Attempting the southern loop of the No. 8 Wired route in one day, I wasn’t absolutely sure that I’d actually be able to make it. With promises of significant hike-a-bike in the Aorangi Forest Park in the route description, I carried my camping gear just in case I was out overnight. A hundred and fifty kilometres of mostly gravel road should have been easily achievable in a day, but the warnings of not attempting the forest park section alone (exactly what I was doing) due to its rugged nature and remoteness had me a little apprehensive.

I at least managed to get away before eight o’clock, turning on to the beginning of White Rock Road as the day lightened and the wind at my back. Not ten kilometres later I left that road, hit gravel and began to head up the Ruakokoputuna valley. Outlying Martinborough vineyards, olive farms and eventually a recently logged pine forest passed by at an easy gradient. The valley was always pretty narrow, but past the pines the sides got steeper and higher. A reasonable height above the river, the views opened up and it was beautiful gravel road riding. The wind pushing me along may have helped this assessment.

Watching border collies herding a mob of sheep, it was very much sheep country. So I was surprised shortly after when plenty of signs appeared on the road side notifying that the land was now a deer farm and hunting was prohibited.

Considering I’d climbed over five hundred metres and stopped to take in the views, I thought reaching the end of the road at ten o’clock was reasonable progress. I stopped at the boundary of the forest park, snacked, read the signs and generally stood wide eyed looking at the steepness of the country.

Met by this as the end of the road I hoped it wasn’t a sign of the next twenty-five kilometres.

The trail improved markedly and it was a fun and long descent to the valley floor. I passed a few hunters on foot and noting the roughness and narrowness I wondered if 4WDs would even make it in here. The track crossed the Turanganui River (East Branch) a fair few times, but it was all rideable – even if I did get a wet foot, it was a brilliantly sunny day. The GPS route supplied seemed to diverge from the actual track, but I followed my nose and found Sutherlands Hut.

Originally a Forest Service hut, from back in the days this was a state forest, it’s a simple hut in good condition.

Looking at the wiggle on my GPS screen I could see that I was soon to be climbing very steeply. Here come’s the hike-a-bike… And it certainly did. Soon I was pushing my bike up a loose rocky steep trail.

Within not much distance, and with a bit of energy spent, the hut was a speck down there in the centre of the frame. This about a fifth of the way up the climb.

The hike-a-bike didn’t let up for 250 m of pushing up, it leveled out a bit for me to ride some before another 25 % gradient kick to conquer the highest point of the route.

This doesn’t look too bad…

Oh, the trail goes up beside a cliff. Brilliant.

Nice and rocky too – a good work out for the upper body.

Views east across to the Rimutaka Ranges.

The forest was a curious mix of natives, various pines and some stands of eucalypts. I couldn’t quite figure it out. Topping out in a nice sheltered clearing at 750 m there was time for a short breather, enough cell coverage to respond to important messages before heading down to the coast. Which was easier said than done. It was steep down too, easily 15 %, at times more. I could barely ride it and almost got off the bike in an act of self-preservation.

The work was not done yet. The trail undulated in its steep fashion. With the sun blazing, the norwester picking up and great views, I was kept on my toes. Rather, I was kept off the bike with three or four more significant sections of pushing up loose rocky surfaces. Certainly the most hike-a-bike I’d done with a loaded bike – but I was making progress and was pretty sure I’d make it through.

Until I got a decent cut in my front tyre and sealant sprayed everywhere. Eventually it sealed, just, and I could pump more air back in. Hitting a section of road that looked to have been recently cleared and widened with a bulldozer (it was pretty awful), I was soon down at Hurupi Stream. So close to the coast, I thought this would take me there. Alas, there was one wicked push uphill to go.

But it did lead to views such as this looking across Palliser Bay.

Open farmland took me closer to Cook Strait, and gave views of the South Island.

One last super steep bit to get down to the coastal road, which may involved an elegant running jump from the bike as I lost control on the sketchy gravel.

