A 1000 miles in 24 hours !

The Tokoroa contingent hasn’t done a Grand Challenge 1000 miles in less than 24 hours ride since 1999. The pain of previous rides hasn’t diminished much over time and conversations about doing another one have been short-lived affairs! This is mainly due to the lads having purchased machines with more sporty riding positions since the last ride. The possibility of knee and wrist surgery at the end of the ride doesn’t hold much appeal. What a pathetic bunch of wimps!

Cracks start to appear in the resolve not to do another one when it is discovered that ex-Tokoroa and now Hamilton resident Paul Quilter has a completed entry form sitting at home. Hmmmm…. serious loss of face if Paul does it on his K1100RS and the rest of us don’t – we’ll have that one rubbed in forever! Emails and conversations start flying back and forth, trying to talk the event up to each other, despite everyone’s knowledge that it’s never going to get any easier. Geoff James thinks it’s a dumb way to spend his 56^th birthday, when he could be filling up on good food and wine, but doesn’t want to offer it up as an excuse and get an entirely predictable reaction!

Lance, with a new GSX-R 1000 decides not to enter as he’ll be stopping for gas every 200 k or so; which could be tricky in the middle of the night, miles from anywhere. Memories of the organiser’s penchant for sending the riders down some tiny unlit pea gravel-strewn road in the middle of nowhere at 3 am doesn’t offer much in the way of reassurance! Geoff knows that riding the Blackbird is going to hurt a lot more than his old BMW, but in a moment of stunning stupidity, decides to enter anyway just to see if he can last for 24 hours with a sporting riding position on roads which roughly equate to “B” or “C” standard in Europe! John Patterson also enters on his Hayabusa at the last moment after chewing it over for some time.

Entries are sent off and confirmation received. The event starts at 3pm on Saturday, October 18^th with riders sent off at intervals to spread them out on the road. Paul, John and Geoff are due to start from the start point in Turangi in positions 19, 20 and 21 at 3.18 p.m. Plenty of time to reflect on the pain to come and make half-hearted attempts to get fit!

Geoff fits 100 W bulbs and heated handgrips (a surprise present from Jennie!) to the ‘bird and fiddles with the brake and clutch lever positions in an attempt to make the ride more comfortable. A sheepskin seat cover has also been fitted to ease bum pain All 3 riders are seriously underdone with very little riding undertaken through an exceedingly wet NZ winter and no practice long haul rides at all. This is going to be a very interesting ride, all things considered and butterflies start to build over the week preceding the event!

aturday 18^th October, Pre-ride
Paul and Geoff travel down to the start/finish point of Turangi the previous evening, staying in cabins from where the event is run. They get their scrutineering over and done with that evening, which is one less thing to worry about on the day of the ride. The organisers don’t take a current fitness certificate at face value and the bikes are subjected to an extremely thorough safety check, including putting the front wheel on a sensitive turntable to check headstock bearings.

Saturday morning sees Lee the organiser post the course and whilst none of the courses are ever easy, this one is a real bastard! Instead of a big loop out and back, Lee and his mates have put Turangi in the centre of 4 out and back legs, running roughly north, south, east and west. This means more check-ins and even worse, the pull of warm beds at the cabins in Turangi is going to be very hard to resist as the riders pass through at the end of each leg! The last leg from Turangi to the tiny coastal settlement of Kawhia is going to be a shocker. Kawhia is at the end of a narrow, pea gravel-strewn road around 44 kilometres long with no straights whatsoever and blind bends everywhere. Non-stop brake, clutch and throttle action! As Lee says later in the briefing, “Modern bikes are hard to break, so we’re going to break your hearts and minds this time”. Lovely guy!

