Toby + Rory Meek: Redefining past conventions

Words & Images Riley McLay

New Zealand has always punched well above its weight when it comes to producing high performing downhill racers on the international circuit. New Zealand racers have always been synonymous with a DIY mentality and lifestyle-based approach, largely popularized by the VANZACS.

However, with the sport moving rapidly to a more professional outlook, the qualities that set New Zealand riders apart in the past may not be so fitting in today’s racing climate. Even with some of the most recognisable and world renowned tracks for training and progression, the Kiwi racing scene faces the conundrum of a steady decline in the number of junior riders making their way through to competing at elite level. This could be due to a change to the unpopular format UCI has adopted, or the broader financial pressures faced by race teams and support systems in and around the races. Not to mention the agonizingly close times being laid down by some of the top riders. Amidst these challenges, one Queenstown-based family is on a mission to redefine past conventions and bring a high performance framework to their racing on and off the bike.

TOBY AND RORY’S RACING HAS TAKEN THEM ALL OVER THE WORLD. FROM A YOUNG AGE, THEY HAVE CHASED BOTH BMX AND MOUNTAIN BIKE RACES ACROSS EUROPE, NORTH AMERICA, OCEANIA, ASIA AND SOUTH AMERICA, ACCUMULATING A COLLECTION OF NOTEWORTHY RESULTS.

The Meek family have always had the mindset that success and innovations tend to grow from humble beginnings. Originally Dunedin based, Kiwis Steve and Donna packed up their lives and moved to Hong Kong in 2003. As a young couple, they sought the adventure and experience of working life as expats. Both avid mountain bikers, they were able to take advantage of the plethora of tropical jungle trails that Hong Kong offers. It wasn’t long before their two sons, Toby and Rory, had arrived and were introduced to a life of riding bikes. The boys would quickly make the jungle their own. As a family, they would constantly add to the network of trails around them, building their own tracks for the boys to hone their skills. The boys adapted to a racer’s mindset, both forming their pedigree from BMX racing – in which they have represented New Zealand at a world championship level, multiple times. The boys bounced between racing BMX and mountain bikes and as their skill levels progressed, Steve became frustrated with the limited options available for bikes for the boys to ride. With most bikes at the time weighing a tonne, they were not suited for younger riders. Steve made it his mission to create a solution so that the boys weren’t being held back and could further progress their skills. It started off with adapting one of Toby’s BMX bikes with a 100mm travel fork, from a 26 inch mountain bike. This created a bike that was far lighter than the mass market kids bikes, and the forks gave Toby more of a fighting chance for riding control when it came to getting down steeper trails. Being a hardtail came with some limitations, but it allowed Toby to go out riding with Steve. Soon enough, Rory also needed a boke, and with Toby outgrowing the capabilities of the hardtrail, Steve took it upon himself to come up with something bolder. Steve went out and sourced a size small Giant Trance and chopped it down to create a custom full-suspension bike for Toby. Resizing an adult frame to accommodate a child isn’t as simple as it sounds. Steve had to formulate the best possible design for shrinking the frame to allow enough stand over height for Toby to fit the bike and be as comfortable as possible. With his firsthand experience and seeing an obvious gap in the market, Steve formed MeekBoyz, a bike company whose goal is to provide the world’s best high performance downhill bikes for children. The MeekBoyz design criteria centred around the bike performance, weight, tailored geometry and, most importantly, a full-functioning suspension system for young riders with capabilities to ride down more advanced trails. Having a composites background, Steve chose carbon fibre for the bike frames and rims. It was a no-brainer as it is light, more versatile than other metals and has long-term durability. Working with carbon is a highly labor intensive task and requires a large work space. Fortunately, being based in Hong Kong enabled Steve to access and set up in the epicenter of the carbon bike industry, in Taiwan and China. Steve is adamant about only putting the best components on his bikes. From years of experience, he knows only top quality parts ensure the integrity of a high-performance bike range. This attention to detail eliminates any unneccessary stress of worrying about equipment and lets the boys focus on the racing.

Toby and Rory’s racing has taken them all over the world. From a young age, they have chased both BMX and mountain bike races across Europe, North America, Oceania, Asia and South America, accumulating a collection of noteworthy results. Rory achieved third in the world – twice! – for his age group in BMX racing and Toby raced at a world championship level for five years. They are no strangers to the UCI world cup circuit either, as they frequented as spectators, and competed in events such as Crankworx Whistler and US Open – where Rory has won his age group twice. The boys were even invited to a surreal experience to race the Longling DH Memorial Event, in Yunnan Province, China, where they competed against other racing phenoms, including Jackson Goldstone. When the boys reached high school age, the family moved back to New Zealand and settled in Queenstown, in search of a more balanced lifestyle and a better base to focus on racing. The family is very passionate about biking not being the be-all and end-all, and feel having a well-rounded worldview is imperative to personal growth. With the pool of talented riders across New Zealand, it can be hard to stay grounded and focus on what is important, but life skills learnt away from the bike carry over and greatly improve results. This is why the boys were always encouraged to chase other hobbies like hunting, fishing, surfing and even kite surfing – which they also excelled in and competed in at a high level. The family model their operations off the Atherton family and admire the success they have, while keeping things tight-knit.

WITH MOST BIKES AT THE TIME WEIGHING A TONNE, THEY WERE NOT SUITED FOR YOUNGER RIDERS. STEVE MADE IT HIS MISSION TO CREATE A SOLUTION SO THAT THE BOYS WEREN’T BEING HELD BACK AND COULD FURTHER PROGRESS THEIR SKILLS.

Standing out on results alone doesn’t always mean you receive the support you need to race at a high level. In the early days, it was hard to stand out and the family found it challenging to find sponsors to support the boys. The family was early to implement the use of social media to promote the Meekboyz brand, and it has been a pivotal part of their success. What started off as the boys filming and sharing videos of their riding online, has snowballed into picking up notable long-term sponsors, like Continental tyres, and accumulating over 35,000 Instagram followers. Social media also benefits the Meekboyz physical business of selling bikes, which then allows more funding to flow back into supporting the boys with their racing. This extra exposure resulted in Toby joining Markus Stöckl’s MS Mondraker race team in 2020. Markus Stoeckl, team owner (and mountain bike world record holder) invited Toby to travel with the team through Europe and learn the ins and outs of how a professional race team operates. Team rider, Laurie Greenland, was instrumental in showing Toby the pace required to race at world cup level and served as a great role model. Toby then went on to sign onto MS Mondraker Team for his remaining two junior years. He was over the moon to join the team and ride alongside someone as successful as Laurie, who he had always looked up to.

In Toby’s first elite junior season, he suffered two major injuries which cut short his racing. Firstly, a cracked pelvis training in Leogang, Austria, followed by a broken arm in Lenzerheide, Switzerland. In Toby’s second year, he came out of the gate with a great result, 6th in his first world cup race in Lourdes, France. He then suffered a dislocated shoulder in the following race, in Maribor, Slovenia, which forced him to come home to New Zealand to have shoulder surgery and miss the rest of the season. Due to his injuries, Toby felt like he had unfinished business and had not achieved the results he knew he was capable of. In 2023, Toby signed on for another year with MS Racing and bounced back to have an impressive New Zealand season. For his first year, competing in the elite category, he won every national round that he entered. This span of good form continued as he went on to win the New Zealand national downhill champs, donning the coveted New Zealand sleeve for the 2023 international race season. Rory’s results were equally impressive, finishing second in the downhill national round and Crankworx summer series events, hosted in Cardrona. He also collected a third place in the under 17 category at the downhill national champs event hosted by Coronet Peak to top off the season, creating a great platform to work from moving into the elite junior category.

IN THE EARLY DAYS, IT WAS HARD TO STAND OUT AND THE FAMILY FOUND IT CHALLENGING TO FIND SPONSORS TO SUPPORT THE BOYS. THE FAMILY WAS EARLY TO IMPLEMENT THE USE OF SOCIAL MEDIA TO PROMOTE THE MEEKBOYZ BRAND, AND IT HAS BEEN A PIVOTAL PART OF THEIR SUCCESS.

Toby’s UCI world cup season started off extremely positively, making it through to the finals and finishing 27th at the second round in Leogang, Austria. He backed this up by achieving four more top 60 results and was an agonizing two hundredths of a second off qualifying for the finals event at Pal Arinsal, in Andorra. During the season, the team was going through big changes, while a majority of the team’s riders were battling their own injuries. Fortunately, Toby remained injury free. He had hoped to test the upcoming Mondraker DH prototype being developed by the team for the world cup races, but unfortunately this opportunity never eventuated. This was a disappointment for him. One of the challenges of being the youngest rider is the limited access to the same parts and opportunities as more experienced riders. This is likely to change, given the next generation of riders competing at a world cup level now are proving that they are just as fast and talented as the seasoned riders on the circuit. Despite these shortcomings, Toby was still able to finish the UCI season in 60th place overall, and has set himself a strong foundation for more success in the future.

Although the mountain bike industry and current racing climate face turmoil, the Meek family have decided to launch their own UCI race team for the 2024 season, under the name ‘MeekBoyz Racing’. It will be Queenstown’s first homegrown factory UCI team and will be the first time both Toby and Rory have been on the same team since they were young. This will also be Rory’s first UCI season in the junior category. Creating Meekboyz Racing will allow the family full control over the racing operations. This means they’re able to choose the best components and partner with brands to ensure the boys can achieve the best results possible, while keeping their family unit tight-knit and continuing their under-the-radar approach. The team is definitely one to keep your eye on in 2024.

CREATING MEEKBOYZ RACING WILL ALLOW THE FAMILY FULL CONTROL OVER THE RACING OPERATIONS. THIS MEANS THEY’RE ABLE TO CHOOSE THE BEST COMPONENTS AND PARTNER WITH BRANDS TO ENSURE THE BOYS CAN ACHIEVE THE BEST RESULTS POSSIBLE, WHILE KEEPING THEIR FAMILY UNIT TIGHT-KNIT AND CONTINUING THEIR UNDER-THE-RADAR APPROACH.

This article is taken from:NZ Mountain Biker, Issue #113

Considering SubscribingPurchase Issue #113

Destination: Coronet Peak

Words & Images Riley McLay

Famous Brazilian footballer, Pelé, once said; “Success is no accident. It is hard work, perseverance, learning, studying, sacrifice, and most of all, a love of what you are doing”. MeekBoyz Racing’s focus on success has led them to join forces with Coronet Peak, taking on the role of ambassadors for the bike park. Being able to perform at a high level requires having the best riding opportunities and access to quality facilities.

This relationship was an obvious choice for Coronet Peak and a great fit for the boys, as both parties share a lot of key values, along with their love of all things two-wheeled. Not only is it an opportunity to support Queenstown locals with chasing their dreams of racing, Coronet Peak also feels they are both in a position to grow together and help progress the boys racing while continuing to give Coronet Peak exposure on the international stage.

Coronet Peak was New Zealand’s first commercial ski field, opened in 1947. It originally hosted one single tow rope, which would get skiers up the snow-covered slopes of the mountain. A stark contrast to today’s multi chairlift operation that spans the majority of the hill. In recent years, Coronet has switched their focus to becoming an all-year outdoor recreation destination,with plans to greatly expand upon their current vast network of some of Queenstown’s best downhill, enduro and cross-country mountain bike trails. Giving riders a variety of options to accommodate from beginner to pro level abilities. Coronet Peak is only a short 20-minute drive from Queenstown central, making it easily accessible to locals and tourists visiting the mountain biking mecca. The ski area is instantly recognisable from all angles as you arrive into the Whakatipu Basin. As you snake your way up into the alpine, you are met with the bright glow of tussock grass covering the hillside. The faintly flowing shadow of trails give the only hint of activity amidst the ruggedness of the high country. As you get closer to the top, the flurry of other riders increases and the sound of laughter breaks the serenity. Coronet Peak’s summer operations allows it to take advantage of what it has built upon over the many winter months they’ve experienced, and continue to provide a premium product for the mountain bike community.

