Bike Review: SRAM Eagle Transmission XO Groupset
WORDS: LIAM FRIARY
PHOTOGRAPHY: JAKE HOOD
DISTRIBUTOR: WORRALLS
RRP: $3,315
The mountain bike world is constantly moving forward. The sport is – and has been – defined by progression. I mean, without it, we wouldn’t be riding the bikes nor the trails we are today. SRAM’s Eagle Transmission takes the term ‘progression’ to a whole new level. I think the real standout thing about this product is a statement from SRAM’s PR homie, Chris Mandell, who said, “we (SRAM) didn’t have to change the hanger, but we wanted to have better, more precise, accurate and robust shifting”. And so, several years back, the development started.
Sometimes progression is misguided and, as we know, there’s a heap of new products with a ton of claims that don’t really seem to add any value. However, getting rid of the derailleur hanger with the new Eagle Transmission groupset, and solving adjustment issues, has value. The evolution hasn’t relented in the past two decades and, it’s fair to say, most parts and components have been overhauled, making them lighter, efficient and more robust. The drivetrain and, especially, the rear derailleurs and corresponding cassettes have undergone significant improvements, offering huge gear ranges and fast, reliable shifting. So, as the key player between the derailleur and frame it’s fair to say the derailleur hanger has seen some development – but it’s been lagging. Especially when you consider the wide range gears of modern derailleurs. Also, nearly every bike brand uses their own hanger design, which sometimes requires adjustment of the rear derailleur. This can often mean messing around with the upper and lower stops, or the B screw, because if the rear derailleur isn’t shifting like it should, you need to set the distance between the upper pully and the cassette. And we haven’t even delved into the realm of dropping or knocking your derailleur hanger, which can make it bend and render it bloody hopeless.
SRAM’s Eagle Transmission aims to solve all these issues by removing the hanger altogether, thanks to its hangerless interface. The Eagle Transmission derailleur mounts directly to the thru-axle, however, it’s not all that simple to get this transmission on your bike. You will need to have a UDH derailleur hanger. Now, I’m not here to write an essay about it, but more to give you my first impressions of riding the new groupset over the past four months. For more, check out the feature (page 40) about the SRAM ride camp, and we will aim to bring you more ongoing tests of the groupset throughout the year. In the next issue, I will go more in-depth about the new cranks, chainrings, chain, and the longevity – I will also add my take on the new SRAM Code Ultimate Stealth brakes.
Late last year, I was contacted by Chris Mandell (SRAM PR) to get a UDH bike ready for his upcoming visit to Aotearoa. I scrambled around and managed to wrangle a media Trek Fuel EX bike, which we fitted out with SRAM Eagle Transmission XO groupset.
My initial riding impressions of the Eagle Transmission, was that it shifts more efficiently and has a mechanical shift feel. Let me elaborate on those points in a reverse order.
The Eagle Transmission groupsets have new controllers, now called ‘Pods’. There are two models – Standard Pod and Ultimate Pod. They both look similar, but you can change the rubberised button caps on the Ultimate Pods and adjust the ergonomics of the buttons. Also, there are two clamps for mounting the Pod. The standard clamp connects the Pod to the brake. You can move the Pod in and out to a certain extent, moving it towards or away from your hand, as well as rotating the horizontal axis. Alternatively, you can make use of the so-called Infinity Clamp, which is a separate handlebar clamp. You can rotate this in almost any position and attach it in every conceivable way. Here too, the Pod can be rotated infinitely around its own horizontal axis. The whole thing tightens up with a single Torx T25 bolt. Additionally, on the inside of the Pod, you’ll find a button for the MicroAdjust function, which allows you to fine-tune the derailleur, shifting it inwards or outwards in 14 increments. You can still adjust the assignment of the buttons using the SRAM AXS app, or use the traditional AXS controllers if you don’t get along with the new Pods.
The shifting on the new AXS Pods is different when compared to the previous generation of AXS controllers – its more defined, and firmer. They give better feedback and have a definite click. This is thanks to rubberised caps and the different ergonomics options – it’s much clearer about which button you’re pressing. This became evident when getting rowdy through a tough technical rock section. The more I have used these Pods, the more I like them – and this became more noticeable when switching back to the previous generation of AXS controllers. They just make more sense in terms of the ergonomic perspective.
Let’s move onto the shifting. Out the gate, the functionality of the Eagle Transmission groupset is a very clean shifting process, however, there’s a slight lag when compared to conventional shifting. There’s a reason behind this: the chain of the new transmission will only shift once it has reached the perfect point on the cassette. So, when you press the button on the Pod, it doesn’t necessarily make the rear derailleur move immediately. This does depend on your gear choice and your cadence when shifting. But we’re talking fractions of a second and it’s barely noticeable after you’ve ridden it for half an hour – now I don’t even notice it. The flip side to this, is that it allows you to shift unhindered, and keep pedaling at full throttle.
Out with the old ways and in with the new era – you no longer need to back off the pedals every time you’re shifting. This is quite a big change and it’s supreme in practice. Also, this is super- convenient and promises to massively increase the longevity of your drivetrain – especially on an XC bike or eMTB. Sometimes, when shifting more than one gear, it feels like the derailleur delays the process ever so slightly – so you think you’re done and then it shifts into another gear. The reason behind this, is to maintain its precision and keep the chain engaged with a maximum of two cogs at once. You can delete that knocking noise and associated vibrations you get from conventional derailleurs when shifting under load.
The groupset has been flawless. During the four months I’ve tested it for, it’s been smooth and quiet all that time. That’s no joke – I’ve travelled with the bike up and down the country in cardboard boxes and it’s been on and off my rig a ton, and that’s before I even mention the relentless riding. I think I noticed the biggest change when I went back to continental shifting – it becomes apparent that you need to back off the pedals to shift. For me, the shifting under load is massive gamechanger. After a while you unlearn the old ways of shifting, and this shifting becomes intuitive.
I was clearly lying earlier, as this is now becoming an essay – so let me bring it to a close with some final words about robustness. During the test period I didn’t manage to rip off any of the rear derailleur, and would bet it’s near impossible to do so. I bashed the derailleur around and it has come away unscathed, apart from a few cosmetic scratches. It rides unfazed about any disturbance, even when directly stood on – Chris did this during one of the ride camp days and showed us that even when it’s stood on you can pick it up and ride off without any drama whatsoever. I have shown a few friends this trick over the test period and it impressed them, but what was more impressive was that I could get back aboard my bike and change gears. This derailleur is bloody tough and performs incredibly well.
SRAM have done well at removing the parts off the trail that are annoying – like adjustment requirements – and delivered on impeccable, reliable and robust shifting. Yes, the price is damn high, but given the innovation, quality and precision, you’re not going to be disappointed.
Downhill World Record
Words: Annie Ford
Photography: Callum Wood
A World Record: the pursuit of something you’re not even sure is possible. An opportunity to push your ability and ambition to the outer limit.
It started with a ridiculously pedally summer. After riding the length of New Zealand, towing a surfboard, my newfound fitness led me to climb over 10k vert – accidentally becoming the first woman to do so on an enduro bike. It was a summer of deleting limiting beliefs and digging deep. But I’m a downhiller at heart, and there was one last thing I had my eye on before the end of the season: take the same trusty bike – my Santa Cruz Nomad – and attempt to break a Downhill World Record.
After a little research, I learnt there was no Women’s World Record for vertical descending in 24 hours, only a men’s record. The minimum requirement to set the women’s record was 30,000 metres, or eight Aoraki/ Mount Cook’s. The Men’s World Record, held by two Germans in Schladming, stood at a mammoth 40,840 metres, or 10 Aoraki/Mount Cook’s. I felt sorry for my enduro bike already.
