Mountain biking prospects in Auckland might seem grim at first, but when you start searching beyond the city walls as we found this weekend, you can stumble on some amazing ride-able (and not so ride-able) mountain bike trails...
Views from the Challenge track over the Upper Mangatawhiri Dam
Anything that mentions "challenge" in the name is just asking for attention. The Mangatawhiri Challenge Track rides a ridge high above the reservoir in the western side of the Hunua Ranges. We were hoping that the last week's rain dump wouldn't overwrite the past few weeks of hot, dry weather - but no luck. The trail was now slick and greasy making for a tough time pushing our bikes up the hills, let alone riding up. On the marginal climbs, it was a tight balancing act keeping enough weight on the back wheel for traction without flipping the bike backwards.
The downhill sections often came with three gouges in the trail - one for back wheel, one for the front wheel, and one for the foot as you skidded down sideways while locking the back wheel for all its worth.
Mangatawhiri Challenge - complete
In the middle of nowhere... relaxing in a barn shed in a typical Hunua meadow
After the 2 hour lap of the Mangatawhiri Challenge track, my thirst for fast flowing rideable trails had not been fully quenched, so I returned to the tried and tested Lower Mangatawhiri River track. Work bees and volunteer days over the summer have kept these trails in great condition. A pleasant contrast to the intense bike tramp on the ridge, I appreciated their work all the more and was on a true MTB high.
Wounded - an old cut oozes open after a fall
Sections of twisty technical track, stream crossings, short uphill grunts and root gardens required alertness and fixed concentration but every so often the trail emerged to a wide untamed meadow. Relaxation... It'd be a rare occasion to see anyone else out here. You feel completely surrounded by the Hunua Hills and get a real taste of wilderness riding. Its a hugely different experience to Woodhill for a change, and the hour long drive from the North Shore was well worth the effort.
Based in Pukawa Paradise in a cosy bach just out of Turangi, we found ourselves spoilt for choice. The bucket filled with the wonders of Tongariro was overflowing, and over three days we attempted to soak up as much of the adventure as we could. A well deserved day of rest was indulged in after an intense day in the Kaweka Ranges. So we feasted on many brews and weighed up our many options.
Clicking into gear at the crest of the 'Devil's Staircase'
Royal red - and not an ounce of snow - still a true summer crossing in the middle of autumn
Vibram FiveFingers - Ben's Bikilas ticking over on the smooth South Crater
Ben and Kristian both decided to take on the Crossing running in their Vibram FiveFingers. Despite the trail's outward appearance of being rough mountainous terrain, since the trail is so well used the actual surface is about 75% finely crushed volcanic rock - an ideal running surface - the Vibrams had no problems skipping over the occasional rocky section. With a zero-drop heel and virtually no cushioning, each footstep would be placed exactly where it was intended.
An inspired mountain dance at the Emerald Lakes
The final climb to Blue Lake before the buzz downhill!
We were in two mindsets on the run - half of us wanted to push ourselves and see how fast we could churn through the 19.8km trail. The other half wanted to savour the rare occasion of a completely clear morning in the midst of the mountain arena. In the end we managed both, taking photos on the run and stopping for the occasional intoxicating sulphur whiff at the lakes.
Blue Lake
A sensational view over Turangi and the gleaming Lake Taupo. Kristian cranking a casual mid-descent air guitar riff
Once past the North Crater we took on the 1100m descent with full force not stopping till we reached the Ketetahi Carpark. From Mangatepopo to Ketetahi in 2hrs15 sounded good to the ear, but upon learning that the record was 1hr25 set by Callum Harlind, we felt put in our places!
Lake Rotopounamu - pristine
Lake Rotopounamu is found secretly perched behind Turangi, a local taonga to the Maori. We shared their treasure on another crisp Tongariro morning, encircling the 7km lake-loop slowly, still recovering from the past week's activity. The huge amount of net downhill had punished our quads like never before. Even so it was worth the brief pain warming up to discover another beautiful new place.
Clear reflections
A familiar footprint
Blitzing the trails at Craters of the Moon
To cap off a sensational week, Craters of the Moon mountain bike park on the outskirts of Taupo was the last item on our list. Named after the volcanic craters that steam away in the park, a quality network of trails were just waiting to be explored. The fast flowing Outback trail gave us a good warm-up tour before we sweated up the Grinder, earning ourselves a fun and long winding descent which was aptly named Better than P.
By the time we arrived back in Auckland, after eleven days of glorious adventure by kayak, foot, and mountain-bike, we were exhausted. But not for long. Checking in on the teams from the 5-day GODZone Adventure Race in Queenstown, we almost forgot that these teams had been on the go for up to 120 hours with less than 3 hours sleep per night. I enjoy my sleep, but there is something extremely elusive about racing non-stop through the mountains of the south in a teams of four only kept together by an overwhelming sense of adventure, fun and insanity. What could be better?
