Features

Ōtautahi Christchurch: City to Singletrack

Words Liam Friary
Images Cameron Mackenzie & Supplied

Christchurch is a city that’s moved so far forward in the last decade it’s hard to quantify the progression. Its rebuilding has transformed it into a vibrant and modern metropolis, and the city boasts a sophisticated vibe with an ingrained riding culture.

Great trail networks, bike paths, bike storage, and plenty of cyclists getting about. Head closer to the hills, and you’ll find mountain bikers pedalling or bikes racked onto cars bound for the nearest singletrack. The city offers a heap of riding options, primarily centred around Port Hills, Lyttelton, and Christchurch Adventure Park.

Our small antipodean country offers a plethora of riding zones and the southern locations are plentiful, boasting impressive descending metres; however, most of these riding spots don’t have a large city on their doorstep. This is where Christchurch sets itself apart. While I enjoy getting dirty, I also value quality food, well-brewed coffee, and comfortable accommodation. Perhaps it’s just my middle- agedness creeping in, but finding the perfect blend of outdoor play and city sophistication is quite satisfying. Coupled with major events that a city can attract, such as gigs, sports, or festivals, you’ll be searching for more days of leave.

As we crept close to summer, I spent a few days in the city. It was spring, meaning the weather delivered almost everything, but I still got the chance to get out and ride every day. The ease of getting out and about on the bike from the city centre is something I appreciate. The more I can ride and the less I must use a car to rack my bike, the better, even if there’s some bike path or tarmac to pedal before venturing into the singletrack.

Riding Zones

Port Hills delivers the goods right from the city’s edge. I found myself pedalling through suburban streets, and within twenty minutes, I was ascending the Port Hills. I quickly found that the network here is extensive. You could ride a different loop every day for a week and still have trails left to explore.

On the evening of my arrival, I managed to get a few hours’ riding in Lyttelton. The trails there are tight, bush-covered, and some are a little janky, but that’s balanced by the glimpse of the view. You can easily lap a few trails out before either heading over the Port Hills back to the city or descending into Lyttelton. The port-side town certainly offers a unique and cool charm with its old buildings and eclectic characters.

The Christchurch Adventure Park is the drawcard for many, and rightly so. The chairlift access means you can lap out without the uphill grind. The trails cater to every level, from mellow flow up to gnarly tech trails. On the second day of my visit, I lapped out a few flow tracks to get into the rhythm. The uplift meant I could keep my energy focused on the descents. I liked the fact that you can nab several runs in only a few hours. Once I’d had my fill of mellow flow with a bit of tech spice towards the end, I pedalled back to the city for some grub. Again, the proximity of the trails to the city means there’s no need for a vehicle. I thought about the variety within such a compact area. Only about twenty minutes beforehand, I was riding the bike park, and now I was eating some kai right in the heart of the city. For those keen to venture further, Craigieburn is only an hour and a bit up the road. It’s a different beast entirely: high alpine terrain with rocky, technical trails that demand your full attention. On another occasion, I squeezed in a day trip up there, and while it’s a world away from the Port Hills, it’s another option in the arsenal. The fact you can ride groomed bike park berms in the morning and be picking lines through alpine scree by lunchtime speaks volumes about what’s accessible from Christchurch’s doorstep.

Eating Out

Head anywhere in Christchurch, and you’ll find a heap of cafés and restaurants across a wide range of budgets and cuisines. I did think the city has certainly proved its point post-rebuild with the amount of very good eateries. The level has been upped in recent years.

In most spots, the hospitality was delivered in a relaxed manner, but it was dialled in. The well-curated menus and delicious food were something most joints had on lock. This made dining out on most occasions a great experience. And that’s not to mention the countless snazzy restaurants, hip cafes, and local bars pouring the best craft beers on tap.

Over the course of a couple of days, I sampled some of the fine fare on offer. Being posted up in the city meant I could venture out every morning for a good coffee, and often scrambled eggs, which are my go-to. On the backside of the ride days, I ventured to several good restaurants that each had their own unique culinary offerings, character, and vibe.

The first night after riding some of Lyttelton’s singletrack, I rolled into SUPER. This joint has a low-key vibe with artwork everywhere, mood lighting, and staff who are relaxed but helpful. Adding to the character, it’s also housed in the oldest standing building in Lyttelton. The blend of Māori and Japanese cuisine is seen throughout the menu, and one of the standout dishes was the paua and pork dumplings. There’s something about that casual, come- as-you-are atmosphere that works perfectly when you’ve just rolled in covered in dust.

On the second day, I was a little pressed for time, so I pulled up at the Riverside Market, grabbed a refreshing light lager from the small but mighty Christchurch Beer Collective and picked up some kai from Black Burger. After laps at the bike park, nothing hits quite like a good burger and lager from one of the local breweries. The craft beer scene deserves a mention, and Christchurch Beer Collective only pours beers from local breweries.

For my last dinner out, I ventured to Manu. The round loungers with a lazy Susan surrounded by plants make for a cool and cosy atmosphere. The cocktail menu is equally compelling and I ordered a Negroni to open the palate before browsing the Asian fusion fare. The dishes were incredible and shared plates are recommended. The Beef Cheek Rendang is simple but delicious and perfectly cooked.

Coupled with the riding zones mentioned above, this makes the transition from getting rowdy on the trails to tucking into good kai second to none. A solid day of riding is made even better by a good eating-out experience.

Other Activities

Whilst in Christchurch, I attended the trots. Yeah, I know this is a mountain bike publication, not a horse racing one. But hear me out for a moment. It was coupled with Infield, which had music artists Savage and Shapeshifter, so it wasn’t all bets, chinos, dresses, and horse racing. Christchurch is going hard to attract some major events and they’ve got them stacked.

The energy there was something else; thousands of people were out enjoying themselves, music pumping, the vibe relaxed but buzzing. It struck me that this is what a city with confidence looks like. They’re not just rebuilding infrastructure; they’re building culture and experiences. Even for someone visiting primarily to ride, having options like this makes the trip far more appealing. Your non-riding partner or mates can get excited about coming along.

One of these major events is Crankworx, which is returning to Christchurch for its second year. It was a success last year with a real vibe from riders, spectators, and industry. It infused the strong riding community that resides here, and that was evident when the final slopestyle event saw the crowd converging on every grass edge. I was there, and the atmosphere was electric; everyone was absolutely frothing.

The real cool thing is seeing so many young riders turn out in their droves either with their family or mates, and it’s always good to see them get stoked on the sport. I mean, if we can all do our bit to keep them in the scene, then the sports are in good hands for the future.

Crankworx has bigger plans for February, and it’s now part of the Crankworx World Tour. If last year is anything to go by, then it’ll be big! Heck, if you want to take the week off following Crankworx, then there’s Electric Avenue the following weekend. I’ll be aiming to do that and spending some of the week riding more locations on the city’s doorstep.

Beyond the big events, there’s plenty to fill rest days or evenings. The He Puna Taimoana hot pools in New Brighton are perfect for soaking tired legs after a big day at the bike park. They look over New Brighton beach, so you have nice views whilst you soak or sauna. The city also has a solid arts scene, with street art tours and an easy way to get around by tram. Coastal paths around New Brighton offer a different perspective if you fancy a cruisy pedal.

What I appreciated most was the options. You’re not locked into just riding. You can build a proper holiday around Christchurch – ride hard for a few days, catch a gig, soak in hot pools, eat exceptionally well, and actually return home feeling like you’ve had a break rather than just smashed yourself into the ground. That balance is rare, and it’s what keeps me coming back.

Eat | Black Burger, Christchurch Beer Collective, Kokomo, Manu, Rambler, Riverside Market, SUPER

Ride | Christchurch Adventure Park, Craigieburn, Lyttelton, Victoria Park, Port Hills

Stay | Drifter

Do | Crankworx Christchurch, Nostalgia Fest, Urban Polo, Around the Bays, Electric Avenue

Produced in partnership with Christchurch NZ

This article is taken from:NZ Mountain Biker, Issue #119

The Breakthrough Season

Words Joe Millington
Images Mikhail Huggins

29th April 2025 – It’s a desperately early 5.00 am flight at Auckland International Airport. I’m checking in my two enduro bikes on a Qantas flight to Sydney, then onto Colombo via Sri Lankan Air to compete in the Sri Lankan Open Enduro. For the first three months of the six-month trip, I’m travelling with my father. I’m a 19-year-old privateer racing first-year elite on the EDR World Cup circuit in Europe.

My father has invited himself along, and Mum has stayed at home to keep things running.

I’ve had a good NZ summer, competing in most of the enduro races nationally, the Downhill Nationals and Crankworx Rotorua. My best results were second in the Enduro Nationals at Cable Bay, Nelson, and third in the DH Nationals (racing an enduro bike) in Rotorua. It’s the first time in a while that I’ve been injury-free, and I’m feeling pretty fit.

I’ve been invited to the Sri Lankan Open by Shakti from MTB Sri Lanka. I’m not sure what to expect, but the trip sounds like quite the adventure. We touch down in Colombo late at night. Unfortunately, the bikes have not arrived, but Sri Lankan Airlines are extremely helpful, and the bikes arrive on the next flight the following morning.

All the competitors are staying in a mountain lodge resort in Padukka, and the race is set amongst the rubber plantation on the AYR Estate, the only MTB park in Sri Lanka. It’s excellent to meet riders from many Asian countries, including Nepal, India, Malaysia, Japan, and Indonesia, along with a large and very enthusiastic team from Oman. The level of excitement is infectious; the local riders are thrilled to have a rider from NZ who races on the EDR circuit competing in their home event.

It would be an understatement to say that it’s hot. At the top of each run with your helmet on, it’s hot, but when you remove your goggles at the bottom of each run, the hot air hits you like a hair dryer. You actually get warmer when you stop. The air-conditioned shuttle utes are such a relief.

