I'm hopefully going to avoid boring you to death with the absolute minutiae blow-for-blow of the ride, instead adding a bit of other stuff such as what our thoughts were and how we felt at different parts of the ride to give it a bit of a human angle. Some entrants, usually travelling on their own, go hard out to do it as fast as possible. Others just hope to do it within the allotted time. We fell in the latter category - enjoy each other's company, sharing the experiences and to get home safely. My personal motivations for doing it again after a gap of 7 years and turning 63 the day after the event were primarily about whether I still had the willpower and constitution for it . Also wondered what it would it be like to do it on a small(ish) naked bike after 4 previously on litre-plus faired bikes. Hell of a way to find out!
Fellow bike blogger, Julian Pearce from Australia of Tar Snakes fame wrote to me recently and quoted the old military adage - the 7 P's.... Proper Prior Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance. How absolutely true and over previous months, the guys and I got out in all weathers and times of the day to get mentally and physically prepared. Lots of emails flying about too on topics such as lighting, clothing, nutrition and so on. Sort of our own version of the 7 P's in effect! Now to find out if the planning had actually worked.
This is our tale - click on photos to enlarge:
THE DAY BEFORE
Three of us, Andy, Richard and me live some distance from the start/finish point so we booked a motel near the venue and converged on a half-way point to meet up for lunch and then travel south together. John P and John H will be riding down on the day of the ride as they're a lot closer.
Apprehensive - who, me??
Richard and Andy's bikes in Tirau - lunch stop at Subway
After lunch, Andy who rides a BMW K1200R, confesses to not entirely having complete confidence in the gel pad he bought to protect his nether regions from prolonged pain. There's a shop a few km down the highway which sells sheepskin products, so a stop is in order to see what they've got in the way of offcuts to soften the seat.
Andy with shaggy sheepskin - the long haul icon!
..... or maybe a hairpiece for Richard
From the sheepskin shop, it's an easy cruise down to the motel, check in and fit the sheepskin properly.
The object of grubby sheep jokes!
After settling in, we ride over to the temporary Rusty Nuts HQ to introduce ourselves, sign in and get the bikes scrutineered. The Rustys don't take a current official warrant of fitness as sufficient evidence and have their own rigorous checks, including testing headstock bearings on a precision turntable. If you don't meet their standards, you don't ride and fair enough too. All the bikes pass and it's back to the motel for a beer and an excellent meal.
The course for tomorrow's big day is to be posted at 7pm so we head back after the meal to see what horrors are in store for us. The map is on the wall and route sheets are picked up. The initial impression of the easterly part of the course is dismay and alarm as it will be negotiated in the dark in an area which just 2 days previously, had road closures due to appalling weather and massive slips. "Bless me", we said, only we didn't say "Bless". The offhand comment by one of the organisers of, "They've cleaned up enough of the slips for you to get through with a bit of care" didn't do much to ease the jitters either. Still, if it was easy, it wouldn't deserve the Grand Challenge title.
This is what 1000 miles/1600 km looks like
The start/finish is at Turangi on the southern end of Lake Taupo in the centre of the map. The first leg will head south, then east through what can only be described as "Deliverance Country". Lots of narrow winding roads at the bottom of deep valleys and over ridges in pretty inhospitable terrain, ending at Checkpoint 1 (CP1) in the small town of Waipukurau. Navigating the often poorly-signposted roads in that area will be extremely difficult so I volunteer to programme my GPS and lead the leg. Programming it turns out to be quite tricky with a lot of similar direction minor roads in the area. The trap is that a number of them are dirt, so make a mistake and it can lead to tears!
Andy volunteers to lead the northerly run up the east coast to CP2 in Gisborne as he grew up on the east coast and still makes regular pilgrimages to see his parents. This will be the first full leg in the dark and the start of where all the slips are. We decide that the westbound third leg to CP3 at Karapiro should be lead by one of the Johns as Richard knows the leg south and down towards the west coast and CP4 at Patea very well. The other John will lead the leg to the finish along the southern Taranaki coast, up through the Parapara Valley and Tongariro National Park to the finish back in Turangi. The organisers have given out a list of 24 hour fuel stops along the way, plus a few that open at other times, so some calculations are done with respect to where and when we might need to stop for fuel. Although Richard has the best range on his BMW 1200GS, my bike and John H's ZX10-R will probably be up to100 km short of that. However, we really need to refuel at the same time to keep in step with each other, even if it's only a "splash and dash". Hey ho, time for bed as it's the big day tomorrow!
