nz mountain biker magazine

Feature: The Boomer 'E'volution

While Gen X, Millennials, and Gen Z have long been purveyors of mountain biking (in fact, we know many who could ride before they could walk!) there’s a whole other generation of cyclists currently getting a new lease of life on your local trails. The new kids on the block are not actually kids at all, though. They’re the Baby Boomer generation – aged between 57 and 75 this year, and affectionately known just as ‘Boomers’ – complete with slick eMTBs and all the kit. If you haven’t seen them out on the trails (often riding in a large pack) you’re sure to catch a glimpse of them racing through the trees soon enough.

Two such Boomers are Tim and Pat Felton, although they prefer not to be called that. Full disclaimer here: Tim and Pat are my parents, so if my tone sounds a little endearing, it’s because it’s supposed to. The Felton’s are no strangers to mountain biking – Tim first bought mountain bikes for the family in the late 90’s, in the hopes we would all ride together out in the patch of forest now known as Woodhill Mountain Bike Park. Initial outings were somewhat disastrous (rugged tracks, ankle deep sand and massive tree roots come to mind) but some years later, when they became ‘empty nesters’, Tim and Pat bought new mountain bikes to take with them on campervan trips around New Zealand. During this time, they completed the Otago Rail Trail and the Twin Coast Cycle Trail to name a few great rides. Those mountain bikes (generic hardtails that did the job but were nothing special) were passed around the entire family, and then some. They’ve only just been handed over to new owners some 10+ years after Tim and Pat bought them. But room had to be made in the garage because [cue suspenseful music] the eMTBs have landed!

“On eMTBs we can explore places we’ve never been before – without having to worry too much about getting exhausted or riding too far and not being able to get back easily,” explains Tim. “Carrying supplies in a panier or pack is also easier and the added weight isn’t noticed, thanks to the power of the bike.”

Make that ‘thanks to the power of Bosch’, too. Bosch- powered eMTBs are partly responsible for this recent ‘boom’ in older, first-time mountain bikers, thanks to their modern technology, slick design and raft of features suitable for both beginner mountain bikers and those who are more advanced. Long battery range offers peace of mind when Tim, Pat and their friends head out on the trails for the day, while different ‘modes’ offer increased power meaning that it’s not just the downhills which are fun but the uphills and long straights as well. Even stretches of road – previously making for sluggish work on a traditional MTB – have become easy and enjoyable to tackle.

There’s a good reason bikes are in short supply countrywide. The ongoing pandemic and repetitive lockdowns have seen an increased number of sales, with the Baby Boomer generation keen to spend their money on high-end eMTBs and gear and get out on the trails as quickly as possible.

“We were already doing a lot of walking during lockdown, but getting the eMTBs enabled us to explore our own neighbourhood even more,” says Pat. “It turns out there are some great trails really local to us, including Shakespeare Park on the Whangaparaoa Peninsula, and Sanders Reserve in Paremoremo, which have been fun to practise on.”

And practise has been key. Although no strangers to cycling, riding eMTBs is a different game altogether and has taken some getting used to. “We were used to riding on the road – and even some light off- roading – as we’ve done that for years, but now we’re trying to build up our skills and confidence on slightly steeper, harder trails,” explains Tim.

Riding eMTBs is not just about learning something new and getting fitter, it has also opened up a whole world of possibility with regard to trips away within New Zealand. With the rest of the Felton family still based in the UK, regular trips across the globe were normal for Tim and Pat, during the pre-pandemic years, as it was their only means of catching up with their siblings and lifelong friends. Now, with the pandemic still raging, they’ve had to change their perspective on travel and pivot towards New Zealand based adventures – something that’s not hard to do when you’re armed with an eMTB and a luxury specific to Baby Boomers: time.

What this also means, is that Tim and Pat are rarely alone on their eMTBing adventures. The age and stage they are at in life means there is a slew of others in the same boat who are keen to join them.... and there’s no dawdling! In fact, seeing them all out together in a big crew you’d be mistaken for thinking they were a squad of riders half their age.

“As a group, we’ve done some of the great New Zealand rides over the years,” says Tim. “But now, with the eMTBs, it’s about pushing the limits a bit and going on some real adventures. We’re keen to head out into the wilderness a bit more and these bikes give us the opportunity to do that – without having to worry too much about fatigue or burning out on long trails.”

The Boomer ‘E’volution proves it’s never too late to hop on a bike and hit the trails or plan a multi-day bikepacking trip with a group of likeminded friends. There has to be some silver linings to this pandemic, and new people joining our mountain biking community – regardless of age, stage, skill-level or the bike they are riding – is definitely one of them. •

Words: Kerrie Morgan
Photography: Cameron Mackenzie

by nz mountain biker magazine

Feature: Otherworldly Adventures Mountain biking in Iran

For the past year – almost to the day – I have called Tehran, the capital of the Islamic Republic of Iran, home. After arriving from New Zealand directly into Tehran’s Imam Khomeini International Airport, in November 2020, it became immediately clear there were many major contrasts between this country and my homeland, New Zealand. The picture painted of this country, in the western mainstream media, will be known to many of those reading this. Before going any further, I should quickly explain why I am currently based in Iran: my wife is a New Zealand diplomat and has been posted from Wellington to work at the New Zealand Embassy, in Tehran, for three years. After the initial adjustments to life, in the first six months, the remainder of our first year has sailed by.

