26–30th january 2026.
Photographs captured in the Canterbury high country section of the course during days two to six of the 2026 Tour Te Waipounamu bikepacking race.
Tour Te Waipounamu follows the South Island high country and the foothills of the Southern Alps for 1331 km from remote Cape Farewell at the island’s northern tip, to Slope Point, at its southernmost point. Between often-distant resupply points it tackles ~21,500m of elevation gain; much of it on steep, rough dirt roads and technical back country hiking routes. Sometimes there’s not much trail at all, requiring extended hike-a-bike and bike carrying over the route’s highest points. It’s not just a bike race: it’s a remote back country adventure, calling on sound outdoor skills including navigation and river sense and a determination to keep on moving no matter how slowly you’re going. The race features much more terrain than that illustrated in these photos from the middle 500 kilometres of the course, but these give a taste of the conditions and regions encountered and an insight into the physical demands.
After being accepted into and finishing the first three editions of Tour Te Waipounamu in 2021, 2022 and 2024, and learning so much from those experiences, I looked forward to documenting some of the 2026 race and being an observer, rather than a participant in an event that for many is one of the most (if not the most) gruelling, yet rewarding, experiences of their lives. A combination of Tour Te Waipounamu’s ethos and limited, application-basis, entry means that the event not only demands the best of oneself in physical ability, character, determination and self reliance – it also has a tendency to inspire and encourage people to put their best foot forward and dig that little bit deeper.
Most people completing a bikepacking race will experience profound physical and emotional highs and lows along the way. On the sidelines you witness this as you encounter people somewhere along the unpredictable undulations of that cycle. Sometimes I was the only person an individual racer had seen for hours. Consequently, some expressed their psyche and joy, others their doubts and discomforts, while some had drawn a mask of focus over their faces such that they gave little away, keeping Slope Point firmly in their sights.
My alarm wakes me at 5am on Monday morning (day two of the race) at Lake Taylor, a campsite and road-end for access to the Lake Sumner region. I knew it wasn’t until much later that morning in the 2024 race that the leader, Joe Nation, had reached the Hurunui River, where I first planned to shoot, but with Justinas Leveika here and this year’s strong field I don’t want to miss the action should someone ride right through the night.
After monitoring the dots and debating when to arrive at the river I think I have a plan locked down, until Justinas’ and Hooch’s dots leap forward at least a couple of hours after the tracker signal was delayed by the thick forest. Shaken into action, I wolf down some breakfast and ride off in full waterproofs for the undulating and muddy 19km ride to Hurunui River north branch crossing. Light rain has been falling since dawn, and the ground is unusually sodden for this time of year.
I get to the river at 9am. It’s grey and showery in the Hurunui Valley and the peaks are smothered in low cloud and mist. The only breeze is that from my hand sweeping away the sand flies that cloud my face as I take my camera gear out of dry bags and test some compositions. There’s no phone signal now, but I’m in contact by InReach with my partner Hana for updates.
30 minutes later, Justinas rides into sight, charging along the river flats in the distance. Despite muddy conditions on the technical Hope Kiwi Track slowing everyone down, he’s still roughly two hours ahead of Joe’s 2024 time. Barely pausing on the river banks, he wades into the 30 metre wide river ford, which is a little deeper than it looks.
Justinas would not be the first race participant over the three editions to comment on the surprise difficulty of the Hope Kiwi Track as he sits down to clear gravel from his shoes. Detectably a little ruffled, but still smiling, he comments “I did not expect that!” referring to the tramping track’s mud and greasy technical riding over tree roots and rocks with frequent hike-a-bike dismounts. It’s intricate and difficult in the dry, but desperate when wet.
He gives me a fist bump and continues quickly into the drizzle.
I retreat to the refuge of the beech trees to hide from the rain, but 30 minutes later it’s still falling steadily when Hooch (Luke Hoetjes) approaches the river and wades through. Having trained on the Hope Kiwi earlier in the summer he knew what to expect of the track and looks focussed and strong as he pauses to put on his rain jacket.
