Saddle up for the Heaphy
The track from Golden Bay to the West Coast may be a great walk but, as Stu Hunt recently discovered, it's also a great bike ride.
Iwalked the Heaphy Track in 2005. It took four days. I had the track to myself – literally. Four days and three nights of lonely wandering from Golden Bay to the West Coast. There was no need to scooch over to let mountainbikers get past. There were no bikers. Or walkers. Not a soul.
I wouldn’t say that walking alone was the best way to do a Great Walk – scenery more or less begs to be shared.
But walking the Heaphy was and still is an excellent pursuit. A gentle way to roll slowly through country that morphs from dense forest to open coastline, without having to penetrate anything too dense or wild.
But that same wide and wellgroomed walking track makes a similarly inviting prospect on two wheels.
It may be slightly different in winter, when the tracks are a little slushy and the days bracing, but in September, two-wheelers outnumber those on two feet.
Nowadays, the Heaphy has transformed from a Great Walk into a great ride as well.
Riding the Heaphy isn’t technical. The track is mostly gentle undulations, firm and wide.
It’s still 80km, and the Perry Saddle is 900m, so it’s worth being semi-fit – at least broken in with some time logged in the saddle.
I joined a group of 12 other riders at the end of September through Helibike Nelson. The plan was to ride in from the Collingwood end and stay one night at Perry Saddle Hut and a second at Heaphy Saddle Hut before riding out to Karamea and being shuttled back to Nelson.
One of the nice things about riding with a group that large is that even if you spread out (and I was lagging a
fair way behind), you all hang out at the huts together, so they’re a little less spooky than when you’re alone.
While 900m may not sound like much, it’s still a bit of a grunt. A persistent climb. Biking the Heaphy means there’s a little bit of gear involved, so the extra weight does have an impact. I ground to a halt about halfway up.
Still, it’s just about as quick to walk uphill as it is to ride sometimes.
And loitering is a great way of taking in the scenery. Plus, Helibike’s Steve Newport has a lot of stories to tell, and he’s happy to share them. In fact, as guides go, he’s pretty handy – having done the Heaphy a few times now, he knows the track intimately.
He’s also a big proponent of the ride being more about the journey than the destination. Even if you go at my glacial pace, the first hut, Perry Saddle, is only about four hours in. The hut is elevated, so it’s a little fresh up there, but at this time of year generally the conditions are pretty mild.
If you have the legs, it’s a short climb to Flanagans Corner to take in the view.
Perry Saddle Hut is like a lot of the huts on the Heaphy: brand new, double-glazed, well-heated comfort.
However, the real treat is day two. The ride from Perry to the Gouland Downs is flat or slightly downhill until you reach Gouland Downs Hut. If you’re quiet enough, there’s a good chance of catching a sighting of a takahe¯ or two.
The hut surrounds are sprinkled with the husky remains of their fibrous diet, but follow the track for another 20m or so and you can watch them calmly going about their day. There’s a cave of sorts a short distance down the line that is worth a look.
Saxon and Mackay huts require a bit of a climb, but the scenery is livened up by the presence of teddy bears and the like carved into the mossy banks. Going slow helped in spotting these.
Once you reach Mackay, the downhill ride to Heaphy Hut is an exhilarating single track that goes on for a decent stretch.
This is handy relief, since you can get out of the saddle. The other side of not being fit is not being bike-fit. Not enough time getting acquainted with your bike seat.
Towards the end of this stretch, about five minutes from Heaphy Hut, is a spot where Steve’s intimate knowledge of the track comes home.
After a short spell of bushbashing, a hidden network of caves reveals itself. They’re a bit muddy underfoot, but not deep or tricky enough to require any gear more serious than a torch.
I imagine it would be a bit of a challenge to get lost – it’s not a massive cave system, but still deep enough to make sure you know you’re in a cave. Another plus is that there’s minimal narrow squeezing involved. This was a real treat.
Heaphy Hut has moved on a bit since the days where it was an old wooden homestead with an open fire.
The new hut is a 36-bedder and virtually brand new – and in light of the number of bikers using the track now, there are bike racks and a cleaning station.
This is at the mouth of the Heaphy River, and real sandfly country – but, in the tradition of rugged West Coast beauty, the hut has an enviable view of where the river drains into the Tasman Sea.
The ride out is the prettiest section of track, skirting the coastline and winding its way up a couple of small spurs to the Kohaihai River mouth, just a few kilometres out of Karamea. My legs were well and truly drained, so this was a slow leg, but even at my pace it still took only a shade over two hours.
The Kohaihai River mouth is a beautiful, restful spot. The sandflies must concur, since they hang out there in large numbers.
Karamea is a low-key little town, but it has something of an oasis feeling about it after a couple of days on the track.
For anyone contemplating doing the Heaphy by bike, it’s easy to manage in three days with reasonable fitness. The weather is still a little fickle, but September/ October is ideal timing, with the slightly more temperate climate and relatively low numbers of both trampers and cyclists.
I’m a bit of a dabbler, and this may be the most serious ride I do this year, but if I were contemplating doing more, this would be the ideal place to start.
The writer paid his own way.
The ride out is the prettiest section of track, skirting the coastline . . . to the Kohaihai River mouth.