Papa don't breach

Whakahoro to Pipiriki

40.9km (+33.7km jet-boat ride)

The forecast was wrong today. Again. And boy were we happy about that! For the last week or so, it's been forecast to rain today, and it didn't. Well, there was just a shower as I write at 22:30, so I guess it wasn't wrong, just mistimed. Any road up, as we said in Lancashire, we are mighty glad we are here a day earlier than originally planned. We arrived bang on schedule on Plan C.

Plan A was to spend a rest day in Forest House at Blue Duck Station, where our friend Sandy is working in the cafe for the season, and Ken was taking the opportunity to finish off some building work on the owner's house. We would enjoy some good company, wine, proper home-cooked meals, beer, and a touch of deluxe living. Did I mention they would bring wine & beer? Completely rested, we would enjoy a leisurely ride over the 'notorious in TA-world' Kaiwhakauka/Mangaparua tracks to the Bridge to Nowhere, and a jet-boat ride to Pipiriki, pickup at 15:30. Ken would take our camping gear home to Hawera for future collection...

Plan B simply took all of the above and moved it up a day, cutting short our stay in Whakahoro and adding a second night in Pipiriki. The major flaw in this plan was that we'd heard on the grapevine that the only boat pickup today was at 1:30, the moving target of the weather meaning a real risk of us not making it to the landing in time. Mel at Blue Duck even checked the other boat operator for us, but 1:30 was the only option.

So we formulated Plan C, turning all the above on its head and going equipped to spend a comfortable night on the track, but off-loading all our other gear on Ken to drop at Pipiriki en route home. Tent, sleeping bags, mats, down jackets, jetboil, one dehy meal, & lots of cereal bars went into two panniers and were loaded onto the bike on Thursday. Plan C also suited Ken, who would finish his work on Friday morning and gained a day at home to attend to a long list of delayed tasks. After a convivial dinner, we set the alarm for 5AM and drifted off to untroubled sleep.

All too soon we were woken, and quiet as the proverbial church mice we breakfasted and prepared for the ordeal ahead. As it was still absolutely pitch dark, we didn't rush. Sandra woke to say goodbye, and we set off into the misty dawn at 6:20. A pause outside the cafe to start Relive and reset the odo, and off down the farm track past the Kaiwhakauka waterfall toward the Whanganui National Park entrance and the start of the single-track. Apart from an area of slip repairs, it was an easy ride. In the paddock at the track start was evidence of the ongoing work on the track, with a container and various contractor's plant. The track itself was newly metalled and smooth, winding into the thickening bush. If it stays like this it'll be a doddle, we thought...

It didn't. As the track climbed we soon hit the first of many fairly narrow wooden bridges; after pushing across it, we reminded ourselves that we usually stayed on the bikes and 'handed' our way along the side rails, which is much quicker. We also found the first mud-puddle. If it's like this after 6 days with no rain, I dread to think what it would like after rain. The first few were rideable, but with a narrow track and steep drop-off, the risk of trying to power through was that a miscalculation could lead to disaster. As it did for Graham, one of our regularly encountered co-cyclists, who took a tumble 2m head-first down the bank, followed by his bike. With a sore neck and swollen ankle he probably got off lightly, though I'm not sure he'd see it that way!

Now, I'm no expert (about anything, some would say) but if I had a project to improve a notorious track, I think my first priority would be to drain the soggy areas ahead of metalling the surface and installing safety fences. Such work is being done, but seemingly piecemeal. We hike-a-biked through just about every muddy section, as well as many climbs out from stream crossings. As time wore on, and it was approaching 9 when we hit our 10km break, we resigned ourselves to a night under canvas and Saturday's boat.

And then... We came through a gate to encounter two calfs, who looked up and scampered away to join their mums. After, slightly nervously, negotiating our way through the herd, the faint trail across the paddock gave way to a farm track. On rereading the instructions, this change to a 4WD track is mentioned. But then again

Maungatapu and Big River are described as 4WD tracks, and what we had here was a very well maintained farm road: luxury! 4km on, up the steepest part of the climb, we reached the track junction at 9:21, and with DOC's sign indicating 3hr35 to the landing we gained confidence that we'd get to the boat in time. Besides which, it was only 20km, and pretty much all downhill. How could DOC be so pessimistic? Because they know how rough it is, and also about the 12km of single-track with 7 narrow swingbridges to be negotiated, and about 4km of which they insist you dismount and walk. That's why.

As we passed Johnsons campground we spotted a couple of bikes leaning against a shack, a side-by-side and some track maintenance equipment. And a DOC truck coming up the track toward us... As it passed, we asked about the track conditions ahead, and they said it was OK, but to walk the water-filled puddles as they were pretty deep... No kidding!

We'd gone barely a couple of kilometres on when we were caught by Graham & Lloyd: it was their bikes we'd seen at the camp, where they'd been enjoying tea & biccies with the 'resident' hunter. We were just bemoaning the missed opportunity when the side-by-side growled up the road, with Lloyd's backpack in the tray. The driver (also Graham) commented that he'd had to floor it to catch up and was glad they'd stopped for a chinwag with us. We secured an invitation for a cuppa 'next time you're up this way', Graham & Lloyd rode off ahead, and Marg mounted then  spectacularly crashed off her bike!

The water-filled puddles were indeed deep: the track is all soft mudstone, known as papa locally, volcanic ash which is very soft and powdery and becomes horribly slick when wet, and its mud has the consistency of peanut butter. It is also very unstable, and around the bluffs the advice was to not linger at peril of rockfalls. After the 'road' gave way to single-track the ride, bridge, dismount, walk, ride rigamarole continued all the way to the Bridge. Sometimes, just for laughs, DOC would not put a 'Safe to remount' sign, and you'd have to work it out for yourself. I am, of course, making light of all this, but the memorial at the summit, the frequent name boards, and the current state of the track bear witness to the poisoned chalice offered to the WW1 returnees who cleared virgin bush to try to make something of this land.

At the Bridge itself, we were greeted by Thomas, hosting the Whanganui River Adventures day-trip, who told us our driver, Ken, was waiting for us at the landing 3km down the track, and radioed Ken to say we were on the way. When we got to the landing we found we weren't the last to arrive, as two other riders were coming in from Ruatiti. It was 12:58, 3hr37 from the junction. DOC was right! We were very muddy, a bit bashed up, fairly exhausted (and out in the open the sun was scorching), but elated!

Load up took little time, then off on the exhilarating river ride. No dramatics with the bikes on the boat, but Ken paused at a couple of points to talk features and history, and Marg & I reminisced about our paddle down this spectacular stretch of water 5 years ago.

Off the boat, up the hill to the campground, and a prolonged check-in process as Josephine collated two sets of booking records against 3 pairs of names, before 'guiding' all 6 of us around the facilities and our allocated cabins. Before Marg asked 'Are the keys in the units?' and it was back to reception to reconfirm the room allocations and hand out keys. The campground is brilliant, the organisation chaotic. 

We hit our only glitch when it came to cleaning up: I'd forgotten to pack our swim togs in the bags we brought (lightest 'decent' clothes to carry: Wendy's top tip) so we couldn't shower or do laundry until Ken arrived with the remainder of of our stuff. Marg gave up waiting and was in the shower when he arrived. With a big bag of food. And beer!

All in all, we concluded, an excellent day of Type 1 fun!

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