Tag Archives: HBBP

bikepacking, bikes, friends, GPS, NZ

Wairoa, Ohuka loop with long awaited dead-ends

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Getting back to northern Hawke’s Bay for one last weekend of bikepacking seemed a fitting farewell to this region I’ve been fortunate to call home for six years. It also gave the opportunity to add a couple of long dead-end roads that I’ve long been curious about, but never quite got to explore, to an already hilly 175 km loop of previously seen roads. This time there was all weekend available, across two days there was a bit more slack in the plan for any interesting diversions. Also fittingly, the only person I could convince that this potentially-mad route was worth setting out on was Pete – who’s made the most appearances in my more ambitious rides around the central North Island (notably both HBATs, HBOP, his excellent Cape to Cape (half of my double North Island traverse), and his Megas).

Catching up while watching the clear lunar eclipse, our bikes were ready for the leisurely start the next morning – straight to the bakery. Out of town on quiet highway, we were soon on Cricklewood Road. A favourite of mine, it seems to be a bit more infamous with others who have struck it at the end of a long, hot day of hills. From the top, it’s easy to see the sea thirty-odd kilometres distant and 500 metres below and think it’s all downhill – it’s really not! This was my first time climbing it and in the cool of a spring morning, it was very pleasant – almost as good as the other direction. The views soon opened up and already I was enjoying being back here and picking out various ranges in the distance, even Cape Kidnappers, and recalling other rides.

Remarkably green for this time of year.

Snaking up the ridge.

Mid-morning now, the first climb done; following a snack we hit Putere Road and descended towards the Waiau.

Catches my eye every time I pass.

Instead of continuing all the way down to the river, we set off on the first dead-end. Getting to the end of Putere Road would provided two significant climbs and a descent before finally dropping to the river further upstream – before turning around and doing it all in reverse. What we’d find along the way would soon be revealed.

First, a well-kept country school – water, shade, bathrooms and a very tempting pool.

Partway up the first climb, Pukakaramea keeps an eye on Rotongaio.

Many of the hillsides had been logged since I’d last looked upon the area from afar – this really opened up the views.

Logging still ongoing – I’ve never seen a tidier skid site!

Grovelling back up to crest before the long drop to the river, we could just hear forestry machinery making even slower progress toward us. We paused in the shade to see what it was and let it pass.

Good thing too, that claw was big – it swung a bit closer than I would have liked as it turned off along the ridge.

Panekiri Range on the right, I enjoyed seeing it again – this time from yet another angle. Off towards Huiarau Range in the distance, out Whirinaki Forest Park way. The road drops towards that pasture centre-frame.

A long, winding, gentle, freewheeling descent ensued. I was briefly fascinated watching logging operations in progress. Six years working for a forest products company and this was the most I’d ever seen of such things.

Spot the log moving up the hill.

End of the road, with this mostly amusing, slightly threatening sign.

Turning for the long climb back up, I dunked my hat in a stream as it was getting hot – I’d repeat this twice more at culverts on this stretch alone. A steady climb, it was not too bad; the second one steeper, it required a rest or two in the shade. Only seventy kilometres in, we’d already managed a couple of thousand metres of climbing – this did not bode well as the mercury climbed.

Rotongaio again, before dropping to the shade and water of the school once more.

The steep and big drop down Stairway to Heaven soon had us over the Waiau and inspecting the domain and hall for future reference. Neither of us had taken the Ruapapa-Otoi Rd option to where it connects to Waireka Rd. We found it much steeper and less pleasant going – there was much walking as it was well hot now. It wouldn’t have taken too much persuasion to get me to carry on down Ruapapa Rd – but that’s far less interesting (i.e. less hilly). An exercise in putting one foot in front of the other…

More hills and a different aspect of Panekiri.

Some pleasant ridge riding before dropping again as we got close to the range and then turned east to edge away from it. More walking and finding streams to cool off, the shack we bivied in early-2020 appeared far sooner than I expected – this was a good sign, as it was starting to look to me that this would be a very long day. The sealed climb to Ohuka being about the same again as the biggest we’d already done, it was very much in my mind. Resting in the shade at shearers’ quarters, we were really getting through our food – at least there were plenty of places to get water. The deep gravel, hills and heat were still taking it out of us.

Lake Rd, the main thoroughfare in the area, is not much better, some horrendous corrugations – but they didn’t last long. At least the road up and over to Ohuka is sealed – but that’s because it is so very steep. Still we rested in the shade, craving salt we finished the big bag of chips I’d somehow managed to squeeze/squash/crush into my feed bag and started the early-evening walk. I think we both had music blaring from our phones to get up that hill – a sign extra motivation was needed.