The trails are in good condition, with each stage having a couple of challenging features. The trail builders have worked very hard; with ground foliage growing up to 12 cm a day, it’s a constant battle to keep the jungle back. After two days of exhausting, hot racing, I come away with a win. RG Ripper from Nepal is second. He had raced in the EDR the year before. We had a good battle and a lot of fun at the after-race party.

At the end of the race, all the locals come back to the race village, and the children of all ages ride the competitors’ bikes around the park having a great time. I couldn’t imagine this happening in NZ or Europe at the end of a race, and it will be one of the lasting memories of the event for me. Now onto Finale Ligure, Italy, for the first EDR of 2025.

The EDR World Cup is a seven-race Enduro series raced all through Europe and is the pinnacle of the sport, attracting riders from all over the world. Fully funded factory teams through to privateer riders like me operating out of the back of a van. At 19 years old, I’m the youngest rider in the elite field. It’s definitely a journey into the unknown and I’m up against legends of the sport. Names like Richie Rude, Jack Moir, Jesse Melamed, to name a few, as well as top NZ riders like Charlie Murray, Matt Walker and Eddie Masters. I really have no idea how I’ll go. I’m saying top 30 out loud but secretly thinking that top 20 is possible. My race plate is 95, and I want to improve on that.

Finale Ligure is a great place to ride, but a tough place to race. I ride as well as I can and push all the way, finishing 29th and happy with how I’ve gone. I now realise what I’m up against.

I’m up at 4.30 am the morning after the race to catch a 6.30 am Wizz Air flight out of Nice to Krakow, Poland, for the next race in Bielsko Biała the following weekend. What a contrast: the weather is freezing with snow falling on the practice day and a max temperature of 3 °C.

On the race day, the weather improves slightly to about 7 °C, but the surface is sticky mud, and the racing feels really slow. The big, powerful guys are in their element, and after a long, exhausting day, I finish 32nd with the race plate of 45. I’m on the improve and have broken into the top 30 overall. The local favourite, Slawomir Lukasik, has won his first World Cup, which sends the local fans into raptures. One of the highlights of this event is the crowds. Unlike Downhill, Enduro has no crowd fencing; you just have to stay behind the race tape. In some places, the crowds are leaning across the track as you approach through the rock garden at 40 kph, just moving back as you arrive, making the track very hard to see at times. It’s pretty out of control.

We have two weeks before the next race in Loudenvielle, in the French Pyrenees and spend eight days in Bielsko before catching a flight to Barcelona to pick up a campervan for the seven-hour drive to Loudenvielle.

I’m looking forward to the Loudenvielle race. It’s the first high mountain race, which means it’s very steep, and the stages are long. The rider who brakes the least and stays upright generally goes well. Last year, I finished second here in the junior race.

The day dawns sunny and dry, perfect for me. My race seeding is 31st and after the first three stages, I’m placed 17th. On the fourth stage, I really let it rip and feel like I’ve gone well. I check the live timing and – wow – I’ve finished fourth with one stage to go. The last stage goes even better with a third place after holding first for a while. This moves me to 11th overall. I’m over the moon, 11th in the world, not bad.

The next morning, after some celebration, we pack the van and head to Leogang, Austria via two days of riding in Finale. Leogang is in the Austrian Alps, a beautiful place with massive mountains with snow on the peaks. Another race with long, steep stages, and I’m feeling pretty good.

After some horrendous wet weather on the day before the race, the race day is a slight improvement, but still incredibly wet, muddy and slippery. I’m seeded 17th for this race. The top 30 always start later, rolling out after the elite women, and now I’m riding with all the big dogs.

I’m with Matt Walker, a New Zealand legend who won a World Cup two years earlier in Val di Fassa. Matt is a friendly guy and a very experienced racer, it’s a pleasure to spend the day riding with him. Looking around at the start of each stage, I feel like I’m in impressive company at just 19 years. The race itself is similar to Loudenvielle. I ride fast and clean except on the last stage, where I have an off, which drops me down on that stage. After six long stages, I finish in 13th place which is beyond my expectations. It’s a good night.

We now have almost three weeks off before the next race in Val di Fassa in the heart of the Dolomites, Italy, which I think is the most spectacular place on the circuit.

Before this, though, my friends Lachie, Cooper, Marcus and I have some summer sun and beaches to attend to in Split, Croatia. After a week relaxing in Split, we spend five days riding in Morzine, France before making our way through to Val di Fassa, ready for round five of the EDR World Series.

I’m ranked 11th for this race, my highest ranking yet. This is a four-day event, with two days of practice and two days of racing. It’s going to be a big four days.

After completing the first two days of practice, race day dawns sunny and hot. We have three stages on Saturday and four on Sunday. After the first two stages, I’m 18th overall, but the stages so far have been short, so the time difference between the top 30 is just seconds.

The third stage lasts over eight minutes, starting flat, but the last half changes to steep and technical. I start okay and feel I’m carrying really good speed. Carrying speed with the least amount of effort is the key to long stages. As the trail gets steeper, it suits me more and after 7:55 minutes, I finish fourth. This stage has broken the field up, and I move into eighth place by the end of the first day.

Again, the second day dawns sunny and warm. My goal is to hold my place and try to stay in the top 10. Over the next three stages, I finish ninth, ninth and eighth. A couple of riders have had some bad luck on the sixth stage. Charlie Murray has had a flat tyre, and Tarmo Ryynanen snapped his bike in half. This has moved me up from ninth to seventh. The last stage is short and sharp. I have Charlie half a second behind me, and I know he wants to be the first New Zealander.

I go really hard and just give it my all, crossing the finish line on my absolute limit. I’ve finished sixth on this stage, moving me up to a final position of fifth overall. I’ve just pipped Charlie by under a second.

Eddie Masters interviews me, and Charlie comes over for a chat. He’s disappointed in his earlier flat tyre, but he congratulates me straight away. Enduro is good like that: it’s about the race but also the riders.

It starts to sink in: I’ve just finished fifth in an EDR World Cup at the elite level in my first season. I’m the youngest rider in the field and the first 19-year-old to achieve a top five. My friends Lachie, Marcus and Cooper and the other New Zealand families are happy for me. We have a small and slightly exhausted celebration that night.

There’s still much more action to come in the rest of the season, but as of this moment, I’m very happy.

This article is taken from:NZ Mountain Biker, Issue #119

Crankworx in Aotearoa: Origins and Early Vision

Words Liam Friary, Ariki Tibble, Darren Kinnaird & Tuhua Mutu
Images Fraser Britton, Kike Abelleria and Clint Trahan

The southern hemisphere’s summer is now upon us! And that means Crankworx is returning to New Zealand in 2026 with back-to-back festivals. The Crankworx season kicks off at Christchurch Adventure Park from February 19-22, before heading north to legendary Rotorua from March 11-15.

Christchurch is stepping up big time, hosting full World Tour competitions including the Ōtautahi Slopestyle, Redemption Downhill, and Christchurch Pump Track Challenge. Rotorua returns with the Kārearea Downhill, Dual Slalom, Pump Track Challenge, and the Slopestyle in Memory of McGazza, plus a new event called the Skyline Double Down.

Two festivals, in two incredible riding destinations. Whether you’re there for the big air, the rowdy crowds, or just soaking up the gravity vibes, this is shaping up to be something special. Let’s take a look back and see how Crankworx became such a massive part of New Zealand’s mountain biking story. We sat down with the people who helped build it from the ground up to find out.

Taking the leap to the southern hemisphere: What made Rotorua the right choice for Crankworx’s first southern hemisphere stop back in 2014, and what were the biggest challenges in launching that inaugural 2015 festival?

Darren Kinnaird – Managing Director, Crankworx World Tour

When I visited Rotorua in 2014 for a site visit, I immediately fell in love with the place. The people, the culture, the riding; I knew there was something special here and we needed to bring the mountain biking world here. The biggest challenge was probably the time. There was less than nine months to get ready for the first ever Crankworx in the southern hemisphere in a place most of us had never been.

Equal pay from day one: Crankworx Rotorua was groundbreaking in offering equal prize money for men and women from the very first event. What drove that decision, and how did it influence the broader Crankworx World Tour?

Ariki Tibble – ex-Crankworx New Zealand Chief Executive

When we originally made the call to offer equal prize money from the very first Crankworx Rotorua, it never felt to me like a bold or radical decision. It felt obvious. New Zealand has a long history of championing women’s rights, and we grew up in a country where Kate Sheppard and the suffrage movement are part of the national DNA. Tak Mutu, as Event Director at the time, was our champion for the cause for the NZ operations and for him it was a hill he was prepared to die on if that’s what it was going to take!

Mountain biking was and is still relatively young as a professional sport, which meant we didn’t have the heavy machinery or deeply entrenched hierarchies that I imagine other more established codes might have to grapple with. In some ways, that gave us a gift. We had the chance to get it right from the start, before the cement had hardened.

McGazza’s Legacy: Kelly McGarry was instrumental in shaping Rotorua’s slopestyle course before his tragic passing in 2016. How has his spirit continued to influence the event, and what does it mean to keep his memory alive through the competition?

Ariki Tibble

When I first heard Kelly McGarry’s name, I had only just stepped into the mountain biking world. I didn’t yet understand its legends or its language, so discovering Kelly felt a bit like learning we had a sleeping giant hiding in plain sight. He was physically impossible to miss – six foot five, golden hair flowing, a presence that filled the room even when he wasn’t trying to. But what struck me more was how humble he was, the kind of person who didn’t need to announce who he was because everyone around him already knew.

I first met him properly while he and his best mate, Tom Hey, were shaping the early slopestyle course. I remember standing there, stunned by the scale of the jumps they were carving into the Rotorua dirt. I couldn’t fathom that a human being on a bike could do what they were building for.

