Far North Diagnostics

In the process of exploring what appropriate work-life balance might need to look like, I identified a non-teaching period during which I could feasibly take time away from the office, and this was kindly supported by my dear boss.  

Given the time of year, "the winterless north" seemed like the best option, and for a time, I contemplated hiring a campervan.  That notion didn't last long, and instead of packing for a flight to Auckland (or further north), the evening before was spent loading up our Corolla.  That, and everything else was pretty much being done on the fly, but we were treated to a magnificent day to make our way up the island.  

The "detour" up the western side of the central plateau was stunning

We weren't fully committed to driving all the way to Auckland, but we ended up in a motel in Takapuna, well poised for my first ride of the trip.  

A bit more burbing

Sarah was recovering from finally getting some Koh Samui gravel removed from her elbow and we intended for her to be bike free for a few more days.  After breakfast, I set off on my own to mop up another slice of Tāmaki Makaurau, in a continuation of my "Karori Caper" series (see the end of the blog for the growing collection of towns and suburbs!).  

Using my sister's place in Bayswater as a launchpad (or, more generally, visiting her and her family as an excuse), I'd been enjoying creeping further north towards Albany, using the motorway, inlets, and major arterial roads as natural boundaries so I didn't have to think too hard when starting the next piece of the puzzle.  

The rides - which I fully accept I've become addicted to - always serve up something interesting, be it built or behavioural.  In this case, early in the ride I found myself having to be vigilant around parents hunting for carparks for the Saturday morning team sport fest.  

During my minimal prep, I'd noticed a little bit of path that I'd nominally missed in a previous ride (so "out of bounds" but handy enough) and at the far end of that, finding a community bike hub warmed the cockles of my heart.

Bike Hub Forrest Hill

A few dozen dead end roads later, I was starting to feel my tanks running dry, and I lucked out that a bakery in Mairangi Bay was both handy, and had caught my attention.  Inside, I found the most incredible range of pies, and was eventually able to overcome the abundance of choice!

As I continued about my business, it was nice to see others doing their thing.  

Great Barrier Island in the distance

Eventually, I made the call to start heading back towards Sarah.  As much as I enjoy the variety that these rides serve up, I also enjoy the uncertainty, and have not tried to "analyse" an area in advance.  One of the downsides of this is that I'm pretty hopeless at predicting when I'll finish, but tried to give Sarah a couple of half-decent estimates en route to joining her at my sister's place in Bayswater!  

She'd had a stressful day, so was very glad to see me (as I was her), and we were soon joined by my brother-in-law and two young nieces, whose company we enjoyed for the rest of the evening.  

Stats:  114km ridden, and my 11th high-density ride in the Auckland Region.  

Some fond memories lurking in this map data, including a weekend on Waiheke Island

Tiritiri Matangi

One of the last times we'd been in Auckland, I'd tried to take said nieces to Tiritiri Matangi, only to find I'd left booking too late.  A bit more prepared this time, availability and a stunning weather forecast lined up, and with parental support secured Sarah and I had booked tickets for a Sunday outing with the girls.  

A drive to Gulf Harbour took the pressure off morning routines slightly, and we were there in plenty of time to catch the ferry once it arrived from the Auckland CBD.  

Once on the island and briefed, I took a punt on a route up onto the main ridgeline of the island and we got underway.  By the time we settled in the sunshine for our first picnic, our list of sightings was already impressive.  Fresh from admiring a takahē on the Heaphy Track, sitting overlooking three more grazing here was also very special.  

A loop in the north of the island chewed up time and energy but barely made a dent in our figurative bird-bingo game card.  I carried Saoirse ever so briefly en route to the visitor centre where we were pleased to be able to buy a few things to bolster our picnic supplies (and I appreciated the self-service instant coffee).  

We sat outside overlooking a very busy feeding station (well over a dozen tūī in attendance, near constantly).  I'd been really hoping to see a kōkako, having only ever heard one on Kāpiti Island, and my disappointment (and growing resignation) that we might not see one was soon obliterated when a few turned up and put on a prolonged and stunning show.  

By the time we boarded the boat back to the mainland, we'd even seen stingrays from the wharf, and although the littlest legs among us were particularly pooped, it had been a pretty incredible day.  

Stats:  8km walked, and no fewer than 14 native bird species seen, plus a handful of other treats

Karikari Peninsula

The next morning, we offered to help with school drop off, and I enjoyed riding with Zara before returning home to help Sarah with final packing. 

We enjoyed the drive to Kaitāia, stopping a few times for sustenance and a little bit of tourism.  In hindsight, we should have gone for a spin from the motel, but I foolishly thought the nearby Karikari Peninsula had just the right amount of road.  Alas, I stuffed up on two counts - underestimating both the drive and the riding.

We parked near a small lake, and got rolling.  Half an hour or so later, we'd endured some nasty corrugations in an otherwise nice bit of gravel road, and had popped out to a couple of road-ends.  

Sarah at Maitai Bay

Heading back the way we'd come, it soon became apparent that daylight was running out.  It made for some lovely light conditions, but also meant my plan to knock off all the road in the vicinity was destined for failure. 

Puheke Maunga (on the peninsula)

At an intersection a few kilometres away from the car, we decided to split up, and I headed off down a gravel road while Sarah stuck to the tarseal.  Very soon, I discovered that while the wandrer map suggested this road kept going, it started to deteriorate into a 4WD track.  Absent a closed gate, I decided to press on, though this included carrying my bike around a large bog, and and mounting stress - less so about the fading light than about the risk of offending someone.  

Eventually, I emerged onto a proper road, and some 15 minutes later, I was joining Sarah in the car.  By this stage, it was pitch black, so a good thing I'd had my helmet light on!  

Stats:  36km ridden - not my finest work from a planning point of view.  Sarah's first ride since her minor elbow surgery.  

Cape Reinga

Having apparently learnt nothing, I continued in much the same vein the next day!  

After breakfast, we piled into the car, and drove to Te Kao, which, despite having easy access to modern mapping tools, I'd decided was close enough to the cape to make for a nice ride.  We parked up near an open store, and then set off.  

I've only been this far north once in my life, with Sarah and the girls the day before we'd started a lovely three day cycle tour out of Kaitāia.  Then driving the car, I hadn't fully registered how little forest there is up this way, yet the outbound ride served to make that abundantly clear.  

Segregated farming in the Far North?

I waited for Sarah for a few minutes at the un-staffed service station at Waitiki Landing.  A couple of beach-heads were signposted - one 15km away meant at least a 30km return trip, and by the look of the map, the other would add another 12km or so (10km signposted from the highway, but with a little bit of overlap).  I was already ruing not driving to this point!

