Category Archives: friends

Already made the news

Two very different parts to this blog: one, a nice tourist on a bike one – but a little boring; two, a much more exciting one – but pretty stink altogether.

With the bike together & hopefully enough sunscreen on, it was off to explore a small part of San Diego. Cruised down the hill to Pacific Beach & encountered my first four-way Stop. Not really having a clue, I soon worked out that whoever gets there first has right of way. Riding a bike around the suburban streets was pretty easy & unlike Switzerland last year, I had no problem staying on the right hand side of the road & was easily looking left first. Great walk/cycle/roller-blade way along the coast & it was getting plenty of use.

A nice sea breeze to cool the warm sun & there were plenty of people out enjoying it.

Great to see heaps of bikes out & about – cruisers now make so much more sense than they do in NZ; saw a few choppers, loaded up cycle tourists, pink titanium rims on a pink road bike, & only a few mountain bikes. Went over a couple of bridges & ended up riding around the coast a bit further to Sunshine Cliffs Natural Park, turned around & found my back home – having fun in more congested traffic. Nice to stretch the legs over twenty-four miles.

Looking where I got to on the map after my return made me realise it’s pretty easy to get a few places on bike – even if it is running knobblies. Maybe I’ll cruise down & spend the day at Sea World tomorrow.

So I wrote the first part of that yesterday afternoon – Sea World will have wait until Wednesday after last night’s events. Sometime after dinner & fruitless attempts to get a wireless router to go with Vonage (some phone system – I haven’t quite worked out what it does yet), Anna-Marie, Andrea & I headed out for a couple of beers at Andrea’s favourite bar down PB (Pacific Beach). I was pleasantly surprised by whatever beer I had – can’t remember what, but definitely not Bud – it wasn’t all bad. We strolled from the bar down to get tacos – I was thoroughly confused by Spanish menu, but whatever it was that the girls ordered turned out just fine. The complete opposite to the walk back to Andrea’s house.

After walking through an empty parking lot, some guy started walking towards us from the other side of the street – I didn’t pay much notice, as I just thought he was drunk. What transpired took a good few seconds for me to comprehend – Andrea (who was closest to Hoodlum #1) struggled with him as he tried to snatch her handbag. He wasn’t haven’t too much luck as Andrea had a fair hold of the bag, he only really had the handles. Once I had some measure of comprehension, wafer-thin (“just one more mint, Sir”) me rather ineffectually tried to break it up. Details are a bit vague at this time, but from somewhere another guy came at me with a small baton & chased me around the corner. I wasn’t too keen on this baton & crazy Hoodlum #2 breaking me in half, but thankfully disappeared in to thin air (I was to prove a pretty poor witness!) when a few green notes changed hands. By now the girls were on the other side of the intersection & Hoodlums took off in a black two-door coupe.

By now Anna-Marie was talking to 911 & Andrea had a fair amount of blood from two teeth that had moved south a couple of millimetres after a punch to the face & a nasty looking cut on one finger. Still somewhat staggered we milled around on the main road waiting for the cops to turn up – some half an hour later an ambulance turned up (the paramedic must have been to the Bernard Black School of Public Relations – she was a piece of work), Andrea pretty much had to clean herself up in the back of the ambulance & a fire-engine turned up as well (I love American fire engines – they have so much more presence than NZ ones & are a lot shinier). Eventually the cops turned up.

The two that turned up must have forgotten that good cop-bad cop is for suspects, not witnesses. The one that interviewed Andrea was quite pleasant – the tall one that interviewed Anna-Marie & I was a dickhead. It was about this time I realised how dark it had been & I was such a useless witness. Tall nasty cop pointed out that the guy with the baton never really asked me for money – but I didn’t care, that baton spoke loud enough & I am more than happy to be unharmed & slightly poorer. Sometime around this time (now probably 12.30 – 1.00 am) another unit pulled over a car fitting the rough description of ours some miles away on the freeway (we found out later that a tow-truck driver had seen these guys steal a GPS from his truck & followed them).

