KIWI RIDER 06 2018 VOL.1 | Page 22

Good coffee (not sponsored) in Taihape I know stopping for a photo is pointless; cloud cover will be back by the time I get the camera out and shoot it. It’s one of those things that must be savoured right there, right then – and I give thanks to this wonderful country for showing its splendour in such a moment. Another reminder to keep the heart positive. Sur e enough, a few hundred metres more and the mist closes in again, but I know now, that above the fog is a beautiful sunny, summer’s day, and I’m riding into it. I grin like an idiot. The fog persists all the way into Taihape. The cafés are NOT bloody open yet. I can smell delicious bakery scents and can’t get in to buy breakfast. The gas station is my only option. I have to say Wild Bean is pretty good when you need a coffee. I was meant to catch up with a Facebook contact here, but I want to get on, there’s warmth and sun to be had further down this road. Ten k’s out of town the weather clears, and I am riding in bright sunshine. It’s glorious, I’m on the road, through the wet, and I turn up the music and ride solid all the way to Wellington. At the first bridge outside of Bulls the bike rolls over 10,000km since new. The T120 is loving it, and so am I. By 11 o’clock I’m in the ferry terminal having a 22 KIWI RIDER chat with the terrific woman on the counter, yes, I can change my ticket and go early, and because I purchased a variable ticket I can get a twenty buck refund. Fantastic! I sit outside in the bike shelter and chat with 5 other riders, swapping stories and bike trivia. One offers the use of his house in Barrytown; he wouldn’t be there, but the key was hidden and he told me where to find it. Is there any other group for who genuine camaraderie and concern is so natural a part of the journey? The ferry crossing is as flat as the salt flats my bike is named for. I remark on Facebook how rare that is, and get into an argument with someone who says, “It’s always like that.” I recommend following the advice to bring your own straps, as the ships ones are poked. I tie it down like I’m preparing for an Antarctic voyage. Leaving all your belongings on the bike necessitates a leap of faith. I have no locks on anything, but all was well, of course. Leaving Picton I’m not sure where to head. Find a motel or a campground and stop, or go to Blenheim, or press on all the way to Kaikoura? It’s a beautiful, sunny, still afternoon, and the thought of stopping in overcrowded campgrounds waiting 10,000km clocked up at Bulls