Refilling water bottles at DOC’s Te Kopi holiday cabins, it was time to take full advantage of the strong tail wind to push me down to the southern extremity of the route. Head down and legs getting meteorological assistance, I was soon at Ngawi ordering fresh fish and mussels from the little caravan-housed fish and chip shop. At the halfway point of the day’s route, I thought I was on track being three o’clock – I just had to get around the cape, through a sheep station and then it was road all the way back. Into the wind; I had not forgotten that part.

Blown all the way to Cape Palliser, I skipped climbing the big staircase in cleats – having done so on my previous ride here.

Soon after the lighthouse, the road ends and there’s just a track (behind a large gate that warns that there is no access to White Rock Road – I ignored this, knowing that there was access for bikes). Shingly and sandy the double track splits and rejoins in main places as it winds its way along the grass barely holding onto life on the windswept coast. The wind became much more difficult to predict as it hustled through the little valleys that run down to the coast; the blustery nature of it was no longer helpful.

The track became gravelly and rose a bit give a slightly higher vantage point.

I’d long since passed the last vehicle out for a spot of fishing or wild-camping and as afternoon drew to a close, the remoteness and isolation of the setting became more apparent. If I thought the hike-a-bike was over for the day, it definitely was not. The shingle got bigger and looser – not possible to ride through on a standard MTB tyre. I resorted to pushing up a relatively small hill. When it was a rideable surface again, there was another steep pitch that I got halfway up before dismounting yet again and walking to the top. The trail dropped off suddenly to an imposing high, heavy, locked steel gate – the boundary with Ngapotiki Station.

White Rock sitting across the bay. I turned north and inland at about that place.

While locked and difficult to get around, the gate bars legal access along a paper road through the station. I’d phoned two days prior and told the station owner I was coming through, he had no problems with this. I muscled my bike over the gate, slowly, and enjoyed a better surface across the farm for a brief time – before hitting an equally large gate on the other side of the station.

Back on gravel road, I was soon at the other end of White Rock Road – all I had to do was follow it for near on sixty kilometres back home. Being five o’clock there was plenty of daylight left, all I had to contend with were a few small hills. Oh, and a howling norwester headwind. Leaving the coast the road gradually climbed seventy-five metres. I struggled against the wind and chased a small bird up the road.

In a parallel with my toil, it would walk a few steps to get away from me and then attempt to fly. On each attempt the wind rushing down the hill would thwart it and send it back to the gravel. Finally it was close enough to the top of the rise and the wind lifted it and it flew gracefully away. I was not so graceful; near the top I came to a literal standstill in my easiest gear. As was becoming normal, I got off and walked again. On a gravel road! Believe it or not, I can actually ride a bike. A bit.

I was greeted with a view of an oddly braided river, the Opouawe, which I would follow upstream for sometime with little climbing. Occasionally I could even hide from the wind.

The gravel road riding was great, the wind not so.

Getting pretty low on energy from the day’s efforts, I stopped to eat my meagre dinner at six before two small climbs took me over to Tuturumuri. The school conveniently provided water refills and the road was paved from there.

I’d like to say progress now sped up, but it really did not. The wind was still fierce and the road climbed through three hundred metres, up to a wind farm – a ominous sign if there ever was one. Dealing with what was now a massive crosswind, I rode along the ridge and listened to the wind whistling. At first I thought the sound was the wind turbines, but I soon realised that the extraordinary noise was the wind rushing through the basic triple-wire power lines. Somehow my bike didn’t turn into a short-lived aircraft.

Finally the pay-off came as I, comparatively, whizzed down the hill to cross the Ruakokoputuna again, deal with a few undulations, turn my lights on and arrive back thirteen hours after departing. Those last sixty kilometres of road, with few hills took me four hours! It was a little breezy.

It was a fantastic day out exploring new places, but definitely a day with much hike-a-bike and toil. Three weeks later I’m wondering if I should try it again on a calmer day. Perhaps, but there are other places I’ve not been yet… Hindsight does of course tell me that my original plan to do this southern loop the previous day would have been much easier – but I got to spend more time with family, so all worth it.