When more cops arrived, we each got driven some miles away to where the car & suspects were found for a curbside identity parade. I got my first ride in a police car, & it’s not so bad up front. Unfortunately Officer Sean wasn’t willing to put the flashing lights on for me. When we got there Officer Sean went to sort out the identity parade, I got left in the front of the car & it was all I could do not to turn the flashing lights, the sirens, the PA or the fog horn – not to mention pull the shotgun off the rack – but I could listen to the radio as they called in the helicopter to search for more of our friends. For the next couple of hours we pretty much stood & sat around & Andrea identified a few of her belongings in the car, each of us went through looking at five hoodlums (basically they were each in a car up front of another squad car that had its spotlight on & they would bring each one out to face the light while we wandered up in turn & look at them as they did a nice little spin). Once again, I was next to useless here – one of the five looked like he was one of them, but it was dark previously so I don’t think I was much help. After all that happened we had stick around until a detective turned up to catalogue, photograph & print the items in the car & give back what belonged to Andrea.

All that remained after the Mustang was towed was for the last remaining cop – we were down to one after previously occupying nine cars, a helicopter, a fire engine & a bitchy ambulance – to take us back to Andrea’s house. Cruising down the length of the street it all happened on I got to use the squad car’s spotlight (rather poorly) as we searched for the handbag that may have been thrown out the car. Finally home & in to bed at 4am – what a night!

Today has been comparatively quiet – sleep/lie in until 11am. Andrea has of course been to the doctor & dentist – two teeth that will die with in the week & need to be replaced with titanium, a fractured jaw & no broken fingers. Six thousand bucks apparently – I got off lightly. It’s all still a bit bewildering – did that really happen to us? Normally I have no problem being the skinny little weed that I am – but for once it would have been nice to be Jack Reacher & kick some butt.

I think tomorrow should be Sea World & I probably won’t go out tonight! We even managed to make the news. This one is a bit more accurate.

This was supposed to go up two days ago…

Sunday 7 June 2009

So apparently it’s 1.20 pm in LA, but after crossing the Date Line for the first time & flying through the night I feel like I usually did after a 12 hour night shift (which this flight is in some ways – admittedly there is no molten iron, dust or things to organise & the food is much better) – mostly awake, but slightly seedy. The little monitor in the back of the seat says “Time to Destination – 1:04” – the States are getting closer!

The last two weeks have been nice & relaxing staying at home in Oamaru sorting out last minute details. Apart from being chilly, the weather was generally great (although the little bit of snow down to sea level was quite exciting – & a bit early in May). Twas great to spend time with Mum, Dad & Adele before running away to the other side of the world. Saturday was another pack up before we drove up to Christchurch & the last dinner (& bottle of wine) together, before flying up to Auckland on Sunday morning. In trying to use my new cash card I managed to get it swallowed & destroyed by the ATM – which very much limited my ability to get cash around the world. Nevermind, thankfully National Bank has a few branches open on Sundays & I was able to make a withdrawl by filling in a piece of paper – how quaint – & a new card is on the way to meet me. Big thanks for Andrew & Kate for ferrying me to & from the airport, storing my stuff for a couple of weeks, feeding me & seeing me off.

0:51 – closer still.

Why have I not discovered upgrades & the Koru lounge before? I should travel more. From the huge baggage allowance (with a bike & a full pack it turns out I need it), no queues for customs, sitting in a lounge for two hours & not having to eat fast food, to great food & service, & the chance to get something resembling a sleep (I think I may have managed five or six hours – usually it’s close to nothing) it’s been great. Most importantly, however, were the couple of episodes of The Big Bang Theory – Season 2 of course hasn’t screened in NZ yet (of course according to Brian, the Prime Minister of NZ, The Matrix has just come out on video). Also got a bit of a refresher of Season 2 of Conchords – may have been funnier than the first time.