We soon passed the turnoff to the Giant Sand Dunes at Te Paki Stream (which we'd visited with the girls) and then had a couple of sterner climbs to dispatch before reaching the parking lot for the short walk - or ride in our case - to the Cape Reinga lighthouse.  While it was still dry and warm enough on land, there were a couple of spectacular pockets of rain just offshore which worried me a touch.  Sarah had announced earlier in the day that she'd not packed a jacket - not just for this ride, but for the trip as a whole!  

Cape Reinga lighthouse

Consistent with there being bugger all traffic on the road, we had the lighthouse virtually to ourselves, and we enjoyed the dramatic surroundings in relative peace.  Between the lighthouse, the pockets of rain, the incredible meeting of the Tasman Sea and Pacific Ocean, and dozens of welcome swallows flitting around, it was really quite special.  

Tasman v Pacific

We headed back up to the carpark for a late picnic lunch, and then got underway again.  I waited for Sarah at the turnoff to Tapotupotu Bay, and we agreed to ride down together.  It seemed that this was likely to involve getting wet, but we proceeded anyway!

Double rainbow on the way to Tapotupotu Bay

At the road end, I found a track closure sign which was probably a good thing.  In theory, the track would have taken us to Spirits Bay (the road end 15km from Waitiki Landing), but it has been closed since 2023 (making its likely unsuitability for bicycles moot). 

Te Paki Coastal Trail at Tapotupotu Bay (closed)

Sarah had packed some plastic bags, and was soon hauling one full of sand.  I had a long wait for her half an hour later, only to discover she'd been foraging for wild clay!

The quality of the ride began to deteriorate rapidly, thanks to the premature parking spot, the pressure created by an 11am start and early sunset, and then also a heavy downpour.  I was comfortable enough (since I'd packed a jacket), and while I know Sarah has incredible tolerance of the cold - her fine Mongolian stock showing through - the rainfall and generally cooling temperature did stress me out.

For a while we thought I would do the two road-ends from Waitiki Landing while Sarah fetched the car, but the rain changed that and instead I decided to push on to get to the car as quickly as possible.  Once I got there, I ordered a hot chocolate from the store, got changed, and then started driving north.  Sarah had done well, and only missed out on 5km of riding or so.  

It was another drive back to the motel in darkness, but we got there safely enough.  Showers, then ravioli with basil pesto and avocado were the order of the day.  

Stats:  98km ridden.  Virtually no traffic on the road, and no native birdlife to speak of.  

A gravel grovel to Coopers Beach

The following day, I thought we might head out for a regular ride - one with the option of cafe stops, no daylight issues, and no dead-end roads!

One of the finest sections of SH1 on our drive to Kaitāia had been through the Mangamuka Scenic Reserve, and after scoping loops north and south of it, I settled on one north of SH1 connecting to SH10 along the coast.  

After breakfast, we drove about 15 minutes and parked the car just off the main highway.  

The first minute of gravel road was lovely - just enough to lull us into a false sense of security.  It then got pretty unpleasant, and stayed that way for half an hour or so, much to our frustration.  

Sarah enduring Peria Valley Road

It was a blessed relief when I started seeing an intersection ahead on my GPS map, as it seemed likely that the road conditions would soon improve.  Sure enough, a sealed road took us past a marae, and then to the Bush Fairy Dairy where we stopped for a quick bite. 

Kauhanga Marae

I knew from my planning session that our route would cross (twice) the ride I'd done between Kerikeri and Kaitāia to collect the car.   I hadn't looked any closer than that, and while I had vivid memories of the existence of the dairy, my recollection of its surroundings and layout were far from accurate!

From the dairy, it was sealed all the way to the coastal highway, vaguely following the Taipa River.  As we neared the coast, mangroves became common.  We skipped the shops in Taipa, which meant that when the Cable Bay Store beckoned us in a few minutes later, we were confronted with as fine a cafe cabinet selection as you might hope for!  

Cable Bay and beyond

Bellies full, we had a few bumps to contend with on SH10 before reaching our turnoff up the Oruaiti River valley.  Sarah's enthusiasm levels had already waned, but she said she'd rather continue with me (offering her ongoing opportunities to comment on the route...) than turn around and head back past the fairy dairy.  Fortunately, the gravel condition was primo, and the hills were yet to begin! 

Begin they did, with a series of steep pitches that required considerable care (not to mention grunt) to stay on the bike.  I had some uncomfortably long waits for Sarah and eventually decided not to ride ahead of her any more.  

I'd picked the loop direction as any Buddhist would (clockwise, naturally), so was relieved that the descents tended to be mellower than the climbs had been.  While I didn't recall any of the scenery, I did correctly pick where my earlier route overlapped - this time, ridden in the same direction.  

Back in 2016, I'd approached from somewhere over there...

The terrain became conducive to me helping Sarah climb, and besides that, I think her cafe lunch had kicked in!  We were still a fair bit away from the car, and while the day had marched on, we made good progress along "strade bianche" towards SH1.  

When we did reach the highway, we'd agreed on a plan - I'd boost, collect the car, and then return to pick Sarah up.  For a while it had seemed like it might have been dark already, but we'd covered good ground in the last hour, and I was glad we hadn't had to traverse gravel together using only my front light. 

I made it all the way to the road summit without turning my light on, the solid white line at the edge of the road being visible even as darkness fell.  I enjoyed the irony of doing this section alone, riding fairly hard, and in fading light, given the whole point was to enjoy the bush we'd not really savoured in the car!

The 5km climb despatched, I enjoyed a safe and carless descent through the reserve, and a few minutes later was throwing the bike in the back of the car.  I'd heard from Sarah, who'd reported via satellite, that she was waiting at a rest area on the other side of the hill.

By the time I got to Sarah I was feeling pretty car-sick, my brain not coping well with the windy road and bright reflected light from my own headlights.  Karmic payback for the early gravel, steep climbs, and yet another night-time finish?

Stats:  94km ridden, two short sections of ridden roads, one strava crown for Sarah!

Kaitāia!!

A new day dawned, and Sarah announced she was happy to have a day off.  After breakfast, I set out alone to ride down every street of Kaitāia.  

The town seemed small enough that I could throw in a few roads on the outskirts.  One of these loops was early on, and provided good views over a timber mill that had been in the news (with the prospect of closure having a negative effect on the local economy).   

The second didn't to the north of the town didn't quite go according to plan - I'd overlooked that a short "loop" had the not insignificant matter of a river running through it - without a bridge...  Rather than pull the pin entirely, I decided to go a bit further than I'd planned, crossing the river just out of Awanui.  A gravel road along the river took me past a massive solar array, and a few sections of road that appeared on the wandrer map but not on the ground.  

