Hanne

Pies, clear skies and being in total control of two wheels for a series of the most amazing uphill switchbacks I have ever encountered. Who says heaven isn’t on earth? Day three of his adventure beats a theme park any day!

Being the responsible adults that we are, we all recognized the importance of enjoying a hearty breakfast before heading off homewards. (We will conveniently ignore the part where Andrew does not function until coffee arouses him from his catatonic state). Pies and coffee it was then, enjoyed in a quaint Shakespeare themed guest house that was piping tunes about a ‘little black box’ from high in the authentically-stained rafters. Rather unique mix of periods going on with the time DJ there.

Then we headed out to the forgotten world highway. Actually, I knew all the best sights already, having read the brochure the night before. In fact, the photos in the brochure were so amazing that we really needn’t have bothered riding the road at all, lest the views not live up to the tourist gloss standards promised. Not wanting to disappoint you in any way, I will now take this opportunity to direct you to the relevant literature so you too can experience first hand the Tourism Board sponsored images and ‘guided tour’…

Ok, Ok, I’m only kidding, Summer School has obviously been getting to me, what with this insane focus on primary source material. Anyway, back to business!

The road began at a meandering pace, rather like a river early in its flow, before rapids have given it ADHD and completely shot its nerves. The ADHD stage was to come, but the wide sweepers rather reminded me of being on a boat (I was pillion at this stage). Interesting highlights included a school for sale, in case anyone is in the market for one of those… We stopped at the top of the first hill to read some historical facts about the area and wait for the poor wee fxr to grumble up the slope, and saw no traffic for a good 45 minutes from either direction. I guess it was this remoteness that gave Stephen the confidence to just stop in the middle of the road and hop off. He then proceeded to flag down Brown Fury and hop on the back, explaining ‘You Turn’ before disappearing in a cloud of smoke. Awesome! And this was just before the ADHD turns, too.

I am not exaggerating when I describe the hill leading up to the Whangamomona Pub as hyperactive. Left, right, left, right, and up at such a gradient that a sketch of any given corner could have provided the base for an NCEA physics question on change on gravitational potential energy. Anyway, it was certainly more effective than coffee can ever be at keeping one on ones toes and I can highly recommend the route!

Pulling into the ‘Republic of Whangamomona’ we did draw rather few odd glances, what with me on the DR, Danae on her fxr and the boys two up on Brown Fury, belching blue smoke all over the historic landscape. We met a couple from Australia who had been touring NZ on a BMW for two months and a family from Auckland’s North Shore who were quite smitten with the H100 and very chatty. After being revived with an icecream and a cool drink, it was swapsies time on the bikes again and we were off once more for the gravel section.

Turns out the gravel section of the Forgotten World Highway is actually in better condition than a good number of sealed roads across the country. Apart from the cows and the ‘warning: collapsing cliffs’ bluff section, we encountered no major obstacles. We did, however, find a grave. It was a very nice grave, set up in the bush on the side of a stream with a mini bush walk and bridge to get there. One of the men who was scoping out the land to build the road fell ill out in the wops and died, so they buried him up in the bush. Not a bad place to be put to rest. It was also nice to shed the bike jackets for 20 minutes or so while we checked the grave out. Summer riding = insane need for ‘deodorant’ to be mandatory part of the tool kit.

The rest of the ride home went by in a bit of a heated haze. Stephen managed to resurrect the stub of sausage he had pocketed the night before and use it as an Andrew-oriented missile just outside of Te Kuiti, and we discovered just how lax security is at Hampton Downs when rocking up to give Brown Fury a few laps. The cop on the onramp actually convinced us that perhaps lugging 87kg of bike downstairs to the inside of the track was perhaps not the best move, but the option was there! A few photos later and we were on our way home.

I am pleased to say that Brown Fury did in fact survive the entire homeward-bound trip and the rest of us made it home to our snuggly beds in time for (a very late) supper. So it was hot cups of milo all round, and we all slept very soundly, dreaming already of what out next epic adventure would hold in store.