Five minutes until descent…

Not long until I can put my bike together, start riding some American trails & hopefully lose a bit of weight that I’ve put from not riding & eating too much in the last few weeks. But large American portions might do me in. Blinds up – funny, this side of the Pacific looks much the same.

9.20pm

Not super tired, so trying to do the “go to bed at the normal time” to get in to a routine. First sight of US land reminded me of General Melchett looking at the wrong side of a map of the frontline – a barren featureless expanse. Then LA started – & just kept on coming. Quite the opposite of flying in to Heathrow last year – grid patterened streets, flat ground & no greenery. Despite leaving an hour late, the flight landed on time, but we did have to wait on the taxiway for a little while. Got out of LAX easily & quite glad to recognise Bev & Chris (family friends that moved to San Diego eighteen years ago) as soon as I pushed the trolley around the corner.

I never get used to looking left to cross the road quickly & this time proved no different. I enjoyed the two hour drive south to SD & the chance to have people to chat to & catch up with & discuss differences between little NZ & life in California. As expected, everything is just much bigger (fourteen lanes of freeway, SUVs, suburban sprawl, a huge Marine base & so forth). Nice to get to the Turners’ home & look out over SD, have dinner & play Boggle that was mercifully in some form of English – not Klingon. Time for a bed – must be fresh to put the bike together and start exploring (not necessarily related events) tomorrow. And try & get the wireless working.

Killers & one of the best NZ rides I’ve done

A chance to sit down & think for the first time in a week. My nice week with no shift work was rudely interrupted by a call from my boss last Tuesday, one of the other supervisors had fallen ill & could I work that night? Home for a few hours for a quick nap & it was back for a very quiet (thankfully) night shift. Enough time for a sleep & to pack my bike up for the upcoming weekend’s adventure & it was off up town for The Killers concert at Vector. It didn’t take too much persuading for Stephen (Te Puke friend) to get me to fork out the money some months ago & I had been looking forward to the night since then. If Stephen’s excitement was anything to go by it was going to be a great night – and it certainly was! I can’t speak from much experience (it must be over two years since I went to a concert – & that was nice & mellow in a vineyard), but what a fantastic concert – a large crowd particularly excited to see a good band, with an accomplished showman up front. Most of the old & new favourites were included in the set & with the live performance, some songs became new favourites & stuck in my head for the next two or three days. Unfortunately, it was straight back to work at midnight following the concert – not too bad, another quiet shift. Worked a bit later in to the morning (due to starting late) & it was rather difficult to get to sleep with sun higher than usual after a night shift – the ringing ears probably didn’t help all that much either.

Well rested, Thursday afternoon was spent packing for riding the Queen Charlotte Track over Easter. Thankfully, all our gear was being water-taxied between overnight stops – so packing didn’t require too much thought, just throw as many warm clothes & riding clothes in that I could find. A pleasant enough flight to Wellington (no aerobatics on landing, which was a bit of a disappointment) & then it was outside to wait for a bus to Elizabeth Gray’s. A sudden southerly blast quickly had me hunting out my down jacket & it didn’t take much persuading from some old guy running a shuttle for me to jump at a $20 ride to Karori & be dropped at the door (much better than lugging a bike bag from the bus stop) – plus I figured he was out late at night trying to earn some money, so he may as well have mine. It turned out to a bit of a marathon shuttle ride considering there were only three others to drop off in the central city & me. Unfortunately, one of the others was not sure where she wanted to go – Cuba St or a little way towards the Aro Valley; of course when we got to the house up the Aro on a tight windy street, no one was home & we trekked back to Cuba. Normally this wouldn’t be too much of a problem, but the driver never strayed above forty in very light traffic. I was pleased to finally get to Elizabeth & Nigel’s – where they were celebrating the completion Elizabeth’s book, well done Elizabeth! It was just as well that the celebrations were winding down when I got there as someone had to get up early the next morning to drop me at the ferry.

