nz mountain biker magazine

If you missed part one of our Wanaka story, click here.

One of the things I was most excited for on our trip, was riding Bike Glendhu. While it didn’t make the 4:30am alarm any easier to get up to, within 15 minutes of being out of bed we were all piling into the van, bringing our time at Cardrona to an end. As we made our way down the mountain, I snacked on a Clif Bar and banana, and tried to focus on the fact that soon enough I’d be watching the most incredible sunrise from the peak of Glendhu - and not the fact that the clock had only just ticked 5am and I usually don’t leave the house ‘til at least 8. We were all feeling pretty groggy as we rolled up to Glendhu, but we were stoked that John Wilson, one of the founders of Glendhu and our guide for the morning, had offered to shuttle us to the top of the hill in time for sunrise – saving us a long pedal in the dark. It was here that we met Jessie of Lake Wanaka Tourism, who’d be joining us for the day.

Glendhu is Wanaka’s newest riding destination, opened in January 2020 after a couple of years of development. John McRae, whose family has owned and farmed Glendhu Station for three generations, wanted to create a more sustainable farming experience for his family’s future generations. He partnered with Wanaka local, John Wilson, to build Bike Glendhu on 1000 hectares of the Glendhu Station. The big picture goal was to create a bike park that’s self-sufficient, both in terms of how they generate resources like power, and in the sense of having a positive impact on the land the park is built upon. The base is rad, with an on-site mechanic, bike rentals and a café (more on the café later) all built on the same ethos of preserving the natural landscape, whilst providing an awesome ride experience.

We all piled our bikes onto the shuttle trailer and began the 15 minute drive up to the peak, and I was pretty excited. I’d seen photos of Glendhu and the view from the top looked insane during the day, so I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like at sunrise. I was dazing in and out of reality and a dreamy haze, when all of a sudden the UTV’s wheels started spinning. “I’ve never actually taken the buggy this far up the hill with this many people and the trailer – I was worried about this part!” John said. It was clear the buggy wouldn’t make it up with all of us in it, so before we dug ourselves into a hole we all jumped out, so John could have another go without the weight of five additional passengers. No issues - straight over the rise without a hassle. As we took our seats back, John realised that he still had one lower gear to shift into, so maybe we would’ve made it after all. As we approached the top of Glendhu our surroundings really opened up and whilst it was still pretty dark, little hints of golden-orange began to creep over the edge of the horizon and it was clear we’d picked the right morning to take on Glendhu.

It was still pretty icy as we unloaded our bikes at the top of Glendhu, but it wasn’t long before the sun crested the mountains and the hillside lit up. The South Island is a special place to be in autumn, and it was definitely putting on a show for us today. It warmed up instantly so, before we left John, we de-layered to save us cooking on the hillside. We then dropped into Upper Baywatch, an intermediate trail with plenty of features to hit if you wanna spice things up a little. As we flowed down the hill, we stopped to shoot a little rock garden midway down the trail. As Haimona and Callum set up their shots, Casey, Jessie and I hiked our bikes back up the hill to get a decent run in. As we dropped in, I couldn’t quite get my footing right and as I pumped up the face of a table, and blew my foot completely off the pedal, accidentally ending up seat-bouncing, moto-style. My back wheel went sky high, my other foot was blown off its pedal and I landed in a nose manual. I was dead sure I was about to go over the bars but, some way, somehow, my feet managed to find their rightful spots atop my pedals, right in time to take the corner before the rock garden. I made it out alive, but my rodeo show had blown our formation clean apart, so up we went again. Second time round, I killed it. We continued down the trail to our meeting spot with John, while the rest of the team continued down the hand-cut advanced trails, that are more natural single-track than most of the rest of the trails. I headed back down to base with John to talk about Glendhu and how it came to be. Time’s always tight on these trips, so you usually end up having to squeeze in a quick chat with the people who know the story best, while the rest of the team get to have a little fun. On the bright side, though, I got to sample Velo Café’s coffee- which is nothing short of top quality and was the pick-me-up I needed.

Caffeinated and ready to go, I headed back up to Jack’s Spot – about halfway up the hill - to reconnect with the team and take on Hare Time, Glendhu’s jump line. Casey took the lead and did what she does best: shredded and got super steezy, while the rest of us followed. The rad thing about Hare Time is that it’s entirely made up of tabletops that get bigger and bigger as you make your way down the trail. This means that once things get too big for you, you can roll them without fear of losing too much momentum and slowly ramp up your speed into jumps without having to worry about casing, should you not be going fast enough. The whole line flows so smoothly, and you can basically roll the whole trail brakeless; you ride it once and all you want to do is pedal back up the hill to take another run! Alas, we were all starving – by this point it was about 11:30am and we’d been up since 4:30am and none of us had eaten more than a Clif Bar, so we made the gentle pedal back to Velo Café to sample their food. As we racked our bikes, I was stoked I wasn’t spending this trip behind the camera, because while Jessie, Casey and I sat down to enjoy our meal, our content team had to capture it. They joined us pretty quickly and whilst we were all talking, I was 100% on autopilot, enjoying my food waaay too much to make any worthwhile contributions to our chat. After your ride at Glendhu, you’ve got to try the veggie Thai curry pie – it’s out of this world good and if I remember correctly, it’s what everyone in our group ordered.