Kohirā Solar Farm

A paddock or two down from the town's shit farm (aka oxidation ponds) I saw a very unusual sight.  Sarah and I had been regularly complaining to one another about the dearth of native birdlife - the exception being kōtare - in some areas, every powerline seemed to come with one!  Well, blow me down, I think I probably saw more paradise ducks in one paddock than I'd seen in the rest of my life to that point!  (Despite seeing quite a few!)  I was so impressed, that once done with the ride, I drove Sarah out to see them.

While the paradise ducks had been a lovely bonus, that unexpectedly long loop had been... unexpectedly long, and had chewed up both time and energy.  In an attempt to keep things moving, I inhaled some food from a gas station before getting stuck into the last third or so of the township.  

Towards the end, I climbed up to a reservoir overlooking the town, before knocking out one superfluous bit of rural road.  

From the Okahu Road reservoir

I had to laugh at the mixed messages one gets when arriving into Kaitāia from the direction of Ahipara, and did wonder how many are so busy reading the lovely "welcome" message that they're not quite attentive enough to their speedo!

Speedtrap

A couple of u-turns later, I was back at the motel, and soon after that, Sarah and I were heading out in the car.  After seeing the paradise paddock, we drove to Ahipara and had a short walk on Ninety Mile Beach.   For a few minutes, I thought we'd be able to cheer on three bike-packers, but as they got closer, it was clear the riders were not pedalling (and nor were their horses).

The internet resolved our curiosity about the name of the beach (three days times 30 miles per day on horseback - on firm ground, as it turns out), and we celebrated that new found knowledge with some amazing ceviche and chips from Ahipara.

Stats:  101km ridden, just shy of 60 cul-de-sacs sacked.

Kai Iwi Lakes to Dargaville

After four lovely nights, excellent Indian and Turkish meals out, a couple of home-cooked pasta dishes, and two trips to the laundromat, our time in Kaitāia had come to an end.  I had a better drive through the Mangamuka Reserve in daylight, and soon after, we peeled off SH1 towards Kohukohu.

I'd asked my copilot to check on the Rawene ferry schedule, but she'd reported the much more regular ferry from Paihia to Russell!  It turned out we'd missed the hourly boat by ten minutes, and so we were able to go back to Kohukohu for some morning tea.  

The 11am ferry coming in to dock

Our next stop was in Omapere, where we had another morning-tea-like stop, despite it being nearly lunchtime.  Since Kohukohu, we'd been driving roads we'd ridden with the girls, and I was intrigued by the variation in memory quality!  The Waipoua Forest was stunning, and after a very short walk, we spent 10 minutes admiring Tane Mahuta.  I felt a bit sorry for a young American tourist being disabused of her lofty impression of NZ's conservation values by a local warden.  

King of the jungle

Sarah requested we swing by the Kai Iwi Lakes.  Once there, we had a short walk onto the shore, and I was intrigued to learn that they are entirely rain fed, with lake levels determined by the tussle between rainfall and evaporation processes.  There were also warning signs that the lakes become incredibly deep not far from the shore, something we didn't investigate further.

We hatched a plan to circumnavigate the lakes together by bike, after which Sarah would drive to Dargaville to find us somewhere to stay, leaving me to find my own way there.  

There was a well marked cycling and walking track around the three distinct lakes, which seemed to have had a recent event on it, based on spraypainted arrows on the ground.  We saw a few people walking, but no other cyclists.  

After helping Sarah pack up her bike, I rode out the way we'd driven in, but after a couple of kilometres on the sealed road, turned off onto a nice undulating gravel road that lasted about 20km.  

Descending towards Omamari on a short sealed section

I got regular updates from Sarah in relation to accommodation, and fretted about work a wee bit while bashing along in relatively cold air.  As I neared Dargaville, I started seeing massive windmills which appeared to be a work-in-progress given that none were turning despite some wind.  

I hit the seal as I neared Dargaville, spending 5km or so on SH12 before finding Sarah waiting at the motel she'd secured.  After a shower, we drove into town for dinner, which we found at an old hotel (no rooms available, but plenty of kitchen capacity)!  

Stats:  54km ridden, including about 12km with Sarah around the lakes.

Pouto Peninsula

I've not yet done Tour Aotearoa, but have followed it enough that I'm familiar with Pouto Point as a landmark, near the mouth of the Kaipara Harbour.  I woke with a couple of 60km rides planned - one to do alone (towards Auckland) if Sarah didn't want to ride, and the other out towards Pouto Point if she was keen.  I was delighted to hear we'd both be suiting up.

We needed to check out of the motel, so it made sense to drive to the start of the ride, and we ended up parked almost where we'd been for dinner the night before.

It seemed to make sense to head out towards Pouto on the sealed road (the TA route, in fact), which offered an abundance of connectors to a gravel road that would take us back to Dargaville.  The point itself was too far away, and would keep!  

The main road was pleasant enough, though we barely saw the river we were riding along, and had a bit of a headwind to contend with - something to savour on the way home.  

Intriguing road name!

We passed through Te Kōpuru what looked to be about 15 minutes too early to avail ourselves of a coffee cart that was setting up.  Some kilometres south, we passed through a herd of cows being moved along the road, and it seemed I'd done a better job than Sarah of dodging their slop.  

We split up briefly, and I gobbled down a couple of extra kilometres of sealed road, before picking up the last connector out towards the coast.  Sarah was exactly where she was meant to be, which was excellent, and I was glad to still have her company.

We turned northwards together, and found the aforementioned tailwind.  I loved this leg - the gravel road was in great condition and it undulated in a way that kept the riding interesting.  What's more, there were views!

Looking east over the Wairoa River

I made a minor adjustment to the route which appeared to cut out a small climb, and also took us past a for sale sign, with a property descriptor this statistician really appreciated: "3.3338 Ha (More or Less)".  Well played, Rhonda.

As we neared the road that would take us inland and back to Dargaville, we had some lovely views over the Tasman Sea.  

I messed up just before town, and subjected Sarah to a road which appeared on my map to keep going, but terminated at a "Keep Out. Private Property" sign.  We obeyed, the upside being that we got to see a tree in a tree (stump), before bashing out the last few minutes of highway to get back to the car.  

Unclear if this was the same tree resprouting in its own stump

Stats:  68km ridden - the return leg was particularly awesome and deserves to be in the TA route!

