Gremlin's Tall Stories

Once again, I was tasked with the burden of work requiring me to be in Wellington for the Friday, to complete some new computer installs and some other items. With the staff in Auckland for the company function I would be left to my devices (and make sure it was all functional for their return on the Monday morning).

The boss was prepared to fly me down to Wellington and back on the day, but it would mean a long day… and oh wait… no riding. He knew I would prefer to ride (is there ever another option?) so I could use up to that amount and anything over was my expense.

Thursday dawns, I deal with some work in the morning and I’m on the road about 1pm bound for Wellington. On the Wednesday I’d had some Heidenau K76 tyres put on the GSA, after RideLife had suggested them, and I was open to trying them out, as they were more dual purpose than the PR3’s I was using – and you’ll see in subsequent blogs why I had to change them.

40km south of Auckland, I’ve just exited onto SH2 and settling into the ride, when a flashing red light on the dash has me alarmed. A second careful look reveals the bike’s tyre pressure monitoring believes the front tyre is at 24PSI, hence the alert. The BMW system will give me temperature adjusted real time read outs of the pressures, and if it drops too quickly or too low it will alert you with the warning light and switch your display to the problem.

My cause for alarm was that I’d just checked the pressures in the morning, and they were as required, 36 front and 40 rear, cold. My first thought was that the damn system was wrong, but thought it best to stop and check. I pulled into the lumber yard that was conveniently metres up the road, and with the first feel of the tyre, it felt fine. Still in doubt I pulled out the pressure gauge, and sure enough, 24PSI. Annoyed, I pulled out my air compressor and pumped the tyre up to 39PSI (to account for temperature).

The temperature was in the low 20s and I was boiling from staying in the gear, so was grateful to get back on the road, but I now kept an extremely close eye on the pressures. They remained rock steady for another 40km, but approaching Patetonga I was just finishing passing a truck when glancing down I see the front pressure plummeting, already at 26PSI. By the time I slow down in the middle of Patetonga the pressure is at 20PSI.

I’m not amused, something is clearly wrong and I can’t continue on a trip to Wellington like this. Time is against me however, but I decide to ring Botany Honda and let them know I’m roughly an hour away and have issues. I start to hear them say look for the hole but the call breaks up. I mutter to myself “I wish it were that simple”. I have all the puncture repair gear, but when it holds for 35-40km then drops within a minute it ain’t a puncture. I message my boss to let him know things aren’t going according to plan.

I inflate the tyre again and head back to Auckland. Again, it holds pressure for 20km without dropping a single PSI, then passing a truck and cars I’m doing 150kph shouting at myself “Oh look, NOW it doesn’t lose any pressure”. I shouldn’t have said that. I’ve barely finished passing the truck and the air is once again escaping the front tyre at a rapid pace. I’ve got a truck behind me, no immediate safe place to pull over so I continue thinking it will stabilise around 20PSI allowing me to find somewhere to stop.

Unfortunately, this isn’t the case and I barely make the driveway in the distance, coming to a stop on the edge of it with 1PSI. Needless to say, controlling a 1200GSA, laden with gear with no air in the front tyre isn’t something I wish to repeat any time soon. Now I realise I’m just about risking my life and feeling rather furious. It takes a while to inflate the flat tyre, but is again holding pressure. I’m now certain it’s somehow load or speed related, so do my best to maintain 100kph, not exceeding it for more than a moment, and get all the way to East Tamaki some 60km away without a repeat of the issues.

The mechanics are good as always, rolling the bike in almost immediately, and it’s 4pm already. A full inspection of the tyre reveals nothing obvious, except the soapy water doesn’t disperse as quickly in some sections of the sidewall. I’ve spoken to Parts already, and while not ideal, they only have one tyre in stock in my size, a Metzeler Karoo 2. Still, if this tyre likes holding air, then it’s the tyre for me. We pull off the Heidenau (with some 220km on it, and most of the nipples still present) and I chuck it upstairs to deal with later. The mechanic comments that the bead did break too easily, and it’s on the only possible explanation to lose air so suddenly. The whole shop was rather puzzled though, as you very seldom see such an issue apparently (and I’ve run out a few sets of tyres and never had it).

Still, I’m back on the road at 5.15pm. I’ve already rung my accommodation and they are OK with a late check-in as they can leave the key with security. It’s fortunate, as my ETA is now past 1am. Instead of the smooth sailing down SH1 I had earlier, I’m now in the middle of rush hour and some sections are slow going. Onto SH2 it’s a little better, but I’m puzzled by the new signs that have been installed, but with the speed blanked out. The boards state “Safer Speed Area” which can hardly be a good sign…

Passing Patetonga and these tyres that hold air are amazing. Perhaps I won’t take it as granted in the future. The Karoo is a knobbly, much like the Continental TKC80s (haven’t run them), and they are still quite nervous through corners. I’ve quickly learnt I can’t throw the bike from side to side and the tyre has to be treated a little more gently. The rear Heidenau is performing flawlessly, so I’ll speak to RideLife after the trip about the front, as German tyres should work on uh… German bikes.

SH2 turns into SH27 and I continue south. The roundabout near Morrinsville is still under construction but the dual purpose tyres are making easy work out of the gravel. If only knobblies lasted as long as normal tyres, I could have the best of both worlds. The only thing with knobblies (as this is my very first – my cherry popped so to speak) is the howl. It gets noticeable at 60kph and only gets louder as you get to 100kph. Thank goodness I use earplugs, otherwise I would probably go mad.

