Damiens

An Omen of trails to come - Damien’s

How one guy built a trail so gnarly, even the ‘90s said “whoa”

Gather ‘round, groms, old men, trail rats, and let us tell you a tale, the tale of Damien’s. Mt Vic’s OG pirate trail. Built back when disc brakes were witchcraft and suspension was a suggestion.

Picture this: It's the mid-‘90s. Mount Vic is mostly hiking tracks. Roots everywhere. Water flows freely. Lycra is king.

A few brave (or foolish) souls are out there, riding the gnar anyway. One young Rodrick Bardsley (aka the 2025, Rod Father), rocking one of the only full-suspension rigs in the capital. While others were rattling their molars loose on fully rigid, centre pulls, Rod was dropping into rooty chaos with a grin and questionable braking decisions.

The default move? Rail down the Southern Walkway, scatter walkers like skittles, then vanish down random goat tracks. “Trail etiquette” was a future concept.

Then, out of nowhere, a new line appears…

Enter Damian (the human, not the trail)

One day, a mysterious thread of loam appears in the undergrowth. Tight. Techy. Totally off-piste. No one really knew where it came from. Turns out, Damian MacArthur, a proud Piopio boy and downhill racer had moved to Wellington. He did what any passionate rider with a shovel and no permit would dob. Build a Grade 5 death chute straight down the hill.

No announcement. No warning. Just vibes.

The OG Pirate Line

Damian’s started just before the big table on Hippies. Blink and you’d miss the beginning … by the hole in the bush. Back then, there wasn’t even a track there. Just scrub, blackberries, and the faint sound of riders questioning their life choices.

This was no polished flow trail. It was raw. Tight. Slippery when dry. Sketchy when wet. It was so gnarly, just saying “Wanna ride Damian’s?” got you looks. Not all of them encouraging.

And yet, people kept coming back.

Official, ish

Eventually, the secret got out, and somehow Damian’s went legit(ish). But when it was added to the official maps, someone fluffed the spelling - “Damien” with an E, not an A. To this day, Wellington hospital still houses a ward full of OCD perfectionists, triggered by that one typo. One day we’ll fix it. Maybe.

Cinema

In 1976, the movie Omen was released. Plenty of people were emotionally scarred by the main character, Damien. That was in the days before therapy could make it better. 20 years later, the name Damien still held that #1 position in the primordial spot in the brain. The spot reserved for absolute terror. Perhaps that’s why the naming officials stumbled. Maybe.

There’s been almost no changes to the original line. Not something everyone can say, 30 years down the track. It’s still the OG Damian cut, save for a spicy chicane added a few years back thanks to a rare complaint from a walker (Hi, Ellen). A subtle nudge to keep the peace, installed by Rod and Ben W under diplomatic pressure.

da human

As for the man himself? Damian bailed to France in the early 2000s, became a chalet-running chef in Morzine, cooks for World Cup race teams, and occasionally works on riverboats (because of course he does). He hikes more than he rides now, but his legacy lives on. Carved into Mt Vic’s undergrowth, dodging roots and skipping past the ghosts of ‘90s hardtails.

So next time you drop into Damien’s, raise a mental beer to the wild spirit of unsanctioned trail building. To the reckless joy of off-camber roots, and the bloke who built a legend with nothing but a spade and the confidence of youth.

And remember: It’s Damien with an A. Not an E. Get it right or get off.

‍therodfather