Story: A Breath of Fresh Air
A biking trip to the Nepali Himalayas, with a race thrown in for good measure? Sounds like an adventure not to be missed! We had three weeks to explore, starting with the Yakru Enduro race – dubbed the highest enduro race in the world – followed by bikepacking part of the Annapurna circuit. It was a trip to explore a new part of the world, experience a completely different culture and do something a bit out of the norm.
Four-Wheel-Driving Into the Adventure: The road into the Manang region of the Annapurnas was completed in 2011 by the Nepalese army; connecting Manang to the lower valley by 13+plus hours of 4wd action, instead of the traditional seven day hike. The road has encroached on the beauty and isolation of the Marsyandi Gorge so loved by tourists, but no one can deny the benefits motorised transport brings to these mountain communities. Photo: Dane Cronin
Learning the art of Nepali Time: we quickly established there was little point in expecting to be anywhere at a certain time. We went with the tide, and some of our best cultural immersion was done waiting for the truck to be fixed or a guide to arrive. Here, we tested out the gym set of our young Nepalese host, on the roof of his teahouse. Photo: Ben Gibson
The typical view of a village in the Marsyandi Valley. Most buildings were multistorey, with unusual colour schemes and barely-straight beams. Roof tops often doubled as café terraces, giving 360 panoramic views of the surrounds. Picturesque and cosy, they were a welcome sight at the end of a day’s pedalling. Photo: Ben Gibson.
This lodge was home for the duration of the race - and was luxurious by Nepalese standards, with flush toilets and wild card hot showers. Behind the lodge is Annapurna III, towering another 4500m above us. By night, these peaks seemed even more enormous. It was pretty special to be able to relax, unwind and reflect in the evening below these beauties, with a cup of Masala tea or hot lemon in hand. Photo: Dane Cronin
Into the Race Stages: Hiking trails and donkey tracks became nduro stages for the day, borrowing ancient paths of transport through the mountains and valleys. Racing blind in foreign terrain felt very non-racey and was always a balance between grip and speed, as we came to terms with moon-like dry dust. Photo: Dane Cronin
The race stages took us through a cultural slideshow, through ruins, shrines, villages and monasteries. Racing here was a stark contrast to the lives, culture and religion of the Nepalese. I felt very privileged to be able to have the choice to ride my mountain bike through these places and wonder about the thousands of years of change these ruins have seen. Photo: Dane Cronin
Swapping out timing chips for front rolls, we left our newfound friends from the Yakru race and pedalled up-valley to begin the second part of the trip. We were blessed with sunny days pedalling amongst mountains, and without a race team to support us; we felt much closer to people and the place. We all embraced the change in pace as we enjoyed and appreciated the scenery, with nowhere to be but in the moment. Photo: Ben Gibson
Off, up and Away: This is what most of our hill climbing looked like. None of us had done anything at altitude before and it was a whole new experience and pace working with what our lungs and heart could pull out of the oxygen-thin air. We didn’t mind too much, it was all part of the trip and gave us plenty of opportunity to take in the scenery and surrounds. Photo: Ben Gibson
Risk vs Reward: We spotted a side trail on the map, offering an alternative route to the road to our lunch destination. It certainly was an alternative, coming across this landslip with a small path leading across it. Not wanting to turn back and lose the elevation we had already gained, there seemed little other option than to cross it – which was more challenging for some than others. The reward though? A morning of riding glorious single-track through the forest, without another soul in site. Photo: Ben Gibson
As hoped, we found some really sweet sections of single-track to ride. With the oxygen deprived climbing, the descents were all the more satisfying and had us savouring every turn, even with front rolls and loaded packs. Given more time, there would have been many more side trails and areas to explore with similar potential. Photo: Robin Pieper
Dodging Shrines on the Trail: There are many of these Buddhist outposts on-trail around Nepal, and it is Buddhist practice to only pass these on the left, so that the shrine is on your right. Doing so gives good karma to the traveller, as passing on the right conversely gives bad karma. Touching the shrine is only allowed with your right ‘clean’ hand, for the same reasons. Photo: Ben Gibson
The high point of our trip, Tilicho Lake. Sitting at 5000m it’s claimed as the highest lake in the world (unconfirmed). Either way, it felt like a great achievement and stunning to look around and see snow, rock and ice literally as far as the eye can see. In New Zealand, there is almost always a view of lowlands, but not here. Earlier in the season, it’s possible to pass from here over to Jomson, but not with the lowering temperatures this late in the season. To get to Tilicho we needed an early start to avoid the wind, and even in the late morning a bone-chilling ‘breeze’ had already started. Photo: Ben Gibson
Descending from Tilicho lake, as the trail stretches out in front of us along the scree. We shared the trail with regular donkey trains, locals and tourists alike, and the trail was deceptively steep and slow going. Luckily bikes made the descents much quicker and more fun, although some of the exposure and technical corners were met by either cheers or concerns from other travellers. Photo: Ben Gibson
On the way Home: Crossing the Marsyandi River over one of the many single span swing bridges, connecting villages on the true left of the river by foot only to the ‘main road’. In the background, Heaven’s Door rises above us, a single slab of rock, rising 1500 vertical metres from the river. The geological masterpiece serves as a natural barrier (or ‘door’) between the temperate lower gorge of the Marsyandi River, and the montane plateau we are on now. Photo: Ben Gibson
Bitter-sweet feeling arriving back in Besi Sahar, two weeks after we set out, with dusty bikes, empty legs and full hearts. After travelling through small villages among big mountains, it was a shock to the system to have busy streets and air thick with exhaust and oxygen. Photo: Ben Gibson
The last stop of our trip, visiting Boudhanath, a Buddhist Stupa. The largest Stupa in Nepal, it was a popular attraction for monks, worshippers and tourists alike. It really struck home the depth of religion in this country and the impact it has on shaping the culture and country. What an enriching experience to have cycled amongst the tallest peaks of the world and shared the culture and villages of the Nepalese. Photo: Ben Gibson
Words: Robin Pieper
Images: Dane Cronin, Ben Gibson & Robin Pieper
Story: Destination: Wanaka Pt. 1
It’s 6:30am and I’m in the office punching out emails. I’m massively behind, having just arrived back from a week out at Crankworx, and I’m about to be out for another five days. Half an hour passes before my ride to the airport picks me up and we’re out. Ten minutes into the drive and we’ve stopped for diesel, listened to the last eight minutes of an audiobook about the founder of Nike, and now we’re accidentally bullying our way into a queue of Auckland’s finest rush-hour traffic. “The people behind us probably think I’m such an asshole,” she says. “We’re in a truck, it’s expected” I reply.
So far, this experience is a little different to my usual airport Uber - but then again, Casey Brown isn’t your typical Uber driver.
The rest of our run goes smoothly and it’s almost a little unnerving. It’s at about this point in a trip to the airport where I remember what I’ve forgotten, hit unexpected traffic, or start stressing because I can’t remember what I’ve forgotten. This time around though, it’s all smooth sailing – the traffic is flowing and we’re chatting about a shirt Casey designed, as we cruise along the motorway.
I guess I should point out what we’re actually doing! Well, a few months ago, I was invited to visit Wanaka to check out Cardrona, ride the new Bike Glendhu, sample a couple of the local eateries and explore the region. A few setbacks kept bumping the trip back, but eventually we locked in the week after Crankworx - which was perfect, as Casey was in town. We convinced her to re-book her flights home and stay on for an extra week with us, then roped in a videographer, Haimona; and photographer, Callum, to come chase us around.