But it wasn’t until I travelled to Whistler and walked the village streets with him that I understood who he was to others. We couldn’t move more than a few steps without being stopped. Parents wanted photos. Kids wanted autographs. Fans lit up like they’d seen a movie star. It was then that it landed for me what a big deal he was in the scene, even if back home he was treated like any other bloke.

His passing just a couple of years in shook the community deeply. But what’s stayed with me is how present he still feels. It’s like he’s just on the other side of a door – not gone, just in another room. His voice, his energy, his pioneering spirit linger in the atmosphere of the event. Big personalities have a way of staying with you like that.

Most of the athletes competing now never rode alongside him, yet they carry that same spirit he embodied. Kelly was often the first to drop in on a new feature, the first to test something. Today’s riders honour him every time they push past what seems possible. His legacy isn’t a memory. It’s a living current that still runs through Crankworx Rotorua and the World Tour.

Historic firsts: From Nicholi Rogatkin’s first- ever competition 1080 in 2016 to hosting one of the last major international events before the pandemic in March 2020 – which moments stand out as truly defining for Crankworx NZ?

Ariki Tibble

People often assume the defining moments in Crankworx come from the biggest tricks, the landmark podiums or the viral runs. And those things are incredible. But for me, the moments that stay with me the longest are the ones behind the curtain or under the hood. They’re the orchestral moments when a hundred different people, in a hundred different roles, each carrying their own small piece of the puzzle, somehow manage to come together and create something none of us could have achieved alone. That is the magic I fell in love with during my time working in the Crankworx realm.

One standout example is Loïc Bruni’s run on the Taniwha Downhill in 2023. The day of the race felt like the final boss in a 1980s video game.

Light was fading faster than we expected. Technical teams were stretching the limits of what had ever been done in a forest environment. We were relying on innovations like Starlink and a huge amount of force of will to broadcast something many people had told us wasn’t possible.

By the time Loïc was getting ready to drop in, it felt like the event had carried us to the edge of a cliff. Every challenge we had overcome, the logistics, the technical barriers, the timing, the pressure, had funnelled us into that single, delicate window. And, in the dimming light, Loïc delivered an extraordinary run. It was clutch and clinical and brave. But the reason it meant so much to me is because it also represented the collective clutch of the entire team. His moment only existed because of all of the unseen moments that came before it.

Had he not won that day, I think people would have rightly questioned our decision to push through the fading light. We learned from that experience, and we carried those lessons forward. But on that day, everything aligned. It felt like the mountain, the team, and the sport were all breathing in the same rhythm. Those moments are the tip of an enormous iceberg of collective efforts. And the great privilege for me was having a view and a deep appreciation of that iceberg in its entirety.

The Soul of Crankworx: You’ve described Rotorua as the “soul” of the World Tour (with Whistler as the “heart”). What is it about the Māori culture, the community embrace, and the Rotorua vibe that creates that special identity?

Ariki Tibble

Whenever I try to explain what makes Rotorua the soul of the World Tour, I always end up coming back to things that aren’t easily measured. It’s not infrastructure, or weather, or even the terrain, although all of those things matter. It’s the way people connect here. And for me, that understanding comes from my Māori side, from growing up surrounded by a way of being that teaches you how to welcome, how to include, how to weave people together so they feel like they belong. On my mother’s side I have Irish and Welsh heritage, which came with its own set of gifts. But the lessons about bringing people together, about creating cohesion and allowing people to show up as their full selves, came from watching my cousins on the marae at hui and tangihanga. Māori hospitality is not transactional. It is relational. It is about walking into a space and feeling seen. Feeling safe. Feeling like someone has anticipated your needs without you having to say a word.

Rotorua amplifies that. It is a cultural hub, a place where that way of being is not confined to ceremonial settings but shows up everywhere. Tourism operators, local businesses, volunteers, event staff, aunties on the street; everyone carries a little piece of that same ethos. Visitors often struggle to articulate it. They say things like “It felt like coming home,” even though they’ve never been here before. They feel the warmth before they can name the source.

That is what makes Rotorua the soul of Crankworx. It’s not just another stop on a tour. It’s a place where the event reaches beyond its own boundaries and becomes part of a larger cultural rhythm. The feeling people get here goes straight past the mind and into the chest. It hits the soul, which is exactly why that word feels right.

No spectators, all heart: November 2021 saw Crankworx Rotorua run in a COVID bubble with no public attendance. What was it like pivoting to that broadcast-only format, and how did the team keep the magic alive?

Ariki Tibble

The 2021 COVID bubble event was one of the most intense experiences our team has ever been through. Crankworx is a massive undertaking in the best of times, but the pandemic forced us into a pressure cooker that was shifting by the hour. By the time we reached the event window, that final 30-day countdown where every day increases your financial exposure, the team was already worn down from constant rule changes, public health updates, legal challenges, and uncertainty from partners. It felt like we were trying to build a plane in the dark while flying it through turbulence in uncharted territory.

The business model of any major event is unusual by comparison to other businesses. For Crankworx you spend 355 days preparing for ten days of operation. Your costs climb steadily and then exponentially as you get closer to opening. The day before the gates open is the moment of maximum financial risk and exposure because you’ve committed to the full spend but you haven’t truly earned a dollar. And here we were, in that two-week exponential window, with the expanding Auckland bubble and escalating COVID alert levels – having to refund ticket holders, cancel the expo, renegotiate positions with core partners, and defend our legal right to continue. Meanwhile, athletes had already travelled and were sitting in quarantine, vendors were already setting up and so many of our hard costs had already been incurred. Every element felt high stakes.

Yet despite the pressure, something remarkable happened: the team held together. People stepped into roles they had never done before. Decisions were made in real time collaboratively under immense strain. We took one step at a time, and at every twist another little magic door seemingly opened which we could walk through. And when the event finally took place, even without spectators, there was still something undeniably special about it. It revealed that Crankworx is more than the parts we think are essential. When some of those parts were stripped away, the heart of the event remained.

The consequences of that year rippled far beyond the festival itself. Not everyone felt like it should have gone ahead. We carried the fatigue, the financial impact and the psychological load for years. In some ways, we’re still carrying them now. But the fact that we delivered it at all is something I’ll never forget. It was a hard moment, but it was also a defining one.

Birth of the Summer Series: The Summer Series launched in late 2021, road-tripping through Alexandra, Queenstown, Cardrona, and Wānaka. What was the vision behind taking Crankworx regional, and how has that evolved into the Christchurch festival we saw in 2025?

Darren Kinnaird

The Crankworx Summer Series was born out of a “COVID pivot” of what can we do without mass gatherings. After we did it in BC, the team in NZ was like, “hey we could do that here too”. With so many great riding destinations in New Zealand and New Zealand being a home for so many great mountain bikers, whether they’re from New Zealand or not, it just felt like a no brainer. Christchurch is just the evolution of that original series and the original reason we came to New Zealand in the first place. World-class riding, people and Kiwi spirit!

Homegrown Champion:

Tuhoto-Ariki Pene NZ’s King of Crankworx in 2023 – a rider who started as a young grom at Rotorua in 2016. What does his journey tell us about the talent pipeline Crankworx has helped create in New Zealand?

Tuhua Mutu – Event Director, Crankworx New Zealand

When we launched Crankworx in NZ 12 years ago, we weren’t just bringing an event – we were bringing the world to our doorstep. The best riders, the best tracks, the broadcast machines, the pressure, the scale, the intensity – all of it arrived in our backyard. From the outset, the goal was clear: to show the world’s best riders why New Zealand should be their summer base, and to showcase our destinations, culture, and quality of life.

But the most powerful outcome was what Crankworx did for our own talent. Suddenly, young Kiwi riders no longer had to imagine what “world-class” looked like. Year after year, they could stand next to it. Feel it. Chase it. Hone their craft against the very best. Crankworx also created the platform for these young riders to be seen, giving raw Kiwi talent regular exposure to global brands and industry attention, and helping turn aspiring groms into emerging professional athletes.

Tuhoto was one of those kids. He didn’t just watch Crankworx – he grew up inside it, discovering what it takes to compete on the world stage as he went. Today, just two years on from Tuhoto’s King of Crankworx 2023 achievement, New Zealand’s gravity mountain biking talent pool has exploded to see the deepest and highest performing ever. Riders like Robin Goomes, Lachie Stevens-McNab, Jess Blewitt, Jenna and Kate Hastings, Erice Van Leuven, Ellie Hulsebosch, Sacha Earnest, Tyler Waite, Oli Clark, Charlie Murray, Joe Millington, and Toby and Rory Meek – not to mention rising stars like Winni Goldsbury – are pushing the pace internationally. And then we still have our seasoned veterans like Sam Blenkinsop, Brook Macdonald, Wyn and Ed Masters who continue to cast long shadows, remaining fiercely competitive across multiple disciplines on the world stage.

We’re proud to have helped nurture Kiwi talent from the earliest days, supporting many of today’s world-class gravity riders since they were kids. And the momentum hasn’t peaked – it’s compounding. With Crankworx now embedded in both Rotorua and Christchurch, the next generation is growing up with world- class racing in their own backyard every single year. That means more pathways, more visibility, more opportunity, and ultimately more Kiwi riders stepping onto the world stage. If this is what the first 12 years delivered, just imagine what the next decade could hold.

Christchurch’s debut: February 2025 brought Crankworx to the South Island’s largest city with NZ’s first FMBA Gold Slopestyle. What does having both Rotorua and Christchurch on the calendar mean for the future of mountain biking in New Zealand?

Tuhua Mutu

Back when the very first Crankworx event in New Zealand was conceived, part of the vision was to use the platform to tell a wider story of Aotearoa – recognising that every region has its own unique community, whenua, and culture to celebrate. Rotorua set that foundation, bringing together mana whenua, world-class riding, and a deep culture of hospitality that defined what Crankworx in NZ would stand for.