Arriving at the ferry terminal half an hour before our departure on Good Friday morning (also the first day of the school holidays) wasn’t the best idea – it was chaotic! Somehow I managed to find the group – or rather they found me in the bedlam; I was the only clown wandering around with a bike bag, so maybe I wasn’t too hard to spot. I only really knew one of the thirteen others, so quick introductions all around (I somehow became “Brendan from Pukekohe” – not a way I had previously chosen to define myself, but I suppose there is an element of truth to it), checked our baggage in & pushed our bikes on to the ferry to stow them with the trucks & so forth.

The ferry was at capacity (1650 apparently) so seats were scarce, spent a lot of the voyage outside looking at the view (I hadn’t been on the Interislander for over eight years), bumped in to Sarah & Andrew who I had met at Elizabeth’s wedding two months before, got to know some of the riding crew, enjoyed the nice swells & not being able to walk in a straight line as we entered Cook Strait & generally tried to pass three and a half hours (why did I leave my book behind?). The ferry was a little late getting in to Picton & it took an eternity just to fight through the hoards to get anywhere near a visual on the baggage carousel & another age for all our bags to appear.

Those delays gave me little time to assemble my bike, get changed, have some lunch – but that was all achieved (didn’t manage to get any water for my Camelbak) with a minute or two before we set off on the water taxi for Ship’s Cove & the start of the track. On the way we spotted & then circled a large & very playful pod of dolphins – most excellent to watch. We unloaded off the water taxi along with another group of four mountain bikers & a few trampers. Thankfully (I was later to find out just how much so) I managed fill my Camelbak with water & the group set off in dribs & drabs. The track certainly does not lull you in to a false sense of security at the start – it was immediately up a very steep hill & before I was walking parts of the climb & struggling to keep the front wheel on the track for some of the parts I was riding. With that rude awakening, it was good to see every one at the viewing platform at the top & the enthusiastic Dutch guy from the other group of cyclists kindly snapped our only group photos of the trip.

Of course now, we had a sweet downhill in front of us & another smaller climb. I was impressed to pass a family that had two primary aged children out riding the track – we didn’t see them after the next rest stop, I wonder how they got on. At the next rest stop we regrouped, admired the view through the clearing down to the Sounds, & learnt not to feed wekas wearing short fingered gloves – fingers are much tastier looking than muesli bars. By now it was cooling down quite a bit & we moved on to more good down hill.

As the QCT is a popular tramping track, it is well benched, mostly pretty smooth & had small bridges over most of the small creeks (which of course would be larger when it’s not autumn) – these bridges were quite fun, as typically you would go back along the side of the hill towards the stream, there would be a nice bermed corner & then the bridge would be about a metre inside end of the berm – this often caught me unawares, but somehow I never when front wheel first in to stream and over the bars. Down at water level we emerged on to a stony beach & it was great to watch each rider walk in to the clearing from the track with a broad grin plastered on their face – such was the quality & enjoyment of the preceding downhill. From here it was a gentle ride around the sound’s edge to Ferneaux Lodge (most of the group carried on to Miners’ Camp) – where we stayed in the backpackers’ accommodation for the night (& the guys had the pleasure of cold showers). It was a chilly night, but that didn’t stop us cooking our barbecue & eating it outside. When it was proper dark, a short stroll back the way we came to a small collection of glow worms; on returning, we found the campers had started arriving as Ferneaux had a bar & kitchen & pool table and the campsite didn’t – or maybe they enjoyed our company!

Bags packed & ready for the water taxi at 0900 & on the bikes – just a short ride around to Miner’s Camp, but it did have a challenging swing bridge to try & ride across with out hitting the rather narrow side wires & netting. Craig managed it quite well, I got half way across & then got wonderfully tied up. As most of the campers were still decamping, four of us took the opportunity to do a side trail up the valley to some old mines. Really we just rode & walked up a steep old road for half an hour, wandered down an old mine shaft, deliberated on whether to go any further & then rode back down the steep hill.

