Silence and sleep are snatched from me as a rooster announces the new day at 4:30. It seems there are two or three and they’re chatting away like pensioner siblings reunited after decades apart. I think there are three catching up on plans for the day but it is difficult to tell in my tiny tent, cocooned in my sleeping bag with dewy mist holding the night close. Their voices reverberate around the valley trailing off into the darkness with no sunlight visible. We want to get away early as it will be our longest day today and we want to see the sunset at Cape Egmont, just not before sunrise!

We’re quietly rolling through a valley with the birds announcing it is morning and livestock welcoming us as we pass. Hills on the right have us hemmed and are gently shepherding us away from their harsh incline. However the hills on the right want to out flank is and are racing ahead making me wonder if a climb is approaching. Fortuitously this valley is one where the hills fade like a wave coming up the beach and we simply pass without a climb into the next valley.

We pass a gully being logged and a big machine holds itself steady on the unforgiving terrain while gracefully fumbling large logs as a toddler would play with toothpicks. The hills already cleared appear as the gave of an old man who shaved with a blunt blade. Stumps mar the land and fresh soil patches appear like the bits of tissue staunching the flow of blood.

From Lepperton we get a boost from the pie, cream donut and couple of cans of drink. It speeds us along the waterfront track and almost into New Plymouth. Well we are going into town to get a Subway which will be stuffed in the bag for later. I eat and drink more before we leave and head out of town properly. And then I’m slow. Even slower than on day 1 when an older lady on a pink bicycle over took us. It is a kind gradient we’re climbing but it feels like I’ve ridden further than I’m capable of and I’m now operating like a toy with an almost flat battery. The subway is devoured at Pukeiti Domain which signals 36km left and I’m refreshed by sucking my head under a tap.

From there I come alive on the next climb, am energized by the next down, then countdown the final rolling hills before a 14km 30-50km an hour descent. It no longer feels like I’ve ridden over 110km everyday for the last 7 days and it doesn’t feel like I’ve already ridden 150km today. Mount Taranaki comes out from behind the clouds she has pulled up over her head like me with my sleeping bag after the rooster crowed. Then we see the lighthouse and up the pace arriving to my parents waiting in the sun. We celebrate with ginger beer, wash off in the Tasman Sea, load the car and behind the journey home.

It is cold in the shadows as we leave Taumaranui and most of the initial 15km has us tucked in under the protective wing of hills to the East. Occasionally there are puddles of sunshine that I deliberately coast through without pedaling in the hope the heat will penetrate my layers of clothing.  Suddenly I’m in the middle of a cicada summer symphony as I pass a thicket of trees bathing in the morning sun. Once in the shadows again there is the low rhythmic hum of our tyres accented by bird song and sheep saying good morning. A ute passes with a dog on the back pacing from side to side unable to choose between the river and the paddocks. I can almost here him talking to himself, the river is cool, but the sheep I can chase. I could swim in the river but bark at the sheep. And so this conversation goes on as he walks in circles unable to pick and they disappear around the bend ahead.

We have several hills to climb today but nowhere near as many as the previous couple of days. Mercifully the hills today are all on tarseal. While I choose dirt for riding it makes climbing more challenging. In addition to requiring more effort from the legs (and lungs), uneven bumpy surfaces make the rest of your body work hard too as you bounce upwards. The rhythm of pedaling matches my breathing with the cadence of my pedals keeping my heart rate in check.

Stop at Ohura for early lunch and chase the shade given the heat is out and roaming the streets looking for anyone to attack. It is laughable that early today I was begging the sun to shine on my and now like a scorned lover I’m avoiding contact. We apply sunscreen to stop the burn knowing it won’t stop the heat and head off. Again with an up hill and all our bikes start to creak and groan a little. Nothing is wrong, they just haven’t had a shower each night like we have despite deserving the same care. Part way up the climb there is a 60 maybe 70 metre high tree. It towers over us hemmed at their feet by ferns and wearing pants of the trees that come up to their water like a toddler standing by their parents.

It seems there is a maximum number of cattle or sheep that a farm fence can hold. Or perhaps it is a ratio of 1:1000 because occasionally there is a cow or sheep out on the road. Some we pass relatively easily, others run ahead and don’t let us pass regardless of how wide we attempt to go around them. Two we use the other lane and put on a full sprint as though we were overtaking in a car. Later another time beside the fence and panics after I’ve passed attempting to leap the fence. They miss and cartwheel over the fence landing on their back with their legs still attempting to run. Quickly the stand up and disappear into the herd now safely away from us cycling on the road.

Whangamomona is on the Forgotten World Highway but lively with motorbikes, motorhomes, and cyclists. This is the final night of KA and fittingly I’m in my tent with no reception. Tomorrow is planned to be the longest day out to Cape Egmont arriving at sunset to a different ocean on the other side of the North Island.

There is a complex formula that links my speed and temperature. The last two mornings have been cold so my speed as been slow so I don’t generate enough breeze to chill me. Later in the day my speed needs to be high enough to generate that cooling breeze but not so high I create even more heat! I’m rolling slowly trying to generate more warmth than the breeze is snatching which is convenient because I’m feeling a little tired. Yesterday was a big day of climbing and today is likely going to be the same and we are off-road for 100km!