Back to the present and we’ve hit the airport; I check us in while Casey returns her rental car. Bag drop goes smoothly, we find Haimona, who has flown in from Gisborne, and breeze through security. I always set the goal of grabbing a coffee between passing through security and boarding, but the reality is that I’m usually late, so I have to settle for an average-at-best airline coffee instead. The smooth run continues, though, and before you know it we’re kickin’ it at a coffee shop, browsing Canadian SPCA websites on the hunt for a buddy for Casey’s dog, Snuff, before piling onto the plane and making our way down south.
I love the flight into Queenstown. I lived there for a while after high school and every time I fly in, it feels a little like going home. Descending into the mountains served as a great reminder for what a rad few days I was in for - and what a rad week I’d just had at Crankworx. We touched down, repeated the airport procedure in reverse and were faced with our first challenge: getting two bike boxes, two camera bags, a drone case, three people’s worth of luggage, and said three people into a minivan. A bit of Tetris and we got there, before hitting the road to Wanaka.
We were due to spend our first two nights in an alpine apartment on Cardrona, and had originally planned to cruise up the mountain, dump our luggage, then venture into Wanaka to grab some lunch and some groceries. By the time we hit the access road, though, I was running on fumes and posed the idea of punching straight through to Wanaka. Casey was deep in a nap by this point, so Haimona and I made the call and kept punching. Once we hit Wanaka, we hit Big Fig for the first of two visits over our stay. After a much needed lunch, we did a quick grocery shop, struggled to pack everything into the van, then hooked a U-turn and headed for Cardies.
As you turn off the highway onto the Cardrona access road, you’re met with 14km of unsealed gravel, up the side of a mountain. Our buddies at Toyota definitely didn’t have these kinds of roads in mind when they designed the van we’d rented for the week, so we took it easy and cruised our way up the hill.
As far as ski fields and, as a result, lift-access bike parks, go Cardrona is pretty unique. Typically, base buildings are found at the base of a ski-field, as the name would suggest. Cardrona’s different though, with the base building located halfway up the slope. What’s rad about this, is that as we pulled into the carpark, we could see riders tearing up the network of trails that run down the mountainside. By this point, it was pretty late in the day – we must have been pushing 3pm - and with all our bikes still packed up and the lifts only running ‘til 4pm, we decided to pack-in, build our bikes, then have a chill afternoon. This was where we ran into our first problem: the 8mm I had packed to do up/remove my pedals wasn’t up for the task of tightening pedals, and quickly stripped. Casey’s multi-tool had everything but an 8mm, so we ventured into the bike park to find one. Trust the media - and an athlete - to come unprepared! After this, we retreated to our alpine apartment for naps while Haimona broke out the drone to get some rad location shots. Upon waking, we went for a walk down to the base building to figure out our dinner plans. Cardrona have a restaurant on-mountain, making the choice easy – and after all the travelling we’d done, I wasn’t too keen on driving back down the mountain to visit the Cardrona Hotel! Whilst making our dinner reservation, we found out that our stay happened to coincide with a stargazing tour, something we had to check out.
Our dinner was nothing short of phenomenal, and our photographer for this trip, Callum Wood, showed up right on time. If you’re visiting Cardies, whether staying the night or just spending a day on the mountain, you’ve gotta check out The Mezz. We had the entire restaurant to ourselves, bar one table that left pretty soon after we arrived, and the food was amazing. As we ate, the excitement started to build – we’d made it to the South and we were excited to explore.
Stuffed full of food, we made our way back to our mountain apartment to hang out for an hour or two before we embarked on our tour. It was super nice to have our own space on the mountain. Staying in hotels isn’t bad by any means, but it was rad to have a kitchen, bathroom and living room to hang out in without the worry of other guests. On these trips, you tend to be in-and-out of places pretty quick, and we always have a ton of gear including bikes, camera equipment, regular clothes and riding gear, so it was rad to not have to lug our stuff across a hotel, as was the case the week before when we were at Crankworx.
We dug around the apartment and found all the board games Cardrona had graciously supplied, and by the time we started making the final decision of what to play, it was time to wrap up and head out to go stargazing. We met our host, Dan, at the base building and all piled into a van to head across the mountain to our stargazing spot. Earlier on in the day, we’d been told Dan was from Hawaii, so we spent all afternoon and evening trying to figure out if we’d be in for a super low-key Hawaii-style star tour, with plenty of shakas, or a more educational experience. As we unloaded from the van at Captain’s, we dove into the café and got kitted out with some huge winter jackets before heading out to Dan’s telescope, to admire the night sky. The moon was pretty close to full, so whilst the conditions weren’t the best for admiring the Milky Way and the many nebulas in the night sky, we were able to get a good look at the moon. I’ve got to say, if you haven’t looked at the moon through a telescope, you definitely should – it’s unreal to see. Dan showed us stars and constellations throughout the night and, to be honest, it was one of the standout experiences of the trip for me - I think mostly because it’s something I’d never have considered doing. Once we were all frozen solid, we headed back up to Captain’s Café for hot chocolate, before piling into a van and heading back to our apartment, where we all headed for bed.
Good light is always a priority when you’ve got a photographer and videographer in tow, so we rose early the next morning to begin our first day on the bikes. I had a meeting in town, so whilst we all left at the same time, Casey and our content team headed up the hill on their bikes and I headed down it. As I drove down the mountain, I couldn’t help but admire the incredible sunrise, and I can tell you now that I spent the next few hours wishing I was up the mountain.
As I turned back onto the Cardrona access road a little while later, I was beyond excited to get some ride time in and drove our rental van as fast as I could (which was still a good nudge under the speed limit) up the mountain. Today’s agenda consisted of exploring Cardrona’s trail network, before tearing down the Peak to Pub trail to finish our day off with dinner at the famous Cardrona Hotel. I hadn’t ridden at Cardrona since their opening season, and I’d heard nothing but good about the park since, so I couldn’t wait to get riding. Because we were visiting on a weekday, we practically had the place to ourselves and didn’t once have to wait for the lift. How good?! Before we took off up the mountain, we caught up with Graham Dunbar, or ‘Spy’ as he’s better known, for a quick coffee. Graham’s been working on the mountain for as long as anyone and knows it like the back of his hand, so he was able to give us all sorts of valuable insight that we otherwise would’ve missed out on. For what it’s worth, the team at Cardrona came through once again and the coffee was next level.
Our first run took us right down the guts of the park, following close-ish to the Whitestar Express – the main lift in the bike park - coming down Grasshopper into Hi Vis, before making our way to the lift via Low Vis. This made for a solid Grade 3 run down the mountain before diving off into the advanced Low Vis trail. We spent the rest of the morning tearing up and down the mountain and, just as we were about to cruise back to our apartment for lunch, I got chatting to Cam, one of the bike coaches up Cardrona, and ended up putting in one last quick lap as the rest of the team headed back. The riding at Cardies is nothing short of rad. I love riding in the woods, don’t get me wrong, but there’s something about riding down the tree-less mountain that’s breathtaking. The views are amazing, and you constantly want to stop on the trail to admire vistas that seemingly go on forever. The best part about the lack of trees, though, is the ability to build almost anything you want. The main natural obstacle on Cardrona is rocks, which are easy enough to work into trails, and the end result is a trail network full of fast, sweeping berms, all the rock rollers, rock drops and rock gardens you could dream of and, for the most part, plenty of tussock to cushion your fall if you come off. I feel like the South Island, particularly the lower South, has a reputation for being gnarly Grade 5 riding, but that couldn’t be further from the truth – and a rider of any level would find plenty to enjoy up the mountain at Cardrona.