First hurdle: where? Nowhere in New Zealand – or Aussie – can you descend vertical metres as quickly (or as enjoyably) as you can at Coronet Peak. And it’s right in my backyard. Exposed, rough and – best of all – steep, the National Coronet DH Track was my lap of choice: four minutes up, four minutes down, with 419 metres vert gained each time. To set the women’s record, I’d need to do 72 laps.
I began mentally preparing for the sheer repetitiveness and volume of laps. What would it even feel like? No one knew. Ahh well, I guess that’s the whole concept behind a world record.
Second hurdle: the Nomad. I was about to do a season’s worth of riding in a single day. My poor, poor baby… Ben and KC from Vertigo Bikes came to the rescue. We replaced my handlebars with ultra-compliant carbon Title MTB bars, slid on RevGrips and installed Axxios vibration reduction. My SRAM/ RockShox setup was still mint and only needed a service. We rebuilt the wheels, threw on new tyres, and made everything super soft.
Third hurdle: sickness. How’s this for timing – two days before the attempt, I woke up unable to move. I was rolled by the only flu I’d ever had and couldn’t breathe without coughing. I organised the final days by texts rather than phone calls, so people couldn’t hear my voice – and couldn’t tell me not to do it. Sorry mum.
The day rolled in and I was sick as a dog. On the plus side, the weather looked clear for the first 12 hours, with rain forecast to increase. The plan was to kick off at 8pm on the 15th of March, knocking over the night laps while fresh. The Coronet chairlift was sped up to 100% and trucked along at five metres per second – almost too fast to remove our own bikes from the chair in front. The excitement was intense, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. I’d never seen a chairlift move so fast. It was bloody happening.
Lap 1 was the most dangerous in my mind, simply because my excitement and energy was borderline ridiculous. “Pace yourself”. Find your lines, settle in. One done. My cheeks already hurt from smiling.
And so, it began. It was some of the most fun riding I’ve ever done. It felt like my mates and I had a private bike park with the speediest chairlift ever – it was ruinously good. The dirt was perfect, a million stars overhead. It didn’t seem real, and we kept looking at each other and bursting out laughing. Time was flying. The cold air attacked my lungs on the chairlift, and my cough became our constant companion. Ascending was harder than descending in those early hours.
For the first 20 laps, I set the pace by leading other riders. I soon learnt that following someone else, however, meant I had to think less. I soon had favourite riders to follow, especially if they showed me smoother lines. It wasn’t long before we could ride that track blindfolded. We knew every rock, every line.
Forty laps in – halfway to the women’s record – fatigue began to wear in. I had my first Red Bull ever, with a coffee chaser. Damn, I could never have foreseen the effect: infinite energy at 3am, a million words a minute. It lasted about five laps before a thick, solid wall was hit. My appetite plummeted, and all food became repulsive. I was on the verge of vomiting each and every time I ate, with food getting shaken up the instant I dropped in. Conversely, I couldn’t afford not to eat, with mandarins and boiled potatoes all I could keep down. Rather than looking for fast lines, I began looking for smooth lines.
Fifty laps in, I began double finger braking and sitting down while descending. Combined, I swear there’s no better feeling in the world. There were no more smooth lines, given I had created my own braking bumps throughout the night. The beginning of arm pump was setting in, an uncomfortable sensation I had sought while training, but never felt. Temperatures dropped, my fingers began to freeze, and braking became more and more difficult. Digging had begun.
A faint red glow lit up the mountain range across the valley, the beginning of an incredible sunrise. I’d just lived the fastest night in history. Those sunrise laps are burnt into my memory forever – a red sky above, lapping with mates in one of the most epic places on the planet. We stopped and stared, but only for a moment.
The Women’s World Record was hit at 9am, 13 hours into the ride, with a growing crowd to celebrate. Wow.
Day broke. The light changed everything; it felt like our laps now were on a different mountain, on a different day, on a different planet. Twelve of 24 hours down already, I started doing my fastest lap times, energised by being able to see, plus the women’s record – 72 laps, 30,000m – was getting close now. I got so excited I started doing features and pulling up for jumps again – a bad idea in hindsight, given every single impact cost me towards the end. The crew that had lapped all night with me needed to go to work, leaving me to continue lapping, alone now. This is how I usually ride, and I smiled to myself on the chairlift, absorbing the absurdity of it all. It gave me a chance to pause, feel. It’s then I realised I couldn’t feel my thumbs anymore. Nerve damage. Hopefully they come back someday.
I watched darkening clouds roll towards us from the south, it was no longer a race against time, but a race against rain. My support crew warned me I was a single lap away from the women’s record, that I was well ahead of time, that I should rest. The threatening rain decided for me – the perfect dirt wasn’t going to last much longer. The risk of injury would skyrocket if it got wet, so I’d only rest when I couldn’t continue riding non-stop.
The Women’s World Record was hit at 9am, 13 hours into the ride, with a growing crowd to celebrate. Wow. Eight Aoraki/Mount Cook’s. A new World Record holder. It wasn’t the plan, but, why not? Time to hunt down the men’s record. To celebrate, the support crew didn’t force me to eat that lap – a genuine and unexpected highlight. I began to realise eating was one of the hardest parts of the attempt.
Rain began to fall. Twenty more laps would break the Men’s World Record. Doable. Within reach. But, with fatigue and increasingly muddy conditions, 20 laps felt like 2000. I couldn’t afford mistakes, because my balance was rapidly deteriorating. I was double finger braking only now and sitting at every opportunity – which wasn’t often. My hands and forearms were noticeably swelling with each lap, their size clearly seen beneath my gloves and jumper. I slowed, could no longer jump, and began gritting my teeth with the pain of every braking bump or G-out. It was then that Brooke and Penny joined me – I harvested their high energy and stoke. More and more tourists joined the fray, filming and encouraging us from the sidelines, which meant even more energy for me to harvest.
The heavens opened with just ten laps to go, and the last few laps were indeed horseshit. No one wins a shootout with wet Coronet. Thick mud coated both my tyres, making balancing through tight switchbacks near impossible. The closer to 100 laps we came, the slower time seemed to go. I had a little tumble on the 98th lap, covering my gloves in cold mud. I didn’t have the emotional bandwidth for a response to the layover, just picked the bike up, wiped my hands, and carried on. The words “be patient, stay upright” were now on repeat in my head.
At the bottom of the 98th lap, I was told I’d just broken the official World Record. I was exhausted, wet, but grinning; and met with clapping from hardy spectators braving the rain. I felt relief, and impatience. I was solely focused on 100 laps. Nothing else mattered. Arbitrarily and shallowly, ‘98 laps of Coronet’ just doesn’t sound quite as good as 100. Righto, two more then.
Those last two laps were easily the diciest riding I’ve ever done. Every part of me was fatigued, my arms were massively pumped, my goggles were covered in rain, and the trail had become peanut butter. I especially dreaded the rock slab, where poor balance went head-to-head with high consequence features. Despite this, speed increased on the final lap with all pain forgotten, completely trumped by the excitement of finishing. Crazily, it was one of the fastest laps I’d ridden. On the home straight of the 100th lap, I saw the support crew, standing and waiting in the rain, smiles from ear to ear. It was done.
I dropped my bike at their feet and was showered in rain and beer. I had no words. Arms were wrapped around me, with friends and strangers joining in the celebrations. I cannot explain the feeling I had in my chest, the comradery of the crew, the soreness in my body. It’s an experience I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to surpass, but I’ll sure try.