Prior to our departure from New Zealand, I was determined to keep an open mind so as to experience this place as fully as possible. The sum of the geographic, cultural, political and social differences in comparison to New Zealand constantly raise a novel feeling. It appears that any sense of knowing or gleaning somewhat of an understanding, will only be gained by spending significantly more time here. A combination of experiencing the situation on the ground, and discussions with the locals, reveal – very slowly – bit by bit of this unique place. Somehow, I’m not sure any foreigner ever comes to fully understand this complex and unreal country regardless of one’s ability to speak the language, or the length of time spent here.

Scouting the Trailforks app prior to my arrival in Iran, I could see there were a couple of trails on the fringes of the capital city, which is home to almost nine million people. There appeared to be a bit of a racing scene too and, after finding a few die-hard riders’ Instagram accounts, I could see their level of commitment to the sport was high. In any case, it wasn’t easy to find much media showcasing the riding, unlike what you might find spread across the internet for places such as New Zealand. Indeed, it was hard to gain any major insights into the extent of the sport, especially with regard to the trails, before arriving. I did, however, discover that the capital city was surrounded by very tall mountains and, equipped with this knowledge, my hopes of finding some decent riding were high.

The Alborz mountain range, spanning the vast width of Northern Iran and dividing the Caspian Sea in the north and the Iranian Plateau to the south, is where most of the mountain biking takes place. There is no shortage of terrain in this mountain range, with its highest peak at 5,600m. The scale of this range blocks any humid air from the Caspian Sea and divides the north facing mountains and lush forests of the far north from the rest of the country, which consists of heavily eroded mountains, arid landscapes, and desert like features.

There are two main types of riding around Tehran, the first consisting of a minimal amount of mellow single- track riding on the foothills of the main range; and the second being the burlier trails stretching high up into the Alborz mountains. The types of trails that stretch up into the main mountain range are typically hiking trails. Since mountain hiking and climbing are such popular weekend activities for Iranians, in all seasons, these trails can be found in many towns and villages throughout the Alborz. For me, the best riding around Tehran takes place primarily on hiking trails. These trails tend to be the cleanest to ride at the end of summer, when the snow has well and truly disappeared and the regular passing feet of hikers have cleaned the riding surface. Although, due to a combination of the rocky terrain, hot dry summers and freezing winters, the surface is constantly shifting on top of the dense bedrock below.

The trails I frequent for the usual mid-week laps are ones that have access roads to climb the steep mountainous terrain, but it’s still hard work even with the 51-11 cassette. This area, known as Darabad Mountain, is also frequented by downhill riders at the weekends and a few local riders living in the neighbourhood, during the week – although the typical mid-week rider doesn’t usually have the riding experience or equipment to tackle the rugged single tracks on the way back down.

Other longer or more adventurous rides don’t have access roads, unless riding up ski fields to reach far flung summits. But again, these are steep and start at altitudes as high as 2,800m – making riding there brutal on both the lungs and the legs. Generally, the longer rides always include a fair bit of hiking up steep, loose trails and are usually point-to-point rides rather than loops, which helps with choosing a safe line on the steeper sections that require caution during the descent. These types of rides are riskier as I am never sure what the quality of the trail will be like.

My estimates of what to expect are usually gained from Google Earth reconnaissance, made easy by the lack of tree growth which allows me to identify any marginal hiking trails I have big ideas to scale. Each time I find a new zone to explore, I can stretch the ride in any direction on successive visits. In the year to date, these experiences often result in a feeling of conquering new terrain and big mountains that few, if any, have ventured on by mountain bike. The combination of my riding experience and the latest innovations in mountain bike technology, take me to trails and mountains I never thought possible when I first started riding mountain bikes in 1998, on a 24-inch wheel hardtail, at the age of 11.

Since the locals tend to lap out the same riding spots, they don’t often possess extensive knowledge about the wider mountains or trails. Sometimes, I find myself introducing locals to new trails and new ways of riding their local mountains, however, when it comes to the lower slopes (for group riding sessions) their expertise is unrivalled. I’m not sure if this is due to their preference to lap downhill trails with their mates or if it is more of a forced choice due to the economic situation influencing the types of bikes they ride.

More hardcore enduro or all-mountain style riding isn’t a thing here, yet.

The people here find themselves in quite a remarkable situation, with rising political pressure on a government that has been under economic sanctions in some form or another since the revolution in 1979. In addition, the value of the Iranian Rial (IRR) is unstable, and there are high rates of inflation – with 45% reported for the year to date. This, combined with comparatively low salaries and wages, significantly reduces the peoples’ ability to travel outside of Iran and purchase international goods, such as mountain bikes. For example, having the opportunity to purchase late model mountain bikes comes at an exorbitant cost, due to trade restrictions, and this is without factoring in the price of such items when converted to IRR from Euros or USD. The middle class here finds itself anxiously cut out of participating in the world – but this in no way dampens their enthusiasm for the pursuit of adrenaline on the bikes they do have. For mountain bikers here, like the rest of us, the sport allows them a sense of escape and freedom in the pursuit of the divine adrenaline rush.