Panekiri Bluff now into view.

Spot the winding road going up the other side – at least that could be left to the following morning and fresh legs.

At last, the long descent to the school and the hunt for the key. I was relieved to find it – a kitchen was most welcome, as was the sick-bay bed; I’d lugged a sleeping bag and mattress all day for nothing, oh well – better to have it and not need it…

Nice surrounds for a school.

Another cracker day dawned, we eventually departed the excellent overnight facilities before seven and went straight into the biggest climb of the day. This gravel was kinder, the morning still cool and with rested legs the hour to the top was most pleasant.

Easy Sunday morning by this stage.

Before long we’d dropped a few hundred metres to cross the Ruakituri River at Erepeti; I was surprised at just how much of a river it is – where was all this water coming from? Apparently the largest catchment in the Ureweras, who knew? Our next dead-end would take us up the valley twenty kilometres to see a bit of that.

Back down to where we crossed the Ruakituri.

This quickly became the highlight of the weekend – what a valley! Climbing through a reserve as the valley narrowed into a gorge, the outlook across the river was spectacular before the road dropped through farmland to the valley floor. With the river rushing (renowned trout fishing we were told) through, fine examples of layering on a lot of continental uplift were readily apparent. Plenty of cliff features to catch our attention. The gravel was kinder again – graders and new metal don’t make it up here often.

At the entrance to Papuni Station we found a few graves dating from the NZ Wars – a skirmish between the constabulary and Te Kooti, this being not far as the crow flies from where he landed after escaping from the Chathams. Papuni looked very prosperous, we stopped for a yarn with a few of the workers, maybe a manager – I don’t think they see many cyclists. It was great to hear a bit more about the area and some of the tracks around – pity I’m moving away, there are definitely more opportunities to be investigated.

Behind the houses, a nice climb up to the woolshed, a boulder field and a lot of horses before dropping to the river. The headwind while descending was noticeable, but one could not complain – soon we would turn with it at our backs.

The gravel stopped at the base of the hill in the background.

Resting at the road-end, what food still remaining was depleted further as we speculated where one could get to from there. A DOC map board was much neglected and unreadable, shame. Back up the hill we went, eventually pushed up the last of the hill as the wind swirled around the valley.

Back down the valley past the Papuni buildings.

Enjoying the ride out of the valley, the hills were far easier than Saturday’s and, once we’d reclaimed our seat packs stashed in some willows, we hit the seal for the fifty clicks back to town. A wee bit of climbing, and one big hill after joining the Tiniroto Rd it was for the most part heading down to the coast with a helpful wind. Warm though, an ice cream at the store in Frasertown was the first priority – thankfully I got there right on closing. From there, a short sprint back to Wairoa to finish a fine weekend, and indeed, some years of exploring Hawke’s Bay back roads and hills.

The second day easily being the reward for a tough Saturday – all worth it, upper Ruakituri Valley was a cracker and I wonder when I’ll be able to get back and explore some more. Might have to be sooner than I previously thought.

around home, bikepacking, bikes, event, GPS, NZ

HBAT20 shortened

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Ten days between returning from the excellent West Coast bikepacking tour and setting off for the 2020 edition of the Hawke’s Bay Anniversary Tour was always going to be a bit rushed for sorting out the last minute details. Still all the things were done: farm inductions, finalising the tracking, answering the emails and questions, assembling my bike, getting overly excited and following up a last minute section through stunning private land, adding said section to the route and so on. From a few days out I noticed my hours of sleep gradually decrease to about three hours per night and the telltale tic of tiredness return for the first time in some years.

Twas all worth it though to have fourteen riders assemble at Ranui Farm Park the Thursday night before the four day long weekend. That worked really well (save an annoying miscommunication with room bookings), getting to see everyone for some hours before the ride started at dawn the following morning. So good to have half the field returning riders and get to meet for the first time other people I’d only exchanged emails with.

Friday morning and ready to go before sunrise.

Finally, I could challenge myself on the course I’d designed to be as such, and interesting to me. Turns out more time should have been paid to my pedals, as one promptly fell to pieces and slid off the spindle still attached to my foot. Bit of a showstopper, but as far as a place to have such things happen – one kilometre from the start is about as good as any on a remote course. Sad to see everyone else go, I turned and hoped Greg hadn’t left for Napier already. Phew, he was still there and we were soon heading home – where I swapped in pedals from another bike and made the drive back. The crazy amount of fog from just north of the start all the way to Napier persisted for the drive’s entirety, but strangely was not on the course at all.

