Blood Sweat and Gears: Rotorua, New Zealand

If I wasn't driving on the left side of the road, I would think I was back in the U.S. My local hosts, with bat-like hearing, are already outside greeting me with that inimitable Kiwi hospitality before I can even leave the vehicle. Once unpacked and settled in, I'm informed of an extra mountain bike that's free to use. It would be rude to say no, and moments later I'm pedaling away from my adoptive home towards the Whakarewarewa Forest. Most call it just "The Redwoods," because let's face it, that name is a mouth full.

In about five minutes I'm on a trail that takes me away from the cookie-cutter neighborhood and into dense overgrowth. Above me, light filters through a canopy of ferns that tints everything in a green hue. Even though civilization is at an arm's reach, I only hear the sounds of a jungle that's full of life.

My solitude ends when I leave this connective artery and get to the heart of the trail network. Giggling school children excitedly pedal past me and other groups of adults embarking on their daily evening ride. In the parking lot, there are vans, trailers, and trucks proudly displaying bikes new and old.

Just a quick drive from the Redwoods is Rainbow Mountain, the perfect place to soak in the sunrise over Rotorua. Katie Lozancich Photo.

The opening ceremony for Crankworx Rotorua is in a few hours, so I can't stay long. A quick gravel grind up the climbing trail brings me to a trail named Tokorangi. Coming from a place like Jackson that sits at 6,300ft, I was curious how the local trail builders would make up for the lack of vertical relief. Their solution is singletrack that strategically weaves down the mountain. Simply checking Trailforks to confirm my location is a tricky endeavor because the Redwoods trail network from the app looks like a tangled mess of spaghetti.

While we like to obsess about loam in the States, New Zealand proudly one-ups us with dirt gold. Comprised of ash, clay, and pumice from the geological forces that shaped the land, the soil in Rotorua miraculously drains water almost instantly, allowing for year-round riding. But dirt is only one piece of a world-class destination. It's what you do with the dirt that matters. Here in Rotorua, the Whakarewarewa Forest not only hosts a network of over 110 miles of trails but a community that thrives off of it. 

This sprawling network was brought to life in 1993 by Fredrick Christensen. On his first visit to the area, the avid dirt biker saw the potential in the soil's composition. He was so driven by his vision that when he returned back to Auckland he instantly started planning a permanent move. When he and his wife returned for good, he got to work creating one of the oldest bike networks in New Zealand. To build the trails he connected with the department of justice, who provided the necessary labor through the correctional department. Minor criminals were utilized for the trail building efforts as a form of restorative justice. Leading the trail building efforts was Red Mchale, the local community service supervisor and another godfather of the Redwoods. Mchale wasn't even a biker when he first started supervising trail building. Now well into his 70's, he still relishes in the ability to build in the forest, with the biggest reward seeing how it impacts the community.

Geological activity is evident all over Rotorua. You may even find a hot spring as we did on our ride at Rainbow Mountain. Katie Lozancich Photo.

In 2000, Christensen retired from working on the trails. His presence will live on, and in honor of the strong foundation he put in place, locals lovingly named part of the forest "the Fredwoods.". While Christensen is humbled by the recognition, the most rewarding aspect of his work is hearing the space come alive through its many users. The Redwoods are alive and well thanks to their hard work.

Bells are chiming. It's an alarm signaling to start heading back home. With heavy reluctance, I navigate back towards the main road and gleefully weave through ferns that look straight from Jurassic Park. But spirits are high simply thinking about what's in my new backyard.

Not wanting to infringe on my host's hospitality, I head to Mountain Bike Rotorua the following afternoon to snag a rental (though Kiwi's are so kind and generous I doubt they'd actually mind) The GPS directs me to another access point for the Whakarewarewa Forest.

I was expecting to pull up to your stereotypical bike shop. You know, something that feels homely and has a cute shop dog that will beg you for a belly rub. Instead, it's a small basecamp right at the entrance of the forest. There's a whole demo fleet of bikes with mechanics nearby busy wrenching away. Next to the demo area is a storage container that's been fully transformed into a bustling coffee shop. Its two baristas are whipping up flat whites for a group of riders who just left the Whakarewarewa Forest and need a caffeine pick-me-up. When they get their beverages and snacks, the riders congregate over to a shaded seating area where families, pros like Ed Masters, and tourists are mingling like animals at a watering hole.

