It’s an afternoon of rolling rural roads, the impending rain giving the world a supernatural glow and I am like a dog with its head out the car window. Sniffing smells and admiring raging rivers and streams, the kōwhai down here are more flower than leaf, their bright yellow blooms set off against a glowering sky.
Country roads of rural Aotearoa. Photo / Elisabeth Easther
We ride past paddocks of cows and sheep, where rambunctious lambs spring about and prize bulls watch on stoically.
The grass is an emerald carpet laid upon impressive peaks, the landscape punctuated with cones like party hats. Ancient geological events score the topography, while the modern world makes its presence felt with roads, fences and farms. My thoughts roam freely in the saddle; the act of pedalling leads to the sort of peaceful reflection rarely found behind the wheel of a car.
The land unfurls before us, mainly farmed fields with distant plantations of pine and small pockets of native bush, a poignant reminder of how this land once looked. Rather than ride all the way to Ohakune, Carrot Capital of the Universe, we board the van to avoid a non-bike-friendly section. This is one of many things that make Adventure South tours so fab – there’s the perfect amount of mollycoddling, including a constantly replenished snack basket.
Cycling through rural Aotearoa. Photo / Elisabeth Easther
The heavens open as we arrive at Ohakune’s Powderhorn Chateau, making this glorious alpine lodge an oasis. Warm and welcoming, it’s not far from some sweet short trails, including the Rimu and Mangawhero Walks near the main trunk line. Great shower, great dinner, deep sleep.
The forecast rain arrives in earnest the next morning, but it is our river day, and instead of cycling, we’re jetboating on the Whanganui. Possibly paddling too, and what’s a bit of water when all’s said and done? Plus, we return to cosy rooms, so it’s really a rest day. That’s what I tell myself as we drive to Pipiriki, rain pelting the van and low mist shrouding the bush.
The cycle group on day one. Photo / Elisabeth Easther
Meeting Captain Ken, our jetboat pilot, we board the boat and roar off into rain that stings like needles in our faces. I wonder if this torture could be marketed as a beauty treatment. Aqua-puncture anyone? Reaching speeds of up to 65km/h, Ken regales us with tales, pointing out lamprey nets, caves, tributaries and million-year-old layers of oyster shells high in the banks from when this was an actual ocean.
Disembarking at Mangapurua Landing, we walk through dripping native bush to The Bridge To Nowhere. Built in 1936 for the farming hordes that never came or didn’t stay, the 40m high, 34m long bridge across Mangapurua Stream has no roads leading to or from, making it accessible only to hikers, bikers and paddlers. Priceless.
Bridge to Nowhere. Photo / Elisabeth Easther
We’re told the river usually sparkles, but after several weeks of rain, it’s like a cup of strong milky tea, and Ken says it’ll take some weeks to return to its former green glory. Back to base we whizz across the cloudy water, kayaking canned, yet despite the rain it’s been a jolly good day.
The next morning, the group WhatsApp warns of afternoon rain, but our 67km road ride from Pipiriki to Whanganui is still charming. From Pipiriki, we pedal to Jerusalem, where Sister Suzanne Aubert founded her holy order, The Daughters of Our Lady of Compassion. Sainthood pending. This is also James K Baxter country, and the sense of ancestors – both mana whenua and manuhiri – is strong. History is here, with the low clouds adding another layer of drama.
The ride winds through scenic rural roads. Photo / Elisabeth Easther
Spring is in full force, and blossoms buzz with bees, the flowers fiercely fragrant. Historic houses with their blooming gardens are a testament to generations of love and green-fingered toil. I imagine the bottling that’s done down here, judging from the acres of generous orchards. But it’s not a day for dilly dallying, and we ride swiftly over roads strewn with rockfall before the final push up Old Whanganui River Rd. A hearty climb ends with a descent into downtown Whanganui, to real life and real traffic.
A cyclist on the trail through Whanganui. Photo / Elisabeth Easther
Riding like ducklings behind guide Robbie, rural roads give way to enclaves of pretty houses and more well-tended, old-fashioned gardens. Crossing a bridge like a giant eyelid, we join an actual riverside cycle path, before joining Somme Parade into downtown Whanganui.
Up early next morning, bags to the van, we ride to Mischief Cafe. Fortified with a hearty breakfast, we cycle to the famous Durie Hill Elevator and its magnificent lit-up tunnel with the mad acoustics. All aboard with our bikes, it’s hard to believe this frippery is even real. At the top, we climb the two towers – oh, the views! – before riding 40km to Sutherland’s Reserve. After morning tea and a damp stroll through native bush, we press on to Hunterville, where the main street backs on to a field of grazing sheep and our 73km day finishes with a drive to Makaora Lodge, our home for the next two nights.
In rustic Āpiti now, we’re surrounded by the Ruahine Ranges, but we cannot always see them and the next day the rain falls, but it is warm and the clouds eventually clear. Today’s ride boasts more beautiful gardens, significant orchards, winding waterways and country roads that lead us to Kimbolton in the Manawatū and to Hansen’s Cafe, where a posse of local ladies knit industriously at the next table. It’s a mere 24km back to the lodge, and I must confess to riding an e-bike for this leg, because there’s a spare. Hills schmills, the e-bike is exhilarating, and back at Makaora, we individually avail ourselves of the bathtub and the giant stash of Epsom salts.
Another day, another cliff. Photo / Elisabeth Easther
Suddenly, our final day is here, and we pedal from Makaora to Āpiti and into Oroua Valley. Providing some of the week’s prettiest riding, we navigate long winding roads through verdant bush, while serpentine rivers cut a path beneath towering cliffs. After celebrating our achievement with lunch at Awastone Cafe in Mangaweka, we board the van for the final time to Taupō. The sun finally makes an appearance – better late than never – and the mighty maunga reveal themselves in all their snow-capped glory. ‘Well done,’ they seem to say.
Details
Adventure South’s Mt Ruapehu and The Three Rivers is 340km of fully supported rural riding through the Manawatū and Whanganui regions.
The journalist travelled courtesy of Adventure South.