* * *

We spent that night in Auckland at my sister's place, and the following day headed off around midday.  I'd initially been inclined to spend a few days poking around just south of the Manukau Harbour - a part of the country that has fascinated me on many occasions flying into Auckland Airport - but the lure of home had become too great, and we soon found ourselves close enough to Wellington that pushing on and getting home was within reason.

Excellent pizza in Waiouru - go figure!

I'd had riding aspirations to knock off every street north of Kaitāia, and while I'd been far from achieving this, it was nice to come home with a solid 570km banked, close to half of which had been ridden with Sarah.  For the time of year, we'd been really lucky with the weather, riding in short sleeves and without knee warmers on every ride.  

"New" roads

I do think there's campervan ownership somewhere in my future.  We stopped into a couple of showrooms in Auckland, and though there's no great rush, the thought of exploring New Zealand using one as a base is really taking hold.  "Riding down every street in New Zealand" has appeal, and having a mobile base would surely help!  

While we had very nice riding conditions, including an extra 20 minutes or so of daylight, I returned from the Far North feeling a little bit bummed out at how little native forest and birdlife we saw in Northland.  Other than on Tiritiri Matangi, I didn't see a single kererū, despite the skies up north seeming perfect for them.   On the other hand, we did see some remarkable exceptions, Tane Mahuta and the paradise ducks in particular!  And, there was plenty of clear running water and an abundance of fresh air.  The trip has given me new-found appreciation of how incredible Wellington is - whilst we're in the news for all the wrong reasons in terms of the state of the public service - the natural environment, including pockets of native bush everywhere and the abundant birdlife really shouldn't be taken for granted.  It is awesome.  

I appreciated the time away from the office, and felt like I put it to reasonable use.  I do always feel better after a block of riding - my body being glad for the exercise, a bit of weight loss, and ironically, the unfettered enjoyment of food.  I'm glad not to be stressed about how little riding I've been doing, and am always better for the stimulation of watching the world go by from the seat of my bike (absence of a negative and presence of a positive, if you will).   

It was also useful to know how calm I can feel in the right environment.  I've been feeling incredibly depressed at work, and yet the conditions are so depressing it is hard to know what response is needed.  Is it work?  Or, is it me?  Or, most likely, a bit of both?  And, whatever happens to be the case, how do I improve my experience of it, without fundamentally messing with who I am and how I want to roll?  

Sarah's redundancy from UNZ has led to a step-change in her happiness level.  And, she's making other people happy too, via her remarkable ceramic art.  I'm a super-proud husband, and am also grateful that she's willing to somewhat keep up her now secondary hobby of riding with me!  

Follow @_nomadic.ceramics on instagram

 

The trip has helped me learn I probably do not need to drop a small fortune on psychiatry - meds don't seem to be the answer to my symptoms.  The university system generally, and my university in particular, is under considerable strain at the moment.  And, I see both incredible promise and a way to contribute - to not only realising our potential, but staving off collapse.  I'm not willing to give up on it just yet, and in the meantime, will keep using it to fund incredible riding opportunities.  

Onwards!

Top notch MTB in the Top of the South

Riding the 2018 Tour de France One Day Ahead was so much more than a bike ride, and it brought some incredible people into my life.  When the organiser, Jonny Douglas, invited me to Cambridge to speak with the seven riders he's taking to do the 2026 route, I leapt at the chance - not only to see him, but also Steve, Mike and Paul (repeat offenders), Bruce (motivational speaker), Cam (logistics and mechanical support, once more), and of course, Julie.  By the time that weekend was done, Jonny had mentioned that he was putting together a mountain bike trip in the top of the South Island, and I told him I was keen.

When the dates were announced - to coincide with the opening of the Heaphy Track to mountain-bikers on the first of May, and as it turned out, some incredible weather - I realised I had some work awkwardness to navigate, but the trip and company were too good an opportunity to miss, and I committed.  

I was looking forward to seeing Matty - responsible for almost every aspect of One Day Ahead, from filming through to post-production - and Bill, whose prime responsibilities in France had been driving Matty around!  

As the travel approached, I became even more of a stress-box than usual - I'm not coping well with work at the moment, and prep for an overnight ride through the Heaphy added just enough load on my already frayed nerves, that my lower back was feeling a little funky when I woke on the Friday morning.  

My work obligations - namely delivering two 50 minute lectures between 11am and 2pm - hadn't played particularly nicely with Air New Zealand's 2:55pm schedule to Hokitika, but I'd devised an action plan.  Soon after 9am, Sarah and I drove to the airport and I checked my bike and gear in.  I smiled politely when I was told lounge access was still a few hours off, around which time I'd be heading to a lecture theatre.  I finished my second class on time, and was met outside by Sarah who'd kindly dedicated her day to helping me hoon around.  52 minutes after jumping in the car, I was airborne on a flight to Christchurch!  

After a short delay layover there, I enjoyed a spectacular flight over the Southern Alps and into Hokitika.  My pick-up was about an hour away, so I built up my bike, and then sat.  When Matty and Bill arrived in the van, I told them in all sincerity, that the wait had been one of the most peaceful hours of the last months.  And then we got stuck into the catch-up!!  

Hokitika Airport, after closing time

About an hour later, we were joining the rest of the group at a dinner table in the Blackball Hilton pub.  Jonny introduced me to Daz, TC, Dan and David.  Their connection to Jonny is that they'd been part of a group of bush runners who'd been exploring the Waitākere Ranges together on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays for over 20 years.  Matty had joined them as a teenager, and this is how he and Jonny had become friends.  (The rest is history, etc...)

Aside from great conversation, I had a very nice venison meal, and two desserts.  Outrageous, but with a big ride coming up, I figured it was also perfectly reasonable.  

Paparoa Track

My anticipation for the Paparoa Track was tinged with sadness - a trip I'd planned with Sarah and Khulan for Easter 2025 had been cancelled after Dad's fatal heart attack - but nonetheless I was excited to experience this masterpiece for the first time.  

After a 7am breakfast, we loaded our gear into the van for the short drive up to the trailhead. 

The boys had a bit of riding under their belts already, having ridden the Coppermine Loop in Nelson together on Thursday, followed by a shorter ride from Reefton the previous day.  Most were carrying a bit more gear, so there was a bit of faffing around before we were ready to ride.  

The post-ride plan was for Jonny to connect with a local friend, who'd drive him back for the van.   To avoid mooching around in riding gear for a few hours, I decided to carry a set of clothes, and Matty had accepted my haulage services for a sweatshirt.  I'd been warned off the hut water supplies, so had decided to carry a camelbak as well, which would also be easier to drink from on the fly.  