The forest is incredible and later in the day we marvel at how despite it being midday, we’re mostly in the shade. Like a jack in the box we pop into more open bush every now and then. As we do this a Kereru is surprised and takes flight. Without looking I know it is a Kereru from the distinct sound of the wind flap but like a kid caught staring at the growth on their great aunties nose I look up and watch. Flight isn’t effortless for them and I feel a connection as he gradually overcomes gravity to fly away. I will (eventually) overcome gravity and am probably putting as much effort and noise into riding at the moment. Today we reach the highest point of the Kopiko Aotearoa. At 971 metres above sea level it is only about 100 metres less than Tour Aotearoa. There is no celebration and it isn’t even a check point. Rather it is a short break before the start of a long and fun down. Even with the bike fully loaded and tyres best suited for tarseal and light gravel I’m enjoying the descent. I’m doing my best not to brake and not to pedal so am swooping like a hawk with it’s wings stretched out. There is no flapping, just a slow crest over the small rises in this perfect piece of mountain bike trail.

As the track levels out we take a short break and as I’m shoveling biscuits in my mouth and washing them down with water some other KA riders pull up. They’re riding West to East (the opposite to us) and they’re not enjoying themselves as much as us. They’re on bikes better suited to the road and light gravel with skinny tyres and have panniers rattling around behind them like oversized dag wool. We tell them about the great descents they’ll have that we rode up and omit anything about the climbs they will face. One of them comments that he thinks the tracks aren’t very well maintained. We don’t respond but agree after they’ve left that the tracks are amazing and they’re possibly just looking at it from the perspective of a road rider as opposed to a mountain biker.

Of course Alastair and I have different perspectives on parts of this route. Often it takes a circuitous detour off road that is typically slower and longer. Alastair jokes we’re taking a 15km hour long adventure instead of a 5km 15 minute main road direct route. The day ends in me taking an 11km back road route with a moderate hill to Taumaranui with Alastair and Keith on state highway 4 for 10km of largely flat. We arrive at McDonald’s within a minute of each other with having somehow had a tail wind and them having mostly had a head wind!

Tomorrow we start then Forgotten Highway and ride 108km (our shortest day I think) to Whangamomona. I think we’re all hoping for an easier day and decent meal at the only establishment there, the pub!

I’m back riding a track that comprises TA but this time I know it is the right track! I’ve been looking forward to this because I knew it would be in the shade. I’m hot now but earlier today I was cold. The hills were kind and rolling much like the gentle curves in a duvet on an unmade bed. The challenge is the up part is neither long or steep enough to raise my temperature. If I were still in that unmade bed is pull the duvet up and banish the cold. It is in contrast to the final 30km of yesterday where I felt a little like a microwaved mince pie. Mostly it is constant but around one bends is a blast of cold and the next an assault of heat.

As is the case on these routes the tarseal gives easy to gravel and the hills keep coming. At the top of one climb is New Zealand’s only bison farm. The only one we can see is a plastic statue with Christmas decorations hanging around his neck. Done with the first big climb today we descend on gravel. There are boulders spotted all over the hills similar to pimples on a teenagers face. No pattern or consistency in shape or size. Between the crunch of my tyres chomping through and biting terra firma and the wind shhh’ing through my helmet straps there is no chance of hearing any vehicles. We see very few on and when we are 150m away from SH1 see more cars race by then in the previous 40km and will see in the remaining 80km.

We cross to the Waikato River trail that while green as the surrounding land is silky smooth, gently flowing, caressing the edge of the land. Occasionally a gentle breeze throws ripples over the surface and coolness on our now hot bodies.

We end up close to the geographical centre of the North Island in a cabin.

It isn’t much but there are showers and a kitchen. We won’t need to pitch tents or pack them down damp in the morning.

For the first few hours we ride towards a mountain. It looks like a small version of Ruapehu and is largely alone on the wide and flat expanse we’re pedaling through. I wonder if it is guarding something and trying to keep us away as it blows like me riding up a hill trying to half my progress. While it is a headwind, it keeps the temperature bearable although my shirt that didn’t quite dry overnight stays damp as we battle the wind in a very lazy manner. Fight to hard now and we won’t make it to our destination.

We get further and further away from civilization and pause at a school to top up or water bottles as we know the next 60km has no supplies and no streams. The tarseal winds through a pine forest and occasionally we ride besides a train line. Soon there is only gravel and the trees seem to take a couple of steps towards us. It isn’t threatening, rather it is friendly and we catch little pools of shade. There is a 10km climb which starts with a kick but then levels out enough for us to be riding at 12-14km up hill on our loaded bikes. I’ve discovered a new safety feature which happens in full sunlight, after applying sun block, then sweating a little. My arms become silver and reflective. This must be working because on this road dozens of trucks see us and slow while moving out of our way.