Final figures: 100 laps. 42,085 metres descended. 18 hours and 53 minutes.
I dropped my bike at their feet and was showered in rain and beer. I had no words.
I went out chasing a number, but that turned out to be the least important part. The people, the focus, the beauty, the mind, the body, and the INCREDIBLE support. That’s what’s real.
I honestly cannot articulate my gratitude to those who made it up the mountain with me. I could not have done it without them. They brought fuel to the fire, timely playfulness, and brilliance to this giant ticking clock we call life. I’ll never forget it.
A special shout out to the incredible Coronet Peak team, who supported me every step of the way. To SRAM, Patagonia and Title MTB for getting epic adventures like this off the ground. To Ben Hildred, for your perseverance in getting me to eat, and holding me up physically and mentally when the going got really tough. To the riders, Mateo Verdier, Brooke Thompson, Piyush Chavan, Jess Blewitt, Baxter Maiwald, Brett Rheeder, Penny Rowson, Jake Byrne, Sam Evans and Jamie McKay, who shared the wild ride. To the witnesses, Robert Lyons, Robin Bush, Lena Florey, Iona Bruce and Paul Westbrook, who put in long shifts at ridiculous hours. And to Jonny Ashworth and Callum Wood, whose incredible talents captured the day perfectly.
Musings
Words and illustration by Gaz Sullivan
“I hit ‘Buy Now’ and moved into the post-purchase second-guessing period…”
A couple of weeks ago, the stars aligned, and I added two new bikes to the stable at once. By a combination of circumstances that are best left unexplored, I stepped up to a brand new trail bike. Part of that exciting transaction was keeping all of my previous trail bike, except the frame.
As many of you will understand, there are already more bikes in my shed than I really have time to use. Each is suited to a particular purpose, and there is surprisingly little redundancy across the fleet. Some of them get out several times a week, some of them might hang there for months, waiting for the day when what they are useful for is what I am going to have a crack at.
So, with that in mind, a sensible person would turn the pile of pretty nice parts into cash via some sort of online marketplace.
That is what I set out to do. Honest.
My first step was to browse around, trying to establish a value for all this stuff.
There were similar parts with prices ranging from depressingly low to delusionally high.
And there were a lot of things available. I started thinking about the sheer tedium of listing everything, communicating with tyre-kickers, and then trying to send a pair of wheels to Invercargill.
Wondering if anybody would want the entire pile, and because I have a short attention span, I wandered over to the ‘frames’ department on the off chance there might be some path to follow there.
The very first thing I saw was a brand-new hardtail, my size, and completely compatible with everything in my parts trove except the bottom bracket. Plus, it was steel, which made it cool and very desirable.
A short but fierce mental argument followed. I bet you have endured similar battles. One part of my brain was of the opinion that a seat tube diameter matching my functional-but-virtually-worthless dropper post was a sign from heaven, and I should immediately buy the frame before anybody else did. Another part kept chiming in with the various things I could do with my winnings if I carried on with the original plan and ditched the parts. The first part came back with the very sound reasoning that if I acquired the frame, built it up, and then fell on hard times, a complete bike would be easier to sell than a pile of parts, and there would be nothing left over except a rear shock. Which would be left over anyway, and can be sold. It might even pay for the required bottom bracket.
The ‘buy the frame’ faction had the upper hand, but the other side somewhat lamely countered with a comment about the number of bikes already in the shed, pointing out how rarely some of them escape into the wild.
That was fairly easy to ignore – we are well-practiced in doing exactly that.
The final straw was somebody asking a question about the frame while I was looking at it.
I never found out what the question was, and didn’t wait for the answer. I hit ‘Buy Now’ and moved into the post-purchase second-guessing period.
The excitement of the new possession was far more powerful than the slowly fading doubts, and soon enough the frame turned up and the parts were bolted on.
The bike came out even better than Mr Positive Brain imagined, and the naysaying lame-o in the negative has not been heard of much since, except for a brief appearance the first time we took the new beast into the trails.
A sort of ‘see? I told you this was a dumb idea’ popped out on the first bit of fast, choppy trail, as my body tried to adjust to life with no rear suspension. How we rode places like Moab, Utah on a rigid hardtail is beyond my ability to recollect, but we did, and I have doggedly continued to try to do so.
I am not really getting any closer to floating over the ground like I should, and rides on the new dually are certainly much easier on the joints and fillings. But me and my mental go-for-it are still very happy we went for it.
Nothing like a different bike to make a ride fresh and new.
Red tape runs down volunteer enthusiasm
Words: Meagan Robertson
Photography: Cameron Mackenzie & Henry Jaine
As a longtime supporter of volunteer trail builders, Trail Fund NZ increased its focus on advocacy four years ago. The catalyst was when it came to light that the classification of bikes as ‘vehicles’, on public conservation land, was causing significant delays to projects around the country and meant that iconic trails – including several Great Rides – did not comply. Since then, it’s been a slow ride towards resolving the issue, and several passionate volunteers are feeling defeated.
“Old Ghost Road, Great Lake Trail, Paparoa, Timber Trail… these are only a few of the country’s Great Rides that have sections that don’t comply with the local Conservation Management Strategy,” explains Trail Fund Advocacy Manager, Jimmy Young. “It is understood that numerous Great Rides have sections that don’t comply, and dozens of other iconic mountain bike trails are also caught in the crosshairs.”
The knot at the bottom of these cross hairs appears to be the Conservation Act 1987, under which bicycles are considered vehicles. However, most (if not all) of these trails have been built since then, with DOC permission an integral part of the planning and execution processes.
What changed?
At some point around 2018, Department of Conservation (DOC) staff started taking a different approach towards applications for cycle trails on department land. According to DOC, it is due to increased interest in biking around the country, but cycle trail managers and administrators say there appears to have been a complete reinterpretation of the 2005 legislation that overlaid the conservation management strategies.
“The ‘new’ approach was that a region’s Conservation Management Strategy (CMS) needed to identify the locations and use of vehicles (bikes in our case) and other forms of transport on land owned or administered by the department,” explains Jimmy. “However, DOC now wanted the locations of current and proposed cycle trails to be listed in the strategies before an application could be made to build them.”
Basically, bikes can only be used on trails explicitly specified (in a list) in the CMS, as opposed to assessing bikes on trails through an ‘effects–based approach’, which is the approach Trail Fund and other bike organisations are suggesting.
While this might not be an issue if the CMS’ were reviewed every few years, this is far from the case in New Zealand. CMS’ are only meant to be reviewed every 10 years and, in reality, seven of the 16 are current, two are under review, one is under development and six are overdue for review. Some are more than 20 years old.
Taupō trails on trial
Bike Taupō, which has built tracks and provided community representation for all Taupō cyclists since 2002, was one of the first clubs to face DOC’s ‘new’ interpretation of the Act. Chairperson, Pete Masters, and committee member, Rowan Sapsford, reached out to Trail Fund, and Jimmy has been working with them and other groups since then.
“We have more than 200kms of trails that we manage and approximately 160kms of these are on public conservation land,” explains Rowan. “A number of them were purpose–built by Bike Taupo, including the Great Lake Trails and the Rotary Ride, which were developed back in 2003.
“Approximately four years ago we were told that these trails were ultra vires (which means an act that lies beyond the authority of a corporation to perform), as they were not scheduled in the local CMS, despite all trails being developed with signed management agreements with the Department.”