Time passes and John turns up in the early afternoon. He’s been dragged into work in the morning and isn’t in the best frame of mind. In fact, he’s mentally thinking that even if any minor thing is discovered during scrutineering, it might be the last straw that pushes him to ride straight home again! Paul is also a bit “iffy”. He recently returned from business in England and has been in bed for several days recovering from flu-like symptoms and is a bit weak and wobbly. At least the weather is close to perfect, which is one less thing to worry about. Most bikes have sheepskins on the seats to give the riders a bit more protection from numb bums. Geoff reflects on the piss-taking he’s had to endure from UK riders on the Blackbird website who have read previous accounts of NZ 1000 mile rides and are planning to do a long haul event in 2004. They’ll be sorry!

Early afternoon and Lee holds a briefing for the riders, which are comprised of roughly 50/50 newcomers and riders who have done the ride before making a total somewhere in the mid-80’s. Two riders are in it to complete their 10^th consecutive ride and another is completing his 17^th overall ride – bloody hell, impressive stuff or more likely complete insanity!! Lee reminds everyone that it isn’t a race – the real battle is inside your head. He also tells the riders to ride safely, show consideration to others and stop and help if people need it – there will be no time penalties for giving assistance. The riders drift off to get kitted up and the laughing and joking is replaced with quiet reflection as the start time of 3pm for the first riders approaches. The 18 minutes between the first riders starting and the turn of John, Paul and Geoff pass in a blur and there is hardly time to do anything but shake hands before the “off”. It’s now time to deliver, and the only certainty is that it’s going to hurt !

Geoff leads off as he has a radar detector and the cops in NZ now have a quota system for issuing speeding tickets (all in the name of safety, ha!). It has been decided that one person will lead for the entirety of each leg of roughly 400 km. This will give the person up front time to dial in properly and allow the two followers the opportunity to relax somewhat. The route is roughly north alongside the picturesque Lake Taupo and to the south and east of Rotorua. The trio use the first 50 km or so to get into a routine of stretches and other exercises to delay the inevitable pain which hits all long distance riders and to settle into a steady pace which is a “wee bit” above the open road limit of 100 km/hr, but not so much as to attract undue attention from the Highway Patrol! After about an hour’s riding, the route heads for the back blocks around Murapara – heavily forested and well known for growing recreational substances! First checkpoint is at Galatea Hall, way out in the middle of nowhere. There are bikes heading in all directions trying to find the place and rumour has it that one rider rode all the way out to the East Coast having misread the instructions!

The trio check in at 4.50pm with no mishaps and no sooner have they taken off than they encounter a herd of cattle being taken across the road for milking. One of the natural hazards in NZ! Good job that they are on a straight piece of road or it could have been tricky! Paul provides some light amusement by accelerating hard after Geoff and hooking neutral – didn’t know Beemers could rev that high Paul! The scenery in this part of the ride is a mixture of forests, mountains to the east and lakes but there isn’t much time to take it in as concentrating on settling into a fast, even pace is essential. A few riders who set off earlier are passed and some later starters also pass the trio. However, no one bothers about it, as there is a long way to go yet. It’s things like minimising check-in times plus fuel and food stops that can make a huge difference to finishing inside the 24 hours rather than blasting all the way. Stopping for 10 minutes instead of 15 can make a difference of between 1 and 2 hours on total elapsed time depending on the number of stops made. A quick stop for fuel in the city of Rotorua and head south back to Turangi. Dusk is approaching and the view of Lake Taupo is stunning with the snow-topped active volcanoes in the background. Checkpoint 2 is back in Turangi is reached at around 7.35pm without any drama, drink and food being consumed in preparation for around 10 hours of riding in the dark. The decision is taken to take on fuel at the army settlement of Waiouru because of queues at the Turangi checkpoint. John suggests that warm gear is put on in readiness as the skies are clear and it can get pretty chilly in the small hours of an NZ spring.

