Ōtautahi Christchurch: City to Singletrack
Words Liam Friary
Images Cameron Mackenzie & Supplied
Christchurch is a city that’s moved so far forward in the last decade it’s hard to quantify the progression. Its rebuilding has transformed it into a vibrant and modern metropolis, and the city boasts a sophisticated vibe with an ingrained riding culture.
Great trail networks, bike paths, bike storage, and plenty of cyclists getting about. Head closer to the hills, and you’ll find mountain bikers pedalling or bikes racked onto cars bound for the nearest singletrack. The city offers a heap of riding options, primarily centred around Port Hills, Lyttelton, and Christchurch Adventure Park.
Our small antipodean country offers a plethora of riding zones and the southern locations are plentiful, boasting impressive descending metres; however, most of these riding spots don’t have a large city on their doorstep. This is where Christchurch sets itself apart. While I enjoy getting dirty, I also value quality food, well-brewed coffee, and comfortable accommodation. Perhaps it’s just my middle- agedness creeping in, but finding the perfect blend of outdoor play and city sophistication is quite satisfying. Coupled with major events that a city can attract, such as gigs, sports, or festivals, you’ll be searching for more days of leave.
As we crept close to summer, I spent a few days in the city. It was spring, meaning the weather delivered almost everything, but I still got the chance to get out and ride every day. The ease of getting out and about on the bike from the city centre is something I appreciate. The more I can ride and the less I must use a car to rack my bike, the better, even if there’s some bike path or tarmac to pedal before venturing into the singletrack.
Riding Zones
Port Hills delivers the goods right from the city’s edge. I found myself pedalling through suburban streets, and within twenty minutes, I was ascending the Port Hills. I quickly found that the network here is extensive. You could ride a different loop every day for a week and still have trails left to explore.
On the evening of my arrival, I managed to get a few hours’ riding in Lyttelton. The trails there are tight, bush-covered, and some are a little janky, but that’s balanced by the glimpse of the view. You can easily lap a few trails out before either heading over the Port Hills back to the city or descending into Lyttelton. The port-side town certainly offers a unique and cool charm with its old buildings and eclectic characters.
The Christchurch Adventure Park is the drawcard for many, and rightly so. The chairlift access means you can lap out without the uphill grind. The trails cater to every level, from mellow flow up to gnarly tech trails. On the second day of my visit, I lapped out a few flow tracks to get into the rhythm. The uplift meant I could keep my energy focused on the descents. I liked the fact that you can nab several runs in only a few hours. Once I’d had my fill of mellow flow with a bit of tech spice towards the end, I pedalled back to the city for some grub. Again, the proximity of the trails to the city means there’s no need for a vehicle. I thought about the variety within such a compact area. Only about twenty minutes beforehand, I was riding the bike park, and now I was eating some kai right in the heart of the city. For those keen to venture further, Craigieburn is only an hour and a bit up the road. It’s a different beast entirely: high alpine terrain with rocky, technical trails that demand your full attention. On another occasion, I squeezed in a day trip up there, and while it’s a world away from the Port Hills, it’s another option in the arsenal. The fact you can ride groomed bike park berms in the morning and be picking lines through alpine scree by lunchtime speaks volumes about what’s accessible from Christchurch’s doorstep.
Eating Out
Head anywhere in Christchurch, and you’ll find a heap of cafés and restaurants across a wide range of budgets and cuisines. I did think the city has certainly proved its point post-rebuild with the amount of very good eateries. The level has been upped in recent years.
In most spots, the hospitality was delivered in a relaxed manner, but it was dialled in. The well-curated menus and delicious food were something most joints had on lock. This made dining out on most occasions a great experience. And that’s not to mention the countless snazzy restaurants, hip cafes, and local bars pouring the best craft beers on tap.
Over the course of a couple of days, I sampled some of the fine fare on offer. Being posted up in the city meant I could venture out every morning for a good coffee, and often scrambled eggs, which are my go-to. On the backside of the ride days, I ventured to several good restaurants that each had their own unique culinary offerings, character, and vibe.
The first night after riding some of Lyttelton’s singletrack, I rolled into SUPER. This joint has a low-key vibe with artwork everywhere, mood lighting, and staff who are relaxed but helpful. Adding to the character, it’s also housed in the oldest standing building in Lyttelton. The blend of Māori and Japanese cuisine is seen throughout the menu, and one of the standout dishes was the paua and pork dumplings. There’s something about that casual, come- as-you-are atmosphere that works perfectly when you’ve just rolled in covered in dust.
On the second day, I was a little pressed for time, so I pulled up at the Riverside Market, grabbed a refreshing light lager from the small but mighty Christchurch Beer Collective and picked up some kai from Black Burger. After laps at the bike park, nothing hits quite like a good burger and lager from one of the local breweries. The craft beer scene deserves a mention, and Christchurch Beer Collective only pours beers from local breweries.
For my last dinner out, I ventured to Manu. The round loungers with a lazy Susan surrounded by plants make for a cool and cosy atmosphere. The cocktail menu is equally compelling and I ordered a Negroni to open the palate before browsing the Asian fusion fare. The dishes were incredible and shared plates are recommended. The Beef Cheek Rendang is simple but delicious and perfectly cooked.