I commonly find myself riding in large groups of locals, where communication requires my very slowly evolving Farsi language skills as there are usually few English speakers present in the group. One thing in particular that stands out is the value of the shared experience of riding bikes. The multitude of differences between this place and my homeland, and myself and the local people, melt away when we share the ride together. The good times generated and shared by all, from the riding experience, demonstrate the overwhelming similarities among humans the world over, regardless of a given situation. In a country that is painted so differently to my own, the power of the bicycle as a vehicle for a shared experience that bonds people together, cannot be underestimated.

Words: Cam Cole
Photography: Ali Salsali

by nz mountain biker magazine

Feature: No Reservations

We all dream of riding trails straight out of our front door. The reality is, though, that’s a luxury few of us have, unless we’ve set our lives up in one of a few towns where it’s possible. For most of us, there’s either a ride on the road, or a car journey, before we can get our trail fix. Nowadays, however, the accessibility of car camping and campervan setups means it’s possibly to literally wake up and ride right from your front door. And, that front door could be in a new location every day – or even multiple places in one day.

Our home away from home rolled up the driveway; a shiny new VW California. The middle offering in the all-new California range, this campervan gives serious modern-day Kombi vibes. With an electro hydraulic pop-up roof and roof bed, plus a self-contained kitchen, there was ample room for us to sleep, eat and chill in between rides.

Bags in the back, bikes on the rack, a couple of espresso shots from the home machine and we were ready to roll. “Where are we off to then?” was the question. We’d made no real plan and with the van being our kitchen, sleeping quarters, chill zone and changing room we needed no reservations of any sort. We had a vague direction to head, and a time we needed to be home, but between then and now, the itinerary was pretty loose – actually, it was non-existent. As we headed towards our ‘loose’ destination of the Coromandel Peninsula, we knew our plan would take shape and unfold as it needed to.

After some discussion, we decided to head to the town of iconic thermal mineral spas and a big ass mountain: Te Aroha would be our first stop and we were there for a good time, not a long time. Having ridden the ‘Gum ta Native’ trail eight or so years ago, I was keen to go back and see if it had seen any updates. NZ’s endless summer was in full effect and within minutes of beginning our climb two things were obvious: one – we should have been at a beach somewhere, as it was too hot; and two – with an almost-clear blue sky, the sun was piercing through the bush canopy meaning capturing any good photos was going to near impossible, i.e. a MTB photographer’s worst nightmare. We continued our climb up, with intentions to get to the high point of the trail and descend back down the way we’d come. The trail seemed to be smoother than I remembered – maybe it had been cleared of rocks, maybe it had been mellowed due to the amount of traffic over the years, or maybe it was just because I was now aboard a 160mm travel 29er, not a 120mm travel 26” wheeled steed?

Two thirds of the way up the hill we decided it was a bust; the juice simply wasn’t worth the squeeze. Rigs turned 180, lockouts off and down we went. Descending was a blast: some fun, flowing turns, a couple of little bridge features, a few foot-out-flat-out moments, a couple of scarily tight trees, and suddenly we were back at the van, albeit a lot sweatier than when we left.

“What’s next?” “Ice-cream, surely?!”

“Yeah boi!”

A minute later were back in the centre of town choosing which Tip-Top flavour would hit the spot, then back in the van for some shade and chill time before we headed off. Maybe there are some hidden nuggets of trail hidden somewhere in the Domain Reserve (we know there is further up the hill outside of the domain, but our lips are sealed), and given more time to explore – or a local guide – we may have found some, but we would need more time to find that out. The trails have gone the way of the miners in the 1880’s, in that they have been somewhat forgotten about as time has marched on. I’m picking that, as Te Aroha is a small town, with an even smaller riding community, there’s a lack of interested parties to further develop what could be a MTB destination on par with some impressive small-town parks around the country. For now, though, it’s worth a quick stop if you’re passing through, if for nothing else other than an ice cream and a dip in the thermal baths.

Back on the road, we’d decided Whangamata could be the go – again, a spot I’d ridden a number of years ago. With rumours that some trails had been refreshed recently – but also of logging activity in the area – we weren’t quite sure what we were in for. Regardless, the stoke was high. With the trails off limits until 5pm, due to logging, we took a quick drive to check out where our coffee the following day could be found and hitthe supermarket for supplies. Much like our entire trip, we had no plan for food. Fortunately New World had a handful of recipe cards conveniently located by the door. Recipe cards in-hand, the three of us went separate ways, loading up and reconvening at the checkout with our dinner ingredients sorted.... although we still didn’t know quite where we’d be cooking it.

Arriving at ‘Fred’s Carpark’ we unhitched the bikes, checked the map board, ensured we didn’t get tangled up with the logging, and off we went. With limited time before sundown, we figured the best plan was to scope some spots, shoot what we could, hopefully bag a golden sunset shot or two, then return the following morning for more.