eg 2-784km total distance elapsed
Checkpoint 3 is in the university city of Palmerston North and Paul leads off into the dark, heading south on State Highway 1 to the Desert Road. The road climbs to an altitude of over 2000 ft by the Tongariro National Park, where the active volcanoes are situated. The heated grips used by all 3 riders are switched on to provide a bit of comfort. The area is covered in volcanic ash and tussock, a cold, lonely place which the army uses for manoeuvres. The checkpoint marshals have reminded everyone to take care in the northern gullies of the road where trucks have been spreading grit in case of frost. Nice for 4 wheeled vehicles, but deadly for bikes! Paul, who is setting a very smooth pace up front, negotiates these with no problem. A Yamaha T Max 500cc scooter which is on the ride is passed and it’s showing an impressive turn of speed. Then the fun starts! Geoff’s radar detector goes off which is useless as he’s at the back of the group. Fortunately, Paul happens to have backed off a wee bit and a patrol car emerges from the dark, the driver staring hard at the bikes. On stopping for fuel in the small settlement of Waiouru, the reason for the hard stare becomes apparent. Just as the lads are preparing to leave, a guy in leathers appears from behind the gas station on foot. The conversation goes something like this…… “Have you seen any cops?” “Errr….. yes, one gave us a real eyeballing a few k’s up the road, why?” “Umm, me and my mate were doing around 160k’s trying to catch up with some other riders and next thing we know, red and blue lights were going off so we decided to make ourselves scarce – dunno where my mate is!” Unbeknownst to his mate, he is apparently hiding across the road behind a small group of shops! Paul notices the scooter go past and jokes about it beating the big bikes home as it’s being ridden with great enthusiasm. The trio press on south, a bit rattled in case the cops have been stirred up down the line. A prophetic thought if ever there was one! A bit further down the road, Paul spots the outline of a car in the distance parked by the side of the road and buttons off. Just in time as it’s an occupied patrol car!

Half an hour later, the Vinegar Hill turn-off to Fielding and Palmerston North is approached and the trio can clearly see lots of stationary red and blue lights ablaze on the road which they are supposed to turn off onto. They hurriedly pull over for a quick conference and assume that Plod has set up a roadblock to hassle the riders because of possible earlier indiscretions. Not wishing to be detained for what might be a lengthy interrogation, they decide to take the next turn to Fielding just down the road to steer clear of trouble, also seeing an ambulance heading north with its lights on. They find out later that the Highway Patrol were there securing the scene after an accident involving one of the riders. Fortunately, one of the closely following riders is a doctor who renders assistance until an ambulance arrives. Thankfully, the injuries are not life threatening, a broken collarbone and some cracked ribs. The rest of the trip to checkpoint 3 is uneventful and is made in the company of around a dozen other riders whom they meet up with in Fielding. Because Palmerston North is a student city, the place is jumping when the riders arrive at 1015. There are lots of young people hooning about in noisy tin tops and several Plod have some cars bailed up in a side road.

John, having filled face with massive quantities of caffeine and cholesterol

A quick refuel plus food and drink and it’s time to re-trace the route back to Turangi. The return trip is a complete surprise as once out of the city, there is almost nothing on the roads, save for the bikes on the run and they are so spread out that there are few of them too. Even the Highway Patrol appears to be tucked up in bed for the night too, so speeds are upped a bit. Near Waiouru, the group are passed by some other riders who then pull in for gas and as Paul didn’t fill up in Palmerston North, so does everyone else. A bit of chitchat follows and as it is now 11.58 pm, one of the other riders announces that he will be 50 in 2 minutes! Geoff mentions that he is 56 today and mutual congratulations are offered with “What a way to be spending a birthday!”