We had a little downtime after lunch – we’d been up since about 5am, after all - so opted to get in a quick afternoon nap (yes, naps became a theme of our trip) before heading up the hill to get a couple more laps in before taking on the Peak to Pub – something we’d been counting down to all day. The Peak to Pub name sort of tells you all you need to know: it’s a ride from the top of Cardrona to the Cardrona Hotel at the bottom of the mountain. We started off at the top of Whitestar Express and headed down Arcadia, to the bottom. From there, we jumped onto Crankshaft, marking the start of the Peak to Pub journey. The journey down Peak to Pub is awesome, and has you tearing through tussock on a trail that lends itself to let-off-the-brakes-and-hang-on riding. Unfortunately though, our fun came to an abrupt end as the lower half of the trail (the part we were all looking forward to most) was shut due to pest control. We considered pushing on anyway, but when we noticed the ‘firearms in use’ warning on the sign, decided better of it. In the end, we took off down the access road and decided to figure out how to fit our three bikes in the back of our van once we’d had dinner and a beer.
If you’ve been through Cardrona and haven’t stopped off at the Cardrona Hotel for a photo at the very least, I hate to be the one to tell you, but you did your trip down South wrong. The Cardrona Hotel is one of New Zealand’s oldest hotels, and I’d argue the most iconic. Built way back when in 1863, the Cardona Hotel was one of four hotels in Cardrona offering accommodation to gold miners and travellers. The hotel survived through to 1961, before the doors shut after the owner passed away. By 1983, the hotel had been restored, coming back from the brink of being knocked down, and has been taking care of those passing through ever since. We wheeled our bikes through the pub and out back to the garden. Walking into the pub is like taking a step back in time and the vibe was super relaxed, even though the pub was fairly busy. It was a beautiful autumn night, so we opted for a spot outside by the fire and were quickly greeted by a Jack Russell, who spent the rest of the evening hanging around our table in the hopes one of us would drop some food. We later found out he and his parents are regulars. After a meal you wouldn’t complain about from a restaurant - let alone a small country hotel - and a Cardrona Ale or two, we headed back to the car to begin the game of Tetris. We had three bikes, four people and two people’s worth of camera gear to get into a mini-van that was arguably closer in size to a station wagon than it was a van – and, once again, no mutli-tool to take any wheels off. After stuffing gloves, knee pads, jackets and shoes between the bikes, we managed to get them all in and then just had to figure out how to get the people in around them. After some creative manoeuvring, we got everyone in the van and began the slow trundle up the access road. We had a 4:30am wake up call scheduled for the next morning, so once we got up the hill we packed up and hit the sack. Stay tuned for Part 2 coming soon...
Words: Cam Baker
Images: Callum Wood
Story: The Zen and Art of Bikepacking
In retail they say convenience is king. That’s what global retail giant Amazon built its brand around. It bet that if it could make shopping more convenient it would trump almost all other factors. When it comes to bike-packing my mantra is this - comfort is king. I’m fast discovering that you can conquer almost anything and ride for almost any distance if you can just stay comfortable, and so Tour Aotearoa preparation for me has become less focussed on grinding out miles with the goal of building leg strength, but grinding out enough miles to trigger the next factor of discomfort.
Take your average beginner cyclist. They get on a bike having never ridden before, and likely it’s a cheap bike with a nasty seat. Within five minutes they are complaining about a sore bum. That’s typical, and they have triggered the first round of discomfort that they need to conquer before they can move forward. They can either suffer till they get well-formed callouses on their butt-cheeks, or they can buy a pair of padded bike shorts. If you’re interested in long distance bike-packing such as the Tour Aotearoa, you have probably been around bikes long enough that you have accumulated a few items that can help keep the comfort levels high on your normal one to two-hour ride, but what I’m finding surprising is the strange things that start to crop up when you start to go for extended time in the saddle.
That good seat you bought that was comfortable for two hours of mountain biking turns to agony at the three-hour mark. Those SPD shoes that have kept you going for the last eight years force shooting pains in to your feet after the 100km mark. Your hands go numb, your shorts chafe and your helmet feels like an oven.
You can conquer almost anything if you can just stay comfortable, but that is no easy task in this game. Going in to this I had read up about people finding their hands going numb. This sounded a bit strange. After all, I had been mountain-biking for 20 years and surely the rough jarring of mountain bike terrain would be harder on your hands than anything else? We didn’t even have suspension then! But sure enough, my hands started to go numb too during training rides. A switch to the Jones Bar, a set of aero bars, and an extra layer of bar tape over the grips seems to have solved this problem. Next thing to tackle was the chafing. Riding for one day was no trouble at all in the chafe department, but only an hour into a second day and all of a sudden it’s like my lycra is lined with sandpaper. Strange. The aptly name Butt Butter quickly sorted this out, but no sooner has one irritation gone away than another seems to arise. The last two training rides I went out for were a perfect example of this. For some reason at the 40km mark my left foot started to get intense shooting, cramp-like pains. I had to get off the bike, take the shoe off, and wriggle my toes for five minutes before I could continue. Strange. It came on with no warning, and went away just as fast. A few days later out on another ride and as I look down at my speedo tick over from 39.9km to 40.0, all of a sudden the same shooting pains return. I was off the bike in the grass wiggling my toes in the exact same middle of nowhere spot as the time before. Weird. On top of this you have the strange way sleeping in a tent on a one-inch mattress can leaving you feeling as stiff as a plank, and now you’ve got to get dressed and jump on the bike for another eight hours. A little yoga and stretching goes a long way as it turns out!
And this is what has surprised me most about all of this. I am far from being at any sort of extraordinary level of fitness, but I’m surprised at just how many kilometres I can crank out if I can just stay comfortable. When I talk to people and tell them I’m riding the length of the country, they have this kind of astounded look on their face like I am some sort of Olympic athlete or something. Actually maybe the astounded look is because they look at me, sum up my mediocre-at-best physique, the combination of the task and the distinctly average human specimen they see before them. Maybe it’s more of a quizzical ‘has he actually gone a bit mad’, extrapolating out the five minutes of pain they felt last time they sat on a bike seat out over 25 days continuously. But I soon find out that they don’t know what I know. You can conquer anything if you can just stay comfortable.
So right now I’m actually in this kind of sadistic training mode. Literally. Yes, I’m trying to get a little bit of tone, a little bit of definition in the calf muscles, but more than that I’m actively looking to ride long enough, far enough simply to trigger the next round of pain, the next round of discomfort. Because at this stage of the Tour I can do something about it. I can buy Butt Butter, I can fit aero bars, I can tweak and adjust and make minute alterations in the hope of creating the ultimate Zen bike set up upon which all riding is good, all riding is calm, all riding is at peace.
Of course then I might start to notice that my legs are actually really really sore.
Words & Photography: Lance Pilbrow
Trail Builder: Backcountry Trust - Trail Fund Tells All
A few years ago, the Department of Conservation approached Trail Fund with an unprecedented query – would we be interested in collaborating with trampers and hunters in maintaining huts and tracks on public conservation land?
It was a bit of a leap for everyone involved but also the start of something great. Trail Fund was a relatively new organization, albeit with experienced people, and mountain bikers and trampers hadn’t always seen eye-to-eye on how tracks should be used. It’s safe to say there was a little suspicion on all sides.
The result of this, after many meetings and e-mails along the way, was the Outdoor Recreation Consortium – a partnership between Trail Fund NZ, Federated Mountain Clubs (FMC) and the New Zealand Deerstalkers’ Association (NZDA). The creation of this new entity was key to obtaining funding from the Community Conservation Partnership Fund, and it received a significant amount. Through that, Trail Fund has been able to distribute and manage funding of many mountain bike projects, from the Missing Link project above Queenstown, to the Craigieburn Trails west of Christchurch, to Te Iringa track in the mid-North Island.
“Along the way, links between our organisations have grown and deepened,” says Trail Fund secretary and co-founder Nessa Lynch, who worked closely with FMC and NZDA on application and allocation processes. “We’ve realised that trampers, hunters, alpine recreationalists, and mountain bikers have more in common than we do differences.
“Many, if not all of us, are multi-recreationalists and, as a result, there’s been learning on all sides.”
