Day 11 Pipiriki to Whanganui Part 2

Day 11 Pipiriki to Whanganui Part 2

It's only 15 kms to Whanganui, I can handle that and finish early and relax but the wind is blowing hard in my face and it's hot. There is a lovely little church in Upokongaro so I think about a photo but spot some children sitting on the grass at the front of the primary school next door. I cruise to a halt by the gate and shout out hello. This is the chance I missed with room 4 in Te Aroha.the young teacher glances at me and continues tuning them up. How's your day? I interrupt. She turns and looks annoyed. I'm riding from Cape Reinga to Bluff. She looks away and continues talking. I interrupt again telling her the school in Te Aroha had been plotting cyclists progress and came out to give as a cheer and I spoke to them. She's not interested. I say I was an English teacher and would like to recite a poem to them. Would they like that? There is the faintest stir of interest. I ask what they have been doing? Swimming. She said she was giving them a bollocking, but I knew that already. She relents. Ok then, I tell her she can relax for a moment and the steam goes out of her. The kids are sitting in the hot sun but she is under the shade of a palm tree. I explain the poem is about a man on horseback on the shortest night of the year then launch into Robert Frost's 'Stopping by woods on a snowy evening' stopping after each verse to explain and wait for the traffic to pass. I fluff the line mixing up 'the only other sounds the sweep of easy snow and downy flake.' but the kids don't mind. I finish with a flourish.

'But I have promises to keep

And miles to go before I sleep' 

I ting my bell and am gone.

A few minutes later a grannie is walking her kids home from school across the new bridge built for the cycle track to Whanganui. One of the kids says to me. You just read us a poem.

I cycle on and stumble upon the Top 20 Holiday Park 6 kms out of Whanganui. My booking manager was going to see about a room here but hasn't called me back yet so I cruise in on the off chance. Yes, Samantha has just booked and paid for a cabin for me she says. Is there a toilet in it? No. Can I cook in it? No. How much is it? I baulk at the $80 price. I'm thinking I might as well camp on the grass. How much is a tent site? $25 but there won't be a refund for the cabin. I was too tired to argue so asked about cooking because I abandoned gas cooker plate and pot in Auckland to lighten the load. No. There are no pots or pans. I thought that and cups, cutlery was standard practice at Top 10.

I should have asked for an upgrade to the room with the kingsize bed of nails the complimentary slice of stale bread, pond water and a good lashing or got Sam to cancel the credit card because things were only to get worse.

I found the nice room in a block of four and laid out all my damp gear to dry. There was a bike outside the next room so I introduced myself to a dejected Eric of the North Shore. He had started the same day as me but he had already been there a night and was waiting for his wife to drive down and pick him up. Exhaustion and disappointment were written on his face. He was also traveling alone and had hoped to slot in with some others but it hadn't happened. There are some serious riders doing the TA and although it is not a race. You must rest at least 6 hours in every 24, it does have a tension and urgency which can become consuming. I had no expectations of riding with anyone, they all pass me, I couldn't possibly keep up and would drive anyone else mad with all the dithering, photo taking, yarning to locals, fixing panniers, checking maps I am doing. It is a minor miracle I have got this far.

A team on the other hand has the advantage of slip streaming and sharing the heavy work at the front, the route finding is easier because of fancy electronic Garmin devices preset with every turn already dialled in, and the psychological competitive boost you get from riding together. It's easier with others. A team usually has an unspoken leader and others slot into other roles which suits everyone. Eric was clearly a skilled and experienced rider. He explained his bike's gears  which are a bit of a mystery to me. I am reading the hasty notes I made as we chatted but they don't make sense to me now. He had a flash bike with 11 to 51 teeth cogs on the back hub. Only one 32 teeth cog on the front pedalling axle, and a 13 speed derailleur on an 11 speed cassette. If you understand any of that you are a genius. You might as well try to teach me to crochet with my eyes closed using a fish hook. It ain't gonna happen. My old Dunga has 3 cogs on the front, about 6 on the back. All I know is you shouldn't use the top cog on the front and the bottom on the back because the chain gets too tight or loose and will cause it to come off and you need to stop again to fix it. I just crash around until I find a gear I can pedal without feeling too much pain but also move as quickly as possible. I just wish I had one of those dinner plate cogs some riders have. They could probably ride up the side of a building with it if it weren't on for gravity on pulling them down.

I admire Eric for stopping. Sometimes we carry on doing things we don't enjoy but life is too short for that. He can always do it at another time.

His wife turned up so I made myself scarce and later and gave him my other jar of honey as a consolation prize. I showed him my bee Stonehenge photos and it turns out he is an amateur apiarist. Turns out if you see a hive with only two layers it is because the bees are not producing honey and are being fed a sugar solution so no need for the trays they form combs on.

You learn something new every day.

Anything LifeStyle-’ No job too big or small’ Outstanding in their field.

The sting had gone out of my encounter with the bee as I cruised to a halt and complemented these three comedians on the excellent fencing job they had done; taut wires evenly spaced and a fence line as straight as a die. One replied, “Have you got any suggestions for improvements?”

“Indeed I do,” I replied. “Up around Owhango they recycle old ceramic telephone or power line insulators, nail them to the top of the posts and run a wire along. You could make this an electric fence and really keep the stock in.”

I asked who they were and Daniel whipped around to show me the back of his shirt. “Anything Lifestyle” 027-4512937. “No job too big or small”, cried out one of the two Franks. They both looked young and athletically wiry and I couldn’t determine which was Frank Junior or Frank Senior. They enquired where I was going and what I was doing. Tour Aotearoa. Hometown Blenheim. One of the Franks said he had made good money down there 20 odd years ago harvesting garlic, presumably clipping the roots and pulling the stalks off, for $1.00 a bucket full. (I knew all about doing that having laboured for my parents for hours after school and going to class the next day ponging of garlic in my youth. One year my reward was a flash watch with a sweep second hand, which I picked out of the jeweller’s shop window in Blenheim with dad.) One Frank reminisced that the waters down there were pure and clean and you could see the bottom as clear as day in the deepest pools. Ah yes, Pelorus River, I thought, I would be passing through there in a few days. The other Frank remarked that they were starting a nudist camp—for ladies, then they were gone. It was a blazing hot day and they had work to do. As they left I shouted that the nudist colony may not be such a good idea up there. Had they never had sunburnt privates? Daniel wandered over and we chewed the fat for a moment. They were contracted to look after a Maori block which went to the horizon. He too then disappeared over that horizon with the dogs and I continued on down the valley.

Noisy neighbours is next.