SH27 ends in Tirau just after 7pm and I even feel self-conscious as I pass some people stopped on the road side. I’m sure they’re all wondering about the howl from the front tyre. SH1 is nice and empty and I maintain a good pace down to Turangi. It took 200-300km for the Karoo 2 to settle down. The howl hasn’t changed, but the tyre is more planted through corners and I’m feeling more confident. It requires smooth lines through corners to reduce the strain on the tyre, but for a tyre meant to be happier off road, I’m OK with the trade-off.

I’m surprised the road works still continue on the side of Lake Taupo, between Taupo and Turangi. Being SH1 I’d thought they’d fix the road ASAP and get it back to one lane each way, but perhaps it’s more complex.

Pulling into Turangi it’s a quick fill at the station and across to the truck stop at 8.50pm for a long lazy dinner of delicious food, for an hour. I realise I haven’t had a drink or eaten since morning and re-hydrate to make sure I’m nice and alert for the boring run to Wellington. It was cooling rapidly as I approached Turangi, so expecting Desert Rd to be cold, I threw on a few more layers and a balaclava, switched the visor to the clear one, bought an extra drink and settled into the last leg to Wellington.

Desert Rd wasn’t as cold as I expected, bottoming out at 10 degrees and bar a few trucks which let me by when they could it was an easy run. I wanted to randomly detour down the Napier-Taihape route, but knew I needed sleep before work on Friday. Equally, Vinegar Hill called out at 11pm, but I knew it would add time on, and being late at night, all the cops were evidently tucked up in bed. Indeed, I was surprised to see a cop car parked in Sanson next to the toilets as it was 11.30pm on a Thursday night.

The run to Wellington was its normal boring self and I ended up trying to be economical instead, minimising speed changes and throttle movements. The motorway through Wellington to the airport was closed, but thankfully right after the Terrace exit, which I wanted to get to the new accommodation I was trying, Trek Global. I arrived just after 1am, the security guard came out, helped me get my gear inside and showed me where to park the bike in the secure parking.

The backpackers was a labyrinth of corridors and stairways but I figured out enough to find the toilets and how to get in and out. The guard offer the common space to chill out, but I said it was shower and bed for me. Unpacked a bit, found the showers and was in bed by 2am.


Friday

The alarm rang at 6.30am. I didn’t want it to, but didn’t have much choice if I wanted to get going and I expected parking in the city to be limited for the GSA with panniers. The earlier I got going, the better my chances were of finding a park.

Mostly packed, down to reception for the breakfast pack (for $3 you couldn’t say no) and I was out the backpackers a little late, at 7.45am. That’s what happens when you forget to put out socks, pack them into the bike, then realise when you go to put boots on…

Willis St in downtown Wellington is a baptism of fire after the smooth run into Wellington in the early hours. Cars everywhere, I even struggle to get out of the side street the backpackers was in. Going down Willis St I’m first overtaken by a learner on a bike, within the same lane (no mean feat when I’m a metre wide) and then, as a light goes green, by a bicycle. Jeez, I’m used to traffic, but for some reason my brain isn’t prepared for this, and I’m wobbling along cautiously as pedestrians try to commit suicide on my crash bars. I find myself wishing like hell for the nice open country.

I reach Ballance St as planned, and even better, find enough space in the first bike park to dock (cough, I mean park) Jessica.

The day is spent working, going for some lunch in the early afternoon and checking on Jessica, who hasn’t eaten the bikes, but a scooter is going to make it rather difficult to get her upright come the end of the day. Seriously… they either don’t care or don’t think the bike has to be upright to move it. That boxer motor and aluminium boxes have to go somewhere…


The whole purpose of riding down now becomes clearer to you… the reader (all one of you). I could spend 2 days going back to Auckland the long way (or really long way), but in the last couple of months I’ve done most of the good roads in the North Island. Naturally haven’t done ALL the tiny back roads, but I’ve done SH1, SH2, Patangata way, Gentle Annie, Forgotten Highway, East Cape, Waioeka Gorge, you get the picture.

I haven’t been to the South Island since February, and will next be down there in February again, for the TT2000. I’ve also wanted to explore Queen Charlotte and Pelorus Sound for a few years, so once I announced this to my boss, he said if we were ahead of schedule, he’d give me Monday off as well, so I could spend two days exploring, instead of one.

This is of course, an excellent plan, so leaving Wellington just before 5pm, I make my way over to the Interislander check-in and check-in for the 6.30pm sailing to Picton. A girl (Mac) on a black ZX6R was there, and we were joined by a guy on a ST1300 (I forget his name, but then I know plenty on ST1300s… you’re all the same ). I’d found a booking code for the Interislander on the MNZ website, so only $152 return. Cheaper than paying normal fares (the flexi fare was just over $300), and also cheaper than my AA discount etc.

I helped the others tie their bikes down, as the girl had never tied her sportsbike down on a ferry, as it was very new to her. Gotta say, they’re a pain in the arse, as going round the top triple clamp interferes with the side fairing, and so does going up from underneath. I ended up with one over the top and one up from the bottom. Jessica was much easier, with the crash bars so useful and handy.

We headed upstairs, had some dinner (I literally just missed out on the lasagne, with the person in front getting the last one – then Mac goes after and the guy says he will make her some…. Sheesh… girls) and chatted about all topics under the sun for the sailing. Made it go nice and fast, and as we passed through the Sound we went on deck and had a look around. Normally I sail at night, so took a few nice shots of the sounds. They really are beautiful. Also promised myself that each bit looked like a road, and I should try and find it over the weekend.

Off the boat in Picton, it’s an easy jump across the road to Tombstone Backpackers, my usual accommodation in Picton. A shower and I jump into their comfy beds to have a good sleep after the previous night’s rather short one.