THE BIG DAY OUT
A lie-in is called for as our start (Group 2) isn't until 3.03 p.m, which gives nearly 5 hours of daylight riding. A decent brunch late morning, then it's on to the diet of mainly dried fruit, nuts and so on to give a linear energy release and reduce the risk of unplanned comfort stops in inappropriate places!
Richard, me and Andy waiting for brunch
Gorgeous RZ 350 - sluuuurp!
After brunch, we ride over to Rusty Nuts headquarters to see what's going on, meet some of the other entrants and have a look at what other bikes are about. There are apparently about 70 entrants, although there have already been some withdrawals. The thing with the Grand Challenge is that there are nearly as many motives for doing the ride as there are entrants. Some enter on small capacity bikes, just to make the ride REALLY interesting. Some enter on gas-guzzling 2-strokes to make life hard for themselves and that variety is part of the joy of the GC. Here are a small selection of some of the bikes:
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Yamaha R1. Another sheepskin but oh, those low bars and high pegs!
ZX 1400, Concours and Multistrada, mile-munchers at pace
Moto Morini Corsaro 1200 - unbelievably loud Termignonis
Nice long-range fuel cell on a Bandit - serious stuff
John P and John H arrive early afternoon , check in and proceed straight to scrutineering. Both bikes pass with flying colours.
John H anxiously watching the VERY thorough check
A short meeting then follows to discuss the route and the proposals for leading the different legs are confirmed, as are the proposed fuel stops.
Andy, John H, John P and Richard discussing strategy
John H's ZX 10-R and John P's ZX 9-R in background
Two hours to go to our start and the seconds tick by very slowly. The atmosphere is typical of all Grand Challenges as the riders start to "Zone In". No raucous laughter, just quiet chatter among small groups, many just laying in the shade alone with their thoughts.
Andy meditating for a few minutes
John P, John H and Andy chilling with their bikes
Two thirty comes round and it's time for the briefing by the GC organisers. Lee Hurley, head honcho, talks about expected weather conditions - fine, but it's going to be very windy as we move east and heavy rain sometime around daylight out west. Well, at least the only (big) positive is that it's not going to piss down in the dark like so many of these runs. He then reminds us that this is not a race, it's all about the personal challenge so ride within your limits and take extra care in the areas where slips are still being cleaned up and watch out for lichen on some backroads. Isn't it refreshing in these litigious days where personal responsibility still rests with the participants, and is accepted by them?
Machiavelli reincarnated - Lee Hurley
The Rusty Nuts organising team - super organised, super low key and super helpful
Riders being briefed
Lee then mentions that when the colour cards allocated to each group of starters are held aloft from 3pm, it's time to get on with the job in hand. Finally, he announces the winners of the raffle and I'm staggered to find that I'm the recipient of some fantastic Oxford brand throwover saddle bags!! How cool is that? I never win anything!! Back to the bikes to kit up, a lot of us throwing on Icebreaker brand merino undershirts as they are the best of the best in both hot and cold conditions. Time for a quick handshake among all of our group and onto the bikes to await the start cards to be raised.
The first card is raised at 3pm and Group 1 depart. The 3 minutes until our departure seems more like 3 hours in our heightened state of awareness until finally, the green card goes up and so it begins....
I lead off south on State Highway1 and we almost immediately begin climbing up to the Desert Road at around 2800 ft altitude. Not your normal desert, a barren volcanic ash plateau which surrounds the active volcanoes of Tongariro National Park. Only fit for military manoeuvres and a few wild horses. Godless place in bad weather but today in warm, sunny conditions, the snow on the volcanoes makes for a breathtaking backdrop.
