Newbie Baptism by Fire
Ride Report
Josh & Jon, Wellington-Ohakune return aka ‘Newbie bikers baptism by fire’
Hi, this report has been written up as I am trying to get some practice writing before travelling overseas. This is the first I've written in a long time so be gentle!
Saturday 21/10/06
Even the best laid of plans can be laid to waste and this trip had a less than auspicious beginning. Jon who had promised an early morning start had been taken ill by a strenuous Friday night and I lost my keys for a full hour. The route had been set on some back roads to be entertaining: up the Rimutakas to blow out any Saturday morning cobwebs, past Masterton, to Woodville, through Manawatu Gorge and then north through Rangitikei on roads I had never thought to drive before. This plan of an early start and casual cruising looked in tatters before it even began. Searching for some productive use of my time I went to the bike shop.
The time had come to upgrade my $20 Warehouse boots to something a little more ‘fit-for-purpose’ and at TSS I found what I was looking for. A sturdy pair of Forma GT Boots which look designed as much for a trench war as riding a motorbike. Not in my size though so I placed my order. It was almost midday now and cloud was gathering while the wind made its presence known. Stuart of TSS gave me a cheery ‘rather you than me’ and I was on my way. Cruising up the motorway watching the weather pack in I wondered about the wisdom of departing on a trip that a seriously experienced rider had said ‘bugger that’ to whereas I had only 6 months in the saddle. ‘Well,’ I lied to my helmet, ‘we don’t have a choice,’ and motored up the Rimutakas anyway. Once through the foothills and around the mandatory Labour Weekend traffic the run up was superb on the more sheltered Wellington side. At the top, it seemed like all the much vaunted front hadn’t gotten out of bed either so I called Jon and confirmed the plan. Once in the Wairarapa however the situation changed. Howling winds lay in ambush in exposed sections all seeking to unite me with the oncoming traffic. Waiting and then meeting up with Jon in Masterton, we had the first spits of rain on our visors. This was to set in before Eketahuna and it was here Jon discovered his new cordura ‘Waterproof’ pants were not up to task. The wind howled a gale now, not with gusts but sustained effort. Trying to avoid surface water I followed the tracks of an SUV, reminded myself to steer ‘soft hands’ and tried not to think about the water filling in my boots. By Pahiatua my feet were drenched but we were warm and I was not worried but I was concerned about the Manawatu gorge. Turning at Woodville the front threw one last assault at our senses. This would be the most violent weather I’ve ridden through and when the wind hit the bikes, steering a true course required a very real lean that in neutral conditions would have powered around sharp corners easily.
Once in the gorge we only had to deal with water as the wind didn’t seem to affect us. Coming through the other side into sunshine, Ashurst suddenly seemed a very nice town. We had beaten the front and I felt the rush of achievement mixed with anticipation of a relatively dry back road with no radar traps. A quick run north of Palmerston North and the kilometres of our journey were quickly pegged back. By this stage the afternoon was wearing on and we still had an unknown climb, Vinegar Hill ahead of us. Turning at Cheltenham the rain met us again and slowed our speeds to a sedate speed limit with good roads but corners that took no prisoners. By now enjoying the riding but no longer focused to push hard, I sat back and cruised. I think it’s important to be honest with yourself when you aren’t at the top of your game and riding to fast for your focus is a dangerous game. Coming up from a gully with a sharp set of twisties the road opened up and from the crest looking left an arresting view over the rolling countryside out towards Hunterville and the Tararuas further south greeted us. This was what I had taken a diversion for: a completely new road and a completely new and spectacular perspective of my country. From here it was a short but spirited run to rejoin SH1 and the Labour Weekend traffic.
Approaching the SH1 intersection a patrol car did a U turn in front of us and began patrolling. A timely reminder that the time for riding above the limit was well and truly over, we kept a 50 meter distance until he pulled over. However to my dismay he pulled out and began tailing us. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. As I had my licence test the following Friday I could not afford to be caught in breach of my conditions and had affixed the standard yellow L. However I was advertising my current status to the police officer and I had the dilemma of choosing whether to ride at 100km/h on State Highway One or a farcical 70 km/h for the benefit of following the letter of the law. Perhaps I took the wrong option but I decided not to ride differently to normal – my speedo hung suspended below 100. Surely on the open road a speeding ticket for this speed would be the height of the absurd. Before a rest stop he flashed me and I pulled to a stop safely off the road. Keeping my composure and rationality were on my side I reminded myself. The law was on his. After a discussion of the merits of riding at 70km/h the Constable made a weak statement, ‘it’s there for a reason, to reflect your skill level currently isn’t it.’ Although I could have debated this with him for hours the salesman in me could see he his statement didn’t have him reaching to book the sale but issue a cautionary tale. After pointing out the benefits of learning new riding skills by actually riding on the road, that I felt like a target at any lower speed, and a discussion of my previous riding, how I had sat the restricted but the bike had failed on a brake light, and well ‘really officer what can I say except I’m trying to do the right thing but need to keep safe,’ my case had been made sufficiently. Mr Constable let me on my way off to find the next law-breaker and I followed a few minutes later. We shortly passed him by attending to the next motorist, the 70km/h that I rode on the straight past him would rate as the most absurd 3 minutes of the trip.
Now a little paranoid of the constabulary I rode a very sedate pace up to Waiouru and left for the final run to Ohakune. Although warm I was no longer comfortable and was looking forward to a shower. Once arrived we tidied up and made our way to the pub to watch the game and have a well earned beer.
On reflection I realised part of why I had enjoyed this ride so much. Although we all relish the perfect sunny days and special picture postcard moments that cling in our memories, that doesn’t mean we should hunker down when conditions are less than ideal. Life is simply such that sometimes conditions aren’t perfect but it is only your attitude towards these that dictates whether the experience is a positive or negative one. Mine was that sooner or later we would be seriously caught out so it was better to find out what worked and what didn’t while still within reach of a warm shower and soft bed. If only Wellington had won the final it would have been a perfect day.
To summarise what worked :
Merino underwear – fantastic
Merino mid layer – kept warm when wet
Woollen socks – simply necessary, cotton would have been miserable
My cordura gear – all dry except for entry points (neck and sleeves)
What didn’t work :
Having a scarf inside my jacket – funnels water down your front.
Ear plugs seem to have worn out with age – just annoying
One pair of waterproof gloves. Eventually they will get wet.
Sunday, 22/10/06
Ohakune - Wellington
Weather : rain worse than Saturday, wind better.
I think I have written enough about the trip on Saturday alone. Sunday was really much of the same except when rain caught us we had no sense of trepidation and the confidence we had gained was great to have.
You can have fun riding in the rain. I don’t think Friendly Fielding was quite ready for the no-hands running man and starjumps we broke out down the main street but it was bucketing down so there were no witnesses at least. We will return once we have mastered the Robot at 50 km/hr.
One point I will make however is that on the way up, I had layered well enough that although wet I was warm the whole way. After stopping in Palmerston North, the weather was still cats and hounds all the way south but I had put on cold wet gloves. This cold gradually extended to my feet and then up my legs. Were I not so close to home I would have been in an awkward situation. The last few kilometres, all grace and style was out of my riding, all I could think about was a warm shower and how good a Whopper with Cheese would have been back at Paraparaumu.
Stay warm!
Some people choose to learn in gradual steps. With driving/riding I think the best way to learn is to do it, and a lot of it. Constant experience creates consistency in riding and you learn motor actions through repetition. My first week of having a licence I took the ferry and rode to DUnedin and back, the return journey in one day. Only way to learn is by doing.
cheers
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Originally Posted by Steam
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