Trail names at the Whangamata Ridges MTB Park hark back to the surfing roots of the town, with many having surf related or marine-centric names: Pipeline; Over the Falls; and Aqualung, to name a few. Working our way up the hill, the light was looking a little better than Te Aroha, but photo-man-Cam was still not stoked. I was, though; I’d ridden here before but back then the trees were about as tall as I was, now they’re many times my height (and I haven’t grown at all!). With the tree cover comes better dirt; what was oncerain-rutted and dry-as-a-bone is now nicely packed, at times blue-groove, and on the day we rode, perfect!

The climb up was a cinch; a wide and well-graded trail wound its way to the upper slopes of Causeway Road, which dissects the core trails of the park. Unfortunately, the trails deeper in the park were off limits, so we concentrated our efforts on cutting quick laps up and down each side of Causeway Road. First pop was Tube Cruiser, a Grade 5 flow trail with some sweet jumps and berms, all pretty crisp! The curse of the dappled light was following us around again, so we shot back up Aqualung, this time to check out the view from near the highpoint of Causeway Road. As we climbed, the unsightly pile of logging/the view rolled out over the green of grown pine, across the town and out to sea; a stunning sight ignited by the late afternoon sun. Taking note of the situation, we knew we were on borrowed time and it would soon be sundown.

We hooked into Just Saying, a short n’ sweet number with the main feature being a nice floaty gap jump. With the sun just in the right spot, I got to work trying to make it look like I knew what I was doing on the bike, and Cam got his shutter finger working (it’s just point and shoot right?!). A few hits later and we were done. Popping onto the road, we headed up to No Bull for a gander at its infamous final feature: the rock-roll. Not highly technical, but not entirely straightforward, take the wrong line and you’re in for a rough ride. The rightline was just the right blend of steep and sketchy. “Guys, guys, guys – turn around and ride up that bit again!” You know something serious is going down when the photographer gets this excited. Liam and I did what we were told; riding and re-riding a few sections of climbing trail, unsure what all the fuss was about. Cam showed us some of the shots and we could finally see what it was all about! Like the miners who once explored these hills, we’d struck gold: photographic gold. The light was perfect, as was the scene; Liam and I did our job adequately, and that was a wrap.

Back at the van, we cracked a coldie and reflected on our day: the ground we’d covered, the challenges and the wins. It was dark, we had nowhere to be, but we were hungry, and we did need to find a spot to park up for the night. Fortunately, there are a number of freedom camps around Whangamata and its surrounding areas. We didn’t want just any camp spot, though, we needed the perfect spot.

After operating multiple phone apps, and seemingly an hour of driving around in circles (I did mention we had no plan), we found the ideal spot. Setting up the California for the night was super simple – it took no more than five minutes to get the roof (and extra bed) up with an auto switch. We got the awning out and flicked the driver and passenger seats around inside to give us a comfortable indoor space for the evening. This functionality ensures the California is the perfect base camp in any kind of weather! Mood lighting was the icing on the cake, giving our setup a homely ambiance. The best thing about the campervan is that – unlike camping – we knew we just had to put everything back in its place the next morning when we were ready to head off; no tent pegs to pull out or ground sheets to roll up and repack – that’s a huge win! The nostalgic vibes of this camper may make heads turn, but it’s the ultra-modern specs and features that really make it shine.

We’d be greeted with a perfect sunrise the following morning, and could dive in for a pre-breakfast swim, just a stone’s throw from where we’d sleep. Onemana Beach ticked all the boxes and we settled in. With instructions not to cook curry in the van, we figured some spicy Mexican would be fine, so got to work, recipe cards in hand. We literally solved all the world’s problems whilst eating our burritos and as the clock ticked into ‘tomorrow’ we slid the door shut and drifted off to sleep; the aroma of freshly cooked Mexican still hanging in the air.

The 6am wakeup came as rudely as you’d imagine after a scratch over five hours sleep. Blurry eyed we prepped ourselves for the sunrise; Cam started clicking, and Liam and I prepped the first round of coffee. This was what every morning should be: coffee and good yarns whilst watching the sunrise, followed by a swim (which doubled as a bath) and finishing with bagels and granola as the sun came up. The trails were shouting, so we rolled the awning in, dropped the pop-top, and set a course once again.

We fluffed around for 20 minutes trying to make the most of a bad situation; sessioning the bottom of Over the Falls as the curse of the dappled light once again killed our vibe. Hustling back to the van, we made a snap decision: head over the Kopu Hikuai’s and check out the trails behind Thames. But first, coffee.

Pulling into Thames, it was after lunch time, and we’d eaten all the van food. Walking past numerous secondhand stores – a couple complete with hand- scrawled posters touting numerous Covid-related conspiracy theories – we finally found a spot to eat. After a quick education from the waitstaff that our lunch of a Croque-monsieur meant ‘crispy gentleman’ (I’m still not sure that’s 100% accurate?!) we downed our iced coffees and were off to the trails.

Five minutes up the road, we rolled into the Moanataiari Mountain Bike Trails. One of the best things about the California is that it features 4MOTION AWD, meaning it can handle off-road driving to slightly more secluded spots – and secluded this was.

