nz mountain biker magazine

Words: NZ Safety Council
Photography: Quite Nice Films & Cameron Mackenzie

Over recent years, MSC has created a suite of videos covering safety tips and how-to style content. Its latest, and first mountain biking video, is a new ride-through safety guide on the Old Ghost Road trail, and has been added to the suite of Tramping Safety video series. From the Milford Track to Canterbury’s Mt Somers Track, up to the Coromandel’s Kauaeranga Kauri Trail Pinnacles Walk, the series covers the country’s most popular tracks, where data revealed preventable safety incidents which could be reduced by a target video.

These videos highlight each track’s common risks and hazards, outlines key decision-making points, and offers guidance on walking times, essential clothing and gear items, important weather factors and other track-specific advice.

In 2021, the research behind this ongoing series won the ‘Insights Communication’ award at the 2021 Research Associations Effectiveness Awards. According to the research findings, 76% of people who watched the video said they would make changes to their plans because of it, and 90% of those people did. Furthermore, 95% said they learned something new, with 82% saying their knowledge of hazards along the track had improved; 85% said their overall understanding of the track had increased.

The Old Ghost Road video aims to help mountain bikers prepare for the epic West Coast backcountry trail. One of the esteemed Great Rides of New Zealand, the 85km-long Old Ghost Road is Aotearoa’s longest single-track backcountry trail, and one of the most incredible multi-day backcountry experiences in the country. The adventure takes riders and trampers back in time along a shared-use and long-forgotten goldminer’s road.

This impressive trail weaves through ancient forests and diverse, rugged alpine environments. The infamous West Coast weather – frequent heavy rain, strong winds, snow, and freezing temperatures, even in the height of summer – means the Old Ghost Road is a true adventure.

The video highlights the varied conditions mountain bikers can expect, covering important tips including how to pack a balanced bike, a suggested packing list, the common risks and hazards, and key decision-making points and pit stops.

MSC Chief Executive, Mike Daisley, said the new mountain biking video was the first of what MSC planned to deliver as part of a growing library of backcountry mountain biking video resources. To deliver the stunning cinematography and capture the essence of the trail required a new filming approach and very careful planning and preparation, he said.

“We’re incredibly excited to launch this video and support riders as they tackle what is a truly spectacular, but hazardous, backcountry adventure.” Mokihinui-Lyell Backcountry Trust chair, Phil Rossiter, said the new video significantly extends the tools and resources available to help users plan for their trip. The Trust was set up in 2008 by volunteers who wanted to bring the Old Ghost Road to life and now, having done just that, it acts as the entity that operates and maintains the trail. The Old Ghost Road, a Ngā Haerenga NZ Cycle Trail Great Ride, is a destination trail with many unique elements that draw in an average of more than 6500 riders and 5000 trampers each year. There is one key underlying theme that draws mountain bikers and trampers to the trail, Rossiter said. “It’s the rejuvenation of the soul and mind that comes with time immersed in nature and stunning landscapes, away from distractions and the noise of everyday life, and made all the better by the physical exertion required and the company the experience is shared with.”

“Video is a more powerful way of communicating information than just written text. The ability to combine important safety and preparation details with actual imagery from on the trail is a very helpful step forward. Combined with the professionalism and quality of the safety videos that the MSC produces, it wasn’t a difficult decision to get on board,” he said. Plan My Walk by MSC can help those planning to tackle the Old Ghost Road by providing weather forecasts, alerts, a gear list and then create a trip plan to share with a trusted contact. •

• The video can be found on NZ Mountain Safety Council YouTube and Plan My Walk. The video, other useful resources and hut booking info can be found at oldghostroad.org.nz

Words: Alex Stevens
Photography: Seb Schiek

The latest breakthrough is once again led by Bosch, who unleashed their new drive unit for the last race of the Enduro World Series (EWS-E) in Finale Ligure, Italy, in September. The results speak for themselves. The entire women’s podium of Florencia Espineira (Orbea Fox Enduro Team), Harriet Harnden (Trek Factory Racing), and Tracy Moseley (Trek), along with the winner of the men’s category, Adrien Dailly (Lapierre Zipp Collective), and half of the men’s top 10, were powered by the Bosch Performance Line CX Race Limited Edition.

Fair to say, Bosch are experienced players in the sport of eMTB racing. Bosch-powered bikes claimed more than 60 podium finishes in eMTB races around the world this season alone. In the EWS-E overall team competition, Orbea Fox Enduro Team took the win, with Miranda Factory Team in second and Pole Enduro Race Team in third, all running Bosch systems.

Bosch have been leading the field for over a decade, ever since one of the first eMTBs was equipped with their drive system, back in 2010. Since then, the company has consistently developed more products for eMTB riders. The Performance Line, CX, was the first eBike drive specifically designed for eMTB in 2014, and the 2018 eMTB mode continues to set the standard today.

So, what does the new CX Race Limited Edition bring to the table? The specially developed Race mode, uncompromised support and low weight are the key ingredients when it comes to setting new record times.

The Performance Line CX Race Limited Edition is an exclusive evolution of the Performance Line CX. The new Race mode offers direct support, with up to 400% of the rider’s own pedal power, compared to 340% in Turbo mode with the Performance Line CX motor. This means riders reach top speed faster, and can stay there for longer.

The Extended Boost of the eMTB mode has also had an upgrade, giving it even more grunt in Race mode and making it easier to tackle large boulders, roots or steps. Race mode can be adjusted in the eBike Flow app, where you can tweak the strength of support, dynamics, maximum speed and maximum torque.