I managed to get stuck in my pedals crossing a stream on the way back down going too fast & ended up going for a swim – thankfully my camera didn’t get wet, although it was pretty close. Also, I was glad that the day was shaping up to be pretty warm as my left side was soaked. By the time we got back, some of the group had started off & we tootled off with the remains. We had soon climbed enough to be rewarded with yet more spectacular views up Endeavour Inlet – we also managed to find a much better camp site (note for next time) than Miner’s. Mostly a pretty gentle part of the track, some through private land & then quite a bit of freshly benched & cleared track (apparently this bit had been closed recently).

Reaching a junction we could either head to Punga Cove & then up to Keneperu Saddle (partly on road) or up to Keneperu Saddle on walking track.

Three of us headed up the walking track & it took less than fifteen minutes & was a much gentler climb than the other way – middle ring the whole way. A brief break at the top & we met Brent riding up the road – he was convinced that everyone else was in front of him, so we let him carry on while we went back down the walking track (most enjoyable)

& rolled on around to Punga Cove where we found most of the others finishing their lattes! Getting back up to the saddle was a bit more a slog & the climbing continued in the brilliant sunshine up some more steepness & then in was in to some pretty flat downhill to a beautiful lunch spot overlooking the Sounds & where we had gone on the water-taxi the previous day. By the time we got there, Brent & Shaun had worked out no-one else was in front of them & had been waiting patiently for over an hour in the sun.

Following a pleasant lunch it was pretty much riding along the ridge for the rest of the afternoon. This consisted of a bit more pushing up hills that were too difficult for me too ride, regrouping at various shelters, a lot of sweet downhill & more struggling to keep an eye on the trail as the views were so spectacular they often pried one’s eyes away from what was about to roll under the Kenda up front.

Gradually our view changed from across to Tory Channel to looking across Queen Charlotte Sound to Picton – this must have been the only part of the track which was immediately above a very large drop, interspersed only with a lot of friendly looking gorse.

The downhills kept getting better – on one such one we whizzed past another group congregated on the side of the track. We were to learn later that the Dutch photographer from the day before (not the old man from Scene 24) had had an off on a straight piece of trail, sounded seriously concussed & was choppered off to hospital – thankfully he was OK after a night in hospital. By now we were on the other side of the ridge looking across to Keneperu Sound – somewhere along here I had to stop as (other) Brent had managed to get his derailleur twisted over backwards & in amongst the spokes (snapping one). A few trackside tricks from Craig had the derailleur back in the proper orientation & the hanger bent back in to approximately the correct position – it didn’t look good for making it the rest of the trip. Another long downhill to the top of the road in to Portage – it’s always good fun giving a better rider a head start & then trying to chase them down, it must have taken me a good ten minutes to catch – the last twenty metres always proved elusive. All of a sudden we were spat out on the road (the track carried on the opposite side – we would have to ride back up to rejoin it tomorrow) & it was a quick cruise (for most of us) down to Portage. Shaun wasn’t happy with the cruise down, passed Nikki on the outside of a big left-hander & then quickly found it wasn’t nearly as big as it looked! He managed to get the back wheel all the way around, bring it back in, almost save & then end up lying on his back in a ditch laughing a lot. A pity I missed the action, but it was still pretty funny when I got there a few seconds later.

The backpacker accommodation at Portage Resort was much more salubrious than the previous night – not that that is much of an indication – & the showers were hot. Some braved the rather chilly swimming pool & some braved the jellyfish & chilly sea – I was quite happy to be showered & clean. Dinner was a mixture of various packet pastas, risottos, MREs – Anna helpfully showed us why you shouldn’t put foil packets in the microwave. Eventually we vacated the dining room for some of the other guests & moved down to the bar. After the two side trips, falling in the stream & the day’s ride (especially the hills) it was an early night for me.

