It has been almost half a year since Katie and I returned from our New Zealand honeymoon and in remembrance celebration I am posting the last piece of our four part adventure. After the painfully long flight into Auckland we met an old friend for a tour of the city. The next morning, still confounded from the flight over, we headed to Ahipara for a week of surfing. Returning to Auckland, we took our time to casual tour the city and the harbour. While we certainly enjoyed exploring a new city and learning a new sport, our excitement for the trip was highest heading into Rotorua to try our hand at mountain biking.
Katie had asked if we could stay on a farm while we were in New Zealand; uncertain with the low quality of websites advertising a farmstay I opted for the one with pictures of massive brown trout, the bed and breakfast at Hoskings Farm just outside of Ngongotaha. I cannot say that all B&B’s near Rotorua are run by one of the uniquely pleasant and heppy ladies I have ever met, have a beautiful house surrounded by meticulously kept gardens, and fields of curious cattle and sheep; the 120 acres at Hoskings Farm certainly did. Oh, and I forgot to mention the really big trout. Really big.
Our host, Trish Hoskings, was a vibrant lady who dotted over her gardens and her guests. Always full of suggestions and eager to offer food from her garden, Trish made our stay truly delightful. Trish introduced us to her massive country garden, and assortment of chickens, lambs, and cattle; her pride in the land was evident. On our first tour of the grounds we met the amusing young cattle as they would follow us to the gates between fields, hoping to get a free trip to the fresh grasses. We amassed some impressive views, though the pool of massive trout under the bridge was edged out by the epic sunsets.

Rotorua Mountain Biking
As difficult as it was, we left the farm and ventured into Rotorua to hire (that means rent in “American”) mountain bikes for three days. At Bike Vegas ran into a shop guy from Eugene, OR and scored a pair of modified Haro Mary XC 29ers; the front derailleur was removed, leaving us with the middle ring. The shop guy assured us we would not need any more gears for redwood forest where we would be riding; he proved correct. We loaded the bikes and headed over to the Whakarewarewa Forest trails with a quick visit to the New Zealand of Walmart to buy some cheap shoes. And no, I have no idea how you pronounce Whakarewarewa…
The locals claimed the Whakarewarewa Forest has some of the best riding in New Zealand; having nothing to compare and with our epic experience, I cannot doubt the claim. The forest contains more than 70 km of trails interconnected by fire roads (that means even more available riding distance beyond the 43.5 miles of trails). The trails were primarily flowy single track through densely treed woods; better yet they were all one way so you never had to hold back in fear of a crash. Maps were scattered through the area, the trails were well marked off the fire road, and a smattering of water stations were available. The was not major amounts of climbing (at least compared to our Colorado trails), but if you wish to get in more riding with less fire road climbing you can take a shuttle.
While we did ride during the week, we very rarely met into other riders on the trails. Those we did meet, primarily Australians whom were quite pleased that nothing in the forest was going to kill them, all exposed the same excitement as was on our faces. The trails were phenomenal and I hope to have a chance to return and properly chronicle all of them; our last ride took us down Split Enz, continuing on the Pondy trails, and finishing on Old Chevy. The fire road climb was long and we passed a few groups of Australians before finally reaching the trailhead for Split Enz. The trail is tightly built with fast flowy curves swooping through huge trees. As difficult as it was to stop, it was well worth it to see the gorgeous views. Upon being dumped out to the Pondy system we had some slower, gentler grades of curves with moments of downhill speed. We came out on Old Chevy, an up and down trail with more fast curves. All combined, these trails were the single favorite ride of my life.

Fly Fishing a Spring Creek Near Rotorua
On a ski trip in the Colorado mountains shortly before we left for New Zealand I fell ill and spent a day perusing the fly shops in Summit county. At the time, the only travel fly rod I possessed was a Fenwick 5 piece 5-weight that my father had built in the 1970s; I needed a better rod. I picked up a fast action Sage FLi in an 8′6″ 4 piece 5-weight with a Sage 1850 reel for $200 on clearance. Like most fast action rods the FLi can really punch out a lot of line, however I was more interested in the backbone to handle large New Zealand browns.
The country is fiercely proud of their fisheries and go to great lengths to protect them by restricting what gear you can bring into the country – I took the rod, reel, hemostats, leaders, and tippet material figuring I could buy everything else in-country. I picked up about two dozen flies, some floatant, and some split shot before heading into the water. From the top of the steep banks I spied a plethora of browns and rainbows, ranging in sizes from around 12 inches to the largest trout I have ever seen in my life. Along with the impressive size, I have never encountered such a concentration of large fish – it felt like walking along a fish hatchery. The New Zealand trout however were a lot smarter than their counterparts raised in American hatcheries. My first challenge was hot to approach the fish; with the high banks I could not easily drop in behind them and spooked quite a few trout in my attempts to do so. Eventually I made my way in and started working upstream. Notice I have mentioned nothing about waders; I had none. The spring creek was cold. Very. Cold. Of course after a few minutes my feet and legs had gone completely numb so it no longer mattered.
The first day I spotted a few feeding fish but was unable to get them to take. The next day, after a brief consultation with the fly shop, I purchased some 7x tippet and headed back into the water. With the smaller tippet I was able to coax a mid-sized rainbow into taking a midge on the surface. Unfortunately I discovered another flaw in my system – I had no net and the steep banks offered nothing to work the fish onto shore. After a solid fight, the rainbow broke off as I unsuccessfully attempted to land him. I continued the trend with a few other small fish, breaking them all off before I can land them. Then it happened; I hooked a massive brown easily approaching 30 inches. The fish pulled me up and down the stream for well near 10 minutes before beginning to slow. The first time I got her close enough to touch the fish took off for another minute of sheer running; the second time I started to get my hand under her when she sprinted again and broke the line. I will definitely need to return for a rematch.
So what about the town and food? On our way into town we stopped for a bite of lunch – we ended up at a quaint, garden covered café. The food matched the gardens in quality – fantastic! In Rotorua each day we would eat a late lunch and pick up some bread and brie (with Trish’s garden vegetables) for evening snacking. Given my love for lamb chops, I was amazed that it was the end of the trip before I finally had a rack of lamb. With the outdoor activities, food was an afterthought though everyone we spoke to in town raved about the culinary options. The town itself was very attractive – it was definitely a touristy/outdoorsy town but with the friendly New Zealand atmosphere. Hot springs were on the edge of town and afforded a pleasantly casual stroll. The lake bordering Rotorua was gorgeous but apparently the black swans are killers… We heard that there were tons of outdoorsy activities to do but limited by our time and endurance, we stuck with mountain biking and fly fishing.
Unfortunately our trip had to end and after two weeks in country we began our journey home. On our way back to Auckland we stopped in the minuscule town of Tirua; they have the quintessential tourist trap in form of a massive corrugated metal sheep. We initially pulled over for the i-SITE visitors center but wondered into the Big Sheep Wool Gallery. One of my goals for the trip had been to acquire a new fly fishing hat, while I had successfully found a suit and a cycling jersey it appeared no hat was to be had. But then I was saved by the metal sheep! I found a great and airy Selke hat, just what I was looking for; Katie acquired a warm lumberjacks hat. With our heads covered, we boarded another Air New Zealand flight for home (and failed attempts by three different flight attendants to get my entertainment system to work).
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