At 2.75 kg, the new drive unit is the lightest drive in the entire Bosch portfolio. This reduces the weight of the bikes equipped with it and optimises the handling on demanding trails. But, with 85 Newton meters of torque, it still offers maximum power for acceleration out of tight corners, which can be a decisive competitive advantage. Even at cadences over 120 rpm, the powerful motor provides explosive support so aggressive that riding over long stages and fast sprints are possible.

The CX-R is designed for tough, technical routes, steep uphills and gnarly descents, which is exactly what the course looked like at the EWS-E in Finale Ligure. NZ’s Joe Nation, riding for Pole, got to experience it first-hand.

“It was great to be on the CX-R in Finale,” says Joe. “The first power stage was a steep uphill with some monster boulders which the extended power boost made light work of. As weight is a pretty big deal – in both bike and body – for eBike racing, saving over 100 grams is a big gain too.”

Joe, who made the switch to EWS-E just this season, finished 22nd in Finale and 12th in the overall season standings. Not a bad result considering he only got hold of his eBike three weeks out from the first race of the season and had a massive learning curve mastering the nuances of racing eBikes. He’s back in New Zealand for the summer and plans on returning to Europe next season, fitter and more competitive than ever. It’ll be exciting to see what he can do after a full off-season spent training with the CX-R.

“A lot of the competitors who weren’t using a Bosch motor were definitely curious about the update, especially as the current CX motor is already top of the line,” he says. The new drive unit requires some pretty precise skills to control the direct response and power of the Race mode. In Tracy Moseley’s words; “It is like taming a bit of a wild horse at times, but it’s just learning its characteristics, learning how to ride it, pre-empting some of it, making sure you’re in a good body position, making sure you’re riding aggressively, and then it’s awesome. If you’re a bit, sort of, resting on your laurels, out for a cruise, it can definitely take you for a ride.”

The Bosch Performance Line CX Race is currently only available to professional riders on Bosch powered brands, and as a limited edition on some eMTB models. Some CXR equipped bikes may well make it to our shores for a lucky few. So, while most of us won’t get to experience this game changing tech for ourselves (for a while) it’s going to be fascinating to see what it brings to the race scene and how riders like Tracy Moseley and Joe Nation use it to its potential in the future. This could change the nature of eMTB racing, from the trails ridden to the approach taken by riders.

Words: Jess Dickinson
Photography: Keenan DesPlanques

We picked a line and dodged our way down to our day one camp and a hot meal from Rocky, our gold-toothed cook. An altitude-induced throbbing head and uneasy stomach had come with me to camp, so I took myself away to sleep off the little voice inside that said I shouldn’t be up there.

The Little Idea

It ended with four women, one baby, a dog and a dead alpaca. Not exactly what we’d pictured as Claire and I piled ourselves, nervously laughing, onto a plane in New Zealand. Our plan was pretty simple: ride the best singletracks in South America; make friends; drink beer. A good plan. What we found was an ever-strong group of women, three days of backcountry free riding under the shadow of Mount Ausangate, in the Peruvian Andes, and a wee reminder that from little ideas, big things can grow. Mt Ausangate lured us in from day one. Wherever we went, there she was, our backdrop to Cusco, beguiling us into looking beyond our simple plan of just riding some trails. Whispers of the amazing scree fields, wild views and wonderfully lonely ridges were described. We had been messaging Nicole and her buddy Emily. Nicole runs Haku Expeditions, a bike tour company out of Cusco, specialising in taking people down fatigue-inducing, arm pumping singletracks for a living. Cusco singletracks are distinguished by their twenty- five kilometre stretches of uninterrupted downhill, occasionally broken by ancient Inca staircases or a few alpacas to dodge. This is where Nicole guides every day. The Ausangate fire was lit. Like a weird biking version of Tinder, we made plans to meet up for a ‘test ride’ to see if we all got along. In Peru, women who are of the mountains are called la cholitas. It was evident after our first ride together that our little idea had grown into us venturing up there and following the local cholitas who had walked before us. Nicole described our trip as a hike-a-bike without air. At a maximum of 4800m, pedalling in any direction was going to be hard. And this trip would have a lot of climbing. We had Emily, America’s collegial cross country, ST and omnium champion, to rally at the front; Claire, the ever- enthusiastic Scotswoman, to keep us in high spirits; and Nicole’s baby, Joachim, with his own nanny Iris who, as a local to the area was a mountain woman in her own right. We were also bringing Simon, a trail dog and, as we later discovered, an overly enthusiastic alpaca herder. Add a few pack horses and our mish mash of a team was formed.