Mt Ngauruhoe from Desert Road - altitutude 7500 ft
The group concentrate on settling into a reasonably quick pace, but one which can be maintained without fatigue. Suddenly, the radar detector goes off and a highway patrol car can just be seen in the far distance. The universal hand signals for cops go up among all the riders in the vicinity. As we slowly close, the cop pulls over and stops, turning off his radar too. Maybe he knows about the ride, maybe he's more keen on nicking errant cage drivers, who knows? A welcome gesture, whatever the reason.
Approaching Mangaweka, the GPS indicates a turn to the east and the start of narrow roads and inhospitable country. None of us have been down here before so it's going to be quite an experience. Almost immediately, I wonder whether I've programmed the GPS correctly as the road is narrow, rough and covered with a fine clay dust which has been falling from the bluffs on one side of the road. It isn't long before we come upon the Moto Morini rider. He's had a lowside on the clay but apart from one side of his bike (and him) being covered in road dirt, everything else seems ok and he tags onto the back of the group. I'm conscious that we want to maximise distance in daylight so keep up a decent, but stress-free pace. The GPS seems to be working really well and it's surprisingly comforting. This area east of SH1 is honeycombed with tiny roads leading in all directions and for people who don't know the area and just using maps or the route instructions, the potential to lose time is quite high. Not that there's much time for sightseeing, but the terrain is astoundingly beautiful and several of us remark later that we must re-visit with our better halves.
There's a time check (safety check in case people got lost?) at Ashurst, the end of this twisty section, then through the Manawatu Gorge to Woodville for the first fuel stop. Leaving Woodville, the wind is building noticeably as we continue to head east and entering the next set of twisties, it's pretty diabolical. Bikes are getting blown around with the swirling gusts and extreme care is needed when leaned over (i.e most of the time!). Richard has the map pocket on his fuel tank torn off the velcro and slap him in the helmet, it's that windy! Equally bad on both the mountain range valleys and going over the saddles - guess that's why there's a huge wind farm near the Manawatu Gorge!
Coming round a corner just east of Pahiatua, I spot a bike with hazard lights on and start slowing. Just round the next bend, there's the appalling sight of a rider laying prone on the road with his bike on its side. Some riders are already on the scene and fellow blogger Bandit Rider (Andrew) is one of the first two bikes to arrive. Miraculously, one of the other riders there is a doctor and is applying care. I ask whether any additional assistance is required but one of the guys says that emergency services have been notified. We carry on badly shaken, all of us thinking that it could easily have been us. Only considerably later do we find that the rider had suffered a medical condition. As a postscript, the rider was rushed to hospital and was sent home a few days later. Profound relief for everyone and every good wish to the rider.
Dusk is settling in and every time we dive down into one of the deep valleys, it gets worse. A horrible time for riding as the headlights never seem to work particularly well in these transition conditions. Adding to the stress is the odd cow and other livestock wandering about on the roadside which are hard to spot in the endless twisties. There's a lot of flooding in the fields adjacent to the road, testament to the terrible weather a couple of days ago. With it becoming fully dark, the Osram Nightbreaker headlight bulbs fitted to most of the bikes for the ride really come into their own. Nothing at all wrong with the Triple's lights on this run! CP1 at Waipukurau is reached without further drama and my 409 km stint in the lead comes to an end at around 8pm. Now I can relax and follow Andy, who will lead us up north to CP2 in Gisborne.
After some sustenance and a drink, Andy leads off and I drop towards the rear. The Morini rider is just in front of me and we've been joined at the rear by a VStrom rider who linked up half way through the previous leg. Andy is setting a great pace on an open, sweeping road, only easing back a little when a vehicle comes the other way out of the pitch blackness in case it's the Highway Patrol. I'm the only one with a radar detector and being near the rear, I'm as useless as tits on a bull. There's something really comforting about following other tail lights in the dark, really taking the stress off and it looks really cool too. However, the first irritation starts to emerge. That Morini with its Termignoni pipes is REALLY loud despite the use of ear plugs and whilst listening to it for a short while is great, it starts to get bloody annoying before too long and becomes a distraction.
