Having driven little-known forestry roads to get to the fabulous Moerangi Track last winter, on the return home I couldn’t get the idea of an ambitious weekend bikepacking loop out of my mind. With minimal driving after work on a Friday, many Hawke’s Bay and some Bay of Plenty backroads could be explored. That night, HBOP was compiled; it only took until mid-summer to find a free weekend to ride it (worth noting that the winter weather was warmer than much of the weekend we just had!). Pete, with similar inclinations to explore new backroads (although I’m surprised there’s much of the North Island he’s not ridden) and much more time than me for such trips, was keen to join in – didn’t get any other takers, can’t imagine why.
So with a cool, cloudy and damp weekend forecast we drove the road north from work and started riding at half-four. The thirty kilometres of highway was lumpy and quiet enough – bringing back memories of HBAT. The south-easterly, while cooling, was also at our backs and continued to help as we turned inland and climbed Putere Road. Past the Cricklewood turn-off, we dropped suddenly to Putere and Pete was on new roads. The Panekiri Range (that which is far more imposing from the far side of Lake Waikaremoana) was startlingly close, but shrouded in cloud.
Seems there are quite a few farms up here; we were on to Waireka Rd, leaving three others to return to and explore completely in the future.
I stopped and snapped a photo of Lake Rotonuiaha for, quite randomly, a fishing app that I was contacted out of the blue about.
The descent to the Waiau River was steep gravel, it would have been much faster but due to the grade was some of the most corrugated gravel I’ve ridden in a long time. No wonder steep rural roads around these parts are often sealed in part.
A pause over the Waiau. Now I was on new roads, huzzah!
Heading upstream, things were momentarily flat; over a cattle stop and we turned away from the river and begun to climb. As Pete remarked, you know it’s remote when the pasture is not fenced from the road. We startled a herd of cattle, I don’t think they see many bikes, and they ran off ahead of us. Thankfully they were not corralled on the road and didn’t get too scary. A bit more climbing and a couple of switchbacks later we found them again.
Looking south over the Waiau, that prow in the background demands closer investigation; March: hopefully I can get back up here.
Surrounded by hills, everything was new – climbing four hundred metres steadily, I enjoyed trying to pick out the road across the valley in the gathering gloom. The folds in the hills as things darkened were fascinating, I certainly was looking forward to returning in some light.
Pleasingly, the drop to the Mangaone Stream didn’t steal all our hard-gained altitude. Nine o’clock by now, I was starting to fade and look for suitable shelter while Pete edged further ahead of me. We regained all the height we’d just lost before spying a tumbledown old building. We never worked out what it once was (unusual shearers’ quarters, perhaps), but it had a roof, walls and most of a floor. Luxury – who needs doors and windows anyway? I thought it might be exposed to the southerly, but it wasn’t too bad – we settled in for a decent night’s sleep. Assuredly a most excellent finish to the week – five hours of riding, plenty of climbing through some stunning hills, little traffic, good company and charming shelter to boot.
Huddled together in a corner for fear of falling.
Saturday morning view.
A palace to us.