With Christchurch now on the calendar, that original vision expands in the best possible way. A unified national identity emerges – two regions, two communities, each adding their own flavour to remind the world of the quality of life our backyard offers. Rotorua’s geothermal forests, Māori cultural heart, and long MTB history sit alongside Christchurch’s Port Hills and Southern Alps backdrop, its rejuvenated bike-friendly city environment, and its fast-growing South Island scene.

Together, they form gateways to the wider North and South Island riding landscapes – the ideal playground for every outdoor enthusiast whether you ride bikes well or not! Two world- class Crankworx stops signal a new era: a truly national platform for mountain biking, more development opportunities for Kiwi talent, and a future where New Zealand stands even more firmly among the world’s great riding nations.

Where to next?: Looking at 2026 and beyond, what’s your vision for the evolution of Crankworx in New Zealand and its role in the World Tour? Are there new locations, disciplines, or innovations on the horizon?

Darren Kinnaird

New Zealand continues to be one of the best riding destinations in the world which is a key part of the Crankworx ethos. Who knows what the future holds but as long as there is incredible riding to share with the world in New Zealand, we are keen to help tell that story!

This article is taken from:NZ Mountain Biker, Issue #119

Sammie Maxwell

Words by Lester Perry
Images by Riley McLay

Back in issue #112, we spent time with NZ cross-country phenom, Sammie Maxwell, discovering what makes her tick, her history in the sport, and diving into her stellar 2023 season, which included winning the Under 23 XCO World Championships in Glasgow, Scotland.

Now two seasons on and at home in the elite women’s division, Sammie has wrapped up the 2025 World Cup season on a high. Sammie burst into the 2025 season with a historic win in Araxa, Brazil, becoming the first Kiwi to win a World Cup XCO race. Continuing her season with consistency and resilience, Sammie overcame crashes, mechanicals, and strong competition to take the overall series win, becoming the only Kiwi ever to win a World Cup overall title.

On the way to winning the overall, she finished on all but one of the XCO World Cup podiums across the 10-round series. Sammie won two, finished second at five, and third in two races across the series. Her ‘worst’ result was a sixth place at Lenzerheide two weeks after finishing second at the World Championships in Crans-Montana, Switzerland. As far as consistency and dominance go, Sammie has rewritten the rule book, flinging Kiwi riders into the global spotlight!

When did it first click that you could actually be competing for wins at the top level?

This year! Even when I was winning U23 races, I was always comparing myself to elite lap times etc., and seeing that there was a long way to go to be at the top. This season has been such a surprise to me. After winning Brazil, it felt very much like I was thrown into the deep end, with all that I had to learn, anticipate, and process. I was put into ‘fast-forward’. I remember, early this year in Feb at one of the Continental races, a man came up and said to me, “I think you’ll win a World Cup this year.” I just laughed and turned to my mate, shaking my head, and said, “Some people just don’t know what racing in Europe is like… there is NO WAY I’m winning a World Cup this year…”

Your victory in Brazil was a milestone for New Zealand mountain biking. How did that day unfold for you? What were you thinking about most as you crossed the line?

I wasn’t thinking anything other than utter disbelief! I didn’t know any milestones had been reached, and I don’t think it was what drove me to win the race. For me, titles or records are a cool bonus for a good result, but, honestly on that day (and every other race day) all I want to do is go out and be able to cross the finish line saying “I gave it everything I had – this result represents all the hard work myself and my support team have put into getting here.” It sounds cliché, but it’s true. For me, it’s just about honouring those around me and wanting to see what I can achieve if I hold nothing back, and about also seeing how hard I can push myself.

Has there been a turning point where you knew you’d done the right things to put you at the front of a World Cup and thought, “I’ve got this figured out now”? Maybe you don’t think you’ve got it figured out?

I am far from having everything figured out! In fact, at the end of the season, I sat down with my coach and manager and wrote a 10-page document (not an exaggeration) on my learnings from this year and aspects I want to improve on. But I think that’s the cool (and honestly hard) thing about sports: the moment you think you have it dialled, someone else who’s been working and pushing in the background will come past and overtake you! You’re only as good as your last race, and I’m someone who is constantly striving to be better. This season was very rewarding and showed me I have what it takes when I am given all the support and resources I currently have and am very grateful for. However, it also showed me the pursuit of being ‘the best’ is never ending and if you expect yourself to one day have the ‘magic key’ to winning, you’ll drive yourself mad!

You’ve had to fight back from crashes a few times over the year. What goes through your head when you hit the deck and know that you’re going to have to chase back? What’s the internal dialogue like?

The first thing I think…well, it’s probably something I shouldn’t write down… but after that, it’s just pretty basic thinking. In the middle of a bike race, we’re all working mostly off our ‘primitive’ brains; there is not much ‘reasoning’ or ‘emotion processing’ going on. So, when I crash, my thoughts are actually pretty funny to reflect on. I think in Andorra, my thoughts were things like “Get bike off ground!!”, “Top of hill. Go there”, “Pedal hard”, “Just get to top…” Honestly, things that don’t even make grammatical sense! But the key takeaway is that when racing, I always believe anything can happen, that I can get back to the front, and that all I can do right now is pedal as hard as I can. I try hard not to attach to voices doubting pacing, thinking about the other girls, etc. I just focus on myself, the pain in my legs and trying to get into a zone where nothing else matters.

From what I can find, 2025 looked something like this: 32 races, 15 wins, 13 podiums. That’s a seriously impressive season. When you’re chilling away from the races, do you ever pause and think, “Yeah, I did that”, or does it just seem normal to you?

This is the first time I’ve seen these stats, so I definitely haven’t thought about it! But I have reflected a lot on my season, and I’ve come to the realisation that while the results and wins are nice on race weekends as they give me moments to share with my team, they don’t actually mean as much to me as one would think (and as much as I once thought they would). Reflecting on my season showed me that what I’m most proud of is the way I used my voice to promote issues I really cared about, like mental and physical health, and the role I played in inspiring the next generation of riders to be strong, happy and healthy. Talking to and hearing from the young girls (and all the other fans) are probably the best memories I have from the season, not any moments on the podium or crossing the finish line.

Was there a particular race or moment that best summed up your growth as a rider through 2025?

Andorra was pretty special for me because it was the first race where I felt like the world got to really see my mental resilience. But I also think Lake Placid was pretty cool for me. Partly because of all the young riders that were there that I got to interact with, and also because of the way I ‘bounced back’ from a tough race in Lenzerheide. At the end of the season, I was actually really emotionally and mentally cooked, my eating disorder was wreaking havoc in my brain, and I was in a pretty bad place if I’m being honest. But I caught myself switching back to bad habits and reset my behaviours, stopping myself from ‘digging the hole deeper’. Old Sammie definitely would not have had the same mental perspective and awareness to do so and probably would have cracked hard in those last two rounds!

Did you have any behind-the-scenes challenges through the year that people may not know about?

Some included my studies and exams; balancing time with this and racing was a lot. And obviously, there were my eating disorder thoughts, which were a constant battle. It’s something I struggle to explain to people who haven’t experienced it, but some days it felt like I was being followed by a bear or something, and my body was in a constant “fight or flight” response; pretty exhausting, especially during race weeks. But luckily, my coach, team, friends, and psychologists would always help me return to a calm state, or remind me that the struggle wouldn’t be forever, and that I was strong enough to sit with the tough emotions or thoughts until they passed. Surviving a storm is always much easier when you know sunny days are ahead.

The race calendar is long and demanding. How did you manage your energy, mentally and physically, to stay consistent across so many rounds?

Staying focused on just the week ahead of me was pretty helpful. Breaking things down into small, manageable chunks is something we athletes are pretty good at. Also using techniques I had discussed with my psychologist and coach, like meditation, mindfulness, breathing, helped calm me mentally. While physically rest is pretty easy – rest days, naps, good fuelling, massages, etc! Basically, as you can see, a lot of this was me relying on others’ resources to ‘top up the cup’ when I noticed it getting empty, and it’s one of the reasons why I say I couldn’t have done this season as I did without the support of others!

Were there any particular changes that you made after last season that contributed to this year’s successes and the step up from last year?

I focused a lot more on skills – shoutout to Louis from Tuned coaching – and was eating a lot more. For example, I started doubling the amount of carbs I would race with and, during training, increasing my food intake by up to 50% on some days! I also changed the way I did pre-rides of courses and paid special attention to slowing down in my recon laps, to really absorb the details of the course and analyse the best lines for me.

At least in the MTB world, you’re now a household name. Have there been any noticeable changes in life as you’ve been thrust into the limelight?

People recognised me more, and I had a few more followers on Insta! I’ve actually really enjoyed this aspect of success; as I said before, I’m proud of the way I’ve used my increased social presence to promote messages of health and wellbeing. I’d like to think it contributes to making the MTB community a better place for everyone.

Do you have plans to make any changes coming into 2026?

I’m going to be putting more emphasis on therapy for my eating disorder and continue building to be the best athlete I can be for the future.

From a technical or tactical perspective, what do you think separates a ‘good’ XCO rider from a winning one?

I think having confidence in your ability makes such a big difference. If I had a bad start or crashed and found myself fighting for 10th position, etc. I told myself I belonged back at the front of the race. I wouldn’t “settle” into a group further down in the field; instead, I just kept pushing. It also meant I wouldn’t panic, sprint for one or two climbs, then blow myself into the red zone too soon. And obviously, confidence on the downhills is key to riding well. The worst crashes always happen after a moment of self- doubt, hesitation, and a big pull of the brakes!

How do you keep the fire going into 2026 after such a great 2025? Are there particular goals or races you’d like to tick off?

I’m always driven to push more watts, lift bigger weights, etc, so there’s no problem with motivation! I’m someone who just gets so much joy from the process of training that the results I get don’t really change this.

Maybe I’ve missed something, but where did the podium Marmite come from? I hope you’ve shared this delicacy with your teammates. What do they reckon?