The Big Traverse.
It was a 3am start from Cusco to our starting point, where we’d rendezvous with the horsemen and helpers we’d hired to help lug bikes. Late morning saw us starting along a rocky walking path, bouncing around rocks and alongside creeks, before the only path we would see for two days ended and the inevitable uphill loomed. Soon the rocks were too thick to ride through. We were already at 4200m when we started the climb. Our helpers, long-time friends of the mountain, grabbed our bikes and took off ahead. We took turns pushing Emily’s bike up, taking five minute turns. But, as we went up in altitude, it turned into counting out ten steps before the next person took over. Soon I was having trouble catching my breath and was reassigned the responsibility of carrying the camp soccer ball. Altitude requires patience. Patience to go slow and patience to breathe. Each pedal up tested that. Pulling up on the ridgeline on day one to see the valley unfold below us will be one of those completely happy moments I will cherish forever, mixed with undertones of queasy high-altitude breathlessness. We were so pleased to be living in that moment in time, despite the spattering of sleet. Our trail off the ridge was absent. It was straight down, pick-a-line freeriding through a boulder park. It plunged us into high alpine scree fields, needle sharp grass, steep descents and icy blue creeks, dotted with the occasional farmer’s hut. Day two began easily enough, riding a meandering alpaca path through a valley. Our route was set to a fairly easy pass up ahead. This was until Claire hatched the great idea that the ridge framing us to the left would make for great riding. So we climbed, first to the false horizon, and be one of those completely happy moments I will cherish forever, mixed with undertones of queasy high-altitude breathlessness. We were so pleased to be living in that moment in time, despite the spattering of sleet. Our trail off the ridge was absent. It was straight down, pick-a-line freeriding through a boulder park. It plunged us into high alpine scree fields, needle sharp grass, steep descents and icy blue creeks, dotted with the occasional farmer’s hut. Day two began easily enough, riding a meandering alpaca path through a valley. Our route was set to a fairly easy pass up ahead. This was until Claire hatched the great idea that the ridge framing us to the left would make for great riding. So we climbed, first to the false horizon, and finally reaching the highest point of 4800m. Claire was in her element. Emily bounced around taking product shots for various sponsors. I, however, lay behind a boulder trying to find my breath. From behind my boulder I remembered this had all evolved from a little idea about riding some bikes, yet here I was standing (or, at that point, lying) higher than I’d ever been, on an unbelievable mountain mission, with an amazing bunch of women. After photos were taken, hugs were given and moments of awe were experienced, we focused on riding the ridgeline. Riding the ridge was a great idea. But the mountain had piled itself with boulders. So, instead, we carried bikes along the ridge towards the pass. It was hard riding for the next few hours. With no trail to follow and boulders thick on the ground, a lapse in concentration ended in pedals colliding with rocks or a dead stop. Hours of rock hopping lead us down to the lip of a giant bowl, with rough tracks peeling off left and right to the lake and camp below. It was steep, technical, off camber and exposed. I was mildly terrified as I dropped over the lip. At the bottom of each steep section was a ridiculous switchback framed with cactus on one side and a cliff on the other. Ill-timed braking sent my back tyre sliding towards a drop off and I tensed knowing things were going to hurt. By some miracle I pushed out of it only to crash, amid cheers, on the next switchback. When we reached the end of the rock garden, we were welcomed with wide, steep, grassy fields to gleefully freeride down to camp, with Simon leading the way. This is where Simon, our trail dog, took centre stage. He was our fearless leader. Our mascot. Our guardian from all things hairy. But Simon had taken to chasing alpacas. Despite continuous scolding, Simon could not help himself and chased a group of less-than-timid alpacas. All twenty of them chased him back. Simon became somewhat less fearless and hid behind Nicole and her bike as the group of rather angry alpaca surrounded them both. The standoff lasted twenty minutes or so, with Simon whimpering behind Nicole. The rest of us watched from the ridge above, consoling Nicole on the radio but assuring her that nope, we were not coming down to help. Twenty minutes later, the alpacas, in synchrony, turned and walked away. We were almost at camp, incident free. But Simon again charged off into a group of alpacas that were grazing just away from camp. He chased one young alpaca into the rocks and the alpaca broke its leg. After a little discussion between the head herder and Nicole, an exchange of money and a large apology, the alpaca ended up on our dinner plates. A pachamanca, a tepee shaped BBQ furnace, was prepared by Rocky and a few of our horsemen. The whole camp was fed and, I’m sorry to say, alpaca is delicious. There is something so joyful about the simple act of riding a bike. Day three was that day. It was one of those sunshiney days that make you happy to put your smelly bike socks on for the third day in a row. Or maybe we were just giddy from breathing oxygenated air again. The ride out was framed by the lake we had camped along the night before and led us to a river crossing. Claire and I opted for the shoes off, cold but drama free, wading approach. Nicole and Emily, however, decided to use the bridge up ahead. A three-rickety-pipes-tied- together-to-make-a-bridge-above-a-rather-large-and- rocky-drop later and everyone was across and on the final stretch for the homecoming downhill flow. The trail guided us through farms that rested on the side of the valley and wound its way back to our pickup point.

Journey’s End.
In Inca lore, Mt Ausangate is an Apu, the mother mountain spirit; the source of all good things and a caretaker to her land. She looked after us. That night, we reminisced back in Cusco over beers and burgers. That little idea to ride bikes in South America seemed so far from where we’d ended up. Maybe it was the unending enthusiasm and desire to push ourselves that drove us up the mountain. Or maybe it was a simple falling into place with the right people. The mountain let us make our little ideas evolve into something more; that we could grow a team that pushed each other when we needed, supported when necessary and cheered each personal accomplishment with wild abandon. It allowed us to connect with women who identified as moms, pro bikers and wilful wanderers. Our mish mash group of girls had taken a little idea and grown it into our own mountain adventure. As simply as we had come together, we were about to disband. I talked about a wee rest on a nice low-altitude beach somewhere. That was until Nicole let it drop that Haku Expeditions had organised a riding trip with Brett Tippie the next week…. But, that’s another story.

Some would say XC is dead (they’re wrong) and others would say we’re seeing a worldwide XC Racing Resurgence. Word on the street is that livestream viewing figures for XC far surpass those of the downhill, and those tuning in are treated to action-packed racing across all categories at each round of the XC World Cup.

It’s been a long time since we’ve seen a Kiwi XC racer hit the World Cup scene with the impact of Sammie Maxwell. She first appeared on most casual fans’ radars at the beginning of the 2023 season, and they’ve seen her climb the ranks, race after race, to become the World Under 23 champion for 2023, and finish the World Cup Series in 3rd.