We reach the city of Hastings and Andy (remember his confident local knowledge of the area?) confidently manages to guide us to a dead end in the middle of a housing estate. Other members of the group laugh out loud at the irony (nothing like showing no mercy to a great mate). Fortunately, my GPS is showing the way out of the dilemma and I take the lead for a couple of km until we get back on track. It's here that Karma bites me in the arse for laughing. As we turn onto the corect route, I'm looking in the mirror for Andy to resume the lead. What I've failed to notice is a sort of pavement extension just round the corner sticking out a little into the road. Fortunately, the sides are sloping rather than vertical and the Triumph leaps over it motocross-style to the immediate hilarity of all who see my inattention. No damage apart to my dignity, but it's a wake-up call to concentrate in the blackness. Overall the two stuff-ups have provided some comic relief so it's not all bad! The section from Napier to Wairoa where the road goes through a series of gorges gives an indication of what's to come. Water seeps across the road in many places from the cliffs, mixed with clay from the heavy rains just 2 days earlier - a treacherous combination. Andy's riding is inspired and he sets just the right pace and takes perfect lines to minimise risk. Unfortunately, the same can't be said for the Morini rider who lags behind on the straights and closes right up on the bends, taking some strange lines into the bargain. It would be quite unfair to label him a poor rider but he's different and maybe not as smooth as the rest of us who ride regularly together and it's breaking up the natural flow of the group watching out for him and wondering what he's going to do. It harks back to the implicit trust we have among the regular riding group. This issue was to be remarked on by other members of the group several times later in the journey.
Soon we arrive at Wairoa and stop for a quick safety "splash and dash" as CP2 in Gisborne might be towards the edge of the range of some of the bikes. It's from Wairoa that Andy really earns his keep as group leader. Rather than going up the main coast road, the route calls for us to head inland up Tiniroto Road. We came through here on a trip earlier in the year so know what to expect. Continuously twisty for the best part of 100 km, maybe 4 metres or so wide, generally poor road markings and slips - eek! Andy makes it look easy although the personal toll on him trailblazing up front must be pretty high. He sets a good pace but is so smooth in his actions that line changes to avoid slips, rocks or other obstructions are hardly noticeable and stress levels remain low, thanks to his great lead. We roll into Gisborne somewhere just around midnight (I think), check in, gas up, have more sustenance and put on more clothing for the long night ahead. Andy has dragged us through just under 300 km of what were potentally hazardous conditions with little seeming effort - bloody magnificent.
Dusk is settling in and every time we dive down into one of the deep valleys, it gets worse. A horrible time for riding as the headlights never seem to work particularly well in these transition conditions. Adding to the stress is the odd cow and other livestock wandering about on the roadside which are hard to spot in the endless twisties. There's a lot of flooding in the fields adjacent to the road, testament to the terrible weather a couple of days ago. With it becoming fully dark, the Osram Nightbreaker headlight bulbs fitted to most of the bikes for the ride really come into their own. Nothing at all wrong with the Triple's lights on this run! CP1 at Waipukurau is reached without further drama and my 409 km stint in the lead comes to an end at around 8pm. Now I can relax and follow Andy, who will lead us up north to CP2 in Gisborne.
After some sustenance and a drink, Andy leads off and I drop towards the rear. The Morini rider is just in front of me and we've been joined at the rear by a VStrom rider who linked up half way through the previous leg. Andy is setting a great pace on an open, sweeping road, only easing back a little when a vehicle comes the other way out of the pitch blackness in case it's the Highway Patrol. I'm the only one with a radar detector and being near the rear, I'm as useless as tits on a bull. There's something really comforting about following other tail lights in the dark, really taking the stress off and it looks really cool too. However, the first irritation starts to emerge. That Morini with its Termignoni pipes is REALLY loud despite the use of ear plugs and whilst listening to it for a short while is great, it starts to get bloody annoying before too long and becomes a distraction.