Left: Mountain Bike Rotorua is the perfect launching point for your adventure in the Whakarewarewa Forest. Right: Shop Manager Ben Wurcker can't praise the area's riding enough. Katie Lozancich Photo.

Mountain Bike Rotorua wasn't always like this. The shop started humbly in 2011 with a mere 20 rental bikes. Things were pretty barebones, the parking lot wasn't even paved. Now they've got 150 bikes, a shop in town and at Skyline Bike Park, shop manager Ben Wurcker explains to me. "Each year gets busier," he says. As Crankworx grows in popularity, so does riding in the forest. "It's interesting because we've had people visit, who have been to the other Crankworx stops, and they only ride at Skyline. They leave without even visiting the forest and not understanding what makes Rotorua so special." What he's describing sounds like a crime. The Whakarewarewa Forest may not have the vertical relief of a Whistler Bike Park per se, but it's packed with a series of hills. There are seven different riding zones in the forest, and with such variety, your ride can easily range from an hour-long out-and-back to an all-day adventure.

While at home we often are tied up in red tape when it comes to building trails on public lands, Rotoruans don't have to deal with this headache. In fact, the forest isn't owned by the government or logging companies, it's owned by the local Maori. The local tribes lease the land under a strict stipulation: the forest must remain free to the general public for recreation. "It's very much seen by its owners as something that's good for the community," Wurcker emphasizes. As a result, this cluster of bike-park-worthy trails is accessible without having to pay a single cent. Sure, there are no high-speed lifts to whisk you up to the top, but if you really don't want to pedal, a shuttle leaves straight from Mountain Bike Rotorua for a small fee. It's one of the best ways to meet new riding buds in the forest. "If you jump on the shuttle bus and it's obvious you're not from Rotorua, you'll get four people asking you to ride with them," Wurcker jokes because he's seen it firsthand. There's one particular instance that makes him smile. A German man was visiting by himself and decided to hop on a shuttle. A few locals—Wurcker's pals—scooped him and took him riding every day during his visit. That experience left such an impression on him that he comes back to visit at least twice a year.

The local Maori performing a traditional welcome for the start of Crankworx. It's thanks to the local tribe's generosity that the land is accessible for recreational purposes. Katie Lozancich Photo.

"I honestly think it's some of the best riding I've ever done compared to other places in the world," Wurcker emphasizes. The riding left such an impression on him and his wife that they dropped everything to move from Australia and live here full time. "I don't think I've ever made such a completely unplanned and unprepared for decision in my life—but it worked out real well in the end," he laughs.

I feel like I've heard the admiration Wurcker has for the forest before. My local Airbnb host Jeff Anderson, who also builds custom bike frames, echoes those sentiments. When I asked him where else in the world he has ridden his answer is blunt. "Not many other places, and that's fine with me. Why would I want to leave when I have everything I need right here," he jokes.

Wurcker and Anderson aren't alone in their appreciation for the Redwoods, in 2015 the International Mountain Biking Association established Rotorua as a Gold Level Riding Center—making it one of six in the world. Shortly after, the Crankworx World Tour added the town as part of their multi-stop tour, catapulting the area onto the world stage. Local parents also can feel at ease when their kids are out riding without parental supervision. In 2016, Barbara Jenks of the Rotorua Mountain Bike Club established a first response unit for the Redwoods. This specialized unit is equipped with all-terrain vehicles to respond swiftly to any riding-related incidents. Some days they respond to multiple incidents in an afternoon, and their presence helps ensure that everyone makes it home at the end of the day.

Thomas Genon hits the Maxxis Slopestyle in Memory of McGazza at Skyline. Bolstered by the local community, the Crankworx stop here has grown exponentially over the years. Katie Lozancich Photo.

One of the most unique aspects of the Whakarewarewa Forest is that the trails are constantly evolving. The local economy is partially driven by logging, and the Redwoods is considered a working forest. This kind of collaboration is nothing new, in fact, many timber communities in the U.S. have turned to outdoor recreation to fill gaps in their economy. In Bellingham, Washington the Whatcom Mountain Bike Coalition (WMBC) has worked tirelessly to build and maintain bike trails on Galbraith Mountain, also a working forest. Thanks to agreements set in place from the WMBC, both industries can flourish together—especially during timber harvests.