After a much warmer & quiet night’s sleep, it was get up, make porridge, pack up, & wait for some to have countless cups of tea & then the slog up the road again to rejoin the track. The road was just the warm up for the climb up the highest point on the whole track. It started off manageable & then got steeper & steeper – I was pleased at how far I got, but once I was off & walking, the walking became intermittent & more frequent. For not the first time, I was extra pleased that it was autumn & not the middle of summer. More great views of course & a small stop to explain the intricacies of SRAM missing links we were finally at the top (turned out to be a top), we regrouped & polished off the marshmallows. After all the climbing the downhill turned in to a big series of switchbacks (with some decent plunges over the size) that had nice ruts going in to them that turned pleasantly in to berms. It certainly kept one on one’s toes; the last part of that downhill was a big wide open grassy chute that was extremely bumpy that shook me to pieces – I’m just glad I was on a soft-tail.

Shortly after Brent’s bike completely packed a sad & the derailleur hanger snapped off – he was left to singlespeed the remainder of the track (this didn’t always go smoothly as the soft-tail kept altering the chain tension). The track going down to the Mistletoe Bay road was lovely & flowing & most enjoyable; all of a sudden it changed back in to switchbacks for the last little bit – Emma managed to miss the first one completely & just pulled up in time as she missed the turn completely. I don’t think that was what the fairies meant by spending time alone. Crossing another road, we were around Mistletoe Bay & the track gently wound its way up & around the next headland – around which we made good time. Pulling up at some sort of picnic table, there were now views to Anakiwa as well as Picton – heading out in a boat & going for a waterski looked pretty good. It was another wonderfully clear skied day, but as there was little to no wind sailing looked like a worse option than normal.

Gavin was nominated to lead off & a group of four tore off down what proved to be another fantastic flowing downhill. I found myself at the end of the back of the next group of three; about half way down we whizzed past Paul remonstrating with someone on the side of the track. By this stage of the day we had passed many more walkers & a few cyclists walking the other way (this last day was much more accessible for day-trippers than the previous days) & it was pretty easy to tell that these weren’t two friends catching up after a chance encounter in the middle of nowhere. We got the low down of the scared Australian woman’s tirade at selfish mountain bikers (with the husband & son making themselves scarce), mixed with plenty of sarcasm & reason & manners from Paul at our final lunch on a pleasant beach (except for the sandflies). Being Easter Sunday, we were disappointed to find that if we had have been a bit quicker we could have partaken in an Easter Egg hunt all around the small bay that was well thought out by some fortunate kids’ parents – as much as we helped them, they did not share the spoils. Just a short post-lunch ride & we had completed the 70-odd km Queen Charlotte Track (Shaun managed to get our first puncture of the ride about one kilometre from the end!). What a thoroughly enjoyable ride, great track, fantastic panoramas, excellent people to ride with – if you can ride a mountain bike, I recommend you do it.

Hunting around the sprawl of Anakiwa (home of Outward Bound), which turns out not to have any shops a few of us finally found a B&B that would feed us (mmmm cheese & tomato toasted sandwiches) & let us use the most impossibly large & impractical binoculars that I have ever seen. They also provided us direction to the YHA – always handy to know where you will be sleeping. The YHA turned out to be another step up in our QCT accommodation with comfy beds, big screen TV, over 300 DVDs & a multitude of board games – & best of all, a good shower. I was very well beaten at Guess Who, made a late comeback but still lost a game of Excuses, & cleaned up at Extreme Trivial Pursuit (a spontaneous variation that does away with the board & wedges). Hauling our bags off the jetty, we scrubbed up & caught a courtesy van (driven by someone who should have been sober & perhaps was) to the pub with no EFTPOS. Big old country pubs are fantastic, but eating our various fried meals (the works burger was rather impressive) did rather feel like sitting in a distant great-aunt’s living room full of old faded photos, curios & knick-knacks. The landlords were away for the long weekend so we were graced with a marvellous Liverpudlian (& apparently Wayne Rooney’s cousin) accent & barmaids wearing Easter bunny ears. Eventually we moved out to the lean-to-esque outdoor area with darts & pool table (I managed one of my much poorer efforts at pool); our hosts must have been warming to us faster than an Australian tramper, as the fire was soon lit, replacement shuttle drivers were found so we could stay later & we managed a couple of complimentary takeaway bottles of white. After persuading our shuttle driver to have a pint with us, it was off in to the night – with most of us glad that we hadn’t biked the ten or so kilometres to the pub without lights.