We reach the city of Hastings and Andy (remember his confident local knowledge of the area?) confidently manages to guide us to a dead end in the middle of a housing estate. Other members of the group laugh out loud at the irony (nothing like showing no mercy to a great mate). Fortunately, my GPS is showing the way out of the dilemma and I take the lead for a couple of km until we get back on track. It's here that Karma bites me in the arse for laughing. As we turn onto the corect route, I'm looking in the mirror for Andy to resume the lead. What I've failed to notice is a sort of pavement extension just round the corner sticking out a little into the road. Fortunately, the sides are sloping rather than vertical and the Triumph leaps over it motocross-style to the immediate hilarity of all who see my inattention. No damage apart to my dignity, but it's a wake-up call to concentrate in the blackness. Overall the two stuff-ups have provided some comic relief so it's not all bad! The section from Napier to Wairoa where the road goes through a series of gorges gives an indication of what's to come. Water seeps across the road in many places from the cliffs, mixed with clay from the heavy rains just 2 days earlier - a treacherous combination. Andy's riding is inspired and he sets just the right pace and takes perfect lines to minimise risk. Unfortunately, the same can't be said for the Morini rider who lags behind on the straights and closes right up on the bends, taking some strange lines into the bargain. It would be quite unfair to label him a poor rider but he's different and maybe not as smooth as the rest of us who ride regularly together and it's breaking up the natural flow of the group watching out for him and wondering what he's going to do. It harks back to the implicit trust we have among the regular riding group. This issue was to be remarked on by other members of the group several times later in the journey.
Soon we arrive at Wairoa and stop for a quick safety "splash and dash" as CP2 in Gisborne might be towards the edge of the range of some of the bikes. It's from Wairoa that Andy really earns his keep as group leader. Rather than going up the main coast road, the route calls for us to head inland up Tiniroto Road. We came through here on a trip earlier in the year so know what to expect. Continuously twisty for the best part of 100 km, maybe 4 metres or so wide, generally poor road markings and slips - eek! Andy makes it look easy although the personal toll on him trailblazing up front must be pretty high. He sets a good pace but is so smooth in his actions that line changes to avoid slips, rocks or other obstructions are hardly noticeable and stress levels remain low, thanks to his great lead. We roll into Gisborne somewhere just around midnight (I think), check in, gas up, have more sustenance and put on more clothing for the long night ahead. Andy has dragged us through just under 300 km of what were potentally hazardous conditions with little seeming effort - bloody magnificent.
Now it's John P's turn to guide us through the next 350 km leg to CP3 at Karapiro just south of Cambridge, the most northerly point on the route. The first challenge is the Waioeka Gorge which was closed due to massive slips just 2 days ago. John rides fast but smoothly, gently easing back as he comes across hazards which gives the rest of us time to react with plenty of time. This makes for a really pleasant ride because of the implicit trust in John and the 140-odd km long gorge is disposed of in quick time. The only problem for the naked bikes is that there's a fairly strong headwind which makes holding on tightly pretty tiring!
However, another drama is about to unfold. There's supposed to be a 24 hour gas station in Opotoki which was going to be used as a "splash and dash" to Karapiro. Oh dear, it's closed and although there may be one that nearby that we don't know about, the decision is taken to go into economy riding mode and gas up in Rotorua, some 140 km distant. A bit of a stretch, but just about do-able. We set off and run into a bit of mist which coats my visor, but nothing too alarming. A bit further down the road, some of the group peel off to the nearby settlement of Kawerau as they think that Rotorua might be a bridge too far. The rest of us carry on,with John waiting for a while to allow the others to catch up. We arrange to all meet at the BP gas station in Rotorua. My fuel light comes on at approximately 260 km and with about 20+ km to go, my backside starts to twitch. It's at times like this when you realise that rural NZ is a lonely place at night, with nothing on the road but the GC riders. I creep into Rotorua and reach the gas station, getting just over 14 litres into the tank. If my math is correct at that time of the night, there's over 2 litres left in the tank and if it's all useable, I would have achieved over 300 km to a tank. Pretty darned fine for a Street Triple, even with fairly gentle throttle control over the last 140 km. We're all reunited some 20 minutes later and set off for CP3. A really fast transit as this is John's normal riding territory and he does a fantastic job of towing us along! Refuel, log in with the Rustys manning the checkpoint and snatch some food and drink. First light is less than 2 hours away and the spirits are starting to lift. Interestingly, the GPS provided quite a psychological lift for me in the dark, watching the little triangle (me) steadily moving round the map! And another thing.... we've now covered 1046 km and my arse is still in fantastic condition thanks to the Airhawk pad I fitted for the ride. Some of my mates are now standing on the pegs whilst riding along on a regular basis to get relief, hehe!