The main base building consists of a fully staffed indoor cafe. Sitting on the outdoor deck and watching fellow riders go past, is the perfect way to relax with a bite to eat or cold refreshment on a warm summer’s day. The base building also features a fully stocked bike workshop to tend to any issues you may have out on the trails. This also gives patrons access to Coronet Peak’s fleet of rental bikes and ensures your rental is fine-tuned for your preferences, and maintained throughout the day. The flexibility of pass options allows riders to easily plan their day of riding, with day and 4-hour passes available. Experiencing the magic of golden hour up Coronet is not to be missed, with a sunset pass from 4-8pm available on Thursdays and Mondays. A perfect way to unwind after a busy day and make the most of the late evenings. For those less experienced, Coronet Peak also undergoes regular patrols, ensuring peace of mind, knowing that assistance is never far away should you run into any issues.

I can see why the mix of fast and well-built jumps and turns set to a stunning backdrop, attract these international riders who make the mountain pilgrimage every year.

Coronet’s newly installed six-seater ‘Coronet Express’ chairlift, with a specifically designed bike rack system, quickly delivers riders to the peak. For those who aren’t into biking, there are enclosed gondolas for a more comfortable alternative. At the top, riders and outdoor enthusiasts alike are met with breathtaking views of the Whakatipu Basin. The sightseeing lookout is the ideal place to take in the expansive view of the valley below. These views extend to the very peak of Coronet, looking out to a full 360 panorama of the surrounding southern alps. From the peak of Coronet, riders can explore three trails: Coronet XC, Coronet DH, and the Dirt Serpent trail.

The Coronet XC is the longest trail on the upper part of the mountain. Starting under the chairlift, this grade 3 trail takes you right out towards the north side of the ski field boundary. With a series of switchbacks and varying singletrack, this trail is the perfect warmup for a day of riding. It is also a great starting point for less experienced riders, as this trail is a perfect introduction and opportunity to acclimatise yourself to the famous Coronet Peak dirt. It’s extremely grippy texture (even when wet) is another characteristic that sets Coronet Peak apart from other trails in the Queenstown area – and is an absolute delight. This trail also gives you access to the Slip Saddle, a grade 5 trail that carries you all the way into the nearby Arrowtown township, via the Bush Creek trails.

Coronet DH, arguably the most well-renowned trail of the three, begins directly as you hop off the lift. The grade 5 black trail is the most direct way down the hill. Originally sculpted in 2006, the track travels through the alpine tussock and makes use of the rugged terrain to give riders more of a challenge, with a combination of high speed and technical sections. It’s also host to iconic features such as the Canyon Gap and Rock Slab Drop that fully utilise the landscape. These features can make for some thrilling moments.

Adapting to the speed of the trail does take a lap or two, but once you memorise the order of things, you’ll see why the trail has gained the recognition it deserves. It was specifically constructed with downhill racing in mind and frequently hosts races on the local club and national level. Coronet DH is a magnet for overseas professional riders in the summer months, as it is the perfect training ground for the northern hemisphere off-season. It isn’t uncommon to see some of the world’s fastest racers lapping out the track on any given day. During one sunset session, I even spotted the likes of Laurie Greenland and Danny Hart, along with at least ten other world cup racers, ripping down the track. I can see why the mix of fast and well-built jumps and turns set to a stunning backdrop, attract these international riders who make the mountain pilgrimage every year.

This article is taken from:NZ Mountain Biker, Issue #113

Considering SubscribingPurchase Issue #113

Starveall or bust

Words by Lester Perry
Images by Henry Jaine

WHILE ON A PREVIOUS TRIP, NELSON LOCAL, KIERAN BENNETT, AND I HAD DISCUSSED THE CHALLENGE OF DOING MULTI-DAY MISSIONS, OR SIMPLY EVEN SOLO OVERNIGHT TRIPS, WHILE JUGGLING WORK AND FAMILY COMMITMENTS. LET ALONE TRYING TO LINE OUR CALENDARS UP TO DO THEM WITH SOMEONE ELSE WHO WAS LIKELY IN THE SAME BOAT. SINGLE- DAY RIDES WERE GREAT, BUT REGARDLESS OF HOW EPIC THEY ARE – OR AREN’T – AN OVERNIGHTER HAS A CERTAIN ALLURE. WE TOSSED AROUND THE IDEA OF ME ARRIVING ON AN EARLY FLIGHT, DOING A FULL-DAY RIDE FROM NELSON AIRPORT TO A DOC HUT FOR THE NIGHT, THEN DEPARTING ON A FLIGHT LATE THE FOLLOWING DAY, AS A QUICKFIRE WAY TO PULL OFF AN OVERNIGHT BACKCOUNTRY MISSION.

Chatting with Kieran, he reckoned Mt Starveall and the Starveall track could be a worthy option, but details were scarce.

I’d heard rumours of people riding Mt Starveall in the past, so went on a hunt for more info. Indeed, people helicopter up to the summit and descend to the Hackett car park. Judging by the couple of aged YouTube videos I came across, it looked like a proper backcountry descent; things were looking positive. The internet offered up further details from people who had done the descent after accessing the trail from deeper in the Richmond Range, although only one blog post gave confirmation that people had actually clambered their way up the Starveall track before descending back down. Without a heli drop, an ascent on Starveall sounded like it may turn into some sort of twisted cross-fit style bike-carrying mission. But there was only one way to be sure: to physically take it on.

Dates were locked in, flights booked, and the route confirmed – there was no bailing out now. Late January, I spied a Strava ride from a friend; a heli drop from the top of Starveall. A few messages backwards and forwards confirmed it was a worthy trip, but also that we were deranged to be considering the hike-a-bike to the top.

Four-twenty in the morning is not a fun time to be woken for any reason, but needs must. By 4:30am I was dressed and had prepared a bottle of hydration mix and a quad shot of strong espresso to get me through the nearly two-hour drive to Auckland Airport. How ridiculous is it that it’s cheaper by a few hundred dollars – and almost quicker! – to drive nearly two hours, pay for gas and parking, and fly to Nelson from Auckland, than from my local Hamilton airport?! An overcooked breakfast muffin and a flat white; the obligatory Cookie Time and black coffee onboard, and after spinning for an hour and a half, the ATR 72’s props came to a shuddering stop outside the Nelson terminal.

With Kieran Bennett laying the initial foundation for my route, it was only fitting that he came along; stupid ideas are best shared with friends and if it all went bad then I had someone to share the blame with. After a few minutes of spinning Allen keys, my bike was assembled. Once again, I attempted to whittle down my gear for the trip; necessities and nice-to-haves. Space was tight and we wanted to travel light. I stuffed what I could into a handlebar-mounted Aeroe drybag, filled every nook and cranny of a CamelBak HAWG Pro backpack with the remaining gear, and we were good to go.

By 10:30 am we were ready to roll, but first; coffee and a butane canister. Butane for cooking, nothing nefarious. A quick stop at Bunnings ticked the final boxes on the admin list, providing the gas for the cooker and coffee for the body. It was game on. Continuing on the bike path, we began the mellow climb towards Silvan MTB Park. The day was warming up and the sun was out. It was here I remembered my sunscreen was still sitting at home.

Winding our way up through the forest of Silvan, our chat was flowing thick and fast. We calculated and theorised how long we’d take to reach our destination: Starveall Hut. It was getting hot and I was already sweating what felt like litres, yet we’d barely put a dent in the day. How long would my three and a half litres last me? If I kept drinking at the rate I was, not long!

As we reached the top of Silvan, we made the first of many snack stops. Half a sleeve of Oreos between us, a muesli bar and some mixed lollies. Over fistfuls of sugar, we broke out the maps again and were speculating how long the day would be. One thing was becoming apparent by this point: we had no accurate idea.

The quest for a route to suit the timeframe, began by spending time in my trusty Topo Map app. Focusing on the Richmond Range, I was hopeful I’d find a hut we could ride to directly from the airport. Tracing hiking routes on the map, cross-referencing with DOC information, Strava heat maps and the Nelson Trails website, there were a few options on the table, but I needed some local knowledge.

We dropped over the back of Silvan, descending gravel roads into Aniseed Valley towards Hackett carpark and the beginning of Hackett track. The track was a mostly mellow, well-formed affair and, aside from a couple of chunky sections for a few metres, it would be passable on a gravel bike. The track winds its way beside Hackett Creek for 5.8km, then spits you out in a grass clearing at the Hackett Hut. I’m sure the gas cooker and the half-tub of Vaseline that remain in the Hut have some tales to tell. With places to be and bikes to carry up hills, we pressed on. We left the hut and went from the mellow comfort of the gravel trail, to the unkempt wilds of the Starveall Track.

The story goes that Mt Starveall gained its name in the 1800’s after a stockman was looking for a route to drive his sheep from Nelson to Wairau Valley, attempting to dissect the Richmond Ranges rather than take a longer, albeit easier route around the valleys. Reaching the summit of what we now know as Mt. Starveall, he found there was no suitable feed for his sheep. Dismayed, he proclaimed the mountain would “starve all” his flock. Seems the name stuck.

I’m no stockman, and we had no sheep to take anywhere, but as Kieran and I were crossing the river for a third time in only a couple of hundred metres, I was wishing we could “starve all” the people who decided the trail needed to cross the river some nine, or maybe it was ten, times in a kilometre of track. Halfway across the river at one point, we met a hiker descending; a foreigner on his quest to complete the Te Araroa trail (which Starveall track is part of). The look of confusion on his face said it all: he seriously thought we’d lost the plot and was verging on visibly distressed that we were about to carry our bikes up this mountain. We silently wondered if maybe he was right.

I’m still surprised, after so many stream crossings and hundreds of footsteps sketchily balanced atop rocks that were at times smaller than a foot, that – thanks to grippy-soled, modern riding shoes, and us having the balance of ballerinas – we both managed to keep our feet dry!

Leaving the prospect of falling in a stream behind us, the gradient of the trail pitched up. Not just a bit but, for a period, a lot. Picture ‘climbing a hundred-metre-long staircase with your bike on your back’ sort of steep. We were into the meat and potatoes of our mission.

Leaving the prospect of falling in a stream behind us, the gradient of the trail pitched up. Not just a bit but, for a period, a lot. Picture ‘climbing a hundred-metre-long staircase with your bike on your back’ sort of steep. We were into the meat and potatoes of our mission.

