Post as the sun rises. The moment of
silence that trails gives all time to re-
flect on the moving speeches, and to
truly appreciate the world that has
been created thanks to the sacrifices
of many.
From there it was back up the mid-
dle of the island for a nights stop in
Rotorua on the way to the Coraman-
del, it was the worst ride I had in the
country.
Riding with my visor up since the
plastic had frozen over rendering the
pinlock insert useless, an extreme
case of brain freeze kicked in as I
struggled to see through the heavy
mist and fog. I was tepidly crawling
along with my hazards flashing and
cars flying by when I reached an area
that had a spectacular phenomenon; a
layer of fog below my knees conceal-
ing the ground whilst low clouds hung
above my head obscuring the sky,
leaving the entire middle eerily clear
as my headlights and hazards beams
bounced between the layers.
Seeing a small pullout beside the
road I took advantage to warm my
hands against the motor and pray for
it to clear and flicked my dashboard
readout over to see that it was indeed
freezing; minus two degrees.
While I was waiting for some feel-
ing to come back in my digits, the
haze across the sky began fading in
and out giving space for the stars to
appear above and Mt Ngauruhoe and
the Tongariro crossing, better known
as Mount Doom, to loom large in the
background. For the short time the
upper clearing lasted before I was ful-
ly re-enveloped in the obscurity, the
sight of the heavens above the foggy
plains and misty mountains was one
of the most epic views of the trip.
Surviving the drive, I made it into
Rotorua to catch up with Sara whom I
had met during my Queenstown visit
where she electronically introduced
me to her friend Sam who is in process
of a similar ride across the world on a
Tiger, so I figured I owed her a beer
TRAVERSE 35
or two for the contact. Unfortunate-
ly, we learned a top tip for Rotorua;
on a weeknight don’t try to find a beer
in a pub after 10pm, everywhere was
closed. While that was less than ideal,
thanks to another stop in Stinkyville
I was able to wrangle another visit to
Kerosene Creek hot springs before
tossing my bags in Sara’s car to enjoy
an unladen ride off to Tauranga and
the start of the Coromandel.
Arriving in the dark we made a
quick survey of town before retreating
to a hostel to cook up a feast, sample
some Irish whiskey and kiwi wine,
and sit on our computers each plan-
ning our future adventures.
In the morning we woke up to a se-
rious weather change; it was absolute-
ly pouring.
Gingerly making my way up the
winding roads towards Hahei on bald
Heidenaus, I should have been prac-
ticing my power slides as my rear
wheel would regularly try and slide
out from beneath me. Somehow ar-