Up to this point in the trip, I’d been mad-hyping-up the “log cabin” we were going to be staying in for the second half of the trip and, after lunch, we had a couple of hours to kill before we could check in. We left Glendhu and pulled up right by the lake to enjoy a midday beer, and I was starting to get a little nervous: “what if the house isn’t all I made it out to be?”. After a quick dip, and talking about how beautiful the South Island is for the hundredth time, we packed into the van once again and made our way about fifteen minutes out from Wanaka, to the log cabin we’d been booked into. We approached the gate, punched in the code and made our way down the drive as the biggest house - let alone log cabin! - I think I’ve ever been to, revealed itself. The River Ridge was built in Canada before being shipped to New Zealand to be re-constructed on the banks of the Clutha River. Some of the logs were easily a metre plus in diameter and, as we made our way inside still in our riding gear, all I could think about was how crazy it was that someone had this built as a holiday house, and how it was way too nice for a bunch of dirty mountain bikers. As we were shown around by our host, she mentioned that she’d come out a few days before our arrival to turn the heated floors on for us so that they’d be warm in time for our arrival. This was our chance to live like the 1% and we were going to make the most of it. We’d gone from an apartment - which was super nice and honestly way better than some of the sketchy hotels I’ve stayed in on these trips - to having two kitchens and our own bathrooms. We all packed in, showered and took our usual afternoon naps, then watched Tea & Biscuits (if you haven’t seen it – check it out) before heading back into town to B.Social for dinner.

I hadn’t checked out B.Social before, but as a craft beer drinker I was pretty excited to visit. I’ve homebrewed a couple of batches in my time, so I love getting to hang out at breweries and watch the magic happen – which is the case at B.Social, as nothing but glass panels separate the eatery from the B.Effect brewery. Since we’d had a big couple of days, I wasn’t sure I’d manage to stay awake the 15 minute drive home if I had a beer, so I stuck to kombucha with Casey, while Callum and Haimona sampled all that B.Effect had to offer. I flicked through the menu as I tried to decide on what I wanted to eat and, after we realised we all wanted to get everything on the menu, we ordered basically every starter to split between our group. I think bar starters are the best, but breweries always go just that little bit further and I feel like that was exactly the case at B.Social – make the portions a little bigger and they could easily be mains.

It was only 7pm, but we were all exhausted, so we called it quits after eating and headed back to the house. I finally had the beer I wanted with dinner, and it did exactly what I thought it would – knocked me out. I pretty much headed straight to bed and was stoked to have a bit of a sleep in the next day – a 7am wake up never sounded so good!

Words: Cam Baker

Images: Callum Wood

A biking trip to the Nepali Himalayas, with a race thrown in for good measure? Sounds like an adventure not to be missed! We had three weeks to explore, starting with the Yakru Enduro race – dubbed the highest enduro race in the world – followed by bikepacking part of the Annapurna circuit. It was a trip to explore a new part of the world, experience a completely different culture and do something a bit out of the norm.

Four-Wheel-Driving Into the Adventure: The road into the Manang region of the Annapurnas was completed in 2011 by the Nepalese army; connecting Manang to the lower valley by 13+plus hours of 4wd action, instead of the traditional seven day hike. The road has encroached on the beauty and isolation of the Marsyandi Gorge so loved by tourists, but no one can deny the benefits motorised transport brings to these mountain communities. Photo: Dane Cronin

Learning the art of Nepali Time: we quickly established there was little point in expecting to be anywhere at a certain time. We went with the tide, and some of our best cultural immersion was done waiting for the truck to be fixed or a guide to arrive. Here, we tested out the gym set of our young Nepalese host, on the roof of his teahouse. Photo: Ben Gibson

The typical view of a village in the Marsyandi Valley. Most buildings were multistorey, with unusual colour schemes and barely-straight beams. Roof tops often doubled as café terraces, giving 360 panoramic views of the surrounds. Picturesque and cosy, they were a welcome sight at the end of a day’s pedalling. Photo: Ben Gibson.