If the effing post had not have been broke, the bar may have been less well stocked by the end of the night

I’m glad it was autumn, or else I would probably be hooked by now

Not too much of note on Monday – pack, ride back to Picton on the road, dissemble & pack bike, ferry to Wellington, hurried goodbyes to half the group (sorry if I missed you), shuttle to airport, fly to Auckland, home by 2030. Mind you, the shuttle driver was the antithesis of the old guy I had on Thursday night – he was a third his age, drove aggressively, threw the passengers all over the back seats, swore a lot; the other passengers & I were thoroughly entertained by it all.

In an addendum of the previous update which is not nearly as exciting as the QCT, but probably more momentous – Adele & I went halves in a nice big loan from the bank, which means that we now have a house. Adele is very much loving living in it (it is in Timaru, so if I’m lucky I may get to stay there one day) & furnishing it & sharing it with a fellow junior doctor.

General catchup

It’s been a while & although there are no momentous occurrences, a few little things have happened over the last couple of months. Working as the Melter Relief Supervisor over summer meant a rather mixed up shift roster over the months when the other supervisors (understandably) like to take leave. Consequently, I took a few breaks when I could get them.

First up at the end of January was the best part of a week down in Palmerston North for Liz Gray’s wedding. Going down to Palmy for five or six days when everyone else has gone back to work was a bit of a stuff up – there was very little to do. I took my bike down, of course, to try & start a little training in for Karapoti (early March) – one decent ride up to the windmills (the big ones) through Ashhurst, a ride down memory lane (really the Bridle Path beside the river – a much ridden path while I was at university) & a ride in to town. I also managed to get hooked on Scrubs & watched the first two seasons (& I probably read a book too).

The wedding at Wharerata at Massey on Friday afternoon was great (got to meet Nigel [the groom] for the first time) – for Palmerston North, it was insanely hot in the late afternoon. A nice small service in the garden, caught up with a few people I hadn’t seen in a while & even managed some photos (my camera has been well rested so far this year).

Somewhere around this time (just after Waitangi weekend – it’s easy to remember when one checks the riding diary), I got a letter in the post telling me that my application for UK citizenship had been accepted. I was strangely, for me anyway, excited about this – it turned up earlier than expected & meant that I could start planning a move to the UK & a holiday in the States on the way. I also had to go down to Wellington for the citizenship ceremony at the High Commission – this I was able to tie in nicely with my trip down for Karapoti. So after said trip at the start of March, I officially became a Brit – now I just have to learn to drink warm beer, wear socks with sandles & complain about everything – especially the weather. Unfortunately I didn’t beat my Karapoti time (which isn’t particularly flash), which I was quite disappointed by.

I think I had three nights down in Wellington – stayed with Elizabeth & Nigel in their quite interesting house. Apparently it was the Yugoslav Embassy (I think an official residence is more likely) & it’s a big old house that is held by the Public Trust on behalf of Yugoslavia (in case the country ever returns!). I saw Mum briefly as she came up for the ceremony – always good to catch up. Unfortunately, it rained quite heavily on Friday night before the race & it was still drizzling on Saturday morning. Not long before the start I realised that I had managed to leave both of my spare pumps at home – a sure sign that I would get a puncture. About ten minutes before the race was due to start I finally found tent that was selling bike stuff – however, they were almost as disorganised as I was & hadn’t unpacked anything yet. We spent another five minutes unpacking all the boxes (that were labelled very vaguely) trying to find the pumps. After the gloves, bottle cages, shock pumps, saddle bags, gloves, bottles & every other imaginable bicycle accessory we finally found the pumps – saved!

