gijoe1313's Blogs

Well dear reader, I do so hope today finds you hale and hearty and with all your faculties in reasonable shape from the festivities of a new(ish) year now. This particular day was of no special importance, but I had arranged for a nice asian lass to pillion on my Big Ol'Hornet to partake in another passion involving the lovely scenery and localities that liberally sprinkle our fair and green lands.

I awoke with the morning chorus of the aviary crew that inhabits our trees and the beaming benevolent smile of the sun's rays. The clouds were dusky, redolent in their smirks, threatening to put the kibosh on our expectations for the day. Onwards and upwards ho! I packed my tackle (fishing tackle oh gutter minded of my readers!), readied my rods (oh the phallic alludes conspire!) and all done with the most efficient of ease on a bike (break down rods are most indubitably handy for the aspiring biker-come-fisherman ... oh very droll with the innuendo!)

So with a quick serve of delicious 91 for my steed of zephyr skin, I parked up on the dot at 8am outside my assignation, awaiting my lady friend to alight from her castellion of confinement. True to form, she was late, but as I am a gentleman, this is a known fact to all men and it behooves me not to be so churlish when this is as the universe is meant to be.

A quick ride out to Port Waikato to see how the lees and breams of the sea were to be from that vantage spot, the tide was incoming, but the weather waxed foul to fair with droplets of rain spattering our visors with a hint of malign promise. We had a quaint repast to break our fast at the dairy, Mrs Macs most endearingly meaty pie filled a hole, accompanied by a glass flagon of Bundaberg's best gingerised effervescent, liquid of refreshing nature and served with a thin foil container of processed corn product granulated with powdered cheese and triangulared in shape. The decision to move to see how the other side of NZ fared was quickly seized upon by my dear asian lass and we made our variegated way to Maraetai!

Now, not to skip over the charms of Port Waikato, imagine my fine friend, the ways and means to frequent one of NZ's Top 10 holiday spots. From Bombay to the bridge that spans the tributary of the mighty Waikato river, we dived into the twisties and the turnies of that fine pootling road. Sweeping corners, some technical spots all interspersed with the lack of traffic combine with the fulsome vistas of all that is good about NZ. Coastal riding is such a pleasure and we are superbly endowed (ho ho ... and in Santa way, not the K-Road way) with such blessings that one and all must take in as much as possible. This is also applicable to the roads via Clevedon to Maraetai, any and all excuse to amble oneself down these hidden gems and jewels of our nation's road network must be exploited by bikers!

Now as I digress, we come back to the ponte de neuf of my intermittent focus on fishing. Maraetai jetty or more exactly, Ammunition bay was the pier we used for our murderous inclinations on NZ's fishing stocks. There was already a good crowd scuppering the decks and it took us a wee while to set up our tackle, my friendly asian friend ably assisted me in adjusting my tackle (oh do stop it my lothario inclined licentious reader!), baiting my hooks (tut tut I say to you), before plumbing the depths for fishy treasure (oh, really, that is enough!)

Now to the consternation and general discontent of my fellow anglers, we had not been a scant five minutes delving for the denizens of the deep when I began hauling up little packages of scales and flipping fins into my chum bucket (well, a plastic bag to be perfectly honest), little morsels of steak meat were enticing the poor fishies onto my barbed hook, luring them to their doom. My asian poppet also evinced yelps of pleasure (now, that really is quite enough from you, yes you, you know who you are!) as she experienced success. It seems much ado about nothing, but after a good few hours, basking in the sun, reeling in fish destined to catch other bigger fish, the tide goes out and the feeding frenzy means fishermen/people get the hump and go away empty-handed. Fortunately for us it was a rather successful outing and we retired to Howick to sup and dine in an ubiquitous asian tea house. Passionfruit Nata and Lychee ice drinks do go down rather well (right, no more sniggering!) with chips and deep fried cubes of tofu.

All in all, a rather good days' fishing. We took the long way home back to the city to drop my passionate pillion who is sold on biking and fishing and combining the two activities off. As for me, all that remained of the day was to come home, sort out the fishing equipment, air my luggage pack off and reflect on a good day for fishing and biking. I do emphasise the biking, but the sport of flicking a line out into the briny sea is also part and parcel of me, for an encore I shall have to do a shooting, fishing and biking tour to bring all my birds home to roost.

And that is the end of my tale for Sunday, thank you my convivial audience, you have been a lovely bunch except for the smuttty-minded hoi-polloi that infests your ranks!

Your biking and fishing chum
gijoe1313