It was pretty obvious this was an old mining area with mining works visible right from the carpark, and signs warning not to stray from the tracks as mine shafts lurked in the bushes. We had no idea what to expect but armed with the Trailforks app, and a photo of the map at the trailhead, we stumbled around, finding our way. This is one of two key trail areas near Thames, the second a few kilometres out of town up the Kauaeranga Valley road. Given a little more time it would be easy to hit both areas, as well as the single 6km Karaka track, in half a day.

The Moanataiari Trails are accessed off a gravel road which, after a short climb, pops you out at a nice pump track – although why you’d venture this far up the hill with a pump track-suitable bike, I’ll never know. The ‘Hundred Acre Wood’ beginner trail winds its way around this pump track plateau, and a number of trails either drop onto, or begin their descent, from here. The park packs a lot of fun into a small number of trails. There are no big climbs or equally long descents, but there are a handful of flow trails with some super fun sections; pop this, gap that, rail that turn, charge the roots – that sort of stuff. The ‘Pit Fall’ trail has a nice drop at the end; an overhead-height gap over another section of trail. I’d not hit anything like this for a while and, after a couple of run ins, I plucked up the courage to hit it. Such is the beauty of a small-town trail centre – they’re able to build some of these more ‘risky’ features (much like the Whangamata rock-roll) which you wouldn’t find on a regular ‘legal’ trail at, say, Rotorua’s Whakarewarewa for example. I guess with less traffic there comes less opportunity for people to wreck themselves.

Rolling out of the trails and back to the van, we fist-bumped a successful session and loaded the van for our trip home. On the road for only 32 hours, and having no real plan or reservations to turn up for, we felt as though we’d been away for a long weekend – such is the vibe you get from being in close quarters with your travel companions the whole time. There’s no retreating to your room to doom-scroll the socials, or TV to demand your attention. The feeling of having flexibility to change plans at the drop of a hat, go wherever, stay wherever (within the local rules of course) and – if you’re lucky – waking up able to ride trails right from your front door, simply can’t be beaten.

Words: Lester Perry

Images: Cameron Mackenzie

by nz mountain biker magazine

Feature: Emma Bateup Into the Wild

Emma Bateup is always up for an adventure. In fact, if she’s not out on her bike completing a challenge she’s set for herself, she’s plotting and planning her next endeavour. Whether it’s Burbing, Everesting, or completing the Olympus Mons challenge, Emma never shies away from intrepid, unique adventures that take in the best this country has to offer.

Emma first got behind the handlebars at age three, beating her younger brother to the punch – he didn’t start riding until he was six. Despite that, Emma says her brother is one of the main reasons she is so into mountain biking now. Having parents who regularly took them into the great outdoors, meant both siblings progressed at riding from a young age. But, in her early high school years, Emma switched and started road racing. At the same time, her brother was getting into mountain biking in a big way and soon started dragging Emma out with him.

“On some of my first rides with him, aside from just family rides, he would just take me down a Grade 5 downhill track – so I think I just walked a lot of it! But it meant I was exposed to some pretty gnarly stuff, right from the start,” explains Emma.

That baptism by fire happened when she was just 16 and, over the past six years, Emma has channelled her competitive energy into a variety of different racing styles, with a focus on Enduro for a time.

“Now I just do a heap of random stuff!” Emma laughs. But she’s not joking – take one look at her Instagram account and you’ll see what she means: there’s bikepacking, solo missions, racing, multisport training and even some pre-pandemic overseas bike trips to make you feel extra envious of this intrepid adventurer.

In this industry, it can sometimes feel like the only people venturing out into the wild – particularly on their own – are men, so it’s somewhat refreshing to know that Emma is doing just that.

“I think sometimes women are just a bit more planned,” she explains. “There’s still women out doing really gnarly stuff and massive adventures, but I would say they tend to pre-plan it a lot better. Although, I definitely don’t! With the Olympus Mons, I decided I was going to do it on the Sunday evening, and I started it on the Wednesday. I was always planning on doing it at some stage but deciding to do it that week, when the weather was good, was a pretty last-minute decision.” Emma agrees that perhaps us women don’t shout about our achievements quite so loudly as our male counterparts, either. “I often find it hard when people ask me what I’ve been up to. I always just say ‘yeah, I’ve been riding my bike’ – it’s kind of hard to explain that I’ve just ridden the height of a mountain on Mars....”

Thankfully Emma doesn’t have to explain herself too much to her parents or old friends anymore – they are starting to understand her constant quest for adventure and are no longer surprised when she tells them she is off on her next ride, even if the route is somewhat obscure. “It’s been interesting this year because I’ve got a whole new friend group, from studying, and their reactions have been great!” Emma laughs. “They’re not overly outdoorsy, so what I do is even more foreign to them. Sometimes I just stay quiet because it’s almost harder to explain it.”