It doesn't get much tougher than the Kawekas. Rated as the hardest mountain marathon in the North Island, the Kaweka Challenge Course #1 gained legendary status over the years that the Hawkes Bay Tramping Club ran the event every year in late February. Sadly, the smashfest had its last outing in 2011 when it was deemed too dangerous, too hard, and too difficult to organise.
The first ascent of Kuripapango
So. This Easter, Kristian Day, Ben Duggan, and myself, set out to end the drought, end the famine left in the wake of this awesome event's absence in twenty-twelve. Kristian scoffed at the DoC signs recommendation for "sturdy tramping boots" as he slipped on his Five-fingered Spyridons. I traced my finger over our route on the park map. We were excited and rearing to go.
6:52am at the trailhead beneath the imposing Kuripapango, basking in red sunrise, we began the long gallop. Into the Montagnes...
Five fingers clenching the trail
Above the clouds
The first of a long string of nutritional disasters began to emerge as we sweated our way to the summit of "The Hill" - Kuripapango. The first of many. 750m of climb burned into our cold calf muscles, a rude awakening. I was still half asleep after the pre-five-a.m. wakeup.
Trail-gasmic single-track spat us out of the plush pine forest and plunged us into the unknown. The morning was still unsettled, and mist blew us into a whiteout as we dodged tall rocky statues, struggling to negotiate steep switchbacks smothered in cinder scree. We arrived at Kiwi Saddle Hut still laughing and whooping.
Into the unknown
Back in the shelter of ridge-line bush, allowing us glimpses of "The Tits" (a unique rock formation on the next range) the layers of geothermal and ultra-core were stripped off. Just in time, the mist had cleared and we were now running across barren exposed tops. Classical Kawekas. Sun sprayed our backs with warmth, our only respite was that the April blaze had no chance of dealing out any sunburn, not today. A contrast to this time last April, Kaweka J was covered in snow by now! Weather at 1700 metres plays by its own rules. Especially on Kaweka J.
The lone runner
Kristian usually never considers lunching on the summit, gale winds often forcing him straight up and over - dashing for shelter. But today we chowed down on heavy-duty pizza, freshly baked by the legendary Ruby Muir. It does your soul a lot of good to escape the city push, to leave the rush behind you and get out in to the bush. And amongst the mountains, calories are the only currency.
Ruapehu and Ngauruhoe seemed so close ... only 100km of Kaweka and Kaimanawa lay between us.
Home to the infamous Kaweka-Kaimanawa Traverse. That's another story, for another day.
The sun beat down on us as we tackled the tops
Off the tops and onto the clay pans, we were gifted a temporary refuge from climbing. Even so, I was suffering. My quads were obliterated after the four-thousand-foot freefall from Kaweka J and I was now paying for it. Also, hunger was starting to dominate my thoughts, all I could think of was the loaded slice of pizza left in the car... Minimalism is a balancing act. Minimalism can be the difference between the worst time in your life and just a pleasant bizarre nightmare. Too much gear? Too much food? A slow, heavy time. Not enough gear? Not enough food? A cold, hungry time. What is better?
Ben sucking down a juicy Leppin energy gel
Ben and Kristian slogged on ahead, also suffering, starving, only a handful of leppin gels left to get them through the final 20km. We were now scrimping, saving and rationing.
Having a ball on the descent from Kaweka J
Soon we reached a decisive turn in our journey. We could clearly see our next trail marker, pinned to a pinus contorta only 1km away... on the other side of the ravine. All that lay in our way was the vast Donald canyon, a deep cavern measureless to man. The descent was steep going, the river was fast flowing, and on the climb our weariness showing.
Alive again - a wash in the Donald
But there was light at the end of the suffering. As we slogged up Kuripapango for the second time of the day, I remembered the bottle of Tui that I'd stashed in the bushes earlier that morning. Warm and fizzy - liquid gold. Energy that Leppin gels couldn't offer, we sprang down the 750m descent from K-Pong with only 3.5 short kilometres left to the car park... 9 hours 53 minutes, a long day.
It had been a dream of mine for over a year to visit the Kaweka Ranges. Its only when an event is cancelled that you realise that some opportunities can't be put off forever, or they'll disappear. Luckily, the mountains were still there, the same barren tops, the same deep river canyons, and the same brutal climbs. Bar a few hunters, we had the mountains for ourselves to enjoy on a rare day of perfect autumn weather.