Anyone who has been immersed in the sport for the last few years, particularly here at home in NZ will know Sammie didn’t just burst onto the scene in 2023 but has been on this path for a few years. What has brought her to where she is now -a World Champion and a strong contender for an overall World Cup title? We were fortunate enough to dig a bit deeper into what makes this fun-loving, small-town girl with a huge grin tick!

Although not from a particularly sporty family, living in Taupo – just minutes from the lake – an active lifestyle is more or less a prerequisite. Although studious and high-achieving at school, early life was so much more than study and learning. The freedom and flexibility Sammie’s environment offered meant that netball, trampolining, running, Pilates, triathlon, football, swimming, cycling, rock climbing, horse riding and more, were regulars on her to-do list, although she was equally happy to lie in a hammock and read a book. Anything that required energy or had an aspect of competition and Sammie was sure to be front and centre!

“I stayed in Taupo throughout all my schooling and certainly consider myself a ‘small town’ girl. I would enjoy the odd trip to the Mount with my grandparents where we would go to malls, etc but after a few days, the traffic and the shops would all lose their ‘exciting’ factor, and I’d much rather have the quiet Taupo streets!”

It’s commonplace for high-performing female athletes to excel in most areas of their lives, and Sammie is no different, slotting right into this stereotype. Throughout the early years, her inquisitive mind and passion for learning were continually stimulated by her parents; both high performers in their fields -her father an engineer, and her mother a laboratory phlebotomist. For years, Christmas gifts included books about biology and physics. A consistent top performer in her academic group throughout college, Sammie was awarded DUX in her final year. “In year nine, when our biology teacher gave us an assignment on a disease, we could pick whichever we wanted, and just research about it. I chose chickenpox because I had recently had Shingles (both caused by the varicella-zoster virus -Ed.). Being my typical curious self, instead of just reading a few lines of Wikipedia and calling it a day, when I got home from school that afternoon, I went straight to our massive bookshelf and got the five biggest medical textbooks mum had used while doing her study. I read everything I could about the virus, the immune system, the physiology of the disease and treatments. I became obsessed with the amazing ability of the immune system and knew from that moment on that I wanted to work with biomedical science.

“It’s fair to say that my teacher also agreed when the feedback for my report read something like: “Sammie, I asked for a college assignment, not something that looks like an abstract out of a university thesis”.

Sammie’s competitive nature spurred her toward mountain biking. “My brother and dad would go riding and I guess I wanted to be like them and join their adventures. I loved being ‘tough’ with the boys. When I was young, I would always be throwing myself into things my brother was doing – to try to impress him I guess. My dad would always buy us a McDonald’s ice cream after riding, and who was going to turn down a bribe like that!”

Alongside MTB rides with her family, Sammie picked up triathlon, meaning time spent road cycling. But she knew MTB was really where her heart was, even in those early years. “I love both types of riding and the road and MTB community in Taupo is so amazing, I really am lucky to have been involved in both; however, I always knew that when it came to racing, MTB was what I was best at and what I wanted to do.”

Sammie’s enthusiasm for all things biomedical science, and keenness for mathematics, led her to study a Bachelor of Biomedical Science, moving to Wellington to study at Victoria University. She graduated in 2022 with a Bachelor of Biomedical Science Majoring in Molecular Pathology.

While training her intellect at university, Sammie was finetuning her racing craft on the bike, building the engine that has since lead to her success. Balancing a demanding study schedule with a strict training regime is a tough challenge and many an athlete has cracked under the pressure. Sammy powered through and, after graduating, began working in a research lab specialising in mRNA therapies and neurological disease research. She has a bit of a Clark Kent vs Superman vibe; outside of work life revolves around her training, but a quick change of costume, donning a lab coat, and she’s all business. “I have had my fair share of 5am wake-ups for training, and working until 8pm to fit everything in,” explains Sammie.

“I am lucky to have a great group of supportive people around me who can identify when I’m running low on energy (sometimes running on cortisol alone!) and remind me to take a break -often meaning dialling back the training a bit until the energy catches up. It’s hard work and definitely not something I could do all year around, but in the few months before heading for Europe, it’s nice to do one last push of mahi to remind myself how tough the ‘real world’ can be before jetting off to frolic around Europe for summer with my bike. It makes me very grateful when I am in Europe, and has taught me some intense work ethic which I pride myself on. In Europe when I have a big training day, I always remind myself I still have it easy – I could be in NZ doing that ride in the cold rain, in the pitch black at 6am – giving me an energy boost and making getting out the door a bit easier.”

All the hard work is now reaping rewards, but it’s been a long journey. Sam Thompson has been working with Sammie for five years, since pre-Covid times – first through the CyclingNZ Performance Hub but, after its demise, through the NZ MTB Academy. “We saw riders like Sammie prosper and develop exceptionally well under the MTB Performance Hub programme. When that was shut down there was a real gap in the development support network that needed to be filled. The NZ MTB Academy makes it possible to provide these athletes with professional support (coaching, sport science, strength and conditioning), professional guidance and also some financial support, to help bridge the gap from amateur to professional, and then also support them when they reach that professional space as well.”

In 2019, Sammie attended her first World Champs, in the Junior category, gaining useful experience and finishing in 14th. With racing on pause through the Covid period, Sammie used her time to address some issues which were hampering her success. “I have struggled with under-fuelling for a long time and spent a lot of time during Covid working with an Eating Disorder specialist, and psychologists, to get on top of this. So this year (‘23), when I showed up to Europe, I had a lot more maturity and was ready to start racing and recovering like a pro, to get through the season without fading.”

It wasn’t until 2022 that we saw Sammie start to settle into her groove on the world stage; the hard work of the previous years starting to pay off. It’s obvious from her results at the two world cups she raced in 2022 that her build to the top began back then, and was only exacerbated heading towards the 2023 season thanks to her methodical training and self-belief.