Coupled with the riding zones mentioned above, this makes the transition from getting rowdy on the trails to tucking into good kai second to none. A solid day of riding is made even better by a good eating-out experience.
Other Activities
Whilst in Christchurch, I attended the trots. Yeah, I know this is a mountain bike publication, not a horse racing one. But hear me out for a moment. It was coupled with Infield, which had music artists Savage and Shapeshifter, so it wasn’t all bets, chinos, dresses, and horse racing. Christchurch is going hard to attract some major events and they’ve got them stacked.
The energy there was something else; thousands of people were out enjoying themselves, music pumping, the vibe relaxed but buzzing. It struck me that this is what a city with confidence looks like. They’re not just rebuilding infrastructure; they’re building culture and experiences. Even for someone visiting primarily to ride, having options like this makes the trip far more appealing. Your non-riding partner or mates can get excited about coming along.
One of these major events is Crankworx, which is returning to Christchurch for its second year. It was a success last year with a real vibe from riders, spectators, and industry. It infused the strong riding community that resides here, and that was evident when the final slopestyle event saw the crowd converging on every grass edge. I was there, and the atmosphere was electric; everyone was absolutely frothing.
The real cool thing is seeing so many young riders turn out in their droves either with their family or mates, and it’s always good to see them get stoked on the sport. I mean, if we can all do our bit to keep them in the scene, then the sports are in good hands for the future.
Crankworx has bigger plans for February, and it’s now part of the Crankworx World Tour. If last year is anything to go by, then it’ll be big! Heck, if you want to take the week off following Crankworx, then there’s Electric Avenue the following weekend. I’ll be aiming to do that and spending some of the week riding more locations on the city’s doorstep.
Beyond the big events, there’s plenty to fill rest days or evenings. The He Puna Taimoana hot pools in New Brighton are perfect for soaking tired legs after a big day at the bike park. They look over New Brighton beach, so you have nice views whilst you soak or sauna. The city also has a solid arts scene, with street art tours and an easy way to get around by tram. Coastal paths around New Brighton offer a different perspective if you fancy a cruisy pedal.
What I appreciated most was the options. You’re not locked into just riding. You can build a proper holiday around Christchurch – ride hard for a few days, catch a gig, soak in hot pools, eat exceptionally well, and actually return home feeling like you’ve had a break rather than just smashed yourself into the ground. That balance is rare, and it’s what keeps me coming back.
Eat | Black Burger, Christchurch Beer Collective, Kokomo, Manu, Rambler, Riverside Market, SUPER
Ride | Christchurch Adventure Park, Craigieburn, Lyttelton, Victoria Park, Port Hills
Stay | Drifter
Do | Crankworx Christchurch, Nostalgia Fest, Urban Polo, Around the Bays, Electric Avenue
Produced in partnership with Christchurch NZ
The Breakthrough Season
Words Joe Millington
Images Mikhail Huggins
29th April 2025 – It’s a desperately early 5.00 am flight at Auckland International Airport. I’m checking in my two enduro bikes on a Qantas flight to Sydney, then onto Colombo via Sri Lankan Air to compete in the Sri Lankan Open Enduro. For the first three months of the six-month trip, I’m travelling with my father. I’m a 19-year-old privateer racing first-year elite on the EDR World Cup circuit in Europe.
My father has invited himself along, and Mum has stayed at home to keep things running.
I’ve had a good NZ summer, competing in most of the enduro races nationally, the Downhill Nationals and Crankworx Rotorua. My best results were second in the Enduro Nationals at Cable Bay, Nelson, and third in the DH Nationals (racing an enduro bike) in Rotorua. It’s the first time in a while that I’ve been injury-free, and I’m feeling pretty fit.
I’ve been invited to the Sri Lankan Open by Shakti from MTB Sri Lanka. I’m not sure what to expect, but the trip sounds like quite the adventure. We touch down in Colombo late at night. Unfortunately, the bikes have not arrived, but Sri Lankan Airlines are extremely helpful, and the bikes arrive on the next flight the following morning.
All the competitors are staying in a mountain lodge resort in Padukka, and the race is set amongst the rubber plantation on the AYR Estate, the only MTB park in Sri Lanka. It’s excellent to meet riders from many Asian countries, including Nepal, India, Malaysia, Japan, and Indonesia, along with a large and very enthusiastic team from Oman. The level of excitement is infectious; the local riders are thrilled to have a rider from NZ who races on the EDR circuit competing in their home event.
It would be an understatement to say that it’s hot. At the top of each run with your helmet on, it’s hot, but when you remove your goggles at the bottom of each run, the hot air hits you like a hair dryer. You actually get warmer when you stop. The air-conditioned shuttle utes are such a relief.
The trails are in good condition, with each stage having a couple of challenging features. The trail builders have worked very hard; with ground foliage growing up to 12 cm a day, it’s a constant battle to keep the jungle back. After two days of exhausting, hot racing, I come away with a win. RG Ripper from Nepal is second. He had raced in the EDR the year before. We had a good battle and a lot of fun at the after-race party.