I love Marmite. I have it with everything. I tagged Marmite in a post that said I needed some delivered to Europe as a joke, and they responded by sending me some custom jars! I’m glad to report that most of them don’t have the acquired taste (more for me), but a lot of the Brits and Aussies at the World Cups are jealous that I have my secret stash.

Are you doing any work back in the laboratory during the off-season? Any study happening? Are you still working on your French, or have you got that dialled in enough now?

I hope to be doing some in Feb, and I’ve actually enrolled in a Post-Graduate Diploma for Clinical Research next year, which will be the next step I need to work towards a PhD one day. I also love learning French, but I will take a break from that as I do more medical research studies; however, living with the French team is basically just one never-ending French lesson anyway!

Are there any other cycling disciplines that pique your interest and you’d like to give a nudge?

Definitely not cyclocross…I hate winter, the snow, and being cold, so you’ll never catch me sticking around in Europe during winter when I could be flying home to NZ summer. I am interested in road racing, but currently it would only be a way to supplement my MTB performances. I still have too many goals I want to achieve on the knobbly tyres before I start thinking seriously about joining the dark side.

Thanks, Sammie, for your time, and good luck for the ‘26 season. We at NZ Mountain Biker Mag will be cheering you on!

This article is taken from:NZ Mountain Biker, Issue #119

New Trail Guidelines

Words Meagan Robertson
Images Christian Wafer

What if being able to ride a Grade 5 in Rotorua meant being able to ride a Grade 5 in Nelson? And riders who rode Grade 3 Great Rides could confidently ride Grade 3 singletrack around the country? Well, that’s what the Trail Guidelines intend to achieve.

After months of research and review, the newly released New Zealand Mountain Bike Trail Design Guidelines have been released and are being distributed to trail builders nationwide, through Trail Fund. Updated by Recreation Aotearoa in partnership with DOC, Ngā Haerenga New Zealand Cycle Trails, ACC, and Sport NZ, the aim is to provide safer, more consistent, and more inclusive trail experiences to riders across the country by providing clear guidance for everyone involved in their design, construction, and maintenance.

Developed in consultation with trail builders, land managers, and riding groups nationwide, this third iteration of the guidelines includes everything from fine-tuned grading specs to new chapters on signage, auditing, safety, maintenance, adaptive access, and more.

The impossible task of updating the guidelines to the satisfaction of trail builders and mountain bikers across the country was led by Jonathan Kennett—who most will know from the Kennett Brothers long-time contributions to MTB grading and guideline development in Aotearoa.

“It was always going to be a challenge aligning different features into a single grade, because mountain biking is so diverse,” said Jonathan. “But I think where we’ve landed will please 99% of riders. The biggest change in the guidelines has been allowing steeper gradients and more features for downhill tracks, Grade 4 and 5 in particular, without those tracks becoming completely unsustainable. We’ve largely done this by adding new guidance for rollovers and chutes, which can be quite steep, so long as they have a reset section at the bottom.”

Why is the guidance needed?

The update comes in response to a Coroner’s recommendation to align trail safety guidance nationally, as well as mounting ACC injury claims. With over 5,500 injury claims and $22 million in ACC costs last year alone, ACC sees this unified approach as both timely and necessary.

A key step in unifying the approach was having the country’s two largest trail building organisations—DOC and Ngā Haerenga— on board. With DOC confirming it will transition to using the new guidelines, and Ngā Haerenga New Zealand Cycle Trails aligning its own specifications accordingly, the 2025 edition is a true national reference point—streamlining previously fragmented guidance into one accessible framework. “ACC is proud to support the updated guidelines, which are all about helping people enjoy mountain biking safely,” says Kirsten Malpas, ACC Public Health and Injury Prevention.“Consistent signage and trail grading helps riders choose the right trails for their skill level and reduces preventable injuries.”

Trail Fund invests in getting guidance in the right hands

“The Coroner’s recommendation is an admirable and valid request,” says Trail Fund co-president, John Humphrey. “But a monumental task for a trail system largely built by disparate volunteer groups around the country. That’s where Trail Fund comes in—we are the only national organisation liaising with trail builders around the country and we’repleased to be involved with this ongoing initiative.”

One of the key differences in this update is the addition of a Trail Builders’ Handbook, which offers trail crews a concise, field- friendly reference—complete with diagrams, benchmarks, and design dos and don’ts for each of New Zealand’s six MTB trail grades. These handbooks are well suited to be distributed by Trail Fund, which has carried out training for hundreds of volunteer trail builders over the past decade. The organisation is also well placed to encourage clubs to use them, especially those who receive funding from Trail Fund.

“We appreciate that every area and club is different, and trail builders collectively hold a broad range of skills and approaches,” says John. “However, we are confident those involved have done their homework and put forward high-quality guidelines that provide a robust framework for trail building around the country.

“This doesn’t mean the conversation is over. This is the third iteration of these guidelines, and we look forward to working with the trail building community on implementation to support the evolution of mountain biking and trail building.”

Trail Fund NZ will continue acting as a conduit between builders and Recreation Aotearoa, helping to channel on-the- ground feedback to ensure the guidelines stay relevant as the sport evolves.

What’s new?

This third edition builds on the earlier 2018 and 2022 versions. Key changes include:

Updated grading guidance:

Small but significant refinements have been made to gradient ranges, minimum widths, radius, and jump length specifications. These tweaks are intended to better align guidance with the realities of today’s trail construction and riding styles.

New chapters on signage and auditing:

For the first time, the guidelines offer detailed templates for signage and safety warnings, developed with input from the NZ Land Safety Forum. An auditing chapter is designed to help clubs and land managers assess trail conditions and confirm grade accuracy.

Improved safety design:

The safety chapter directly responds to coroner recommendations and ACC data. It introduces practical methods for designing fall-safe trails, assessing hazards, and mitigating risk without compromising rider enjoyment.

Stronger focus on inclusivity:

Building on the Outdoor Accessibility Design Guidelines released earlier this year, the guidelines provide specific direction for adaptive MTB trails, including grade specs and facilities for riders on three- or four-wheeled bikes.

New Trail Builders’ Handbook:

A complementary Trail Builders’ Handbook offers trail crews a concise, field-friendly reference—complete with diagrams, benchmarks, and design dos and don’ts for each of New Zealand’s six MTB trail grades.

What it means in practice

Over the years, trail riders have lamented how a Grade 5 trail in Rotorua differed from a Grade 5 trail in Nelson. Based on the newly published guidelines, here are the differences:

Grade 4 – Advanced

Track width 0.6–1.0m
Surface Mostly stable, but may include loose rocks or variability
Obstacles Up to 200mm high
Berms Up to 40°
Jumps 1–7 m long, 10°–30° ramps; all features must be rollable
Drops Up to 400mm, rollable
Uphill steps Up to 200mm
Concurrent features Up to 3 at a time
Risk Exposure possible; suitable for riders with excellent skills and experience

Grade 5 – Expert

Track width 0.4–0.8m
Surface Widely variable; roots, rocks, ruts common
Obstacles Up to 500mm high
Berms Up to 50°
Jumps 1–12 m; may not be rollable (b-line or bypass required)
Drops Up to 1,000mm
Uphill steps Up to 500mm
Concurrent features Up to 4 at a time
Risk Steeper, narrower, and more technical than Grade 4; higher exposure and consequences

Where to find the Guidelines

The full New Zealand Mountain Bike Trail Design Guidelines and the new Trail Builders’ Handbook are now available online at Recreation Aotearoa, Trail Fund NZ, DOC, and other partner websites. Printed handbooks are being distributed to trail building groups around the country via Trail Fund NZ.

To support understanding and adoption of the new content, Recreation Aotearoa is hosting two free webinars in late August—one for land managers and one for trail groups. Registration links are available online.

This article is taken from:NZ Mountain Biker, Issue #118

Interview: Emma Bateup Highland Trail 550 Winner

Words Liam Friary
Images Lisa Ng, Henry Jaine & Emma Bateup

Recently, Emma Bateup made history as the first woman—and seventh overall finisher—of the 2025 Highland Trail 550 in Scotland. She completed the gruelling route in an impressive four days, four hours and 27 minutes.

Mental Game.

Your recent success at the Highland Trail 550 was one for the books! At what point during those four days did you realise you weren’t just competing in the women’s category, but potentially setting an entirely new standard?

“I felt like I was riding well from the start; I was feeling good and around people I knew were fast. It was on the second afternoon that I checked the tracking and saw that I was sitting in third place, which blew my mind. Prior to that I’d mostly been focusing on myself and where the second placed woman was (Kerry MacPhee and I had such a close race until she had to pull out). Unfortunately, then I started overthinking it and made time costing mistakes. But it was very cool to feel like I was part of the whole race. As the sport is getting faster, it’s becoming more common for women to be pushing the pace too and riding into strong overall placings. It’s pretty special to be a part of that.”

Home vs. Scottish Highlands.

Coming from New Zealand’s adventure racing scene to Scotland’s Highland Trail 550, how did your experience with New Zealand’s challenging terrain prepare you for the unique demands of Scottish bikepacking, and what surprised you most about the differences?

“I knew going into the race that the terrain and weather would be similar to NZ, so it was nice to feel fairly at home straight away. To have experienced plenty of challenging river crossings with bikes proved to be valuable, a big part of which is knowing when to not attempt a crossing. Sometimes it’s better to come up with an alternative plan or wait for other riders to cross together. The weather was a big factor in this year’s race, with one of the worst editions they’ve had. Living in Wellington for the past few years set me up perfectly, the wind and rain was on a par to a stormy day back home (so just four days in a row of it!). Having experienced similar conditions frequently, I was confident in what I’ve learnt about clothing choices and trusted the gear I had. The biggest difference I found was the daylight hours, especially in the northern part of the route. One night never got completely dark, there was still a faint glow behind the clouds. This meant that riding through the night was much easier, and I never quite lined up my few sleeps with darkness; the combination of cold and light skies didn’t result in much sleeping anyway! On a lot of the trails there were drain ditches built across the trail with rocks, all varied in size, some easily hoppable and a few not so much. It took me a while to get confident on them and on a few I misjudged the size, resulting in flat tires.”

