for being there was star photos at one
of the most photogenic spots in the
world; Church of the Blessed Shepard.
Joining the seventeen million (give
or take) other people with the same
idea, I tired quickly of people walking
in front of the lens or using their flash
during a long exposure, or just turn-
ing on flashlights, and headed out on
my own for some moto photos down
the road with the milky way. With the
help of Google and advice from Pierre
Lambert on Instagram I happily man-
aged photos that I never would have
before and went to bed chilled to the
bone but feeling phenomenal.
After a morning photo shoot en-
joying the beautiful scenery, I head-
ed off back to Christchurch, the long
way. While most of the ride is long
and straight, there are so many wick-
ed detours as I took off for laps up and
down the Opuha Dam and its lush val-
ley below, strayed to Valley Brewing
Co. with the excuse I needed to bring
Chris and Sue something and not ar-
rive empty handed, but kept up the
pace as this time I wanted to be sure
not to be late for dinner and I’m happy
to say I succeeded!
Arriving back to Christchurch I
was treated to the most excellent
surprise, there was a new resident at
the O’Leary household as Toffee the
Spoodle puppy. Thoroughly enjoying
another couple of days visit and shar-
ing a beer with my camping gear sav-
iour David, I took off again up the East
Coast enjoying another fantastic ride
to catch the ferry back to Wellington
and rip through the home stretch of
my New Zealand adventure.
As I headed to the North island, I was
in contact with Elizabeth Grace who I
had met in Akaroa a few weeks prior
(and sparingly spoken with since), and
was thrilled to still be invited to spend
a few days with her family in Feath-
erston. My time with these incredi-
ble individuals was enchanting; filled
with colourful conversation, flavour-
ful food, and radical rides (including
TRAVERSE 34
Robins first two-up ride ripping back
and forth across the stunning ser-
pentine Rimutaka mountain crossing
and watching a Fat Bob flying two-up
down dirt roads and splashing across
streams) I would have been content to
stay on my couch much longer.
My favorite part of the stay however
was being taken to the nearby sunrise
ANZAC day ceremony. With coffee in
hand on a frigid frosty morning, mass-
es congregate in commemoration of
all those who have given life and limb
for their country and in honour of
those who have returned.
The morning begins as local armed
services personnel and veterans
marched silently through the dark
mists towards the local war memorial
coming to a stop Stand-To in near pre-
cise formation next to the memorial.
As sunrise approaches the near hyp-
notic single beat of a drum announces
the beginning of the proceedings of
speeches, hymn’s and prayers before
a bugler hauntingly trumpets The Last