The race started off in a drizzle & was the normal fast gravel to start with. Half way up the warm up climb there was a small descent across a small stream & up again – there must have been a decent rock coming out of it & I was glad no to be joining the many on the side of the track repairing punctures. Unfortunately quite a few minutes later I was on the side of a climb changing a tube in the rain. Just as well I had a pump – pity it was a piece of junk & took ages to inflate my tyre anywhere close to where it should have been. Back riding, but taking it easy & trying no to get a snake bite. Survived the first proper climb & congregated with a lot of riders at a clearing at the top of the Rockgarden to do some maintenance (much lube going on etc) & managed to borrow a really nice little pump & get my rear tyre up to a good pressure. About that time some one came running back up to the track to where we were to tell the first aiders that some guy had fallen off & broken his arm. We had to take it pretty easy & there was so many riders that weren’t keen on breaking ourselves that we formed a procession walking down the Rockgarden – not nearly as much fun, but it was slippery & we survived in one piece. Survived more pushing to the top of the Devil’s Staircase & really enjoyed the nice long down hill – pity I punctured again. This time I was replacing my tube with three others & ended gifting my holed tubes to another guy whose weren’t repairable. Easily made it up the last hill (had helped that I had had two big breaks repairing flats!) & had a quick ride out down the gravel road with some other rider & almost got swept down the river just before the finish.

Was glad to finish, & I figure the forty minutes extra was down to the two slow puncture repairs & all the extra mud & traffic. Altogether I was happy with how I rode & wasn’t feeling too tired at the end – but most of all happy to survive the rain & mud without breaking myself. It was also a bonus that I got the rental car out of the paddock without getting stuck or damaged. Wonderful to get back to another fantastic Elizabeth-cooked meal.

No big riding trips since then – many laps of Puni & Hunua on the singlespeed & I think a couple of trips to Woodhill have been the extent of it. In a swallowing-one’s-pride move I have started swimming lessons – I finally decided not being able to swim to save one’s self was not really good enough & I should at least give learning to survive in water without a life jacket another a go. So far, kicking in the water is ridiculously tiring – it is so much easier to ride a bike for a few hours than kick a few lengths of the pool!

In the last two weekends I have done more tramping than riding – it’s starting to weird me out a bit. (As an aside, I did manage to see Tendulkar score a test century at Hamilton – which was a lot more satisfying than our batting). Last week it was up Mt Pirongia – everyone kept telling me it would be muddy, but thankfully it wasn’t (just as well for Jane, as she left her boots behind). First up it was a 500m climb to a trig which took about forty minutes.

From here there was only about 200m in altitude to the summit. But of course, it was a typical ridge track – must have been seven or eight descents followed by ascents. But we made good time & got to the summit in two & a half hours. Pretty good views, but a bit too much cloud encroaching from the horizons to give clear vistas. We decided to carry on to the small hut (six bunks) for lunch. The hut has only been there since 1980 (put up as day trampers kept getting lost & caught out – something we weren’t planning on doing, especially as I was only carrying my Camelbak) – but surprisingly had a stocked refrigerator (which we assume was for the builders of the new track that started from the hut & went down the south side of Pirongia).

Going down wasn’t a whole lot faster, but we did stop to climb a rocky outcrop (Adele would be proud). A great day’s walk – pleased to be back at the car six hours after we left – not so pleased to get home in time to see the Warriors get beaten by the Broncos & lose more players to injuries at the start of the season. This weekend just gone was the annual walk to Homunga Bay from Waihi Beach – a pleasant stroll on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon; best of all I stayed with Dave & Rosey & Evah, did not too much, slept in & finished the new Jack Reacher.

Other titbits – I haven’t worked a twelve hour shift in ten days & should not have to do any more, my new British passport has turned up (only three weeks – quite impressed) & it’s time for Conchords…