Home vs. Scottish Highlands.

Solo Sufferfest.

The Highland Trail 550 is notorious for its hike-a-bike sections, unpredictable weather, and river crossings. Can you walk us through your lowest moment during the race and how you mentally reset to keep pushing forward?

“My lowest point was on the morning of day four; I’d missed two key resupplies the day before due to a tactical error and ended up rationing my food for over half a day. It ran out with a while to go to the next town, and the hunger kicked in. My energy levels got super low and with it, my mental state. There were a lot of tears! But I kept reminding myself that the quickest way to solve it was to get to the next town so that kept me moving forward. The motto was ‘the only way through is through’. Pulling out was never an option; the long trip from NZ is very good motivation to finish a hard race.”

Key Equipment & Statistics.

Given your completion time and the technical demands of the route, how do you balance carrying enough gear to handle emergencies, with maintaining the speed necessary to be competitive? What’s the one piece of equipment that saved your race? Do you have overall stats of race data, food, and travel to/from?

“Finding the balance between being lightweight and prepared/safe is something that’s coming with experience. After a big learning moment during an event earlier this year, a key takeaway was that being lightweight doesn’t necessarily translate to being fast. I’d had to stop and find shelter because I wasn’t carrying enough clothing to keep moving, which lost me far more time than just carrying a bit of extra weight would have. Going into the Highland Trail I knew that sleep wouldn’t be as necessary due to the length of event, so I took more clothing to use while moving instead of sleeping gear. The most important part of my kit was my Ground Effect raincoat—I pretty much lived in it! Even when it wasn’t raining the wind chill was a big factor so using it as a windbreaker kept me cosy.

Adventure Addiction.

You’re described as someone who’s “always plotting and planning the next endeavour”. With Highland Trail 550 conquered, what adventure planning is currently keeping you awake at night?

“The next big adventure on my horizon is the Tour Te Waipounamu early next year. This is the event that kicked it all off for me and it’ll be my third time racing. My brain is already swimming with ideas for gear setup and race strategy; with every event comes a heap of learning, so I’m always excited to put it into practice. There are a few local challenges that will make for a good leadup, along with a few ‘shorter’ races to keep things interesting!”

The Women’s Field.

Your victory puts a spotlight on women in ultra-endurance bikepacking. What do you want to say to women who look at events like Highland Trail 550 and think “that’s impossible for me”?

“The most important thing is just to start. Start with something small and work your way up. No one got anywhere overnight, it takes lots of small steps to get there. Push your boundaries at the pace you feel comfortable with, and with challenge comes experience and confidence. I’m a big believer of jumping into the deep end, which isn’t for everyone, but you’ll find that your limits are so much further than you think.”

This article is taken from:NZ Mountain Biker, Issue #118

Cost-Conscious Components

Words Lester Perry
Images Thomas Falconer

“Take a sad song and make it better” – Hey Jude, the Beatles. If they’d been mountain bikers, they may well have called
the song “take a new thing and make it better”.

It’s only natural that in times of rising living costs and high inflation, the tools we use for our hobby will also increase in cost – and they have! The price of new bikes continues to climb, and the cheapest way to get an improved ride is not necessarily to buy a completely new bike, but perhaps upgrade key parts on what you’re already riding, although, those too are getting more expensive.

Regardless of whether you’re looking to upgrade an aging bike or make some changes to a new but low-spec ride, we’ll take a look at some ways to get better performance by making incremental, meaningful upgrades without blowing a massive wedge of cash in one hit.

Frame

Beginning with the most expensive single part, and heart of the bike, the frame. Unless the bike is a couple of generations old, the most significant change that platform has undergone is likely a change of colour, or at best a minor tweak in geometry. Most brands run on a 3-year development cycle so, unless they’ve recently made a fundamental change to their lineup or a particular model, chances are the bike you’re riding (unless it’s over six years old or slightly unusual) then it’s likely that, with some tweaks, it could be made to ride similarly to that shiny, front-page-of-Pinkbike, rig you’ve been gawking at the price tag of.

Perhaps the frame you’re on is just not up to the task any more, but its components are still OK. If it’s time for a change, an alloy frame could be the ticket to modern geometry and tech without the price tag of an otherwise identical carbon frame. Although the most obvious difference between an alloy and a carbon frame is the price tag, there are other differences too. The weight can’t be overlooked; an alloy frame is generally at least 500g heavier than a carbon equivalent, although often that figure can be closer to 1-1.5kg. Depending on what sort of riding you’re doing, that extra weight may or may not make much of a difference. In other words, the more pedal-focused a ride, the more the weight counts. It’s worth noting that, in general, the alloy frame sits at the lower end of their range, meaning less development and construction tech goes into it. These things keep the price down, but they do impact the weight and ride quality. Frames from brands that’ve adopted an ‘alloy only’ philosophy, like Commencal, differ slightly in that they’ve put more time into tuning the bike’s feel and flex through more advanced tubing, so arguably these offer a better ride quality. These will usually cost more than a basic alloy frame, but still less than a carbon one.

There’s another glaring advantage with an alloy frame. Once the bike has been through its lifecycle and it’s been thrashed beyond recognition, the frame can be recycled, not just turfed on the scrap heap. Carbon frames aren’t recyclable in NZ, or in most of the world. Although factories have made their manufacturing processes as green as possible, the fact remains that broken or old carbon bikes don’t break down, and instead last forever at their final resting place.

Say, for example, you have an older, but still current enough, carbon frame that’s perhaps sustained some damage – for argument’s sake let’s say it has cracked around a shock mount. If the frame is under warranty, it’s worth beginning with that process as soon as possible; however, if not, all is not lost. A good carbon repair specialist, in many cases, can repair a cracked frame to be as good as new, getting you back on your bike, preventing a carbon frame from ending up in the landfill, and saving you some head scratching as to how you’ll afford a new frame. A carbon repair will almost certainly void the warranty of a frame unless it’s approved by the brand, so be sure to explore your options before committing to a repair if the frame is still in a warranty period.

Let’s say you’re happy with your frame, or you’ve saved some money by purchasing a bike with a decent frame that’s got a low spec on it, aiming to upgrade parts over a longer term. Which upgrades are worthwhile adding to your ride experience, rather than just being a change for the sake of it?

Frame Bearings

Even the latest frame from a reputable brand could have dodgy bearings, limiting how supple its suspension is after just a few rides. Rough or sticky bearings drastically affect not only the levels of grip at the tyres, but also the overall bike feel and enjoyment, as more bumps will be transmitted to the rider.

Staying on top of frame pivot axle and bearing health is key to keeping the suspension running optimally. There’s no point working on tuning or servicing a rear shock if the frame bearings aren’t running freely. A good place to start is to remove your shock and cycle the rear end through its travel. If it’s anything other than completely smooth, we’d recommend removing all pivot bolts and axles to inspect them and the bearings. Hopefully, a simple clean and grease of axles and bearings may remedy the issues. Simply use a small pick and carefully lever off the outer bearing seal. Using a degreaser on a brush or from a pressurised can, can help clean existing grease from inside a bearing if it’s not looking fresh. Pack the bearing full with a bike-specific bearing grease before pressing the seal back into place. If you’ve found a seized bearing or popped a seal off to find rust within one, then it’s time for replacement. A clean and regrease can easily be done at home if you have tools, a little know-how, and some time to watch YouTube tutorials. Bearing replacements are best undertaken by a bike mechanic, although if you have the correct bearing press already, then chances are you know what you’re doing already.

Free-running frame bearings are a simple way to help renew a frame and make the bike feel like a million bucks again.

Brakes

Effective brakes are an integral part of a ride experience, and as they can degrade slowly over time, you may not even realise how bad they’ve become. A good set of brakes with consistent power, feel, and modulation will do their job without you even thinking about them. If you have doubts about the effectiveness of your brakes, this is a great place to consider an overhaul or replacement.

New pads and larger, or unworn, rotors should provide better stopping power than you currently have. If fitting either, it’s worth bleeding the brakes at the same time. A brake bleed ensures your braking isn’t hampered by old fluid or air in the brake lines. If a bleed, fresh pads and new rotors aren’t going to be enough to resurrect a pair of brakes to their former glory, and a full service isn’t likely to help them (a good bike mechanic will know), then new brakes could be in order.

Some brakes have a limited lifespan, particularly some models that use DOT fluid, as their seals swell and degrade over time. Although they can be repaired, it’s usually more cost- effective to replace the entire brake. Don’t stress about needing top-of-the-line brakes; Often, the internals of a brake lever and calliper are identical, or close to it, across a range and in most cases, the only difference between the top level of a range and the bottom is a different finish and a small amount of weight – this of course is reflected in the price.

Fork

As with brakes, the differences between various levels of the same model are few. Weight is generally quite close between the levels, but it’s the internals where the most obvious performance differences are.

The simplest way to rejuvenate an existing fork is to give it a service and, depending on how long it has been since its last service, this could be a simple procedure or a complete tear-down. If you’re chasing performance above what the fork was capable of when it was new, a damper upgrade could be just the ticket.

A damper upgrade on a low to mid-range fork is the most significant performance gain available to a fork. In most cases, a low-end chassis can fit the top-end damper from a given model, meaning you could end up with a low-end chassis with high-end internals and performance.

One example where a damper upgrade is better than a replacement fork is on the front of a frame we’ve been using as a review mule. The fork is a couple of years old – a Rock Shox Lyrik Ultimate—and by no means a low-end offering, but technology has moved on from when this model was in the market. During a service, while the fork was in parts, a new Charger 3.1 damper was fitted. The upgrade offers wider, more useful adjustability, better small-bump compliance, and less harshness – what’s not to love? For a fraction of the price of the most recently released model, this fork was upgraded to perform identically to the new model.

