With a hilly and tough HBAT only two weeks behind us, I was pleased to see six of us backing up on the 200 km longer Mega. This turned the start into a bit of a HBAT-reminisce and catch-up before Pete sprung the honour of leading the forty-odd riders out through the Rotorua morning “traffic”.

Time for a few stories with some HBATers.

A bit more time for a group photo.

This is a bit different to my usual dithering and chatting at the back of the start group.

A few kilometres in we regrouped off the road and headed out of town on the easy cycle trail to Ngongotaha – much time for meeting new faces riding towards the climb up the Mamakus. The route familiar to me, I figured I may as well cut my stops out until the resupply 120 kilometres in at Mangakino. A mild morning with no wind to haunt my memory, the riding was good as riders ebbed and flowed relative to me. Knees still noticeably achey from charging up too many Hawke’s Bay hills, I determined to spend far less time standing on the pedals uphill – which is tough, as I do like climbing.

I allowed myself a brief photo stop; tellingly, my best photo of the day is of a giant scar of a quarry contrasting with the more picturesque backdrop.

Subsequently, I was in no rush over the stretch of the Waikato River Trail that is notoriously punishing with plenty of sharp climbs. As the day warmed I continued to take it easy and walked far more of the sharp climbs than I ordinarily would.

Not stopping had me in the first few into Mangakino where I had plenty to eat and drink, including a big bottle of electrolytes. Many others arrived before I headed for the infamous wire-bridge at the end of Arataki Rd. Mid-afternoon it was hot by now, so much for the forecast 20ºC. While it was toasty, I’d not got it into my head that it was well above that temperature – most reports came back around 30ºC. Mentally, and therefore physically, I was not prepared for such heat and quite rapidly I was cooked. Succumbing to the dehydration of which I seem particularly prone (a disadvantage of having little mass and barrier against such swings?), a rest in the shade was in order as the waves of nausea swept over me and suddenly most of the food I’d eaten that day was rejected.

Completely spent, I tried not to berate myself too much. With some more electrolytes to sip on and cooling a little, almost an hour later I could face limping towards the cabins at Pureora – only twenty-five kilometres, but with most of a 400 metre climb. Moving so slowly, walking much and generally feeling awful gave me far too much time to question why and how I like to ride long distances. Having read my post of the first Mega two years prior recently to remind me of the course, I recalled a discussion about how such rides need to be fun. I wasn’t having much fun as thoughts turned to neglected friends in the Bay of Plenty I could be visiting instead of punishing myself. What’s more, with too many people close to me having significant medical diagnoses recently riding seemed a little selfish and pointless. On the other hand, if I could continue I would – what a privilege to have the time, health, means and freedom to explore our fair land. There was much to see and I knew I’d soon be back enjoying myself; I was really looking forward to seeing the roads from Taumarunui to Kawhia Habour – the most significant change to the course. Also, after last year’s magpie incident I was really keen to avoid another DNF – even if it meant adjusting my expectations, and taking more time off work.

The first time I’ve had to put the much-repeated lesson of “don’t pull the pin at the end of a bad day, wait for morning to decide” to good use, it paid dividends. After taking two hours to crawl to the cabins, some downtime, plenty of food and a thoroughly poor, but just sufficient sleep I was good to go again before five-thirty Saturday morning, albeit a little tentatively. But first, where did this rain come from? The lightest of misty rain, it set in for the gloomy climb to the summit of the Timber Trail. Only near the top did it get sufficiently heavy to have full raingear on. Relaxed enough, the trail was in the best condition I’d seen it and I reminded myself yet again to come back and ride it over more than half a day.

Eighty-odd kilometres of trail went by in a bit of a blur, I passed the lodge and campground mid-trail at around the time those that stay in such places hit the trail – so different people to chat to. Comments above aside, the last part from the Ongarue Spiral to the end was a fair mess. Nice to get off that and ride the deserted gravel to town and a big lunch. Many other riders were coming, eating and going from town; I enjoyed a Full English in good company at the same place I stopped on the Tour Aotearoa. Time for new roads!

Two sustained gravel climbs followed in quick succession and my legs were back – the refuelling must have helped, as did the mild closer-to-forecast temperatures, as I caught up to, chatted with and eventually passed a fair collection of riders. Yesterday’s dehydration effects were long gone, but the memory wasn’t – I ate and drink even more. Dropping into Ohura, I finally got to visit the much-vaunted Fiesta Food Cart. In a town where very little seems to be, let alone be open – a food cart that serves a large plate of fresh Mexican food is quite a novelty.