Coach Sam commented; “What stands out from others is her ability and belief to never give up, and her consistency of training. I would have trouble finding a session in the last five years that Sammie simply hasn’t done because she’s put it off. She simply doesn’t miss a session.”

Trusting the process appears to be one of the keys to Sammie’s progress. The 2023 season has shown a consistent build right from back in May at the World Cup opener in Nove Mesto where she finished 8th.

“It was always the plan to not hit the season at peak form – especially since this is my first full season, and we didn’t know how my body would react. So we decided to start a bit slower and use the first few WC races as ‘form builders’ to introduce the intensity needed for racing. It was part of the plan to let the form physically improve through the season – but I think the biggest change was just gaining confidence in my ability and working my way through the starting grid.”

Following Nove Mesto, a month later, the World Cup circus headed to Lenzerheide, Switzerland. A confidence-building 6th place for Sammie and a solid build towards Leogang where we’d see a major breakout performance, with a 2nd place in the XCO after a tough Short Track (XCC) race to open the weekend. Two weeks later things were beginning to click in the XCC and Sammie crossed the line in 4th, the perfect primer for the XCO three days later. Another strong ride and into second at the XCO at Val Di Sole. Confidence, experience and physical form were all coming to a head just in time to peak for her season goal: the World Championships in Glentress, Scotland Then, on the 12th of August, Samara Maxwell became U23 Women XCO World Champion! After a dominant ride, distancing the field on the first climb, she eventually crossed the line draped in a New Zealand flag, having made history; the first Kiwi woman to win a Cross-Country world championship.

“In the days leading up to Worlds we had made a minor suspension change, but everything else was pretty much the same. I think just steady training for a few weeks with some good days over the local ‘cols’ and riding with Ben Oliver helped a lot; I accumulated stress on the bike but Sam (coach) and I were also watching closely because we knew the worst thing we could do would be to accumulate too much fatigue and dig myself into a hole before the event which can easily happen during pinnacle points in the season.

“I was lucky also to have the help of Louis Hamilton in Scotland; he showed me the best lines to take on the course and, as a privateer, this is something I don’t have access to at World Cups, so I owe a lot of my success on the day to him!” Sammie now had the spotlight firmly on her as she steamrolled into the remainder of the season. Heads were turned and everyone wanted some time with the “fresh face” in the pits, who they’d seen grow and develop quickly through the early season. Her secret was out and she thrived on meeting and chatting with so many new people who were discovering this fun- loving, Kiwi world champion for the first time.

“The people are amazing, and the sport is growing so much -it’s awesome! Changes to broadcasting this year allow people back home to watch my races and that’s helped increase the number of people following the sport and created a very exciting atmosphere at events. The girls I race with are amazing and I’ve met some amazing friends this year -I am just so excited to watch this sport develop over the next few years!”

Prime conditions and a strong race in the XCC rewarded her with second place at the opener in Pal Arinsal, Andorra. Sammie’s first outing in the XCO World Champs stripes would come a couple of days later, and in the toughest conditions of the season so far. The venue was hit with storms in the hours leading up to racing, forcing schedule changes (meaning no live feed) and leaving the course sodden and slippery. The form was there but conditions -and the venue being at over 2000m elevation –meant Sammie couldn’t unleash what was required to be back on top, finishing a credible 4th place.

Les Gets was next on the calendar and another dominant display in the XCO where she effectively put her competition to the sword on each climb, putting the group under pressure every time the gradient tipped up. After multiple lead changes throughout the race, Sammie finally made it stick on lap three, taking the lead once and for all, and maintaining a 30-second lead. It wasn’t all said and done, however, and she narrowly avoided catastrophe; crashing on a grassy off-cambered corner in the closing minutes of the race. Fortunately, her gap to second place was enough, and she limited her losses to cross the line with a stellar dance move finish line celebration and take her first World Cup win!

Never one to completely relax, Sammie has taken up learning French this season to keep her mind busy between racing and training. In years to come she’ll be getting plenty of French language practice, after a mid-September signing to high profile, French-based team, Rockrider Ford for the remaining 2023 races, and through until 2026.

“It’s been a dream ever since I can remember to be a professional cyclist. I’m beyond honoured to say, that thanks to Rockrider Ford Racing Team, this dream is finally a reality. I already feel so at home in this team and have had the biggest, warmest welcome. It only makes me more excited to see what we can achieve in the future together.”

With all of the downsides of being a privateer now being taken care of, Sammie can focus solely on being a professional athlete, no longer stressing about having no income while racing across the world. With the mental load of finances and logistics now removed, preparations for next season are already underway. One of Sammie’s goals is to improve her technical descending, an area where she and her coach identified she’s been losing time to her competitors.

Sammie came out swinging at the debut race for her new team in Snowshoe, West Virginia for the XCC World Cup Round 7. Another solid race battling Ronja Blöchlinger for the win but narrowly missing out, finishing second. Snowshoe’s XCO race shaped up to be another epic battle with Blöchlinger, but this time it was Sammie who came out on top. It almost wasn’t to be though, and she narrowly avoided a huge crash on the opening lap, washing the front wheel out on greasy rocks and colliding with a tree, fortunately she stayed upright. Sammie put in a cracking ride, regaining her composure to go blow for blow with Blöchlinger in the early laps. Sammie continually pulled time on the climbs, and by the mid-point of the race had taken lead for the final time, growing the gap for the remaining laps to take the win by a minute, marking a perfect start with her new team.