The 60km drought is broken by a tap on the side of a small country school hall. Then it is 10km to a shop followed by 6km to the hot pools. As we get close to a main highway we’re suddenly directed off the road and into the coolness of a forest for 3km of splendid single track. If we had stayed on the road it probably would have been 1km but I enjoy this track much more. Here my safety is in my hands and I don’t need to trust others to be watching for me, largely the trees stay well clear and quietly applaud (rustle their leaves in the wind) as I ride past smiling.

The final 6km is made up of a 2km hard climb, another 2.5km of easy climbing, then a 1.5km screaming descent. I don’t want to brake but my shirt is coming unzipped as without effort we accelerate like a fighter jet preparing to take off. The zip of my shirt can’t hold and begins undoing as my speed passes 70km and it starts flapping like a ground bird attempting to escape a predator. I begin to worry that if it comes undone the GoPro will fly out and knock Keith off and my phone take out some of Alastair’s teeth. At 80km I reluctantly fan my brakes a little to keep my shirt from being blown from my body. It’s levels out a little and the speed begins to slow but before it drops below 50km I spot the camp site and brake hard to make the turn. We arrive in plenty of time to enjoy the cafe (kitchen closes at 6pm) and to sit in the hot pools. There are another half a dozen Kopiko riders here and they are all going the opposite way to us. We swap stories of what is ahead while hoovering family size portions from the cafe guzzling fluids like a V8 drinks gasoline.

It rained overnight but wasn’t around 4am when I had to make a dash in the darkness to the toilet. But when I woke it was raining again. Pack down happened quickly and mostly under a porch to keep things dry. When we departed it wasn’t raining and it didn’t fit the first hour or so. We were winding along a valley surrounded by protruding hills. They were all different sizes and at different angles making them already like the crooked teeth escaping when you smile.

Then we climbed up and over a saddle to get to the Pakihi track. A quick pause to eat have rain the opportunity to come find us and it tried to soak us but tree cover on the track meant we missed the worst of it. Gravity does a better job of accelerating my bike than my legs do and we were whooping downwards leaving into bends then hurriedly braking as we carefully navigated slips.

Lunch was in a shelter shed the rain seemed content you stay with us so we put our jackets on before heading off. Content that we were prepared for the weather, the rain then decided to go away and within 10 minutes we were around to remove the jackets and apply sunscreen. Gravel gave way to tarmac and a head wind decided to test out attitude. Immediately without speaking we formed a pace line and quietly rode 1km on the front before the next person came forward and sheltered us from the wind. Silently we wound or way along the black tarmac keen to eat in Opotiki.

With 70km complete and 50km to dinner we left and spent the next few hours on and off SH2. I’m riding the wrong way to get home and it isn’t much fun. Maybe a third of drivers slow and give us plenty of room when overtaking, but another third seem more intent on seeing how close they get. The remaining third probably don’t even notice us sweating in the heat burning calories like they’re burning gasoline.

Close to Whakatane there is a farm track to ride and at first we’re not impressed. It is step enough to make us walk but the down is magnificent. Rain as cut it’s way through the farm track rendering every line you take the wrong one with them all ending with us needing to carefully bounce through a drain or take a precariously narrow high line. Each time we successfully exit one another choice is immediately in front of us and it doesn’t matter which line we choose, they all have a poor exit. Writing this now I’m wondering why it was such fun… I guess that is a question many would ask about adventures like this. Yes they’re physically hard, but oh so rewarding. And tonight, we’ve rewarded ourselves with a cabin so I’m about to jump into a proper bed and sleep until the fluids I didn’t sweat today scream loud enough to be heard over the snoring.

An early start, quick coffee, then 4km ride to the beach revealed a stunning sunrise. I dipped my rear wheel in the Pacific Ocean and set off for the Tasman Sea. After 4km we pulled back into the Airbnb and had breakfast, after all it was still only 6:40am. Then we set off proper loaded up with food for 2 days.

The weather was dreary and couldn’t seem to decide if it was going to rain or not. That indecision seems apt given the impact COVID had on the ride. Would it go ahead? Yes, but on a very altered track and shortened distance. I was looking forward to the Rere waterfall and it didn’t disappoint. Not the fall part, but the water looked pretty polluted. The weather probably was a good thing here because with the cooler, grey and dampness I want interested in going under the falls and into the pretty ugly water.

The rock slide wasn’t any better and while very tempted, the water quality really put me off and the poor weather gave another excuse. As we left the drizzle set in and made everything wet for an hour or so. But at the summit of the final climb the sun came out and we descended with blue skies only stopping for sunscreen.

The final kilometres if the day were in SH2. We had turned right onto it and I kept thinking how if I turned left and rode for several days I’d be able to the turn right onto my street. Matawai has a general store and takeaways plus the campground serves meals. Fantastic except I was carrying plenty of food. I did get a scoop of chips as an afternoon tea / pre-dinner / post ride calorie intake. Then it was onto the usual bike packing tasks. Sleep the tent, shower, sort little bits on the bike, make dinner, clean up etc.

So it is day 1 ends with a little over 112km, max speed of 57km, and 1482m of climbing. Tomorrow we plan to make it to Whakatane, eat a proper meal, and possibly even get a cabin so we have a proper bed.