Rowan says this has been extremely problematic for several trails on public conservation land managed by Bike Taupō, as they have not been able to renew management agreements or access funding – despite support from the local DOC office.
This prompted Bike Taupō to start working with Trail Fund and other trail groups around the country to request that DOC move away from the scheduling approach. Four year later, the discussion continues.
“We believe an effects–based approach, where trails are assessed against the values at place rather than just being written off because bikes will be ridden on them, should be adopted,” says Rowan.
The club felt like maybe it was making headway when the Department recently agreed that a new cycle trail within the Taupo Tongariro Conservancy, which is not scheduled in the CMS, will be able to proceed.
“While this is great news for the club and the community on this one trail, it’s not reassuring overall, as we’ve been told by the Department that this will not apply to any other trails in the area,” says Pete. “This makes no sense, and feels like a cop out if the Department planners are going to take a consistent approach.”
With management agreements for some of the club’s trails up for renewal soon, Bike Taupo says it will be a real test of the Department’s approach.
“We have awesome support from the local DOC team, but I guess we will have to wait and see if the Department refuses to renew our management agreements for biking trails which have been in place for 20 years, such as the Rotary Ride between Taupō and Huka falls.”
Kaihu cut short?
On 10 June, 150 local cyclists were thrilled to cross the new Ahikiwi Bridge at the official opening of stage one of the Kaihu Valley Trail, a 30–kilometre route between Dargaville and Kaihu comprising two off–road trail sections currently linked by low–volume roads.
Once complete, the Kaihu Valley Trail in Northland is intended to allow cyclists and walkers to wind their way through forest and farmland, and along the Kaihu River from Dargaville to Donnelly’s Crossing – a distance of some 45km. It will largely follow the historic rail line built in 1896 to service the kauri industry. The top third of this old rail corridor is stewardship land administered by DOC.
However, excitement was muted due to news received just weeks before that the DOC concession for Stage 2 of the trail – which would take riders off the narrow state highway and reduce climbing – was declined.
In late 2022, DOC staff were asked if there were any issues related to the concession. They advised no, then took until May 2023 to decline the application.
Local Steve Gwilliam from the project team says the concession application was made in mid–2021, and the team reached out to Trail Fund for support in early 2023, in desperation.
“They declined our application despite granting a concession a year before, for the bridges and trail in Kaiwaka township (50km away), which specifically states ‘walking and cycling’,” says Steve. “This should have set a precedent or provided exceptional circumstances for consideration.
“It’s disappointing that it took 20 months for DOC to respond to the project team and advise the application for cycling was inconsistent with the General Policy Statement (GPS) and CMS,” says Steve. “Even more disappointing is that the corridor, which has little conservation value, is farmed (stock, vehicles etc) by adjoining farmers ‘without’ any concession, which is in complete breach of the GPS and CMS. In our view, it’s likely a cycle way would offer more protection to the remaining historic rail corridor and features, than the current illegal farming operations.”
Ironically, Northland MP, Willow–Jean Prime, who is also Conservation Minister, joined Kaipara District Council deputy mayor, Jonathan Larsen, in cutting the ribbon at a June 10 ceremony hosted by Ahikiwi Marae in Kaihu.
“This is an investment in the region,” said Prime. “It is good for locals and their wellbeing and also for visitors who come to the region.”
The track will form part of existing and proposed trails traversing the whole Northland region, including the Kauri Coast Cycleway Heartland Ride, which runs southward from Rawene on the Hokianga Harbour – and which itself links to the Twin Coast Cycle Trail from the Bay of Islands to Hokianga, one of the 23 Great Rides of New Zealand.
The trail has received significant investment from various sources, including $4 million from the Infrastructure Reference Group, a $600,000 contribution from Waka Kotahi and funding through the government’s COVID–19 Response and Recovery Fund from MBIE.
Unfortunately, the MBIE funding had a deadline and, due to the delay on DOC’s part, Steve says the opportunity to build the section of trail that had the most benefit to riders – by taking them off the narrow state highway and public roads with 100km/hr traffic and no shoulders, taking away substantial climbs and travelling through some iconic northland topography – has now been missed.
The concession application has been amended to be ‘walking–only’ in hopes it might get traction, but has heard nothing since.
“It’s pretty demoralising to put in so much effort and just feel like you get nowhere, despite everyone being seemingly on board in public,” says Steve.
Under pressure
Despite the frustrations, many bike organisations are loathe to publicly criticise local departments for fear it could make things worse, or because there’s generally a good relationship locally. However, one region’s results suggest public pressure could do the trick.
This is what happened in Otago, where the department – under pressure to consider many new cycle trails, including the Kawarau Gorge link between Queenstown and Cromwell funded by the Government as part of a grand cycleway from Central Otago to Dunedin – was forced to take action.
DOC launched a partial review of the 2016 Otago CMS, which attracted almost 1750 public submissions in 2019, and a decision listing 112 possible cycle trail sites was issued in July 2022.
However, the proposals still needed to go through an assessment process, including engagement with Ngāi Tahu and consultation with the Otago Conservation Board, and organisations spent thousands of hours covering every piece of land where they might want to develop a biking track.
“While it’s great that a partial review means there’s the possibility of new cycle trails that are in line with the CMS, retaining this approach isn’t the answer,” says Jimmy. “What we need is an effective mechanism for assessing tracks on their merits and impacts – not one approach for walking tracks and another for cycling.”
Looking ahead
Despite little progress in three years, Trail Fund and the organisations it’s been working with continue to strive for a solution.
“We really want to work with DOC on this for the cycling stakeholders and provide greater access opportunities for recreation,” says Jimmy. “We are keen to be part of the solution and assist DOC to come up with a pragmatic solution that can solve the issue permanently.
“We all want a result that legitimises the activity of cycling on public conservation land and values the time and resources that committed volunteers put into trails around the country, week after week.”
First Impressions: SRAM GX Transmission
WORDS: LESTER PERRY
DISTRIBUTOR: WORRALLS
RRP: $2,170
“I was eager to pull out the UDH hanger from my battle-scarred frame and slide on a new Transmission…”
After hearing whispers that a more affordable GX groupset may be in the pipeline, I was eager to pull out the UDH hanger from my battle-scarred frame and slide on a new Transmission.
SRAM has launched the GX series – continuing their ‘All Day’ theme with a groupset designed for all-mountain, all-day missions, at a far more affordable price.
What you find on the GX system is largely the same as the higher-end Transmissions released earlier this year. There are some subtle differences which are visually noticeable from those higher-end units. In particular, the battery is hidden away in what I’ll refer to as the “Derailleur Garage” – keeping it out of harm’s way – essentially inside the derailleur. Replaceable, protective skid plates have been added, and a two-piece outer link. It also features a tool-free cage assembly – so it’s both removable and upgradeable, should you want to do so. A steel inner cage replaces the carbon of its higher-end brethren. Like the GX AXS of old, it’s been built for riders of the real world.
A couple of weeks before the launch date, a nice cardboard cube arrived on the courier. I quickly watched an install video, and it was game on. It’s been a long time since I’ve installed anything on my bike that required a proper read of the instructions or, in this case, a video. SRAM does a killer job of stepping through the installation process: whoa-to-go in around 30 minutes. I’d imagine after another couple of goes, a whole Transmission could be installed in about 15 – 20 minutes, maybe even quicker. It really is pretty simple provided you’ve watched the video. My only install hiccup was my inability to pair the system to my phone (no doubt user error, but I’ll figure that out soon) as well as the compatibility of the shifter clamp with my brakes, which aren’t SRAM. It took a bit of jimmying, but I managed to get the two to work together – it did mean that I couldn’t take full advantage of the adjustment that should have been available. Fortunately, the one spot I could get the shifter to sit was just right for me. I see in their documentation a different shifter pod mount is available and this would have completely solved my issue.
