MTB’ing with Paul and Clarence

Text taken from the club newsletter.

MT BIKING WITH PAUL AND CLARENCE by TONY GAZLEY

Paul is a very fit road cyclist—4½ hours around Lake Taupo would be an average day. But it was a while since he had done any mountain biking. So while I was quite sure he was going to leave me behind on the climbs, maybe, just maybe, I could get ahead of him on the downhills and then we would be even.

I was about to find out as we pedalled out of the carpark at the Kahutere Stream bridge and immediately started up the 1,000 m climb to the saddle that would take us into the Clarence Reserve. And just as expected Paul slowly got further and further ahead in spite of all my efforts to keep up. We arrived at the summit of the 4WD road about 5 minutes apart after 2 hours of steep grinding away in granny-gear and were wiping the sweat away from our eyes when up the other side came a couple on horseback. We chattered for a bit and they told us our time up the hill was about the same as it took them when on their horses. I didn’t know whether to be happy or devastated with that news.

But it didn’t really matter, the weather was hot, calm, and there was barely a cloud in the sky, the view was great, and it was all downhill for the rest of the day. We were heading to Seymour Hut on the banks of the mighty Clarence River for two nights from where we would make daytrips up and down the tracks alongside the river. I started down the steep first section of the 600 m drop only to have Paul pass me on a rough section of the track and I couldn’t quite close the gap before we reached the bottom. Damn! It was clearly going to be one of those trips where I would be struggling to keep up with him whether going up or down hill. Although I did feel a bit better when he admitted he wouldn’t be as fast downhill if we swapped bikes and he then didn’t have the advantage of a bike with full suspension.

We stopped briefly at Warden Hut for a late lunch and then continued down the stream with many crossings, most of which were rideable. We dropped our bikes part way to make a detour to visit the old Black Spur Hut built from poplar slabs for the musterers in 1920 and which was still standing. Then more bumpy river travel and late in the afternoon we arrived at Seymour and made ourselves at home. We were travelling as light as possible so it was a fairly meagre evening meal, and then an early night ready for a longer day to come.

The next morning we were away just after sunrise along the road to Goose Flat—the northernmost end of the reserve. But first we stopped at Quail Flat to wander through a restored 1920s cob cottage and talk to a couple of blokes setting off to find possums that had been fitted with electronic collars to track how far they had travelled each night.

The 4WD track from here climbed up and over many spurs and the occasional slip. The surface was mostly great for easy riding and we took our time on the uphill to avoid sweating too much in the beating sunshine before letting rip on the downhill and level sections. All the time the views around us were stunning. A deep-blue river meandering between green terraces, and in the distance the tall peaks of the Inland Kaikoura Range including Mt Tapuae-o-Uenuku, Mt Alarm and Mitre, all beneath a cloudless blue sky. It was fast and easy MTB’ing at its best.

Some hours later at Goose Flat Hut we made ourselves a cup of tea and had lunch in the shade of an old willow tree. Here we agreed that on the return Paul would go his own speed while I would bring up the rear stopping for photos along the way.

Later in the afternoon when I arrived back at Seymour Hut after a swim in the river to cool off I found Paul working on his bike. It turned out one pedal had broken away from its axle leaving only the shaft on the pedal crank. The important bits had either broken beyond repair or were missing and we certainly hadn’t considered taking spare parts for pieces of bike that should never have failed. So he was now going to have to ride wearing one bike shoe clipped into the good pedal and an old and battered running shoe on the other foot and using just the bare pedal shaft. Ha!—now maybe I could keep up with him.

The next day we started off early again and headed up Seymour Stream as far as the turn-off to Palmer Hut where we dropped most of our gear. Then a long steep 500 m climb up a track with a very difficult riding surface. Paul was not far ahead when I saw him stop riding and start walking. The lack of two proper pedals was obviously troubling him so I walked too without falling any further behind. But once on the following downhill he raced off same today as when it was first used by musterers except there would have been a horse and not an MTB parked outside

ABOVE RIGHT: Black Spur Hut. Built in 1920 it looks much the

Photos: TONY GAZLEY with all the 10 bunks full. Originally the gaps between the poplar slabs were filled with mud

RIGHT: Inside Willows Hut. This would have been cramped

PREVIOUS BOTTOM: The Clarence River winds past

Goose Flats which was once extensively farmed faster than ever—obviously determined not to let the missing pedal slow him there.

We arrived at the Willows Hut only a few minutes apart but I was actually surprised to see him still there—I thought he would be at least started on his way up the last climb to Palmer Hut. It turned out the missing pedal was making riding more awkward than he thought so he had decided to call it quits and was instead filling the billy from the nearby stream ready to make our lunchtime drink of tea.

The Willows was another poplar slab musterers hut also build about 1920 and still had the interior much as it would have been then including the rough sawn bunks with dried grass for mattresses. We sat outside in the warm sunshine drinking tea and admiring the scenery which, although stark and barren, was strangely attractive. Since we had decided we were not going the last few kilometres to Palmer Hut there was no hurry and we lingered for quite some time before starting up the climb and the easy 4WD sidle track back to our packs.

From here it was just a short ride back up Seymour Stream with the many stream crossings to get to Warden Hut. It was a competition to see who could ride the most crossings and we were even until a particularly deep one where I got sideways on the rocks and abruptly stopped. Hurriedly twisting one foot out of the pedal clip I promptly fell the other way and took an impromptu bath in the river. It had to happen to one of us—fortunately we could get a roaring fire going in the potbelly in the hut to dry my clothes. Our evening meal cleaned up all the food we were still carrying and then a last early night in a comfortable hut.

The next morning was fine again although there was now was some ragged mist hanging about the hill tops. We made a fairly relaxed start—after all we only had the easy graded climb back up to the saddle and then there was the ripping fast and scary 1,000 m descent back to the carpark. After a short drive back to Kaikoura (with a stop to collect some delicious apples growing wild beside the road), and a last meal together we went our separate ways. Me to Picton and the ferry home while Paul headed to Christchurch for yet more biking. But this time to a 160 km race on his flash road bike—which actually had two pedals.