Andrew and I have long discussed his dream of linking two coastal cities with a bikepacking route that stays close to the east coast. I was excited to be invited along for a weekend’s ride to explore part of his route for the first time. All new country to me, there ended up being eight of us in the group. With accommodation and main meals (I’m counting breakfasts along with dinners, as they were large) sorted, the bike was lightly loaded for the short route.

After the first of those large breakfasts, we left the most-hospitable Herbertville Inn in good time on Saturday morning. The first few flat kilometres of road south along the coast I realised I had seen before while visiting the area with my parents a few years before.

Didn’t look like this then. Cape Turnagain – a useful landmark for seeing how far we’d gone later in the ride.

Into Akitio Station and a nice little warm-up climb to start to put that breakfast to good use.

We quickly began to see the extensive pine plantations Andrew had mentioned – one reason, I assume, the road through the farm was so substantial and in good condition.

The last of the clear skies for the weekend.

The forecast was for southeasterlies off the sea, which would at some stage bring some rain. It held off pretty well.

Most of the way up the largest climb of the weekend, just a touch on four hundred metres above the ocean.

Waiting for the others at the summit (I did have twenty-odd years on them, and was carrying much less too), I found this venerable old grader to sit and pose for too many photos.

Twas a lovely climb up through these pines.

Cooling down waiting for a while, I dropped off the top before finding some more trees to shelter behind and wait for us to regroup.

Further along, this ridge opened up for us before the drop back to sea level.

Heading out the front entrance of our first station.

A brief section into and then up out of Akitio took me back to about the only TTW training ride I managed before popping my shoulder. A good section of riding gravel with Gerard ensued as we headed up the Owahanga valley a bit, before crossing the river and heading downstream for Owahanga Station.

All the shelter around the visitor sign-in hut seemed to be asking to be used for a lunch break. We obliged.

Bit of a grovel on full stomachs.

Castlepoint and Castle Rock in the distance, but of more immediate interest to me was the lighter coloured hill in front.

Down to the coast we dove again before a nice section next to the ocean.

Another slight rise took me to what was a divergence in the GPS track and the farm road. When Andrew asked me to plot the route through the farms, I didn’t have a lot of detail to go on. Here I used the only track that connected on the topo map, but on the ground the road we were happily following stayed inland and descended. For some reason, no one else was keen to head up to check out the view from the hill I’d spied previously.

In such good conditions, I was confident I’d be ok off solo – I was hardly going to fall into the sea. The track quickly disappeared into tussocks, across fences and then into a big slump. The coastal views were certainly better than staying on the inland, low road.

Happily I shouldered my bike and negotiated my way across the big slip and then up the paddock until something resembling a farm track reappeared. More pushing and then some actual riding and I was nearing the top.

Looking out on all the clouds, I was unsure as to how we’d managed to stay dry all day.

From the summit I could easily see the track down, partway down it had been recently bulldozed – I flew down to the river and was surprised to go screaming past the others as they approached the bridge on the low road. Out of the farm, gravel around the coast took us past some curious little baches nestled in pines. Certainly well shaded. The slightest of hills and I was in Castlepoint by three, soon joined by the others as we settled into roomy accommodation.

Having only ridden seventy kilometres, albeit on some engaging new territory with 1600 m of climbing, over seven hours – I still had energy left. Energy that I was keen to spend running around somewhere I’d not been before. In a small area there was a beach to run down, a lighthouse and headland to check out and a big coastal rock to scramble up. That was a good little run, I even managed to pull up ok having run in my biking shoes.

Crayfishing boats resting for the night.

That was a fun scramble; at least the rock was super grippy.

Checking out tomorrow’s riding.

Cape Turnagain looking a bit further off now.

With cooler, stronger winds and more rain forecast, tired legs and a long drive home – Sunday’s plan reverted to the original: heading to Riversdale, not quite fifty kilometres away through Castlepoint Station and along backroads. The rain mostly held off, the wind didn’t slow us too much and we had plenty more time riding next to the Pacific. The hills were even smaller than the previous day. Only coming off the largest one did I have to don my raincoat.

Through Castlepoint Station.

Heading out from Otahome.

Oh, Castle Rock again.

Plenty of time to wait here out of the rain, not much to do apart from pick up litter.

It cleared a bit?

Still checking out the Whareama sights.

Into Riversdale by half-eleven, it had a been a nice leisurely morning along the coast. I spent much of it by myself, but with a short day and a lightly loaded bike I enjoyed pushing the legs around a bit harder than I usually do. Andrew, a far better organiser of such rides than I, had even arranged for hot showers at the Surf Club – spoilt! That was probably prudent, considering we’d have four hours or so in the van together.

With a bit of time to spare, getting an ice cream and heading to the beach seemed just the ticket – never mind the rain.

Loaded up for the trek back to Napier.

What a great weekend exploring new places with excellent company and plenty of fascinating sights and stories. Thanks for inviting me along Andrew, I eagerly await the completed route…