KIWI RIDER 06 2018 VOL.1 | Page 21

OUR (PART 2) breakfast will be fine. The cafes will be open by then. The roads are wet. I pass the Duchess and Red Hut Pool carparks, no-one is fishing the change of light – but perhaps the river is too coloured. I don’t stop to find out. Mist descends, more darkness, and more rain. I’m wiping the visor constantly, the sharp corners appear, and suddenly I perceive a van slammed into the bank on the opposite side of the road, just after a sharp left corner over a bridge. I’m in two minds. It’s been there for days... Or, it’s just happened. I ride past, but can’t see a thing. I ride on – 200, 400 metres, and then, disgusted with myself, I slow, turn round and go back. I roll down towards the van, the windows are closed, but I’m actually really nervous there’s someone dead, or slumped inside. The driver’s side window has been driven firmly into the bank. I pass by and turn round again. Park and get off the bike, side-stand on the sealed part of the road. If a truck comes round that corner, I’m gonna lose the bike. Bloody hell. I cross the road, peer in the window, the van is cold and empty. I’m relieved as hell. It would have plagued me all day. I briefly wonder what happened, then climb back aboard Jack, and concentrate on the road ahead. It’s a solid wall of grey I am driving into, no idea where I am, apart from the road unspooling on the cellphone app in the cradle. It’s wet again, and surprisingly cold, my spirits are sinking, and I’m beginning to think I’ve screwed this up. But the bike is powering along, the cold air giving the big twin some fresh bite. And then it seems to be getting brighter – the cloud might be burning off – and a gap appears in the cloud, high up. Ruapehu is snow-capped and gleaming in brilliant sunshine, vast, and as close as your arm in the sky. The mist leaves the mountain disembodied, and my spirits rise like a kite instantly. Wow. Just wow. Ready to leave Auckland KIWI RIDER 21