We woke to a lovely morning, most seemingly up and about before the sun climbed over the hill at our backs – time for the first coffee of the day and to wipe the bikes down of overnight dew.
After a great night, great dinner and perhaps one to two too many drinks (for some), everyone appeared in good spirits and ready for another day on the road. First stop was only 10 minutes away, but first the obstacle of 3 dogs wandering free, up to no good and possibly looking to take out a Harley or two. Our destination a cheap, cheerful (and surprisingly clean) breakfast bakehouse in Kaitaia, where everything on the menu board is accompanied by a photo and a number – meal “3” seemed to be popular (eggs, bacon, sausage, mushrooms, baked beans and toast), produced quickly and efficiently by a small team of hardworking new immigrants. As usual, any visit to this tired and poor town is to be reminded that the further north you go, particularly “North West”, the worse the issues of a low socio economic circumstances appear to become. For the most part those locals who were out and about don’t look to be in good health or wealth – far from it, seemingly with an air of acceptance of what is a universally bad situation. The Minister of Porn’s multi billion slush fund does not appear to have had any impact to date. Mike C had family commitments, so headed in the opposite direction to the rest of us, with home only a few hours south. So, on to the Cape, 120km of fairly quick riding, early enough to be troubled by much tourist traffic, (or traffic cops - my laser jammer and radar detector always on high alert) and in very pleasant riding conditions. Whilst perhaps traveling more quickly than ideal to take in some magnificent scenery, (the trade off between enjoying the ride or taking in the sights, with the bike winning by some margin), the leg passed quickly and soon the dunes and the magnificence of the meeting of the oceans came into view – wow. Over the next 10-15 minutes our crew arrived in dribs and drabs, and as far as I could see, as helmets came off, a smile on every face, each having ridden his own ride and enjoyed the experience. Most chose to wander down to the lighthouse, but Angus and I instead decided to attempt to solve some of the problems of the world whilst sitting in the sun and taking in the magnificent scenery - and in my humble opinion we did a fairly good job of it. A few photos, then back to the bikes, ready for what we’d agreed would be a more scenic ride back to our next gas stop at Awanui, and so it was until Mel’s 128 cubic in, tricked out CVO flew past me like a bolt of lightning – the thought of kicking down a gear and trying to catch him passed in a nanosecond as futile – the fact is if Mel was riding a Honda 50, his skill would hold him in good stead. Instead, I picked up my pace from “scenic” to “comfortably quick”, knowing that whilst I could never catch him, I’d have a ball in the process. I knew that as long as I was not tempted to cross the line of my own competence into the “ragged edge” of craziness, I’d be ok. Headlights behind mine slowly became more distant, but only for a while, as one slowly started to glow brighter as it got closer. Angus can pedal his Road King fairly hard, and it was not long before I acknowledged is superior skills and waved him through, then sat on his exhaust, again enjoying the sheer thrill being on the road with good mates brings. So, gas at Awanui, then (with a slight mis-navigation on my part that nearly ended badly as Craig applied brakes heavily in response to my micro signal) on to the Mongonui pub for a lunch of fresh battered fish and chips, and a couple of beers in the sun – ahh, perfect. A short ride to Paihia saw us arrive at the newly renovated and expanded Dolphin Motel (and a quick nana nap for some), before beers and a couple of bottle of JD in the shaded BBQ area before heading off to the RSA for dinner. Tomorrow, homeward. 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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