We chat for a moment. He tells me his brother had cut his knee open badly on the Hope Kiwi on one of their training rides – preventing him from racing TTW.
“There’s a big climb coming now eh?” he says as he rides off into the murk. In the early hours of the morning he’d stopped for about 4.5 hours at the Boyle resupply, Justinas just 2.5 hours.
The day has brightened up a bit by the time Jim Ashley crosses at about 12.15. He barely pauses except to scan the distant river terrace for his pursuers, Joe and Rufus who roll up to the river’s edge about 10 minutes behind.
A heavy shower is falling as Joe and Rufus (first and second place in 2024) reach the bank and prepare to cross. Briefly, the rain is heavy enough that it turns the surface of the water into a misty froth.
Defending champion Joe charges through, recovering from a slight stumble in the deepest part. Like everyone else, he pauses to search the flats on the other side of the river for other riders. Although he’s made up time on the leading pair on the Hope Kiwi, I sense a slight disappointment at his position two and a half hours behind Justinas, but his comment “I’m doing what I can,” says it all.
Rufus has a bit less urgency about him as he stops to wash sand from his shoes and mud from his clothes and find some food.
Shouldering his single speed, sixth place Phill Davies (lead single speeder), strides through the river. Like the others, demonstrating the focussed awareness of someone who is both pursuee and pursuer. The sense of relentless urgency of being in a bikepacking race has been likened to being a convict on the run and I can see it in Phill. Although we’re good mates, there’s barely a word shared between us as I shoot and Phill concentrates on his race.
“I just want to get over the Dampier Range in daylight, and then I’ll let those guys go,” he says. But I have a suspicion he won’t be slowing down.
I had planned to photograph up on the Lake Mason climb too, but as I pack my gear and head down valley at 1.30pm, drizzle and then rain sets in steadily and the blanket of cloud sinks deeper into the valley. By the time I reach Lake Taylor my bike’s so muddy I stop and dunk it in the lake.
The rain continues as I sit in the car, editing and uploading some photos to send to the media team with some notes for commentary and social media. If I’m quick, I’ll be able to leave in time to make the nearly four hour drive around to the Mount White Bridge, near Highway 73 to catch the leaders emerging from Mt White Station after the huge hike-a-bike over the Dampier Range and the long ride down the Esk Valley and Mt White Road.
Driving through the steep hills out to Hawarden, on the plains, I pass flooded side creeks and then climb Porters Pass into heavy rain, which continues on and off towards Mt White Bridge. Justinas is on Highway 73 by then, so I double back a few kilometres and wait for him at the start of the Coal Pit Spur track.
“Hey, it’s you again,” says Justinas, stopping beside me as I crouch in the flowers. It’s past sunset, gloomy and damp. The rain’s eased to a light drizzle. 4000 ISO and f2 is the only way to capture anything sharp. I’m impressed that even after a full day in the rain and mud, and the very physical, often trackless, hike-a-bike over the Dampier Range, Justinas still has the presence of mind to ask how I’d gotten out from Hurunui River, where he last saw me.
We talk for less than a minute before Hooch rides into view, stops alongside Justinas and they fist bump. It’s evident in their camaraderie that they’re both stoked to be beyond the first high mountain hike-a-bike of the route – completed in the worst conditions of any edition of the race. They speak of driving rain, water pouring down the trail ruts and rising rivers. It’s no surprise that Justinas says he was saturated; the waist-high snowgrass on the range soaks you in even the lightest rain. He crashed twice too.
They dig food from wet pockets as they talk and ride off along the overgrown track.
By the time I park the car near the Mt White Bridge it’s dark and raining steadily. As I sit there editing photos, I make out Joe’s light, blurry through my rain streaked windows as he persistently rides on into the night. I drive across the braids of the Waimakariri River and park at Hawdon Shelter to cook some food. It’s sometime after midnight when I crawl under my sleeping bag in the back of the car and pass out for a few hours.
When I wake at 6am it takes me a moment to realise where I am. It’s still raining. I knock back a cold coffee, check the tracker and drive down to Andrews Shelter a few kilometres away.
