Hitcher
3rd September 2006, 22:21
There 's something about the evening, when it's dark and most of god's creatures have called it quits for the day. The cooler air, an indescribable change to the space-time continuum wrought by the headlights on one's motorcycle, the moon, the stars, the aromas of the night...
And so it was on Friday evening. XP@ and I plan to ride in the 20th Grand Challenge in October, and were thus keen to get some callouses on our posteriors and a bit of practice riding for a large chunk of the evening.
We rendezvoused at Shell Mana and, after brief introductions to check that we were indeed the right nutters, hit Highway 1 in a northerly direction at about 8:20pm.
I led the first leg and, keen to cut out the long straight drag that is SH1 with its interminable daisy-chain of truck-and-trailer units, and take in some corners, I turned off at Kimberley. The back road to Ashhurst wasn't quite as traffic-free as I had hoped but we were able to establish a goodly pace.
I stopped in Ashhurst to remove a solid coating of sea spray and road film from my visor, have a slug of water and a chat with my traveling companion to see how familiar he was with the roads in these parts and the expected range of his TransAlp. XP@ knew the planned route and took the lead.
The evening was perfect for riding: no wind, not too cold, a canopy of stars and half a moon above. Lovely.
We took the top road through Colyton, and then through Cheltenham and back to SH1 via Vinegar Hill. Fantastic. I got the impression that XP@ was enjoying himself mightily.
By this stage SH1 was largely devoid of vehicles, so we swept northwards through Taihape. The roadworks on the realignment south of Waiouru had some frightening potholes – perhaps a bit less fearful for TransAlp riders than those on a big sports-tourer – a bit like the surface of the moon. Fortunately they did not contain water or anything more sinister, such as a Los Angeles-class submarine.
Waiouru was our first gas stop, and also a chance to empty bladders and take on fluids and snacks. The pump cashier asked if we were heading off to the Cold Kiwi? Both of us had forgotten that this auspicious event was on. We were also surprised not to have seen more bikes in our travels. As we were gearing-up to leave, two bikes arrived – a Virago and a mint CB750, festooned with luggage and presumably carafes of rum.
Waiouru to Ohakune was the coldest stretch of our journey. The cloud was down almost to road level at Waiouru and hovered broodingly above us almost to Ohakune. The Karioi pulp mill was a satanic yellow ball of billowing steam, with a decidedly sulfurous stench.
And on to Raetihi. The Ohakune policeman had stopped a Legacy and was quizzing its driver on the city limits, so we knew where the local law was...
Riding the Parapara road (SH4 to Wanganui) is fun in the daytime (unless its pissing down and freezing cold) but it was also outstandingly good fun at night. Night riding gives greater warning of on-coming vehicles. We met two – one car and one truck – during our entire time on SH4. We also met one very exciting patch of unmarked roadworks and a flock of a dozen or so ewes with their lambs.
I gave XP@ a bit of a lead so that I could fully utilise the Big Yam's magnificent headlights without frying his retinas via the TransAlp's mirrors. The Paraparas also provided a good chance to practice trail braking – a technique I had not been able to use to full effect on an ST1300 with linked brakes. The FJR's brakes are magnificent. Lots of stop but with lots of feel. The bike felt very sorted.
1:00am? It must be Wanganui. The river was like a sheet of highly polished onyx, perfectly reflecting street and house lights from the other side. We stopped for about 10 minutes for a swig of water and a chat, and to listen to the sounds of the boi racers doing their bit for global warming and the teenage girls of the River City. The stench of their testosterone was overpowering.
Then we were out onto SH3 southwards to encounter a steady stream of trucks coming towards us.
Wind started to pick up from Sanson. At Levin it started to misty drizzle, with the road very wet by Otaki. We stopped there for our second and final fuel for the evening and for verbal farewells.
The road was dry again by Te Horo, but the wind continued to build for the balance of the trip home. XP@ veered left at Paramata and I rode the last few km to Ngaio alone, although I was surprised how much traffic was around for that hour.