Three hours later I was back on the route and wondering if I’d still make my goal of being back in Napier that night. A nice gentle start, in this crazy year it was a privilege to be out riding such a ride with or without the group ahead. Seeing many tyre tracks in the gravel reminded me of this and brought a smile to my face – some of it may have been a touch of pride that I’d somehow convinced people to get out and spend their long weekend on a course I’d designed. They may or may not trust me in such a way again.

Still flat, not for long.

A three hour delay wasn’t really that frustrating, after all I was soon out riding in the sun drenched countryside.

Diverting from last year’s course, the hills quickly began on a section I love. But first, a long moment to pause on the the very spot where a couple of months before I’d met a fantastic farmer who generously allowed us to ride through his farm. Tragically he’s gone far too young after a freak accident on the farm; I only chatted to Harry for quarter of an hour, yet it’s had quite an impact – part of it, another reason to savour being able to get out and make the most of opportunities presented. Eventually back riding – a dead-end road, a hilly farm crossing and then a blissful section with twenty kilometres of gravel, views of the ocean and surrounding farmland, grass up the middle of the little used road and then the long descent to sea level…

After noon by now, the store and excellent coffee cart at Porangahau was most welcome for chatting and refuelling before the steep climb up Old Hill Rd. Was a little mean putting that on the course, but the gradual downhill from the top is, I think, worth it. With over twenty kilometres to go to the beach, the tide would be mostly out by the time I arrived. Along the coastal section of Blackhead Rd, I was entertained by a stunt plane practising – a spectacular show which seemed just for me. The climb at the end of the road was not far from my mind, but conquered as I began to slow a hundred kilometres in.

The tide was still heading out, the sand not yet firm and for the first time that day a headwind – toughest trip on this beach yet.

It was encouraging to see so many people out on the beaches – camping, fishing, diving, walking, on motorbikes. Far more than we saw last year, mostly I expect because the weather was far better. Finding a hose to rinse my bike was a chance to chat to a local and top up water bottles before the big climb out of Pourerere. It’s a good one and I found my first other HBATer of the day at the top – another good opportunity for a chat. I thought I was just going to be on time to cross the second farm before night fell – when riding through was not allowed.

More wonderful, deserted gravel back down to sea level and Kairakau. A lovely evening it was shaping up to be. Stopping at the shearers quarters I found four other riders preparing to make use of the generous offer of accommodation from the farmer – alas the water supply was down. Time was tight for me to get up the big hill, but I, and the others, thought I could do it. Thankfully I know the route well enough, so I was not slowed by route finding difficulties; but I was starting to fade and on the steep, rugged grass farm track pushing my bike became more efficient than trying to ride.

South to all the places I’d just been.

There were far more gates to open and close this year, and plenty of stock around (those two not unrelated). Light fading for the big downhill, I certainly was cutting it fine. Quite the trade-off to make the most of the available light, but not reckless on rough farm tracks in the gathering gloom. Just out before dark, phew, and towards Waimarama. Half-eight by now and completely dark, my plan for making it home hadn’t really changed. It probably should have as I walked anything remotely steep up the last big climb; very odd – I have never come close to walking up Maraetotara Rd, steep as it is, before. Strange thing, I was never in any doubt that I’d make it home – one just had to keep on going.

Suddenly rain on the downhill, it didn’t last long and there was but forty kilometres home. That was just over two hours, and I was pleased to see I’d missed much more rain. Bike in the garage and into my house to sneak around trying not to wake a houseful of fellow bikepackers. I think I managed it, but couldn’t bring myself to find too much food lest I disturb people that had had just as big a day of riding as me. My poor body probably needed the fuel to mend a bit.

Head racing, I hardly slept again and woke early when the house rose to head north for a much tougher day of riding. Completely shattered, I dragged myself up and deliberated whether I should continue the course. I’d at least not fallen into the trap of scratching at the end of the day, instead waiting to see what morning would bring. As it was, there was no energy and a deep fatigue from the previous day and week. Everyone having left, I had nothing and couldn’t rouse myself to a day of many hills that I couldn’t have a good shot at.

So I was left with the ignominy of pulling out of my own ride only a day and one-third in. Disappointing to say the least; and a fair amount of worry that I’d made a ridiculous course that no one would enjoy – funny how those voices materialise. But I knew I was dog-tired and resolved to look after myself and not beat myself up too much. I tried to remind myself that I ride such places for enjoyment; if it’s not fun on some level, there’s little point.

