Jeff had been talking about doing a Coromandel loop for a couple of months – something we all enjoy, but one of those things that busy people put to one side, tomorrow being more convenient than today. We eventually set a date, sent out invitations, fielded excuses from those less committed and welcomed the acceptances that were almost inevitable – we were to be four, Jeff riding his beloved Bob, Butch on his Dyna, its distinctive and loud bark, abundant chrome always polished and presentable, Craig on his matt black Indian Dark Horse (wishing it was a Harley), and me on Beyoncé. Butch was up at 4.30 to meet Jeff an hour later, before heading down the motorway, our starting point at BP south an already an hour into his ride. We enjoyed breakfast at Autobahn café, the inevitable starting point of most rides southwards, great mates catching up and admiring the procession of bikes, boats, and cars – race cars, old cars, flash cars and fast cars, as they passed through the busiest gas station in New Zealand, all headed out to enjoy what was shaping up to be a magnificent day. Craig rolled up just before 7am and before he could undo his helmet, we were off, first stop Bugger Café near Kopu. We exited the motorway at Ramarama and headed towards Miranda, taking advantage of the quiet country roads although mindful of the wildlife also up and about, a freshly clobbered hare in the middle of the road being first reminder, his cousin a couple of kms further along, darting from one side of the road to the other causing a moments concern – to hit a large hare would be akin to hitting a calf – all bone. Probably best avoided. We made exceptionally good time, the few minutes I’d invested in checking the connections in my radar detector bringing it back to life, and although not required, an insurance policy none the less. It was a brisk morning temperature wish, with all of us wearing multiple layers, with one or two still cold (get a screen Butch!) The hinterland from Ararimu then Paparimu, and through to Mangatawhiri used to be fairly sparsely populated, often damp and cold in the Hunua Ranges, too far from anywhere to be attractive but that has apparently changed with new builds and old homes newly transplanted springing up everywhere, communities of commuter residents, pleased to trade country lifestyle and affordable homes for a longer commute, bolstering the rolls of country schools. Unimpeded by any slow traffic we made very good time and rocked into the carpark at Bugger café half an hour later, only to be disappointed – still closed – onwards to McDonalds in Thames for a quick coffee and hash brown (Craig’s belated and disappointing breakfast). The road from Thames to Coromandel town often belies the fact that it is such a busy route, in places tight corners just wide enough for a four wheel drive towing a big aluminium boat, a tourist bus or a Mussel truck, but certainly not wide enough to also accommodate a Harley traveling in the opposite direction. Being ever mindful that “Might is right”, and the fact the edge of the road comes to an abrupt end, no barriers or margin, well before the second lane would normally be, and to err would be to end up on the jagged rocks 10 metres below, being judicious is a virtue. At one point I had just started to wonder what the pink paint someone had sprayed on the road signified – I quickly realised as the guys following saw me get thrown from my seat as my backside and Beyoncé parted company, nearly getting tossed off by a massive hole in the road – ouch. Aside from these little distractions, assuming the road is free from traffic (and it was still early enough for the traffic to be very light), this route is a motorcyclists dream – great corners, great scenery, and the knowledge that there is even better to come, with the pass between Coromandel town and Matarangi being absolutely magnificent, a delight for expert riders prepared to lean far enough to scrape pipes and foot pegs, the resultant shower of sparks and grinding of metal on asphalt a reminder that the ragged edge is fairly close. This still deserted segment was great reward for old boys enjoying the thrill of being on the road and the company of great mates. Luke’s Kitchen at Kuaotunu is an obligatory stop, a beautiful spot seemingly in the middle of nowhere, slightly off the main road and largely unknown other than to those who already know, and those fortunate few who have found it by chance or reputation. Great coffee, great food, and a chance to recap on the just completed leg, the highlight of our circuit, rubbing in awe the scrapes on pipes that have never previously leaned so far. Having arrived at 11ish, the wood fired pizza oven was still being brought to temperature so we settled for coffee, scones (Craig) and bird seed slice (Jeff) before remounting, invited by Mickey to visit Chez Moros in Pauanui, via a stop in Whitianga for gas. Pauanui was surprisingly quiet, at least according to Mickey. He got busy playing barista, churning out coffees (but rather disappointingly, no home baking), while Kim and daughter Claire worked inside swotting for an exam (trying to ignore the distraction of 4 rowdy bikers upsetting the equilibrium), and Jeff enjoyed a through licking from Harley, a well named and much loved Springer Spaniel who’d taken a liking to him. Back on the road, Bugger Café again chosen as our next and final stop for more coffee and something for lunch before the last leg home. It appears that the place has been sold, and with it much of the character, that invisible and intangible something that even well- meaning and diligent new owners find so difficult to replicate. Butch and Jeff planned on staying on the main highway then motorway hoping the traffic would not prove too onerous, while Craig and I opted for the Sea Bird Coast option, Miranda, Kaiaua, Orere Pt, Kawakawa Bay, Clevedon, Whitford – perhaps longer, and certainly less direct with more corners, but a fabulous ride and to my mind, eminently preferable to the frustrations of Auckland’s motorways, the combination of quick straights and scenery being reward enough. So, I was home by 2.30 (with the shore guys probably an hour later), and ready for a nap, having enjoyed a day’s riding of about 500km, a ride equal to that anywhere in the world, no rain, no drama, no problems – fabulous! Thanks guys – let’s do it again soon! 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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