L-R:  Dan, Matty, Bill, Jonny, Daz, David, TC

After a few photos, we got underway, and I slotted in behind Bill.  We rode much of the first couple of hours like this, continuing our conversation in the van from the previous evening, and filling in plenty of gaps since our trip to France.  

There were reasonably frequent stops, to fill bottles in a stream, to cross swing bridges, and to play silly buggers with a camera!  In between, I was slowly coming to grips with my lightly loaded Aeroe rack gently tapping me on the bum when my rear suspension compressed.  It took me a few minutes to realise nothing sinister was happening!

Matty

Bill and I were ahead of all but David when we reached the turnoff to Garden Gully Hut, which we decided to check out, leaving our bikes on the main track so the others would know where we were.  After a short walk we found the hut, and were soon joined by everyone (and a resident weka)!

Jonny's rig, ex NZMTB Pro, Anton Cooper

Back on the bike, the main climb continued and we were soon breaking out of the bush as we neared Ces Clark Hut.  

Bill approaching Ces Clark Hut

There we found David, and before long, the whole party was together.  TC arrived last, bearing bad news - a few minutes below the hut, his seatpost clamp had sheared.  There was cell reception at the hut, so before setting off towards the van, he was able to call a bike shop in Greymouth to let them know what he needed.  The silver lining of this mishap was that Jonny wouldn't need to return for the van at the end of the day, and that everyone's post-ride change of clothes would be waiting for them.  

All our fingers crossed for a replacement being available, TC headed down, while the rest of us continued along the track.  I was finding it hard to keep my camera in my pocket, and more than once had to pull the pin on taking a shot, deciding that controlling my bike was more important in the moment!

The views were gorgeous, and were getting better as the cloud cover began to burn off.  

Sculpture above Croesus Knob

We were over 3.5 hours into the ride by the time the main climb was over, and we started enjoying undulating riding along the tops.  We met a wave of walkers who were going to stay at Ces Clark overnight.  Stopping to chat to some them was also a great opportunity to savour views down to the coast.

Approaching Moonlight Tops Hut, I was blown away by the spectacular sandstone escarpment beyond - damp rock was glistening in the sunshine, and it was hard to believe the track largely runs along the top of it.  

I had a nice moment while parking my bike in the rack outside the hut.  A rider named Mike came in and admitted to reading (and enjoying) this blog!  He and a mate had seen the weather window, and had driven over from Christchurch to ride the track in both directions over two days.  

Moonlight Tops Hut long-drops, with the escarpment beyond

After a spell in the sun, plenty of chit-chat and more snacking, we saddled up again.  I rode much of this section alone, in large part due to stopping for so many photos of the dramatic scenery.  

Looking north along the escarpment

I'd become a bit frustrated at how much focus was required on the track surface itself - this is a proper mountain bike track - and while my Yeti SB115 was performing admirably, lots of loose rock on the trail demanded the operator's attention.  To mitigate this, I was becoming a bit more deliberate about stopping for photos.  Occasionally clambering up rocks was necessary, and for one shot I even climbed a small tree.  

Moonlight Tops Hut visible just above the bush-line at the second low saddle from the right

Again, David (ahead) and TC (shopping) aside, we regrouped overlooking a spectacular argillite basin for a snack stop.  Once moving again, we passed a shelter, and then began the main descent to the coast.  

Jonny hooning

Jonny was kind enough to stop on a bridge - were he not there I may not have noticed the beautiful waterfall on our right - nowhere near to being at full noise, but very pretty nonetheless.  

Not far below it was a neat rock feature.  

Dan, making sure he wouldn't hit his head

NZ is rarely completely downhill, and there was still plenty of pedaling required to get to Pororari Hut - no doubt strategically placed for a four-day walking itinerary.  Matty arrived with his chain in his hand, and while no-one had an 11-speed quick link, Bill helped him repair his chain the old fashioned way - Matt was lucky his chain remained long enough for the full range of gears even after removing a couple of links.  

I left the hut first, hoping to find a nice spot to get a photo of each of my buddies.  After a couple of minutes freewheeling downhill, I realised I'd left my handlebar bag at the hut.  I quickly turned around, and started riding back up the hill.  Within a few minutes I had clear track ahead - the good news was that I'd avoided colliding with anyone, but the bad was learning from each of them that they hadn't grabbed my bag!

I found it exactly where I'd left it - near someone else's pile, presumably creating enough ambiguity that no-one was absolutely sure it was mine.  All-in-all, it was a good save, and within about 10 minutes I was riding on virgin trail once more, relieved I'd realised when I had!

Before too long I'd reached the Pororari River.  I was initially annoyed to find a goat sullying my view down-river, but then realised his ancestors may well have come to New Zealand on the same boat as mine, and decided I shouldn't judge.  

The Pororari River

I absolutely loved a stretch of track that was relatively flat and open, really getting my ex-roadie legs pumping, and had soon caught and passed Daz and then Dan before finding Matty enjoying the sunshine at a view point overlooking the river.  

The track had a bit of a sting in the tail, with mountain-bikers being diverted away from the river over a small hill.  I rejoiced at the sign warning of folk coming the other way, knowing this was code for "you're at the top and are about to go fast".  

David was waiting at the trailhead and announced that Jonny and Bill had gone ahead.  I was getting chilly, so moved on with Matty and Dan, while David waited for Daz.  A short stretch of gravel road took us out to SH6 just south of Punakaiki.  

Getting close to needing lights

Dan and I stuck to a cycle path while Matt took the highway, and I slightly regretted not having energy to visit the Pancake Rocks when we passed their entrance.  I've only ever been there once (when Jolene was pregnant with Kaitlyn in early 2000!) and had no recollection of the visitor centre on the main road, nor the wee forest between the highway and the rocks themselves.  

Arriving at our accommodation, it was good to learn that TC had managed to replace his broken clamp.  Showers and snacks later, we walked to a nearby pub, where I demolished some garlic bread and most of a pizza, saving a couple of slices of the latter for a riding snack the next day.  No one seemed keen for dessert, so I bought a few bits of Louise cake and Rocky Road from a cabinet and tried (without much success) to pry it into my mates before bed-time.  More riding snacks, it seemed!

I was learning more about the bush runners by the hour, and was fascinated to learn of the breadth of their outdoor experiences - Daz had us all entranced describing a high speed capsize of a racing yacht he'd crewed on between Auckland and Mooloolaba, back in his youth!  

Stats:  58km ridden, 1800m climbed.  5.5 hours riding, with an additional 3.5 hours stopped for photos, regrouping etc.  Temperature range:  9 to 20 degrees.  Glorious

Heaphy Track, part 1 - to Saxon Hut

We had a lot to get through on the Sunday, and despite our best efforts, we began running behind right from the get go.  While some were in charge of bacon and eggs, the rest of us loaded bikes into the trailer, and we were in the van not long after our aspirational departure time.

