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bikepacking, bikes, NZ

Scouting around Putorino

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After four weekends unable to do any route scouting, due to an unusual run of trips away (all of which were excellent), I was well excited to make two trips north of Napier. The idea was to suss out three potential connectors across farms that would cut a fair bit of annoying highway out of the route. Around all the other weekend goings-on, more driving than I like to do had me out in the countryside in warm, still and sunny weather.

As a route-connecting exercise, it wasn’t entirely successful; also, I didn’t really ride that far – less than a hundred kilometres. But my, what fun, what hills, what views and what discovery of new (to me) places.

Heading out to the first possible connector – the one that had the potential to avoid the most highway.

Alas, it wasn’t long before I reached a narrow gorge. Even in good weather and low water levels, it was too deep for me to consider fording. Too bad – but definitely not a good idea to route across there considering how the water may rise quickly with just a little rain falling on the nearby hills.

Nor were there any obvious tracks either side.

I turned and headed back to the car to drive a little north, thoroughly enjoying the leisurely ride back.

I tried not to spook the stock, but I don’t think they see cyclists very often – they were easily startled.

The Waikare River, just before I got back to Putorino.

Car loaded and off up the highway, I took more notice of the shoulder – trying to imagine how awful, or not, riding this stretch would be. Finding the side road I was looking for, I parked and set off up a stiff, but beautiful, climb. The potential connector is only a kilometre or two long, but would cut out far more highway than that. Unfortunately, asking permission isn’t always best – at the farmhouse they were unaware of the legal road bisecting the property and what that meant. Not wanting to annoy stock or farmers, I put the connector aside for a while and just went to see the end of the formed road. Disappointing, but hardly the end of the world.

Especially when the Tiwhanui trig cut-through delivered big time on Sunday morning. Leaving Tutira around nine, three kilometres deposited me at the start of a lot of gravel climbing. Absolutely no traffic was about and I climbed and climbed. With an unloaded bike, it wasn’t that bad and every corner opened up a new, often expansive, view.

I was heading down and over the right end of this ridge, and eventually turning north and heading towards that glimpse of ocean.

Up on the ridge, looking back to the high point from which I rode.

Twenty kilometres in, I reached the end of the formed road after riding a little through some pines chasing smelly wild goats along. Ignoring the illegally locked gate, I continued along a grassy farm track. Well, I ignored the intention of the gate, I still had to lift and climb over it so couldn’t completely ignore it.

Hard-packed, the track was pretty good – a little bumpy in places – and traversed along the ridge towards the trig. Different views appeared, I was most struck by the Pacific appearing in front of me. But turning to look over my left shoulder emphasised the ruggedness of the terrain I’d traversed.

The descent was fast, but measured as I kept looking at the view.

That was a good fun drop down closer to sea level.

Just like that, I was back on gravel and heading for Putorino and the quiet route back to Tutira. Finishing up by lunch time, a steak and mushroom pie and an overflowing milkshake gave plenty of time to reflect on a fantastic morning. I’m beginning to wonder just when I’ll run out of such great riding to discover so close to home.

bikepacking, bikes, GPS, NZ

Scouting Sunday – Mahia Peninsula

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Being able to ride around Kahutara Point was one of the main extra things that convinced me to spend the whole weekend around Mahia. So the riding schedule for the weekend was dictated by one suitably-timed low tide. The hour from sunrise took me east across the top of the peninsula, as I watched the sun come up over the still estuary and Pacific.

Decidedly unshabby resting spot.

Tide was assuredly out, this boded well.

An hour in, I turned off the “main” road (no traffic at that time of a Sunday) for a short section of gravel before a locked, barbed gate and threatening signs. Spying an actual living person, I easily got permission to ride the short section of private land to the beach. The riding was reasonably hard-packed sand – not quite as fast as Blackhead Beach the week before – and a little bit of flat rock slab where the intertidal zone couldn’t be avoided. Stunning morning to be riding with the sun and breeze behind me.

Unusual sounds snapped me out of my reverie; I realised I was passing a very large seal colony waking on the dunes to my right. The ten kilometres to Wainuiorangi Road was over in just less than an hour, and only had one kilometre of pushing and short carries around a rocky point. I decided to continue along the beach to see just how far the paper road was rideable.

