Sabrina and I crept from the garage long before sunrise, the only other traffic on the road appeared red, tail lights blazing, reindeer shit in its wake.
Over the next couple of hours there may have been one or two late rising country folk awakened be the roar of a Harley, wondering if Santa had traded up. The first half hour on the road was solitary, no cars, no cops, no walkers, joggers or cyclists, probably the safest time of the year, sensible people still tucked up in bed, looking forward to the day ahead Whitford, Maretai then the first few corners of the delightful windy coastal road around to Dudders Beach, in between a quick stop to take a photo of the sun’s first rays peeping over the horizon. The road to Clevedon was deserted, but I was reminded that an element of discretion was still required, a huge “lump” in the road causing a momentary flex of the sphincter and what felt like a bash with a 4x2 across the back – I may have backed off 5kph for 2-3 minutes. Kawa Kawa Bay soon passed, as did more fast windy stuff into and out of Orere Point, again stopping for a photo opportunity at Kaiaua, feeling like David Attenborough. As well as the obligatory Pukako, a turquoise Kingfisher flashed across in front of me, enroute from his Cliffside home to breakfast in the water, a cock pheasant wondering majestically along the road, a few roosters and even a couple of small brightly coloured parakeets a bit later in the morning. A couple of seagulls were enjoying a freshly clobbered hedgehog for breakfast. The wildlife was also prolific, obviously a great season for bunnies, most grey, some black, a few white, and fewer still the glorious technicolour mixture of all, and surprising few spread out across the road, although at one point I smelt something that must have been dead a day or two, the smell of death in the sunshine unmistakable. Inland from Kaiaua, turning from the sunrise into sullen clouds that lay between me and home, relying on the forecast for a day without rain to be accurate (and it was). Over the hill for a coffee and pit stop at BP Bombay, the three young men on duty enjoying triple time and the popularity that comes in being open when everyone else is closed. From there towards Pukekohe, more deserted country roads making for fabulous riding, fast corners, no tractors or slower traffic, even the cows seeming to be enjoying a holiday. So, 2.5 hours and 200km later, Sabrina is now resting and I’m about to crank up the BBQ in anticipation of an early lunch to accommodate those who need to be in two places at once – thinking of those like son Wade, flying travelers to be with their loved ones, working in hospitals and fire stations everywhere. 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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