This lodge was home for the duration of the race - and was luxurious by Nepalese standards, with flush toilets and wild card hot showers. Behind the lodge is Annapurna III, towering another 4500m above us. By night, these peaks seemed even more enormous. It was pretty special to be able to relax, unwind and reflect in the evening below these beauties, with a cup of Masala tea or hot lemon in hand. Photo: Dane Cronin

Into the Race Stages: Hiking trails and donkey tracks became nduro stages for the day, borrowing ancient paths of transport through the mountains and valleys. Racing blind in foreign terrain felt very non-racey and was always a balance between grip and speed, as we came to terms with moon-like dry dust. Photo: Dane Cronin

The race stages took us through a cultural slideshow, through ruins, shrines, villages and monasteries. Racing here was a stark contrast to the lives, culture and religion of the Nepalese. I felt very privileged to be able to have the choice to ride my mountain bike through these places and wonder about the thousands of years of change these ruins have seen. Photo: Dane Cronin

Swapping out timing chips for front rolls, we left our newfound friends from the Yakru race and pedalled up-valley to begin the second part of the trip. We were blessed with sunny days pedalling amongst mountains, and without a race team to support us; we felt much closer to people and the place. We all embraced the change in pace as we enjoyed and appreciated the scenery, with nowhere to be but in the moment. Photo: Ben Gibson

Off, up and Away: This is what most of our hill climbing looked like. None of us had done anything at altitude before and it was a whole new experience and pace working with what our lungs and heart could pull out of the oxygen-thin air. We didn’t mind too much, it was all part of the trip and gave us plenty of opportunity to take in the scenery and surrounds. Photo: Ben Gibson

Risk vs Reward: We spotted a side trail on the map, offering an alternative route to the road to our lunch destination. It certainly was an alternative, coming across this landslip with a small path leading across it. Not wanting to turn back and lose the elevation we had already gained, there seemed little other option than to cross it – which was more challenging for some than others. The reward though? A morning of riding glorious single-track through the forest, without another soul in site. Photo: Ben Gibson

As hoped, we found some really sweet sections of single-track to ride. With the oxygen deprived climbing, the descents were all the more satisfying and had us savouring every turn, even with front rolls and loaded packs. Given more time, there would have been many more side trails and areas to explore with similar potential. Photo: Robin Pieper

Dodging Shrines on the Trail: There are many of these Buddhist outposts on-trail around Nepal, and it is Buddhist practice to only pass these on the left, so that the shrine is on your right. Doing so gives good karma to the traveller, as passing on the right conversely gives bad karma. Touching the shrine is only allowed with your right ‘clean’ hand, for the same reasons. Photo: Ben Gibson

The high point of our trip, Tilicho Lake. Sitting at 5000m it’s claimed as the highest lake in the world (unconfirmed). Either way, it felt like a great achievement and stunning to look around and see snow, rock and ice literally as far as the eye can see. In New Zealand, there is almost always a view of lowlands, but not here. Earlier in the season, it’s possible to pass from here over to Jomson, but not with the lowering temperatures this late in the season. To get to Tilicho we needed an early start to avoid the wind, and even in the late morning a bone-chilling ‘breeze’ had already started. Photo: Ben Gibson

Descending from Tilicho lake, as the trail stretches out in front of us along the scree. We shared the trail with regular donkey trains, locals and tourists alike, and the trail was deceptively steep and slow going. Luckily bikes made the descents much quicker and more fun, although some of the exposure and technical corners were met by either cheers or concerns from other travellers. Photo: Ben Gibson

On the way Home: Crossing the Marsyandi River over one of the many single span swing bridges, connecting villages on the true left of the river by foot only to the ‘main road’. In the background, Heaven’s Door rises above us, a single slab of rock, rising 1500 vertical metres from the river. The geological masterpiece serves as a natural barrier (or ‘door’) between the temperate lower gorge of the Marsyandi River, and the montane plateau we are on now. Photo: Ben Gibson

Bitter-sweet feeling arriving back in Besi Sahar, two weeks after we set out, with dusty bikes, empty legs and full hearts. After travelling through small villages among big mountains, it was a shock to the system to have busy streets and air thick with exhaust and oxygen. Photo: Ben Gibson

The last stop of our trip, visiting Boudhanath, a Buddhist Stupa. The largest Stupa in Nepal, it was a popular attraction for monks, worshippers and tourists alike. It really struck home the depth of religion in this country and the impact it has on shaping the culture and country. What an enriching experience to have cycled amongst the tallest peaks of the world and shared the culture and villages of the Nepalese. Photo: Ben Gibson

Words: Robin Pieper

Images: Dane Cronin, Ben Gibson & Robin Pieper