Emma says that although her adventures are hard for some to comprehend, to her they feel like ‘just another weekend’. When things start to feel too ‘normal’, Emma kicks it up a gear and starts planning something bigger or longer or more challenging – she’s constantly plotting and planning where the next adventure might take her. “There are some things I have been thinking about for a year or so, but then some things I might think of the week before and go ‘ok, cool, I’ll go and do that!’ I’m quite an impulsive person, so that keeps me excited,” explains Emma. “I like pushing the limits, I don’t like going and doing the same – or similar – thing twice. If I’ve done a 300km ride then I want to do a 400km ride and so on, until it gets out of hand and then I’m going into nights....”

Lack of sleep, and riding through the night, is not something Emma shies away from despite the fact she is almost always tackling these challenging rides on her own. During the Olympus Mons challenge she completed in November, Emma only slept for 10 of the 72 hours it took her to finish the ride. The fact she even completed the challenge puts her in a pretty unique position – only one other person has completed it in its entirety. The Olympus Mons was something Emma had been thinking about since March this year, waiting for the perfect weather and finding the ideal loop to ride. Completing the challenge completely off tar seal also makes Emma a unique participant in the Olympus Mons, as the only other person to do it completed it mostly off tar seal but with a few sections of tar seal as well. She even incorporated a little bit of singletrack into each day – you know, just in case the challenge wasn’t already tough enough!

Although Emma undertakes these challenges on her own, her friends are always only a phone call away and offer their support by charging lights, delivering food and even giving her bike a tune up after hours of riding. “Some of my friends even came and rode a few laps with me [on the Olympus Mons and Everest challenges] .... but no one wanted to come out and ride on the last day!” laughs Emma.

This summer, Emma will take on the ultimate self-supported challenge when she rides the Tour Te Waipounamu – a ‘warm up’ for GodZone, which she’ll be competing in a month or so later. “In a way it’s something that is really familiar to me, because I do a lot of riding, but I’ve never done anything quite like Tour Te Waipounamu before, so I feel really inexperienced,” says Emma. “It’ll be interesting. It’s a lot of sleep deprivation so....”

In terms of planning for 2022, Emma is focusing on Tour Te Waipounamu and GodZone, particularly over summer, but she’ll be looking for other adventures to tackle once she’s completed both of them. “There will be other races that pop up and while I’m doing adventures I’ll think of other things – like ways of linking up a whole heap of trails – and so I’ll do that over a week,” explains Emma. “I never used to have this need to constantly do things, but now I just like seeing how far I can push myself.”

Emma says it’s been interesting to see the progression and keep building on it. “With the long-distance side of things, it’s easy to get burnt out, but it’s not like you really peak,” explains Emma. “It’s just constantly building up. I might have a slow period but then I’ll build up again. I don’t have much fast speed anymore, which is a bit sad, but I can just keep going. Physically, I’ve got a lot of capabilities, but mentally – with the sleep – that’s the hardest thing. I know my body can do it, but I’ll be beating myself up thinking I’ve got another two days to go! It’s a work in progress.”

As well as her own self-imposed challenges, Emma has completed some of the better-known ones as well. Everesting, a Mount Cook challenge, Burbing and, of course, the aforementioned Olympus Mons. For the uninitiated, Everesting involves riding a hill – any hill the rider chooses – over and over again, in a single activity, until you’ve completed a distance equivalent to the height of Mt Everest. The Mount Cook and Olympus Mons challenges are the same concept, except riders complete the height of Mount Cook and Olympus Mons, which is the highest mountain on Mars. Yes, Mars – as in, the red planet.

These sorts of challenges – self-imposed or otherwise – require a certain level of resolve, and Emma will be the first to admit she has a ‘just keep going’ attitude, on or off the bike. “I don’t like quitting things,” says Emma. “With riding, this year, I’ve pulled out of one thing and that was because the weather got really bad and I was on a main road, and I probably would have been hit by a car. That was hard to do. I guess I do have a mentality of, when I’m in something, I’m fully there. I really beat myself up if I don’t finish something. I know if I don’t do it, I’ll regret it – and that keeps me going.”

Being ‘fully there’ sometimes means choosing between her beloved bike adventures and studying. Emma is a first-year nursing student and, while she loves studying, she admits she sometimes just wants to be outside, on her bike. “Riding has been my way of switching off and resetting my mind,” explains Emma. “I struggle to just not do anything – even sitting at home watching a movie, I get so bored! I definitely like to be busy but, that does make me tired. A rest for me is going to work. I work weekends in a bike shop, I just get to talk about bikes all day – which is awesome!”

Emma is full of encouragement for others who might want to take a step into the unknown and eventually try out a solo adventure or challenge for themselves. “To start with, find other people who are in the same boat – if you’re scared then it’s likely someone else will be too, so you can conquer something together. When I first started riding, me and another girl from school would go out together and try out these Grade 5 trails – and mostly walk down them. But it didn’t seem as hard because we would both be struggling and we’d both spend all weekend crashing! If you’ve both just crashed on the same corner, you can generally just have a good laugh about it, which makes it okay.”

