The Big Loop: yes, I'd go again, but with these changes
A decade ago, I was cycling around the coast of New Zealand without a care in the world.
Ten years ago I was on something of an awakening mission. My zany idea, as some would put it, was to cycle round the coast of New Zealand. Not simply a ride around all the coastal highways and cycle routes, but actually pedalling a full lap of the two big islands, riding on the beaches as much as possible. It’s the adventure that gave rose to my first book, The Big Loop.
On the 2nd of January 2015, I rolled out of Auckland’s Mission Bay and headed for the Coromandel and beyond. It was peak summer and, as I gradually powered my laden bike south, I visited and camped in some of the finest places I’ve ever seen. Life became Life Lite™, stripped of all the modern day complications, the day job was simple: get to the next place.
For eight months, I lived on the road - and the beaches and tracks - carrying everything I needed and more on that poor bicycle. It was the freest existence I have ever experienced. A sensation so addictive not a day passes where I don’t long to feel that freedom again.
I sometimes talk of going round again. Seeing the changes in some of those places I haven’t seen in ten years would make a heck of a journey. The ocean will have ravaged some, resculpting them beyond recognition; earthquake rebuilds and other disaster renovations will have remoulded others. Knowing the geography the way I do now would open up a basket of new and cool locations to camp and alter my route significantly.
There’s also a bunch of other things I would do differently to make this a slicker, more frictionless affair. Maybe these will come to help you when planning your own self-powered adventure or cycle tour. Let me know in the comments if you have any more.
1. I would lighten the gear load
Back then, my knowledge of ultralight gear was next-to-nothing. I prepped for it believing my budget was tight, so I just took what I already owned: one humongous three-person tent, a two-person Trangia and a metal water bottle I got free from work; my sleeping bag was light enough, but I didn’t compress it in a drybag, so it took up more room than it had to; I loaded my panniers with paneer curries, of the non-dehydrated variety; and I carried a full-size iPad 2 in my small backpack! I did, however, live with a tiny microfibre towel for eight months, plus a half-length sleeping mat in 0 degrees Central Otago isn’t much fun.
Going again, I’d take a 700g solo tent, 80g backpacking stove, collapsible drinks bottle and live off my purpose-serving TVP and couscous dehydro meals.
2. I would bikepack all the way
I rode round the coast using the more traditional panniers and racks: a metal frame on the back of the bike, with a couple of bags clipped to the sides. Bikepacking - which uses a variety of bags, each clipped to the bike’s frame, handlebars, forks and saddle - was just coming along and I hadn’t really seen it.
The advantages of a bikepacking set-up include better weight-distribution across the bike, which improves handling, especially off-road. Since you don’t have two massive bags sticking out the side, the temptation to bring everything and the kitchen sink is numbed.

Instead, I had to gently tease my wide bike through those metal posts designed to stop vehicles, occasionally clip fences and trees with my luggage and I got held up in Dunedin, after a bolt head holding the bag frame to the bike sheared off. All things that wouldn’t have happened with my gear clipped neatly out of the way.
3. I would run fatter tyres
Parts of Hawke’s Bay, mid-Canterbury and the West Coast have pebbly beaches that I really want to ride. On my mk.1 journey, I reached some of these and had to turn inland and ride a bunch of annoying roads, sometimes 3-4 times the distance. While the Serfas Drifter tyre I was running was slick on the tar seal, gripped like glue on the chip seal and was more than capable on gravel, they were just too thin for pebbles.

Enter: fat bike! Any second trip would be about drawing a more perfect picture of the country than last time, so I’d like to ride straight down those beaches on a Monster Truck bike, please!
4. I would wild camp more
As a novice, who’d been subjected years of news stories featuring angry people complaining about freedom campers leaving crap in the bushes, I often steered clear of free camping.
There was that time a Dunedin City cycle trail map led me up the side of the cliffs just before dark, so I had to spend the night there; there was also that time I cowboy camped on Kairakau Beach, only to be woken up by rain in the middle of the night; and there was that time I got turned away by the YMCA and found myself with no choice but to chuck my tent up behind a bush on the western shores of Akaroa Harbour. I can still visualise the council car crawling past me at ant’s pace the next morning, as I sat all packed up and enjoying breakfast on a picnic bench!

My more recent packraft journey had me sleeping in some far wilder spots, on beaches, by rivers and deep in forests. I know how to leave no trace and I love it. Let’s go…
5. I would set off earlier every day
In Masterton one morning, I witnessed a couple of touring cyclists frantically packing up. Beads of sweat dribbled down their stressed-looking faces as they rolled their tent up as if we were 30 seconds from a bomb exploding on the camp. It was 7am.
“That doesn’t look very fun,” I laughed to myself. I probably then trotted off to the kitchen, made myself a coffee and sat and made notes for my book, while eating “breakfast number 1”. Following packdown and “breakfast number 2”, around 10am, I most likely rolled out of camp and began the day’s cycling.
Far from becoming a military cycling operation, departing just a couple of hours earlier would be sensible. Come winter, I could have arrived in daylight, had more time to enjoy the places I passed through and had a bit more evening to write book notes, too. It’s just a pity I adore lazing about with a cup of coffee in the morning!
Can't believe it's been ten years already
amazing!