The annual Fish & Chip Run to Tauranga is a regular feature in the Hog calendar, and Rob is the Road Captain who makes it happen.
Not deterred by several days of the very worst weather seen in Auckland (and other parts of the the North Island) for some time , 18 bikes turned up for the ride, and whilst some were on the receiving end of the last of a summer shower enroute to Autobahn Cafe at BP South, no one was complaining. Harley people are not made of brown sugar, and can live with a little bit of rain... Briefing done, we mounted up and as usual, brought the surrounding area to a brief pause, the roar of the exhausts from our big twins attracting the attention of men and boy alike, (and more than a little from a few of the fairer sex as well). Rob led us onto the motorway Tauranga bound. Off at Rama Rama and into the Hunua’s at a good clip, everyone finding their own place on the road, ever mindful of the detritus strewn about by aforementioned wild weather. Robs original route included Miranda, but waist high water put paid to that, but his “Plan B” was more than satisfactory, and he led us into some delightful motorcycling territory on the southern side of SH2, quiet and sweeping country roads, almost free of traffic, and not a cop for miles. Periodically we passed a stand of once tall and proud trees, toppled like fallen dominoes, and the odd farm shed blown to bits with rafters and sides bare of corrugated iron probably miles away, or some still standing but of little use to man or beast. By way of consolation to harried farmers, apparently parched paddocks now refreshed, the muddy tracks left by tractors on the road evidence of how wet things were. Rob left us in no doubt of his determination to enjoy the opportunity to stretch his legs, as we all did, a long line of Harley people having a ball. Unfortunately, prior commitments meant the coffee stop in Morrinsville marked a turning point for both Crads and I, so as the crew formed up behind Rob and headed south, we gassed up and having enjoyed the route so much, retraced our path, winding back the wick just a little and taking in more of the scenery. With the passing of the day, the sun had come out and how hot the day had become was evidenced by stock vying for position under whatever shelter they could to try and keep cool, perhaps longing for more summer rain. Closer to home we traversed more of the Hunuas, and the windy corners closer to Clevedon introduced a new hazard - pine needles. Any motorcyclist who was ever come across pine needles unexpectedly knows that they can be as dangerous as ice, a trap for young players. So, eventually Crads and Sarah peeled off, leaving me to cover the last 15km home, another 320km on the speedo, and another morning of absolute pleasure behind me. As for the rest of the mob, and whether they enjoyed their fish and chips - no doubt I’ll hear in due course. Don Malcolm +64 21 924 114 Not many things frighten a motor cyclist on a lean more than the prospect of meeting someone head on. At the very best, your options are limited, and whatever you do could end badly...
Thank goodness for my magical Harley Bells (I now have 2)! |
Don MalcolmA perfect day involves being on my Harley with a long ride ahead.
|