And what about the times everything is not okay? Bearing in mind Emma is often out exploring on her own in remote places. “It makes me sound like a bit of a wimp.... But I’ll generally cry!” laughs Emma. “If I’m having a bit of a shit time – sometimes I’ll stop, sometimes I’ll just keep going – I’ll have a good cry and let it all out, then I’ll get going again. I’ll have a quick breakdown, then I’ll go, ‘harden up!’ and carry on. I didn’t cry during the Olympus Mons, though, so I was really proud of myself for that!” It’s hard to imagine Emma crying – she sounds like someone who permanently has a smile on her face! But, knowing she’s not immune to tears makes her even more of an inspiration.

So, how can we all be a bit more like Emma? How should we go about setting challenges for ourselves, packing up last minute and heading into the wild? “Throw yourself in the deep end,” Emma suggests. “It is scary at times, but you’ll always be stoked you did it.”

Words: Kerrie Morgan
Photography: Henry Jaine

by nz mountain biker magazine

Feature: Hanmer Springs - The Gold in them there Hills

Hanmer has the beauty and charm of an Idyllic Mountain Town - perhaps a little like what Queenstown may have felt like 50 years ago.

This has been a tough year for many, arguably those living in the Auckland region – and those stranded overseas trying to get home via the MIQ lottery – most of all. In the era of COVID-19 and lockdowns, exactly where you live has a dramatic effect on every part of your life. Those in Auckland have endured 100+ days of lockdown now, while those in the south have enjoyed relative freedom. Regardless, lots of us are looking forward to a summer break where we can truly recuperate. But where should you go to do that?

After spending a few days there recently, I would argue that Hanmer Springs, 130 km north-west of Christchurch and 65 km south-west of Kaikoura, might be worthy of serious consideration. In fact, recuperation is pretty much in Hanmer’s DNA.

The hot springs for which Hanmer is famous for, have long been used for the purposes of rest and restoration.

Leaving Hanmer, the trail up is tight singletrack, cut into the slope and, being in the mountains, you are climbing on a rocky shale surface the whole way. This surface means that trails stay in great condition for most of the year.

Since the early 1900’s, facilities were built around the hot pools and, over the years, these have variously been hospitals caring for sick and wounded soldiers, facilities for caring for women, as well as caring for those with alcohol or drug disorders. The theme has been the same throughout; hot pools, fresh air and sunlight, away from the hustle and bustle of larger centres, Hanmer was a place where you could come to rest and be restored. What’s more, the population is only 1120! Hey Auckland! Sound appealing yet?

Of course, rest and relaxation isn’t just about sitting round the pool – it’s about getting out and hitting some trails. When you drive into Hanmer, the first thing you notice is the lines of trees down the main street. It’s got the beauty and charm of an idyllic mountain town – perhaps a little like what Queenstown may have felt like 50 years ago. From town, you can look up and see Conical Hill and, as you look around, you see the broader outlines of the Hanmer range and Mount Isobel (1324m). It’s this combination of a small mountain town, with trails on your doorstep that makes Hanmer Springs so appealing.

We stayed at the iconic Hanmer Hotel, built in a Spanish Mission style and completed in 1932. It’s the perfect place to base yourself during a stay in Hanmer, and is an architectural icon in its own right, as well as being surrounded by beautiful grounds – perfect should some in your party want to leave you to ride while they enjoy the grounds, the pool, or a drink in the courtyard.

Once we were settled in, it was time to hit the trails. We were fortunate to have a guided tour of local trails by none other than Hanmer Springs’ local mountain biking ambassador, Anton Cooper. Anton is pretty much a household name now but, if you’re unfamiliar, he’s a New Zealand Olympic Team rider, regular on the World Cup XC circuit, and ended up with a stellar 8th overall at the end of the 2021 season. If that wasn’t enough, we were also joined by local legend Steve Halligan. Steve may be less of a household name if you haven’t delved into the ultra-endurance bikepacking scene yet, but Steve is one of these guys who will ride for 24hrs straight, sleep for an hour or two then crank out another 300km. To give you an example; despite mechanical setbacks, in 2019, he rode to 4th in the 4,418km Tour Divide (Banff to Mexico border) in 16 days and three hours! He’s a freak. But he’s also a hell of a nice guy. Between Anton and Steve, I was already feeling like this might be a weekend I wished I was on an e-bike to help level the playing field.

Once we had all checked in, there was still time for an afternoon ride. Heading out from our hotel, we were onto some gravel within five minutes and started ascending up the Clarence Valley Road; a good warm up and the fastest way to get to Tank Track, that gave us a decent reprieve from the climbing and conveniently led us on to Yankee Zephyr, and our real trail target, Tombstone.

Together, these form a great loop that is a real workout and gives intermediate to advanced riders some solid climbing. Leaving town, you are at about 340m above sea level, and at the high point on Tombstone you will have reached 680m. The trail up is tight singletrack, cut into the slope and, being in the mountains, you are climbing on a rocky shale surface the whole way. This surface means the trails stay in great condition for most of the year.

At the top of this I had a healthy sweat on and had felt like I’d done some decent work, but I’m pretty sure neither Anton or Steve’s heart rate got above 60.