At Westport, Bill and I ducked into the New World, where I grabbed a hunk of bacon and egg pie to eat during the ride, a filled croissant to inhale between the checkout and the van, and a bottle of chocolate milk.  Most had gone straight to the cafe across the road, and when we joined them, I was delighted to find I was already in the queue for a flat white!

Next stop was Karamea, where we dived into a cafe for second breakfast (or for me, third half-breakfast).  I enjoyed a pie and coffee while listening to a chap we decided was called Zippo, tell us a bit about life in Karamea.  

"Zippo" was growing "tomatoes" (or actual tomatoes) and was quite worried about the diesel situation

It was a quick stop, and I was slightly aghast (and relieved) to see my bike waiting patiently for our return.  Seven bikes fitted nicely in the trailer, and the eighth would have been a squeeze, so it was tucked into the van after the riders.  Consequently, we couldn't all get out without leaning it against a nearby lamppost!!!!  Good what you can get away with in Karamea!!! 

While I'd been to Westport a couple of times (including during a 400km tandem ride), I'd never driven or ridden further north along the coast.  The small towns (presumably now slightly less small on account of the Old Ghost Road track bringing more activity into the area) were fascinating, as was the fact that the road ran inland between Mokihinui and Little Wanganui.  

I was full of anticipation as our final preparations concluded at the Heaphy trailhead.  Unlike the Paparoa, this is a Classic New Zealand Mountain Bike Ride, and I'd neither ridden it before establishment of the Kahurangi National Park in 1996, nor since DOC began allowing seasonal MTB access in 2011.  It was a relief to finally be righting a significant wrong!

The dry bag on my Aeroe rack was pretty full, carrying a small sleeping bag, freeze-dried dinner and breakfast, warm clothes with a little bit of redundancy, and snacks for both today's ride and tomorrow's.  That said, I'd managed to avoid carrying my Camelbak again, which I was very pleased about.  I'd irritated a bit of skin on my lower back, and would also avoid the dreaded sweat patch.  

Photo:  Dan Roberts

We were hitting it on the third day of the season, and we'd already seen plenty of riders both on Strava and in person who'd beaten us to the punch.  As we began the glorious 16km coastal section, we began to encounter more bikers on their way out, as well as day-walkers, and trampers.  

Looking back towards the trailhead from Kōhaihai Bluff

The track was drop-dead gorgeous, and it wasn't lost on us that our timing was exquisite.  

To the north, the coast was shrouded in light sea spray, and while the trail surface demanded regular attention, the views were stunning.  

The light for photos looking south was also amazing, and we were constantly leapfrogging one another and alternating between photography and modelling duties.  I loved that it was all unscripted, and just when you thought you'd be bringing up the rear for a while, there'd be someone else returning the favour.  

Original photo:  Dan Roberts

Nīkau palms were abundant, and as if they aren't awesome enough already, the light was bringing out the best in them. 

We arrived at Heaphy Hut just before 1pm, where everyone gave their bikes a bit of a rinse at a wash station to get rid of any sand.  We ate on the hut deck, where we witnessed one of the resident pīwakawaka plucking sandflies out of mid-air before they could settle in on some of our exposed skin.  

Heaphy Hut was the turnaround point for Daz.  Originally, Jonny had volunteered to forgo the full Heaphy, but Daz was feeling pretty weary after the Coppermine-Reefton-Paparoa combo, and seemed happy to relieve Jonny.  We farewelled him, and began the initially gentle climb along the Heaphy River.  

I chatted with TC for most of the stretch to the spectacular - and relatively new - bridge over the Heaphy River, a replacement for one washed away in a 2022 storm.  

Great curves, we all agreed

We stopped in at the Lewis Shelter, with only David up the track on his own.  We met three MTBers on their way to Heaphy Hut, and bummed the bloke out a little by not knowing the outcome of the Warriors match the previous night.  

I left the shelter first, and enjoyed the climb up to James Mackay Hut on my own.  I didn't expect to catch David, and wasn't really pushing the pace, but didn't stop apart from to clumsily walk my bike through occasional lumpy creek crossings.  It never ceases to amaze me how uncoordinated I am at such moments - I guess I get into such a pedaling rhythm that an abrupt change of approach doesn't look pretty!   

I did pass a group of 5 cyclists just before reaching the hut, including a young boy (about 10 years old), and a guy on what looked like a pre-national-park Heaphy rig, and the sort of thing my dear friend Simon might have ridden through on back in the day.  

Matt and Bill arrived shortly after I had, and announced another chain repair, this time aided by a quick-link donated by Daz.  We had a long wait for TC, who announced his cold symptoms had worsened, and his intent to stay overnight here.  We were all booked at the far end of the alpine section of the track, at Perry Saddle, and Jonny wasn't keen to rock the boat with such a large group.  We wished TC a good night, and pushed on.

Despite arriving at the hut under clear blue skies, we were soon riding in cloud cover.  A woman had told us it was "all down hill to Saxon Hut", but it became apparent she should have said it was "barely down hill to Saxon".   We met a DOC Ranger coming the other way, and I'd thought he was on an electric motor bike, but the boys said he'd cut his engine so as not to "ruin" our outdoor experience.  Very thoughtful - give that man an e-bike!

Bill and Matt passing me on one of my many photo stops

About half an hour from James Mackay, I found Matt and Dan deliberating about whether (and if so, when) to return to TC.  I wasn't keen to leave before knowing their decision, so waited patiently while they debated.  After a few minutes, they'd convinced themselves to turn around then and there, and I was able to press ahead with the valuable intel of what was happening.  It was really nice the way this long-since-established crew watched one another's backs, and beneath sometimes very casual appearances, were extremely experienced outdoorsmen.  

As I rode on, it got colder and colder, and as I neared Saxon Hut, I prepared myself for a very brief stop to inhale a bit of food.  I was met by Bill, and he told me the stop would be a bit longer - to the tune of at least 12 hours!!!  While I was ready to push back on a 15 minute stop, an overnight one seemed totally reasonable, and without hesitation, I saved my ride on my GPS, and started unloading my bike.  

Inside the hut I found Jonny, but learned David had pressed on before I'd arrived.  Two riders had actually planned to stay here - retired Cantabrians Sally and Ross.  They were both lovely and inspirational (only last year, they'd ridden from Mexico to Canada, in their late 60s), and we really enjoyed their company and conversation overnight - not to mention a bit of their leftover venison stew!  Sally had been a maths teacher, but didn't take the bait when I mentioned my job, and we mostly talked about cycling.  

