...one final river crossing to the finish line back at Karapoti Park.

It was: glorious, terrible, fun, hard, painful, long, great, awful and awe-inspiring.

I finished in 3:58:11 against my goal of 4 hours. Success. Middle of the pack in one of the most brutal mountain bike races. Not bad at all for a guy who started biking in November. That put me 177th out of the 324 guys who started with me in the mens 30-39 category and 578th out of the 1000 riders.

I started very well, and was on track for a very good time when I went forward over the handle-bars on the tricky, rocky downhill about 45 minutes in. Another rider did the same at the same spot later in the race and was very seriously injured: I was luckier than that. With grazed hip and arm and bent gear lever I struggled on. Then ten minutes later my front wheel slid out from under me while dodging a puddle in mud on a little gentle downhill and I landed hard on my head and back. I think I'd over-inflated my front tyre to try and avoid punctures - which meant not enough grip when I needed it. Much kudos to the rider behind me who stopped and checked me out when I was lying in the mud with a sore neck. Guys like that make biking worthwhile.

I paused a minute to recover & slowed: on the horrible uphill struggles I still held my own, but the downhills were really hard on my bruises and bruised confidence and I lost ground there. My hip and neck hurt. I banged my front brake lever back into shape with a rock. Either I tired immensely or my front suspension stopped doing all it should: every bump on the final downhills seemed to hit my bruised right palm and make my grazed left arm ache. But I pushed on as hard as I was able.

My dad, dear S, and little Iris watched me finish. They cheered me on as I fell into a waist-deep hole in the last river crossing, jumped up and rushed on to the final finish.

Gordie and Brains did very well at 3:38 & 3:42. Scott came in at 4:03, a few metres ahead of his brother-in-law whom he was determined to beat. Those three also get full credit for helping me get the skills and strength to get around the course at all. Our team posted a very respectable total of 15:21 - better than the winning time for the corporate teams last year but sadly not good enough to win us a place this year. We are happy.

I finished. And I finished fast, going hard, on my target time and with a big smile. I was right, dear reader, it did hurt. But it was great.

Then almost 15km of downhill back to the Akatarawa River, Karapoti Gorge and...

Dear reader, we have come down fast towards the end.

It's the evening before the race. Kids illnesses and parental duties meant no practice rides since last Sunday, but that's fine: I'm a family bloke doing this for fun not a professional athelete. I commuted by bike and I rested.

The hard balance tomorrow will be between going out too fast early and burning out, and starting too slow and getting stuck behind a horde of people on the many, many parts of the course where passing is hard. I'm no good at passing: a simple lack of experience.

As for time... who knows. Trevor Mallard did 4hrs 36mins: so that's a bottom limit. I dreamt of 3hrs 30 mins, but Gav who's a very fit and experienced rider & whose bike weighs only 21grams hasn't done a 3:30. A reasonable, achievable target is 4hrs, assuming no mechanical failures.

I'm fitter than I've ever been. I've greased the gears, tightened the brake cables, checked the tyre pressure. I have filled my camelbak and packed 2 spare tubes, puncture repair kit, sugar-goop, and tools.

I'm as ready as I can be.


Go.

The creek crossing marks the start of the final climb, a 3km haul up to the 531m high Dopers Hill

Well, dear reader, there I was: bike in the shop, again. Rear cassette and chain broken. Middle ring on the front buckled. Ticking noise from the headset when it turns. Front derailleur bent. Hubs starting to go.

Scott made the point that maybe I should stop throwing money at repairing a bike that's falling apart and accelerate my plan to get a new bike. My partner agreed. But it was 15 days until the race: if I wanted a new bike before the race, it'd better be now so I could get a few rides in on it.
I'd admired Brains' fully-suspended GT Force 0 and could get one in that very weekend. Very tempting, it's a nice bike at a good price. But... no. Too much money to spend quickly. Instead I draw up long-term plans for Jonty to get me a 29er after the Karapoti race.

$300 in repairs got my poor wee hardtail back into shape: and a grippy tyre on the back to match the front one. Then a hard ride up the tip track and down the roller coaster with Gordie, and it's all looking good.