The three partners have now moved to establish the Backcountry Trust, which formalises the relationship between Trail Fund, NZDA and FMC in facilitating and supporting volunteer-led maintenance of huts and tracks on public conservation land. This will allow centralised administration and management of grants.
Nessa Lynch and Guy Wynn-Williams (Christchurch- Ground Effect) will represent Trail Fund’s interests on the Trust. Three years of funding has been secured from the Department of Conservation.
What does this mean for volunteers? Trail Fund will continue its core business of funding, volunteer support and advocacy. This Backcountry Trust funding will be available for projects on public conservation land. The Backcountry Trust’s first funding round will be in February 2018, and existing grants are transitioning to the Trust structure.
Have a project in mind?
Start thinking about any projects you might have on public conservation (DOC) land. The focus is generally on maintenance and upgrade of existing tracks rather than new builds, but the Trust is keen to hear about any ideas you might have. We’d love to hear from mountain bikers who would be keen to look after huts, as well as tracks. The vision of the Trust is that groups in an area would collaborate on projects.
In related news, Trail Fund has also made the decision this year to affiliate to Federated Mountain Clubs. This affords us access to advocacy and representation on issues such as land access, and gives mountain bikers a voice in the wider outdoor recreation community.
We are keen to advance opportunities for mountain bike access on public conservation land, and happy to hear of any ideas or issues that you have. Email us on grants@trailfund.org.nz
Words: Meagan Robertson
Images: Callum Wood
Trail Builder: Two Decades of Deliverance
Liberation. Release. Freedom. Since 1999, the aptly named singletrack has delivered all three sentiments, as well as a few dozen others, to hundreds of riders in Wellington, its surrounds and even much further afield. Located in dense bush, and rarely fully dry, Deliverance was the brainchild of an enthusiastic group of friends who loved mountain biking and wanted to contribute to its evolution in the Capital.
“I can still remember how it started,” says Tama Easton, who worked at the nearby Mud Cycles bike shop in the ‘90s and was one of the half dozen builders committed from the get go. “We peered down from Wright’s Hill to South Karori with the enthusiasm of explorers setting foot in fertile unchartered country. With little to no experience, but all the eagerness in the world, we set out to build a much-needed connection that we thought would be done in about three weekends.”
With machetes and shovels in hand, Mike Houghton aka Mudzy (the owner and namesake of Mud Cycles), Jono Baddiley, Tom Werry, Seth Blum, Ricky Pincott and Tama couldn’t wait to get stuck in.
“It was the start of a golden era in Wellington mountain biking,” says Jono. “It really felt like a turning point in those days – mountain biking was approved on Mount Victoria, Wellington hosted the World Cup XC and building at Makara Peak was underway, with three singletrack trails completed.”
Jono and Tama admit the crew didn’t know much about trail building at that point, but there was no lack of desire to learn. Even after it became apparent that completing the trail was going to take much, much longer – and require some proper tools – the eagerness didn’t wane.
“You get to a stage where you’ve committed so much time and effort that you don’t want to stop, you just can’t,” says Tama. “So we just kept pushing forward with this cheerful optimism that it would get done. We didn’t know any trail building theory but had a good rhythm going. We’d work out where the track was heading, tear into the dense bush and vines, someone would ride the new section, and if they deemed it “almost rideable” we could move onto planning the next section.”
When something wasn’t “almost rideable”, the crew would have a few goes to see if they were just having an off day. “There was this 8 metre shoot that we ended up calling Satan’s Crack, and after a few too many tries we decided it might actually kill people, so we chose an alternate line.” In reality, completing the build took about 18 months and on Easter weekend in 1999, Deliverance was declared open.
“By the time we went ‘right, this is done’, it was was deemed “rideable”, which meant we were sick of trail building and theoretically you could ride a bike from one end to the other,” says Tama.“Two weeks later James broke his arm on ‘The Chute’, starting a grand tradition of Deliverance chewing up and spitting out hapless riders. Luckily, Don McLeod came along and put hundreds of hours towards upgrading the trail to a more accessible level.”
Not that it doesn’t still spit out riders, hapless or not. “It was built to be a feral trail and 20 years later, it’s still feral,” says Jono. “It’s always an achievement to get all the way down without dabbing.”
As if to prove a point, at the 20-year anniversary event in early May – which was attended by dozens of Deliverance disciples – Ricky, who helped build the trail and has ridden it hundreds of times, broke his wrist and ankle. “What can I say? It keeps you on your toes… or breaks them.”
While breaking riders wasn’t his goal, Tama, who came up from Nelson for the anniversary, says it’s great to know so many riders have honed their skills on a trail he feels such a connection with. “You can tell that it’s still loved, still ridden and still feral in places – I bought my first full suspension bike with the intent to ride it, and I hope it’s inspired others to do the same.I would highly recommend taking part in trail building – whether it’s the full shebang or just a section. It’s pretty special to, 10-20 years later, say I helped make this and thousands of people have enjoyed it.”
Words: Meagan Robertson
Images: Mike Hopkins
Story: Guilty As Charged: eBike Etiquette
One of the great things about any flavour of mountain biking, is its freedom. Outside the realms of competition, its lack of rules and regulations contribute to expanding the fun-factor of merely riding in the great outdoors. There are a few unwritten rules of the jungle, though; some obvious to anyone with a bit of common sense or riding experience; and others which are more abstract. The growing popularity of eBikes on NZ trails adds another dimension to the mix of what is considered ‘proper’ trail etiquette. Although I’d never be arrogant enough draw a line in the sand and say you must do this or that, there are factors at play with eBikes being a valid and growing part of our mountain biking culture, and these are changing some of the previous long-standing courtesies.
A significant one is labelling other riders. You know the drill; you rock up to a trail head and size up any other riders there - trying to judge their ability by the kit they’re wearing, how pro-looking their bike setups are, and that indefinable confidence some riders exude. All this helps determine the self-seeding pecking order of who should head off down the trail first. We’re still at a stage where there are plenty of self-important elitists who swear they’ll never taint their riding pedigree by being seen astride a motor-assisted mountain bike. Woe betide any E-bike rider who arrives at a downhill trailhead at the same time as one of these purists, as they would instantly be tagged as old, lazy or just a cheat for making their climbing easier. That is a mistake, though. As a literal example - I’m aware of several local hotshots who spend their time equally between their regular bikes and their motor-assisted ones. If one of these guys is at the start of your favourite Grade 5 trail it doesn’t matter which bike they’re on, they’re going to beat most riders to the end of it.
On the flip side, E-bike riders shouldn’t gauge other riders by their own standards. Sure, eBikes are supremely capable, and in the hands of a skilled rider are quite the rocketship on descents, even when not pedalling. But just because an eBike rider can ride fast, doesn’t mean their concept of ‘fast’ matches up with other riders they share the trail with. I am thinking particularly of a different couple of local riders I know, one who is an elite triathlete with great mountain bike skills, and the other who successfully races at elite level across DH, Enduro and XC disciplines. I reckon they’d give the average eBike rider a run for their money on almost any style of trail, except for an outright gravel road climb.
One of the points of difference when riding an E-bike is the sheer number of riders you’ll pass on climbs of all descriptions, from gravel roads to single-track. When riding an eBike, I’ve occasionally found a cheery ‘G’day’ is received with a bit of a grunt when passing riders on regular bikes. Sometimes, there will even be a mumble about cheating or some such nonsense. On particularly busy days in the forest, I’d try to minimise the effect by dialling down the motor assist or even turning it completely off. This serves to both reduce the noise of the motor whirring away to make the E-bike presence less obvious, and to pass the rider in question at a more moderate pace. There is no real requirement to do this, it’s just a small element of trying to be aware of, and courteous to, other riders.
