A 1980s extreme trail exploration with an unusual find.
Our great riding buddy the late Chris Howit taking a breather on the way.
New Zealand's bush backcountry hides many historic secrets. The Coromandel Ranges are a typical typical example. All through these rugged mountains traces of our pioneer past can be found in old gold mining and timber milling sites and of course the tracks that gave access to them.
Many of these tracks and workings are not well known or often visited, even by trampers. Some of these sites are very remote and the tracks leading to them while they once allowed mule or even dray access a century ago are now so overgrown as to barely even look like walking tracks. These tracks are not suitable to ride on normal trail or enduro bikes for two reasons; firstly the riding is so diffilcult it just isn't fun, even for highly experienced riders, and secondly enduro bikes and knobbly tyres would do an unacceptable amount of damage to the tracks. At under 70kg the Trials bike is a eco-friendly way to travel in the bush as their ultra low pressure 'sticky' tubeless tyres leave barely a mark on the surface of the ground.
Back in the late eighties we were exploring a far corner of the Coromandel Ranges when we came across an old pack track. So overgrown was the track that it took many days and several kilometres of clearing windfalls and vines to eventually lead to the discovery of one of the reasons for the track's existence. A mine shaft had been cut smack in the middle of the ridge, going vertically down into the rock. The shaft was part-hidden by overgrowth and gave us a bit of a fright as it plunged down further than we could see into blackness beyond a rotted old cover that had collapsed part-way into the shaft. We called it the 'Lost Mine' as we have been unable to find any specific information about the workings so don't know if the miners struck payable gold.
Over 20 years later we visited the area again and attempted followed the track. No surprise, the track to the Lost Mine was even more overgrown than it had been in the 1980s and after struggling a few hundred metres we decided to turn back. Like many historic routes the bush was quietly obliterating the frail work that men had accomplished.
Many of these tracks and workings are not well known or often visited, even by trampers. Some of these sites are very remote and the tracks leading to them while they once allowed mule or even dray access a century ago are now so overgrown as to barely even look like walking tracks. These tracks are not suitable to ride on normal trail or enduro bikes for two reasons; firstly the riding is so diffilcult it just isn't fun, even for highly experienced riders, and secondly enduro bikes and knobbly tyres would do an unacceptable amount of damage to the tracks. At under 70kg the Trials bike is a eco-friendly way to travel in the bush as their ultra low pressure 'sticky' tubeless tyres leave barely a mark on the surface of the ground.
Back in the late eighties we were exploring a far corner of the Coromandel Ranges when we came across an old pack track. So overgrown was the track that it took many days and several kilometres of clearing windfalls and vines to eventually lead to the discovery of one of the reasons for the track's existence. A mine shaft had been cut smack in the middle of the ridge, going vertically down into the rock. The shaft was part-hidden by overgrowth and gave us a bit of a fright as it plunged down further than we could see into blackness beyond a rotted old cover that had collapsed part-way into the shaft. We called it the 'Lost Mine' as we have been unable to find any specific information about the workings so don't know if the miners struck payable gold.
Over 20 years later we visited the area again and attempted followed the track. No surprise, the track to the Lost Mine was even more overgrown than it had been in the 1980s and after struggling a few hundred metres we decided to turn back. Like many historic routes the bush was quietly obliterating the frail work that men had accomplished.
