.

Following the north edge of the lake on pretty flat road (now with even less traffic than not-much), I was confident that we would easily make the saddle and highest point on the route well before we’d had enough for the day or run out of daylight.

When we rode over the bridge atop Mokau Falls, we didn’t even realise they were there – let alone, that they looked like this.

This was our final view of Panekire Bluffs, perhaps the best yet.

Heading away from the lake towards the saddle, it was a gradual climb up a gentle valley shaded by the dense bush on our left. Crossing from Hawkes Bay to Bay of Plenty it wasn’t long until the summit. While the route was an awful long gravel road, it was interspersed with short stretches of seal – mostly around settlements and on any steep hills. Over the saddle I was pleased that the steep descent was sealed – my cross tyres proving a bit sketchy on anything too loose and fast.

We’d heard much of wild horses all over the road once over the saddle. Here, our first sighting; also memorable as just past all those cars was our first being-chased-by-a-fierce-dog experience of the trip (something else we’d also be warned about).

We took the opportunity to fill water bottles at a derelict motel in Ruatahuna – I haven’t got sick yet – before a few kilometres up to where there was supposed to be a campground. At least I was hoping so, details were elusive online – I think it was once a DOC campsite, but no longer. Anyway, it was there with a picnic table, plenty of space, a toilet, the Whakatane River in its infancy and masses of persistent sandflies (a bit like Scottish midges, small bitey insects that attack by stealth [unlike mosquitoes]). Steve made camp and just for a change from lakes, got in the river for his fourth swim of the day while I whistled up the culinary delights that are freeze-dried meals.

What a fantastic day’s riding – great route, excellent scenery, lovely summer weather, plenty of food, good adventuring company and even a bit of engineering history. Well pleased and well worth the effort.

Our set-up for the evening, I probably should have been not still sitting down.

We even had blue ducks visit our campsite! An endangered species native to NZ, they feature on our ten dollar note/bill and I don’t think I’ve ever seen one before. Fortuitously, we didn’t even have to go searching for them, as they can be hard to find (obviously, they’re endangered & therefore rare) – they came to us.

A few of the locals dropped in for an evening graze.

After a warm, surprisingly restless night considering the previous day’s efforts it was a leisurely start to the day. Fueled up on porridge and many other snacks (jerky for breakfast? – if you’re going to carry excess food, you may as well eat it) we were on our way. The morning had cooled a fair bit and it was slightly cloudy too – just as well we started with an easy climb to warm us up again. Seemingly in the middle of nowhere, we came across a fair few people just walking along the otherwise deserted road. Rather odd, until we got to a rather small settlement with a marae.

Our gentle climb to start the day, just kept on going and turned out to take us to the highest point of the day – we were done with it within an hour and the road turned back to seal (mostly) for the screaming descent to the Minginui turn-off. And that was the gravel road riding done for the day – things weren’t quite so interesting as we got out of the remoter areas. Actually, things started to look vaguely familiar. When Dad was a dairy management consultant in the Bay in the ’90s, this area was on the outer edges of one of his patches. So when we stopped to talk to local roadies on their Sunday morning rides (not a cafe stop in sight out here), I recognised a fair few place names.

The steelwork of destroyed picnic tables makes for great bike-stands; here at the highest point of the second day – looking back over the Ureweras.

We stopped at this old service station shortly before Murupara to fill water bottles – we’d been warned about the dogs in town, so avoided that.

From Murupara it was a twelve or so kilometre climb up through boring plantation forest with fast-moving traffic into the wind. Definitely not with the pleasure of the previous day’s riding. Still, the closer we got to Rotorua the more familiar things seemed. We started passing places I remember from my first bike tour twenty years ago (crikey) – a school holiday camp.

It was strange seeing Mt Tarawera looming up from a different angle – but all the same, there it was.

We turned off the highway just before Rainbow Mountain and joined the Te Ara Ahi for our final stretch to Rotorua and Steve’s car. Stopping at Lake Okaro (a rather nice little lake I didn’t even know was there – there are many lakes in the area) to finish off the food for lunch, I was surprised that Steve didn’t have a swim. There’s a slim chance he was getting a little tired, but I think it unlikely. Heading west from Waimangu, we bore the brunt of a vigourous westerly – it was awful. But then the cycle trial turned for twenty kilometres of downhill to town – the wind didn’t matter so much then. I don’t recommend that cycle trail – it’s basically a concrete path right next to the highway: dead boring and quite horrible.

At least it was an easy finish to a most excellent adventure – with a bit of luck I’ve opened Steve’s eyes to the possibilities of exploring all sorts of places by bike. We got to Steve’s parents’ place, cleaned up, ate a bit more and filled the car.  Somehow we fitted in three bikes, all our touring luggage, some Christmas presents, two collapsible workshop benches and countless tools.

Cape Palliser – Bottom of the North Island

With not a lot planned for Christmas (mainly due to not having enough spare annual leave to make the trip south worthwhile), I was pleased to get an invite to my uncle & aunt’s down in Martinborough. My cousins were also due to be there from Wellington & Sydney it was a great opportunity for catching up with all – especially to see Sasha & Blair who have had two sons since I last saw them (they left London & returned to NZ around the time I moved to Canada in 2010, I think).