Te Miro MTB Park, just out the back of Cambridge, was my first testing ground. For the uninitiated, the trails are reasonably varied but the general theme is clay and native roots, dispersed amongst meandering climbs with the odd pinch or crux move requiring low cadence torque and fast, precise shifting to get the most out of your bike if speed is your aim. Coming off the back of a few days of intermittent rain, I wasn’t expecting much aside from mud and muck – perfect for bedding in a fresh groupset.
Leaving the car park, I snapped through the gears and made sure everything was still as it should be. I shifted through the cassette and took a couple of looks back just to be sure it had shifted, as it was so smooth and quiet, just a small ‘zit’ noise and a rolling increase of resistance at the pedals. I spun my way up the Easy As climb, taking the harder, steeper lines where possible, purposely shifting at the wrong time and under full power. Thoroughly impressed at how positive the shifting feel and accuracy was I pressed on, thinking to myself, ‘sure, it’s good now, but I bet once there’s some mud in the system it will be just like everything else’.
‘Easy As’ caps out and links into the Miro climb; its mellow gradients are broken up with some proper NZ native roots. Regular traffic polishes off the bark and pulls slimy dirt up onto them. You have to have your wits about you to keep the power down and maintain forward momentum, a situation where a mis-shift or slipped gear will likely see you stalled out or on the floor. Again, I was impressed by how accurate the shift was, with no slipping or mis-shifts, regardless of how many shifts under full power, and regardless of cadence.
Climbing to the top of the native bush, Miro finished, and I dropped into ‘Phil’s Gold’ – a test of a rider’s fitness, line choice and cornering ability; no steeps, but lots of corners, and a fair smattering of slimy roots. Eager to make this thing mis-shift, I again banged through gears, up and down the cassette, forcing shifts out of near-dead-stop corners. Nought. Nothing. Nada. I couldn’t get it to fault. I wondered whether I’d be so positive after a few months aboard the groupset – would the crispness remain after riding the second half of winter on it?
Another climb up Miro and a lap down ‘Native DH’ and my time was up for the day. I was only one proper ride in but so far, so good. I found myself shifting way more than I would aboard my previous group, and shifting from dead stops, under full power, and over chunky surfaces. I’d be concerned about heading over the bars and losing teeth on any of my other setups with that sort of carry-on.
SRAM made some pretty bold claims about their remapped Cassette, new X-sync technology (i.e. redesigned shifting ramps) and use of their flat-top chain to make it all work: ‘Creating seamless shifts even during your hardest power output.’ I’ve gotta say, there’s something in this combination of marketing speak and fancy nomenclature that really makes this thing shift impressively under power – something other brands claimed they’d done years ago – but SRAM has taken it up a level. I’ll be very interested if it continues to perform to this level, even after many km’s and battery charges.
So far, I have three main concerns. One, will the shifting with buttons mean I lose my right thumb muscle tone, rendering it useless when I go back to a cable system? Two, will I smash off the low-hanging shifter Pod? And three, will I want to give this groupset back after the next few months of testing is over?
Trek Evoke Clothing
WORDS: LESTER PERRY
DISTRIBUTOR: TREK NZ
RRP: $239 (SHORTS), $79 (TECH TEE)
“I reach for the same few pieces of kit each time I’m headed out to the trails; the cream rises to the top…”
Even though I have a fair mountain of riding kit in my cupboard, I’m beginning to realise how little of it I actually regularly use. I reach for the same few pieces each time I’m headed out to the trails. The cream rises to the top and, provided I’ve done my laundry, then it’s unlikely I’ll delve too deep into the pile to use anything other than my unintended favourites. Recently, a new set of kit has made its way into my rotation, though: the Trek Evoke tech tee and the Trek Evoke shorts have become some of my regulars for trail riding.
TREK EVOKE SHORTS
Trek has stepped up its game and featured a lightweight two-way stretch material on the outer short, that’s not only made up of 65% recycled materials but tested for harmful substances through the STANDARD 100 by OEKO-TEX® test as well. It’s soft to handle and plush against the skin.
There are two main hip pockets up front and a zippered one on the back – ideal for car keys or small Allen keys, but nothing much more considerable. Up front, a domed closure is paired with a zipper to keep things tidy. I’m a pretty strict 32” waist so went for a Medium. I reckon they’re slightly on the larger side but, with a small adjustment of the Velcro adjusters on each side of the waist, they’re spot on. The fit is listed as ‘semi-fitted’, which seems pretty accurate as they’re reasonably roomy through the leg without being baggy.
The leg length is what will probably be the kicker as to whether you like these shorts or not. I’m slightly below average when it comes to leg length for my 176cm height, and the Evoke’s sit a little above my knees with their 11-inch inseam. In the grand scheme of MTB shorts, this is on the shorter side of things; most shorts sitting in excess of 12 inches. I reckon this length hits the nail on the head for their intended use as a trail short though, ideally sans-knee pads. The overall silhouette is equally at home on a trail ride as at the gym or local swimming spot – they’d even be sweet for a drop-bar gravel ride. With subtle branding – just a small woven label above the rear pocket – they don’t scream “I’m a mountain biker!” at all… which makes a nice change.
Wearing liner undershorts has become normal for many riders these days, and we’re seeing fewer and fewer people hiding bib shorts beneath their baggies. There are a heap of liners on the market these days but, from what I’ve experienced, most fall short and are merely ticking a box rather than offering the ideal solution. The fits are off, chamois are bad and the overall experience leaves me wishing I’d just purchased a good pair of bibs instead – then hidden them under baggies, of course!
Trek has knocked it out of the park with this pair of liners though – I’m impressed. Let’s start at the top and work our way down: the waistband is a wide, soft number – think, a comfy boxer-short style – and there’s no narrow elastic cutting into your stomach as you’re doubled over, chewing your stem whilst grunting up a steep climb. A couple of different recycled nylon and spandex blends on the main panels help the shorts form nicely to your body, with no discernible bunching or rubbing. The legs feature a similar band to the waist, but with rubber grippers on the rear – finally, a liner the legs won’t creep up on – and they’re awesome for holding up knee pads too. The liner can be used snapped into place, attached to the shorts, or worn completely independently – i.e. under another pair of shorts. Not by themselves… although we’re not ones to judge.
All the good features of a liner are easily let down by an inferior chamois but, after lots of saddle time, my undercarriage is happy to report that the chamois lives up to the rest of the short. No dramas here.
TREK EVOKE TECH TEE:
The Evoke Tech Tee’s main body fabric contains 85% recycled polyester blended with cotton, and passes the same OEKO-TEX® tests the shorts do, so no nasties are hiding in the fabrics.
Wearing a size large (normal for me) the semi-fitted cut is plenty comfy and leaves room for movement. I’m impressed that Trek used some panelling down the sides to help shape the form, not just a standard tee-styled cut. The rear has a slightly dropped tail to help avoid a public builders crack.
The fabric feels reasonably lightweight but not to the point I’d be concerned about tearing it any more than other riding shirts. It breathes well and doesn’t hold on to sweat but helps it evaporate off. Although I’ve been riding this off-white colour over the early winter, the mud seems to clean out of it much easier than some shirts I’ve used.
As with the shorts, this top doesn’t stand out from a casually-dressed crowd and, again, subtle branding helps you stay low-key; just a small chest logo hit proves that you are in fact a cyclist.
