It is fair to say that over the last few years, I've fallen into some unhealthy riding habits.
Saturdays are a good bad example. Back in 2017, I logged rides on 41 out of 52 Saturdays, whereas this year, I've only managed 22 (with a single opportunity to come). Of those, the vast majority have been on trips (15), and I can only find a couple of times that I've gone out on my own at home. My brain generally tells me I'm too rooted to ride, and I can't muster any excitement to counter that. The trips are as much as anything, a deliberate strategy to combat this, but I do feel ashamed that they are what it takes to get me out.
The wheels began to fall off, or more to the point I began to fall off the wheels, in 2018 after returning from an incredible month in France. And since, the natural extension of A Karori Caper - riding down every street in the country - has begun to involve at least 3.5 hour's travel (car or plane) to get the next launch pad and back again.
Needing help, I tried to combat this in 2019, and in the first week back at the office, I rode home "the long way" three times. Taking the direct route past the Botanical Gardens would have been a 5km ride or thereabouts, but instead I developed the habit of riding out to Johnsonville, before enjoying about 40 minutes riding in the countryside - the Makara Loop to the locals. On a good night, I'd crank out the 32km ride in a little over an hour, while on a very slow night, it might be closer to 90 minutes.
It was a successful strategy, and by the end of the year, I'd ridden that route no fewer than 103 times. It would likely have been more, but we had a few weeks overseas (including our first cycle tour in Taiwan, and my first trip to Mongolia), but also I had problems with a recurring lower back issue which kept me off the bike for six weeks in between numbers 15 and 16.
Especially through the winter months, I noted the transformation that would typically occur by the time I reached Johnsonville. Many nights it would be a battle to find the energy to get changed, but I'd managed to flick a switch somewhere in my brain, and once outside, I'd force myself to turn left rather than right, and some 25 minutes later I'd be blasting through the outer suburbs, without a care in the world.
In 2020, we had our first taste of lock-down life, and commutes consisted of a very short indoor stroll. Once we were all liberated, I tried to mix up my short commutes a little, aiming to walk once or twice a week - about an hour if I was headed to my office in the CBD, or 45 minutes if to or from the Kelburn campus.
By this stage, Sarah had taken to riding her mountainbike through Waimapihi Reserve. Try as she might, for some reason I resisted, and left her to enjoy it alone. Springing for a new Yeti SB115 in March of 2023 didn't immediately help, and while I enjoyed the bike immensely when on it, I only dabbled with using it to commute.
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| Takahē through the Zealandia fence, one October's evening |
The useful kick in the arse that is my brain may well have been the trip with Sarah and Khulie to Tasmania. In the write up, I stated:
I clocked up almost 275km of riding, on my brand-new-to-this-blog 2022 Yeti SB115. I've had it since March, and bought it hoping it would reinvigorate my interest in riding. While I haven't ridden it a huge amount, every ride has put a smile on my face, and it has helped mix my exercise regimen up a bit.
I started 2019 with a goal to ride the Makara Loop home 100 times, and titled the rides in anticipation "first of many", "#2", "#3" etc. My commitment for 2024 was less overt, but I was nonetheless determined to make a regular thing of it. Now that work is done for the year, I'm happy to reflect on a successful strategy.
For a start, the big bike was an absolute hoot to ride into work. Mostly down hill, I did particularly enjoy the mornings where traffic conditions would require me to take evasive action of some sort, or pop up onto a curb, and latterly, hit the many new "sleeping policemen" (aka judder-bars, for those not in Mongolia) at speed. Big fat tyres and powerful brakes for the win!!!
The regular MTB ride has helped me realised how little it actually rains in Wellington, and even when it does, how quickly my new go-to trails dry out. The wind is partly to thank for Transient, Highbury Fling and the cheeky little track along the fenceline to Waiapu Road being so solid soon after rain, but so too the build quality of the tracks themselves (especially the first two). I've chipped in during wet weekends by going in with a leaf rake and pulling organic material of the trails until either I'm done, or am blistered.
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| Toutouwai keeping an eye on my progress |
I've been joined by Sarah fairly regularly, and also Paul Morten who I first met when I turned up to the Freyberg Bunch on my flat-bar road bike a decade or so ago. Often though, I've ridden on my own.
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| Morty and Sarah up near the windmill. Photo: BBJ (aka Big Bad John, per Morty) |
The trails are busy, and I enjoyed the winter months because I ceased to have problems with head-phone wearing joggers! For one, they were less common, but also because it is pretty obvious someone is behind you when all of a sudden you're running in your own shadow. On more than one occasion in the summer months I've started to feel creepy while following behind a woman jogging, incessantly yelling "HELLLLOOOOOOO!!!!" at an ever increasing volume.
Aside from seeing a few thousand fellow trail users over the span of the year, the birdlife that has ventured out of the sanctuary has been a highlight. It wasn't uncommon to hear the very distinct call of Tīeke, which were absent from the New Zealand mainland for a century, before being introduced to Zealandia in 2002. When I was raking, I'd often be followed along Highbury Fling by Toutouwai, and of course Kākā and Tūī are a dime a dozen. One evening in October, I rear-ended a Kererū!!! I'd startled it as I approached a narrow bit of track, and rather than sitting tight, it decided to fly ahead of me. I got its tail feathers in both eyes before it finally got up to speed, and boosted off. I was still in a bit of a flap myself a minute later, and almost came a cropper on a wet root!
The trail down to Waiapu Road was a nice skill-builder, and a couple of sections in particular kept me on my toes. After a few runs, I discovered I could not only safely descend a short flight of wooden stairs, but also cross the ditch at the bottom without getting stuck in it. I'm still damned if I know how the ditch-crossing actually works, but with a hundred successful attempts this year under my belt, I can confirm that it seems to...!
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| Photo: Khulan Tumen |
These rides have been a god-send on a bunch of levels. The physical benefits of an hour's commute most evenings for one thing. But, as my skill level subtly improved, and the trees lining the singletrack section seemed to move back from the trail ever so slightly, and I've been able to relax in a way that traditionally I'd only been able to on the road. And boy, is half an hour in native bush good for the soul.
Sarah's pottery continues to go from strength to strength, and so being able to commute with her also gave us a nice bit of purposeful quality time, even when we didn't find ourselves overlooking the city basking in its own glory.
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| #woagd |
It is a shame I need help to get out and ride one of my beautiful bikes, but tricks like this continue to be necessary. Maybe saying this out loud will make future tricks either easier to come up with, or less likely to be needed. Wishing you all a Merry Christmas, and happy plotting and scheming for what lies ahead.
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| 118 ascents of Transient for the 2024 year, with slight variation beyond it |
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