At the end of the race, all the locals come back to the race village, and the children of all ages ride the competitors’ bikes around the park having a great time. I couldn’t imagine this happening in NZ or Europe at the end of a race, and it will be one of the lasting memories of the event for me. Now onto Finale Ligure, Italy, for the first EDR of 2025.
The EDR World Cup is a seven-race Enduro series raced all through Europe and is the pinnacle of the sport, attracting riders from all over the world. Fully funded factory teams through to privateer riders like me operating out of the back of a van. At 19 years old, I’m the youngest rider in the elite field. It’s definitely a journey into the unknown and I’m up against legends of the sport. Names like Richie Rude, Jack Moir, Jesse Melamed, to name a few, as well as top NZ riders like Charlie Murray, Matt Walker and Eddie Masters. I really have no idea how I’ll go. I’m saying top 30 out loud but secretly thinking that top 20 is possible. My race plate is 95, and I want to improve on that.
Finale Ligure is a great place to ride, but a tough place to race. I ride as well as I can and push all the way, finishing 29th and happy with how I’ve gone. I now realise what I’m up against.
I’m up at 4.30 am the morning after the race to catch a 6.30 am Wizz Air flight out of Nice to Krakow, Poland, for the next race in Bielsko Biała the following weekend. What a contrast: the weather is freezing with snow falling on the practice day and a max temperature of 3 °C.
On the race day, the weather improves slightly to about 7 °C, but the surface is sticky mud, and the racing feels really slow. The big, powerful guys are in their element, and after a long, exhausting day, I finish 32nd with the race plate of 45. I’m on the improve and have broken into the top 30 overall. The local favourite, Slawomir Lukasik, has won his first World Cup, which sends the local fans into raptures. One of the highlights of this event is the crowds. Unlike Downhill, Enduro has no crowd fencing; you just have to stay behind the race tape. In some places, the crowds are leaning across the track as you approach through the rock garden at 40 kph, just moving back as you arrive, making the track very hard to see at times. It’s pretty out of control.
We have two weeks before the next race in Loudenvielle, in the French Pyrenees and spend eight days in Bielsko before catching a flight to Barcelona to pick up a campervan for the seven-hour drive to Loudenvielle.
I’m looking forward to the Loudenvielle race. It’s the first high mountain race, which means it’s very steep, and the stages are long. The rider who brakes the least and stays upright generally goes well. Last year, I finished second here in the junior race.
The day dawns sunny and dry, perfect for me. My race seeding is 31st and after the first three stages, I’m placed 17th. On the fourth stage, I really let it rip and feel like I’ve gone well. I check the live timing and – wow – I’ve finished fourth with one stage to go. The last stage goes even better with a third place after holding first for a while. This moves me to 11th overall. I’m over the moon, 11th in the world, not bad.
The next morning, after some celebration, we pack the van and head to Leogang, Austria via two days of riding in Finale. Leogang is in the Austrian Alps, a beautiful place with massive mountains with snow on the peaks. Another race with long, steep stages, and I’m feeling pretty good.
After some horrendous wet weather on the day before the race, the race day is a slight improvement, but still incredibly wet, muddy and slippery. I’m seeded 17th for this race. The top 30 always start later, rolling out after the elite women, and now I’m riding with all the big dogs.
I’m with Matt Walker, a New Zealand legend who won a World Cup two years earlier in Val di Fassa. Matt is a friendly guy and a very experienced racer, it’s a pleasure to spend the day riding with him. Looking around at the start of each stage, I feel like I’m in impressive company at just 19 years. The race itself is similar to Loudenvielle. I ride fast and clean except on the last stage, where I have an off, which drops me down on that stage. After six long stages, I finish in 13th place which is beyond my expectations. It’s a good night.
We now have almost three weeks off before the next race in Val di Fassa in the heart of the Dolomites, Italy, which I think is the most spectacular place on the circuit.
Before this, though, my friends Lachie, Cooper, Marcus and I have some summer sun and beaches to attend to in Split, Croatia. After a week relaxing in Split, we spend five days riding in Morzine, France before making our way through to Val di Fassa, ready for round five of the EDR World Series.
I’m ranked 11th for this race, my highest ranking yet. This is a four-day event, with two days of practice and two days of racing. It’s going to be a big four days.
After completing the first two days of practice, race day dawns sunny and hot. We have three stages on Saturday and four on Sunday. After the first two stages, I’m 18th overall, but the stages so far have been short, so the time difference between the top 30 is just seconds.
The third stage lasts over eight minutes, starting flat, but the last half changes to steep and technical. I start okay and feel I’m carrying really good speed. Carrying speed with the least amount of effort is the key to long stages. As the trail gets steeper, it suits me more and after 7:55 minutes, I finish fourth. This stage has broken the field up, and I move into eighth place by the end of the first day.
Again, the second day dawns sunny and warm. My goal is to hold my place and try to stay in the top 10. Over the next three stages, I finish ninth, ninth and eighth. A couple of riders have had some bad luck on the sixth stage. Charlie Murray has had a flat tyre, and Tarmo Ryynanen snapped his bike in half. This has moved me up from ninth to seventh. The last stage is short and sharp. I have Charlie half a second behind me, and I know he wants to be the first New Zealander.