Outside the shelter Andrews Stream is running high and dirty. This hut is the first roof-and-walls shelter riders reach after they leave the dilapidated Andersons Hut at the base of the descent off the Dampier Range, 55 kilometres back. For 40km of that private high country station section it’s forbidden to stop and sleep, so Andrews Shelter is a valued sanctuary for those riding well into the night and a few hours earlier Phill Davies had pit stopped here.
I’ve never slept there in the race but I’ve used it to collect myself, fill water and change socks after hours upon hours of wet feet.
I find Gary Hall, in 7th place, packing to leave after a five hour stop, having slept for just 1.5 hours on the first night of the race. He’d struggled with flooded creeks coming down the Esk in the dark, and all his gear looks wet but he’s motivated and firing to get going – cramming down a Radix meal (he’s carrying a stove, which is uncommon for the fast end of the race) and readying his bike.
I drive down the road and catch a shot of Gary powering towards Mt White Bridge and SH73 as the rain ceases and the mist begins to lift.
Driving back past the shelter I spot a new arrival’s bike outside, and find UK rider Angus Young sitting inside, looking somewhat unrushed for someone who’s considered a podium contender. Among other world-class results, Angus won the 2023 HT550 and is here off the back of three months bikepacking in the Andes with his wife Megan (also racing TTW).
Crossing the vast, soaking wet tussock fields of the Dampier Range in bad weather he’d lost his sleep kit and spent 30 minutes searching before he found it. Then his tracker died. Later in the night he stopped to sort himself out in the shelter of a private hut verandah in the Esk Valley and decided to sleep for a couple of hours; unfortunately, not realising he was within the no sleeping/camping zone until morning. When he got mobile coverage again he messaged race director Brian Alder to voluntarily disqualify himself. As a sign of goodwill, he was allowed to continue tracked for the rest of the event, marked as DQed. As I left Angus was rolling out his bivvy bag for a longer sleep, now the urgency was gone.
Some of the exposed mountain sections of TTW can be daunting to tackle alone in poor weather, and previous years’ events have demonstrated that it’s not uncommon (in fact, it’s recommended when rivers are concerned) to buddy up with people for confidence and safety in numbers. Both the Dampier Range and Stag Saddle (the route’s highest point) have only the vaguest ground trail in places, so having two sets of eyes can aid navigation, especially in the dark and mist as it was for many riders crossing the Dampier Range this year.
Ash Whitehead and George Davies (both, above) had descended off the range at dusk and slept for a while at Andersons Hut. They didn’t stop to talk as they rode swiftly past on the rain soaked gravel, looking focussed, but I learned later they’d teamed up for one or two flooded river crossings coming down the Esk – crossing as a pair with one bike and then returning for the next. I imagine George would have been extra wary of the rivers, having lost his bike and gear crossing a flooded stream at night during the 2024 Renegades Muster.
Further up valley I find second placed single speeder Pete Marriott, who I’d crossed much of the Dampier Range with in the 2024 edition. He tells me he’d arrived at Andersons Hut after the steep and muddy descent off the Dampier to find the hut full, so bivvied outside in the rain beneath dripping beech trees.
Will Mathieson (Greyboy) pushed his bike up a long, steep grade, overlooking the Waimakariri River, eating as he walked. Each rider I meet reveals a bit more about last night’s weather conditions and ensuing drama. Will says there were five people sleeping on two mattresses on the floor at Andersons Hut (the two bunks are broken) with more arriving through the night, some suffering and shivering from the cold and wet.
Even crossing the range in light rain but strong wind in 2021, I recall arriving at Andersons in the early evening and being unable to stop shivering, so got into my sleeping bag for 30 minutes before continuing into the night.
The day is finally beginning to warm up when I find Matty King stopped and wringing the water from his socks, talking too of the rough night.
Poulter River bridge (left side of photo) signals the end of the Esk/Mt White Station no-sleeping zone.
Just above the bridge a few riders pass in quick succession, and I catch shots of Sam Snowdon (above), attempting his third TTW. The conditions and effort of the past 24 hours are written into everyones faces, their positions on the bike and by mud over everything.