Thirty kilometres, mostly deserted gravel, had only the slightest of gradients to contend with. The northerly wasn’t too bad to contend with, unfortunately it was rather cloudy. A sudden drop took us down to Aria, before the last little bit of climbing for the day. Here the wind picked up and 200 kilometres into the day, the last stretch became pretty slow. I was pleased to get into Piopio (delightfully pronounced locally “Pew Pew”) in daylight. Well aware of the upcoming downpours, I scouted out some shelter on the way to find the Cossie Club – where a truly massive burger, fries and ice cream sundae were demolished. This was clearly the local and with four of us there in our riding gear devouring large volumes of food, we attracted plenty of good-humoured attention. A local dot-watcher came down to chat all things bikepacking and local AB rounds before we headed off to get out of the incoming weather. That was a far more successful day.

The rain didn’t arrive that night and I caught plenty of sleep with the wind blowing around and through my shelter. Up early and straight into a big climb out of town, it promptly started raining. The lightest rain imaginable as dark slowly gave way to a grey gloom. Gravel, native bush, farmland – all on the winding path north. At times the rain was heavy enough to don full raingear, but that didn’t usually last long. Raingear was promptly removed as, while it was head-windy, it was never cold. I’d love to go back and ride these roads again and see a bit more – so quiet and they felt so remote. Four and a half hours into the day, the first car passed me.

Shortly before ten o’clock was just in time for the breakfast menu at the Oparau Roadhouse. I arrived as the heavens opened again.

Catching up for the last five hours, and fuelling for the next six.

A few of the riders I’d passed with my early start, and that I’d not seen since Rotorua, arrived with various tales – most involving rain. With a good rest and meal in, I was ready to leave. The heavens promptly opened, so I retreated inside before eventually setting off in the rain – it soon abated and by the end of the climb up to Raglan Road I had to delayer without delay.

More great gravel backroads heading to my favourite part of the 2017 course – the coastal detour around to Raglan. Mostly dry, mostly into the wind; out of nowhere, boom, torrential downpour. From the first spits I stopped and couldn’t get my jacket on in time. Good fun, and it abated after ten minutes for the scenic coastal foray of repeated climbs and descents. Raglan by mid-afternoon for a short refuel and to get going while it was dry. That didn’t last long, another big downpour, but at least briefly the wind was less of a hindrance as the course turned east. Old Mountain Road was a new section, and being the steepest long climb of the route one of my favourite parts.

From the summit, Hamilton was within touching distance east; we promptly turned north, back into the wind for quite the dog leg to Ngaruawahia. Just the sort of thing I’d do, and did do, when course-setting. Joining the paved river trail at the northern-most point of the ride, the whole day’s toil into the wind paid back in spades. A very helpful push had me in Hamilton as dark descended, in time for a large dinner. It may have rained again. I’d long ago lost count of the raingear-on, raingear-off routine.

I was definitely making a point of eating well, and all was well on a big day.

Into the dark through the tedious cycle-path route out of Hamilton to Cambridge, it rained again but the wind was still mostly helpful. Nearing eleven o’clock I considered the last hundred-plus kilometres back to Rotorua, the ominous thunder-storm heavy forecast, crossing the Mamakus at night and opted for finding some shelter and finishing this thing in the daylight. Very happy with a big 255 km day in less than ideal conditions – just a pity about the lack of photos.

To my surprise I slept late and was not properly going until six-thirty, keen for the familiar path back to Rotorua. The multitude of small hills to Arapuni felt good, I was disappointed not to see my magpie nemesis. Second breakfast at the Cow Cafe in Putaruru is now a tradition, and a thoroughly good one. The wind was still at my back and I hardly even got rained on – it was a grand morning to finish up, especially learning later of all the thunderstorms I’d managed to avoid the previous night. Even the blockades on Cecil Rd weren’t as bad as expected and running down the hill to town I was pleased to find I had plenty left in the tank.

Finishing in three days and six hours-ish, it was great to see Pete, Roger and Chris there and just sit in some sunshine for a while sharing stories, before another big meal. While things didn’t go quite as planned that first afternoon, I got to ride my bike a lot, see plenty, learn loads, share the ride with others and actually finish it this year – fantastic. Thanks to Pete for organising it all, I look forward to the next such ride.

Thanks to Roger for bordered photos.