I go really hard and just give it my all, crossing the finish line on my absolute limit. I’ve finished sixth on this stage, moving me up to a final position of fifth overall. I’ve just pipped Charlie by under a second.
Eddie Masters interviews me, and Charlie comes over for a chat. He’s disappointed in his earlier flat tyre, but he congratulates me straight away. Enduro is good like that: it’s about the race but also the riders.
It starts to sink in: I’ve just finished fifth in an EDR World Cup at the elite level in my first season. I’m the youngest rider in the field and the first 19-year-old to achieve a top five. My friends Lachie, Marcus and Cooper and the other New Zealand families are happy for me. We have a small and slightly exhausted celebration that night.
There’s still much more action to come in the rest of the season, but as of this moment, I’m very happy.
Crankworx in Aotearoa: Origins and Early Vision
Words Liam Friary, Ariki Tibble, Darren Kinnaird & Tuhua Mutu
Images Fraser Britton, Kike Abelleria and Clint Trahan
The southern hemisphere’s summer is now upon us! And that means Crankworx is returning to New Zealand in 2026 with back-to-back festivals. The Crankworx season kicks off at Christchurch Adventure Park from February 19-22, before heading north to legendary Rotorua from March 11-15.
Christchurch is stepping up big time, hosting full World Tour competitions including the Ōtautahi Slopestyle, Redemption Downhill, and Christchurch Pump Track Challenge. Rotorua returns with the Kārearea Downhill, Dual Slalom, Pump Track Challenge, and the Slopestyle in Memory of McGazza, plus a new event called the Skyline Double Down.
Two festivals, in two incredible riding destinations. Whether you’re there for the big air, the rowdy crowds, or just soaking up the gravity vibes, this is shaping up to be something special. Let’s take a look back and see how Crankworx became such a massive part of New Zealand’s mountain biking story. We sat down with the people who helped build it from the ground up to find out.
Taking the leap to the southern hemisphere: What made Rotorua the right choice for Crankworx’s first southern hemisphere stop back in 2014, and what were the biggest challenges in launching that inaugural 2015 festival?
Darren Kinnaird – Managing Director, Crankworx World Tour
When I visited Rotorua in 2014 for a site visit, I immediately fell in love with the place. The people, the culture, the riding; I knew there was something special here and we needed to bring the mountain biking world here. The biggest challenge was probably the time. There was less than nine months to get ready for the first ever Crankworx in the southern hemisphere in a place most of us had never been.
Equal pay from day one: Crankworx Rotorua was groundbreaking in offering equal prize money for men and women from the very first event. What drove that decision, and how did it influence the broader Crankworx World Tour?
Ariki Tibble – ex-Crankworx New Zealand Chief Executive
When we originally made the call to offer equal prize money from the very first Crankworx Rotorua, it never felt to me like a bold or radical decision. It felt obvious. New Zealand has a long history of championing women’s rights, and we grew up in a country where Kate Sheppard and the suffrage movement are part of the national DNA. Tak Mutu, as Event Director at the time, was our champion for the cause for the NZ operations and for him it was a hill he was prepared to die on if that’s what it was going to take!
Mountain biking was and is still relatively young as a professional sport, which meant we didn’t have the heavy machinery or deeply entrenched hierarchies that I imagine other more established codes might have to grapple with. In some ways, that gave us a gift. We had the chance to get it right from the start, before the cement had hardened.
McGazza’s Legacy: Kelly McGarry was instrumental in shaping Rotorua’s slopestyle course before his tragic passing in 2016. How has his spirit continued to influence the event, and what does it mean to keep his memory alive through the competition?
Ariki Tibble
When I first heard Kelly McGarry’s name, I had only just stepped into the mountain biking world. I didn’t yet understand its legends or its language, so discovering Kelly felt a bit like learning we had a sleeping giant hiding in plain sight. He was physically impossible to miss – six foot five, golden hair flowing, a presence that filled the room even when he wasn’t trying to. But what struck me more was how humble he was, the kind of person who didn’t need to announce who he was because everyone around him already knew.
I first met him properly while he and his best mate, Tom Hey, were shaping the early slopestyle course. I remember standing there, stunned by the scale of the jumps they were carving into the Rotorua dirt. I couldn’t fathom that a human being on a bike could do what they were building for.
But it wasn’t until I travelled to Whistler and walked the village streets with him that I understood who he was to others. We couldn’t move more than a few steps without being stopped. Parents wanted photos. Kids wanted autographs. Fans lit up like they’d seen a movie star. It was then that it landed for me what a big deal he was in the scene, even if back home he was treated like any other bloke.
His passing just a couple of years in shook the community deeply. But what’s stayed with me is how present he still feels. It’s like he’s just on the other side of a door – not gone, just in another room. His voice, his energy, his pioneering spirit linger in the atmosphere of the event. Big personalities have a way of staying with you like that.
Most of the athletes competing now never rode alongside him, yet they carry that same spirit he embodied. Kelly was often the first to drop in on a new feature, the first to test something. Today’s riders honour him every time they push past what seems possible. His legacy isn’t a memory. It’s a living current that still runs through Crankworx Rotorua and the World Tour.