One foot in front of the other, we plodded our way up the hill. Our progress was slow – so slow that our Garmins no longer considered us as “moving”. For all intents and purposes, we were stationary. Forward movement was a mix of pushing our bikes, carrying them under an arm, or hoisting them overhead and carrying them on our shoulders. Early in the hike-a-bike, this hoist overhead was quick and easy, a rapid snap of the hips, and almost an Olympic Power Clean to get the loaded rig up to our shoulders, however, two hours into it our bodies were tiring. What was once a fluid, smooth hoist of the bike became a full-body effort, recruiting every muscle and ounce of strength to get it done. It seemed the higher we got in altitude, the heavier our bikes became. Fatigue sapped our dexterity and we were getting ourselves in all kinds of strife while trying to lower our bikes down once our shoulders had done their dash. Handlebars tangled in our packs, I somehow got the nose of my saddle caught under my helmet, and more than once we needed help to untangle ourselves from our bikes. Stopping for a second and surveying the map again, we wondered where Pyramid Rock was. The map showed it should be somewhere to our left, but we couldn’t see it. “Can’t be too exciting I guess…” we decided. Five minutes later, we spotted a break in the bush ahead and were greeted with a full view of the rock. It protruded from the end of the ridge we’d just come up, one side bush, the other an almost sheer rock face. It was a sight to behold and unique amongst the surrounding terrain. Again, we surveyed the map. We figured that in two hours we’d come two kilometres up the hill, and there was about two kilometres to go. Those salt and vinegar chips strapped to my handlebar bag were looking mighty fine at about that point. We cracked another One Square Meal and agreed the chips were our reward once we’d reached the hut.

At some stage, Kieran and I unleashed some brutal honesty. “How much of this are we even going to be able to ride on the way back down?” “This looks pretty gnarly, this better be worth the effort!” Fortunately, each time we looked back down the trail we’d just passed, it looked like – although some of it would be sketchy at best – we’d likely be able to ride a majority of it on our return journey. Sections, however, would remain untouched by our tyres.

Kieran was up the trail a little from me as we neared the end of a janky-looking rock section when all of a sudden there was a change of tone, electricity in the air, and the exclamation: ‘‘There she is, there’s the hut!’’. Seven-and-a-half hours after we left the airport, we’d reached our destination; near on four hours of that was hike-a-bike.

Our rapid chat from earlier in the day had become stunted; small, solitary sentences and single statements rather than conversation. I’ve never been much of a classic hiker or bushwalker, but I sure would’ve loved to be one at that exact moment. Trade my stiff-soled shoes for some hiking boots, and swap the bike for some walking poles. That would’ve been amazing. As we shouldered our bikes to clamber up another steep pitch, we traded complaints about how the balls of our feet and our big toes felt as though they’d be blistered by day’s end.

We were pushing on but could only put so much effort in or we’d risk a complete meltdown. At times, it felt like there was a competition between my glutes, hamstrings, and quads for which one would be the first to snap like an over-stretched rubber band, or burst forth from my skin. I pondered this and draped my arms over my handlebars during a quick breather, hoping to shake the niggle of cramp in my right arm. It was a cramp like I hadn’t felt before; maybe it was a special breed of hike-a-bikers cramp, one that shows up only after hours of carrying one’s bike.

I was slowly cooking. It was hot and muggy and I’d already syphoned through most of the three litres in my CamelBak before we left the river crossings earlier in the day. I was verging on being the sweatiest I’d ever been – at times looking like I’d just stepped out from the shower! Experience told me to never leave a water source without supplies topped off unless I know where the next water source is. Fortunately, I’d refilled from the last of the streams earlier in the day. I was nervous we might arrive at Starveall Hut to find empty water tanks, drained by over-eager Te Araroa Trail walkers, and although I had read that DOC had installed an additional tank recently to help avoid the hut supply running dry, I still wasn’t 100% confident, so was keen to arrive with as much water onboard as possible. As it ended up, I blew through that refilled 3-litre bladder, and another bottle, arriving empty at the hut.

Our stops were becoming more frequent, and our snack supply was getting low. Conscious we had to ride out the following day, I didn’t want to devour all our food. Silently, in my mind, I tried to justify eating just one more mini Snickers and another few lollies; “If I eat them now, I’ll be better recovered for tomorrow and won’t need them then anyway”. Makes sense, right? Shouldering the bike after each break was becoming increasingly difficult but I managed “just one more” and we’d set off again. Kieran was up the trail a little from me as we neared the end of a janky-looking rock section when all of a sudden there was a change of tone, electricity in the air, and the exclamation: “There she is, there’s the hut!”. Seven-and-a-half hours after we left the airport, we’d reached our destination; near on four hours of that was hike-a-bike.

We downed the bag of salt and vinegar chips and nabbed ourselves a bed before the six-bed hut was filled with hikers. After blitzing all my water en route, I headed to the water tank for a refill. “The water here will be sweet straight out of the tank, no need for a filter” I was reliably informed by a hiker who’d arrived hours earlier. Filling my bottle, I thought I’d seen something drop from the tap – on closer inspection there was something. “A fish?” someone shouted, tongue-in-cheek. It did look like a fish, albeit a very small three or four-millimetre-long one. It seems it was some sort of strange bug or large parasite. Tipping my water on the ground I pulled out my trusty water filter and swore to filter everything from then on.

Hoping to score some golden evening hues and ’God Rays’, we headed uphill towards Starveall’s summit. Reaching what was essentially a cliff face, we decided enough was enough and parked our bikes at the foot of it. The views from on top (although not quite the Starveall summit) were amazing. Lush native bush as far as the eye could see, only broken by the highest peaks, scarred by their lack of vegetation. Such was the expanse before us, I struggled to grasp the true scale of the peaks and valleys around me. Our sunset party was almost ruined; the only gold we got was in the gaps between clouds passing overhead. Regardless, it was a magical evening I’ll never forget.

All too quickly, we popped out to Hackett Creek and all its crossings. Knowing wet weather was on the way in only a few hours, we theorised how high the river may get, relieved to still have plenty of stepping stones to cross dry-footed. Had we drawn our morning out while up at the hut, things could have been very different.

Climbing the ladder to my bunk polished off my remaining energy; figuring out how to flatten my sleeping bag out while turning around under the low ceiling polished off any remaining enthusiasm I had for the day. Sleep was needed. As I drifted off, I could hear a gnawing sound. Thinking there was a rodent in my bag, and fuelled purely by adrenalin, I slipped out of the fart sack, down the ladder and grabbed my bag. No rodent. Remembering I had earplugs, I grabbed those; if I can’t hear a mouse, it doesn’t exist – right? It wasn’t until I was home and sorting through gear from the trip, I discovered a bag of nuts with a hole the size of a mouse’s head chewed right through the side of it!

Woken by a dull ray of light trickling through the louvred window across from me, I tried to move. Creaking and groaning, I managed to get my body off the bed and contort myself down the ladder, heading outside to see if we needed to scramble to shoot the sunrise. We didn’t. I stood in the one square metre where we were able to get phone signal; the latest weather maps told me the wind had increased and the weather previously due to arrive late in the day, looked like it would now hit around lunchtime. Great.

The lads rose from the crypt, drawn from their cocoons by the smell of coffee and porridge wafting their way. We devoured cups of porridge complete with mini Snickers melted into them, and we were set for the day. It was right about then I realised I hadn’t brought a skerrick of toilet paper with me and everyone else was down to the bare minimum. Thankfully the porridge I’d just cooked came in six little paper packets!

We were eager to get off the mountain before the weather hit so crammed our bags with our gear and set off for phase one of our transit back to the airport. From the hut, we rolled straight into the lush beech forest. Within metres, we were dealing with a chute of shifting rock and sketchy roots; a heck of a way to wake the body up. Kieran and I were both surprised by how ridable most of the terrain was. During the hike up, sections looked like we’d be doing as much walking down as we did up, but we were cleaning most of them with relative ease.

Careful to keep our speed in check, we continued down; a hop over roots here, a Scandi’ into a corner there, a foot out to stay upright and a few “oh crap” almost over the bars moments. We were loving it. There were a few sections it would have been plain irresponsible to ride – the risk simply not worth the reward – other sections were comfortably ridable, although strewn with rocks, roots, moss and beech leaves, meaning we had to be vigilant.

As with the climb up, there were some challenging sections on our descent. Picking our way down, the trail would slowly tip steeper to the point it felt near vertical, heading straight into a ravine where a stream lay. Keeping our wits about us, we made sure we didn’t stay on the bike too deep into these sections, ensuring we shut down our speed and came to a comfortable stop before we slid our way off the side of the hill, into a stream. Had we got this all wrong, an extraction would have been tricky or near impossible.

All too quickly, we popped out to Hackett Creek and all its crossings. Knowing wet weather was on the way in only a few hours, we theorised how high the river may get, relieved to still have plenty of stepping stones to cross dry-footed. Had we drawn our morning out while up at the hut, things could have been very different.

We reached the top of Silvan just as the weather hit. What felt like teaspoon-sized raindrops blew in from the south-west. Of course, I packed my jacket right at the bottom of my pack.

Arriving at the car park to the sound of a saxophone blaring, we spied a local gent taking advantage of the acoustics of the area. We paused and listened for a time; he was no Kenny G, but he was a whole lot better than I was when I was trying to learn at age 12.

Minutes into the grind back over to Silvan, we were starting to see the weather move in. The odd rain spot fell and the wind was getting up, the signs of things to come. Conversation had dried up by this point; we were getting tired and, knowing this was the final ascent of the day, we were focused on the task at hand.

We reached the top of Silvan just as the weather hit. What felt like teaspoon-sized raindrops blew in from the south-west. Of course, I packed my jacket right at the bottom of my pack. I emptied the bag and while trying to stop its contents from blowing away, eventually retrieved the jacket and battled with the wind to get it on.

We started the descent on a sensible trail, People’s Choice. It was a far cry from the tech of hours earlier, but a welcome change given the weather. Barely pedalling, we pumped our way down several of Silvan’s digger-built flow trails. Kieran’s ease of generating speed, fluid style, and effortless cornering reflect his previous years’ racing downhill around the globe, only this time he had a heavily loaded handlebar bag and backpack. Towards the exit, and on familiar trails, Kieran lets the speed run. Regardless of the fully loaded bike, he was gapping doubles, jumping out of wallrides and coming into corners faster than he should have – a casual masterclass in descending and bike control.

Leaving Silvan’s gates, we were stoked – what a time the last couple of days had been. The remaining ride from there was merely a formality, or so we thought. A pizza and a brew at Eddy Line Brewing satisfied our cravings and prepared us for the last few kilometres to the airport. Fed and back on the bikes, the storm was starting to show itself; winds were swirling, branches and leaves were flying, and rain sporadically smashed us from all directions. The wind, oh the wind. It felt like we were riding up a hill as we headed along the pan-flat bike path to our destination. With Kieran half a wheel ahead, the roadie in me had quietly picked the downwind side of him, I managed some shelter from the crosswind, easing the strain a little.

Some 37 hours after I’d left my car, I arrived home, having conquered a mission from Te Awamutu to Auckland, onto Nelson, up Mt Starveall, and back again. Mission complete and many memories banked.

The rain held off just long enough for me to pack my bike in its bag. As I closed the final zip, the heavens opened. A short dash to the terminal doors 50 metres away and I was properly damp. I removed my filthy shoes and socks, stashed them in my backpack and checked in for my flight.

I took a step back from the flight attendant as I paid my excess baggage charges, hoping she couldn’t smell me after two days of sweaty riding. My bike rode the conveyor through the gate and I walked off, only to be chased by the attendant. “What did I leave in my bag?” But she was simply confirming I did have shoes for the flight. I’m surprised she wasn’t checking I was going to shower before boarding; which is exactly what I was headed to do. Thankfully, for my fellow passengers, Nelson Airport has a shower, so I wouldn’t be taking my stench on the plane! Warm water blasted away the sticky dirt of the previous days, but didn’t take care of the biddy bids stuck to my legs, those required some manual labour.

