The Ruru's

Saying farewell to Grant Mitchell as he pushes forward to repeat the SI again, after we completed the NI yesterday together was always going to be tough.

Who is going to make sure his tent is pitched correctly, washes behind his ears, eating a pie a day, or rubs on butt butter in the right two places?

It’s been a pleasure ehoa to now ride the length of both islands with you.

You have come so far since concept to reality, kia kaha for the solo kms ahead.

I be following you at the ready if you need picked up!

Keep the head lifted my friend and enjoy.

Ru

When I looked out to the east first thing this morn, the horizon was looking happily encouraging.

By the time we rolled out of the campground, the same skyline had a “red sky in the morning, shepherds warning” artist pallet about it.

And by the time we reached the road that would have us elevate up the Remutaka incline (an old railway line), we had a head-on gale-force wind and squally rain beating on us.

A swing bridge on a part of the trail referred to as Siberian Corner, renown for horrific wind gusts, was buckling and a swaying.  I was first to it and knew someone needed to show courage.  Like a duckling new to water, cool calm and collected on the outside, but paddling like f..k on the inside, onto it I went.  Yikes it was roller coastery.

Losing a paper, scissors, rock to help Hannah across, I ended up running back across to run her and her bike forwards again!  Cheers and laughter from the other two will still be echoing down the valley!

A couple of tunnels gave some shelter, but by the time we reached the actual summit on the Hutt Valley side, (1,141 feet above sea level), the rain was torrential, and wind compounded.

Veering off route and into downtown Upper Hutt (where I first started work at the Post Office during 1982 at aged 16), we dismounted at the mall like drowned rats.  It allowed us some time to meal, drink, dry out and catch up with some mates Justine Henare and Delwyn Frederikson.

I have to mention that as we approached Upper Hutt on a back road, Grant out front startled three Pukeko’s on the left-hand side of the road.  One couldn’t quite get the lift it needed flapping its wings profusely so as not to become bike kill and got caught in a gust of wind, it’s under belly hit the road enough to disperse some of its cloak and eventually managed to veer left, just clear a fence and then with lanky legs running like an ostrich does, still flapping its wings, had me in fits of laughter so much that I nearly died cos I couldn’t breath and had tears streaming down my face.  The only time I was close to crashing off the bike!

These are the moments one cherishes from doing a ride like we have.  Which a few hours later, concluded as we arrived at the Blueridge Ferry terminal and the end of having cycled the length of the North Island.

Job done.  Feels amazing. Hard to believe.  Got the photo. And twas awesome to be part of Piglet (Grant), Pooh (Baz), Hannah, and Damon who also finished the ride with us’s adventure.

A twist of fortune has allowed us to catch an 8pm sailing to the lower island therefore bidding farewell to Baz and Damon.

A day when reflecting back that has been encouraging happy.

A last blog post tomorrow.

Well, the first 20 kms were a breeze.

And that’s because the blustery gale force puff was up our jacksies.  Could make out the lycra VPL on those in front, it was that good.

And for those who don’t k know what I mean re VPL, pse google images and I take no responsibility!

Then, the next 10 or more was head on. Holy shit, keeping the bike upright whilst pedalling to go forwards was ridiculous.  Hannah had to dismount at one corner so as not to be tornadoed over to Brazil. I tried to round the lads at the front to do my bit and lead to slip stream … got even with Grant and then thought he was younger than me so look after your elders. Dropped back, and back into file.

Eketahuna was a pit stop. Escape the wind that abated after a nourishment (and no pies) but transitioned to rain.

It was a case of grin and bare it until we reached State Highway 2. Grant decided to stay true and went left to follow the actual trail, the rest of us went right and rode SH2 sharing the road with all sorts of traffic.

The positive about this was weaning Grant off us in prep for his next part of the journey solo (the South Island), and Hannah the same. Baz and I finish our ride at Wellinton.

But when Grant met up with us again, he’d broken a spoke, so the focus was on finding a bike doctor to administer first aid.

We did. It was repaired.

We continued the last 50kms from Masterton to Martinborough.  Where the clouds had dispersed and the ball of yellow shone strong.

A vast contrast from the mornings character building. So, to the landscape.  Contrast.  It was a parched dry karatane shite brown whereas this morn, a vibrant green.  Albeit been over because of the gale.

It’s been two weeks today since rolling off the Cape and now here we are, one more sleep before the final slog and tick, North Island ridden.

Whatever the weather, bring it on.

Kidding!!!!

Today we experienced all that mother nature had going for her – cloud, sun, head wind, tail wind, drizzle, down pour, puddles, gravel grime and a broken spoke weathering situation!

The worst nightmare of them all.

I’d heard the ping and thought it was a small stone flicking up and hitting the disc brake.  Alas, nope.  A spoke snapped at the rim nipple that I managed to duct tape.

The panic was that we were in the whop whops and with very little traffic sharing the gravel road, it being corrugated and the thought of another going under the weight of me arse, it would be a long haul walk to find a kind sole to hitch a ride back into civilisation.

It was steady as we go traversing some of the deepest gorges encountered on the whole of this island, nerves heightened a flat tyre was also anticipated, all part and parcel of the package.

I rang ahead to a bike shop to arrange for the repair … all noses pointed the same way.  Baz more so, has bigger nostrils than me!

50kms became 40kms to become 34.

A trail angel with food snacks and drink was a compulsory rest stop.  Blueberry muffin and a cup of tea.

Then it was at pace until we had to turn into a strong head wind that slowed the rotations somewhat.

My Ride Bicycle Shop in Palmy North were brilliant and replaced the spoke, greased the bearings in the crank, inserted new brake pads and serviced Grant’s chariot too.

The golden arches of MCD’s were a lovely place to hide out at and wait.  Feed too.

We weren’t done yet; it was back on the bikes to head up and over the saddle to Pahiatua.  In pouring rain, road spray and blustery side wind.  But with the comfort of knowing the bike was as good as new.

With utmost respect to mum above.

From Pahiatua, we now head due south with another long haul ahead to Martinborough.  Weather is predicted to be crap but hey, no whop whops on the next bit.

Peace of mind to keep the body propelling forwards, that’s for sure.

There has been a prominent drop in the mercury temperatures over the previous two nights.

People are wearing more cloth to bed and sleeping in the foetal position for warmth.  You then try to stretch out weary legs that ache and hurt when you touch them.  Grant’s making a nice little profit from his magnesium pill side hustle, we are all his customers!

Everyone has a sore body part story, huh, more so Baz and Grant today!

It was a 7km ride to our actual start this morning from the Top10 campsite.  Grant called into a store to purchase some Power Aid’s for hydration along the way when Baz realized he’d left all his drink bottles back at the Top 10.

Stoically, he decided to ride back and get them. We rode forwards knowing he’d catch up at some point.

There was flat, lumpy, down and up and a combo of road and gravel.

With Baz out in front and Grant on his tail, they both missed a left turn and instead carried on right.  Right up an incline and down another, whereas Hannah and I hung the left on the proper direction.

We watched their dots heading towards Fielding.

And were unpacked, drying out the tents from the nights condensation and soaking up the late arvo sun when they finally turned up at the next stop, a community hall at Rangiwahia.

My strava read I’d done 109 kms from A to B.  There’s would have certainly recorded more with there A, B, C, D, E, F, G’s!

Bet ya their bodies were feeling it doing the extra tiki tours.

Our home offered power, a jug to boil water and a hot shower.

Hot water sooths more than one could ever imagine after a looooonnnng day in the saddle.