To make a good evening even better, Bill managed to get a fire going, but the absolute highlight was discovering a resident takahē mooching around the hut while we did our business.  

Takahē - in the wild!

For dinner, I had a pretty good experience with my first freeze-dried meals in about 30 years.  I was especially pleased to have stowed a chocolate cake pudding from the Real Meals range that had been highly recommended by Brian Alder when I'd bumped into him on my shopping trip.  

Between the ride in, dinner, companions inside and outside, and the slowly warming hut, I was very content when I clambered into my lightweight sleeping bag.  It had been a spectacular day.  

47km ridden, 1400m climbed.  About 4.5 hours riding over an elapsed period of 6 hours.  Party of seven strewn across the Heaphy Track, in no fewer than three different huts!  Temperature range: 10 to 23 degrees.

Heaphy Track, part 2 - Saxon Hut out

I woke having had a sleep of two halves.  Soon after turning in, Bill's fire had really kicked in, and I'd taken off most of my clothes to avoid getting too hot.  In the wee hours the hut cooled significantly, and when I first woke feeling chilly, I really should have thrown a layer back on.  Instead, I had unsettled sleep for the remainder of the night, and woke a few times feeling cold.  

Once up, we found a heavy frost outside the hut.  We got in a bit more takahē action, before it inexplicably sprinted 50m and disappeared into bush cover, as if it had finally noticed us noticing it...!

We weren't sure what time to expect TC, Matty and Dan, so plugged away at morning chores (including drinking coffee, which wasn't at all a chore).  While we waited I was wearing almost all of my clothing, very glad that everything was dry!

Ross and Sally heading for Heaphy Hut

Not long after Sally and Ross had headed out towards the West Coast, a pair of men blasted past the hut heading in the same direction.  Soon after that, we heard the tell-tale sound of our cobbers arriving.  We welcomed them, and were soon brought up to speed on their night at James Mackay, and their ride to meet us.  TC was feeling a bit better for the extra rest, and was absolutely fizzing about the frosty ride.  

I quickly stowed a few layers of clothing, and made final preparations to ride.  I was very glad to have packed a pair of warmish gloves, and once on the move, was surprised how long it took before I began to feel overdressed in a woolen t-shirt, riding jersey, vest and jacket!    

Photo:  Matt Jenke

The alpine surroundings, and the conditions in which we were traversing them, were gorgeous and very photogenic.  And what's more, the ambient air temperature was becoming more user friendly by the minute.

Adjusting zippers was sufficient until we reached Gouland Downs Hut and took the opportunity to properly reorganise clothing.  I recalled that friends Jonathan and Bronnie had once spent a night in the (presumably much more empty) wood-shed only to be woken by a kiwi clambering over their sleeping bag.  What a special moment that must have been!

Photo:  Tony Cooper

I set off last and soon almost steamed into everyone gathered on a bridge to admire a whio keeping an eye on the stream below.  

About to set off, I wondered why Dan was motionless, only to see a South Island robin picking something off his shoe.  Oh nature...!!!!

We began climbing, and I began regretting not shedding my merino t-shirt at Gouland Downs.  I stopped yet again to do so, and once underway, soon passed a woman walking with one kid in a front pack and a slightly older one walking alongside her.  I later found out she's an influencer (Shoshannah), and was hauling about 40kg, including a potty for the youngest child.  

I passed TC and Dan shortly before arriving at Perry Saddle Hut, about 2 hours after leaving Saxon.  Given the experiences we'd had since leaving James Mackay, none of us was miffed about not staying here as planned.  If Jonny, Bill and I had continued, we would have done so under cloud cover, and no doubt darkness prior to arriving at the hut.  

There was no sign of David, and he hadn't written in the hut book. We hoped like hell he hadn't come a cropper somewhere.  

Dan surprised us with a block of chocolate, and we enjoyed a few hunks of that each before getting back out to the bikes.  

Getting ready to depart Perry Saddle Hut

After a short climb, we passed a sign indicating the highest point of the Heaphy Track, and then began a long and at times raucous descent towards the road end.  I got one glimpse of the coast, and stewed on not going back for a photo for a wee while.  

Just about everyone was descending faster than me, but Daz's arrival had prompted a regroup!  He'd stayed overnight near Motueka and had ridden towards us from the Langford Store.  It was a relief to hear he'd seen David!

Before too long, we were eight for the first time since Heaphy Hut, and after a short break, started on the gravel road towards the van.    

Something went haywire in my brain, and before long I found myself in a brutal paceline with Bill and Matty, which we kept rolling right through to the van, Bill taking a much deserved sprint win!  En route we'd spent a few seconds in the gutter, ensuring a very large tractor had the road to itself - I'd gone from feeling a bit stink letting a gap open up to Matt's wheel, to feeling very vindicated in my conservatism!

At the quirky Langford Store, I found a plethora of choice.  Chippies, an ice-cream, and a coffee, were one highlight, but also Sukhita, the proprietor, turned out to be a(nother) dear friend of Oli - owner/operator of Roadworks, whose flag I've been flying for about as long as I've been flying flags!  

The others arrived, and it was all I could do to not go back in and order another round of treats.  Instead, I decided to keep my powder dry for the next stop.

Photo:  Dan Roberts

We loaded up the trailer, and got out of riding gear.  Soon, we were at the Mussel Inn, between Collingwood and Takaka.  There, I thought it would be rude not to order the mussel chowder, despite being very tempted by a couple of the pies on offer and then having serious food envy after seeing some of the burgers that others chose.  The chowder was delicious, and at the end of a more sedate day would have been perfect!  No matter, it was a very late lunch so dinner was not far away!

Back in the van, the drive to our accommodation in Kaiteriteri passed fairly quickly, and I enjoyed picking out a few familiar places from a trip I'd done in early 2017 with Sarah and our beautiful daughters.  Jonny made a booking down in the village and we headed out once everyone was cleaned up.  Without realising, we segregated ourselves according to meal preference, with one table of four all ordering pork belly and the other table all choosing a Moroccan lamb salad.  

Stats:  43km ridden, with only 500m climbed.  Just under 3 hours riding, with 4h15 duration.  Temperature range, 7 to 18 degrees, though I suspect the GPS was still nice and toasty from the hut at the start of the ride, and never made it down to the actual minimum temperature!

The Great Taste Trail

Before bed, I'd signaled an intent to ride back to Nelson, rather than have a blat around the MTB Park before driving back.  Only David had seemed interested, and after breakfast, we easily extricated his bike from the trailer, and got ready to ride.  

I wasn't expecting the Great Taste Trail to begin in the park, but that it did, and it was well signposted.  