After a day or two of festivities, warm sunshine, relaxing and generally having a good time I was itching for a little bike ride. Funnily enough, I’d come prepared with a bike in the car and a route in mind. In the depths of my mind I knew Cape Palliser was the southern-most point of the North Island, but I’d never had any reason to go there – until the day after Boxing Day.

Trying to beat the heat, I set off before the rest of the house was up – the road towards the coast is pretty straight and flat so the going was easy with a light tail breeze. Hitting the coast about two hours in and over the only hill worth mentioning on the whole ride, the breeze was different – a cooling, but hindering, southerly. As I expected, from my ride around the coast a little further west earlier in the year (Bikepacking from Wellington to Martinborough), the coast was reasonably rugged here too. But on such a nice day, remarkably beautiful too.

This memorial testified as to how dangerous this coast could be for passing ships.

Like that previous ride, I expected this remote stretch of coast to be pretty deserted. But there were many more genuine Kiwi baches down here than I expected. Being prime holiday season, this meant there was more traffic on the road than is almost certainly normal – but not enough to be a problem. Pleasingly in amongst the baches (a bach being Kiwi slang for a small holiday house – traditionally quite small and cobbled together at low cost) I struggled to spot any pretentious holiday homes; the one or two newer houses I saw blended in pretty well.

Also, there was less gravel road than I thought – only the last seven kilometres past Ngawi to the cape. Of course, rounding the cape the headwind strengthened – and the gravel was quite corrugated, annoyingly so as the speed I was capable of into the wind seemed to match the frequency of the corrugations in a most horrible way. Nonetheless, I was at the bottom of the island for the first time – in about the three hours I expected. Such a rocky promontory, of course, deserves a lighthouse.

My legs were thrilled to find that the beacon was at the top of the longest straight staircase I’m pretty sure I’ve ever seen – 254 steps straight up. Still, I didn’t ride all this way to not get the view – so I clip-clopped up in my bike shoes.

Ngawi seems to be where bulldozers come to retire to a life of occasionally launching small fishing boats out to see on large cradles – & then retrieving them later, one presumes. There were dozens of them in various states of repair. It was all rather curious.

Apparently, this one would be called Byron; I’m a little glad that I had to look that up.

At least going back on the gravel road the wind was at my back – so the bumps in the gravel were less noticeable. As I left the stunning coast, the wind was back to the nor-easter coming down the valley – which managed to sap most of my energy five kilometres from home. Pleased with a nice six hours on the bike finding yet another part of NZ I’ve not been to before.

After refuelling and cleaning up a bit, we popped down for a drink on the square in the centre of town. Looking quite of place (I suppose they/we usually do), three fully loaded bikepackers rolled in and stopped at the adjacent cafe (on Surly Krampii if anyone is interested). I couldn’t resist going & chatting to them – they were nearing the end of a week-long reconnaissance of the lower half of the North Island part of the Tour Aotearoa route. So it was interesting to hear of the beauty of the ride I hope I’m doing in two months’ time.

With (cousin) Chris having to get an early train the following morning to start the journey back to Sydney and the considerable amount of catering Antoinette & David had done the previous days, it was somewhat appropriate that we went out for a delicious Thai meal that night. That is because I figure the last time I had Christmas with my cousins was when David was a diplomat in Thailand and we went over for a Christmas-time visit. A bit of rather irrelevant Pheasant history there; hopefully it’s not so long between drinks (Christmases) next time – as I really enjoyed my weekend away. Although, I hear there’s a family wedding next year – so that should be fun.

Unfortunately, this weekend’s bikepacking adventures were put on ice as the New Year’s weather forecast was horrendous up towards Rotorua and I’ve been unusually ill – which is rather tedious, but hopefully next weekend works out.

The Christmas Letter 2015

Looking back at this year, I can safely say it’s worked out better than I imagined it would when, in last year’s Christmas missive, I wrote: “I’ll slowly start looking for a job in the new year, hoping to find one that means I can live in a large town/small city that has easy access to good mountain-biking – I think then there would be a chance I may be able stay still for a while and not spend so much time and money on travelling…”!

As it turns out, I did rather slowly, in fits & starts, look for a job at the beginning of the year. I was rather picky in what I was applying for, so I had plenty of time to spend time with family, ride bikes, visit friends and travel a little around NZ. Highlights before starting a job were:

My first brevet – the Kiwi Brevet – 1150 km of self-supported riding around the top of the beautiful South Island. I was pleased to finish in a few hours short of seven days.

A bit of time in and around Wellington catching up with friends and family – with some bikepacking thrown in to keep the legs happy/wrecked. The photo above from an excellent day’s ride around the coast from Wellington to Martinborough – a spectacular coastline so close to the capital.

A few weeks further up the North Island meant a bit more easy bike touring visiting friends and family, a quick trip over to Sydney to see family (particularly my aging grandfather) and an excellent wedding of family friends over Easter.