Next up was a trip across the border to Mont-Sainte-Anne, Quebec, for the eighth and final race of the 2023 season. Blöchlinger rounded off her perfect XCC season with her eighth win, just pipping Sammie for the win again, and collecting valuable overall series points. The XCO race saw the toughest conditions of the season; rain had set in, making the technical course even more technical for even the most skilled riders, leaving them battling not only each other, but the conditions and course as well. At times, the race looked more like a duathlon than an XCO with most riders taking to running sections at times. Thanks in part to Stephan Tempier’s line coaching, Sammie rode the technical sections confidently.

“I was able to ride everything in the wet, even really tough sections that the elite were crashing on, so that was a huge positive. It meant I felt safe and confident and was able to have sooo much fun slipping and sliding my way past people!” Proving her mental resilience after a start loop flat tyre; she chipped away at the field for the entirety of the race, eventually finishing fifth, securing herself third place in the overall series and cementing herself as one of the world’s top XC riders. When asked about any wisdom she wished she had known earlier in her career, and what tips she’d pass on to other young women looking to break into the World Cup circuit, Sammy offered some clear advice:

“Never feel like you’ve got to make sacrifices or suffer unhealthily to succeed. In our heads, we often think elite athletes are insane people who have super-human abilities to suffer, and when it comes to physical training yes, they do suffer, but when it comes to their mentality, the top-of-the-top athletes protect their mental health above all else, and this is something that’s taken me a while to figure out. If our brain is unhappy or starved of the joy and energy it needs, we will never be able to perform at our true potential. So always make sure you are looking after your body and giving yourself the rest you deserve! Plus, eat the damn dessert! I spent too long turning down yummy foods because I thought it was what a real athlete would do – when in reality, ice cream is your superpower! “What it takes to win should be sustainable and enjoyable. You need to believe in yourself, and you can’t do that if you keep feeling like you are having to change the way you function or change what you want to do to succeed. It should come naturally. I can say I wasn’t acting any different for my lead into Scotland than I was during the middle of winter last year in NZ – once again it’s just a matter of trusting the process, loving what you do and enjoying yourself while you put in the work!”

No one gets to the top alone, and it takes a village to support an athlete as they work their way there. Sammie wanted to pass on a special thanks to all who’ve helped and supported her in this journey so far.

We’re excited to watch her develop and see where Sammie’s career takes her as she steps into Elite for the 2024 season. One thing’s for certain: that grin of hers will be showing up in race coverage for many years to come!

Words & Images Jake Hood

Our day started early. We packed up all our stuff, and left behind the items We didn’t need to take up royal. then we set off. the morning started With a tiny bit of technical sWitchback trail, then an off-the-bike hike down a cliff to the riverbed below. the dirt Was a lot drier than the day before, Which Was a good thing because it seemed like the day was going to be technical.

We hit the riverbed, crossed a small stream, and reached the start of the Mt Royal walking track. To begin with, it was a bike-on-your-back approach -we were literally climbing up a cliff face with our bikes. The rock we walked on was covered with moss, and we had to think about where we were walking and where our next step would land us. Once we got past that point, it was just a pretty steep, relentless push for about an hour before it mellowed out. It was one of those hills that is steeper towards the bottom and mellows the further you go up. The soil changed as well. It was pretty clay-like at the bottom, very slippery in the wet. The further up we got, the less present the clay was in the soil, giving it a more predictable nature. The foliage and cornflakes (some might say ‘loam’) that covered the trail seemed to get thicker as we gained more altitude. You could tell this trail wasn’t used that often; it wasn’t a worn-in, obvious track like many of the others in the area. There were a few times we lost the track on the way up. The trees were spaced pretty far apart, leaving heaps of space to hold it wide open on the way down. The trail wiggled its way up the mountain, covered in a spiderweb of root gardens. Some of them had huge roots that created large steps to get over, potentially causing a wheel stopper or going over the bars. I later found out this was the case.

Near the top, we stopped for a spot of lunch. I think we’d have been pushing up for about three hours or so by that point. It was pretty hard going. We stopped at a beautiful little opening in the trees that gave us a great view of the Richmond range. Mt Fishtail lay just before us. What a mountain that was. Lunch chat consisted of more talking shit about Bradshaw almost bailing and how good the DB Draught was going to be at the pub that evening. You could see the top of Royal from the spot. We had to descend along a ridge for a little bit before the final push up into the rocky alpine. It was going to be about an hour to the top.

No one wanted to descend the ridge first; it was pretty damn steep -and none of us knew how slippery it was going to be. The track sort of just disappeared, and it was a bit of a pick-your-way-down, trying to find places where you could get some good braking in. Turns out that going first was probably the best option, though. The locked rear wheel scraped off all the good foliage to brake on, and left behind slick black sludge. If you locked the front brake on this, you would know about it – but it was fun to pick our way down.

As we pushed up the last stretch, the trees started to thin out and the trail was more defined from here through the rock and scrub -nature hadn’t taken back the track like lower down. It was a bike-on-the-back hike up through the loose big rocks and some nice big bits of slab which made up the trail. My legs were starting to feel numb and heavy on the very last bit of the push; that pre-bonk feeling. Thank God the top was close. As we rounded the final bit of the mountain to the summit, the wind started to howl. It was strong, and our bikes acted like sails in it. The last stretch was a small walk along the flat to the top. Woohoo! We had made it to the summit of Mt Royal.

It was a clear day, and you could see for miles. There was a blue haze over all the hills. To the west, Mt Fishtail basked in the sun above the rest of the Richmond Range. To the east, you could see Blenheim, the Cook Strait, and the very faint outline of the Wellington coastline. The 360-degree views were stunning and the endorphins were kicking in – that high you get from reaching a summit. High-fives and hugs were thrown about, with smiles all around. These are the moments we do this for. Well, that and the fact we had a flipping awesome descent back down to the hut ahead of us. The howling wind was pretty chilly, so we chucked on some layers and found shelter just off the top, behind some rocks, to enjoy the view for a bit before we headed back down. You have to savor these things.