Aiming for a second, faster TTW finish, Matt Dewes mutters “it wasn’t like last time!” referring to the warm and clear conditions of 2024, when four of us had bivvied on the Dampier Range under a brightly star-filled night sky.
By the time I drive out and head around to the Craigieburn area for the afternoon it’s as if it’s a different day. The streams are still up and the tracks are muddy, but it’s warm and calm. Here, the singletrack route dives in and out of beech forest and crosses meadows of shimmering tussock and dracophyllum, but there’s no rest on the short steep climbs for Matty King, above.
Another TTW second-timer Doug Hilson, eyeballed the normally ridable Tims Stream before dismounting to wade the still-high crossing.
About 20 minutes behind Doug, Ev Caygill rode past looking like he was having fun. Except for a mad rush during a gap between riders to go to Castle Hill Village to charge my laptop, I spend most of the afternoon on foot on the singletracks or relocating by car between access points to the tracks.
Despite having a phone signal and watching Maprogress closely the timing of riders is a guessing game due to unreliable tracker signals under the forest cover. I’m not quite ready with camera when Peg Leyland pops into view through the tall snowgrass. A podium contender for the womens race, Peg was now in first place after race favourite Emma Bateup’s day one withdrawal (due to ongoing concussion symptoms) and Sami Sauri’s scratch earlier this day.
Along with derailleur issues, Sami injured her foot wading a flooded stream after her 8-hour night time crossing of the Dampier Range, during which she suffered badly from cold. Sometime that night she reportedly said “Silk Road [mountain race] has nothing on this!”.
50 year old Peg was holding a strong position and rode past with a big smile.
Shortly behind Peg came Mateo Paez (USA) and Simon Eglinton (Australia). Both experienced racers and TTW first timers, they’re two of the record number of overseas riders this year.
And on their tail, Wolferine (Evan Woolf) who’s always good for a trailside chat. Evan finished the 2024 TTW in a more-broken-than-normal state and is back for a second crack at it.
I relocate to Castle Hill Village and run up the Hogs Back Track just in time to catch Peg a second time – and still smiling.
I wait around and shoot a few more riders, but the light’s rubbish and the mist is creeping lower, so by 7:30pm I’m done. It’s a 74 kilometre drive to Methven (a crucial resupply on the course) where I’ll stay the night. Driving the route past Lake Lyndon and down the Rakaia Valley towards the plains, it takes so long to catch up to Peg that I’m already convinced I must have missed her back in the dark somewhere. She’s motoring.
At a friends house in Methven I put all my gear on to charge and repeat the cycle of upload, eat, edit and post. It’s 2am when I go to sleep and wake up reluctantly shortly after dawn with a splitting headache. Brian’s messaged to report a gaggle of riders at the Methven 4 Square store, and wants to meet for a coffee, so I throw everything back into the car and head into town. I’m barely awake as I try to compose a few shots outside the shop.
This is the first resupply since the rider’s food parcels at Boyle Lodge, 250 kilometres earlier, or 24–36 hours for most riders, and there’s not another reliable opportunity until Tekapo, beyond the Two Thumb Range and Stag Saddle. Among the riders coming and going and packing food, Australian 2025 Tassie Gift winner Loic Fery (below) sits with his supplies.
If you’ve had a problem with your bike, Methven’s Big Als bike shop is the place to fix it as there are no other opportunities on the course as good as this after day one. Inevitably there was already a queue by the time they opened. Alastair MacDowell (centre) tucked into a solid breakfast while he waited his turn. Alastair’s in TTW for the first time and although he’s not known as a bikepacker his historic mountaineering achievements speak to his attitude and endurance ability. Peg slept at the campground and seems relaxed as she readies to hit the long flat ride down the Canterbury Plains.
George Davey had been holding an impressive position in his first TTW but is held up by mechanical issues and was waiting his turn outside the bike shop.
My mission for the day is to drive to Tekapo and up Lilybank Road, alongside Lake Tekapo to spend the afternoon photographing in the Coal Stream and Camp Stream Hut area. This section involves some spectacular South Island high country riding in the Two Thumb Range, with views of the Southern Alps and the vast Mackenzie Basin.
