Sneaking out before the house woke, an easy roll down through the city took us to the brilliant Coastal Pathway – always great seeing so many using such facilities, especially early in the morning.

The day promised to be cloudier than the previous few.

No views through the bridge of Taranaki today.

Leaving the pathway and the coastal area, we headed through Bell Block to ride on backroads looping back around to the highway at Urenui. Skirting a light industrial area was only mildly interesting because I saw plants where various people I’ve met on process safety courses over the last four years work. Unfortunately the road which is designated as part of the NZ Cycle Trail seems to be a main arterial route for many trucks going south from Bell Block; with no shoulder and little visibility due to the lumpiness of the road, it was awful and at times frightening. Things improved a little past Lepperton through farmland, but by the time the twenty-five kilometre detour was done we’d long since decided we’d have been better off on the highway – which at least has a decent shoulder and less alarming traffic.

A large cooked second-breakfast and resupply at Urenui was just the ticket before getting onto quiet country roads, following the sedate Urenui River valley upstream. The farming was back to looking marginal, and in places the land was slowly reverting to scrub and bush. Past Okoki, where there’s a useful looking Outdoor Pursuits place homed in the old school (camping, water, showers, maybe a pool) the gravel started and excellent it was too.

Cruising up a two hundred metre climb; flowering kanuka was also a feature of the day.

Through the first tunnel of the day, we cruised down towards Uruti. At the junction of Moki Rd (the other end of which I’d passed two days ago; the centre section is a gnarly paper road that I rode four years ago on a tiring day ride), we met a local who enthused at length about the beauty of the area, and interest all the various hills hold for him. From what I’d seen so far, I could not but agree.

Climbing Moki Rd, heading for the second tunnel of the day.

Now past noon, the cloud cover and gentle westerly were most appreciated. The prevailing wind was one of the reasons we were riding between capes west to east; another main reason was the Timber Trail is, I think, far better in that direction – contrary to prevailing wisdom. By now, it was clear to me that I was mostly noticeably behind Pete – as can be seen in the photos. Usually we’re about the same pace – but I did have an extra two and a half big days of riding almost five hundred kilometres in my legs. So I wasn’t put-out, or disappointed to be slower; but it was a bit odd to suddenly have to adjust to riding with someone else and the effect on pacing and stops that has.

Tunnel number two for the day.

Dropping down to the junction with Kiwi Road, we headed north on the section of our route shared from that trip four years ago. Funny, reading that trip report back I hardly mentioned the steep climb that would have us sweating for the next half an hour. A fast descent took half our elevation as we met a bit of a flat valley and our third tunnel of the day and a drop back down to sea-level.

A good sign as we head up Kiwi Rd; we saw little traffic, as had been the case since Urenui.

Tunnel #3.

Joining the Mega GGG route from 2017, we were heading inland and I failed to recognise it in this direction! Stopping in the shade at Kotare and snacking on roadside blackberries, it was time for a bit of a rest before the four hundred metre climb to Waitaanga. If we’d continued on the road we’d been on, we would have eventually reached the other end of Moki Rd and the Forgotten World Highway – looking at the map now, there’s clearly more scope for me to explore new places.

The hour of climbing to Waitaanga was leisurely enough starting out beside the Mangatawa Stream before rearing up a bit to crest the hills and go across the Waitaanga plateau. Not much left in here these days, we rode through and hit the steep climb over to Ohura. It wasn’t as bad as I remember, being reasonably flat at the top before bombing down to Ohura. On her day off, the now-legendary-in-North-Island-bikepacking Michelle opened up her Fiesta Food Cart just for us, plying us with cooling watermelon, yoghurt and cold drinks before a piled plate of Mexican food and quesadillas. Much needed nourishment and rest in the shade.

Duck!

As we sat, the shade very quickly came from a dark bank of clouds rolling in. With the tail end of a storm that had just dumped rain further south (extensive flooding in Milford Sounds – that storm) approaching, we booked a motel room in Taumaranui. We just had to get over two significant climbs and cover the forty-five kilometres left for the day. I’d only ridden this section in the opposite direction on last year’s Mega and I didn’t remember much except hills and good looking, but cloud covered, steep farmland.

It turned out the first half was very pleasant valley floor riding back to the Forgotten World Highway. One of those times where the river besides you is dropping very slowly, but the road is gently climbing if not flat. To my bewilderment, we passed an ad hoc polo match – with horses and everything! My mind still boggles, not a common scene in NZ – not even an uncommon scene, more unheard of.

Off the FWH, we hit fresh, deep and uncompacted gravel for a few tedious kilometres. Near the end of another long day, weary legs tried their best to attack it and get it over with – but really they just pedalled slowly through. As darkness fell and we wound our way up the last climb of the day, the rain started lightly – which helped regulate the temperature somewhat. At the top of the hill, we layered up for the descent and phoned the motel to advise we were still on our way, not lost – just a little later than I’d previously estimated.

Half an hour straight down into town was decidedly the coldest and wettest I was for the whole trip – which, in the scheme of things, was exceptionally good. Strangely, I began to crave McDonald’s – perhaps because I knew it would be open. But the gas station next door was also open – a late night pie and chocolate milk satisfied my hunger. The Alexander Spa Motel is recommended for being most accommodating to cyclists, and sufficiently far from the railway to be quiet. Unfortunately, rest won out over a nice spa; on a warm evening, clothes dried easily as we slept soundly.

I definitely wasn’t my strongest or most energetic that day, but look back at it now and see that there was a fair amount of climbing and plenty of new roads and sights – another great day on my NITT.