It wasn’t long, though, before the chat ended up being about cold frothy beers and food at the pub later on. How good were those beers going to be? This thought quickly prompted us to get back on our bikes and start heading down. Off the top, you have to ride along the flat, leaning your bike into the side wind until you start tipping into the trail. Paul, Scotty, and Cappleman were keen beans and started attacking the rocky shale alpine. Big long rock slabs covered in wheel-sized cracks, with drops off them into foot-sized loose rocks that moved below your wheels, made up the track. There were a couple of switch-back turns which made it even more fun. The sound of the terrain moving below your wheels while your bike danced through the chunder was delightful. Bradshaw was making light work of it on his hardtail, with a massive smile on his face. As the vegetation started to appear, the surface became more gravel-like, and the trail became more defined. Scotty, Paul, and Cappleman were off on a mission. The trail flowed along the ridgeline, turning left and right through the scrub. It had small undulations that you could use to pump or pop off. The surface was soft and gravel-like with some rocks and cornflakes mixed in. My bike felt amazing -the suspension was just fluttering along through this stuff, tires were hooking up a treat as I weighted the bike into the turns. You could feel the side knobs carving into the loose ground.

As the Beech forest thickened, the trail started to steepen. We stopped at this steep roll feature that we had looked at on the way up. It looked like a goer, and the way around looked pretty ugly. It was just a matter of if we would be able to stop after. How much speed would you pick up off of it? Would you be able to slow down before the turn into the next shoot? Paul tipped in first and greased it, making it look easier than it should have been. From there, we all hit it. It was a fun feature. In the dry, you could have hussed off it.

The trail eventually led to the point where we had to get off and hike back up to the lunch spot. From there, it was all downhill back to the river. What a time to be alive. The trail followed the ridge along for quite a while; not super steep, just enough of a gradient to keep the speed up without pedaling. The faint trail flows through Beech forest and is covered in deep, mossy foliage. The occasional fallen tree covered the track, but some logs had been placed in front of them, turning them into a feature to huck off. We whistled our way along the ridge, freeride flicks happening everywhere, foliage and sticks flying from the tires into the air. The bikes danced over the slippery roots and rocks that lay beneath. The trail would go from flat out to a few slower speed turns and back to flat out. There were whoops and hollers coming from everyone.

One ridge led to another, and things started to steepen up. Just off the ridge was where the trail took us. It was steep, covered in deep leaves. The trees were sparse, and turns in the trail were long and sweeping. This was my favorite bit of the trail. The dirt was super slick under the leaves, and you could drift around the turns with your foot off; opposite locking on the way in and letting the back wheel slide out on the way out. Just left, right, left, right. It was amazing. So much fun. I just could not wipe the smile off my face.

After that bit of speedway fun, the trail popped back out on the ridgeline. You then work your way through a long section of janky rocks, which meant travelling at a slower speed than what we had ridden so far. Thinking about lines was key: be precise. Momentum did help, but going at it full attack wasn’t going to end well. Personally, I love this stuff. It’s a challenge to ride. It takes skills, balance, and confidence to get you through.

After that bit of tech, you come off the ridge and back onto the face of the hill. It was a bit of a choose-your-own adventure at times since the track just disappeared at points. We were just pointing our bikes down the hill and following our noses till we found the trail again. Fallen sticks cracked and snapped under our wheels – it was a lot of fun. The further down the trail we got, the more technical it got, and the speed started to reduce. The huge wheel-trapping roots started to come out. You had to be on your game; think about your line, commit, and hold momentum through these. One of these wheel-trapping root sections caught me and sent me out the front door. Luckily, I was okay and landed in the soft foliage.

The steepest part was the last – and potentially the sketchiest – bit of trail. It got really steep, with huge steps into compressions. The dirt was clay, so grip was at an all-time minimum. We rode some of this, but the compressions were hard on the body, and you really had to find a flat platform to come to a stop to control your speed. The green, mossy clay dirt was doing its best to help the tire slip and slide. The bottom was so close, and you could see the riverbed…. and also the cliff you would ride off if it all went wrong. Sensibly, at this point, we decided to get off and hike down the last part. It just wasn’t worth the risk. I even managed to slip just pushing down, which resulted in my falling on my bike and bending the derailleur hanger. Shit. It wasn’t good. It looked fairly bent, but I would have to assess it back at the hut.

We scrambled down the last bit of cliff/trail to the riverbed. Fuck yeah. Royal was done. What a trail that was. Different from everything else I have ridden so far in the Richmond Range. It just had so much variety. It was wide and fast with some tech features mixed in, and less scary to ride than Fishtail or Riley. God, it’s amazing what you can do on modern mountain bikes these days. Bradshaw was the man of the match on his hardtail. What a guy.

The day wasn’t over, though. We had to get back up to the hut, pack up and load up the bikes, then get out to the Canvastown pub. There were still a few hours of hard work ahead. We crossed back over the small river and scrambled our way back up the basically-a-cliff-face to camp.

“I’m glad you bullied me into coming up. That was fricking epic,” Bradshaw jokingly said. It really was. Back at the hut, we loaded up the bikes. Well, Scotty, Paul, Cappleman, and I did. Bradshaw instead decided that he was going to completely unpack everything and repack it all again, which might not sound funny but, when he’s doing it in his underwear (for some reason), flailing around like a wobbler in the long grass, which was very bee and wasp-populated, it made for some very entertaining watching. Especially every time he got stung. We were in stitches. “What are you doing?!” we yelled at him. After about 15 minutes, we got bored and headed off onto the trail out, as we didn’t want to get stung. It must have been another 15 or 20 minutes before Bradshaw joined us. Wobbler of the Week, right there.

