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