In the end, few made it past Napier and no one finished the 750 km route. Four did amazingly well to make it through the many hills inland of Wairoa and pulled out before the last hundred-odd kilometres back to Napier; I think I misstepped in ending the route in Napier to try and help people with travel logistics. Plenty of things learned again; they may be useful if I find the enthusiasm and energy to run another HBAT. In separating my own disheartening HBAT from the weekend in general: people got out riding bikes, seeing new places in good weather, being challenged and spending time with friends new and old – so I’m counting that as a win.

Since then, I took a couple of weeks doing comparatively little and dealing with the disappointment of my own ride and the tiredness. I was unsure if my excitement for doing big bikepacking rides would return, which was concerning with two big South Island adventures coming up late-summer. Unfortunately I could not get up for the Mega ten days ago, but with a couple of shorter and less ambitious bikepacking trips over the last two weekends, the keenness to ride far and see plenty of new things is slowly returning – huzzah!

around home, bikepacking, bikes, GPS, NZ

Mangatutu Five

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Tentatively thinking I was recovering from HBAT (which I’ve not found the time or energy to write up yet), a fine forecast was sufficient motivation to schedule my fifth annual overnighter to the Mangatutu Hot Springs. No longer a season opener, it’s still a great little trip and I look forward to it every year. For the third year consecutive trip, I managed to convince someone to join me which is great. Perhaps tellingly, no one has ever come back for a repeat!

Customary bike and kit photo outside the garage.

I’m probably the only one who finds the gradual change in setup over the years interesting. This year I was back on flat pedals (which I have since serviced, they did squeak a little too much), with a cooker packed, frame bag away for zipper repair and, with such a good forecast, no rain clothes and few layers for the night. Off I went rolling down the hill to meet Brent after lunch and set off west on the flat to Puketapu. The last shop we’d see, it’d have been rude not to have a milkshake or ice cream or some such.

The temperature, low twenties, and lack of rain was true to the forecast. The wind aspect not so much as we worked into a most-noticeable westerly along the river flats and then as the hills started mildly. So much greener out that way than my last visit six months ago; soon the familiar sight of the bare Kawekas came into view.

In farmland dominated by dry stock, I’m still mildly surprised to find diary farms in remote Hawke’s Bay hills.

The extra gravel section I added to the route last year was just as pleasing this time around, perhaps even more so as it wasn’t nearly as hot. Cutting north to Puketitiri Road, the wind started to swing a little southwest which was certainly welcomed.

Into Puketitiri itself for a water top-up at the golf course I’ve never seen in use, I was astounded to find the domain packed with cars and people. Turns out we’d happened across the annual local family sports day – postponed from March. We missed most of the action (moto cross, pony jumping etc.) and were slightly too early for dinner, but we did see a series of people trying to throw a sack of something over a high bar with a pitchfork. Most excellent to see such a large community gathering.

I’m told this is not uncommon.

We did see one go over.

Now having climbed six hundred metres above sea level, the part of the day of consistently losing that altitude to regain it soon after began. Ball’s Clearing provided some more water and a suitable snack break as we pondered whether we’d manage the final twenty kilometres before darkness crept in. Back on gravel, the next section with slight dips and rises is always pleasant through a high valley.

Not stopping to admire the view for the plunge down towards the Mohaka.

The first of the three remaining climbs always gives a bit of a shock with its steepness, it however doesn’t quite get back to 600 m. Dropping to the Makahu River, I became suspicious that it might be really high as a small collection of two wheel drive cars was parked where I’ve never seen vehicles left before. Sure enough, it was well over the safe level (for cars) and swift; after all, twas only five days since the extended downpour which flooded Napier properly. But with a firm concrete surface on the bed, it was easily waded – the first time I’ve not been able to ride across it.

Over the river, it’s straight into the toughest climb of the day; I was pleased it was not too hot. Light and energy fading, the last hill is plenty steep – but one doesn’t start from as low, so that helps a little maybe. Finally we were on the long, gentle descent to the road-end and the hot springs. With that river being high, there were few at the campground – we set to making camp, cooking and eating before a well deserved soak in the hot pools under a brilliantly starry sky. Another fabulous and tough afternoon’s ride to Mangatutu completed.

The extra base layer was quickly shed on Sunday morning after warming on the first two climbs out. There was plenty of time for stopping to soak it in, but mostly rest.

Custodian of the northern Kawekas.

Past some sheep shearing, which is not uncommon on this ride, we kept ticking off the “largest climb remaining” and the westerly proved helpful. Up and down towards the coast, on another clear day I again enjoyed the views and it struck me how much I’ve come to appreciate Hawke’s Bay scenery, and hills, over the last five years. I realise just now that’s the longest I’ve lived anywhere since school, I guess it’s become home somewhere along the way.

