challenge and reward in the heart of the kaimanawas Wo r d s Pau l S m ith P h oto s Cale b S m ith
Itae cus de que que il mo venimi, sim sitam conecabo. Ut re nectemporrum aut volore dem fugiae nimpore peria quis derioribus.
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t was nine in the morning and we were staring through the windscreen at a sizeable and freshly toppled beech tree lying across the road, a few kilometres away from the start of Te Iringa track. Our bikes were still strapped securely to the cars, yet the first challenge had confronted us. I often question why mountain biking consumes me absolutely, why I leave family at home to spend hours with my bike and the trails. At times I enjoy the solitude of riding alone, other times I’m energised by the company of likeminded riding buddies. Of course it’s rewarding to simply get out in the bush and explore this beautiful country, but always, always, there is the challenge. A good ride, alone or with company, might offer elements of physical and technical challenge and a little scenic reward. But a truly great ride contains all of these elements. Personal space, good company, wonderful scenery and challenge after challenge after challenge. These are the rides that stick in the memory and make the trudge of work in the real world tolerable. So when Tim, designer of Freeload racks, mentioned a short-notice trip into the Kaimanawa Forest Park I didn’t have to think twice. The plan was to head along Te Iringa trail and stay at Oamaru Hut. We’d be packing our overnight gear in and out. Caleb, of course, wanted to document the trip in photographs. Allister Worrall, GT distributor and a veteran of this trail, supplied demo bikes and joined the party. All up we were six riders on two hardtails and four full suspension bikes, two of which were 29ers. We carried our overnight gear on nine Freeload racks loaded with dry bags, and in backpacks of various capacities. I was carrying around twelve kilograms of gear, including food and water, spread between a small backpack and front and rear racks mounted on a demo GT Sensor 29er Pro. Measuring this ride by the number of potential challenges, it was set to be great: an unfamiliar bike loaded to upset the handling, new riding buddies, an overnight hut stay, and the unknown quantity of a virgin ride on a backcountry tramping track.
caleb had chickened out on riding these steps on a previous trip on the track and wasnt about to leave them unridden again. it wasnt quick, but he got it done
Te Iringa track has recently opened for mountain biking on a trial basis. DOC keeps many similar tracks closed to bikes due to fears of trail damage and conflict with trampers. However, tracks like this are not the domain of the armoured-up downhill crowd, and difficult terrain and inaccessibility put off those who prefer the managed risks of groomed trails at Woodhill, Makara Peak, Rotorua and the like. Backcountry tracks are not built by mountain bikers and graded for a defined rider skill level. They are certainly not all rideable, even by the most confident and skilled. They require pushing, lifting and carrying of bikes over and around obstacles. There may be fallen branches and trees to negotiate, ruts, slips, washouts, precarious swing bridges, narrow ledges with serious exposure, unrideable roots, rocks and drops, and bogs that swallow whole wheels. But they also contain many, many kilometres of sweet and seemingly unridden singletrack. Riding these trails feels like being a modern pioneer: taking a mountain bike where few others have ventured. A trip like this is nothing short of a Boy’s Own adventure. Te Iringa track is ridden as an out-and-back trip. It’s eighteen kilometres each way, with around 2300 m of climbing in total. It can be viewed in four sections: a climb to 1000 m (mostly rideable), an undulating traverse with plenty of exposure (sometimes rideable), a sweet singletrack descent losing 500 m in
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altitude (all rideable), and an undulating singletrack following a river (mostly rideable). It took us seven hours one way, and the same to come back. Some of this was down to the regular photo stops along the way, and some was caused by Tim extending the lunch stop by pulling out a stove, coffee pot and freshly ground coffee. Mostly, however, it was due to the stop-start nature of bush track riding, with its regular dismounts, and the additional load we were lugging along on our bikes and backs. Despite the challenges we faced on this ride, some self-imposed, there were only two incidents that might have really affected our trip. One was innocuous: one of the countless branches littering the trail sprang up into Caleb’s derailleur and tore it from the frame. Some head scratching later, we had a solution. Nearly a full day of riding proved that it is possible to bodge a 140 mm full suspension bike as a singlespeed and ride most of Te Iringa trail. The second incident was potentially more serious: close to the last descent, on the exposed traverse, Tim disappeared over a drop-off, and continued to disappear off the edge of the trail. Panic bubbled up—how far was the drop? We found Tim five metres down, suspended on the huge roots of an upended tree. A few metres to each side, the drop was more like fifty metres. In the end, there was nothing more serious than a sore knee, some nervous laughter, and dented pride.
Itae cus de que que il mo venimi, sim sitam conecabo. Ut re nectemporrum aut volore dem fugiae nimpore peria quis derioribus.
Itae cus de que que il mo venimi, sim sitam conecabo. Ut re nectemporrum aut volore dem fugiae nimpore peria quis derioribus.
Itae cus de que que il mo venimi, sim sitam conecabo. Ut re nectemporrum aut volore dem fugiae nimpore peria quis derioribus.
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As my Dad used to say, “you get nowt for nowt, son.” While Te Iringa poses many challenges and a hell of a lot of hard work, the rewards are truly worthwhile. Everyone should experience the unworldly beauty of a beech forest at 1000 m, or take lunch by a bend in the river overlooked by a pumice cliff carved by centuries of flowing water. Of course, for mountain bikers the singletrack is the ultimate reward. Te Iringa consists entirely of challenging and memorable singletrack, but a few significant sections really bring satisfaction: a fast and sinuous twenty minute descent covered with beech leaf ‘cornflakes’ that encourage drifting at every opportunity; a deceptively easy trail following the river through native bush, peppered with obstacles and ‘are they or aren’t they rideable’ bogs; and the final descent to the car park, dropping 500 m over countless roots and rideable drop-offs. To top it all off, the difficulty of carrying gear gives you plenty of extra time to get to know your riding buddies.
Itae cus de que que il mo venimi, sim sitam conecabo. Ut re nectemporrum aut volore dem fugiae nimpore peria quis derioribus.
There was continual laughter on this trip. New friends were made, and old friendships became tighter after thirty-two hours together in the bush. The combination of difficult terrain, unfamiliar equipment, photo stops, and the social requirements of new riding company made this trip a significant challenge for me. I found my feet at the hut, and the return trip was spectacular. Every riding group has a mix of abilities, and each rider has strengths and weaknesses. I baulked at some of the slower and steeper technical riding, but some of the sections that I considered unrideable were shown to be perfectly rideable by my buddies. I rode much more of the trail than I would have if I’d been alone. I finished the trip a better rider. The rewards far surpassed anything I could get from even the finest purpose-built mountain bike trail. This was a truly great ride, and the memory of it will stick with me for a long, long time. And what of the first challenge, the fallen beech tree on the road? As we parked up and got ready to ride to the track, a hunter appeared in a 4WD on the other side of the tree. He had the chainsaw, we had the muscle, and in less than an hour the road was passable. One challenge down. Many to go.
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