WRAP-UP
Like most of the Trek kit (or, previously, Bontrager) I’ve used over the years, the quality of both the shorts and the shirt appears to be top-notch. So far, it seems these garments will stand the test of both time and trails. If you’re searching for some versatile trail-riding garb with subtle style, and don’t want a baggier style ‘all-mountain’ look then the Evoke shorts and tech tee will likely be right up your alley.
Pirelli Scorpion Race DH & Enduro Tyres
WORDS: LESTER PERRY
DISTRIBUTOR: FE SPORTS
RRP: $149 (RACE DH), $159 (ENDURO)
“The first day of testing was about as testing for a rider as a tyre…”
‘Pick a tyre brand and be a dick about it.’ This phrase rings true in the MTB world – getting riders to try a new tyre brand is a tough ask. If what you’ve got works, why should you change it?
It’s fair to say the tried and true tyre brands have rested on their rubbery laurels over recent years, with no groundbreaking leaps forward in technology. Recently though, newer brands have entered the fray, and existing brands are innovating hard – in Pirelli’s case, they’re drawing on years of motorsport experience to shortcut the development process and take on the major players.
Pirelli has quietly toiled away for the last couple of years, developing their line of gravity focussed tyres, bringing over 150 years of motorsport prowess and synergising with MTB legend and development specialist – not to mention ex-World DH Champ – Fabian Barel alongside numerous test riders worldwide.
The perfect rubber compound is similar to Goldilocks’s porridge: when it’s not quite right, it’s not right at all. When conditions are prime, traction comes easy; it could roll well but then come unstuck on roots, rock or hardpack, feeling like you’re being “pinged” offline. Too soft and it will sap your speed and likely wear excessively quickly. What we’re after is the best of both worlds. When it comes to tyre carcass, we all want the lightest but most puncture-proof casing possible – again, the best of everything and an impossible task!
Once the Italians at Pirelli’s HQ in Milan finally woke from their afternoon ‘riposo’ (rest) we were shipped out two sets of their newly released ‘Scorpion’ gravity treads; a pair each of the new Enduro M in 29”, DH in 27.5”, and 29” to set up mullet.
Scorpion Race DH
Front: M (Mixed) Dual Wall+, Evo 42a dual compound, 29×2.5”
Rear: T (Traction) Dual Wall+, Evo 42a dual compound 27.5×2.5”
The Scorpion Race DH tyres feature a full 62tpi DualWall+ casing and a rubber insert at the bead to help prevent pinch flats. Designed with a heavy-hitting, all-out gravity focus, these tyres leave no question as to their intended use, with large knobs and huge, loud logos screaming, “Go fast and hit stuff”!
The best constructed tyre can be let down by the rubber attached to it, and it’s no secret most tyre brands fail at this when they enter the gravity market. Fortunately, it’s not Pirelli’s first rubber rodeo and they’ve nailed their compound. The Evo Dual Compound is soft and sticky, with a slow – but not sluggish – rebound characteristic. That sounds very subjective but it’s abundantly obvious when a brand gets the compound just right, and plenty have got it wrong.
Mounting these up on my enduro bike was a pleasant surprise. Comfortably edging them onto the rims by hand, then snapping them into place with a regular track pump – no tyre levers, sweaty brow or sprained thumbs required.
Rolling down the driveway, a few hops up and down the curb then some aggressive turns on the grassy verge gave a few instant impressions. They roll well for an out-and-out downhill race tyre, with no feeling like they’re sapping rolling speed and, while they’re noticeably heavier than the trail tyres I had been running, the weight is in line with their intended use and their competition. The first day of testing was about as testing for a rider as a tyre – a wet, but fortunately not too cold, day in Christchurch’s Port Hills. With slippery chutes and wet rocks aplenty, this was the perfect zone to get a feel for the treads in some challenging conditions. After all, what good is a tyre reviewed in prime conditions?
The first stop was the Christchurch Adventure Park and some sections of ‘The GC’ DH track. A few turns in the trail hooked right and straight across a slick off- camber; as I glided across the face I thought, “OK, these hook up well”. In control and comfortably upright, not something I’d expect to come so easily in these conditions.
You can’t tell a great deal how a tyre will perform by simply looking at the tread pattern, but you can make some assumptions about it will likely ride. The Scorpion ‘M’ tread has aggressive ramping on the lead edge of the centre knobs, helping it roll well and maintain speed. There’s a line of transition knobs to fill the void when tipping over to the side knobs from the centre, helping keep the feel consistent. Siping (small cuts in the knobs) are added to help the knobs conform to firm surfaces, adding extra edges for just that little more grip, as well as helping the designers somewhat tune the feel of a tyre. The M tread is reasonably open and clears mud well even at pretty low speeds, and the side knobs offer plenty of support and a consistent drift once they do break loose.
On the rear, the ‘T’ tread speaks of its motocross heritage. The main feature of the tread is a wide central knob – it’s super effective under brakes, and without the ramps of the ‘M’ tread it offers exceptional power transfer but higher rolling resistance – it’s a downhill focussed tyre after all, so not really a big deal. The central knob is designed to have the centre portion cut out of it to optimise for softer conditions or use as a front tyre. For the uninitiated, tread cutting is a common sight on the World Cup Downhill circuit. The side knobs are nearly identical to those on the ‘M’ series and have a similar consistent feel.
After a couple of days aboard the Scorpion DH tyres, sampling Christchurch’s Port Hills in winter conditions, I’d happily recommend them to those seeking a full-blown DH race or park option, those looking for a heavy-duty Enduro setup riding rocky courses, or aggressive ‘Clydesdales’ aboard e-bikes looking for extra grip and puncture protection.
Scorpion Race Enduro
Front: M (Mixed) Dual Wall, Evo 42a dual compound, 29×2.5”
Rear: M (Mixed) Dual Wall+, Evo 42a dual compound, 29×2.5”
Back on home turf in the Waikato, I unpacked my bike after the Christchurch stint and mounted up the Enduro cased tyres. Just like the DH tyres, these were a cinch to mount up.
Front and rear I had the ‘M’ tread. The same tread and compound as the DH front tyre I’d ridden the week prior, but a more supple ‘Dual Wall’ 120tpi casing and rubber insert like the DH tyres. According to Pirelli’s documentation, these tyres knock around 190g off the DH versions in 29”, so certainly a big difference in weight.
Testing these in the middle of a Waikato winter it’s a sure thing there will be lots of moisture around and with our local trails a mix of hardpack clay, slippery roots and moist leaf rot, there’s plenty of variety to make an assessment – we’re just missing sections of chunky rock. Riding around this area can be sketchy at best of times, in the winter, so any shortcomings in either bike setup or skills will quickly be highlighted.
The lighter weight of the Enduro tyres was welcomed after running the heavier DH versions. The Enduro ‘DualWall’ casing gives more trail feel, and the lighter weight was certainly noticeable when hopping over trail features or accelerating out of slow corners. These things offer confidence in spades, particularly when the going gets fast and rough – after all, that’s precisely what they’re designed for. They allow you to more confidently head for the ideal line, not just the one dictated to you by the conditions or your tyres.
Descending on these is a blast. Charging on familiar trails and headlong into some sketchy root sections, I was thankful for how well the tyres held their line; the soft compound offering confidence on the roots where my normal tyres would let go. Cornering feels very natural, with no discernible gap from being ‘upright’ to leaning in, something I’ve struck on tyres in the past. There’s a positive, almost locked-in feel about them, thanks to the strategically placed, large sticky knobs.