Last big ride on Sunday morning: one week out from the race. Makara at 8am, up Koru, up Sally Alley, down and up Missing Link, up the gravel road to the top of Leaping Lizard. Then down. Down, down, down. Leaping Lizard's swoopy and fast, but gets dryer and looser and slipperier. I bring up the rear, obviously the slowest among us downhill and just not able to get into the flow. Then I round the corner and Scott's standing himself up half-way down a rocky slope with his bike ten feet above him. He'd rolled clean over the handlebars. Scott tackles the rest at a fair speed but not his normal clip: I hang back with him. And I practice carrying my bike on the uphills. Not sure I'm going to able to run far doing that.

Then Scott departs homeward to ice his damaged shins and we head up Wright's Hill on Salvation. A beautiful track, the first I ever rode back at the start of this. I do like that singletrack. Then down Wright's Hill along the Karori Sanctuary fence. We pause at Long Gully to watch the downhill races and I bludge some dosh off Brains and Jono (Jono wasn't riding with us, he was just watching the downhill) to buy a coffee from the espresso cart. Stop a bit long as my muscles start to freeze up, but after that rest it's up to the windmill, down Car Parts then down the RollerCoaster and home.

Dubbed "Big Ring Boulevard," it's 8km of big smiles (and the occasional endo) to Doper's Creek.

Despite everything, I actually enjoyed the ride.


We set off late on a Wednesday afternoon to go up the rollercoaster to the windmill above Brooklyn, scoot down the road and up to Hawkins Hill, and down the track to Red Rocks, around and up the tip track, back to the windmill, down the rollercoaster. The bike had been in at the shop - new brake pads, new front tyre. But I'm told that the hubs need maintenance and the head-set's going - the bike's just getting a bit worn down.

The Red Rocks track was closed. So we went down the tip track: I couldn't get confident or comfortable on that long steep downhill over loose dirt and gravel. Scott punctured both tyres.

Eventually to the bottom, and the slow grind back up. Gordie forged ahead, I followed, Brains and Scott behind us. Pushing very hard Gordie managed the uphill in around 32 mins, I was a minute or so behind, the others at 90 second intervals back from that. The guys talked about how nasty the climb was, but actually I was starting to enjoy myself. There's something satisfying about taking on something really hard and sweating through it.

So I led off at speed back to the windmill. Down the road from Hawkin's Hill fast, around some bends very fast, then gain a lot speed approaching the bottom for the climb back up to the windmill, whip around the corner leaning hard and... WHO THE HELL PUT A GATE ACROSS THE ROAD!

For a frozen moment it all stopped and I saw my options. Couldn't go left - gap in fence but too small for bike. Couldn't go right. Spin out back wheel & hit gate sideways - not good. Drop bike and slide - not good. Brake straight in & take the gate square, hope to catapult over and roll. Okay.

From freeze-frame to fast-forward. Almost brake, bike-gate, air, me-gate, up, handstick, bLuR.

Why's everything upside down? Brains and Scott screeched in behind to see how I was. And then Gordie came around the corner above and wondered why on earth Mr W was hanging over the top of the gate with his bike on top of his legs and his head almost touching the ground.

In retrospect: The new brake pads and new grippy tyre saved me. I almost stopped. The front wheel hit, and I went over. But the gate took some of the shock. I didn't fly over because my wrists hit the top of the gate, and leverage then held my hands on the handlebars. So bike and all started to go up and over - but the extra leverage and weight of the bike kept us back. So I pivotted hard, hit my jaw on the far side of the gate, and was left hanging head-down. Bruised wrists. Bruised jaw. Severe bruising to my pride.

We went on. What else do you do? A kilometre or so later we're back on rough track by the windmill.

My back tyre punctured. The guys sprang into action with alacrity. And we went on.

My chain broke. Tingley-tink, bits of metal on the ground. Probably because it got kinked up in the crash. Possibly to do with the way the gears hit the top of the gate when the bike landed on me. Gordie impressed me with a little tool to wind a rivets in the chain out and re-link some unbroken bits - so it's somewhat shorter than before. My bike still goes as long as I stay in the middle chain ring. The guys are supporting me wonderfully here, and seem quite pleased to be doing so. It really is worth saying again: What great guys!

My bike and I limp home bruised and battered. But Traveller has come to visit and made an awesome chicken Korma, and little H has held off from eating dinner until nearly her bedtime because she wanted to eat with dad. Awww.

