PistonBlown
02-22-2015, 12:23 AM
Well I’ve done it, 2,778km (1,353 miles) of the finest motorcycle roads in the world in just over 32 hours.
At midday 97 riders start in Dunedin. There’s a fair range of machines though majority are adventure bikes or sports-tourers. There’s even a couple of cruisers but not a single Harley. Other than my RS there’s one other guy on an ST – I give him my spare set of grip puppies as he’s not come across them before.
As everyone has planned their own routes to the various check points we soon disperse in different directions. Occasionally you see another rider flying in the other direction and give them a wave.
At each checkpoint it’s rare not to meet someone and have a quick chat, an instant bond of sharing an experience. There’s one group of adventure bikers who I meet at a succession of checkpoints. They head off in one direction along dirt tracks while I go the other sticking to tarmac and yet at the next checkpoint we meet again.
One hour into the ride and I hit the freshly laid tar and chip. It flies everywhere no matter how slow I go. As soon as I get to the end I check the belt. Sure enough a stone has wedged into the rear sprocket and damaged the teeth on the belt, fortunately it’s right in the middle of the teeth and not bad enough to stop me continuing.
Three hours in and one klick from a checkpoint and the road is closed, motorbike down and rider being tended by Ambulance staff. Unfortunately one of the TT riders has hit a sheep, a common hazard on rural roads. Broken shoulder and bike.
Five hours in and I’m riding through 30C (86F) and yet there’s snow on the top of the hills around me.
Six hours in come across an old guy standing at the side of the road clutching a crash helmet – not a good sign. Sure enough, look in the ditch and there’s a Suzuki M109. Another guy in a Ute (pickup) stops and between the three of us we get the bike back on the road. Turns out he’s not a TT rider and was just out to meet some mates. His mates turn up and so I leave them to sort things out and continue on.
Twelve hours in and after 800km (500 miles) it’s time to stop and get some shuteye.
Argh, turns out the motel is near rail line and I’m woken as the first freight train goes by at 5am. No point trying to sleep anymore so back on the Spyder and head out.
Not only it still night but it’s also patchy fog and rain. Find first checkpoint ok but next alludes me and in the end I give up and move on. I have planned several more than the minimum so can afford to skip the odd one.
Arrive at the checkpoint in Bluff, a town on the southern tip of the South Island, just as the suns beginning to rise.
Ten in the morning, in the middle of nowhere, and there’s a bunch of calves blocking the road. Farmer turns up on his quad bike and help him get them back into the paddock where they’ve escaped from.
Midday Queenstown – there are motorbikes everywhere! Turns out to be a vintage motorcycle run. All sorts of old machinery chugging along - or, being vintage bikes, breaking down. Along Crown Range Road and another ambulance. One of the vintage riders has come a cropper but has luckily stayed on the road as there’s a sheer drop on one side.
Lindis Pass next, perhaps one of the almost desolate sections with its high scrubby hills on either side of the winding road until you hit the dry, open plains around Omarama. From there along the side three huge lakes that tempt you to stop for a cooling swim.
Four final check points are dotted across the Canterbury plains. For the first time the roads stop twisting this way and that and straightens out. Finally my arms and legs have a chance to rest from swinging the Spyder around bend after bend.
At 8:15pm I’m at the finish point through it will not open until the next morning. Time to head home and return in the morning for the check-in and to catch-up with the other riders. Next morning there’s no sign of the ST rider when I leave but there’s still an hour to go so hopefully they made it in time.
At midday 97 riders start in Dunedin. There’s a fair range of machines though majority are adventure bikes or sports-tourers. There’s even a couple of cruisers but not a single Harley. Other than my RS there’s one other guy on an ST – I give him my spare set of grip puppies as he’s not come across them before.
As everyone has planned their own routes to the various check points we soon disperse in different directions. Occasionally you see another rider flying in the other direction and give them a wave.
At each checkpoint it’s rare not to meet someone and have a quick chat, an instant bond of sharing an experience. There’s one group of adventure bikers who I meet at a succession of checkpoints. They head off in one direction along dirt tracks while I go the other sticking to tarmac and yet at the next checkpoint we meet again.
One hour into the ride and I hit the freshly laid tar and chip. It flies everywhere no matter how slow I go. As soon as I get to the end I check the belt. Sure enough a stone has wedged into the rear sprocket and damaged the teeth on the belt, fortunately it’s right in the middle of the teeth and not bad enough to stop me continuing.
Three hours in and one klick from a checkpoint and the road is closed, motorbike down and rider being tended by Ambulance staff. Unfortunately one of the TT riders has hit a sheep, a common hazard on rural roads. Broken shoulder and bike.
Five hours in and I’m riding through 30C (86F) and yet there’s snow on the top of the hills around me.
Six hours in come across an old guy standing at the side of the road clutching a crash helmet – not a good sign. Sure enough, look in the ditch and there’s a Suzuki M109. Another guy in a Ute (pickup) stops and between the three of us we get the bike back on the road. Turns out he’s not a TT rider and was just out to meet some mates. His mates turn up and so I leave them to sort things out and continue on.
Twelve hours in and after 800km (500 miles) it’s time to stop and get some shuteye.
Argh, turns out the motel is near rail line and I’m woken as the first freight train goes by at 5am. No point trying to sleep anymore so back on the Spyder and head out.
Not only it still night but it’s also patchy fog and rain. Find first checkpoint ok but next alludes me and in the end I give up and move on. I have planned several more than the minimum so can afford to skip the odd one.
Arrive at the checkpoint in Bluff, a town on the southern tip of the South Island, just as the suns beginning to rise.
Ten in the morning, in the middle of nowhere, and there’s a bunch of calves blocking the road. Farmer turns up on his quad bike and help him get them back into the paddock where they’ve escaped from.
Midday Queenstown – there are motorbikes everywhere! Turns out to be a vintage motorcycle run. All sorts of old machinery chugging along - or, being vintage bikes, breaking down. Along Crown Range Road and another ambulance. One of the vintage riders has come a cropper but has luckily stayed on the road as there’s a sheer drop on one side.
Lindis Pass next, perhaps one of the almost desolate sections with its high scrubby hills on either side of the winding road until you hit the dry, open plains around Omarama. From there along the side three huge lakes that tempt you to stop for a cooling swim.
Four final check points are dotted across the Canterbury plains. For the first time the roads stop twisting this way and that and straightens out. Finally my arms and legs have a chance to rest from swinging the Spyder around bend after bend.
At 8:15pm I’m at the finish point through it will not open until the next morning. Time to head home and return in the morning for the check-in and to catch-up with the other riders. Next morning there’s no sign of the ST rider when I leave but there’s still an hour to go so hopefully they made it in time.