Back at the car, we tucked into the long-awaited pizza, and all the hunger suffering was instantly forgotten. The only memories left were ones of awe and amazement, the Kawekas really lived up to their reputation! Like nowhere else in the North Island, I'll be back.
If the race is put back on in the future I'll be only too happy to enter... Summed up by Kristian Day from Eskdale, "It was a physical day, but, a good day, in the montagnes..."
See here the Garmin link to our route map, run statistics, and more...
The Kaweka Ballad
There's a trail, they said, o'er the range
But the way of it, none seemed to know
Yet the urge to try was upon me now
So I knew, I had to go
I leapt the dry stone wall
To the mountains I gave a call
We drank in the milk of paradise
Thats Leppin for those unaware
A speck, a mist, a shape I whist
This mountain range has days to twist
Cardomon and cinnamon
The taste of leppin from deep within
The mountains did decree
A cold and bitter symphony
Dealt out in torment thrice
Our only respite
A pot o' cream'd rice
Then shades stroll in of Kris and Ben
From out the swiriling fogs
Tales of tracks and other shacks
Of rivers, peaks and bogs
For I have watched the chamois leap
And seen the red stag run
And I have made the rifle crack
In the golden morning sun
Those far off ranges draw my mind
Of gorges, lawyer vine entwined
That unseen cord, umbilical
Attached to far off bush and hill
[Collaborated by Alastair McDowell]
Ben was so hungry at one point he tried to eat a deer
The Mohaka River is no river to be messed with, especially after three days of rain. Arriving at the brown, flooded river on Easter Friday was an eye opener. The muddy torrent owes it's source to high in the Kaweka Ranges, the full length winding its way through 140km of stunning and often very remote mountain country. Hawkes Bay's finest. And the only way to get there? On the water...
Don't Mess with the Mohaka
Over three days of the Easter weekend, I joined AUCC for a deluxe sequence of rafting and kayaking of the grade II and grade III sections of the mid-Mohaka. Our campsite was established at Willow Flat in the slushy riverside paddock. Over the following days we would learn to be satisfied living in the wet. That's what kayaking is about right? Three days of rain suited us fine, and could not stop us from setting alight a flaming bonfire every evening without fail.
Sam Manson in the thick of it
As the precautious club we were, we treated the first grade II section as an unknown river, confused by the turbulence and potentially blockaged by fallen trees in the past storm. So for the debut run, we took to the rafts to scope out the first 8km of white-water goodness.
No problems on the raft, we cruised down easily taking in the vistas for the first time, and enjoying being back on the water. The more experienced paddlers amongst us kayaked alongside also finding the river easy going despite the high flow.
Having graduated from the grade II, a night of fire food and folly rested us for the 'big day': it was time to tackle the grade III. Tight gorges, steep cliff faces, intense and extended rapids, small drop offs and more difficult route choice made this more challenging and more exciting than the grade II.. But again, this was an unknown river, still raging in flood - the nerves and apprehension showed on our instructors faces as they warned us of the dangers and tried to convince the weaker of us to drop out for another day...
Rip-roaring torrents did their best to flip us into the cold river.
The strong arm of hypothermia often punched through the river surface, licking our faces and trying to drag others down with her. One unlucky raft ahead of us plunged into a hole at an angle and were all ejected into the rapids - even with multiple thermals, a wetsuit and dry top, this meant a cold swim to shore. Out of the river to the stony bank, they needed to keep moving lest they make themselves a liability.
Precipitous eroded hillsides characterised the upper Mohaka section, and matched the greyish floodwater
A gourmet selection cooked over the Primus
Jenny showcasing her skills in the Grade III section, she was a fantastic instructor
Sigh of relief and a swig of satisfaction
A victory beer after surviving the Mohaka grade II sealed the deal. A huge buzz, and a fantastic Easter weekend.
Finally, read about a group of three adventure racers who decided to go 'Source to Sea' - kayaking the entire 140km of the Mohaka River. From the source located upstream of Tui's famous Mangatainoka Springs, winding through sections of up to grade IV rapids and waterfalls, the trio emerged at Mohaka township on the east coast in the winter of 2009.
Caballo Blanco was best known through Christopher McDougall's book, Born to Run. Chris met the mysterious man in New Mexico on his fascinating search for the lost tribe of ultra runners - the Tarahumara Raramuri. Living in the rugged Copper Canyon of the Sierra Madre, they run monumental distances simply as a way of life. Caballo Blanco (Micah True) managed to organise an 80km race through the canyons - the Caballo Blanco Ultramarathon.
Tragically, on Tuesday 27th March, Micah went for a 12 mile trail run in New Mexico and never returned...