But inspiring views and the awesome downhill to follow makes the effort worthwhile...

Saturday 6:45am we met at Scott's to head out for the Pauatahanui Puffer.

Moz organises this ride yearly: starting at the Pauatahanui shops/school/cafe it's two big loops: a loop up through Belmont Forest Park and a loop up Moonshine Road, Battle Hill Park and back across Transmission Gully paddock. 50km, climbs to around 450m and 400m from a bit above sea-level.

Good fun. Those hill climbs were hard, but we whipped around in about 4 hours with a few rests on the way - like when R's gears broke down completely.

I'm fit, but that early morning start was really hard.

This starts the highest climb, a 3km grind to the 613m high "Titi," both the mental and physical halfway at Karapoti.

After our epic Sunday a Tuesday ride around Makara sounded like a doddle.

Scott started us off by leading us up the first part of Koru at a cracking pace. We joked about that, but then Brains took over as leader and took off, leaving Gordie behind and me trailing a bit further back. Then Gordie took his turn and hammered Sally Alley at very high speed - but I was last behind Scott so I wasn't completely shattered.

We're now well into Makara's grand loop, going very fast up the hills.

Fair's fair, they decided it was my turn to take the lead for the drop off into the gully and up the next ridge and climb up the other side that is Missing Link. I took the downhill with speed, if not grace. My back wheel only left the ground once. And then I hammered the uphill, leaving the others well back. I felt good.

After a brief rest to catch our breaths we contemplated the last part of the climb, Aratihi.

So I led off at speed. Gordie chased me, Scott and Brains tried to keep sight of us. I went hard and fast up the hill. And more hill. And more hill. Doesn't this track bloody stop?

Aratihi is long. It's half the climb. I'd forgotten that. But I kept going because, well, just because. Gordie says he was going to give up chasing me when a switchback brought me back across above him and he could hear that my breathing was as laboured as his. Finally after thinking a dozen times that the top was just two corners away I had to stop and catch my breath - at which point Gordie caught up and revealed that I really was now just 50 metres from the top. Ah well, we stopped to breath for a bit, and then snunk on before the others two caught up and saw us standing still.

Scott's got very fit - he's a large lad and is carrying too much weight to be the fastest uphiller among us, but he's not the slow-coach up the hills I remember from October. Brains didn't have a great day - I suspect he may have hit the gym for some weight training and tired himself out. Gordie's skilled but a bit off his fitness after a broken rib. But things went very well for me.

Then down Varley's and Zac's track - fun but wierd goat tracks along the hillside. Here the other guys' skills shone and they left me behind - but I took in style switchbacks that would have stopped me dead a while back. And finally out Wahine to Karori Park.

There's no doubt I've a long way to go with the skills, but I'm very pleased with my progress. I've got the basics of balance under control, I'm taking corners cleanly and diving into simple downhill plunges with the confidence that I can pull it together and get back up and out. And on the fitness side I'm rushing up in middle gears slopes that I was grinding up in 1st gear when I started.

I'm back on track.

Then it's crunch time, the "Devil's Staircase," an uphill bike-carry section through a series of ankle-biting bogs.

I didn't do very much in January - the odd trip out on my own, and Brains kept me moving getting me out to red rocks and up the tip track. Brains is extremely easy going, always ready with a casual smile and happy to oblige. Just the chap to ride with if you're feeling a bit nervy.

Then Scott suggested a trip around Karapoti on Sunday and it was time to get serious again. Scott drove us out and he, Brains and I started the track around 10am. Up the gorge was lovely going - pleasant wide track, just swooshed along, an easy river crossing. Then we stopped where the track splits into the Karapoti loop and the other guys warned me we were about to try the warmup hill.

It was brutally unrideable. Just too hard. Very steep, with diagonal ruts cutting across the 4WD road. Near the bottom of the first hill and I was walking already. Then when I finally caught up with Brains waiting at the top I found we weren't even up the first hill yet. Worst was the descent to a stream-crossing - I managed most of it but lost my nerve and walked the bottom part.

I was gutted. I was doing as well as Scott up the hills - but had hoped to do far better and Brains had just ridden off uphill ahead faster than I could go. And I'd lost my nerve at the first serious downhilll.

