Hog Club Director Doc had organised a ride to New Plymouth over ANZAC weekend - despite the forecast being fairly unpleasant, 15 riders, some with pillions, were ready for a 9am departure from BP South. As is usual with Doc's rides, Joe 90 typically leads, following a route that only Joe knows from a guide book that is yet to be published - a sure way to see parts of the country well off the beaten track, usually untroubled by anything other than local traffic. Off the motorway at Rangiriri, and into the hinterland, first stop Pirongia to hook up with Waikato riders Jean-François (Frank), his lady Linda, and Cuddy from Rotorua, very good coffee from the most impressive copper coffee machine, huge and polished. The route to lunch at the Whangmomona Hotel would take us deep into the hinterland, but our progress was hampered slightly by an unscheduled stop in Ohura - one of the guys had is bike slide out from under him on a fairly slow bend entering the small township, closely followed by Frank & Linda - wet roads, poor surface, 3 motorcyclists into the turf, getting covered in freshly mowed grass as they slid, and quite a bit of mud in the process. Joe assumed the role of MacGyver getting both bikes mobile, bent handlebars and foot boards the worst damaged (and a wee bit of pride). Linda was in pain, and later found to have broken ribs - hardly a murmur though - what a trouper. Ohura is fairly much a ghost town, all the buildings on the main street boarded up or deserted other than the community hall - having said that, there were probably 100 camper vans, big and small in town for a rain trail adventure, and our arrival provided a diversion that was a real bonus to those braving the inclement weather. The road to Whangamomona included 12kms of unsealed roads, and we knew that the rain would have made things pretty interesting, fortunately very muddy bikes being the worst outcome, everyone treading carefully and not taking any risks. The highlight of this leg was a bunch (perhaps the plural should be "an optimist') of scooters heading the other way - they were about to hit the metal section just as we left it, and it was going to be fun. We arrived at the pub after the kitchen had closed for lunch, but managed on bar snacks, toasted sandwiches and chips, accompanied by a singer, and a rather unfortunate and feral local woman who disliked JAFA's, both of who provided entertainment, a different ends of the scale. Also at the pub were riders from all over the country who'd assembled at a campsite just out of town for the weekend - and judging by the big wheelies and burnouts as they left, they'd been there one or two drinks too long... The rain had passed, and Joe lead us ever closer to our final destination, but never to disappoint, via a route that was both scenic and circuitous, but never boring. Top 10 Motorcamp in Fitzroy was a bit of an enigma, very expensive by Top 10 standards, very small rooms, clean and tidy, but extremely frugal on the things like soap (one slither), shampoo (none), milk (ask at the office). Not to worry, we'd all arrived intact, albeit with the odd scrape, Dinner at a local pub before a fairly early night for most of us - Digit excepted. Travelling with his new girl friend, his reputation as a Lothario was greatly enhanced by the noises she was making during the night - impressive. After a great breakfast at a local café, (pleased for the spike in business 20 odd riders brings) Joe lead us around Mt Taranaki / Egmont, a slightly dreary day brightened by the magnificent scenery of the Taranaki countryside, with very little traffic to impede our progress other than a Mercedes who at one point decided to take a few risks with riders near the back of the pack. A late lunch at Mike's Brewery at Urenui as a great way to celebrate another great day - a selection of great beers and even better pizzas - worth a stop. We headed back via the Boardwalk along the New Plymouth water front - a magnificent facility that makes the most of the wild west coast - boulders for miles in both directions a reminder of just how rough the Tasman can be, but seabirds hard at work within a hundred metres of the shore line indicate that all is well with the ecosystem. A case of beer and a couple of bags of chips soon disappeared as a precursor to an interclub 10 pin bowling tournament Doc had arranged - taxis soon arrived to ferry us into town, Linda and I opting for a quiet dinner of Peking Duck at the Laughing Budda restaurant over more beers and takeaways at the bowling. Dawn parade for those ex servicemen amongst us, then packed and gone by 8.20, the Fat Pigeon café in Pio-Pio our stop for breakfast, 90 minutes closer to home. So, another weekend of camaraderie with great people, great rides (thanks Joe), and all home safely! Comments are closed.
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Don MalcolmA perfect day involves being on my Harley with a long ride ahead.
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