Hosed, but not quite home, I boarded my flight back to Auckland; the memories of the previous two days all blended together, one day now barely distinguishable from the other. My aches and pains seemed to remain on the tarmac as we lifted off, although I knew they’d return when I woke the following morning.

Some 37 hours after I’d left my car, I arrived home, having conquered a mission from Te Awamutu to Auckland, onto Nelson, up Mt Starveall, and back again. Mission complete and many memories banked.

This article is taken from:NZ Mountain Biker, Issue #113

Considering SubscribingPurchase Issue #113

Mammoth Enduro Pre-Race Guide

Words Lester Perry
Images Cameron Mackenzie

Nelson’s Mammoth Enduro is now on the horizon and having visited Nelson in our last issue to check out some of the trails, now we’re diving into some specifics around the event and how you can get the most out of it.

Thanks to intel from the Nelson MTB Club events team, we now know we’ll be presented with a 60km route – 38km of this will be pedalled, the remainder shuttled. Six stages are accessed by roughly 1700m vertical of pedalled climbing combined with two shuttles, giving riders a total descent of over 2500 vertical metres of forearm-destroying race stages. The longest stage comes with a 723m descent over its 3.3km length. This will be gravity enduro at its finest.

Here’s how the race will shape up:

Monday 18 March 2024

Course released on Monday 18th March and trails open to ride.

Friday 22 March 2024

The course is open to practice. An ‘optional shuttle’ will be available to practice stage 1 only.

Saturday 23 March 2024

Shuttled Practice 8 am – 3 pm (2x shuttles)

Race Stage 1

Sunday 24 March 2024

Race Stages 2-6

2 x feed stations on the course

Two shuttles per rider and pedal between stages

Race Village is situated at the Maitai Hub and Golf Club rooms. Set times for lunch and shuttles. There will not be any time penalties for liaisons.

Nelson Trails don’t suffer fools. If your body or bike isn’t up to the task, the Mammoth will chew you up and spit you out onto one of its rock and root-strewn trails. Fortunately, there are a few low-key steps that can be taken to ensure you’re prepared for race day. Although Nelson’s toughest tracks can be tackled on a hardtail if the rider and bike are up to the task, the optimal bike for an event like the Mammoth is one with big travel and big brakes. You’ll likely have to run whatever is currently in the shed, so options may be limited, but given the choice, the ideal bike would have more than 150mm of travel front and rear, and grunty 4-piston brakes with fresh pads and large rotors to match.

Tyre setup is a constant topic of conversation leading into any enduro race. Width, tread pattern, casing thickness and rubber compound; there’s nothing like some good pre-race tyre chat. A big day like the Mammoth isn’t the time to be testing a new setup or rolling the dice by going for lightweight or rolling speed over durability. A common setup that will be up to par on Nelson’s gnarliest is large volume tyres, something around 2.4-2.5 inches with a dual-ply sidewall and, depending on how hard-charging you are, possibly fitted with tyre liners of some sort, either at both ends or just the rear. Punctures still happen, although a heavy-duty setup like this should drastically reduce the possibility of one. Put your mind at ease by getting your tyres sorted early.

Nelson riding is generally about controlling your speed rather than trying to generate it, so decent brakes are a must. Be sure to check your pads still have ample meat in them, and pack a spare set, in case of wet weather or a technical issue. Remember to check brake rotors, ensuring they’re at their ideal thickness to provide optimal stopping power. Regardless of how dialled your bike is, if you aren’t physically prepared, you won’t be able to make the most of your big day out. In the weeks leading into the event, it’s worth putting some focus on ensuring your body is up to the task. There’s a world of information online on how to prepare best, but at an elementary level; ensure you’ve done some long rides with lots of climbing on the bike you’ll race, adding in a couple of strength and core sessions a week will help you out (even bodyweight exercises are better than nothing) and closer to the event, a couple of interval sprint sessions a week should put the cherry on the top of your prep. Remember, doing something is better than doing nothing, and perfection isn’t what you’re chasing: “you can only do what you can do”. Your best bet is to do some research online to help determine what level of volume and specificity will suit you best. Worst case, just throw in some sets of push-ups while you’re out riding.

Fail to prepare, prepare to fail. Your body and bike can be well prepared but if you’re not ready for a mechanical issue, your day could be over as quick as it begins. Make sure you’ve got the essentials to repair your bike and get you home should you need to. At a minimum, we’d recommend carrying some tyre plugs, spare tubes, tyre levers, Allen keys, chain tool and spare chain link. For a more comprehensive kit, we’d add in some zip ties, a tubeless valve, a pair of brake pads, a second tube, a pocket knife with pliers, a $5 note or a piece of thin plastic to use as a tyre boot if you slash a tyre, as well as some gummy bears to bribe your fellow riders for the use of things you don’t have!

With the gradient and trail conditions that Mammoth riders will be tackling, when crashes inevitably happen, you’ll want to be somewhat self-sufficient to patch yourself up, rather than relying on the first aid team to be there when you need them. If you’re carrying a basic first aid kit, a minor flesh wound can be quickly blasted with saline, wrapped with a bandage, and on you go to the next stage.

We caught up with some previous winners and riders to see what makes a successful day for them when racing the Mammoth:

Kieran Bennett

The Mammoth has always been a big, tough event so there are a couple of points for me to make it successful.-

Preparation: It seems like a no-brainer but I’m not just talking about training. Researching the course and stages; understanding what your nutrition and hydration needs will be; making sure your equipment is dialled; and having necessary spares with you – along with a whole host of other stuff. Fail to prepare, prepare to fail.

Consistency during the race stages: The Mammoth is almost like a marathon rather than a sprint, trying to find a second or two on a sketchy line isn’t worth it if you’re risking a potential crash that could lose you 10-20 seconds. When you have 30+ minutes of race stages, consistency is king.

Amanda Pearce

For me, the Mammoth Enduro is arriving at the race village early in the morning, with the dew still fresh on the ground, struggling to hold down my breakfast with nerves of excitement and fear of what lies ahead. Things get real once you strap on your race plate and get loaded up for the shuttle to the start of stage 1. After some pre-race chat, it’s time for the first run of the day. Dropping in, it doesn’t take long for the anxiety to dissipate and race mode takes over. The day is finished off with an ice-cold beer and yarns with mates about what was – and the one that got away.

A successful day for me is more about the social side than the race side of things, and if I’ve had a good, fun day out with my friends, the result will be what it is.

Louise Kelly

The Mammoth Enduro is probably my favourite race. I always look forward to it, I don’t know if it’s the aspect of racing at home or knowing that it’s going to be a big day out on some of the best trails in NZ, but it is always a good time.

Mammoth was my first proper race when I started enduro racing in 2018. I had no idea of what I was in for, but it sent me down the full enduro racing path. Having a Mammoth win to my name is a cool achievement for me, every time the race rolls around again, I stop and reflect on where I started and how far I have come.

To be successful at the Mammoth Enduro, both you and your bike need to make it through without any mechanicals or crashes, stay well-fed and hydrated and come prepared for the toughest race day ever!

Kurt Lancaster

The best thing you can probably do to prepare for Mammoth is move to Nelson and practice all the tracks! If you’re coming from the North Island, the biggest thing to work on is probably bike set-up. You want your bike set-up as comfortable as possible because you’ve got these long, rough, rooty, backcountry beech forest descents. They’re not all like that but, generally, there will be two or three long beech forest stages.

Consider slightly less tyre pressure than if you’re used to riding hard-pack stuff. You want as much grip as possible. Cushcore (or similar) is key. I don’t run a cushcore on the front tyre, but one in the rear. I used to run downhill tyres; I run double-down casings now, but nothing less than that. In the dry, it’s pretty grippy but, especially in the wet, you could probably drop a few psi in your tyre pressure and even soften up your suspension more. There aren’t any bike-park-style jumps or anything, so you don’t need a super stiff setup.

With only one day’s practice, there’s no way in hell you’re going to learn all the trails, so I wouldn’t get too hung up on trying to remember every root or corner. You’re probably better off learning to read the terrain and the trail speed; don’t worry about the small details, just ride your bike, there are too many tracks and the hills are too big, the stages are simply too long to learn everything.

Relax, don’t “try” and ride. It’s a big day. Relax and concentrate on riding smart. You don’t want to crash on the first stage and be riding the whole day nursing an injury. Just ease into it.

Figure out what gear you’re going to take on the day before you arrive in Nelson. If you don’t like riding with a CamelBak, what are you going to use to carry hydration or gear? As far as nutrition goes, you’re going to have to carry a bit of food. You want to keep the food intake up so consider how you’ll carry this too.

Arm and hand strength is key, especially if you’re from the North Island – you’ll be in for a shock. The descents are a lot longer down here so figure out a way to train your arms and get used to riding fatigued.

There we have it, some tips and suggestions from those in the know for how to maximise a big day at the Mammoth Enduro – or any big day in the mountains.

While the Mammoth has a reputation as one of the most demanding enduro races in the nation, with some preparation it’s more than achievable. The controlled environment of a structured race is a great way to test yourself, learn new things and push yourself out of your comfort zone in a relatively safe environment. Haven’t done a big enduro before? Just remember: you’re capable of more than you think. Give it a nudge!

Head to Mammoth Enduro for more info.


Tales from the Trails: Wyn’s Race Tales

Words: Wyn Masters
Photography: John Fernandes

“I checked flights and made the decision to head to Madeira for a week of racing...”

So my road to Madeira for the Trans Madeira race — a race that wasn’t even on my radar for 2022 — wasn’t such a clear one. I had managed to contract the dreaded Covid, and tested positive for the second time in 2022, at the final World Cup downhill of the year, in Val di Sol, Italy. This meant an extended stay in Italy to recover and then finally fly home. Not really the end to the ‘22 season I was after.

Then, the following week, back at my current home in the UK, I met up with Phil Atwill who was home for a bit to visit family as he now lives in Greece. He mentioned to me he was heading to Madeira on the following Monday for the Trans Madeira event. Not even knowing it was on, I quickly checked flights and made the decision that morning to head to Madeira for a week of racing, which would at least end my season on a better note. I was on an EasyJet flight the following Monday afternoon, direct to Madeira and arriving at 6PM.

Arriving in Madeira, I met Phil at the airport. He had taken a flight with a connection in Lisbon, and the airline had managed to lose his bike. Apparently, ‘22 was the year for losing luggage — I had it happen a few times myself. Luckily, with my direct flight, I had no such issue. We were picked up by a driver who took us to the base camp, which was set up on a beach, with 100 odd tents for all the riders and a big tent which served as the dining hall. We arrived as the sun was setting, so I got to work throwing my bike together and getting it ready as the race was set to start at 8 o’ clock the next morning.

To anyone planning on doing so, I would suggest not arriving the night before a race. Setting everything up — including the tent and so on — in the dark kinda sucks but, somehow, myself and Phil managed, and a local kid even agreed for Phil to use his 2016 Propain, as that’s the brand he rides for. All in all we managed pretty well considering.

The next morning, we were up early and in the shuttle on the windy long road to the top of the mountain for the 8am start. This became the daily routine for the next five days. Madeira’s mountains are in the centre of the island and stand up to around 1800m. This means that, often, the weather at the beach can be hot and sunny and, up the top, it can be a lot cooler and more damp. This really makes this event, as we cover a large amount of the trails on the island and get such a wide range of conditions and soil types.

