Forty riders gathered at the Durie Hill Memorial Tower after sun-up. While there had been some rain overnight, none fell as the usual chatter and checking-out of bike set-ups ensued. Pleasingly, there had been the chance to catch-up with many familiar faces, and some new ones, the previous night – the morning of was a bit more subdued. Shortly after quarter-to-seven we were off east.
Start photo from Fay – the reason we had such an exciting ride to look forward to.
In what now seems to be my standard approach, I waited until the mad rush had subsided and pootled off. Feeling pretty flat, I was in no hurry across this section – which I’d ridden last on the TA, seemingly an age ago. I was soon riding by myself into the nagging wind for the hour before we turned north up the Whangaehu Valley. This section was new to me and I enjoyed the gradual ascent on quiet rural roads. Brent and I eventually caught up to Rachel and Gina, and our little group bimbled on. I was feeling pretty rough all day, so I was pleased for the company. As my body worked to replace the bag of blood taken the previous day, it was all I could do to keep supplying it with much food and many fluids – not much of a hardship really, but a bit of a time-suck. It was manageable, but I was hardly bursting with energy and just felt off all day.
The Burma Hill provided a steep challenge as the morning warmed. Satisfyingly, I could still climb – albeit slowly.
Big snack, sunscreen and regrouping stop at the top. The signs say it all.
Dropping back to the river, the steady gradient increased as we got up on the plateau. Things started to look more familiar as we soon joined the route I took across the island on my double traverse last year. The fifteen kilometre run into Ohakune was fast (half highway, half backroad) as we turned with the sou-easter.
Rangataua provided some surprise.
Serendipitous.
I was adamant I needed to go all the way into town, the five extra kilometres worth it for a big refuel and replacing all the snacks I’d devoured. The kebab was huge, and maybe not the best option – sitting rather heavily – but the berry smoothie went down a treat, as it was warm out.
Perhaps we’re doing gear-carrying wrong.
We four regrouped somewhere on the Old Coach Road; perhaps in a sign of how out of sorts I was, details are hazy. But I do remember we all suffered with full bellies on the the bumpy, practically-cobbled trail with big lumpy rocks. The third time in the last two years, it’s still a fascinating trail with the native bush and some significant NZ engineering history too.
Maybe it was because I’d seen much of the day’s route before, but another sure sign that the whole day had been a struggle was that I’d taken very few photos. Just focussing on keeping on was enough – I was confident that I’d be back to some sort of normal the following day, I just had to make it that far and not pull out of the ride before then. Decision time loomed at Horopito, where Gina and Rachel had a B&B organised. As tempting as calling it a day there was, it was only 135 kilometres in – a bit short to keep on our five-day plan. Thankfully, the next thirty kilometres were basically free – a big downhill and a very helpful tailwind.
Another big snack break and topping up of bottles before saying goodbyes, we rolled out for a lovely evening’s ride to Ruatiti Domain. The road predominantly sealed, it was easy going. A sudden cloudburst had me sheltering in the porch of an abandoned house, but that didn’t last long and it was warm enough that riding in the resulting drizzle didn’t require a jacket. I was pleased we were not thirty kilometres ahead dealing with rain on the notoriously sloppy Kaiwhakauka Trail.
Crossing the Maunganuioteao at the end of the day.
The domain was a delight by the river (sweet swimming hole!) – we scoped it top out and found it basically empty. Further down we found a lone Renegade – Happy had set up his tent in a stand of manuka, we made camp nearby and shared stories of the day. It had been a tough one for me – I don’t think I’ve felt so rubbish for a whole day on a bike. Sure, there are usually highs and lows – I’d certainly had lower lows, but not consistently like this. Thankfully the riding was kind and not very hilly, I’d put in a reasonable day, not blown up and in the morning would see how I felt about tackling a more remote and tougher section of the route.