But you can't stop once you've started. The guys assured me that it was all fine, and I smiled and quietly decided that there was absolutely no way in hell that I was going to make them wait for me all the way around the course.

After that it improved immensely. The first uphill is three uphills with descents between - it was the first that I'd had problems with. The next one I just took on. Brains could be in front of me - that was fine. But I pushed it hard. And then just kept going. I was off my bike pushing more than I wanted - but I was back on whenever I could. When we stopped to eat and rest at the top I felt much better. Then it was ups and downs for a bit - and my drinks bottle leapt off my bike to freedom over a cliff. Oddly that cheered me up - a bit of humour to add to my day.

After some fun and fast - and not too challenging - downhills I was the first to reach the pleasant clearing at the top of the infamous Rock Garden, where we stopped for more drinks and food.

The Rock Garden is a dry stream-bed full of rocks, mostly the size of your fist but some the size of your head, or your chair, or your table. Sometimes the bedrock comes through and it's more like a dry series of small waterfalls than dry rapids. None of us could ride it after the top, we all stopped at a sensible time and walked/jumped (some of those drop-offs are quite hard to get a bike down on foot - god only knows how they ride them). But towards the bottom I was the first one to get back on and ride - something I found oddly cheering.

Starting up the even-more-infamous Devil's Staircase was merely very steep - a river crossing followed up a nasty uphill. Then we met the absurdly steep: clay track the width of a car going uphill at a 1 in 3 incline, with ruts three feet deep and two feet wide meandering back and forth across it. You had to carry your bike because the ruts were too gnarly to push it, and the footing was bad. Half-way up I found my technique - I could hook my bike seat into my camelbak and take the bike's weight on my shoulder harness, while holding the front of the frame in my right hand. And I trudged.

The staircase gives way to level spots occupied by puddles. Puddles the size of my bedroom, occupying the whole track. I tried riding through one - when I stuck I was a couple of inches short of knee-deep. We staggered around the edges of the others. Then the staircase turns into uphills and boggy bits and more uphills that edge on ridable and - around here I realised that I wasn't being left behind. That was good.

Over the top and on to the big downhills. I chased Brains and Scott for a while, then took the lead and really took off. Glorious fun! Scott thought I was quite mad to be going at that speed at my skill-level. But no, I had my groove back and I was riding it. Yeehaa! Ended, alas, by a puncture.

I had committed a piece of folly (and a biking foux pais) by not bringing a spare inner tube. Brains gave me his spare. Scott was the only one of us three who'd brought a bike pump, and we'd discovered when he had a puncture earlier that it was missing a vital piece care of his kids messing with it. We'd flagged down another cyclist then, but lacked such a person now. So he and Brains made the pump work with the help of a spare nut and brute force, and I patched my inner tube so we had a spare if we needed one later. Then down through Doper's Creek and up the last hill.

Just after the start of Doper's hill my shoelace caught in my gears. Urk - stop. I disentangled the mess of funny unbreakable inner cords and flappy elastic, retied the worlds messiest knot to get it all tucked in safely. And began my pursuit. Catching Scott was hard. I passed him walking, but then swapped riding and walking until I caught up with Brains as well. The hill is a series of steep ramps and less steep parts - I practiced the switch from walking to riding, worked on moving smoothly from one to another. Then I passed Brains towards the top and he followed close behind me to the summit - helpfully signposted with "TOP" graffitied onto the rock-face in glowing pink spraypaint.

A brief wait for Scott, a rest, a drink, some chocolate. I was feeling good - feeling like I'd triumphed. All downhill from here! Little was I to know that the hardest was yet to come.

It's 12km from that summit down to the carpark. It's downhill - gloriously downhill, wide 4WD tracks, fast but not too steep. On a fully suspended bike you can just sit down and go for most of it. But I don't ride a fully suspended bike. I ride a cheaper hard-tail, front suspension only. And the track is bumpy enough that I can't sit - I need to stand, using my legs as suspension. This is where the aches set in and the guys left me behind - the easy fast ride at the end. Ah well - they knew the track better than me, and they didn't leave me far behind.

It was glorious. I had a great day, felt I'd recovered my nerve, pushed my body to its limits, and really enjoyed an outing with Scott and Brains.