I was tucked up in bed by 3:30am, after a round trip of about 600km.
A great ride. Top fun. Thanks XP@.
And so it was on Friday evening. XP@ and I plan to ride in the 20th Grand Challenge in October, and were thus keen to get some callouses on our posteriors and a bit of practice riding for a large chunk of the evening.
We rendezvoused at Shell Mana and, after brief introductions to check that we were indeed the right nutters, hit Highway 1 in a northerly direction at about 8:20pm.
I led the first leg and, keen to cut out the long straight drag that is SH1 with its interminable daisy-chain of truck-and-trailer units, and take in some corners, I turned off at Kimberley. The back road to Ashhurst wasn't quite as traffic-free as I had hoped but we were able to establish a goodly pace.
I stopped in Ashhurst to remove a solid coating of sea spray and road film from my visor, have a slug of water and a chat with my traveling companion to see how familiar he was with the roads in these parts and the expected range of his TransAlp. XP@ knew the planned route and took the lead.
The evening was perfect for riding: no wind, not too cold, a canopy of stars and half a moon above. Lovely.
We took the top road through Colyton, and then through Cheltenham and back to SH1 via Vinegar Hill. Fantastic. I got the impression that XP@ was enjoying himself mightily.
By this stage SH1 was largely devoid of vehicles, so we swept northwards through Taihape. The roadworks on the realignment south of Waiouru had some frightening potholes – perhaps a bit less fearful for TransAlp riders than those on a big sports-tourer – a bit like the surface of the moon. Fortunately they did not contain water or anything more sinister, such as a Los Angeles-class submarine.
Waiouru was our first gas stop, and also a chance to empty bladders and take on fluids and snacks. The pump cashier asked if we were heading off to the Cold Kiwi? Both of us had forgotten that this auspicious event was on. We were also surprised not to have seen more bikes in our travels. As we were gearing-up to leave, two bikes arrived – a Virago and a mint CB750, festooned with luggage and presumably carafes of rum.
Waiouru to Ohakune was the coldest stretch of our journey. The cloud was down almost to road level at Waiouru and hovered broodingly above us almost to Ohakune. The Karioi pulp mill was a satanic yellow ball of billowing steam, with a decidedly sulfurous stench.
And on to Raetihi. The Ohakune policeman had stopped a Legacy and was quizzing its driver on the city limits, so we knew where the local law was...
Riding the Parapara road (SH4 to Wanganui) is fun in the daytime (unless its pissing down and freezing cold) but it was also outstandingly good fun at night. Night riding gives greater warning of on-coming vehicles. We met two – one car and one truck – during our entire time on SH4. We also met one very exciting patch of unmarked roadworks and a flock of a dozen or so ewes with their lambs.
I gave XP@ a bit of a lead so that I could fully utilise the Big Yam's magnificent headlights without frying his retinas via the TransAlp's mirrors. The Paraparas also provided a good chance to practice trail braking – a technique I had not been able to use to full effect on an ST1300 with linked brakes. The FJR's brakes are magnificent. Lots of stop but with lots of feel. The bike felt very sorted.
1:00am? It must be Wanganui. The river was like a sheet of highly polished onyx, perfectly reflecting street and house lights from the other side. We stopped for about 10 minutes for a swig of water and a chat, and to listen to the sounds of the boi racers doing their bit for global warming and the teenage girls of the River City. The stench of their testosterone was overpowering.
Then we were out onto SH3 southwards to encounter a steady stream of trucks coming towards us.
Wind started to pick up from Sanson. At Levin it started to misty drizzle, with the road very wet by Otaki. We stopped there for our second and final fuel for the evening and for verbal farewells.
The road was dry again by Te Horo, but the wind continued to build for the balance of the trip home. XP@ veered left at Paramata and I rode the last few km to Ngaio alone, although I was surprised how much traffic was around for that hour.
I was tucked up in bed by 3:30am, after a round trip of about 600km.
A great ride. Top fun. Thanks XP@.