By nine o’clock it was well too hot for gloves and a helmet. What is this winter madness?

Halfway along this stretch, I decided no one would thank me for this rough going – and I was well aware there may be no other way out. So with the tide advancing, I retreated to the road up onto the main road along the ridge.

Briefly the actual road diverted from the paper road, I managed to get across this stretch of private land without reaching for some koha.

There began thirty kilometres of ridge riding – first getting up 350 metres above the sea, and then riding all the undulations. Great fun, mostly gravel – but with some seal on the steepest parts. The wind was starting to get up, and seemed to be coming across Hawke Bay into me. I saw no traffic, admired the varied views (sheep country, native bush, plantation forest, the Pacific and the bay) and came around a corner to see a few cattle grazing the roadside. After some kilometres I reached the farm buildings and gates. With the wind continuing to strengthen and my way barred, it was time to turn and head back.

Have I mentioned I quite liked the ridge riding – Pacific on one side, Hawke Bay on the other?

Portland Island.

Looking down to Rocket Lab’s launch site.

Apart from being blown off my bike, just the once, when riding out of the shelter of a cutting, the return to town was quite straight forward. Back for a late lunch after a most excellent half-day’s riding, the only disappointment was how the road just ends at gates with no views of the beauty one knows is just there. How to end my route fittingly is proving to be a bit of a conundrum.

bikepacking, bikes, GPS, NZ

Scouting Saturday – Wairoa to Mahia Beach

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Scouting the last hundred-odd kilometres of the route was planned to be a big day-trip of driving to Wairoa and riding the 200+ kilometres to the end of Mahia Peninsula and back. But while talking Friday to a colleague familiar with the area, there seemed many more possibilities for exploring than I’d realised. Thoroughly excited by the prospect, I couldn’t turn down the very generous offer of basing myself at his holiday home for the weekend. It was a little wasteful having to return from work and hurriedly pack before driving back past work – but that’s last minute trips for you. Unfortunately that meant I got stuck in an hour-long tailback on the highway; not that it really mattered, I still got to Mahia in time and hit the hay looking forward to two days of exploration.

It rained heavily much of the night, but serendipitously ceased as I set off riding just before sunrise.

A brief visit to the beach of Mahia Beach as Saturday dawned.

The sixteen kilometres back to the highway had a little climbing in it. Wairoa is further west, around the coast some more.

Blessedly, the highway was very much deserted on a gloomy Saturday morning. Riding into the norwester was not unpleasant, and it certainly wasn’t cold. Fifty kilometres flew by as I enjoyed new sights and the coastal rural scenes. Second breakfast was naturally at Osler’s Bakery – although I’ve since been told of the Eastend Cafe, I’ll have to check that out next time.

Wairoa River.

Finally I learned why there is a lighthouse inland – it was originally on Portland Island (the island off the end of the peninsula), and moved to and restored in Wairoa after it was decommissioned.

That commute, as it were, done I could get on with the route-scouting. A few kilometres north of town I turned off another highway and immediately felt and heard the gravel under my tyres.

I never worked out where these two were walking to – it was ages to anywhere.

The first half of Mangapoike Rd stuck to the valley floor, before finding some hills to climb as the country became more rugged. Mostly sheep and beef country, there was some forestry and bush around.

The road kept continued towards the river of the same name; I very much wanted to keep going to the end, but I had to leave something to explore another time. Hereheretau Road follows the Makaretu Stream – for a stream it sure did have a high volume of water flowing down it.

I left my bike by the road to clamber down to the “stream”, and stood listening to these small falls for some time.

Things flattened out a bit as I passed plenty of farm buildings and a Simmental stud before climbing out of the valley and heading for the coast.

Back on the same highway again, there was lunch to be had at the general store in Nuhaka. Alas, it was too hot for a pie (in August?!); over my chocolate milk and ice cream (that’s lunch, hey?) I chatted to the storekeeper about my route. At least a third-generation local, he recommended I not go directly back to Mahia – instead I should continue on the highway eight kilometres (he assured me it was OK for cycling) to Morere (hot springs!) and climb up Tunanui Road for an outstanding view of the ocean, bay and peninsula.