View from Kaiteriteri MTB Park back towards Nelson

I'd had only a couple of brief opportunities to chat with David up to this point, so it was nice to learn more about him, and for a lot of the time we rode side by side, chatting about family, mostly.  We'd had a hearty breakfast, so didn't take a side-trip into Motueka, and briefly got off-track before picking it up as we crossed the highway at the far end of town.  

The Janie Seddon shipwreck near Motueka

The trail took us along some road I'd raced in a Calder Stewart Series event, before turning, becoming gravel and climbing along a ridge.  While I enjoyed this stretch, there was nothing on it that fully explained why they'd come this way (even building dedicated track alongside a perfectly good, and no doubt rarely used, gravel road), and we were soon re-crossing the state highway, this time via a tunnel.  

Our arrival at the Māpua ferry terminal seemed well-timed - about 12:20, with the ferries to Rabbit Island leaving on the hour.  I ordered some pancakes which slid down very nicely indeed, bookended by a couple of flat whites.  Family friends (and nowadays, Māpua locals) Rowan and Emily stopped at our table to say hello, which was a nice surprise.

At a few minutes to 1pm, we headed towards the beach, only to discover that I'd missed some fine-print on the ferry website above the prominently displayed times:  "Operating Weekends, School & Public Holidays only".  Fortunately, David didn't seem too miffed, and such was the quality of my pancakes, I was very glad we hadn't known about the dead-end in advance!

It seemed silly to run the risk of crossing the highway a couple of times when the highway itself had a decent shoulder, and we'd only need to spend about 10 minutes on it, before turning off to pick up the Great Taste Trail again near the Rabbit Island causeway - my guess was we hadn't added more than 5km due to the detour).  It was fun to see much of what we rode towards Richmond from the air the next morning on my way back to Wellington.  

Before we'd reached the airport, we took the inland route picking up the old railway bench through Stoke.  A short climb later, we were bombing down towards Matty's, and I was delighted to instinctively nail the right offramp and so we got to his house without any ducking and diving.  There, we found everyone else getting stuck into bike disassembly.  Little cleaning was required, and before too long, there were six MTBs flight-ready, mine included.  

Highlights of the evening were being able to catch up with Bill and Matty's respective partners, by virtue of them all calling Nelson home.  

Stats:  77km ridden over 4 hours.  Very few stops.  Temperature range:  12 to 29 degrees!

* * *

This trip was real food for thought.

The riding was incredible, and while one wouldn't dare hope for the conditions we encountered (let alone presume them), even ridden in less brilliant conditions, the Heaphy and Paparoa Tracks are of mind blowing quality.  I'm deeply committed to returning with Sarah and Khulan (perhaps even Kaitlyn if she's inclined to dust off her MTBing legs), and am very glad to have had this experience first - it helps to know what to expect.  

I had no doubt I'd love seeing Jonny, Matt and Bill - and quality-time with each of those special men didn't disappoint.  

I haven't raced since 2017, and do most of my riding among a very small and well-established circle.  So, it was a nice experience to meet TC, Dan, Daz and David, and to get to know each of them better through conversation on or off the bike.  I was made to feel very welcome, despite their long history together, and it really did feel a privilege to be along for the ride.  

I was lucky that my back didn't prevent me from enjoying myself - something I wasn't at all confident about when I left home.  Legs-wise, my current level of fitness made the riding very comfortable, even hauling more gear than I needed from a safety point of view.  I'm nowhere near my peak, but it is very satisfying to have the physical range needed to be able to cruise and smell the roses!

I slightly alarmed Khulan announcing I wasn't intending to wear padded shorts on the Heaphy - largely to avoid having to wear them on the second day.  The Paparoa was no problem due to the nature of the trail and how much of it I spent up and down off the saddle.  The first day on the Heaphy was quite benign, and my butt was a little less happy by the end of that, but nothing that prevented me from enjoying day 3.  I treated myself to some lycra on the final ride with David, but otherwise returned home with all contact points in great shape.  

My bike setup was great - nice fat, grippy tyres were bomb-proof on the trails, and gone are the days where I'd feel inclined to swap them out for something lighter and/or faster rolling. Comfort and security for the win!   About a month prior to the trip I'd upgraded my derailleur to wireless electronic, and it worked flawlessly (this time)!  Compared to the multitude of components on predecessor wired systems, the shifting pod and derailleur itself are an incredibly elegant application of this technology.  The Yeti I'd treated myself to a few years ago really has been a god-send, and this was yet another experience on it that had me fizzing. 

I dithered about whether to use the rear Aeroe rack, or to use a first-generation Freeload rack on my fork (2010 vintage, having been released just before the first Kiwi Brevet), opting for the former solely due to the ease of removing it for the flight home.  Next time, I might explore reversing it to get my luggage further away from my arse, but all in all, it was a great first experience with it in the wild.  

I was happy with the gear I had with me, though wished I'd taken my incredibly lightweight backpack - I wouldn't have used it, but I could see it being handy to temporarily (or permanently) take weight off a rack.  Also, I need to get a bunch of 11- and 12-speed quick links.  It has been years since I've broken a chain, but you never know...  Finally, carrying a spare seat-post clamp is a low-cost insurance policy (and one which I've needed to enact).  

It was interesting to contrast this domestic trip to recent overseas jaunts, and to realise (or be reminded) both what a stunning country I live in, and how much of it I've not yet seen.  The weather here can be a bit of a handful, but no one ever finished a ride in NZ complaining about air pollution!  (Cold or freezing or very wet air is another story...!)  Another revelation was realising how much of a service industry has sprung up to support cycling in this country, and that I shouldn't feel compelled to be self sufficient from the moment a ride starts.

Another issue to ponder is the role of work in life.  Working hard has certainly enabled some incredible (and incredibly privileged) travel experiences.  But it is increasingly clear that it is coming at a great emotional toll.  Among my companions on this trip, I sensed a much more healthy approach to why one works, and what is truly important in life. I realise I've been pushing myself too hard, and have lost track of the why of it.  Perhaps I'll be brave enough to make changes, or at least explore the possibilities a bit more deliberately.  

While we were riding, Joe Nation rode not only Heaphy and Paparoa in a single "day", but also tucked the Old Ghost Road in between them (29 hours end-to-end).  I haven't yet done OGR, but this experience with Jonny and the others has given me both impetus and valuable experience from which to continue day-dreaming about experiencing these rides again, and filling in some of the gaps - albeit at a much more sedate schedule.  Until then, other adventures beckon!

Paparoa, Heaphy and the Great Taste Trail.  2-5 May, 2026