Similar upgrades can be made to most brands’ forks. Although there are limitations that dictate the extent of the upgrade and the advantages gained, if your existing fork is in good condition and you’re looking for a better experience, fork upgrades are a great option.

Tyres

For under $200, you could make your bike feel completely different. Fresh tyres enhance all aspects of how a bike rides through by providing increased and more consistent traction. Depending on where you ride, a faster tyre with lower knobs than you currently have could be much quicker and still offer an acceptable level of grip for your local trails. If you’re running some OEM (original) tyres supplied on a new bike, the change to something similar but with better sidewalls and rubber compound could mean a huge step up in handling and confidence, although visually they may not look too different.

If you’re not already running a tubeless setup, this is a worthy investment, although it will likely require a new set of tyres if yours aren’t designed to run without tubes. Tubeless offers better traction, improved puncture resistance and the ability to run lower pressures for better handling and traction.

There’s a lot of subtlety with tyres, and what’s ideal for you depends on how and where you ride, as well as a certain amount of personal preference. New tyres are a great place to look for performance gains. Just be sure to spend some time experimenting with tyre pressures to find what’s optimal for you.

Wheels

Don’t overlook wheels as a place to get some simple performance advantages. Much like frame bearings, new or freshly serviced wheel bearings make a surprising difference to how a bike rolls and maintains speed. Beyond servicing what you already have, if the wheels are overly heavy or beyond repair, a fresh pair could be in order.

OEM wheelsets are continually improving and, generally, now offer a decent build quality and weight for a price point. If your wheels are reasonable, but rolling on cheap hubs, simply stepping up the bearings to something faster rolling will make a difference. Often to shave dollars, OEM hubs are spec’d with sub-par and short-lived bearings, while the rest of the wheel is pretty reasonable, so replacing them gives great bang for buck.

Depending on the style of riding you do, where you’re riding, and how much budget you have to spend, there are a lot of options available for complete wheel replacements. Lighter weight means a bike will be more nimble, but different rims and builds also have different stiffness characteristics, so there’s a bit to consider. Much of the time, it’s going to come down to a balance of price, weight, and overall quality. Don’t overlook some of the large bike companies’ aftermarket offerings when it comes to an outstanding balance of these three qualities. Particularly Specialized’s Roval or Trek’s Bontrager complete wheel sets, which offer fantastic value and are legitimately good wheels.

Dropper Post

Most bikes come out of a factory with a dropper post that is suited to the middle of the bell curve of what height rider is likely to be riding it. Unfortunately, this can mean you may end up with a post that has either too much or too little drop. Too much, and it’s too high at maximum height when extended. Too little drop and the post won’t drop the saddle as low as would be ideal.

There are multiple dropper heights available, ranging from 80mm to 240mm, so you’ll likely find one that suits you, regardless of your height. However, you may need to try a few options to find the optimal one.

There are limitations, particularly with older frames, as to what length dropper they can handle due to shaped seat tubes or hardware interfering with insertions. With a bit of research and a tape measure, you should be right. It’s not the cheapest upgrade, but the optimal length dropper is an ideal place to spend some money, particularly for those who are battling with what they’re currently running. Particularly if your current dropper needs some love, a new and better optimised unit would be money well spent.

This article is taken from:NZ Mountain Biker, Issue #118

The Kahurangi 600

Words Lester Perry
Images Sam Horgan

The Kahurangi 500 is a bikepacking route on the northwestern side of NZ’s South Island, looping around the Kahurangi National Park and surrounding areas. The K5 is generally ridden from Motueka, covering around 500km. In our case, though, to ease logistics, we started and finished the ride in Nelson, pushing the lap to roughly 610km.

Riders take the K6 as everything from an FKT attempt to a week-long holiday mode cruise thanks to multiple public huts along the route. We had a varied crew, made up of has-beens and never-weres. Ex-downhillers-turned-enduro dads, an Iron Man, and even a winner of the prestigious Melbourne to Warrnambool cycle race. We wanted the best of both worlds: a solid effort without the sleep deprivation or hunger bonks of a single push. Allowing four days gave us the perfect balance of pedalling pain and long stationary stints, eating, and generally chilling, mainly talking about the good old days.

With the Kona Hei Hei in for review, I figured it could be the ideal tool for the task, as Kona had been singing its virtues as a bit of a do- it-all bike with a lean toward the XC and trail end of the spectrum. I threw on some XC tyres, strapped on some bags, and got to work.

Day 1. 168km, 2100m, 8:45hrs.

Departing Nelson just after dawn, we headed out through coastal cycle trails to Motueka for a late breakfast. Eggs on board, and some bike setup tweaks done, we climbed the main road up the Takaka Hill, a roughly 15km 800m vertical effort. Plummeting down the Rameka MTB track was only interrupted by a flat for Sam Horgan, and eventually delivered us to the Takaka supermarket for supplies. With no proper resupply for the next 24 hours, we were forced to make an unorganised and lengthy meander through unfamiliar supermarket aisles. Another few k’s up the road and we made a stop at The Mussell Inn, a roadside pub, for a large dinner and some live music. A pint each and the pub stop was done just as the night set in. Into the night and towards the head of the Heaphy track, and our bed for the night at Brown Hut. A sketchy fire dulled the blow of the autumn temperatures as we slipped into a coma for night one.

Day 2. 147km 2336m, 9:14hrs.

After a chilly tin of creamed rice and over an hour of faff, we set off into the Heaphy, only to stop metres in, to remove our lights that we’d just fitted as the sun was up, smashing our intention to be on the trail pre-dawn. The Heaphy is an underrated backcountry trail featuring some great sections of fast-flowing trail. Unweighting the bike to dodge sharp rocks was a challenge thanks to the added weight of loaded bike bags. Today was James Rennie’s turn for an issue. As the clock struck noon, James slashed his tyre, dumping all its air and most of its sealant onto the greasy rocks. Tyre plugs were ineffective, so a makeshift tyre boot was fitted, and James completed his fix with multiple wraps of duct tape around the wheel and tyre. Sure, it was unorthodox, but it held for the remainder of the trip!

The diversity of terrain through the Heaphy is unreal, from trees hung heavy with moss to stunted alpine growth and, finally, we were spat out on a Nikau palm-lined beach on the West Coast. Riding the road for a solid stretch down the coast, our only solace from the headwind was hiding behind Sam, who by some margin was the tallest and strongest of our group. The sun was slowly starting to dip as we came to our next resupply, the Karamea Four Square.

Now fully loaded with food, speculation was rife as to how many climbs—and how far—it was to our next destination and a lay down. Whatever our guesses were, we were all wrong, especially those of us who ended up riding through to Seddonville, overshooting our destination of Mohikinui, where Sam had ridden ahead to ensure the pub was open and order our dinner. With an extra 10 kilometres under our belt after the Seddonville detour, we arrived at the pub in Mohikinui to meet a somewhat concerned Sam, two beers deep, wondering where we were. All was forgotten after a deep sleep in a campground cabin’s saggy bed.

Day 3. 121.62km, 2656m, 9:16hrs.

After the debacle of day two’s extended morning faff, we rose earlier on day three, riding into the rain at 5:45 am. It’s fair to say we were all somewhat dubious about what was to come, not only with the weather but also how tough this day could be, as we would essentially ride the Old Ghost Road in the reverse of how it’s generally ridden.

Climbing from the get-go, we slogged up technical pinches and meandered through dense bush, the last couple of days riding making themself known as the trail began to get steeper as we climbed away from the river.

Skyline Ridge was an absolute highlight of the day. Even on a bike that wasn’t loaded with gear, this would be a tough climb, but add on all the gear, and it was an absolute beast. Steep, rugged switchbacks made picking a line difficult, and traction was a challenge; my legs could only take so much. I was stoked to make it much further than I expected to before detonating, resorting to walking a couple of sections. Arriving at Ghost Lake Hut for lunch, we marvelled at the view and huriedly downed whatever can of energy drink we’d brought with us, washing down yet another muesli bar. A quick top-up of our water supplies and we were climbing once again. Fortunately, it wasn’t long before we were on the main descent, which would take us all the way down to almost sea level. Partway down this descent, we realised the error of our ways. Built to be climbed, this mellow, non-technical descent seemed unending. The only real obstacles to avoid were groups of people slogging their way up towards the hut for the night.

Not far from the bottom, we came across a keen gent who’d been climbing with one of the groups we’d passed earlier. He was descending back to his car at the trailhead, with a completely snapped seat post. Turns out, loading a massive bag with what appeared to be 20kg’s worth of gear, and hanging it from your saddle is a bad idea. Fortunately, it was all coasting back to his vehicle, not a single pedal stroke needed.

Crossing the 21st, and final, bridge of the day, we were done. As the sun dipped behind the hills and we headed into the final stretch of the day, I discovered I’d punctured in the final metres of the trail. A classic pinch flat with air coming out of the tyre bead and further up the sidewall. Mint. A couple of plugs and it was game on for 30k’s of road into Murchison for another FourSquare resupply, a hot roast meal at the pub and a couple of night-caps before passing out in an ice-box of a campground cabin—although no saggy bed this time!