Historic firsts: From Nicholi Rogatkin’s first- ever competition 1080 in 2016 to hosting one of the last major international events before the pandemic in March 2020 – which moments stand out as truly defining for Crankworx NZ?
Ariki Tibble
People often assume the defining moments in Crankworx come from the biggest tricks, the landmark podiums or the viral runs. And those things are incredible. But for me, the moments that stay with me the longest are the ones behind the curtain or under the hood. They’re the orchestral moments when a hundred different people, in a hundred different roles, each carrying their own small piece of the puzzle, somehow manage to come together and create something none of us could have achieved alone. That is the magic I fell in love with during my time working in the Crankworx realm.
One standout example is Loïc Bruni’s run on the Taniwha Downhill in 2023. The day of the race felt like the final boss in a 1980s video game.
Light was fading faster than we expected. Technical teams were stretching the limits of what had ever been done in a forest environment. We were relying on innovations like Starlink and a huge amount of force of will to broadcast something many people had told us wasn’t possible.
By the time Loïc was getting ready to drop in, it felt like the event had carried us to the edge of a cliff. Every challenge we had overcome, the logistics, the technical barriers, the timing, the pressure, had funnelled us into that single, delicate window. And, in the dimming light, Loïc delivered an extraordinary run. It was clutch and clinical and brave. But the reason it meant so much to me is because it also represented the collective clutch of the entire team. His moment only existed because of all of the unseen moments that came before it.
Had he not won that day, I think people would have rightly questioned our decision to push through the fading light. We learned from that experience, and we carried those lessons forward. But on that day, everything aligned. It felt like the mountain, the team, and the sport were all breathing in the same rhythm. Those moments are the tip of an enormous iceberg of collective efforts. And the great privilege for me was having a view and a deep appreciation of that iceberg in its entirety.
The Soul of Crankworx: You’ve described Rotorua as the “soul” of the World Tour (with Whistler as the “heart”). What is it about the Māori culture, the community embrace, and the Rotorua vibe that creates that special identity?
Ariki Tibble
Whenever I try to explain what makes Rotorua the soul of the World Tour, I always end up coming back to things that aren’t easily measured. It’s not infrastructure, or weather, or even the terrain, although all of those things matter. It’s the way people connect here. And for me, that understanding comes from my Māori side, from growing up surrounded by a way of being that teaches you how to welcome, how to include, how to weave people together so they feel like they belong. On my mother’s side I have Irish and Welsh heritage, which came with its own set of gifts. But the lessons about bringing people together, about creating cohesion and allowing people to show up as their full selves, came from watching my cousins on the marae at hui and tangihanga. Māori hospitality is not transactional. It is relational. It is about walking into a space and feeling seen. Feeling safe. Feeling like someone has anticipated your needs without you having to say a word.
Rotorua amplifies that. It is a cultural hub, a place where that way of being is not confined to ceremonial settings but shows up everywhere. Tourism operators, local businesses, volunteers, event staff, aunties on the street; everyone carries a little piece of that same ethos. Visitors often struggle to articulate it. They say things like “It felt like coming home,” even though they’ve never been here before. They feel the warmth before they can name the source.
That is what makes Rotorua the soul of Crankworx. It’s not just another stop on a tour. It’s a place where the event reaches beyond its own boundaries and becomes part of a larger cultural rhythm. The feeling people get here goes straight past the mind and into the chest. It hits the soul, which is exactly why that word feels right.
No spectators, all heart: November 2021 saw Crankworx Rotorua run in a COVID bubble with no public attendance. What was it like pivoting to that broadcast-only format, and how did the team keep the magic alive?
Ariki Tibble
The 2021 COVID bubble event was one of the most intense experiences our team has ever been through. Crankworx is a massive undertaking in the best of times, but the pandemic forced us into a pressure cooker that was shifting by the hour. By the time we reached the event window, that final 30-day countdown where every day increases your financial exposure, the team was already worn down from constant rule changes, public health updates, legal challenges, and uncertainty from partners. It felt like we were trying to build a plane in the dark while flying it through turbulence in uncharted territory.
The business model of any major event is unusual by comparison to other businesses. For Crankworx you spend 355 days preparing for ten days of operation. Your costs climb steadily and then exponentially as you get closer to opening. The day before the gates open is the moment of maximum financial risk and exposure because you’ve committed to the full spend but you haven’t truly earned a dollar. And here we were, in that two-week exponential window, with the expanding Auckland bubble and escalating COVID alert levels – having to refund ticket holders, cancel the expo, renegotiate positions with core partners, and defend our legal right to continue. Meanwhile, athletes had already travelled and were sitting in quarantine, vendors were already setting up and so many of our hard costs had already been incurred. Every element felt high stakes.
Yet despite the pressure, something remarkable happened: the team held together. People stepped into roles they had never done before. Decisions were made in real time collaboratively under immense strain. We took one step at a time, and at every twist another little magic door seemingly opened which we could walk through. And when the event finally took place, even without spectators, there was still something undeniably special about it. It revealed that Crankworx is more than the parts we think are essential. When some of those parts were stripped away, the heart of the event remained.
