My swollen left knee caused by a big Easter of biking slowly returned to normal. However, due to having favoured my knee to get through six hundred kilometres of pain – my lower right leg was messed up for a few weeks. Physio treatment just aggravated it and made walking excruciating, but finally the root of the problem was treated and things came right in time for the Mini GGG. I could walk normally again, and riding was even better – as normal.

I was keen to go on this more-social bikepacking event and meet some new people. Pete kindly lent me his spare bike (a bike that has completed the Tour Divide no less) – we decked it with borrowed bags and adjusted it for me Friday night. Saturday in Rotorua dawned misty with drizzle falling. It really wasn’t too bad by the time we rolled to the start at the very agreeable hour of ten o’clock.

The Mini GGG was more social than most bikepacking events I’ve done as the distances each day were short and the camping spots set. This meant that everyone camped together and, arriving late afternoon, we had plenty of time to make camp and hang out in the shelter cooking, eating and sharing various stories.

Eleven of us set off from the centre of Rotorua and followed a now familiar route to, up, along and off the Mamakus (I’d ridden this way on the first GGG and last year’s Mega Grind). The drizzle continued, but it wasn’t cold or windy – our steady pace was most pleasant and the climb was gradual.

What’s this? How am I at the front? This must be socially paced. Waiting in Mamaku for people to talk to…

Traversing along the top of the ranges, the rain petered out and we became more exposed to the souwester. Having regrouped, it was good to spend some time chatting to Erik (one of the two, Pete being the other, organisers of these wonderful GGGs) about his custom bike (I’m still deciding what to replace my stolen Ogre with) and his experiences writing and editing his soon-to-be-published account of riding Tour Aotearoa one and a half times. Riding in a group of about six there were plenty to chat to; we caught up to another two riders who had got a slight head start on the main group, bringing out total to thirteen.

Passing the highest point of our route, we turned into the wind and our group slowly spread. Definitely one of those days requiring concerted effort to get downhill. Still, it still wasn’t raining, the surface was good and I was thoroughly enjoying experiencing a different bike. Not much of a day for photos, I had little reason to stop and therefore rolled into Tokoroa looking for a good bakery.

Still finding it a little bewildering to be at the vanguard of our little fleet of bikepacking rigs, I settled in with a glorious steak and mushroom pie and other baked treats. Slowly everyone else rolled into town and about half of the group arrived to further deplete the pie stock (they were very good, I may have had another). It was very odd during an “event” sitting still for well over an hour; eventually getting antsy and feeling I should be riding, I made to leave. Quiet country roads took us to our campground, the Jim Barnett Reserve, and I enjoyed hearing stories of this year’s early Tour Aotearoa as I rode with Tony – I had it easy in 2016!

Through a little bit of native bush, we arrived and set up camp. I still have not used my bivy bag – opting again to roll my sleeping bag out in the two-walled shelter. It was certainly warm enough. Alas, the water supply was turned off. Tony and I trekked to a nearby farmhouse and, after being plied with piping hot tea, returned with enough water for many of us to cook our various meals and hot beverages. Dinners were cooked, eaten and much was discussed as our small group lazed in the shelter. A very pleasant evening in good company.

Having not taken the Monday off work, my plan was to ride Days Two and Three on Sunday, get back to Rotorua and drive the few hours home that evening. I decamped, and set off some time before eight. When I made this plan, it was only to be about 120 km of riding – I should be back at my car early afternoon. I did not account for a partial closure of the Waikato River Trail, which meant the day started with a detour adding about an hour to the riding.

The detour had the effect of me modifying my route to ensure I got back to Rotorua to meet various people on time. As it happened, this meant that I skipped the sections of trail I’d ridden previously and spent about ninety percent of the day riding places I’d not yet taken a bike. I thoroughly enjoyed the detour, especially the gravel section, of Mangare and Huirimu Roads. Once again at the YoYo bakery in Mangakino (it has become a regular stopping point) it felt like another two-pie day (their steak and mushroom of comparable high quality to the previous day’s), I ate and took enough away to make sure I didn’t need to stop at another store over the remaining seventy-odd kilometres.

Earlier on Sunday approaching Arapuni – it was far brighter, warmer and more pleasant. The souwester was still a nagging presence for much of the day.

The part of the set-route I was most looking forward to was the only part I’d not ridden before – the final section of the Waikato River Trail. That is, the Whakamaru to Atiamuri section. Twenty-three kilometres of good fun! In parts fast, in other parts little pinch climbs appeared, along with some twists and all following the Waikato upstream. I was not disappointed, it was thoroughly enjoyable. The trail was in fantastic condition too – not too wet or too dry; also, it was deserted on a fine, Sunday afternoon.

A brief stop opposite a youth camp, on an island over a causeway, that I’m reasonably certain I went to at least once as a child. I vaguely remember go karts…

Done. Time for a snack and to get back to Rotorua.

Conscious of the time and having previously ridden the hilly, gravelled back route through Ngakuru – I opted for the quiet State Highway 30 back to town. With the wind at my back, the gradual climb from one catchment to the next wasn’t too much for my legs. At the watershed, I crossed back into the Bay of Plenty and the weekend’s riding was all but over.

An excellent, leisurely little outing – I was a little sad to not to stick around with the group, but I had a great time riding with others and solo. Not to mention, I now have plenty to ponder from riding a different bike. What will my next one be like, where will it take me? Time shall tell…