From the top of Tombstone, it’s a tight and twisty downhill – hand-built single track at its finest, and you have to be on your game to make sure your handlebars don’t clip any trees and your wheels don’t veer off the edge. Within moments of dropping in off the Tombstone summit, and despite my best attempts to stay with him, Anton was gone – completely out of sight – and this was a pattern that would be repeated, over and over and over the next few days, making it abundantly clear why he is a professional rider and I.... am not.

The trails around Hanmer have an interesting way of quickly showing you exactly where your skill level is actually at and how confident you really are. There aren’t really jumps or drops that feature, instead what separates the pros from the noobs (as my Minecraft-gaming sons would refer to me as) were the long, tight, twisty downhills, shards of rock pointing out at the most awkward angles and the plenty of switchbacks that test your ability to judge entry speed, braking and overall technique.

As much as I was observing the trails and loving the terrain, I was also in awe of Anton’s ability to simply get round these tight corners that often felt like they had a loose covering of pea-metal sized rock sitting on the surface. He could truly hold uncanny speed through these, and time after time it was a case of one corner, two corners, out of sight. After Tombstone, we linked a few extra, fun flowing trails; Big Foot, Detox, and Red Rock to get back to town. Detox was a crowd favorite – a little wider than we had been riding with plenty of speed and flow to keep the smiles pinned.

On our second day, it was time for an expedition of sorts. Anton and Steve had been talking about a trail called Addiction – saying that it was one of their favorite trails of all time, and definitely worth the effort. Effort? If it’s an effort to these guys, would I even survive?

Addiction is a double black trail that’s a challenge not just to ride, but even to get to. One of the interesting things about Hanmer Springs is the 4WD roads that surround it. Jollies Pass Rd, and the Clarence Valley Road, are joined by Top House Road to form a bit of a classic backcountry 4WD loop that can be a fun addition to a trip. You could also use these to connect the St James cycle way back and ride all the way back into Hanmer.

We didn’t have time for that on this trip, but I would definitely like to do that another day. For today, it was riding from our hotel, up Jollies Pass Road till we got to around 850m elevation – that’s about 500m vertical with no reprieve and, as much as we loved the perfect blue sky weather we had for this trip, I would definitely recommend getting started earlier than we did because it was hot, hot, hot, grinding up Jollies Pass Rd with the sun beating down on us.

Eventually, we reached the turn off to Addiction and, after a gentle traverse, the trail seemed to literally tip downward. This is the point where you are either glad you’ve got a new set of brake pads in, or will be kicking yourself for not having them, because the next few kilometres are steep technical descending with no let up. With plenty of elevation to play with, the trail builders clearly saw no reason to eek it out, instead they decided a direct approach was the best way to get down. The start of the downhill is a solid 500m where the average gradient is consistently 35-40% down before you get a let up. Where you are used to trails having a natural ebb and flow of tech, steep, and then periodically flatter sections, Addiction just keeps on giving. There are one or two sections where the trail just stretches out almost beneath you, where it is just a straight line down – no corners, just narrow steep singletrack, with plenty of that awkward angled rock to rip a hole in your sidewall or elbow should you get off-line.

Anton, typically, was nowhere in sight. I imagined him back in the hot springs wondering what was keeping us all. OK, that’s not entirely true, Anton did stay with our group and we had a blast riding together but, despite my best efforts, I still had no chance of keeping anywhere near him. By the time we reached the bottom, I could see why this trail is called Addiction; the first hit is a rush, but I think every hit after that would be even more satisfying. Conveniently, Addiction leads straight on to Detox which extends the fun even further.

Stopping and taking a few photos along the way meant that, by the time we were down, we were all ready to hit the famous Hanmer Springs Thermal Pools. These are a major tourist drawcard for the region, and for good reason – they are pretty special. These aren’t your average council hot pools; they are more aquatic theme park than just hot pools. I lost count of how many pools there are – there are cascading pools, aqua therapy pools, sulphur pools, rock pools, private pools, as well as a big play pools for kids and two pretty fun waterslides that yes, for the sake of research, we spent quite a while testing. (FYI: current COVID-19 restrictions mean you need to book ahead of time, so make sure you phone ahead to avoid disappointment.)

Back to the riding, our final day was spent getting the photographic requirements we needed for the trip, so it was hitting a few spots we thought best described the feel of what it’s like to ride here. Everyone was keen for another lap up Tombstone and now that we were all getting in the flow, getting used to the trails and riding them for a second time just escalated the fun. While we chose some of the more techy trails, it’s not just all gnarly; there are plenty of family friendly tracks that are easily accessible, only a few minutes from town, that even the littlest of legs can access without having to load up all the bikes onto the car each time you want to ride.

It’s the easy proximity to the hills that make it so appealing and, if things keep going the way they are going, I am sure Hanmer will no doubt turn into a real destination mountain bike town. On this trip, we rode the Old Ghost Road the day before coming to Hanmer and it’s this relative nearness to lots of things that makes it worth adding in to your summer road trip plans.

Having never spent time in Hanmer Springs, I was blown away by what it had to offer. Trails are the new ‘gold rush’ when it comes to small South Island communities – and when it comes to Hanmer Springs, ‘there’s gold in them there hills’.

Words: Lance Pilbrow
Photography: Cameron Mackenzie

by nz mountain biker magazine