The consequences of that year rippled far beyond the festival itself. Not everyone felt like it should have gone ahead. We carried the fatigue, the financial impact and the psychological load for years. In some ways, we’re still carrying them now. But the fact that we delivered it at all is something I’ll never forget. It was a hard moment, but it was also a defining one.
Birth of the Summer Series: The Summer Series launched in late 2021, road-tripping through Alexandra, Queenstown, Cardrona, and Wānaka. What was the vision behind taking Crankworx regional, and how has that evolved into the Christchurch festival we saw in 2025?
Darren Kinnaird
The Crankworx Summer Series was born out of a “COVID pivot” of what can we do without mass gatherings. After we did it in BC, the team in NZ was like, “hey we could do that here too”. With so many great riding destinations in New Zealand and New Zealand being a home for so many great mountain bikers, whether they’re from New Zealand or not, it just felt like a no brainer. Christchurch is just the evolution of that original series and the original reason we came to New Zealand in the first place. World-class riding, people and Kiwi spirit!
Homegrown Champion:
Tuhoto-Ariki Pene NZ’s King of Crankworx in 2023 – a rider who started as a young grom at Rotorua in 2016. What does his journey tell us about the talent pipeline Crankworx has helped create in New Zealand?
Tuhua Mutu – Event Director, Crankworx New Zealand
When we launched Crankworx in NZ 12 years ago, we weren’t just bringing an event – we were bringing the world to our doorstep. The best riders, the best tracks, the broadcast machines, the pressure, the scale, the intensity – all of it arrived in our backyard. From the outset, the goal was clear: to show the world’s best riders why New Zealand should be their summer base, and to showcase our destinations, culture, and quality of life.
But the most powerful outcome was what Crankworx did for our own talent. Suddenly, young Kiwi riders no longer had to imagine what “world-class” looked like. Year after year, they could stand next to it. Feel it. Chase it. Hone their craft against the very best. Crankworx also created the platform for these young riders to be seen, giving raw Kiwi talent regular exposure to global brands and industry attention, and helping turn aspiring groms into emerging professional athletes.
Tuhoto was one of those kids. He didn’t just watch Crankworx – he grew up inside it, discovering what it takes to compete on the world stage as he went. Today, just two years on from Tuhoto’s King of Crankworx 2023 achievement, New Zealand’s gravity mountain biking talent pool has exploded to see the deepest and highest performing ever. Riders like Robin Goomes, Lachie Stevens-McNab, Jess Blewitt, Jenna and Kate Hastings, Erice Van Leuven, Ellie Hulsebosch, Sacha Earnest, Tyler Waite, Oli Clark, Charlie Murray, Joe Millington, and Toby and Rory Meek – not to mention rising stars like Winni Goldsbury – are pushing the pace internationally. And then we still have our seasoned veterans like Sam Blenkinsop, Brook Macdonald, Wyn and Ed Masters who continue to cast long shadows, remaining fiercely competitive across multiple disciplines on the world stage.
We’re proud to have helped nurture Kiwi talent from the earliest days, supporting many of today’s world-class gravity riders since they were kids. And the momentum hasn’t peaked – it’s compounding. With Crankworx now embedded in both Rotorua and Christchurch, the next generation is growing up with world- class racing in their own backyard every single year. That means more pathways, more visibility, more opportunity, and ultimately more Kiwi riders stepping onto the world stage. If this is what the first 12 years delivered, just imagine what the next decade could hold.
Christchurch’s debut: February 2025 brought Crankworx to the South Island’s largest city with NZ’s first FMBA Gold Slopestyle. What does having both Rotorua and Christchurch on the calendar mean for the future of mountain biking in New Zealand?
Tuhua Mutu
Back when the very first Crankworx event in New Zealand was conceived, part of the vision was to use the platform to tell a wider story of Aotearoa – recognising that every region has its own unique community, whenua, and culture to celebrate. Rotorua set that foundation, bringing together mana whenua, world-class riding, and a deep culture of hospitality that defined what Crankworx in NZ would stand for.
With Christchurch now on the calendar, that original vision expands in the best possible way. A unified national identity emerges – two regions, two communities, each adding their own flavour to remind the world of the quality of life our backyard offers. Rotorua’s geothermal forests, Māori cultural heart, and long MTB history sit alongside Christchurch’s Port Hills and Southern Alps backdrop, its rejuvenated bike-friendly city environment, and its fast-growing South Island scene.
Together, they form gateways to the wider North and South Island riding landscapes – the ideal playground for every outdoor enthusiast whether you ride bikes well or not! Two world- class Crankworx stops signal a new era: a truly national platform for mountain biking, more development opportunities for Kiwi talent, and a future where New Zealand stands even more firmly among the world’s great riding nations.
Where to next?: Looking at 2026 and beyond, what’s your vision for the evolution of Crankworx in New Zealand and its role in the World Tour? Are there new locations, disciplines, or innovations on the horizon?