Those aforementioned hotshots I was speaking of are at the stage of getting bells for their E-bikes. Although efficient - and even essential - for commuters, there is no denying that a bell is pretty uncool by most mountain bike standards. But… these guys are passing people so often, the bell serves a purpose to gently say, ‘hey, I’m here and I’m coming through’, without needing to engage in a more direct verbal interaction such as, ‘hey, how’s it goin’? On your right’. A gentle ‘ding ding’ sound should mitigate some of the mumbled comments about cheaters
Just riding an E-bike doesn’t automatically make the rider polite and aware of their fellow forest users though. I’ve also seen the opposite in effect: a family of recreational riders on rental E-bikes. I’m pretty sure they were recreational - their attire of Canterbury rugby jerseys, short shorts and running shoes kind of gave them away. Nothing at all wrong with that, but there was plenty wrong with their riding manner. Their newness to mountain biking was further evidenced by their disregard of other riders around them. They were having a great time, to be sure - grins plastered on their faces as they wove between the riders on regular bikes, on the climb to one of the most heavily trafficked intersections in Rotorua’s Redwood Forest trail network. With speeds two or three times faster than that of anyone else around them, the potential for bringing down a rider was high. They got away with it. This time. The moral of that story is that E-bike riders have a responsibility to be aware of other riders around them and tailor their speed accordingly. Especially as they generally have more available speed on tap at any given time.
Don’t be tempted to make jokes at the expense of E-bike riders who need to team up in order to hoist their hefty rigs onto their bike racks or the back of their utes. There may well come a time when you make use of the ability of a rider with E-bike power to tow you uphill or to a ride’s end. I’ve used a simple makeshift set-up myself, so I can attest to its efficiency. All it takes is a couple of spare innertubes linked together, one end slung over the seatpost of an E-bike, the other wrapped around the bars and then held in place under the rider’s hand on the grip. The rider being towed on their regular bike, whether it be because of a mechanical issue, injury or any other reason, will be in for an effortless trip to their destination. In my use of the technique, I was towing a photographer with his 20kg bag of kit on his regular bike up a sizeable gravel road to get to a photo location. Left to our own devices I would have taken a fraction of the time on the E-bike, and been left waiting while he battled uphill. As it was, we were able to easily roll up the hill at 20kph.
Don’t get too smug, joking that when an E-bike rider’s battery runs flat they’re stuffed. Sure, riding a heavy E-bike with no power is tougher than riding a regular bike, but it’s not wildly impossible by any means. I’ve done it myself, run an E-bike flat because I was having too much fun seeing how many technical descending trails I could fit into one day (I can’t answer the question of how many though, as I was having so much fun I lost count). The last hour of my ride that day was using the lowest of minimal power to eke out the final remnants of battery to get out of the forest, then dead flat battery riding the half hour of roads back to my house. It was a little slower on the climbs of course, but not ridiculously so. Therefore, don’t think an E-bike rider’s ride ends if the battery goes flat.
Them and Us. No matter which side of the equation you see yourself fitting into, there are perceptions about each – often completely ignorant. Ultimately, a rider’s abilities can lie anywhere on the spectrum from beginner to local legend, regardless of whether their bike that day is motor-assisted or not. One of the unspoken rules of mountain biking remains, and applies to both acoustic and E-bike riders: be nice to each other out there, we’re all mountain bikers at the end of the day.
Words & Photography: Nick Lambert
Story: Mountains & Music - The Story of earSHOTS
I love a good coming-to-be story, especially when the topic on hand is a Kiwi business. I think it’s something ingrained in all of us New Zealanders – we love seeing our own punching above their weight. I think there’s something especially rad about Kiwi companies trying to make their mark in our mountain biking community – riding is what we all love, and when a company tries to make that experience better for us, it’s hard for me not to get excited about it.
Along with riding, music is a big passion of mine and I spent a decent chunk of my teens playing in janky bars, community halls and houses around New Zealand. It’s tricky to combine riding and music – all the headphones I’ve tried have either been uncomfortable, constantly fall out, or both. There’s the option of strapping a speaker to myself or my bike, but I’ve never been able to bring myself to do it, knowing that for many, being away from the noise of our modern world is one of the things that draws them to riding. When local company, earSHOTS, reached out asking if I’d like to test out their headphones, I couldn’t say no and whilst waiting for the headphones to arrive, took it upon myself to find out more about earSHOTS and how they came to be.
When you’re designing headphones, there’s a few things you need to consider, especially if you plan on using them mountain biking. You don’t need me to tell you how rough a mountain bike trail is, so obviously retention is a big factor. Along with sweating, we’re also outside and exposed to the elements when we ride, so being durable is key. We go through saddles, shorts, helmets and more ‘til we find the gear that makes us most comfortable, so comfort is a big one and lastly, mountain biking is a dynamic sport made up of a bunch of different movements, so it’s important that our range of motion isn’t affected.
Banded headphones would help with retention but are obviously next to impossible to wear with a helmet so they’re a no go. I’ve had okay luck with in-ear earphones, but they’ve cancelled out any-and-all ambient noise and even then, retention is average. I’ve tried earphones targeted at active markets with the loop around your ear and all that fun stuff, but they’ve all had plastic arms that have been at best, tolerable, but not tolerable enough for me to use them regularly. When all was said and done, I decided riding wind rushing past my ears and sounds of nature would be my go-to.
James Bell-Booth, founder of earSHOTS, found himself in a similar boat. James was training for the T42, an event that requires a fair bit of fitness as I’m sure a few of you know, and was over spending his hours training in silence. Music, or podcasts, can make the monotony of training a lot more bearable particularly for endurance rides, and after trying a ton of headphones that were available, also came to the conclusion that there were no good options available. James wanted to create a set of headphones that were comparable to a watch, in the sense that they’re set-and-forget – once they’re on, you don’t need to worry about them.
Armed with a vision, James re-mortgaged the house, drew together some funds and hired some product designers, a move that didn’t work out in the end and left him empty handed. James wanted to utilise a magnet system to help retain the headphones, and along with co-founder John Grayson, came to the conclusion that they’d need to do a lot more protyping and development to get the headphones made before working on a final design. This started with James buying some moulding plastic and teaching himself how to create moulds by hand on his dining room table, which eventually moved into 3D-printed designs, before finally moving into real prototyping, so to speak.
One of the big hurdles James and John faced was the development of their magnet retention system. The earSHOTS have two magnets: one in the speaker that sits over your ear, and one in the part that loops over and sits behind your ear. These magnets had to be strong enough to keep the earSHOT from falling out, but not so strong that it was uncomfortable and pinching at your ear, which as you can imagine is a pretty fine balance. As well as the magnet strength, it was important to make sure their prototypes were comfortable on a wide range of people and over a long period of time, given that when you’re hurting and trying to push through, the last thing you want to be thinking about is how uncomfortable your headphones are and finally, they had to make sure that the headphones could stand up to the elements, not only did James and John have sweat to contend with, but they also had to consider anything and everything that mother nature could throw their way. When combined with their passion to create a set of headphones unlike anything else the world has seen, it took a total of five years’ worth of development to get to where earSHOTS are today.
earSHOTS now have a team of staff scattered all around the globe, however their roots are still firmly planted in New Zealand with James based in Palmerston North, with the Arapuke Mountain Bike Park pretty much on his doorstep, and their design team are based out of Queenstown. earSHOTS have opted to operate on a direct-to-consumer basis, meaning they charge less for their product as there’s no middleman to feed, and more importantly, they can engage directly with their customers. This benefits us, the consumer, greatly as it means our feedback gets back to the people who can use that feedback to then improve future iterations of earSHOTS, along with cutting out waiting times for warranty issues and giving you the benefit of working with a customer services team that know their product inside out. They’ll be tackling the NZ and Australian markets first and are currently working on getting some pretty rad Kiwis on board as ambassadors, before pushing into areas further afield.