By this point, the riders I’ll encounter will have crossed Stag Saddle and descended Snake Ridge, but the alpine terrain does not immediately provide easy miles to Tekapo. Fast double track downhills and technical singletrack are separated by stream crossings, intermittent ground trail, thorny tangles of matagouri scrub and grovelly hike-a-bike.
I park at the locked gate on the Round Hill Skifield access road and ride 3km steeply uphill to where the TTW route crosses the road. To my right, the route becomes much easier travel along the singletrack of the Richmond Track as it follows an ancient river terrace towards Tekapo. I head left, along tight singletrack for about half a kilometre until the track plunges off the terrace, too steeply to ride, towards the Coal River (photo above viewed from the ski road).
It’s ironic that the top of the terrace is the point I abandon my bike in a clump of tussock, knowing that although there’s rideable sections beyond, it’ll be more hassle than it’s worth to take it further along the TTW route to Camp Stream Hut.
As I walk over the edge I see Gary Hall (below), on his way up the steepest part of the hike-a-bike up to the terrace. This short but notoriously hard carry catches many exhausted riders unawares right when they they expect easier travel is imminent, but Gary doesn’t seem to struggle.
He’s in good spirits, the Queen Stage behind him and Tekapo to look forward to on a sunny day.
I head down into the valley and upstream to the Coal Stream – Camp Stream confluence. The rivers are higher than previous years and the ground swampier. Even without a bike I have to be careful with my line and footing as I cross the Coal River three times.
30 minutes behind Gary, Ash Whitehead ducks and dives through the scrub, walking and riding, along patches of Camp Stream single track above the confluence.
Without a bike I make quick time to Camp Stream Hut – an historic musterer’s hut which is a popular night stop on the Te Araroa trail. I eat lunch there and check in with Hana on the InReach. There’s several riders stretched between Rex Simpson Hut and Stag Saddle so I should have plenty to work with for the next few hours.
As I carry on uphill, the scale of the hut within its steep surroundings comes into perspective.
As I climb up to the saddle between Camp Stream and Rex Simpson Hut, Angus Young descends the rocky double track, pauses at the Camp Stream crossing for a moment and also soon fades into the vast scale of the Two Thumb Range.
Shortly behind, Pete Marriott (lower right) comes by. He tells me he’s suffering badly from hives on his back and is looking forward to getting his pack off his back once on the road. Nonetheless, he’s making excellent time over this section.
The saddle provides an amazing vantage point over the broad Godley Valley and the Liebig Range, as well as down to Matty King and Will Mathieson hiking up the rocky climb from Rex Simpson.
As they fade off into the tussock, I start back too, aiming to shoot Doug Hilson and Matt Dewes at some spots closer to hut.
Doug’s first, on a section of fast double track, with Camp Stream winding between the river terraces in the background. The left-right valley at the end of the terraces is the Coal River.
I sprint down the hill just in time to get Matt as he drops off the terrace on a short, steep singletrack near the hut. I’d practised both of the above compositions on the walk in so I’d have something to work with later on if I was rushed – as I was.
Doug drops in next, close behind Matt, after being held up by a tyre that was barely holding air.
Down in the riverbed Doug stops to sort out his tyre, while I run off ahead to photograph Matt on his way through the scrubby valley. Matt had a Restrap bike carry harness this year and commented that it was his preference versus being without one last time – being much easier on his arms.
As they climb the steep carry out of Coal Stream, Matt and Doug – like Gary – look comfortable and efficient, as if they’re in the desired zone of bikepacking racing equilibrium, when your headspace is positive, your energy demands are being met and your body knows what to do, and will likely keep on doing it until you reach the finish.
Coal River and the Godley Valley, captured as I make my way back to the car, seven hours after I left it. Regardless of the photography it had been a really nice day out in some of my favourite South Island high country.
By the time I get back to Tekapo Matty and Will are finishing up their pit stop at the 4 Square.
It was another late night by the time I’d eaten dinner and taken care of editing and uploading photos. The Benmore Dam end of the Black Forest section of the course was the next location I had in mind, where I hoped to catch a few shots overlooking Lake Benmore from the final hill before the dam.