Darren Kinnaird
New Zealand continues to be one of the best riding destinations in the world which is a key part of the Crankworx ethos. Who knows what the future holds but as long as there is incredible riding to share with the world in New Zealand, we are keen to help tell that story!
Sammie Maxwell
Words by Lester Perry
Images by Riley McLay
Back in issue #112, we spent time with NZ cross-country phenom, Sammie Maxwell, discovering what makes her tick, her history in the sport, and diving into her stellar 2023 season, which included winning the Under 23 XCO World Championships in Glasgow, Scotland.
Now two seasons on and at home in the elite women’s division, Sammie has wrapped up the 2025 World Cup season on a high. Sammie burst into the 2025 season with a historic win in Araxa, Brazil, becoming the first Kiwi to win a World Cup XCO race. Continuing her season with consistency and resilience, Sammie overcame crashes, mechanicals, and strong competition to take the overall series win, becoming the only Kiwi ever to win a World Cup overall title.
On the way to winning the overall, she finished on all but one of the XCO World Cup podiums across the 10-round series. Sammie won two, finished second at five, and third in two races across the series. Her ‘worst’ result was a sixth place at Lenzerheide two weeks after finishing second at the World Championships in Crans-Montana, Switzerland. As far as consistency and dominance go, Sammie has rewritten the rule book, flinging Kiwi riders into the global spotlight!
When did it first click that you could actually be competing for wins at the top level?
This year! Even when I was winning U23 races, I was always comparing myself to elite lap times etc., and seeing that there was a long way to go to be at the top. This season has been such a surprise to me. After winning Brazil, it felt very much like I was thrown into the deep end, with all that I had to learn, anticipate, and process. I was put into ‘fast-forward’. I remember, early this year in Feb at one of the Continental races, a man came up and said to me, “I think you’ll win a World Cup this year.” I just laughed and turned to my mate, shaking my head, and said, “Some people just don’t know what racing in Europe is like… there is NO WAY I’m winning a World Cup this year…”
Your victory in Brazil was a milestone for New Zealand mountain biking. How did that day unfold for you? What were you thinking about most as you crossed the line?
I wasn’t thinking anything other than utter disbelief! I didn’t know any milestones had been reached, and I don’t think it was what drove me to win the race. For me, titles or records are a cool bonus for a good result, but, honestly on that day (and every other race day) all I want to do is go out and be able to cross the finish line saying “I gave it everything I had – this result represents all the hard work myself and my support team have put into getting here.” It sounds cliché, but it’s true. For me, it’s just about honouring those around me and wanting to see what I can achieve if I hold nothing back, and about also seeing how hard I can push myself.
Has there been a turning point where you knew you’d done the right things to put you at the front of a World Cup and thought, “I’ve got this figured out now”? Maybe you don’t think you’ve got it figured out?
I am far from having everything figured out! In fact, at the end of the season, I sat down with my coach and manager and wrote a 10-page document (not an exaggeration) on my learnings from this year and aspects I want to improve on. But I think that’s the cool (and honestly hard) thing about sports: the moment you think you have it dialled, someone else who’s been working and pushing in the background will come past and overtake you! You’re only as good as your last race, and I’m someone who is constantly striving to be better. This season was very rewarding and showed me I have what it takes when I am given all the support and resources I currently have and am very grateful for. However, it also showed me the pursuit of being ‘the best’ is never ending and if you expect yourself to one day have the ‘magic key’ to winning, you’ll drive yourself mad!
You’ve had to fight back from crashes a few times over the year. What goes through your head when you hit the deck and know that you’re going to have to chase back? What’s the internal dialogue like?
The first thing I think…well, it’s probably something I shouldn’t write down… but after that, it’s just pretty basic thinking. In the middle of a bike race, we’re all working mostly off our ‘primitive’ brains; there is not much ‘reasoning’ or ‘emotion processing’ going on. So, when I crash, my thoughts are actually pretty funny to reflect on. I think in Andorra, my thoughts were things like “Get bike off ground!!”, “Top of hill. Go there”, “Pedal hard”, “Just get to top…” Honestly, things that don’t even make grammatical sense! But the key takeaway is that when racing, I always believe anything can happen, that I can get back to the front, and that all I can do right now is pedal as hard as I can. I try hard not to attach to voices doubting pacing, thinking about the other girls, etc. I just focus on myself, the pain in my legs and trying to get into a zone where nothing else matters.
From what I can find, 2025 looked something like this: 32 races, 15 wins, 13 podiums. That’s a seriously impressive season. When you’re chilling away from the races, do you ever pause and think, “Yeah, I did that”, or does it just seem normal to you?
This is the first time I’ve seen these stats, so I definitely haven’t thought about it! But I have reflected a lot on my season, and I’ve come to the realisation that while the results and wins are nice on race weekends as they give me moments to share with my team, they don’t actually mean as much to me as one would think (and as much as I once thought they would). Reflecting on my season showed me that what I’m most proud of is the way I used my voice to promote issues I really cared about, like mental and physical health, and the role I played in inspiring the next generation of riders to be strong, happy and healthy. Talking to and hearing from the young girls (and all the other fans) are probably the best memories I have from the season, not any moments on the podium or crossing the finish line.