Now that you know a little about earSHOTS and their coming to be, let’s talk about how they perform.
As mentioned earlier, James sent me a pair of earSHOTS about four weeks ago now, and I’ve been using them plenty out on the bike and even around the house instead of my Sonos system. The first thing I noticed was the packaging. In a world that’s becoming overrun with single use plastics, I was stoked to see the box the earSHOTS came in is made of recycled materials and is obviously recyclable itself. Upon opening the box, I was then stoked on the lack of cluttler, presented with nothing more than the earSHOTS case and the charging cable underneath. No instructions, instead they’ve printed a link on the inside of the box that takes you through to a tutorial section on their site , although the headphones are super simple to use and I managed to figure them out and get them paired and running without needing to check ‘em out. Points for simplicity.
The supplied case has two purposes, the obvious purpose of storing your earSHOTS, and a second purpose as acting as the charger, even featuring an internal battery so you can charge on the go. I’m pretty good at losing anything smaller than my phone, so the charging case is perfect.I take it with me whenever I go riding not only because it gives me somewhere safe to leave the earSHOTS once I get back to the car, but also because I know it means my earSHOTS will be charged when I reach for ‘em next. At home I keep the earSHOTS on my desk for those times I need to block out the dog barking or the neighbours kids, so I plug the case into my computer once a week to keep it charged and I’m yet to run the battery on the case, or the earSHOTS completely flat.
Now onto the important part: the earSHOTS. The earSHOTS are designed as earbud, meaning the speaker sits at the entrance of your ear canal, versus in it, as in-ear headphones would, and feature a rubberised loop that goes over your ear and sits behind it. The speaker and the backing both feature magnets, which are strong enough to be attracted to one another through your ear, but not so strong that you can feel it. The magnet system is earSHOTS solution to the retention problem, and I can confirm it works a treat. Each earSHOT features a small button for pairing and powering-on, along with a small LED to give you the status of your unit.
In terms of performance, the earSHOTS are awesome. The earSHOTS are thin and flexible through the middle, so they’ll conform to the top of your ears and the rubber outer doesn’t feel uncomfortable against your skin. As the earSHOTS are an earbud design, there’s no pressure inside your ear and they don’t feel intrusive whatsoever. In terms of sound quality, the earSHOTS deliver a good, balanced sound. Out of the box, I found they sounded a little ‘hollow’ through the mid-range, with highs that were a little bit more pronounced then I’d like, but after a quick tweak of Spotify’s EQ I got them dialled in to a setting that I was stoked with. It is probably worth noting that I’m lucky enough to have owned some really nice guitar amps and speakers over my time, so I’m pretty picky when it comes to sound. If you were to compare them to a set of standard headphones that sell for the same price, the standard heaphones would win out in a battle of sound quality but that’s not to say the earSHOTS are bad by any stretch of the imagination, and ultimately the earSHOTS are designed to provide you with trouble-free listening in environments where other headphones would provide you with nothing but trouble, and that’s exactly what they do.
I wouldn’t say you forget the headphones are there once they’re in, but they don’t move around at all and are uncomfortable in any sense. It took me a minute to wrap my head around how to put them on the first time round, although as admitted earlier I oh-so-confidently skipped the tutorial videos, but once you’ve figured it out they’re a piece of cake to put on and despite my hardest efforts, I couldn’t get them to budge. They don’t interfere with my helmet or helmet straps at all, and because each earSHOT is a standalone unit, meaning no cable or bar to connect them like some wireless headphones, you’re free to move your head however you like without fear of earSHOT ejection. The magnetic retention system works perfectly, and you don’t feel the magnets attraction to one-another at all. After a little bro-science, I concluded that the magnets are strong enough to hang the headphones off your earlobe like a pair of over-priced, mildly deformed hoops, but not so strong that you could do much more than just sit there questioning why you’ve got two headphones hanging from your ears.
The question I’ve had the most with the earSHOTS is do they have a microphone to pick up noise from the environment around you. The answer is no, but the earSHOTS aren’t an in-ear headphone and they aren’t noise cancelling either, so you can still hear what’s going on around you, unless of course your music is cranked up so loud that you should be worrying about your hearing before anything else. Probably also worth noting that if you need to be able to hear what’s going on around you, chances are you probably shouldn’t be listening to music. After chatting with James, it is something they’re considering in the future and I think that’s one of the rad things about direct-to-consumer companies – the fact that us consumers can have these conversations with the people behind the product knowing that our feedback will get through to someone who can actually utilise it.
When all is said and done, if you’re wanting to ride and listen to music, I’m not aware of anything on the market that will do a better job than the earSHOTS. They’re comfy, they sound great and they’re easy to setup. It’s really cool to see a business establish purely around designing headphones for mountain biking and outdoor sports, as opposed to being an after thought on someone else’s product line, so if you want to keep your money within our sport, consider picking up a pair of earSHOTS.
I’ve said it a bunch of times and I’ll say it again; getting to showcase local businesses that are bringing something new to our sport is one of my favourite parts of this job. earSHOTS are a great example of this, and I look forward to following their journey over years to come.
Want to win your own pair of earSHOTS? Head over to our Instagram, find our post sharing this story on June 10th, comment your favourite riding song and go in the drawer to win! You can comment as many times as you like, make sure you're following us and @ride_earshots though! Winner will be drawn at random on 23rd June. Competition open to people residing in New Zealand only.
Words: Cam Baker
Images: Cam Baker with production photos supplied by earSHOTS
Story: Heli's & eBikes?
I can see how this headline might raise a few eyebrows, but please, bear with me.
In November of 2019 I met up with two old friends from the Southern Hemisphere in Queenstown, New Zealand, where Henry van Ash lives. He is one of the people that invented/commercialized Bungy Jumping and made it a global thing and one of New Zealand biggest tourist attractions. He has also been a long time and passionate mountain biker with one of the most impressive bike collections he’s built up over the years. Recently he started a heli-bike company that transports adventurous mountain bikers to the remote back country.
Mountain Bike Hall of Famer, Glen Jacobs, was the other bloke who joined myself and my wife Carmen on this visit. Glen is from Australia and one of the most influential people in the world of mountain biking. His trail design company, ‘World Trail’ has over 60 employees and has built and developed some of the best bike destinations in the world, including Blue Derby amongst countless others. All three of us were equipped with pedal assist eBikes, not so much because we are lazy or old, but because of the fun factor, because of the different ways of riding and experiencing adventure, and new possibilities like riding longer, further, steeper terrain that’s hard to do or simply impossible on pedal bikes.
So why using a helicopter, you may ask? Well, because we had the opportunity and invitation, and to explore the remote backcountry that would be hard to access on regular bikes or eBikes unless dropped off. Outings like this, would normally require multi-days, which would mean we had to bring tents, sleeping bags, food, etc. We have all done traditional multi-day adventures before and they are always lots of fun, but the helicopter allowed us to be dropped off at pretty much any point and then pedal back home, especially in the alpine environment with overgrown and rocky terrain. The harsh alpine grass, rock fields and snow field would hardly be ridable or fun on a regular bike, but on an eBike it is possible to keep momentum in the rough terrain.
A workout was guaranteed, despite the category 1 electric pedal assist bikes; one was wise to conserve battery power along the way, especially when riding a route that hasn’t been ridden before or with the danger of getting lost and having to backtrack which could deplete valuable power from the battery and could leave you in a sticky situation if your battery runs out before the trail does. Full suspension bikes are a must in such technical terrain and the big tyres allow for better traction, not only because they have a bigger footprint/contact area on the ground, but also because they can be run with lower air pressure. One of the most underrated facts about eBike set up is the perfect tyre pressure, which depends on many factors, 1 or 2 psi can make all the difference. I can only encourage riders to experiment with their tyre pressures to find their own sweet spot, which will vary from terrain to terrain and riding style. Highspeed bike park berms and jumps require more pressure than slow and bumpy back country outings.