However, another drama is about to unfold. There's supposed to be a 24 hour gas station in Opotoki which was going to be used as a "splash and dash" to Karapiro. Oh dear, it's closed and although there may be one that nearby that we don't know about, the decision is taken to go into economy riding mode and gas up in Rotorua, some 140 km distant. A bit of a stretch, but just about do-able. We set off and run into a bit of mist which coats my visor, but nothing too alarming. A bit further down the road, some of the group peel off to the nearby settlement of Kawerau as they think that Rotorua might be a bridge too far. The rest of us carry on,with John waiting for a while to allow the others to catch up. We arrange to all meet at the BP gas station in Rotorua. My fuel light comes on at approximately 260 km and with about 20+ km to go, my backside starts to twitch. It's at times like this when you realise that rural NZ is a lonely place at night, with nothing on the road but the GC riders. I creep into Rotorua and reach the gas station, getting just over 14 litres into the tank. If my math is correct at that time of the night, there's over 2 litres left in the tank and if it's all useable, I would have achieved over 300 km to a tank. Pretty darned fine for a Street Triple, even with fairly gentle throttle control over the last 140 km. We're all reunited some 20 minutes later and set off for CP3. A really fast transit as this is John's normal riding territory and he does a fantastic job of towing us along! Refuel, log in with the Rustys manning the checkpoint and snatch some food and drink. First light is less than 2 hours away and the spirits are starting to lift. Interestingly, the GPS provided quite a psychological lift for me in the dark, watching the little triangle (me) steadily moving round the map! And another thing.... we've now covered 1046 km and my arse is still in fantastic condition thanks to the Airhawk pad I fitted for the ride. Some of my mates are now standing on the pegs whilst riding along on a regular basis to get relief, hehe!
Richard and John P at 1046 km and still smiling!
Richard takes the lead for the 320 km leg down to Taranaki Province and CP4 as it's a region he knows particularly well. Someone with reasonable local knowledge up front has worked extremely well although it has to be said the trust between all 5 riders is probably the single most important factor to have made the ride so enjoyable. Much of the leg consists of interconnected sweepers which is rather pleasant for tiring bodies after the previous conditions! We pull into Te Kuiti to refuel in early daylight and this gives a real mental uplift. Time has got a bit distorted and it feels much later than daybreak.
Richard is setting errrr... a "brisk" but totally safe pace and we're munching up the miles. Going through the magnificent Awakino Gorge is more like a hooligan day ride than towards the end of a long haul which is great fun and breaks up the routine a bit. However, some confusion reigns over Mt. Messenger. Just over the summit, John H pulls into a rest area for a comfort stop. Andy goes with him and John P and I pull in a little further down the road. Out front, Richard doesn't see this happening and carries on for a bit before stopping for a while. Because rain is threatening, Richard decides to cruise on down to CP4 in Patea and wait there. Soon, the rest of us get underway again and near New Plymouth, the rain comes down in torrents, and plenty of wind to go with it. John H stops to pull on full wets over his Goretex and the rest carry on towards CP4, which isn't too far away. By now, the empty roads have got a little busier and the reputation of Taranaki Province for its dairy industry is reinforced with the high number of milk tankers on the road. In short, they're a bloody pain, throwing vast amounts of road spray everywhere and getting safely past is a bit of a nightmare. A bit of time has been lost since the heavy rain set in and after a wait at CP4, Richard decides to continue on his own. As we check in, the rain eases and we get ready to tackle the final 240 km to the finish.
