Ten days between returning from the excellent West Coast bikepacking tour and setting off for the 2020 edition of the Hawke’s Bay Anniversary Tour was always going to be a bit rushed for sorting out the last minute details. Still all the things were done: farm inductions, finalising the tracking, answering the emails and questions, assembling my bike, getting overly excited and following up a last minute section through stunning private land, adding said section to the route and so on. From a few days out I noticed my hours of sleep gradually decrease to about three hours per night and the telltale tic of tiredness return for the first time in some years.

Twas all worth it though to have fourteen riders assemble at Ranui Farm Park the Thursday night before the four day long weekend. That worked really well (save an annoying miscommunication with room bookings), getting to see everyone for some hours before the ride started at dawn the following morning. So good to have half the field returning riders and get to meet for the first time other people I’d only exchanged emails with.

Friday morning and ready to go before sunrise.

Finally, I could challenge myself on the course I’d designed to be as such, and interesting to me. Turns out more time should have been paid to my pedals, as one promptly fell to pieces and slid off the spindle still attached to my foot. Bit of a showstopper, but as far as a place to have such things happen – one kilometre from the start is about as good as any on a remote course. Sad to see everyone else go, I turned and hoped Greg hadn’t left for Napier already. Phew, he was still there and we were soon heading home – where I swapped in pedals from another bike and made the drive back. The crazy amount of fog from just north of the start all the way to Napier persisted for the drive’s entirety, but strangely was not on the course at all.

Three hours later I was back on the route and wondering if I’d still make my goal of being back in Napier that night. A nice gentle start, in this crazy year it was a privilege to be out riding such a ride with or without the group ahead. Seeing many tyre tracks in the gravel reminded me of this and brought a smile to my face – some of it may have been a touch of pride that I’d somehow convinced people to get out and spend their long weekend on a course I’d designed. They may or may not trust me in such a way again.

Still flat, not for long.

A three hour delay wasn’t really that frustrating, after all I was soon out riding in the sun drenched countryside.

Diverting from last year’s course, the hills quickly began on a section I love. But first, a long moment to pause on the the very spot where a couple of months before I’d met a fantastic farmer who generously allowed us to ride through his farm. Tragically he’s gone far too young after a freak accident on the farm; I only chatted to Harry for quarter of an hour, yet it’s had quite an impact – part of it, another reason to savour being able to get out and make the most of opportunities presented. Eventually back riding – a dead-end road, a hilly farm crossing and then a blissful section with twenty kilometres of gravel, views of the ocean and surrounding farmland, grass up the middle of the little used road and then the long descent to sea level…

After noon by now, the store and excellent coffee cart at Porangahau was most welcome for chatting and refuelling before the steep climb up Old Hill Rd. Was a little mean putting that on the course, but the gradual downhill from the top is, I think, worth it. With over twenty kilometres to go to the beach, the tide would be mostly out by the time I arrived. Along the coastal section of Blackhead Rd, I was entertained by a stunt plane practising – a spectacular show which seemed just for me. The climb at the end of the road was not far from my mind, but conquered as I began to slow a hundred kilometres in.

The tide was still heading out, the sand not yet firm and for the first time that day a headwind – toughest trip on this beach yet.

It was encouraging to see so many people out on the beaches – camping, fishing, diving, walking, on motorbikes. Far more than we saw last year, mostly I expect because the weather was far better. Finding a hose to rinse my bike was a chance to chat to a local and top up water bottles before the big climb out of Pourerere. It’s a good one and I found my first other HBATer of the day at the top – another good opportunity for a chat. I thought I was just going to be on time to cross the second farm before night fell – when riding through was not allowed.

More wonderful, deserted gravel back down to sea level and Kairakau. A lovely evening it was shaping up to be. Stopping at the shearers quarters I found four other riders preparing to make use of the generous offer of accommodation from the farmer – alas the water supply was down. Time was tight for me to get up the big hill, but I, and the others, thought I could do it. Thankfully I know the route well enough, so I was not slowed by route finding difficulties; but I was starting to fade and on the steep, rugged grass farm track pushing my bike became more efficient than trying to ride.

South to all the places I’d just been.

There were far more gates to open and close this year, and plenty of stock around (those two not unrelated). Light fading for the big downhill, I certainly was cutting it fine. Quite the trade-off to make the most of the available light, but not reckless on rough farm tracks in the gathering gloom. Just out before dark, phew, and towards Waimarama. Half-eight by now and completely dark, my plan for making it home hadn’t really changed. It probably should have as I walked anything remotely steep up the last big climb; very odd – I have never come close to walking up Maraetotara Rd, steep as it is, before. Strange thing, I was never in any doubt that I’d make it home – one just had to keep on going.

Suddenly rain on the downhill, it didn’t last long and there was but forty kilometres home. That was just over two hours, and I was pleased to see I’d missed much more rain. Bike in the garage and into my house to sneak around trying not to wake a houseful of fellow bikepackers. I think I managed it, but couldn’t bring myself to find too much food lest I disturb people that had had just as big a day of riding as me. My poor body probably needed the fuel to mend a bit.

Head racing, I hardly slept again and woke early when the house rose to head north for a much tougher day of riding. Completely shattered, I dragged myself up and deliberated whether I should continue the course. I’d at least not fallen into the trap of scratching at the end of the day, instead waiting to see what morning would bring. As it was, there was no energy and a deep fatigue from the previous day and week. Everyone having left, I had nothing and couldn’t rouse myself to a day of many hills that I couldn’t have a good shot at.

So I was left with the ignominy of pulling out of my own ride only a day and one-third in. Disappointing to say the least; and a fair amount of worry that I’d made a ridiculous course that no one would enjoy – funny how those voices materialise. But I knew I was dog-tired and resolved to look after myself and not beat myself up too much. I tried to remind myself that I ride such places for enjoyment; if it’s not fun on some level, there’s little point.

In the end, few made it past Napier and no one finished the 750 km route. Four did amazingly well to make it through the many hills inland of Wairoa and pulled out before the last hundred-odd kilometres back to Napier; I think I misstepped in ending the route in Napier to try and help people with travel logistics. Plenty of things learned again; they may be useful if I find the enthusiasm and energy to run another HBAT. In separating my own disheartening HBAT from the weekend in general: people got out riding bikes, seeing new places in good weather, being challenged and spending time with friends new and old – so I’m counting that as a win.

Since then, I took a couple of weeks doing comparatively little and dealing with the disappointment of my own ride and the tiredness. I was unsure if my excitement for doing big bikepacking rides would return, which was concerning with two big South Island adventures coming up late-summer. Unfortunately I could not get up for the Mega ten days ago, but with a couple of shorter and less ambitious bikepacking trips over the last two weekends, the keenness to ride far and see plenty of new things is slowly returning – huzzah!