Queenstown is the adventure sports capital of New Zealand. The town, with its population of 42,000, sits on the shores of the South Island’s Lake Wakatipu. Set amongst the dramatic Southern Alps, it’s surrounded by pure nature and wild mountains. Many tourists come here every year, to enjoy the thrills of extreme and adventure activities. They also have a renowned bike park and nearby mountain resorts with world class bike trails. We went on three different outings with the helicopter while we were there. One can preview the route and pick lines as we fly over it. We would scout the terrain from the air, to find the best trails or valley’s that wouldn’t lead to a dead end or unpassable river. I have to say sometimes it’s nice to have ‘friends with benefits, and it felt pretty amazing to have a helicopter at your private service without time restrains - “can we first fly over there and look at the other options” or “can you pick us up half way down the ridge and meet us with lunch” or “how about a quick detour to fly over the famous Milford Sound Fiord”. Trust me these are not regular occurrences or options on any of my normal trips or rides. Travelling this way opened the doors for possibilities that I had not experienced before. My favourite day was when we were accompanied by Henry’s dog, Alfi, who joined us and loved running alongside us, always minding and respecting the bikes. He was a very tired dog at the end of that day.
Riding along endless ridges with breathtaking views with hardly any signs of civilization in sight. We came across some old mining sites and ghost towns, from the days of the gold and copper rush. Some of the old mining trails make great biking trails some 140 years later. On another day we were dropped off on top of an alpine mountain with no trails in sight, we had to navigate and pick our lines through rough rock sections and spree fields, patches of snow and endless ridges that would eventually join some old dirt roads or trails.
On day 3 Henry called the operators at Coronet Ski Resorts, since the bike park and gondola hadn’t opened for the summer season yet, we got permission to fly to the top and put first tracks on the freshly groomed flow trails. These trails are eye-candy and snake down the mountain side with one roller, jump or berm after the other.
Definitely an extravagant experience to get to participate in such a special trip and a great way to catch up with some good old mates.
Words: Hans Rey
Images: Carmen Rey
Locking Down Pt. 2 | YUM Granola
The people behind YUM Granola are as good as any, and they're a business I'm stoked we're friendly with not only because they make delicious granola and mountain bike, but because Sarah, Mike and their team do so much to give back, whether that be by operating a certified Climate-Positive business or by donating granola to local food banks. We caught up with Sarah to get an insight into YUM, and to find out how Covid-19 has affected them.
Tell us a little bit about YUM Granola, what you do and your ties to mountain biking.
We make YUM Granola here in Nelson, which includes everything from creating our own recipes, sourcing the ingredients, baking the product, photos, website and online content creation, packaging design, and distribution across the country. Mike and I started YUM down in Wanaka about 5 years ago when we were living there, and it really took off at the local market. Watching it grow on its own at the beginning was quite impressive. I've always believed when you do something you love and that fires you up, the finished product is noticeably different, and that’s one of the main reasons I believe YUM tastes as good as it does. We take it one step further and are conscious on every level of how what we do is affecting our footprint and how we can make it better.
While we are a small company, we punch above our weight on so many fronts - sustainability, contributions/donations, minimising packaging waste, paying living wage, eliminating the use of plastics. For us, it is the right way to do business and the only way to do business. We see other companies receiving awards for just being in business and it's always a bit disappointing because it would be nice to see how (or if) they are giving back to their community and the planet, not just looking after their own image and bottom line. So, we focus on what we do best and stick to our values, which is thoughtful to the whole process and keeps us tracking in a (somewhat) straight line.
YUM and mountain biking go hand and hand for us! We both are addicted to riding in our own ways. YUM was created initially to fuel our own adventures. Then, more and more people wanted it and we wanted to share its goodness. Funnily enough, the first delivery of YUM was on my Yeti SB95 from Lake Hawea to Wanaka. We are lucky in that YUM provides us a lifestyle now where we ride pretty consistently. We moved to Nelson a few years ago because of the riding. We knew the move would be good for YUM too but at the end of the day it is the getting out on the trails that brings balance (and breathing) to our lives. We've also just been able to ride together again. I had forgotten how much fun Mike is to ride with, so we have been getting out weekly again which feels like a treat. There have been times when YUM needs every minute of our waking days, and in the beginning there were no free weekends and little free time, but we now work pretty normal hours with the ability to go ride Nelson's amazing trails when the sun is out. YUM HQ is right in downtown Nelson, so just a few minutes ride to all the trails which we are stoked on.
What challenges have you faced over the past couple of months? From our entry into level four, to our move to level three and where we sit now, in level 2.
The night before lockdown I had a huge meltdown! It wasn't about the unknown of what was going to happen, it was more the fact we felt spread thin already and I couldn't imagine that on top of having Rai home from kindy all day every day. I knew it would be bonus quality time to be with her but having less time to drive YUM scared me to be honest. The irony was that Mike seemed happier and more relaxed than ever! This is why we are a good team😊 I asked him why and he said that he is always stressed about YUM and now it felt a little better because everyone was in it together. I guess for me, I feel that if you’ve started your own company , you find yourself in the red sometimes, but if you do it right, you learn how to be lean, agile, and smart. We know other companies who work with a lot of capital and because of that they just throw ideas and money in the air to see what will stick. We've never been able to afford to have that mentality and because of that I believe we have good general resilience.
We were super grateful to be an essential supplier to supermarkets and to be able to continue producing YUM through the entire lockdown. I remember the first day going to work in Level 4, riding my bike to YUM downtown and it was eerie. It felt like every person and every business had vanished in a way, virtually overnight. There was no one on the streets and it really left me feeling sad for all the people who had lost their jobs and the business owners that didn't know how or if their businesses were going to be able to continue. After a couple weeks at Level 4 while our supermarket sales had dropped a bit, our online sales were through the roof. We were essentially doing more production with half the staff in a fraction the time. I had to reprioritize and condense my role down to what was essential and only do a couple hours of work a day while Rai was sleeping. Mike was wrapping his days up by mid-afternoon, to come home and relieve me a bit with Rai. The irony was that because we weren't allowed to ride our mountain bikes during lockdown here in Nelson, we were forced to relax and breathe in different ways, and it felt pretty good to not feel guilty about not getting out. We just changed gears and did more hikes with Rai and found other ways to get out into the bush.
At Level 2, I came back to work at YUM HQ along with Rachel who helps us with all our store support. It felt really good to have the team back under one roof! Rai was probably equally happy to be back in kindy playing with other little people again.
Has/how has COVID-19 affected your plans for the year?
It's really interesting because just this week I went back to our Strategy Plan that we were working off pre-Covid. It was only a couple months ago and I have little memory of it. The world is a different place now, with shopping habits changing overnight as well. I am hopeful that some of the good habits we had over lockdown will continue. We've always commuted to and from work on our bikes and the amount of smelly cars on the road again are kind of a bummer. We've been asking ourselves what worked for us over lockdown and then taking that forward into planning for the rest of the year.
Tell us about how you’ve been supporting food banks around the country over the past few months
I remember getting to YUM the first day Level 4 was being discussed on the radio and Mike said, "I've worked the numbers and I think we can donate 1 x 400g retail bag for every 1kg purchased on our website". "What… Really?!" Our margins are already really slim compared to our competitors because of the organic ingredients we use, so I was pretty shocked at this coming from the guy who is pretty stressed on a daily basis around YUM's finances. He went on to explain that a lot of people were going to be out of jobs and not be able to afford the basics and it would be good for us to think of those people and help them. We had no idea how our business turnover would be through lockdown, but we knew this would help us maintain our focus and feel good about being able to continue baking YUM. So, that day we launched YUM's Breaky Drive and now we’ve donated over 500 bags to local and national food banks which is over 4,000 YUM servings to keep people going, and still growing. It has been pretty awesome to see how well received it has been from people and it makes us even more proud of YUM.