I had at least three hours of daylight in reserve, so I happily set off through Nuhaka to see why he could hardly mask his enthusiasm for this road. I struggled to get out of town, distracted by the old utilitarian buildings many years into slow decay.

My attention was diverted again by a sign for caves. Caves! Only six kilometres up a side road that went goodness-knows were. Straight up a hill for six kilometres it turns out. A pleasant enough climb through three hundred metres, the place was deserted. Apart from goats, I’d seen so many I was beginning to wonder if people were actually farming them. They were everywhere. Just over the brow of the road, I found the scenic reserve. Hauling my bike further up a hillside, I stashed it in a handy patch of concealing blackberry before clambering higher following the poled route.

There’s the road down there, I’m about halfway up by this stage. I see now that the end of Mangaone Rd gets pretty close to where I was but two hours before.

The terrain flattened a bit and I found myself running across paddocks, somewhat excited to be discovering something that previously wasn’t on my radar at all. Although, it is possible my legs were so relieved to not be pushing pedals around that they couldn’t help but run. Perhaps I really was missing Park Run that Saturday?

Suddenly, a gate into a patch of bush materialised.

I soon found myself in a narrow long cave looking up at the stalactites. A cool little find, although I probably won’t send the route up all the way up here.

Pinning it back downhill, I did manage to pause briefly and spy Mahia Beach and the Peninsula behind it.

The highway was gentle; I wasn’t sufficiently enticed to check out the hot springs – but the tearooms were open… Off the main road, the climbing began again. As earlier in the day, the gravel hadn’t dried out yet from the overnight rain – so was a little slower than normal. The conservation area on the right hand side of the road is extensive – I was surprised it just kept going and going, a bit like the climb really. The nikau palms that had been mentioned by others were finally found. The forest gave way to pasture as there was a little ridge-riding.

Even in the fading light as more clouds rolled in, the view opened up to that promised and took my breath away – as did the quick roll back down to sea-level. I’m definitely sending the route up here, it was exceptional – as promised.

The last bit of gravel for the day took me around the estuary and back to the house right on sunset – every minute of sun-up that day contributing to an excellent outing.

around home, bikepacking, bikes, friends, GPS, NZ

Scouting Sunday – Central Hawke’s Bay

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Needing to ensure that the short section of beach riding required for my planned route was actually rideable was the basis of the weekend’s scouting plans. A few different options presented to kick-off the Hawke’s Bay Anniversary Tour and get to the beach. In the end, I decided to stick to keeping things in Hawke’s Bay and planned to check out the first hundred kilometres – none of which I’d ridden before, and only slightly more I’d seen from a car. It looked good on maps! Initially, the forecast looked good for more mid-winter camping – but westerly gales put the kibosh on that idea. Putting a tentative call out, I found others willing to join me on my debatably-mad scheme (all a matter of perspective, seemed perfectly reasonable to me).

Meeting in Waipawa at sunrise, the first objective was to find a suitable start point for the event.

This bandstand will certainly do.

With Josh (returning from a very rare few weeks of, injury-induced, inactivity) and Marek (returning from a month visiting back home in Poland, and little riding, and never having ridden close to the proposed distance) assembling – why wouldn’t we have a grand day of riding bikes?

It promptly started to rain, and the westerly continued to whip around us. Rain gear hastily donned and we were off through the few deserted streets, crossing the Tukituki bridge and finding the cycle trail to take us off the highway. It was a bleak soaking inauspicious start, but there wasn’t that much rain in the forecast so we grinned and bore it through Waipukurau.

Leaving the main road again, we cut south through flat farm land. The rain slowly eased as the gradient equally slowly eased us up. For early August, there certainly were a lot of young lambs bleating as the rain fell. We quickly got the idea that cyclists are few and far between up Hatuma way as we were quite the novelty for resident cattle – a curiosity-fuelled stampede was narrowly avoided. As the rain ceased, we got the first sign of a shadow around nine as we finally hit a climb to warm us. Gravel was reached for a fun drop down in to Flemington – which seems to consist of a country school, a playcentre and little else.