Back towards Puketapu, the sea breeze began to overpower the westerly so the last sections of flat seemed harder than they should have been – but that was probably in my head. Whichever, it was time for a giant ice cream at the store and the last little bit of riding home. After a cuppa at Brent’s and savouring an excellent outing, there was that last wee struggle to my house – the disadvantage of living up a hill, one’s rides always end with a climb. Proper exhausted for the rest of the day and the following one too – well worth it.

bikepacking, bikes, GPS, NZ

Sunday Scouting – Rotohiwi and Te Uri

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With two people independently suggesting I alter the start of HBAT through a farm to a long stretch of gravel, I was certainly going to take a look. Andrew and I drove south through a frosty Sunday dawn to the south of Hawke’s Bay, leaving the car at a country school where it definitely had not warmed up.

Lumpy to start with, I was soon hoping for the climbs as whizzing down was decidedly chilly. Gravel appeared and we rode through a small herd grazing the verges – while now green, there’s still not a lot of feed around. Chatting to the farmer watching his stock, in what became a familiar routine, a few minutes in Andrew was recognised – despite having left the area fifty years ago. It was a very chatty day as everyone we met seemed to have some connection to my riding buddy.

Getting a bit higher, looking north.

Finally the climbing started in earnest and I began to warm; another dip must have been steep, making use of what I now know in some parts is called “traction seal”. Strange to have a name for those short patches of tarseal that appear on steep parts of gravel roads in the middle of nowhere. More farmers to chat to (no, I’ve not seen your lost heading dog – worth as much as my bike) including the one who was generously giving us access, and with no concerns of routing HBAT, through his land. Climb, climb and a little more; onto the farm track, pleasingly dry, a steeper gradient and then over the watershed to bomb past the airstrip.

Andrew heading for the airstrip; obviously a windy place, the breeze was light.

Through to Te Uri Rd, the sealed section was short before we reached the charming community hall and more gravel winding flatly and pleasantly for a few kilometres. That didn’t last as we rose towards the watershed again and headed back into Hawke’s Bay. The section through pine forest had been devoid of sun for some time and was sloppy, giving my bike and me a nice splatter effect for the small price of slightly less efficient pedalling.

Out in farmland again, the view opened up and we stole our first glance of the Pacific for the day.

The climbing continued a while longer.

Nearing the thirty kilometre mark, we’d already managed a thousand metres of climbing – and not too unpleasant it was either at a steady pace with plenty of rests. This paid off with twenty kilometres down, steep at first to get to the plains and more gradual as we followed the watercourses towards lunch. Getting closer to places Andrew’s family had more direct association with, ideas for looping further south and back north abounded – hopefully only a few weeks before those are explored.

Mangaorapa valley – we’d drop down and ride right to left, before following the Porangahau River through towards that glimpse of ocean.

Refuelling as ever at the wonderful Flotsam & Jetsam coffee cart (horse float really; I’m told the coffee is top-notch, but I’m taken by the home baking), was another opportunity for yarns in the sun of old times and old families of the area. Families of eighteen and twenty-one children!

Scouting of new routes done, we were to return to the car following some of last year’s route in reverse. It was perhaps a bit mad riding up the very hill that hair-raisingly dumped riders right into town – Andrew’s chain thought so as one of the side plates broke in two. That fixed, we were left to spin for half an hour to the ridge. I was going to leave this reverse bit out for the more sensible coastal and flat option; but no way, perish the though, the ridge riding and views were sublime. What’s another hill amongst all the others?

Dropping off the ridge, the gravel stretches and stretches.

Enough of Route 52 done, I saw my first newborn lambs of the year. I was a little perplexed by Andrew stopping behind me and running off into a field; turning and catching up, we were off for a bikepacking first more me – turning a sheep. I now know that ewes with multiple pregnancies can sometimes struggle to get back on their feet from lying down – and perish overnight. Sheep and multiple lambs saved, until next time it lies down in the sun, it wasn’t far back to the car – past dozens more newborn lambs out in the warm afternoon sun.

A stunner of a day, and that suggested route is definitely going in HBAT – it was fantastic. More remote, plenty of hills and rural views. In a sudden moment of inspiration, a scheme to change the start point struck me – more things to organise and ways to optimise this year’s route… A big thanks to Andrew for the contacts, riding company and chat; much kudos too – if I’m still riding up these sorts of hills when I’m knocking twice my current age, I’ll be well pleased and fortunate to be in such health.