I arrive at the Alps to Ocean track parking area near Benmore Dam around 2am, to find Phill Davies settling in to sleep in the grass. Phill was still the lead single speeder and sitting in an impressive 5th overall, maintaining a solid position between Jim Ashley in 4th and Gary Hall in 6th, but coming through Black Forest Station his rear brake lever had failed. This necessitated a detour to the closest bike/bike rental shop, which would mean waiting until dawn to hitchhike to Omarama, 30 kilometres away.
Shortly after I pull up in the car it begins to rain, so Phill repacks to move somewhere with more shelter, while I settle into the back of my car to sleep.
Although Phill’s detour and brake fix was quickly dealt with in daylight, he fell back three places and lost the single speed lead to Pete Marriott, while the riders behind him entered the long, high crossing of the Hawkdun Range. Phill had nearly clawed two of those places back by the time Pete and Ash Whitehead reached the rock strewn descent off the Hawkduns, and then distanced the pair when they stopped to sleep at Oliverburn Hut, in the next mountain range. Despite getting very close to Gary Hall, he never managed to reel him in before finishing in 6th place overall.
After a few hours sleep I catch Pete Marriott as he rides across Benmore Dam and into the single speed lead.
It’s a very windy morning and ominous clouds form over the Hawkdun Range as I ride into Black Forest Station with views back to the key resupply of Otematata.
While in the other direction I can see Aoraki Mount Cook framed by the ranges around Lake Benmore.
If you’re feeling ok, the steep but smooth climbs and eye watering descents of Black Forest Station actually provide a bit of relief compared with the much harder travel of Stag Saddle or the looming Hawkdun Range, but if the wheels are falling off or the day is hot it can be little fun at all.
The final big climb crosses the saddle just right of centre at the top of the photo, but it’s followed by a couple of savagely steep shorter climbs that reduce most people to walking. Will Mathieson rolls through first, about 1.5 hours ahead of Matty, who he’d left Tekapo with.
Matty King on the final climb before the descent to the dam and the welcome Otematata On the Spot store.
Matt Dewes powers through next, charging up the climb like the shop was about to close (it wasn’t).
I make a quick stop at the On the Spot in Otematata to catch Matt and Doug refilling before they tackle the 8-ish hour crossing of the Hawkduns to Oturehua. My next stop will be back in the Mackenzie Basin, where I hope to catch lead female Peg Leyland somewhere along the canals. By now thick cloud is boiling over the mountains, hiding Aoraki, as the wind roars over the divide and across the lakes.
From the Tekapo Canal road I walk a short way onto the grassy double track route that TTW shares with Te Araroa before reaching Lake Pukaki. It had been dark and drizzling when I rode through here during the 2024 event, but I guessed it might be a good to spot to shoot with the main divide of the Southern Alps in the background. Evan Woolf rolled through looking and sounding comfortable, managing his effort more conservatively that his 2024 run, but ended up scratching later that day or the next.
I walk back to the car and ride down the other side of the canal for a while, stopping to catch Simon Edlington just after a bend in the canal which turned the strong headwind into a sidewind – soon to be a tailwind on the doubletrack.
While a bit further back Gary Lindbom (in his first TTW) burns off a group of e-bikers.
Back in the car I drive round to the canal road east of SH8, and walk along the canal to wait for Peg. The wind feels even fiercer here, blowing her off line as she approaches in the distance.
But after a decent break in Tekapo she looks to be riding strongly and securely holding onto her lead, with second placed Eva Dethlefsen 6.5 hours behind when Peg left Tekapo.
Peg maintained this lead across the basin, through Black Forest Station and into the Hawkduns, when the lead began to shrink. After descending the Hawkduns, Peg took a 8.5 hour break in Oturehua, while Eva stopped for just 3 hours at Wire Yards Hut high on the range. Eva then passed Peg while she was still in Oturehua, initiating a close duel between the two for the remaining 300km.