Anyway, I kicked off Stage One for the week, following Phil on his borrowed/rental bike. Surprisingly, that didn’t last long, as 100 metres in he was on the side of the trail trying to pull the derailleur out of the wheel, not the best start to Stage One of a 30 stage (yes, 30 stage) blind Enduro race. For me, racing ‘blind’ — or without practice — is the truest form of Enduro racing, and probably the most fun too as you really have to be ready for anything and have a mental state of alertness. Pushing hard and going fast without knowing what’s coming up is quite a cool feeling.

The first stage went off without a hitch. It was quite physical and, as the day went on, it got better and better. Stage Two was quite wet and super techy with a lot of roots. I actually had one of my only crashes for the week at the bottom, when one of the photographers was cheering so I sent this blind jump and proceeded to miss the catch section after. Lesson learnt for the week: don’t let the “Kodak courage” take over. Keep it smooth! Stage Three was one of my favourites and also one we did in the EWS race back in 2018.

“The trail down was what the locals referred to as the ‘Madeiran Massage’, as it consisted of 10,000 stairs, and rattled whatever wasn’t already loose on the bike, loose!”

Dusty and flowing with heaps of drifty corners. We rolled back down to sea level before beginning the climb to Stage 4. It was super hot, maybe 35 odd degrees, and there was nowhere to hide from the sun. Still, we made it up to Stage Four which was super rocky — I nearly killed a family of three goats that were walking on the trail as I came around a corner. Definitely made for a bit of excitement!

From there, it was a shuttle followed by long pedal along the Levadas — the ancient waterways that make up the island’s irrigation system. They channel all over the island and are pretty impressive to see. By the end of the week you truly realise how many of them there are — we spent a lot of time riding along them that week, that’s for sure. I think there is over 1000km of them on the island, with 40km of tunnels too. Anyway, day one turned out to be pretty big with 65km on the bike and quite a bit of climbing too, even with all the shuttles. There were plenty of tired and hungry riders arriving back at the camp area afterwards — luckily, the food the event puts on every day is pretty good. You also get a beer each day on arrival, which is nice. This was where I was surprised, as this event isn’t so much aimed at the pro riders but more the full range of riders, offering them a chance to see the majority of the riding in Madeira in a week. Physically, it wasn’t much less than an EWS day and we still had four more days of it to go. At the same time, I was stoked too, as more racing and bigger days is something I enjoy and something I think the EWS has lost a bit in past years.

Since I don’t quite have time to outline every single day of the week, I will run over my highlights. Day two was another big one, with such a range of different trails and conditions.

We finished off with 50 odd switchback berms which made for an epic way to end the day — especially with Phil chasing me down, still on the rental bike as his never arrived! Then, day three was the one the event staff had been telling us about all week: the big hike-a-bike day. Due to the longer day, we had to be up for breakfast at 5.30am. At this point, we were definitely starting to feel the previous couple of days and, after a one hour bus ride to the top of the mountain, we were greeted with thick clouds and rain. I can say for sure no one was super keen to get out of the bus in a hurry but, luckily, after about 25 minutes of pedalling and pushing we arrived to see the clouds burning off to some of the most epic views all week at the start of the stage. It was definitely bucket list stuff. We then had two open and fast stages through some rocky and loamy stuff followed by a 40 minute climb on a road to reach a trail taking us to the first feed zone of the day. The trail down was what the locals referred to as the ‘Madeiran Massage’, as it consisted of probably 10,000 stairs, and rattled whatever wasn’t already loose on the bike, loose!

Then came the long hike. Phil and I had been pushing our bikes for about 40 minutes when we got to a sign telling us we had 11km to go to the next feed zone. It definitely didn’t excite us but, once up on the ridge, it was much better going with some amazing views of the valley around. It was also a relief to finally arrive at the feed zone and have some food — that was probably the hungriest I’d been all week. From there, we rode and pushed along a Levada and through some long, dark tunnels for a while. We were told, on the event information sheet, to bring a head torch — and now we knew why. After the two long and narrow tunnels, we arrived to a trail that two local kids at the start had told us is the best on the island. I can say they definitely weren’t wrong — it looked slippery to begin with, that kind of wet, volcanic dirt, but after two corners I realised how much grip there was and got into it. It was probably the most flowy trail all week, with all the corners banked in. It had so much grip. After that, we’d definitely forgotten the big hike to get there and I don’t think I saw anyone not smiling after that! We headed to a cool campsite below a big rock face on the coast for some much needed dinner.

The final two days kind of flew by as, after four days, the routine starts to set in, and you get used to the early starts. The nights in the tent also get easier. On day four we had a sweet campsite on a small beach; and by day five, the final day, everyone was pretty smoked. We were also stoked to make it to the end of the race and, after another solid day’s racing, we got to ditch the tents for the night and were put up in a five star hotel with a big buffet dinner and prizegiving for all the riders, which was a bloody good time. I managed to take the win over ex WC DH rider, Marcelo Gutierrez, from Colombia — not that it really mattered, it was more about the experiences we’d had along the way.

This is an event that I wouldn’t even so much label as a race, but more as an experience. I would definitely recommend it to anyone who has yet to go to Madeira, as it will show you more than you ever could see on the island without a guide, plus you get to ride/race with 100 other people all having a great time too. For me, it definitely was the best event I did in 2022 and my favourite week of riding too. It was the end to the season that I didn’t know I was looking for, but one of the best ways to finish off the year. So yeah, if you haven’t already, I would recommend adding it to the bucket list! One of the best parts is that a lot of the profits from the event are reinvested back into funding more trail building and maintenance on the island, too.

Cheers to the whole crew at Trans Madeira for an epic week!


This article is taken from:NZ Mountain Biker, Issue #109

Considering SubscribingPurchase Issue #109

Trail Builder: Support Stretches North to South

Words: Meagan Robertson.
Photographs: Peter Stoneham and Andy MacDonald.

The latest round of Trail Fund grants – supported by generous donations from Specialized – helps build new trail networks from Northland to Southland. Thanks to an incredible $17,850 donation from Specialized New Zealand, Trail Fund’s spring funding round was bigger than ever this time around, with four grants of $4,000 up for grabs! The increased number of grants on offer saw the biggest number of applicants in years, with 26 trail building groups vying for the funding.

“This was a really tough round for funding decisions as there were so many quality applicants,” said Advisory Board member, Peter Mora. “After much consideration, we chose our top four, but we want to acknowledge the incredible amount of good work being put in by volunteers up and down the country, and the quality of the applications we received.”

The funding is already being put to work by four deserving trail building groups around the country: Ruapehu MTB Club; Waikaia Trails Trust; Cromwell MTB Club; and Kerikeri MTB Club.

Riding in Ruapehu – Ruapehu MTB Club

For those who have spent non-ski days riding everything they thought the Ruapehu region had to offer – Old Coach Road, 42nd Traverse, Fisher’s Track, Tree Trunk Gorge – it turns out there’s more!

Opened late in 2018, Uenuku Pines was the first mountain biking park in the Ruapehu region, set in Waikune Forest, on the edge of National Park Village.

The opening of the park saw a series of ‘unofficial’ trails – built and maintained by local volunteers –finally made ‘official’, thanks to the co-operation of forestry managers. With 15km of trails, ranging from Grades 2 to 5, the park grew quickly in popularity – as did Ruapehu MTB Club membership.

In 2021, a large section of the park needed to be felled, which stemmed the growth the club had worked hard for. However, the numbers have started to increase again with the redevelopment of the trail network – this time, working in tandem with the forestry company and Crown to avoid future felling impacting the trails.

Building momentum should speed up this summer, thanks to Trail Fund’s $4,000 donation to the purely volunteer-run club. “We’re really excited about the rebuild and reigniting the passion that was building in the area with working bees, weekly social rides, kid’s programs and a women’s riding group,” said club president, Greg Prouse. “The funding help will expedite the construction of new tracks and usage in some difficult terrain, bringing us closer to our goal of once again providing a regional riding facility for riders and their families.”

Why Waikaia? Pure passion – Waikaia Trails Trust

As Margaret Mead so aptly put it: “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.”

And while the Waikaia Trails Trust might not be looking to change the world, this small town of 150 people is looking to add another string – and a good one – to Southland’s growing mountain biking scene.

As with most good changes, it didn’t happen quickly. An opportunity to develop mountain bike trails in Waikaia Forest, located immediately to the west of Waikaia in the north of Southland, was identified by the mountain bike community, in 2020. The site, which is a 700-hectare forest with approximately 110m of elevation, is owned by Southland District Council (SDC) and there was no public access at this time.

Not to be dissuaded, the instigators had the Ardlussa Community Board (ACB) lead the first stage of investigation, starting with receiving 100% support and permission from the Council to use the forestry block for this project.

“Once permission was granted to investigate, we commissioned a concept plan, including a feasibility study, then a master plan, then set up the Waikaia Trails Trust to lead the project in collaboration with SDC, Ardlussa Community Board and Southland Mountain Bike Club,” explains trust chairperson, Hilary Kelso.

From there, the Trust worked to finalise a Memorandum of Understanding, Access Agreement and License to Occupy with the Southland District Council. This included securing insurance, including $20m liability, and completing a Health and Safety Plan and Overlapping Duties document between the Trust, SDC and IFS (Invercargill Forestry Services). All parties involved have the up-to-date harvesting plan to ensure best use of the area for trail sustainability.

“It’s taken significant effort to get to this point, but we are thrilled to be ready to begin,” says Kelso.

“Our aim is to create an excellent trail experience based on quality, which complements and enhances mountain biking in Southland and caters for all riders, with an emphasis on introduction to, and progression within, the sport.”

Development of the proposed 25km network is divided into stages, and the Trail Fund grant will go towards the development of the park entrance and two initial trails – one beginner and one intermediate. While the Trust is focused on catering to its own residents and neighbours, it also sees the park as an opportunity to add recreational tourism to a town known largely for its railway and mining history.

Cromwell MTB Club working on a new trail in Bannockburn.

Caught in the middle – Cromwell MTB Club

Nestled between a trio of top mountain bike destinations, one might think Cromwell mountain bikers were spoilt for choice. However, as epic as their neighbouring destinations may be, until recently they had no local mountain bike specific trails, and no suitable land to build them on.

That all changed early in 2022, when the Cromwell MTB Club – a newly formed club committed to building free, permanent trails around Cromwell – were granted access to suitable land in Bannockburn, where work on their first trail started soon after.

“We’ve actually been a committee for just more than four years but, until now, the club had been a ‘committee only’ entity because we didn’t want to seek paying members until there was a solid project to be involved in.

Now we have that, and trail work well underway in Bannockburn, where trails will be built purely by club members and other volunteers,” says Cromwell Mountain Bike Club president, Alex Bartrum.

He was thrilled to receive the funding for tool sand irrigation pipes from Trail Fund, and is confident Cromwell residents and visitors will reap the benefits.

“The funding will go a long way to help a fledgling club turn an area that currently has no trails, into a biking hotspot,” Bartrum says. “We are very much an inclusive, community focused club. Our first trails will be accessible to riders of all levels and, once those are built, we will look to build more technical and difficult trails.”

The club is also very close to building more trails at a second location, Shannon Farm, which would pave the way for world class, mountain bike-specific trails within riding distance of Cromwell town, according to Bartrum.

“We are just waiting for final approval from the council and are currently in the process of seeking funding as the first trail here will be professionally built. We are so thrilled to finally be able to put our shovels in the dirt!”

Whitehills Forest, located 8km north of Waipapa, offers a diverse range of terrain.

More than pedal power needed – Kerikeri MTB Club

A long-established Bay of Islands based club, the Kerikeri MTB Club has taken on many projects over the years and has a keen following in the area.