John H takes over and with drying roads and a strong rearward wind, we fair scoot along the southern Taranaki coast. John is particularly vigilant for the Highway Patrol on this stretch, but they don't seem to be out of bed yet. Turning north in Wanganui, we enter the Paraparas. This is motorcycling heaven - a twisting road 90 - odd km long at the bottom of a gorge. John attacks it like a normal day ride and it's great for keeping the concentration levels up as the finish beckons. We encounter a boulder in the middle of the road which is the size of a car engine block - a good reminder to keep observational skills up. However, the pace combined with the very strong headwind is giving Andy and me on the naked bikes a bit of a tough time (oh, ok, we're knackered!). The two of us pull over at the Raetihi gas station for a few minutes to coax some life back into seriously aching wrists and fingers before getting underway again.
Gaining altitude as we enter the Tongariro National Park, the weather packs up big time, with torrential rain, high winds and plummeting temperatures. Pretty darned unpleasant on tired bodies but the bikes handle the conditions with no dramas whatever. Andy says later that he's fascinated with the huge volume of water that the tread pattern on my rear Avon Storm Ultra is displacing. They're certainly a fantastic tyre in wet weather and pretty darned good in the dry too. Soon, we see a sign saying Turangi 10 km and I can't help grinning like a lunatic. In what seems like only a minute or two after seeing that sign, we're rolling into the finish, 21 1/4 hours after setting out. No punching the air or anything crass like that, just handshakes between us and a well-done from the Rusty organiser who comes to check our odometers.
We stagger inside, ditch our wet rain gear and collect our badges from Lee Hurley to a feeling of enormous pride, not to mention relief! The Rustys have a huge pot of steaming stew and dumplings on the go for all the returning riders - absolute perfection given the conditions outside. John H says that the only thing which doesn't hurt is "this", pointing to the tip of his nose! The rest of of us hurt in various places, my problem being in the fingers through hanging onto the bars tightly in very gusty conditions. Can't be helped with a naked bike on a run like this but we'll all recover quickly.
Mission accomplished and a shower and nice warm bed beckon!
As a matter of note, the 1000 mile in 24 hours rides in NZ take place on twisty 2 lane backroads to make them a genuine challenge, especially in the dark as there is always about 11 hours of riding in these conditions. There's a short video here: Grand Challenge of part of one daylight section posted by fellow Kiwi blogger Andrew after completing his 10th 1000-miler, plus a dusk section HERE. Not an easy ride!
SOME PERSONAL THOUGHTS
Richard is setting errrr... a "brisk" but totally safe pace and we're munching up the miles. Going through the magnificent Awakino Gorge is more like a hooligan day ride than towards the end of a long haul which is great fun and breaks up the routine a bit. However, some confusion reigns over Mt. Messenger. Just over the summit, John H pulls into a rest area for a comfort stop. Andy goes with him and John P and I pull in a little further down the road. Out front, Richard doesn't see this happening and carries on for a bit before stopping for a while. Because rain is threatening, Richard decides to cruise on down to CP4 in Patea and wait there. Soon, the rest of us get underway again and near New Plymouth, the rain comes down in torrents, and plenty of wind to go with it. John H stops to pull on full wets over his Goretex and the rest carry on towards CP4, which isn't too far away. By now, the empty roads have got a little busier and the reputation of Taranaki Province for its dairy industry is reinforced with the high number of milk tankers on the road. In short, they're a bloody pain, throwing vast amounts of road spray everywhere and getting safely past is a bit of a nightmare. A bit of time has been lost since the heavy rain set in and after a wait at CP4, Richard decides to continue on his own. As we check in, the rain eases and we get ready to tackle the final 240 km to the finish.
John H takes over and with drying roads and a strong rearward wind, we fair scoot along the southern Taranaki coast. John is particularly vigilant for the Highway Patrol on this stretch, but they don't seem to be out of bed yet. Turning north in Wanganui, we enter the Paraparas. This is motorcycling heaven - a twisting road 90 - odd km long at the bottom of a gorge. John attacks it like a normal day ride and it's great for keeping the concentration levels up as the finish beckons. We encounter a boulder in the middle of the road which is the size of a car engine block - a good reminder to keep observational skills up. However, the pace combined with the very strong headwind is giving Andy and me on the naked bikes a bit of a tough time (oh, ok, we're knackered!). The two of us pull over at the Raetihi gas station for a few minutes to coax some life back into seriously aching wrists and fingers before getting underway again.