Seven kilometres of trail lay ahead of us, back to Butcher Flat campground, then a 15km ride to the pub at Canvastown. By this point, we were all pretty tired and over it. The inevitable come down from the high was happening, and the next part was going to be a bit of a chore. It’s funny how many emotions you go through on these big days. As we headed back out on the trail, I could feel that my legs were pretty weak. The hiking up had taken it out of them. I had to walk the steep pinches in the trail as the bent hanger had taken away the ability to use the top gear. Amazingly, the rest of the gears were fine. I was going to have enough to get me back to Picton. The SRAM AXS is pretty damn great. I just got my head down and pushed through. It wasn’t a super fun trail to ride out, more of a means of getting somewhere but, after about an hour, we arrived at the road back to Canvastown. The pumps got wiped out. Tires inflated to near maximum PSI for extra rolling speed. Time to grind this road out.

Something must have come over Paul and Cappleman because they decided to set off at a blistering pace, leaving the rest of us behind. I had my headphones in, listening to a podcast, and sort of just hit the road at my own pace, spinning up the climbs and pushing a bigger gear on the flats. Scott and Bradshaw were a little ways behind on the road. I think their legs were dead. I just got my head down, zoned into the podcast, and spun away. I made sure to enjoy the place I was in. This valley reminded me of my home back in Scotland; very green, lots of farmland, and pine tree forests. Having ridden the road the day before, there were certain landmarks I recognised, giving me an idea of how far to go. Boy, I was excited for a beer at the pub after this big day. As I passed Bradshaw’s grandparent’s hut, I knew it wasn’t far – just 2km or so. By this point, Scotty and Bradshaw had caught me up, and we got in a chain gang. A second wind must have hit us because we started hitting it hard. The pace increase was insane. The pub wasn’t far away; it was in sight, like a glowing beacon of happiness.

The bikes got parked up. Paul and Cappleman had found a good seat and were already on the beers. DB Draught was the only real choice. Now, I’m a bit of a beer snob, but there is something great about a cold DB Draught after a big day. I think it’s just made even better by the fact you’re drinking it in this old, rural pub. The pub had recently been taken over by new owners, and the place was pumping with regulars. It had a very homely feeling. Somewhere you could just settle in for a big shift, and that’s exactly what Paul was doing. The man was putting them away like they were water. By the time I’d finished one, he would have done two. It was a bloody great drop though; refreshing, crisp, just perfect. We settled in and reminisced about the day. It had been so great -awesome crew, amazing trail, and just the perfect amount of struggling. How good.

After a few more pints and an amazing dinner at the pub, the beer buzz of bad decisions kicked in, resulting in us getting a box to drink back at the hut that night. As it was starting to get dark, we hit the road back to the digs in good spirits. Back there, the box opened, and we continued into the night, with Bradshaw providing the entertainment again by unpacking and repacking everything as we watched him struggle. “What are you doing?!” we yelled, again.

The next morning, we were woken early to the sound of Bradshaw leaving. He was off early to ride to Nelson before a storm rolled in. The rest of us slept in a bit longer due to slight headaches from the beers. Today was going to be the easiest of the lot – we just had to get back to Picton before 6pm for the ferry back to Wellington. It was another overcast day with breaks of sun; not too hot, not too cold. Great weather to work our way back around Queen Charlotte Drive. My legs were feeling good this day for some reason; strong, powerful. I wished they had been like that over the last two days. It would have made life a lot easier. We stopped off in Havelock for breakfast and picked up some stuff for lunch. The pace was kept steady. We had all day to get to Picton. No big rush. It let us just enjoy the day and the ride. Really soak up the beauty of the place. We stopped at Ngakuta Bay for a swim in the sea, and lunch. The sun was out. The sea was the perfect temperature. Just tremendous.

The final 11km were stunning. One last climb before descending into Picton. I had Hybrid Minds playing in my earphones as we knocked off the last bit. The perfect soundtrack to the last bit of this adventure, speed tucking our way down the wavy road to Picton. The lush green canopy of trees and the views of the bays, mixed with the euphoria of completing this mission, made for a magical moment. What a time.

We stopped for a quick look at the viewpoint overlooking Picton before we rode down the road into town, grabbing the bag of clean clothes we had stashed two days earlier out of the bushes. We had done it. The Royale with Cheese ticked off. Another mission done, and it was yet another great one.

We had a couple of hours to kill before the ferry, so we got some second lunch, went for a swim in the sea again, then downed a few pints in one of the waterfront bars. We chatted about the mission we had just done; it wasn’t as hard as Ferry to Fishy, but it was a further distance. Breaking it into three days definitely made it a more pleasant experience. The ride around Queen Charlotte Drive was far nicer than the main highway to Fishtail. This time it seemed like the perfect amount of Type 2 fun (although you could argue that the more Type 2, the bigger the reward at the end). Royal was an absolute treat to ride, and getting to tick off some of the Wakamarina was a huge bonus. You couldn’t have asked for a better crew as well; just the best. We left the Capital on a Saturday morning, rode kilometres into the backcountry, rode a big mountain, rode back – and we were going to be back in the Capital by Monday evening. How good! Weekend adventures done right.

We boarded the ferry back to Wellington, found some good seats, and settled in. We hadn’t even made it out of the Sounds before we started talking about what was next. What’s going to be the next one we tick off? We have a few ideas in mind…. Watch this space.