“We have excellent knowledge of local mountain biking opportunities, and our members help to build a vibrant MTB community in the Bay of Islands,” says club president, Richard Pilling. “We foster skills development, with encouragement and challenge in a social environment.

We build and maintain a network of hand-crafted tracks in local forests, and host weekly group rides, events and activities.”

The current focus for the club is Whitehills Forest, located 8km north of Waipapa, which offers a diverse range of terrain, including plantation forest, native bush, gentle rolling areas and steep gullies – with more than 200m of descent to play with.

“Thanks to outstanding support from Summit Forests, the club has been developing the riding area for the past two years,” says club secretary, Odette Yates.

“Volunteer effort and local sponsorship has enabled us to build more than 16 interconnecting tracks covering a range of terrain, which have been embraced enthusiastically by local mountain bike riders.”

With a combination of hand-crafted and machine-built tracks suited for intermediate to expert riders, Kerikeri MTB Club says its goal is to offer the best riding experience north of Rotorua

According to Odette, this is now the only mountain bike area of its kind in Northland, as the existing club tracks in the Waitangi Forest – which had been built over the past 10 years – have largely been destroyed by ongoing forest harvest.

With the project well underway, Kerikeri MTB Club knew what it wanted from its Trail Fund application – a power barrow of its own!

“We have found moving materials, dirt, gravel and timber around on the steep terrain so challenging that we’ve hired and borrowed power barrows on several occasions, and we recently gained permission to extend into another area of the forest, which is further from the main road,” explained Odette in the club application.

“Borrowing and hiring power barrows has made us aware of how much more efficiently we could work if we had access to this kind of machinery on a permanent basis.”

With a power barrow now on hand, Trail Fund looks forward to seeing what will be accomplished by the committed club members for years to come!

 


This article is taken from:NZ Mountain Biker, Issue #109

Considering SubscribingPurchase Issue #109

New video guide Sheds light on the iconic Old Ghost Road

Words: NZ Safety Council
Photography: Quite Nice Films & Cameron Mackenzie

Its vision of ‘safer places, safer activities, safer people’ is supported by years of in-depth insights. This means NZ Mountain Safety Council (MSC) knows where, how and why people get into trouble, and how to prevent these incidents.

The organisation has been encouraging safe participation in all land-based outdoor recreation for almost 60 years. That’s anything from hiking to backcountry skiing and climbing, to mountain biking and trail running. These insights clearly show that preventable incidents are occurring across Aotearoa.

By analysing these insights, MSC realised that the best way to encourage outdoor enthusiasts to change their behaviour was to make planning and preparation as easy and robust as possible. This preparation is a vital part of a fun and safe adventure, whether it’s a short walk in a regional park, a multi-day tramp in the Southern Alps, or a backcountry mountain bike ride. This saw the shift in messaging tactics from highlighting what not to do before an excursion, to positive messaging on how to plan correctly.

Over recent years, MSC has created a suite of videos covering safety tips and how-to style content. Its latest, and first mountain biking video, is a new ride-through safety guide on the Old Ghost Road trail, and has been added to the suite of Tramping Safety video series. From the Milford Track to Canterbury’s Mt Somers Track, up to the Coromandel’s Kauaeranga Kauri Trail Pinnacles Walk, the series covers the country’s most popular tracks, where data revealed preventable safety incidents which could be reduced by a target video.

These videos highlight each track’s common risks and hazards, outlines key decision-making points, and offers guidance on walking times, essential clothing and gear items, important weather factors and other track-specific advice.

In 2021, the research behind this ongoing series won the ‘Insights Communication’ award at the 2021 Research Associations Effectiveness Awards. According to the research findings, 76% of people who watched the video said they would make changes to their plans because of it, and 90% of those people did. Furthermore, 95% said they learned something new, with 82% saying their knowledge of hazards along the track had improved; 85% said their overall understanding of the track had increased.

The Old Ghost Road video aims to help mountain bikers prepare for the epic West Coast backcountry trail. One of the esteemed Great Rides of New Zealand, the 85km-long Old Ghost Road is Aotearoa’s longest single-track backcountry trail, and one of the most incredible multi-day backcountry experiences in the country. The adventure takes riders and trampers back in time along a shared-use and long-forgotten goldminer’s road.

This impressive trail weaves through ancient forests and diverse, rugged alpine environments. The infamous West Coast weather – frequent heavy rain, strong winds, snow, and freezing temperatures, even in the height of summer – means the Old Ghost Road is a true adventure.

The video highlights the varied conditions mountain bikers can expect, covering important tips including how to pack a balanced bike, a suggested packing list, the common risks and hazards, and key decision-making points and pit stops.

MSC Chief Executive, Mike Daisley, said the new mountain biking video was the first of what MSC planned to deliver as part of a growing library of backcountry mountain biking video resources. To deliver the stunning cinematography and capture the essence of the trail required a new filming approach and very careful planning and preparation, he said.

“We’re incredibly excited to launch this video and support riders as they tackle what is a truly spectacular, but hazardous, backcountry adventure.” Mokihinui-Lyell Backcountry Trust chair, Phil Rossiter, said the new video significantly extends the tools and resources available to help users plan for their trip. The Trust was set up in 2008 by volunteers who wanted to bring the Old Ghost Road to life and now, having done just that, it acts as the entity that operates and maintains the trail. The Old Ghost Road, a Ngā Haerenga NZ Cycle Trail Great Ride, is a destination trail with many unique elements that draw in an average of more than 6500 riders and 5000 trampers each year. There is one key underlying theme that draws mountain bikers and trampers to the trail, Rossiter said. “It’s the rejuvenation of the soul and mind that comes with time immersed in nature and stunning landscapes, away from distractions and the noise of everyday life, and made all the better by the physical exertion required and the company the experience is shared with.”

 

“Video is a more powerful way of communicating information than just written text. The ability to combine important safety and preparation details with actual imagery from on the trail is a very helpful step forward. Combined with the professionalism and quality of the safety videos that the MSC produces, it wasn’t a difficult decision to get on board,” he said. Plan My Walk by MSC can help those planning to tackle the Old Ghost Road by providing weather forecasts, alerts, a gear list and then create a trip plan to share with a trusted contact. •

• The video can be found on NZ Mountain Safety Council YouTube and Plan My Walk. The video, other useful resources and hut booking info can be found at oldghostroad.org.nz

 


This article is taken from:NZ Mountain Biker, Issue #109

Considering SubscribingPurchase Issue #109

The new fast: eMTB racing is powering up

Words: Alex Stevens
Photography: Seb Schiek

The latest breakthrough is once again led by Bosch, who unleashed their new drive unit for the last race of the Enduro World Series (EWS-E) in Finale Ligure, Italy, in September. The results speak for themselves. The entire women’s podium of Florencia Espineira (Orbea Fox Enduro Team), Harriet Harnden (Trek Factory Racing), and Tracy Moseley (Trek), along with the winner of the men’s category, Adrien Dailly (Lapierre Zipp Collective), and half of the men’s top 10, were powered by the Bosch Performance Line CX Race Limited Edition.

Fair to say, Bosch are experienced players in the sport of eMTB racing. Bosch-powered bikes claimed more than 60 podium finishes in eMTB races around the world this season alone. In the EWS-E overall team competition, Orbea Fox Enduro Team took the win, with Miranda Factory Team in second and Pole Enduro Race Team in third, all running Bosch systems.

The future of eMTB racing is looking fast. Not only is the sport experiencing a rapid uptake, but the technology behind it is also finding more speed, giving professional riders the competitive edge they need when podium spots are decided by fractions of a second.

Bosch have been leading the field for over a decade, ever since one of the first eMTBs was equipped with their drive system, back in 2010. Since then, the company has consistently developed more products for eMTB riders. The Performance Line, CX, was the first eBike drive specifically designed for eMTB in 2014, and the 2018 eMTB mode continues to set the standard today.

So, what does the new CX Race Limited Edition bring to the table? The specially developed Race mode, uncompromised support and low weight are the key ingredients when it comes to setting new record times.

The Performance Line CX Race Limited Edition is an exclusive evolution of the Performance Line CX. The new Race mode offers direct support, with up to 400% of the rider’s own pedal power, compared to 340% in Turbo mode with the Performance Line CX motor. This means riders reach top speed faster, and can stay there for longer.

The Extended Boost of the eMTB mode has also had an upgrade, giving it even more grunt in Race mode and making it easier to tackle large boulders, roots or steps. Race mode can be adjusted in the eBike Flow app, where you can tweak the strength of support, dynamics, maximum speed and maximum torque.

At 2.75 kg, the new drive unit is the lightest drive in the entire Bosch portfolio. This reduces the weight of the bikes equipped with it and optimises the handling on demanding trails. But, with 85 Newton meters of torque, it still offers maximum power for acceleration out of tight corners, which can be a decisive competitive advantage. Even at cadences over 120 rpm, the powerful motor provides explosive support so aggressive that riding over long stages and fast sprints are possible.

The CX-R is designed for tough, technical routes, steep uphills and gnarly descents, which is exactly what the course looked like at the EWS-E in Finale Ligure. NZ’s Joe Nation, riding for Pole, got to experience it first-hand.

“It was great to be on the CX-R in Finale,” says Joe. “The first power stage was a steep uphill with some monster boulders which the extended power boost made light work of. As weight is a pretty big deal – in both bike and body – for eBike racing, saving over 100 grams is a big gain too.”

Joe, who made the switch to EWS-E just this season, finished 22nd in Finale and 12th in the overall season standings. Not a bad result considering he only got hold of his eBike three weeks out from the first race of the season and had a massive learning curve mastering the nuances of racing eBikes. He’s back in New Zealand for the summer and plans on returning to Europe next season, fitter and more competitive than ever. It’ll be exciting to see what he can do after a full off-season spent training with the CX-R.

The new Race mode offers direct support, with up to 400% of the rider’s own pedal power, compared to 340% in Turbo mode with the Performance Line CX motor. This means riders reach top speed faster, and can stay there for longer.

“A lot of the competitors who weren’t using a Bosch motor were definitely curious about the update, especially as the current CX motor is already top of the line,” he says. The new drive unit requires some pretty precise skills to control the direct response and power of the Race mode. In Tracy Moseley’s words; “It is like taming a bit of a wild horse at times, but it’s just learning its characteristics, learning how to ride it, pre-empting some of it, making sure you’re in a good body position, making sure you’re riding aggressively, and then it’s awesome. If you’re a bit, sort of, resting on your laurels, out for a cruise, it can definitely take you for a ride.”

The Bosch Performance Line CX Race is currently only available to professional riders on Bosch powered brands, and as a limited edition on some eMTB models. Some CXR equipped bikes may well make it to our shores for a lucky few. So, while most of us won’t get to experience this game changing tech for ourselves (for a while) it’s going to be fascinating to see what it brings to the race scene and how riders like Tracy Moseley and Joe Nation use it to its potential in the future. This could change the nature of eMTB racing, from the trails ridden to the approach taken by riders.


This article is taken from:NZ Mountain Biker, Issue #109

Considering SubscribingPurchase Issue #109

Las Cholitas

Words: Jess Dickinson
Photography: Keenan DesPlanques

We picked a line and dodged our way down to our day one camp and a hot meal from Rocky, our gold-toothed cook. An altitude-induced throbbing head and uneasy stomach had come with me to camp, so I took myself away to sleep off the little voice inside that said I shouldn’t be up there.