Gaining altitude as we enter the Tongariro National Park, the weather packs up big time, with torrential rain, high winds and plummeting temperatures. Pretty darned unpleasant on tired bodies but the bikes handle the conditions with no dramas whatever. Andy says later that he's fascinated with the huge volume of water that the tread pattern on my rear Avon Storm Ultra is displacing. They're certainly a fantastic tyre in wet weather and pretty darned good in the dry too. Soon, we see a sign saying Turangi 10 km and I can't help grinning like a lunatic. In what seems like only a minute or two after seeing that sign, we're rolling into the finish, 21 1/4 hours after setting out. No punching the air or anything crass like that, just handshakes between us and a well-done from the Rusty organiser who comes to check our odometers.
We stagger inside, ditch our wet rain gear and collect our badges from Lee Hurley to a feeling of enormous pride, not to mention relief! The Rustys have a huge pot of steaming stew and dumplings on the go for all the returning riders - absolute perfection given the conditions outside. John H says that the only thing which doesn't hurt is "this", pointing to the tip of his nose! The rest of of us hurt in various places, my problem being in the fingers through hanging onto the bars tightly in very gusty conditions. Can't be helped with a naked bike on a run like this but we'll all recover quickly.
5 minutes after finishing - grimace or smile?
Mission accomplished and a shower and nice warm bed beckon!
As a matter of note, the 1000 mile in 24 hours rides in NZ take place on twisty 2 lane backroads to make them a genuine challenge, especially in the dark as there is always about 11 hours of riding in these conditions. There's a short video here: Grand Challenge of part of one daylight section posted by fellow Kiwi blogger Andrew after completing his 10th 1000-miler, plus a dusk section HERE. Not an easy ride!
SOME PERSONAL THOUGHTS
- At one day short of my 63rd birthday, I'd answered whether my body was still up to it with a resounding YES! Sore fingers were fine the following day and apart from being a little tired, that was about it. Preparing for the ride as detailed in some previous blog posts clearly paid off. Interestingly, I think my mental strength was better than any previous Grand Challenge. Mental outlook is a huge part of getting through this ride.
- Riding with treasured friends. Doing it solo wouldn't have given me anywhere near the same buzz as the shared experience and it further strengthens already strong bonds of friendship and trust. Each one of my mates were simply outstanding in the lead which took a lot of stress off those behind them.
- Night riding on unfamiliar territory was ok because we'd all upgraded our headlights from the OEM bulbs. Getting out and testing them in the twisties before the ride was essential.
- The Street Triple - what can I say? Apart from the obvious wind-blast from a naked bike, I was in better shape on finishing the ride than previous rides on the BMW K100RS and the Blackbird. Lack of a numb bum was almost entirely due to the Airhawk pneumatic seat pad. An extreme test of any product. The fairly upright riding position took the load off the wrists and the light weight and fairly agressive steering geometry made 1000 miles of corners a breeze, as opposed to having to wrestle bigger, heavier bikes over that distance. No scary moments whatsoever. Before the ride, I honestly thought I'd be writing about huge levels of pain and exhaustion but it wasn't like that at all. OK, it isn't a good choice for prolonged 2-up riding but after replacing the OEM bulbs with Osram Nightbreakers, the Street Triple is a potent long-distance motorcycle.
- The Rusty Nuts organising committee and helpers. Terrific people. Complete absence of beauracracy, unfailingly friendly and helpful, tough as nails and never fail to set a course that stretches you and then some. They always stress personal responsibility and amen to that. The two friends who hadn't previously done a Grand Challenge both said that it was the most memorable ride of their lives.
- It really sharpens your riding skills. Riding the 350-odd km home after the event, I was in continuous "Zen" riding mode with heightened observational and riding skills - like I was on rails. That's what extended periods of absolute concentration do for you! Guess fellow blogger Gary Francis will understand this as a result of his mammoth ride across the USA.
- Will I do it again? Every time I finish a Grand Challenge, it's "never again", so who knows? Will need new motivator though although riding with great mates is always a pretty good one!
My badge for 5 Grand Challenges - rather proud of that
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