Shortly into the Richmond Track, where it descends steeply to the road I catch the lead team, Bigmouth Strikes Again (Adam Carlson and Tom Baker), riding TTW together for the second time.
I walk further along the track and wait for Eva Dethlefsen, first catching sight of her as she drops off the edge of one of the big terraces on the descent.
“It’s been the best day,” she says with a smile when she stops beside me – having had good conditions getting through the Two Thumbs and obviously feeling in the zone with energy. I wish her well as she continues towards the road.
Next down the track is Daniel Gona, another second timer, many hours up on his previous time, and UK rider Megan Young, third placed female. She tells me she’s suffering, having been a bit sick the previous day, and being low on both food and energy.
Close behind Megan is Mike Norman, a super experienced Australian racing TTW for his second time at 57. I catch some shots of him on the gravel road, but he stops when he sees me, and his body language says it all. He’s been unable to eat properly and has injured his shoulder, possibly on the bike carries, leaving him unable to raise his arm past horizontal.
“I’ve never had anything go wrong before,” he says sounding defeated, and commenting how much harder it’s been this year with the amount of water and mud.
Mike rode on to Tekapo and withdrew from the race.
By 10pm Tekapo’s mostly all shut up for the night and the streets now deserted after humming with tourists all day. I’m on my way back to the car when I find Bryce Lorcet (back after a 2022 finish) very happy to have arrived late yet still secure some food and a pint.
After finishing another edit and upload, it’s back down Lilybank Road for me to park up and pass out in the car.
It’s my final morning before heading home and the calm, bluebird day is slowly warming after a cold night. I’m just in time for three riders at the end of the Richmond Track. From there, if I’m quick, I’ll be able to get back to the singletrack above the Coal River to catch Grant Day and Martin Grethe as they reach the top of the carry. A 3km sprint up the skifield road follows and as I near the edge of the steep slope, Grant and Martin come into view.
Martin’s gesture says it all: the two are amping to be there in the sunshine on a beautiful morning – Stag Saddle and the Two Thumb Range ticked – and food to look forward to in Tekapo.
Grant and I trained a lot together for the 2024 event and it’s great to see both him and Martin looking likely to finish their second TTWs. I hang out while they rearrange clothing after a cold, dark start from Rex Simpson Hut earlier that morning.
Shortly behind them is Steve Scott, “doing it hard” on the hike-a-bike he says, in too much pain to carry his bike. His bike nav isn’t working and one of his shoes is held together with a Voile strap. Steve entered the inaugural 2021 event and was maintaining a very respectable pace when he crashed into a bridge railing on the road into Tekapo, breaking his hand. So he was hanging in there, determined to finish this time.
I turn for home.
More from Tour Te Waipounamu
Official race website
Dotwatcher commentary & race reporting
Bikepacking.com mens winner and recap
Bikepacking.com womens winner and recap
Other photographers on course were Anton McGeachan, Gavin Kaps and Sami Sauri (after her scratch), with Rob Dawson filming, and reporting by Andrew Trevelyan, Benjamin Carrell and Eileen Schwab.
That’s a superb piece of writing Mark. Thanks!
Fantastic write up Mark , and incredible photos . I didn’t quite meet you , I was possibly the next rider behind Steve S. Your story telling has helped bring back memories that are slowly resurfacing two weeks later. We cover so much ground in such a short time that it all becomes like a bit of a dream. This helps a lot in piecing it all together .
Hi Jason – thanks, yes I know exactly what you mean. All that terrain covered, often in a state of exhaustion, leaves us with some patchy memories I’ve discovered. Sorry to just miss you!
Awesome images as always but the story behind the story was epic. Thanks for sharing a photographers journey.
Excellent. The text and the photographs. Bravissimo, Mark.. !
Outstanding, Mark! Beautiful shots and story. An amazing effort to get into some of those locations on foot too!
Thanks Will, outstanding ride yourself!
Great write up Mark. Sounds like photographing the event is as mentally draining as racing it.
Thanks, nice to hear from you Steve 🙂
Great article and photos. No doubt the riders would appreciate the pictures, as with country like that they probably don’t get much time to raise their eyes and enjoy those vistas.