The Little Idea

It ended with four women, one baby, a dog and a dead alpaca. Not exactly what we’d pictured as Claire and I piled ourselves, nervously laughing, onto a plane in New Zealand. Our plan was pretty simple: ride the best singletracks in South America; make friends; drink beer. A good plan. What we found was an ever-strong group of women, three days of backcountry free riding under the shadow of Mount Ausangate, in the Peruvian Andes, and a wee reminder that from little ideas, big things can grow. Mt Ausangate lured us in from day one. Wherever we went, there she was, our backdrop to Cusco, beguiling us into looking beyond our simple plan of just riding some trails. Whispers of the amazing scree fields, wild views and wonderfully lonely ridges were described. We had been messaging Nicole and her buddy Emily. Nicole runs Haku Expeditions, a bike tour company out of Cusco, specialising in taking people down fatigue-inducing, arm pumping singletracks for a living. Cusco singletracks are distinguished by their twenty- five kilometre stretches of uninterrupted downhill, occasionally broken by ancient Inca staircases or a few alpacas to dodge. This is where Nicole guides every day. The Ausangate fire was lit. Like a weird biking version of Tinder, we made plans to meet up for a ‘test ride’ to see if we all got along. In Peru, women who are of the mountains are called la cholitas. It was evident after our first ride together that our little idea had grown into us venturing up there and following the local cholitas who had walked before us. Nicole described our trip as a hike-a-bike without air. At a maximum of 4800m, pedalling in any direction was going to be hard. And this trip would have a lot of climbing. We had Emily, America’s collegial cross country, ST and omnium champion, to rally at the front; Claire, the ever- enthusiastic Scotswoman, to keep us in high spirits; and Nicole’s baby, Joachim, with his own nanny Iris who, as a local to the area was a mountain woman in her own right. We were also bringing Simon, a trail dog and, as we later discovered, an overly enthusiastic alpaca herder. Add a few pack horses and our mish mash of a team was formed.

AFTER PHOTOS WERE TAKEN, HUGS WERE GIVEN AND MOMENTS OF AWE WERE EXPERIENCED, WE FOCUSED ON RIDING THE RIDGELINE. RIDING THE RIDGE WAS A GREAT IDEA. BUT THE MOUNTAIN HAD PILED ITSELF WITH BOULDERS.

The Big Traverse.
It was a 3am start from Cusco to our starting point, where we’d rendezvous with the horsemen and helpers we’d hired to help lug bikes. Late morning saw us starting along a rocky walking path, bouncing around rocks and alongside creeks, before the only path we would see for two days ended and the inevitable uphill loomed. Soon the rocks were too thick to ride through. We were already at 4200m when we started the climb. Our helpers, long-time friends of the mountain, grabbed our bikes and took off ahead. We took turns pushing Emily’s bike up, taking five minute turns. But, as we went up in altitude, it turned into counting out ten steps before the next person took over. Soon I was having trouble catching my breath and was reassigned the responsibility of carrying the camp soccer ball. Altitude requires patience. Patience to go slow and patience to breathe. Each pedal up tested that. Pulling up on the ridgeline on day one to see the valley unfold below us will be one of those completely happy moments I will cherish forever, mixed with undertones of queasy high-altitude breathlessness. We were so pleased to be living in that moment in time, despite the spattering of sleet. Our trail off the ridge was absent. It was straight down, pick-a-line freeriding through a boulder park. It plunged us into high alpine scree fields, needle sharp grass, steep descents and icy blue creeks, dotted with the occasional farmer’s hut. Day two began easily enough, riding a meandering alpaca path through a valley. Our route was set to a fairly easy pass up ahead. This was until Claire hatched the great idea that the ridge framing us to the left would make for great riding. So we climbed, first to the false horizon, and be one of those completely happy moments I will cherish forever, mixed with undertones of queasy high-altitude breathlessness. We were so pleased to be living in that moment in time, despite the spattering of sleet. Our trail off the ridge was absent. It was straight down, pick-a-line freeriding through a boulder park. It plunged us into high alpine scree fields, needle sharp grass, steep descents and icy blue creeks, dotted with the occasional farmer’s hut. Day two began easily enough, riding a meandering alpaca path through a valley. Our route was set to a fairly easy pass up ahead. This was until Claire hatched the great idea that the ridge framing us to the left would make for great riding. So we climbed, first to the false horizon, and finally reaching the highest point of 4800m. Claire was in her element. Emily bounced around taking product shots for various sponsors. I, however, lay behind a boulder trying to find my breath. From behind my boulder I remembered this had all evolved from a little idea about riding some bikes, yet here I was standing (or, at that point, lying) higher than I’d ever been, on an unbelievable mountain mission, with an amazing bunch of women. After photos were taken, hugs were given and moments of awe were experienced, we focused on riding the ridgeline. Riding the ridge was a great idea. But the mountain had piled itself with boulders. So, instead, we carried bikes along the ridge towards the pass. It was hard riding for the next few hours. With no trail to follow and boulders thick on the ground, a lapse in concentration ended in pedals colliding with rocks or a dead stop. Hours of rock hopping lead us down to the lip of a giant bowl, with rough tracks peeling off left and right to the lake and camp below. It was steep, technical, off camber and exposed. I was mildly terrified as I dropped over the lip. At the bottom of each steep section was a ridiculous switchback framed with cactus on one side and a cliff on the other. Ill-timed braking sent my back tyre sliding towards a drop off and I tensed knowing things were going to hurt. By some miracle I pushed out of it only to crash, amid cheers, on the next switchback. When we reached the end of the rock garden, we were welcomed with wide, steep, grassy fields to gleefully freeride down to camp, with Simon leading the way. This is where Simon, our trail dog, took centre stage. He was our fearless leader. Our mascot. Our guardian from all things hairy. But Simon had taken to chasing alpacas. Despite continuous scolding, Simon could not help himself and chased a group of less-than-timid alpacas. All twenty of them chased him back. Simon became somewhat less fearless and hid behind Nicole and her bike as the group of rather angry alpaca surrounded them both. The standoff lasted twenty minutes or so, with Simon whimpering behind Nicole. The rest of us watched from the ridge above, consoling Nicole on the radio but assuring her that nope, we were not coming down to help. Twenty minutes later, the alpacas, in synchrony, turned and walked away. We were almost at camp, incident free. But Simon again charged off into a group of alpacas that were grazing just away from camp. He chased one young alpaca into the rocks and the alpaca broke its leg. After a little discussion between the head herder and Nicole, an exchange of money and a large apology, the alpaca ended up on our dinner plates. A pachamanca, a tepee shaped BBQ furnace, was prepared by Rocky and a few of our horsemen. The whole camp was fed and, I’m sorry to say, alpaca is delicious. There is something so joyful about the simple act of riding a bike. Day three was that day. It was one of those sunshiney days that make you happy to put your smelly bike socks on for the third day in a row. Or maybe we were just giddy from breathing oxygenated air again. The ride out was framed by the lake we had camped along the night before and led us to a river crossing. Claire and I opted for the shoes off, cold but drama free, wading approach. Nicole and Emily, however, decided to use the bridge up ahead. A three-rickety-pipes-tied- together-to-make-a-bridge-above-a-rather-large-and- rocky-drop later and everyone was across and on the final stretch for the homecoming downhill flow. The trail guided us through farms that rested on the side of the valley and wound its way back to our pickup point.

THAT LITTLE IDEA TO RIDE BIKES IN SOUTH AMERICA SEEMED SO FAR FROM WHERE WE’D ENDED UP. MAYBE IT WAS THE UNENDING ENTHUSIASM AND DESIRE TO PUSH OURSELVES THAT DROVE US UP THE MOUNTAIN. OR MAYBE IT WAS A SIMPLE FALLING INTO PLACE WITH THE RIGHT PEOPLE.

Journey’s End.
In Inca lore, Mt Ausangate is an Apu, the mother mountain spirit; the source of all good things and a caretaker to her land. She looked after us. That night, we reminisced back in Cusco over beers and burgers. That little idea to ride bikes in South America seemed so far from where we’d ended up. Maybe it was the unending enthusiasm and desire to push ourselves that drove us up the mountain. Or maybe it was a simple falling into place with the right people. The mountain let us make our little ideas evolve into something more; that we could grow a team that pushed each other when we needed, supported when necessary and cheered each personal accomplishment with wild abandon. It allowed us to connect with women who identified as moms, pro bikers and wilful wanderers. Our mish mash group of girls had taken a little idea and grown it into our own mountain adventure. As simply as we had come together, we were about to disband. I talked about a wee rest on a nice low-altitude beach somewhere. That was until Nicole let it drop that Haku Expeditions had organised a riding trip with Brett Tippie the next week…. But, that’s another story.


This article is taken from:NZ Mountain Biker, Issue #109

Considering SubscribingPurchase Issue #109

Sammie Maxwell - Destined for greatness U23 UCI World Champion

Words Lester Perry
Images Cameron Mackenzie

Some would say XC is dead (they’re wrong) and others would say we’re seeing a worldwide XC Racing Resurgence. Word on the street is that livestream viewing figures for XC far surpass those of the downhill, and those tuning in are treated to action-packed racing across all categories at each round of the XC World Cup.

It’s been a long time since we’ve seen a Kiwi XC racer hit the World Cup scene with the impact of Sammie Maxwell. She first appeared on most casual fans’ radars at the beginning of the 2023 season, and they’ve seen her climb the ranks, race after race, to become the World Under 23 champion for 2023, and finish the World Cup Series in 3rd.

Anyone who has been immersed in the sport for the last few years, particularly here at home in NZ will know Sammie didn’t just burst onto the scene in 2023 but has been on this path for a few years. What has brought her to where she is now -a World Champion and a strong contender for an overall World Cup title? We were fortunate enough to dig a bit deeper into what makes this fun-loving, small-town girl with a huge grin tick!

Although not from a particularly sporty family, living in Taupo – just minutes from the lake – an active lifestyle is more or less a prerequisite. Although studious and high-achieving at school, early life was so much more than study and learning. The freedom and flexibility Sammie’s environment offered meant that netball, trampolining, running, Pilates, triathlon, football, swimming, cycling, rock climbing, horse riding and more, were regulars on her to-do list, although she was equally happy to lie in a hammock and read a book. Anything that required energy or had an aspect of competition and Sammie was sure to be front and centre!

“I stayed in Taupo throughout all my schooling and certainly consider myself a ‘small town’ girl. I would enjoy the odd trip to the Mount with my grandparents where we would go to malls, etc but after a few days, the traffic and the shops would all lose their ‘exciting’ factor, and I’d much rather have the quiet Taupo streets!”

It’s commonplace for high-performing female athletes to excel in most areas of their lives, and Sammie is no different, slotting right into this stereotype. Throughout the early years, her inquisitive mind and passion for learning were continually stimulated by her parents; both high performers in their fields -her father an engineer, and her mother a laboratory phlebotomist. For years, Christmas gifts included books about biology and physics. A consistent top performer in her academic group throughout college, Sammie was awarded DUX in her final year. “In year nine, when our biology teacher gave us an assignment on a disease, we could pick whichever we wanted, and just research about it. I chose chickenpox because I had recently had Shingles (both caused by the varicella-zoster virus -Ed.). Being my typical curious self, instead of just reading a few lines of Wikipedia and calling it a day, when I got home from school that afternoon, I went straight to our massive bookshelf and got the five biggest medical textbooks mum had used while doing her study. I read everything I could about the virus, the immune system, the physiology of the disease and treatments. I became obsessed with the amazing ability of the immune system and knew from that moment on that I wanted to work with biomedical science.

