Day 7: Napier to the Pureora Forest
Distance: 308 km plus a few random gravel roads
Weather: Sun sun sun
We'd read about an alternative route west from Napier called the Gentle Annie. In some books it was described as a challenging road with extensive gravel sections, serious twists and turns, and a remoteness worthy of respect. Our friends Hannah and Gareth, who had just driven it the day before, described it as a pretty route with nice views. Either way, it sounded like fun.
We spotted an interesting carving in a field by the side of the road on our way out of town...
Gentle Annie in no way matched our motorcycle atlas's grave warnings about tough conditions, but we had a pleasant, scenic ride back into the centre of the island. At one point we were sure we saw a sign directing us to a lake, so we detoured onto some forestry roads to explore...only to wind up half an hour later in an empty "parking lot" (aka gravel clearing) with no lake in sight. Oh well!
Near the end of Gentle Annie, we came upon the Springvale suspension bridge, formerly a traffic-bearing bridge and now a pleasant lunch spot.
We thought about camping for the night, but since it was only just after noon, we figured we had a few kilometres left in us. We pressed on, stopping briefly in Taihape for the obligatory photo of the giant wrinkly tin gumboot.
After perusing the map over an ice cream, we spotted a DOC campground in the Pureora Forest to the west of Lake Taupo. Department of Conservation (DOC) campgrounds are far more rustic than the holiday parks we'd been staying in, generally with just an outhouse and a water source. We were pretty tired of the packaged camping experience, so this seemed a good bet.
On our way we passed the Turino Mountain Road turnoff. Who's up for a little exploring?
Well, I was, and off we went along a rutted, potholed, middle-of-nowhere deep gravel road. This is what we're out here for! We even got to do our first stream crossing, which really just meant getting our feet wet as we rode through, but it made for some pretty pictures!
It was all good until we hit some deep sandy sections and I realized just how hard it is to keep a bike upright when it's pitching all over the place trying to find somewhere for the front wheel to grip onto. After I nearly lost control in a deep sand puddle that made my bike jerk around underneath me like it was on a slalom course, I let my inner wuss take over. I radioed up to Mike that I couldn't go any farther and actually, could he please come back and turn my bike around for me? *Hangs head in shame* Thankfully I redeemed myself slightly after realizing that if I am going to ride this bike, I'd better figure out how to turn it around myself when the going gets tough. By the time Mike got back to me, I was pointing the other direction, and no one really needs to know that I stalled it four times in the process!
Back on track, we had a great ride on the near-deserted road and arrived just in time to set up camp in a quiet corner and cook up a curry feast for dinner.
It was one of our more odd camping experiences. Turns out the Pureora Forest is a popular hunting and dirt biking location. No back-to-nature campers here. When we didn't have little kids ripping by on their tiny little dirt bikes, we were listening to our neighbours comparing their compound bows and shotguns and boasting about the day's kills! And perhaps most odd? The outhouse. Even though it looked brand new, I didn't have high expectations, but surprise of surprises: it was by far the cleanest, nicest outhouse I have ever used, and it smelled like vanilla. Really!
Day 8: Pureora Forest to home
Distance: A lot! Too much to tally over gravel roads
Weather: More sun (i.e. lots of sweating inside non-breathable motorcycle gear)
The next day we took the rest of the road through the Pureora Forest. We were sick of asphalt and it was a good chance for me to work on my gravel riding skills. Partway along we saw a sign pointing to the center of the island, and we just had to check it out. Sure enough...
The road was quiet and beautiful. For much of it, toitoi (pampus grass) lined the edges.
Again, we had no real destination in mind, but it looked like we could take backroads to Raglan, and that seemed as good a destination as any. We accidentally took a wrong turn somewhere along the way, but with views like this, we weren't complaining.
After backtracking north, we made it to the Kawhia Peninsula and picked up the unsealed coastal route rather than heading inland on the main highway. More twists and turns and gravel roads! We stopped in at Bridal Veil Falls to gawk at the sheer volume of water crashing down and admire some of the native foliage.
And then we made what was perhaps a slight tactical error. Within half an hour of Raglan, we turned off and followed a backroad that looked like it would get us there eventually, but in a more circuitous fashion. It challenged my skills with hairpin turn after hairpin turn on loose gravel, but it was all good, and we climbed high enough to get some pretty impressive coastal views.
It was now getting late and, given the number of campervans we were seeing heading out of Raglan, we started to doubt our "she'll be right" attitude towards accommodation for the night. When we finally got to Raglan, we called the first place that we saw advertising camping, and they promised over the phone that they had space for us. On arrival, though, it was clearly not the case. Back in town by 8:30 pm and every single place we checked (campground, holiday park, motel, hotel, pub, you name it) was full. Hmmm. I didn't really fancy sleeping on a park bench.
So, we had a late dinner and an even later coffee (double shot espresso!), and we hit the road about 11 pm, Auckland bound. The roads were quiet, the stars were out, and it was a magical time to ride. Poor Mike though was beyond tired and starting to nod off, so I decided to torture him the whole way back by singing over the radio. He got everything from "Whoa-o, living on a prayer, take my hand and we'll make it elsewhere..." to "So, my parents went away for a week's vacation, and they left the keys to the brand new Porsche..." to "Play that Nickolodeon, that magical music machine." Mike's laughter (or was it agony?!) kept him awake the whole way home.
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