Another rainbow? That’s just getting greedy as the rain left us for the day.

Briefly back on seal, a long straight was only interrupted by stopping to close a broken gate, and snack. It must be said that the mob of cattle behind the wide open gate were very well behaved and not all over the road. Surprised to see a polo field/paddock near Purimu Lake (we missed the golf course), the anticipation of heading up Ugly Hill Rd was palpable. I never did work out what was so Ugly about it, the climb and views were anything but. Some pleasant undulating ridge-riding deposited us in Wallingford and a few kilometres of Route 52 led us to the gravel of the similarly imaginatively named Old Hill Road.

A more direct, on the map, route to Porangahau said hill was clearly the reason this was not the main road and remained unsealed. We climbed and climbed, all the while getting close to Porangahau – which I knew was down at sea level. Surely we must stop climbing soon…

Time for another snack stop, looking north and attracting the inquisitive farm animals again.

The coast appeared, finally, after many hopeful glances east.

All the while the westerly continued to batter us from the side. Up on the ridge, there was nowhere to hide – large shelter belts were ineffectual. The descent was a screamer – dropping 250 metres in two kilometres. If that wasn’t exhilarating enough, rounding one right-hander we were broadsided by the full force of the wind. Exciting times, especially with a frame bag, come sail. I rolled into town thrilled with the morning’s route and the roads we’d found. The start of the route was promising, even if there was a very easy thirty kilometre warm-up.

The small village exceeded all expectations. The store had delicious homemade pies (I restrained myself at one) and there was a delightful coffee cart in the garden next door – I’m told the coffee was of a high standard, the muffins I can vouch for. Seventy kilometres into the day, refuelled and slightly rested we chewed off easy flat kilometres with the wind pushing us along parallel to the coast. That’s the good thing about loops, provided the wind stays constant – it all balances out, eventually.

Come noon, Blackhead Rd was joined. Marek shunned the easier option of sealed and relatively flat roads back to Waipukurau – keen to see the beach and the objective of the day, no doubt. I was secretly pleased as if he got that far, he may as well complete the ride with us as the alternative would have been neither here nor there in terms of easier length and hilliness. We were back on quiet gravel again. That is, “quiet” being zero traffic, compared to very little. Sidling coastal plains, the farms were windswept and just looked exposed and hard work.

Pleasant riding in the sun with the wind behind us.

Over a little rise, we spied Blackhead Point. The beach is further up the coast and we contemplated the path the road would take to get through or over the hills.

The shingle mostly took us between the hills, but we did eventually climb to about a hundred metres and joined another road back to town. We were but two kilometres from the beach. Josh and I were just persuasive enough to convince Marek to stick with us, see the beach, click over his first 100 km ride with us and we’d get him home somehow – the big climb and headwind may have been glossed over.

Having ridden in on so much gravel, Blackhead Beach certainly felt remote and I wasn’t expecting more than the handful of holiday houses and campground that we found. Having serendipitously timed our arrival half an hour before low tide, the beach provided perfect riding conditions. With that tail wind, the hard-packed sand was far faster than we expected/feared. We flew up the beach.

Grin inducing, in fact.

Marek, and we, celebrated his first ever 100 km ride. A top effort.

Much fun was had.

Reaching Pourerere, ten easy kilometres of beach riding was over and we paused for refuelling and to redistribute loads. I helpfully consumed a huge sandwich. Threats of being deposited in a ditch if it was more than the promised thirty-odd kilometres back to Waipawa hung over my head as we departed. A steady pace over half an hour swallowed up the three hundred metres of climbing away from the coast and gave us plenty of hills, coast and ocean to look at. Another hour of tending down, battling the wind and the odd climb took us over the Tukituki again (downstream of the morning’s crossing) and changing our heading for the final stretch home.

As the long day started to tell over the final few kilometres, the wind eased and a large rain cloud loomed ahead of us – would we make back dry? As I’ve already spoiled that, yes – we did. All pleased to see the cars again, and hopefully I can speak for all in saying that it was a great and satisfying day. Most excellent to have good company join me in trying winter conditions, and successfully put a little more of my route-puzzle together.