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Leg breakdown:

Date Activity Leg Distance (Km) Elev. Gain (m) Elev. Desc. (m) GPX Profile
22-Nov-18 Riding Waitiki to Bluff campground 75.5 678 686 GPX Profile
23-Nov-18 Riding Bluff campground to Ahipara 61.6 59 32 GPX Profile
25-Nov-18 Riding Ahipara to Rawene 68.9 538 499 GPX Profile
26-Nov-18 Riding Rawene to Waipoua forest 63.7 836 801 GPX Profile
27-Nov-18 Riding Waipoua forest to Kauri Coast 22.2 327 376 GPX Profile
28-Nov-18 Riding Kauri Coast to Matakohe 78.7 277 318 GPX Profile
29-Nov-18 Riding Matakohe to Kaiwaka 38.2 442 377 GPX Profile

 

22-29 November, 2018: Northland's West Coast

After visiting Cape Reinga, the most northern point of New Zealand, we head to the West coast of the Aupouri peninsula, in the Northland region, to begin our way back to Auckland. This route includes several interesting points such as the Te Paki giant dunes, the 90 miles beach and the Kauri forests.

Our goal for the first night is the campground in Bluff, already on the 90 miles beach. To get there, first we have to reach the Te Paki giant dunes, ford the stream of the same name and then take the beach South towards the DOC campsite. Crossing the mouth of the stream and riding on the beach must be synchronized with the low tide to be able to ride on firm sand. We have been told that if the tide is high, the only sand left out of the water is too soft to ride.

At the end of the descent from Waitiki Landing to the stream we start to see the sand dunes. They really are gigantic. The people we see at the top look tiny. The Te Paki stream is a hard line separating the dunes from the forest. To the right, the golden sand, barren and desolate. To the left, the tropical forest, green and lush. An unreal contrast. If you look to one side you think you are in the desert but if you look to the opposite side you are in the jungle. The stream carries very little water and is at the most 10 cm deep. Its bed is sandy and the friction is noticeable, but crossing it is simpler than we expected and we do so multiple times looking for the hardest sand. After a few kilometers we reach the mouth of the river. The water runs slowly from the sandy bed of the stream to the dark sand of the beach and finally to the Tasman Sea.

We turn South and start the famous 90 mile beach. It´s not 90 miles but rather 90 km. The wind blows from the West and brings a wet mist that reduces visibility considerably. All we can see is a gray sea on the right with consecutive waves sliding up the beach and small dunes to the left behind a short wall that seems to be the limit for the high tide or most likely the storms. In front, the perspective and the haze blur the two images. For several kilometers there are no landmarks to guide us. Of course, you can´t get lost, but if it wasn´t for the GPS we would not know at what point of the route we are, nor how much we have left to our destination. We ford some other creeks that crawl to the sea. Many of them are not even on the map. Some carry so little water that the sand on the beach swallows it before they reach the sea. After a while we can grasp through the fog the pyramid-shaped island with its distinctive natural arch that we have seen in pictures.

Since we started crossing the Te Paki stream, we have been pedaling in sandals to avoid getting our boots wet. At this point, our feet and a good part of the bike and panniers are coated in sand. Every time we brake, the discs squeal in pain crushing the sand grains. It’s a shriek that makes us cringe. The chain sounds like a coffee grinder with dull blades. Pedaling on the beach is probably the best way to mess up the bikes´ drive train. But the 90 miles beach is a classic and classics have a special weight when deciding the route you take. At the beginning of the beach the novelty keeps us alert and smiling. As the kilometers go by, it becomes monotonous and even boring. Others find it mystical and inspiring. Maybe on a sunny day, but with this chilling fog and the bikes screeches, it seems the entrance to purgatory.

Finally we reach the rocky point next to our campsite today. It is a rock that can be accessed on foot at low tide. Just past the isthmus that joins it to land, we leave the beach, drag the bikes up a sandy road and arrive at the campsite. There are 6 or 7 tents from the hikers or “walkers” of the Te Araroa trail, the hiking trail that goes from Cape Reinga to Bluff, the southernmost point of the South Island (not the campsite of the same name that we have just arrived at). This campsite is extremely basic. It doesn’t even have drinking water, but it´s a flat spot to spend the night.