For Rotorua, this collaboration means that when large swaths of the forest continually being logged, the trails are equally as fluid. When an area of the forest is logged that means the trails go with it. But endings only mean beginnings for the riders. When a zone is lost to logging, trail builders are often given a new parcel to play with. In many instances, Wurcker explains, the death of one trail means the birth of more. "It means the riding is constantly changing, things never get stale out here," he says. It's accessible for everyone, he adds, "You can come here with your three-year-old kid or you can be an EWS racer and find something to challenge you."

As he's telling me this, a family is just wrapping their ride from the forest. The youngest is riding on a mini saddle attached to the dad's top tube and has the biggest grin on his little face. Behind them are mom and the other two kids who are happily following like obedient little ducklings. They're passed by two twenty-year-olds who are starting their ride for the day.

The next time I head back to the Whakarewarewa Forest I'm bikeless. Instead, I'm suited up with camera gear to cover Crankworx's main event for the night: Dual Slalom. There's no need to check the map to find the venue. Leaving my adoptive kiwi home, I spy a father and son walking their bikes towards the forest. When we round the corner we're joined by numerous families carrying lawn chairs and giant signs. The event doesn't start for another hour, but the strategic move is clearly to get here early. Dual Slalom is unique in comparison to other Rotorua Crankworx events. It's the only race actually hosted right in the forest because everything else is at the nearby Skyline Gravity Park. As a result, the community comes out in full force. They fill out around the small race track and leave little room for late comers—hence the reason to show up early.

The race commences as the sun inches closer to the horizon, sending warm evening light through the dense canopy from above. I don't need to look up from my viewfinder to know that a Kiwi is on course. The crowd's cheers are unapologetically biased. When local Rotoruan Keegan Wright is up, the volume is turned up even a notch higher. Wright, an EWS racer and Crankworx jack-of-all-trades, has called this neck of the woods home since childhood. Fueled by the home-field advantage, Wright confidently moves through the elimination rounds inching ever closer to the championship round.

An energetic crowd watches Kiwi Shania Rawson navigate the gates in Dual Slalom. Katie Lozancich Photo.

"It's crazy how big mountain biking is getting in Rotorua. When you go down to the bike car park on the other side of the forest it's full of cars on the weekend," he explained to me the day before. We were catching up at a picnic situated on the outskirts of the forest and occasionally our interview would be interrupted by friends on their way to ride. He doesn't fully credit Crankworx for Rotorua's mountain biking renaissance, saying it's only one piece of the puzzle. For him, it comes down to the lifeblood of the area: its network of trails. "The guys at the Rotorua Trails Trust know how to build trails and really use what they have to work with," he says, referencing the lack vertical relief. The trails descend only about 1100 feet. It might not be the same elevation loss as other world class biking destinations, but the trail builders are crafty in these parts. "We've got good tracks that everyone can ride. Not just easy ones for the kids, but there's something for any skill level—even the pros."

If anything, Crankworx has helped take Rotorua to the next level. The economy is a testament to this growth. The New Zealand Herald reported that the past four Crankworx festivals generated $18.4 million for the local economy. Buses used to arrive with loads of tourists looking to soak in the famed mineral pools or tour the area's many geysers. Now there's a new crop of visitors wanting to explore the area by bike. It's a change that hasn't gone unnoticed throughout the community. To echo this, I think back to the Crankworx opening reception. We were honored by a traditional Maori welcome followed by a greeting from Rotorua's mayor Steve Chadwick who made one notion especially clear: mountain biking is a core part of Rotorua's identity.

Keegan Wright walks away with the gold. The only thing better than winning is winning on home turf. Katie Lozancich Photo.

The Dual Slalom has whittled the racers down to the final heats. On the women's side, it was down to Vaea Verbeeck and Anneke Beerten. For the men's, Wright has survived each round of elimination to be pitted against Bas Van Steenbergen for the championship round. Round one of two Steenbergen won with a .26 second advantage. The drop of the gates creates pandemonium in the crowd. It's looking neck and neck between the two racers until the expected happens. Steenbergen jackknifes his bike as he tries to maneuver the gates. The error sends him headfirst into the dirt and it instantly decides the race: Wright takes home the gold. 

He wins it not just for himself, but for the roaring crowd surrounding him.