A lot of businesses, including us, have been able to put energy into projects that had been sitting on the backburner before Covid hit. Have you been working on anything over the lock down period, or has it been business as usual?
There was a lot of business as usual but one of the other silver linings to lockdown was that my creativity really kicked into gear and I came up with a couple new YUM recipes, as well as finishing a couple more. So, those are now new products in the queue for moving ahead which is pretty exciting in our world. We still get very excited for new YUM products as they are our own unique creations. Over lockdown we finished our audit with EKOS and received our certification for being Carbon Zero + Climate Positive, which really feels great as we don't know of anyone else in our category that has a similar commitment to sustainability. It also offsets our carbon by 120% with regenerative native plantings in Takaka, just over the hill from us.
Finally, what’s in store for YUM over the rest of 2020?
So much goodness! We have just started working with a group on the North Island who are going to help us grow YUM into more supermarkets which will grow our market share. This combined with our plan to switch over our entire retail line of YUM into home compostable packaging will mean that the more market share we have, the more packaging waste we will be eliminating, which is something we feel pretty strong about. We have switched all our 1kg bags already to home compostable packaging, but it is a large project for the retail line. We have wanted to do it for some time, but it was cost prohibitive. However, now it is looking more like a reality. We are going to roll our newest flavour, The Mighty Fig, out into retail packages as well as it really took off with our trial of it in 1kg bags. One of the recipes I came up with over the lockdown, will come out in the next couple weeks on our website and it is unlike anything out there as it will be from 100% NZ grown ingredients. It was a bit of a scavenger hunt to see what NZ grows and how we could create a granola with it. In a way the rest of the year will be continuing to get YUM out into the world while ensuring we are leaving the best footprint as its legacy.
Words: Cam Baker & Sarah Hedger
Images: Sarah Hedger & Mike Cowlin
Story: Waitangi Mountain Bike Park
When we think of Waitangi, the birthplace of our nation, we tend to remember the TV broadcasts and headlines reporting the cultural politics that surrounds Waitangi Day each February. For those of us who have visited Waitangi, we also marvel at its stunning beaches and its never-ending farmland. Nowadays, the old lawlessness of the nearby early settler ports has been replaced by a thriving tourist industry. Yet few people know that Waitangi Mountain Bike Park is nestled beneath the tall pines of the Waitangi Endowment Forest, offering riders some 40kms of smooth, feature-filled flowy trails built by Southstar Trails and Ryan Lovett.
In early October I, along with a couple of mates, ventured up to the picturesque Bay of Islands to investigate what this new park has to offer. Although mother nature wasn’t on our side that weekend, the rain didn’t hinder our enthusiasm and eagerness to get out and try riding every trail in the park within the two days we had. Our overall assessment: the little-known Waitangi MTB Park deserves to be on every mountain-biker’s radar.
Location, Location, Location
Waitangi is only a brief three-hour drive north of Auckland. This is pretty much the same amount of time that it takes most Aucklanders to drive to Rotorua, which many mountain-bikers do weekend after weekend. For the same travel time, a trip up to the so-called winterless north is well worth it.
Once we arrived at Paihia we were instantly captured by the slow pace of the place and we quickly adapted to the beach lifestyle. It felt so much like we were on holiday that we almost forgot we had our bikes to ride. Almost.
Me and my mates — John and Amy — are no human compasses as we never have any idea which way is north. If it wasn’t for Johnny, the operator of Paihia Mountain Bike Rentals, we would’ve got completely lost. Johnny was quick to provide the key information we needed, including which were the ‘up’ trails and other important places within the park, as well as recommending which trails were worth riding first.
With Paihia township only ten minutes down the road, we had all the coffee, food and accommodation we needed to get and keep going. The park is well sign posted and easy to find. There is plenty of parking, which is all situated around a highly informative and striking hub / base map station.
The Riding Experience
Although primarily clay-based, the lower parts of the trail network sit on a volcanic shelf, which makes for highly contrasting terrain as we climbed our way through the park. Starting off by meandering through gum trees and rolling over rocks, we then ventured up through young pine and into small pockets of native bush, erupting in bird song.
The park is divided into five zones, each with a different flavour and unique style of trail. Zones 1-3 were the first to be developed and feature 85% of the park’s trails. Luckily for us Zone 5 opened the day we got there: we had the honour of being the first riders to roll tyres over it. Situated at the very back of the park, and within the oldest pines on the property, these trails are built natural, rough and with minimal man-made features. While the trail surface was too soft and young for us to be able to really ride at pace, these mostly Grade 4 trails do have great potential for challenging riders on something other than a ‘bermed’ highway.
Zone 4 is yet to be developed, but is a primarily flat. Sitting on the same volcanic shelf as the lower trails of Zone 1, development will be slow and expensive, as trail building is incredibly laborious through all the rock. Their plans are to focus on building more grade 1-2 family loops and a skills park in due course.
Starting from the feet of the Pouwhenua, we rode through the gentle link trails of zone 1, up into the first trail forks of zone 2. Here, we began to wind our way up via a timid grade 2, 2km climb into the upper areas before dropping down into a section for grade 2 and 3 flow trails, or looping out and around Holland Days, a gentle XC loop than spans the lower, flatter areas of both zone 2 & 3.
Zone 3 is where the serious rider will spend most of their time. Littered with a myriad of fast, flow trails, with native sections and plenty of jumps, it is quite the playground. With all the trails in this zone linking back to the main climb, Te Rangi Hononga, it is easy to crank out laps without getting overly fatigued. Pakonga is the golden child within the park, a grade 4 jump trail that features large table tops and deep berms perched on the edge of a ridgeline. I also recommend riding Hookioi for the best mix of everything.
A Special Place
What really makes Waitangi Mountain Bike Park so special is the fact that it has been 100% community funded. Tiff Holland has really managed to rally the troops and unite the community to bring the park to life. The local ITM supplied all the timber for fencing and the hub area. The local jail provided prisoners to help clear trail, develop the grounds and do construction work. Tiff’s good friend provided a large amount of architecture and consulting free of charge. Everything for nothing — and all because they saw the same goal of creating something special for the local community.
It all started with a family trip to Rotorua some four years ago. The experience and epic trails captured Tiff so much (like it has for many of us), that her husband, Robin, exclaimed “How can we get one of these?” That quick remark set in motion the wheels on the Waitangi Mountain Bike Park project. Like anything in life, though, if it’s easy, then it probably isn’t worth the effort. Over the next few years, Tiff, who is the main driving force and front women for the project, set about scouting the perfect block of land, negotiating with several parties, including the land owners, local iwi, Department of Conservation, forestry management and Kiwi conservationists before starting the all-important fundraising efforts.
Final Reflections of a Happy Traveller
The quality of the park impressed me most. From trail design to signage, from drainage to dirt type, the park has been well thought out. We had to be strategic with our timing when venturing out from under tree cover due to the rain, but not once did we find the trails were drastically effected. Slippery in the odd spot, sure, but still plenty of fun with lots of grip and a big clean-up job after the ride - damn clay! The park does lack big elevation, though thanks to smart trail building, even the series rider will want to keep coming back. The trails are perfect for the family too, and even better for a brief holiday, giving yourself time for off the bike activities also.
Finally, I must say a big ‘thank you’ to Sauce Pizza Bar Paihia, The Scenic Hotels, Duke of Marlborough and Focus Paihia, as well as Tiff and Johnny for hosting us with a genuine friendliness which has always been a regional trait encountered by travellers heading North.
Words & Images: Cameron Mackenzie