Two trips to Westport to visit Adele in her home-for-now were of course filled with plenty of adventure: caving, hiking, and more biking. This picture from the spectacular Old Ghost Road trail – which has since been completed, I’m very much looking forward to riding it in its entirety.

This photo from the other memorable ride from those trips – the Heaphy Track. It’s spectacular! Disappointed not to be able to ride the whole thing due to weather at the first attempt, the two-day Heaphy-Double James & I did was great fun and slightly-epic.

During the second Westport trip I’d secured a job as a process engineer again – it ticked all my most important boxes: in a plant that makes something, a good small city (Napier) to live in, some mountain-biking and a feasible bike-commute. So after quite a few months enjoying staying with Mum & Dad in their new home and exploring the area, I moved north to become a North Islander again.

Just like that I’ve settled into a strangely normal non-wandering life. I’m liking the work (it’s still novel after five months); disturbingly quickly I bought a house; this city is great with its climate, history and beautiful art deco; the local produce and wine is exceptional – along with the Farmers Markets; there is mountain-biking next door to work and plenty of gravel roads to explore in the hills. Much to my surprise, I found Italian language lessons locally – so that’s a complete bonus. I’m still a little amazed it’s worked out this well so far.

Arranging the purchase of my first home-of-my-own and then moving in and furnishing it has taken much of the last few months. Well worth it though – I can have visitors!

A few pictures from around home:

Probably the most astonishing news of my year is that which sees me now own a road bike. It’s great for the commute, but I’m still to be won over for distances longer than that. I only really post it here so Grandad may see it, although I may have left it too late for him to comprehend; not that I’ll ever get to his standard of extreme road adventures.

That’s about my year. Not too much on the horizon for next year (except one ride I signed up for without really considering the consequences of doing so) – still enjoying having a place to call home and not having a great desire to travel some distance at every opportunity. Assuredly, there will be bike adventures to be had and I’m hoping for at least a couple of trips south.

Merry Christmas to all (although I’m struggling to believe it’s actually Christmas) and all the best for the coming year. If it happens to bring you to Napier, get in touch.

Mangatutu Hot Springs Bikepacking Overnighter

Even before I moved to Napier (albeit the day before) I was told of some hot springs up the hills to the west of town. Being at the end of a long gravel road, that it is almost two hours’ drive from home for a relatively short distance hints at the sort of country one must pass through to reach the reward of a hot soak. Any suitable opportunity to go up there and do a bit of hiking was not forthcoming and a quick look at the map had me thinking such a route would make a great bikepacking trip from home.
I wasn’t wrong. After a large Saturday lunch and vaguely remembering where everything camping is supposed to go on my bike, I set off for the hills. Into the foothills on a day of patchy clouds and a cooling (and helpful) southerly, the climbing was modest for thirty-odd kilometres – a good opportunity to get used to a cumbersome loaded bike again. Weekend traffic was light and the views started to stretch further afield.

Loaded up again for, hopefully, another summer of bikepacking adventures.

Progress was steady, as was the climbing and three hours in a plateau at about 600 m was reached. I was surprised to see a reasonably sized school at Patoka, and a golf course at Puketitiri – unfortunately the little school there closed some years ago. I was chased remarkably well by a spirited fox terrier – that thing must have topped thirty kilometres per hour. Thankfully I have no fang marks around my ankles.

It was three-quarters of the trip before the seal ended and the gravel started – mercifully it has been a long time since it was last graded, so the tracks were smooth. There was so little traffic I enjoyed riding on the right hand side of the road as if I was back in the northern hemisphere. In the early evening light, everything started looking even nicer and the Kaweka Ranges came into view.

The road kept dropping down a fair bit before remembering it really should be around 600 m, energy levels dropped accordingly. But I was pleased my legs weren’t really complaining. As I entered the DOC (Dept. of Conservation) land the flowering manuka (tea-tree) stands were staggering. The little white flowers blanketed the hillsides, I’m quite sure I’ve never seen so much manuka in bloom before.

My arrival at the campground at the end of the road was greeted by all sorts of astonishment. They said I was mad for biking all the way in here – “but I built it all the same”. Perhaps I was, but that’s fine as I quickly found a secluded little spot to pitch my tent, cook my dinner and marvel in the beauty of the area and just how fantastic the afternoon was. I was well chuffed with the little adventure.

Water bottles topped up from a steep walk down to the Mohaka River, it was time to reward my muscles with a hot soak. A short walk down the hill from the campground are two small pools which are filled by water flowing down from a spring above. I must have sat in, or half-in, there for a good two hours. The campground was well populated, but not overly so as I imagine it will be in a few days, and there was a steady stream of people to chat to. It was a little strange being treated as a crazy-man/minor celebrity for being the guy that biked all the way in – but everyone was very generous and after a couple of offered drinks I had to start turning them down. The oddest thing was a young guy who went all the way back up the hill to get a cooker so he could have pancakes – hot pool pancakes and ice cream were quality.

After a fitful sleep and a leisurely Sunday morning start to the day, I got to ride down all the hills I’d ridden up (but there were still a reasonable number to ride up) and get chased by the same dog again before returning home twenty-four hours, to the minute, after departing. Such fun!