Was there a particular race or moment that best summed up your growth as a rider through 2025?
Andorra was pretty special for me because it was the first race where I felt like the world got to really see my mental resilience. But I also think Lake Placid was pretty cool for me. Partly because of all the young riders that were there that I got to interact with, and also because of the way I ‘bounced back’ from a tough race in Lenzerheide. At the end of the season, I was actually really emotionally and mentally cooked, my eating disorder was wreaking havoc in my brain, and I was in a pretty bad place if I’m being honest. But I caught myself switching back to bad habits and reset my behaviours, stopping myself from ‘digging the hole deeper’. Old Sammie definitely would not have had the same mental perspective and awareness to do so and probably would have cracked hard in those last two rounds!
Did you have any behind-the-scenes challenges through the year that people may not know about?
Some included my studies and exams; balancing time with this and racing was a lot. And obviously, there were my eating disorder thoughts, which were a constant battle. It’s something I struggle to explain to people who haven’t experienced it, but some days it felt like I was being followed by a bear or something, and my body was in a constant “fight or flight” response; pretty exhausting, especially during race weeks. But luckily, my coach, team, friends, and psychologists would always help me return to a calm state, or remind me that the struggle wouldn’t be forever, and that I was strong enough to sit with the tough emotions or thoughts until they passed. Surviving a storm is always much easier when you know sunny days are ahead.
The race calendar is long and demanding. How did you manage your energy, mentally and physically, to stay consistent across so many rounds?
Staying focused on just the week ahead of me was pretty helpful. Breaking things down into small, manageable chunks is something we athletes are pretty good at. Also using techniques I had discussed with my psychologist and coach, like meditation, mindfulness, breathing, helped calm me mentally. While physically rest is pretty easy – rest days, naps, good fuelling, massages, etc! Basically, as you can see, a lot of this was me relying on others’ resources to ‘top up the cup’ when I noticed it getting empty, and it’s one of the reasons why I say I couldn’t have done this season as I did without the support of others!
Were there any particular changes that you made after last season that contributed to this year’s successes and the step up from last year?
I focused a lot more on skills – shoutout to Louis from Tuned coaching – and was eating a lot more. For example, I started doubling the amount of carbs I would race with and, during training, increasing my food intake by up to 50% on some days! I also changed the way I did pre-rides of courses and paid special attention to slowing down in my recon laps, to really absorb the details of the course and analyse the best lines for me.
At least in the MTB world, you’re now a household name. Have there been any noticeable changes in life as you’ve been thrust into the limelight?
People recognised me more, and I had a few more followers on Insta! I’ve actually really enjoyed this aspect of success; as I said before, I’m proud of the way I’ve used my increased social presence to promote messages of health and wellbeing. I’d like to think it contributes to making the MTB community a better place for everyone.
Do you have plans to make any changes coming into 2026?
I’m going to be putting more emphasis on therapy for my eating disorder and continue building to be the best athlete I can be for the future.
From a technical or tactical perspective, what do you think separates a ‘good’ XCO rider from a winning one?
I think having confidence in your ability makes such a big difference. If I had a bad start or crashed and found myself fighting for 10th position, etc. I told myself I belonged back at the front of the race. I wouldn’t “settle” into a group further down in the field; instead, I just kept pushing. It also meant I wouldn’t panic, sprint for one or two climbs, then blow myself into the red zone too soon. And obviously, confidence on the downhills is key to riding well. The worst crashes always happen after a moment of self- doubt, hesitation, and a big pull of the brakes!
How do you keep the fire going into 2026 after such a great 2025? Are there particular goals or races you’d like to tick off?
I’m always driven to push more watts, lift bigger weights, etc, so there’s no problem with motivation! I’m someone who just gets so much joy from the process of training that the results I get don’t really change this.
Maybe I’ve missed something, but where did the podium Marmite come from? I hope you’ve shared this delicacy with your teammates. What do they reckon?
I love Marmite. I have it with everything. I tagged Marmite in a post that said I needed some delivered to Europe as a joke, and they responded by sending me some custom jars! I’m glad to report that most of them don’t have the acquired taste (more for me), but a lot of the Brits and Aussies at the World Cups are jealous that I have my secret stash.
Are you doing any work back in the laboratory during the off-season? Any study happening? Are you still working on your French, or have you got that dialled in enough now?
I hope to be doing some in Feb, and I’ve actually enrolled in a Post-Graduate Diploma for Clinical Research next year, which will be the next step I need to work towards a PhD one day. I also love learning French, but I will take a break from that as I do more medical research studies; however, living with the French team is basically just one never-ending French lesson anyway!
Are there any other cycling disciplines that pique your interest and you’d like to give a nudge?
Definitely not cyclocross…I hate winter, the snow, and being cold, so you’ll never catch me sticking around in Europe during winter when I could be flying home to NZ summer. I am interested in road racing, but currently it would only be a way to supplement my MTB performances. I still have too many goals I want to achieve on the knobbly tyres before I start thinking seriously about joining the dark side.
Thanks, Sammie, for your time, and good luck for the ‘26 season. We at NZ Mountain Biker Mag will be cheering you on!