When we get up the next day, all the tents have disappeared. All the walkers have already left. We have to wait for the tide to go out. The low tide is at 4 o'clock in the afternoon so there is no hurry. We inspect the bikes and we almost start crying. The sand mixed with the chain lubricant will be polishing the links during the remaining 60 kilometers. We clean it the best we can, but the space inside the links is not accessible for our toothbrush. Well, for the toothbrush we use to clean the chains. Let´s be clear. In total we have three toothbrushes and only one is for the chains. On top of that, it is always the same one. Since we can´t do much about the sand, we add some lubricant. Hopefully at least it quiets the grinding noise. Finally we start riding. One by one we catch up with the walkers. For us the 90 miles beach is a day and a half, but for them, at least three, assuming they are capable of walking 30 km each day. The route has few distractions. Occasionally we pass areas full of empty shells that crush under our tires. The seagulls try to break the full ones, dropping them from high up. The little dots initially diffused in the distance become people or vehicles as we get closer. Tourists take pictures of us from the road accesses that we pass or from the bus that brings them from Cape Reinga. We make bets to guess the distance to some faraway landmark. In short, we try to distract ourselves as much as we can between long stretches of solitude. Finally we arrive at Ahipara, the village at the southern end of the 90 miles beach. Evidently, today we have not had any climbs but we are tired anyway. With the additional friction of the sand, the day has been equivalent to pedaling a gentle uphill during the 60 km. It is probably worth doing the 90 miles beach, but if it was much shorter it would be just fine.

Our next objective on this coast is the Kauri forests, a couple of days away from Ahipara. On this coast, it seems that forests generally occupy a higher percentage of land than grasslands, unlike the East coast. The forests remain tropical and dense. The giant ferns still stand out as the most extraordinary species for us. We have learned that their real name is black tree fern. It turns out that it is one of the fern species most resistant to direct sunlight. Surely that's why it can reach heights of up to 20 meters, the tallest in this family of plants.

On this road Cèsar, in his usual distraction, catches a pothole with the rear wheel and Catacrak! The other part that held the rack to the bike frame breaks. Luckily we had already purchased spare parts at Russel's hardware store. However, those parts are for furniture and home repairs but that's what was available. The result is that his bike starts to look like a Picasso design. The right angle mending plate even looks aerodynamic.

The section of the road through the Waipoua forest is especially beautiful. For some reason, here the black tree ferns dominate the sides of the road and their fractal leaves are silhouetted against the blue sky. It gives you the impression of walking in the Jurassic. The vegetation is so dense and humid that it would be absolutely impossible for us to camp in these forests if we had the need. The moss grows even in the asphalt cracks.

We arrive at the parking lot to go to see Tane Mahuta, the largest Kauri still standing. After a short walk, it appears suddenly. As we look up to his canopy, our amazement grows. The trunk girth is 13.8 m and has a total height of 51.5 m, but what surprises us the most is the thickness of its branches, the volume its canopy takes and the number of epiphytes that live in its crown. Despite its 2000 years, the bark is smooth and has no scars, not even from old branches. For the Maori, it is the lord of the forest, son of the father sky and the mother earth. As such, it has a primordial role in the Maori cosmology and all living creatures are his children.

The next walk take us to see the thickest standing kauri: Te Matua Ngahere (girth=16.4 m). The hikes along the elevated wooden walkways are great. The variety and quantity of plant species exceeds any expectation. Any potential vegetation opening is occupied by a fern, moss, bush, tree or vine. Fallen trunks serve as a pot for new plants. The vitality of this forest is incredible.

The end of the route through the Waipoua forest is also special. The campsite manager is a bicycle enthusiast and rewards all cyclists who arrive here with a free beer.

 

 

The next day we visit the Trounson forest. Unlike Waipoua, it’s a lot less dense and visibility trough the vegetation is much greater. From afar you can see the soft trunks of the kauris and the ecosystems they hold in their crowns. You can also follow the vines from trunk to trunk without losing them in the labyrinth of the vegetation. In all parks and official reserves there is a shoe cleaning station at the trailheads. First you scratch your boots against metal plates. Then you brush them. And finally you spray the soles with a fungicide. The objective is to avoid spreading the kauri dieback, a fungus that ends up killing these ancient and spectacular trees.

Our next campsite has a couple of special night attractions. On the river that borders it, you can attract two species of eels simply by illuminating the water. For the Maori they are a delicious dish and they cook them in multiple ways. We are happy with being able to see them.

 

Under the bridge that crosses the river there is a humid and shady wall, covered with ferns where a lot of glow worms live. Unfortunately we do not have a tripod and it’s difficult to take good pictures, but imagine the little blue dots between the leaves of the ferns. As you move, some of the little lights disappear behind the leaves and others that were hidden come to light. Magical. It seems a source of inspiration for Avatar.The rest of the route to Auckland goes without further worth mentioning events. We continue to find curious traffic signs and imaginative mailboxes. As we get closer to the city, traffic increases and becomes annoying. As we did when we left the city, we get on a ferry to avoid the last kilometers. And just as we arrive at the Auckland port, we leave for the Waiheke Island, but that’s another story.