All traction comes to an end at some point, and the Scorpions give a consistent drift rather than a “you’ve just hit ice” sort of surprise once they do let go. I noticed this several times when the tread would let go in a controlled manner and then hook up again, no big sketchy surprises here.
Braking was awesome, largely down to the large knobs, but equally down to the rubber compound and carcass, all damping trail chatter and allowing the tyre to bite and conform without breaking traction.
Climbing was where I found the only chink in the Scorpion ‘M’ armour. With the central knobs so heavily ramped on the leading edge, there’s no square sharp edge to bite in when climbing. ‘Slippery when wet’ surfaces require being conscious of where and when you’re putting the power down to prevent wheel spin. It’s not a big deal on a tyre of this genre, as they’re designed for all-out enduro speed, not taking uphill KOM’s. This trait may be more noticeable on an eBike so opting for the ‘T’ tread could be ideal.
All the acronyms and hyperbole mean nothing if you’re bouncing off roots and can’t hold a line confidently. The combination of tread pattern, rubber compound and casing on these inspire speed and confidence. If you’re an enduro racer or eMTB rider looking for a hard-hitting, but not overly heavy or sluggish set of tyres to use all year round, these should be on your ‘must-buy’ list.
Are the Pirelli Scorpion gravity series a game-changer? It’s hard to say they’re head and shoulders above the established competition, but they’re easily on par or fractionally better and certainly a very worthy opponent. If you’re looking to change things up and try something fresh, these tyres would be a great place to start. You might well find an advantage over what you’ve been used to – I certainly have.
Bike Review: Norco Fluid FS A1
WORDS: GAZ SULLIVAN
PHOTOGRAPHY: SAVANNA GUET
DISTRIBUTOR: ADVANCE TRADERS
RRP: $5,599
“The Norco Fluid FS A1 was something of a revelation.”
I was looking forward to getting on the bike. Some mates in Australia had almost convinced me to get a Norco a few years back and, while I didn’t follow their advice, I was curious to find out what they were on about – and what I was missing out on.
I spent a month and a half on it – riding every other day, trying to figure out what made it feel so good.
As a representative of today’s mid-price mountain bike, it is a great example. Whether you think a hair over five and a half grand is mid-priced depends on a lot of things, but in a world of five figure builds, some of which start with a two, it seems pretty economical.
The first thing that needs saying is how good the bike looks. Obviously subjective, but a sparkly green paint job with chrome stickers does it for me.
It’s a very nice piece of design and execution. Subtly formed tubes, seamless junctions, and that lustrous paint job look really great.
The rear end finish is industrial by contrast – no effort has been made to smooth out the welds. Again, personal opinion, but I like that.
The Norco fitout has quality where it counts. Suspension is handled by Fox FLOAT components at both ends. The Factory 34 GRIP2 fork gives 140mm travel up front, and the X Performance Elite shock provides 130mm at the back end – pretty much the perfect setup for most trail riding.
The ultra-reliable Shimano XT drivetrain pairs up with a Praxis G2 crankset, with a 30 tooth chainring driving a 10-51 XT cassette. They even spec’d an XT chain.
The less critical parts are not from the big guys, or flashy boutique brands. As you might expect, they are from the more budget oriented end of things.
But that doesn’t mean they are not up to the job.
TRP supplied the brakes and the seat dropper. The brakes are Trail EVO, a four piston design hauling on a 203mm rotor up front and a 180 at the back. They worked really well while I was on the bike. The seat dropper was also well-behaved, and generous in both width at 34.9mm and travel, a handy 170mm on the Medium and Large size bikes.
While we are on that subject, the bike comes in five sizes, S to XXL, with a few tweaks along the size range. The S comes with 170mm cranks, the rest of the line-up have 175s. The seat dropper moves 150mm on the S, and 200mm on the XL and XXL.
The wheel set has Stan’s Flow S1 rims on boost hubs, and come fitted with Vittoria tyres.
So, that is the basic stuff you could find online out of the way. A bit more of a web- crawl would reveal some very positive information from the bike media – the machine is Pinkbike’s Value Bike of the Year, Vital MTB’s Bike of the Year, and Bicycling Magazine’s Best Value Trail Bike.
All good.
The stuff you can’t find online is what I thought of it.
My first ride was out the door and onto a fairly long singletrack climb. The bike is not particularly light, mid 15s in kilograms. It feels light, though. The suspension design and shock combine to make a solid pedalling platform, and the bike goes uphill as well as any bike with the handicap of having me on top of it.
A steep 76.6 degree seat tube put me in the ideal position for climbing a trail that has a lot of little obstacles and tight turns.
Turning directly into a downhill trail at the top of the first climb was a snap decision – this particular trail is a favourite, because it is at the top end of what I consider to be within my comfort zone. Normally I would go somewhere else until I felt at home on a strange new bike, but the Norco felt very familiar from the first few pedal strokes.
As much as climbing on the bike felt better than the weight would have you expect, going downhill was better than the mid-travel suspension promised.
Going down the trail, the bike was surefooted, relaxed, and felt quietly capable. The rear suspension is a very solid feeling platform and the long 480mm reach, (in size large), combined with a fairly slack 65 degree head tube, made everything I came across on the trails I like easy to ride with confidence.
The tyres were new to me, although Vittoria and I go way back – like, almost fifty years – to a couple of pairs of track tubulars I liked in a previous life. I have been very happy with a couple of sets of road tyres from the bicycle-only tyre company, but I had never tried their mountain bike rubber before.
The bike came with a 2.4 Mazza on the front and a 2.35 Martello on the rear. I think part of the sprightly feeling the bike had on the climbs and rolling along cross country trails may be down to them. Like the bike, they are not particularly light, and they are not the fastest rolling tyres around, but they were reliable on the fairly wet trails we encountered during my time aboard the Fluid.
I found the more I rode it, the more I liked it.
The Fluid is a bike that straddles the divide between a cross-country style bike and a more enduro oriented rig. For an all-day ride with a bit of everything, it’s hard to imagine what it could do better.
The engine inside: Redefining the impact of bicycles
WORDS: DAISY MADDINSON
PHOTOGRAPHY: DAVE MACKISON
Narrated by the legendary voice of cycling, Phill Liggett, The Engine Inside is a captivating feature-length documentary that weaves together the extraordinary stories of six everyday people. Through their experiences, the film unveils the remarkable power of the bicycle to promote profound change in our lives and communities. One of the documentary’s writers, Daisy Maddinson, shares how the film hopes to spark a feel-good revolution on two wheels.
Beyond the traditional portrayal of cycling as a sport or recreational activity, we don’t often give the bicycle much thought. Some might use it to get from A to B or commute to the office, but have you ever seriously considered the deeper impact of swinging a leg over?
The Engine Inside goes deeper, exploring the often-overlooked potential of this 200-year-old machine. Through the stories of six everyday people using the bicycle as a tool, the documentary delves into the significance of cycling in helping solve various global issues, including physical and mental well-being, socioeconomic inequality and climate change.
As writers, we wanted to go beyond the surface of cycling and showcase the true essence of the bicycle and its transformative power. In the development stage, every story we uncovered touched us deeply. We met people who faced daunting personal and systemic challenges head-on—from generational trauma and economic barriers to women’s equity and motor vehicle collisions—who have all found hope in the simple act of riding a bike. Their determination to overcome adversity through cycling left us humbled and even more inspired to use storytelling to spread the “bike gospel”.
By sharing the journeys of these everyday people from all walks of life, the film challenges anyone who watches it to reevaluate their own perspective on the transformative power of the bicycle.
