alongside the snowy green , dimpled widths of the river , Hendrix ’ Voodoo Chile shuffled on , I always let the Sena unit free-choose , and this time was no exception . Tangerine , by Zeppelin filled the headset and I lifted off , blissed . Sometimes I think there is a god , and she likes me . It is impossible to put words to the glory of the geometric angle and corner of that glorious roadway that suits motorcycles like a German engineer match-fitted them . It must be experienced , live . I urge every motorcyclist to experience them , once in life . Still glowing with ridiculous happiness , at the gas station in Haast I asked Jeff how he had enjoyed the road , he started talking about how heavy his panniers were , and I left him to it . I didn ’ t want that glorious memory and experience ruined with mundanity . I didn ’ t mean to be rude , still don ’ t – I just wished to perpetuate the pleasure . The ‘ glow ’. Also , given the exorbitant fee I was paying for the last lonely bed in Haast on New Year ’ s Eve , I didn ’ t want to be brought back to earth too soon . We retired to the Hard Antler for a drink and
thought about the night ahead ; New Year ’ s Eve in Haast ! Who ’ s idea was this ? There wasn ’ t a great deal else on offer in Haast on NYE , so we watched the band arrive and set up . We tried for a late lunch at another local but they had “ run out of milk the night before ”, so food and coffee was off , except the sandwiches curling up for the night . Jeff pointed out that the store across the road actually had lots of milk for sale but that seemed to cause a malfunction in the mental software of the disturbingly angry-looking host . Black coffee and crisp sandwiches it was . We endured several hours of bugger-all back at the Hard Antler , and dinner was , as you ’ d expect in a busy pub , edible . Thinking ‘ it might get better when the band comes on ’, was hardly the drawcard to a vibrant night . By 7:30pm I was fatigued , coming down off the morning high , and over it . I apologised to the boys and retired to the most overpriced single bed in the western world . By 8:30pm the boys text “ It ’ s not too bad ”, surely the least enticing invitation to a bar , ever . I figured I ’ d relax and replay the ride in my head . Begging off , I retired to the sack with a book . It was then I discovered that the room was next
100 KIWI RIDER