Day 4. 168.45km, 1696m, 8:06hrs

Breakfast was varied. To each their own, as some would say. A tall can of ‘V’ and Cup of Noodles; a Monster and a chocolate milk with a One Square Meal bar; creamed rice, protein milk and muesli bars; our final morning meant all the nutritional rules were out the window. We ate what we had and didn’t complain. On the road pre-dawn once again, this time to the head of Lake Rotoroa and onto the Porika Road climb. To say this climb is horrid is an understatement: 3.2 km long, gaining 454m and an average of 14% with some seriously steep stretches. My average speed was just 4.5kmph! Sam rode the entirety of it with one small dab, and the rest of us slowly dragged our carcasses to the top with a mix of knee- breakingly slow cadence and calf-destroying walking. The beauty of walking parts, though, was that we had a chance to breathe in the cracker views down the lake. Truth be told, once uploaded to Strava, we discovered we actually made good time to the top, compared to many. We’d eked out any remaining energy we had, so after Red Bull, packs of gummy snakes, yet more muesli bars, and some hearty banter, we descended for literally kilometres… right to the door of the Tapawera Four Square for pies, coffee, and lots of food my cardiologist would frown upon.

Following the Great Taste trail towards Nelson, our patience for mellow bike paths had waned, and we cracked on, swapping turns on the front. Needless to say, Sam’s pulls were the longest. Arriving back in Nelson, it was a tough decision between going directly to the pub for a huge meal or doing the responsible thing and packing our bags ready for the next morning’s flight home. Responsibility won, and dinner waited until we’d done our chores. The meal was spent reliving the previous few days, amazed at how much we packed into them and how epic the Heaphy and Old Ghost Road trails are, and all the better when linked together.

My takeaways from the trip were many, but here are a few: Big solo days in the saddle pushing hard are great, but they’re best shared with mates. Going hard and fast is fun, but it’s just as fun to chill in a camp cabin and sip whiskey while whinging about all the climbing you’d just done. It’s all good until it isn’t; being prepared is key to making big days successful and not needing to walk back to somewhere with a broken seat post. The Heaphy is underrated; it’s a fantastic ride, and although the Old Ghost sure gets more limelight, the Heaphy is equally worthy. Always remember earplugs, an eye mask, and a water filter; forgetting these can make or break a trip into the unknown.

This article is taken from:NZ Mountain Biker, Issue #118

Built on a dream

Words by Riley McLay
Images by Riley McLay & Greig Howell

In the world of big air, nowhere is more iconic than Dream Track. Nestled in the heart of the Wynyard Jump Park, the crown jewel of Queenstown’s ever-growing trail network has drawn riders from around the world to experience the massive airtime it’s become synonymous with.

The ‘world’s largest public jumps’ are instantly recognisable by their meticulously shaped lips and perfectly calculated flow. Featured in countless films, edits, and reels, this line has seen many of the sport’s top riders leave their mark, each bringing a unique style and interpretation to how the jumps can be ridden.

But Dream Track is more than an arena to showcase skill—it’s a meeting place for the Queenstown mountain biking community. An open, inclusive space where riders come to learn, share and progress together. And, like Rome, it wasn’t all built in a day. Dream Track is the product of years of evolution, fine-tuning, and relentless community passion, shaping it into what it is today.

Some people might not know that the line was originally built for a segment in the cult classic film New World Disorder 5, where Dave Watson and Grant Allen ticked off a number of freeride zones during a New Zealand and Australia tour. The line was constructed in 2005, along the remnants of an old access road to a former forestry block. It consisted of four main hits, finishing with a massive road gap step-down that landed in what was the early iteration of the Mini Dream area. This was a time well before resource consents were needed for trail building and definitely before anyone was worried about health and safety. Thankfully, the Queenstown Mountain Bike Club (QMTBC) had a solid relationship with the local Queenstown Lakes District Council (QLDC), which gave construction the green light. The mastermind behind the build was Nathan Greenwood, who did most of the digger work himself. For its time, the build was impressive, even if it was a world away from today’s standards.

Once the film crew had moved on, only a small group of locals had the skillset to ride the jumps. Keen to keep developing the line, the club struggled to justify funding a track that only around ten people were using. So, most of the changes that followed were small tweaks, made primarily to suit those few regular riders. One of the most notable of those riders being New Zealand Freeride legend, Kelly McGarry, who made the move specifically to Queenstown to ride and train on the jumps. Knowing how much it would mean for the growth of the local scene, a plan was set in motion in 2014 to extend and improve the line. Spearheaded by Emmerson Wilken and Conor Macfarlane, the duo managed to convince QMTBC to allocate a budget for the work. A nine metre left hip into a 10-metre step- up was added, linking back into the four original jumps. This ‘new school’ layout opened the line to a wider range of riders, better suiting the bikes of the time and making it far easier to session.

With the lines growing popularity, they knew they were only scratching the surface of the area’s potential. Inspired by the impact of events like the Fest Series, and the possibility of hosting something of that caliber in Queenstown, they knew they needed to build more jumps and bring the rest up to modern standards. The goal was to build steeper jumps—more like BMX or 26-inch dirt jumps, just scaled up for downhill bikes. The vision was to hit a wall of dirt at high speed and launch to the moon! However, gaining support outside the club was difficult, as the local tourism board had yet to see biking as a worthwhile investment.

In 2016, after extensive consultation with the local scene on how best to utilise the terrain, a revised layout and cost estimate were presented to the QMTBC. A budget of $3,000 was allocated for the build, with most of it going toward diesel for a brand-new digger that was generously donated by local construction company, Veolia, for a two-month window. The rest of the effort and manpower would be entirely volunteered, with a long list of locals lining up to donate their time. The primary goal was to build three new jumps above the existing line, and if any budget remained, work would continue on the lower section of Dream Track. The two-month window to complete the build happened to align with the very first McGazza Festival—an event created to celebrate the life and legacy of Kelly McGarry. As part of the festival, a memorial jam was planned to officially open the newly revamped Dream Track, making the build feel even more meaningful for everyone involved. After over 250 hours of digger time and countless hours of volunteer work, the jumps were nearly finished and just needed the final test before they were good to go. Normally, guinea pig duties would fall to Kelly or Conor. But with Conor out, recovering from an injury, the job landed on Emmerson. Would the ol’ eyedometer prove accurate? The build wasn’t based on any exact science, just past experience. The only way to know for sure was to huck it. To their surprise, the jumps worked perfectly on the first try, and only minor tweaks were needed before the jam.

The first iteration of the McGazza Fest Dream Jam was as grassroots as it gets, just a crew of Kelly’s friends sending it huge for the big man. Since then, it’s grown into one of the most anticipated events on the mountain biking calendar – all on the back of no marketing or advertising for the event. One social media post goes out for the date of the event, and word of mouth does the rest. A major drawcard for spectators is not just the chance to watch a mix of star-studded pro riders’ session the jumps, but also the opportunity to see their local mates sending it alongside them. The club uses the event as a fundraiser, with proceeds coming from a sausage sizzle, a raffle, rider entry fees, and merch sales — including the popular McGazza tees. At the 2025 event, over 3,000 people packed the hillside to catch a glimpse of the action. It’s also become competitive to secure a spot in the lineup, with organisers capping the number of riders to 100 on a first-in, first-served basis to help manage congestion on course. This past year’s event introduced an under-19s category to open for the main show, giving talented up-and-coming groms a chance to showcase the future of the sport. Even though these young riders would be too young to know Kelly, and maybe not able to fully grasp what he accomplished, it’s inspiring to see them carrying on the culture that Kelly embodied. This upcoming event will mark 10 years of McGazza Fest, and organisers are planning to go all out for the occasion. There’ll be an even greater focus on Kelly’s memorial and legacy, along with the return of crowd favourites, like the live band — all to make it the best event yet!

Following the post-COVID boom in mountain biking, the local government has pushed to further develop Queenstown’s riding infrastructure, recognising the economic benefits the sport brings to the region. This includes attracting large-scale events like Natural Selection Bike, which even used Dream Track for its pre-qualifying round, to maintain the marketing momentum and reinforce the global push to position Queenstown as one of the world’s mountain biking meccas. Many come to ride the iconic Dream Track, but the nearby Mini Dream area and wider riding network has also become popular for riders to progress their skills and work up to the larger jumps. The club’s ‘build it and they will come’ mindset has paid off—helping foster a community that’s eager to push their limits, while minimising risk through higher-quality trail options. However, upkeep and maintenance of the Dream Track area still rely heavily on a small crew of dedicated volunteers, who are left to manage the consequences of this increased traffic. As a result, there’s been a strong emphasis on education and signage to encourage riders to use the hill’s irrigation system and water the jumps before riding.

There’s also been a push to riders to not take the jumps for granted and to only ride them when they feel ready. This follows an uptick in emergency callouts across the Queenstown network. With vehicle access to Dream Track and the greater Ben Lomond area difficult at the best of times, injured riders often have to be airlifted out by helicopter. The QMTBC and QLDC are acutely aware that pushing one’s limits can lead to real-world consequences, and have committed to supporting Dream Track while doing their best to ensure it is as safe as possible. Their goal is to ensure the track thrives for generations to come. This includes future-proofing the hillside by chaining off and closing the tracks for winter to preserve the jumps and prevent inexperienced riders from riding them in poor conditions, and planting native trees alongside the jumps to replace the windbreak if the remaining pines from the original forestry block fall or are removed.

The full line currently stands with 14 features, with the biggest sending you 60 feet to the sweet spot. Spanning 570 metres, the line’s average speed is well over 50 km/h taking riders about a minute to ride top to bottom. Those involved are extremely proud of what they’ve achieved with Dream Track and admit the riding still hasn’t gotten stale. That said, there are always plans in the works to build on, with ideas to add a few new features—including a trickable step-down, a full right hip, and a spine—to really round out the line. The goal is to be the icing on the cake to what’s already one of the most complete jump lines out there. Like Rome’s Colosseum, Dream Track stands as both a monument to the riders who came before and to the community building for the future. It’s more than just lips and landings — it’s the heartbeat of Queenstown’s riding scene, proof that when a community dreams big, the world will show up to ride.

All proceeds from this project will be donated to the Queenstown Mountain Bike Club for the maintenance and upkeep of Dream Track for the 2025/2026 season.

This article is taken from:NZ Mountain Biker, Issue #118