The world can feel big and ugly sometimes. With so many converging social and environmental problems, the weight of the world can be overwhelming. We think, how can we as individuals change anything? And what use is one small action when the problems are so large? After watching The Engine Inside, we wanted the audience to ask themselves: Can an act as ordinary as riding a bike truly unlock strength and resilience within us all?
The documentary urges us to see the bicycle as more than just a means of transportation or a way to enjoy the great outdoors. It shows us how riding can act as a catalyst for change. It shows us that small actions do make a difference.
Our hope is that The Engine Inside will prompt anyone who sees it to change their view of cycling and embrace the transformative power of the bicycle and the engine inside us all. We can build a better world, one pedal stroke at a time.
Film release coming late 2023.
Keep on pushing: The Volcanic Epic 2023
Words: Lester Perry
Photography: Chris Chase
The Volcanic Epic is NZ’s newest and longest multi-day cross-country MTB event. After a storied journey to the start, the inaugural edition kicked off on 23 March 2023. Riders competed as individuals or two-person teams, across either two or four-day options.
Every rider came to the Volcanic Epic start line with their own story. For some, it was overcoming cancer or mental health struggles just to be there on the line, the event being the culmination of hard work and persistence, putting a cap on their recovery and proving they could overcome seemingly insurmountable challenges just to be there. For others, it was an opportunity to get away from ‘normal’ life and simply ‘Ride, Relax and Repeat’ (the tagline of the event), a twisted holiday of sorts.
It wasn’t just the competitors who’d climbed metaphorical mountains to be there – the event organisers, Nduro Events, headed by Tim and Belinda Farmer, had to tackle equally as large challenges just to make the event happen.
Winding the clock back to 2019, Tim was headed to the Port-to-Port stage race in Australia. Training in the bank, he was eager for the experience. Early in the first stage, a rider wiped out Tim’s front wheel, taking him down and in the process smashing up his shoulder. Whilst laid up in the hospital, a seed was planted.
“Why can’t we have more stage racing like this back home in the North Island?” Tim pondered. The Pioneer (at the time NZ’s only MTB stage race) was touted to be heading north from its home in the south, so Tim parked the idea of creating one himself.
Covid-19 took a scythe to events – literally overnight it completely shredded almost every event promoter’s plans. The owners of the Pioneer didn’t just postpone their event, but completely shelved it, opening the door for Tim and his crew to create their own stage race.
“There were people who wanted to do stage racing and couldn’t because Pioneer was gone,” explains Tim. “We wanted to fill that gap.”
The ‘Epic’ name came about whilst scouting for event venues. Every site visit culminated with the narrative, “this is going to be epic”. The phrase stuck and, when combined with the volcanic nature of the areas the stages would visit, the ‘Volcanic Epic’ name was coined.
Covid’s grasp on the community loosened in late 2021, and events slowly returned to the calendar (albeit under hefty restrictions). Spirits were high heading towards a rescheduled late January 2022 date for Nduro’s premier sin- gle-day event, the Whaka 100. Unfortunately, numerous pandemic-related issues brought a last-minute cancellation, leaving the upcoming Volcanic Epic as the organisation’s final – and only – event for the summer. Again, Covid drew its sword. A fresh spike in COVID numbers, and a change in government regulations, meant they wouldn’t be able to deliver the event anywhere near the level they needed to, and the difficult decision was made to push the event out to the following year.
Reflecting on the postponement, Tim explains: “We were passengers in the whole process, but we were committed. When you enter, forty percent of your entry fees are instantly committed to an event, so there was no option to pull out.” Belinda adds, “We were still 100% committed to running the event after we got through the Covid period, to do it for the participants.”
With the commitment to go forward, new staff were hired, and a full crew was assembled. “There are six full-time staff in the team now, and we had 28 to deliver the event. We originally had 31, but we had people get Covid just before the event started, and family bereavements and emergencies and all sorts of stuff. Volcanic Epic had 28 paid staff on it, with six full-time in the end.”
The 2023 date was locked in and the entire Nduro Events team set to work preparing to finally deliver their first Volcanic Epic.
Everything was rolling towards the event as planned, and it looked like the major hurdles had been overcome and wrinkles ironed out. The weather gods didn’t want it to be that easy though, and a month out from Stage 1, Cyclone Gabrielle flexed its destructive muscle, felling a huge block of pines and closing the trails in the Craters MTB Park (Taupo), where Stage 3 was to take place. Yet another hurdle the team would have to overcome to deliver their event.
Fast forward a month and over 500 hardy souls lined up at Te Puia, in Rotorua, ready to kick off the first of four stages. It wasn’t just locals boarding the Volcanic Epic train though – post Covid, international riders were once again lining up for NZ events.
“They came from Seattle, Mexico, Canada. We had people from England, Scotland, New Caledonia, Australia. A guy from France. We’d almost forgotten about our international community since borders had been closed, but it’s fantastic to see their return,” says Tim.
The opening day was set in the hallowed lands of the Whakarewarewa trails, covering many fan favourites and setting the tone for the days to come. After a briefing and welcome, newly crowned National XC Champ, Matt Wilson, alongside a host of Australasia’s top endurance racers, accepted a Wero (Maori challenge) and it was game on. Riders headed out past the Pōhutu geyser to do battle on the trails.
“Especially in Rotorua, the cultural narrative should always be part of mountain biking. It’s not a public forest – we’re actually riding on private land that belongs to a collective of central North Island Iwi. It’s important we honour that.”
Although the event was in play, the logistical challenges continued to come. Arriving in Tokoroa after Rotorua’s opening stage, the event team dis- covered all the course markings for the following morning’s race had not only been tampered with, but the steel waratahs used to secure course arrows and marking tape had been stolen, effectively destroying their entire course. Once again, the Nduro team swung into action. Taking advice from local police, and with help from the Tokoroa MTB Club, a revised course was quickly put in place, ready for action the following morning.
“And so that’s one of the cool things with the event… we can expose a whole new group of riders to the hard work the trail organisations do. I think the benefit of this event, for Tokoroa, is we’re just going to get more bikes on their dirt, which will be better for their trails and the area in general.
“I think the biggest thing for the riders, and the biggest bit of feedback, is that Tokoroa is a revelation – they didn’t even know it existed!”
After Gabrielle had turned day three on its head, Tim’s team swung into action once again and, in a tight time frame, pivoted to a ‘Plan B’ option. The rejigged day would now see riders take on a section of Taupo’s Great Lake Trail, including two laps of the Otaketake, Orakau and K2K loop, beginning and ending in Kinloch, right on the stony shores of Lake Taupo. Post-ride swims, and ice creams from the dairy across the road, topped off a stunner of a day. Riders were pleasantly surprised that Nduro’s ‘Plan B’ ended up being an ‘A’ choice!
The fourth and final day saw riders return to the pumice-based soils of Rotorua. Rising steam and a crisp, clear morning greeted riders at the entrance to the Whakarewarewa Living Maori Village, where they assembled for their final departure. A local cultural group kicked things off, performing for the entire field as they left the start line.
“That was a farewell from their lands, and sort of a departure and cultural performance in one. That’s part of the whole experience. It’s really hard for them to go on for 40 minutes, so they did well to try and get most of the riders through a cultural experience as they embarked on their final stage.”
The Volcanic Epic uncovered new ground for many participants; be it simply getting to ride new areas, ticking off a bucket list item, or riding with a mate each day. Four days, four stages, and a lifetime of memories not only for the riders but the event team too.