“It’s fair to say that my teacher also agreed when the feedback for my report read something like: “Sammie, I asked for a college assignment, not something that looks like an abstract out of a university thesis”.

Sammie’s competitive nature spurred her toward mountain biking. “My brother and dad would go riding and I guess I wanted to be like them and join their adventures. I loved being ‘tough’ with the boys. When I was young, I would always be throwing myself into things my brother was doing – to try to impress him I guess. My dad would always buy us a McDonald’s ice cream after riding, and who was going to turn down a bribe like that!”

Alongside MTB rides with her family, Sammie picked up triathlon, meaning time spent road cycling. But she knew MTB was really where her heart was, even in those early years. “I love both types of riding and the road and MTB community in Taupo is so amazing, I really am lucky to have been involved in both; however, I always knew that when it came to racing, MTB was what I was best at and what I wanted to do.”

Sammie’s enthusiasm for all things biomedical science, and keenness for mathematics, led her to study a Bachelor of Biomedical Science, moving to Wellington to study at Victoria University. She graduated in 2022 with a Bachelor of Biomedical Science Majoring in Molecular Pathology.

While training her intellect at university, Sammie was finetuning her racing craft on the bike, building the engine that has since lead to her success. Balancing a demanding study schedule with a strict training regime is a tough challenge and many an athlete has cracked under the pressure. Sammy powered through and, after graduating, began working in a research lab specialising in mRNA therapies and neurological disease research. She has a bit of a Clark Kent vs Superman vibe; outside of work life revolves around her training, but a quick change of costume, donning a lab coat, and she’s all business. “I have had my fair share of 5am wake-ups for training, and working until 8pm to fit everything in,” explains Sammie.

“I am lucky to have a great group of supportive people around me who can identify when I’m running low on energy (sometimes running on cortisol alone!) and remind me to take a break -often meaning dialling back the training a bit until the energy catches up. It’s hard work and definitely not something I could do all year around, but in the few months before heading for Europe, it’s nice to do one last push of mahi to remind myself how tough the ‘real world’ can be before jetting off to frolic around Europe for summer with my bike. It makes me very grateful when I am in Europe, and has taught me some intense work ethic which I pride myself on. In Europe when I have a big training day, I always remind myself I still have it easy – I could be in NZ doing that ride in the cold rain, in the pitch black at 6am – giving me an energy boost and making getting out the door a bit easier.”

All the hard work is now reaping rewards, but it’s been a long journey. Sam Thompson has been working with Sammie for five years, since pre-Covid times – first through the CyclingNZ Performance Hub but, after its demise, through the NZ MTB Academy. “We saw riders like Sammie prosper and develop exceptionally well under the MTB Performance Hub programme. When that was shut down there was a real gap in the development support network that needed to be filled. The NZ MTB Academy makes it possible to provide these athletes with professional support (coaching, sport science, strength and conditioning), professional guidance and also some financial support, to help bridge the gap from amateur to professional, and then also support them when they reach that professional space as well.”

In 2019, Sammie attended her first World Champs, in the Junior category, gaining useful experience and finishing in 14th. With racing on pause through the Covid period, Sammie used her time to address some issues which were hampering her success. “I have struggled with under-fuelling for a long time and spent a lot of time during Covid working with an Eating Disorder specialist, and psychologists, to get on top of this. So this year (‘23), when I showed up to Europe, I had a lot more maturity and was ready to start racing and recovering like a pro, to get through the season without fading.”

It wasn’t until 2022 that we saw Sammie start to settle into her groove on the world stage; the hard work of the previous years starting to pay off. It’s obvious from her results at the two world cups she raced in 2022 that her build to the top began back then, and was only exacerbated heading towards the 2023 season thanks to her methodical training and self-belief.

Coach Sam commented; “What stands out from others is her ability and belief to never give up, and her consistency of training. I would have trouble finding a session in the last five years that Sammie simply hasn’t done because she’s put it off. She simply doesn’t miss a session.”

Trusting the process appears to be one of the keys to Sammie’s progress. The 2023 season has shown a consistent build right from back in May at the World Cup opener in Nove Mesto where she finished 8th.

“It was always the plan to not hit the season at peak form – especially since this is my first full season, and we didn’t know how my body would react. So we decided to start a bit slower and use the first few WC races as ‘form builders’ to introduce the intensity needed for racing. It was part of the plan to let the form physically improve through the season – but I think the biggest change was just gaining confidence in my ability and working my way through the starting grid.”

Following Nove Mesto, a month later, the World Cup circus headed to Lenzerheide, Switzerland. A confidence-building 6th place for Sammie and a solid build towards Leogang where we’d see a major breakout performance, with a 2nd place in the XCO after a tough Short Track (XCC) race to open the weekend. Two weeks later things were beginning to click in the XCC and Sammie crossed the line in 4th, the perfect primer for the XCO three days later. Another strong ride and into second at the XCO at Val Di Sole. Confidence, experience and physical form were all coming to a head just in time to peak for her season goal: the World Championships in Glentress, Scotland Then, on the 12th of August, Samara Maxwell became U23 Women XCO World Champion! After a dominant ride, distancing the field on the first climb, she eventually crossed the line draped in a New Zealand flag, having made history; the first Kiwi woman to win a Cross-Country world championship.

“In the days leading up to Worlds we had made a minor suspension change, but everything else was pretty much the same. I think just steady training for a few weeks with some good days over the local ‘cols’ and riding with Ben Oliver helped a lot; I accumulated stress on the bike but Sam (coach) and I were also watching closely because we knew the worst thing we could do would be to accumulate too much fatigue and dig myself into a hole before the event which can easily happen during pinnacle points in the season.

“I was lucky also to have the help of Louis Hamilton in Scotland; he showed me the best lines to take on the course and, as a privateer, this is something I don’t have access to at World Cups, so I owe a lot of my success on the day to him!” Sammie now had the spotlight firmly on her as she steamrolled into the remainder of the season. Heads were turned and everyone wanted some time with the “fresh face” in the pits, who they’d seen grow and develop quickly through the early season. Her secret was out and she thrived on meeting and chatting with so many new people who were discovering this fun- loving, Kiwi world champion for the first time.

“The people are amazing, and the sport is growing so much -it’s awesome! Changes to broadcasting this year allow people back home to watch my races and that’s helped increase the number of people following the sport and created a very exciting atmosphere at events. The girls I race with are amazing and I’ve met some amazing friends this year -I am just so excited to watch this sport develop over the next few years!”

Prime conditions and a strong race in the XCC rewarded her with second place at the opener in Pal Arinsal, Andorra. Sammie’s first outing in the XCO World Champs stripes would come a couple of days later, and in the toughest conditions of the season so far. The venue was hit with storms in the hours leading up to racing, forcing schedule changes (meaning no live feed) and leaving the course sodden and slippery. The form was there but conditions -and the venue being at over 2000m elevation –meant Sammie couldn’t unleash what was required to be back on top, finishing a credible 4th place.

Les Gets was next on the calendar and another dominant display in the XCO where she effectively put her competition to the sword on each climb, putting the group under pressure every time the gradient tipped up. After multiple lead changes throughout the race, Sammie finally made it stick on lap three, taking the lead once and for all, and maintaining a 30-second lead. It wasn’t all said and done, however, and she narrowly avoided catastrophe; crashing on a grassy off-cambered corner in the closing minutes of the race. Fortunately, her gap to second place was enough, and she limited her losses to cross the line with a stellar dance move finish line celebration and take her first World Cup win!

Never one to completely relax, Sammie has taken up learning French this season to keep her mind busy between racing and training. In years to come she’ll be getting plenty of French language practice, after a mid-September signing to high profile, French-based team, Rockrider Ford for the remaining 2023 races, and through until 2026.

“It’s been a dream ever since I can remember to be a professional cyclist. I’m beyond honoured to say, that thanks to Rockrider Ford Racing Team, this dream is finally a reality. I already feel so at home in this team and have had the biggest, warmest welcome. It only makes me more excited to see what we can achieve in the future together.”

With all of the downsides of being a privateer now being taken care of, Sammie can focus solely on being a professional athlete, no longer stressing about having no income while racing across the world. With the mental load of finances and logistics now removed, preparations for next season are already underway. One of Sammie’s goals is to improve her technical descending, an area where she and her coach identified she’s been losing time to her competitors.

Sammie came out swinging at the debut race for her new team in Snowshoe, West Virginia for the XCC World Cup Round 7. Another solid race battling Ronja Blöchlinger for the win but narrowly missing out, finishing second. Snowshoe’s XCO race shaped up to be another epic battle with Blöchlinger, but this time it was Sammie who came out on top. It almost wasn’t to be though, and she narrowly avoided a huge crash on the opening lap, washing the front wheel out on greasy rocks and colliding with a tree, fortunately she stayed upright. Sammie put in a cracking ride, regaining her composure to go blow for blow with Blöchlinger in the early laps. Sammie continually pulled time on the climbs, and by the mid-point of the race had taken lead for the final time, growing the gap for the remaining laps to take the win by a minute, marking a perfect start with her new team.

Next up was a trip across the border to Mont-Sainte-Anne, Quebec, for the eighth and final race of the 2023 season. Blöchlinger rounded off her perfect XCC season with her eighth win, just pipping Sammie for the win again, and collecting valuable overall series points. The XCO race saw the toughest conditions of the season; rain had set in, making the technical course even more technical for even the most skilled riders, leaving them battling not only each other, but the conditions and course as well. At times, the race looked more like a duathlon than an XCO with most riders taking to running sections at times. Thanks in part to Stephan Tempier’s line coaching, Sammie rode the technical sections confidently.

“I was able to ride everything in the wet, even really tough sections that the elite were crashing on, so that was a huge positive. It meant I felt safe and confident and was able to have sooo much fun slipping and sliding my way past people!” Proving her mental resilience after a start loop flat tyre; she chipped away at the field for the entirety of the race, eventually finishing fifth, securing herself third place in the overall series and cementing herself as one of the world’s top XC riders. When asked about any wisdom she wished she had known earlier in her career, and what tips she’d pass on to other young women looking to break into the World Cup circuit, Sammy offered some clear advice:

“Never feel like you’ve got to make sacrifices or suffer unhealthily to succeed. In our heads, we often think elite athletes are insane people who have super-human abilities to suffer, and when it comes to physical training yes, they do suffer, but when it comes to their mentality, the top-of-the-top athletes protect their mental health above all else, and this is something that’s taken me a while to figure out. If our brain is unhappy or starved of the joy and energy it needs, we will never be able to perform at our true potential. So always make sure you are looking after your body and giving yourself the rest you deserve! Plus, eat the damn dessert! I spent too long turning down yummy foods because I thought it was what a real athlete would do – when in reality, ice cream is your superpower! “What it takes to win should be sustainable and enjoyable. You need to believe in yourself, and you can’t do that if you keep feeling like you are having to change the way you function or change what you want to do to succeed. It should come naturally. I can say I wasn’t acting any different for my lead into Scotland than I was during the middle of winter last year in NZ – once again it’s just a matter of trusting the process, loving what you do and enjoying yourself while you put in the work!”

No one gets to the top alone, and it takes a village to support an athlete as they work their way there. Sammie wanted to pass on a special thanks to all who’ve helped and supported her in this journey so far.

We’re excited to watch her develop and see where Sammie’s career takes her as she steps into Elite for the 2024 season. One thing’s for certain: that grin of hers will be showing up in race coverage for many years to come!


This article is taken from:NZ Mountain Biker, Issue #112

Considering SubscribingPurchase Issue #112