Everyone continues north onto the Desert Road. It’s a cold, still night with stars ablaze everywhere and nothing in sight except for the bikes. Speeds are upped (in the interests of avoiding hypothermia by making rapid transit of course) to the point where the riders would most certainly be walking for 6 months if they were caught. Safety in numbers is comforting! There is something almost magical about travelling very fast on a starlit night. As the riders drop off the plateau, they experience instant external visor fogging, which is a bit hairy at the speeds they’re travelling at. Must be something to do with the dew point when descending from altitude into warmer temperatures. At about 12.40 am, everyone reaches checkpoint 4 at Turangi. An excellent lead by Paul. They chat with a GS1200 rider on his first 1000 miler. He’s having a great time and is exceptionally well prepared with a nice thick sheepskin and a water-filled backpack so that he can drink on the move – smart guy! Hmmmm…. a nice beer and a warm bed would be quite pleasant after the adventures of this leg.

All the creature comforts – big sheepskin and water backpack

eg 3 - 1174 total distance elapsed
The next leg is to Napier on the east coast which is reached by heading north by Lake Taupo (not again!) and then east. John takes the lead on this leg, as he knows the road well. Fog is encountered in a few spots that causes quite a few problems for the riders and John runs with his visor open for a fair distance. Not being able to see in pitch-blackness at speed is pretty scary! However, John sets a smooth pace and the other two are able to relax whilst following him – one of the real pleasures in riding in a group with similar styles. The riders drop off the hills down to vineyard country just outside the city limits and see an eerie spectacle. There’s an old wooden shed between the road and the vines and it is completely and utterly ablaze with no one in sight. It looks like something from a movie featuring the Klu Klux Klan! Geoff thinks about stopping to take a photo, but feels uncomfortable about it and everyone carries on to checkpoint 5 a few km down the road, reaching it at around 2.45 am. Two fire appliances come flying by on their way to the fire. More fuel, drink and food and its time to re-trace the route back to Turangi. And darn it, there’s that scooter again! Paul receives some good-natured ribbing and comparisons are drawn between Mr. Bean and his nemesis, the Reliant Robin!

The riders pass the embers of the shed which the fire brigade have attended to and off into the night. Details are sketchy, but it’s heard later that another rider has binned his machine somewhere up here in the hills and everyone feels great sympathy, as some of the corners are quite tricky. As Taupo gets closer and the road straightens out, John lifts the pace to well, ummmm… quickish for km after km. The trio would definitely be walking if caught, but the road is deserted. Again, that great feeling of going fast in the dark with nothing else about. Bikes are encountered going the other way down to Napier. A lot of the big cruisers have an impressive array of lights up front and clearly, travelling fast in the dark is an absolute breeze. However, with eyeballs melting through being on the receiving end of all this wattage, there are mental questions about whether these things can actually be dipped, or whether a bit of discourtesy is being shown. Down past bloody Lake Taupo again to Turangi and checkpoint 6, arriving at about 4.55am. A fast, safe passage which was superbly led by John. More fuel taken on board and in John’s case, more caffeine and hot pies, which he is starting to get heartily sick of !

eg 4 - 1618 total distance elapsed
Lee and his fellow organisers have excelled themselves this time, leaving the road which takes the heaviest toll on rider’s bodies until last, when most of them are in fairly poor shape already. The helpful warning by the checkpoint marshals to watch out for pea gravel on the Otorohanga – Kawhia section does nothing to steady the nerves. Geoff takes off on his first stint of leading in the dark. Up in the twisties towards Taumaranui, the limitations of the Blackbird headlight become apparent, with dip having a very sharp cut-off making cornering a cautious exercise. Fortunately, he has recently fitted 100W bulbs which help a fair bit and with the lack of traffic coming the other way, main beam can be used for long periods. John, in a moment of thinking about other things, finds himself dropping off the back of the group and also experiences a sharp cut-off problem on dipped beam on his Hayabusa when trying to re-join. Must be a problem with a lot of modern bikes.

Coming round a bend near Taumaranui, Geoff finds a possum right on his line and has to take hurried evasive action, fortunately with no drama. The other two don’t see it at all so it might have shot back into the bush. Hitting furry things, woolly things and even big horny things on the road in NZ darkness is always a distinct possibility and a watchful eye is essential.

Hare today, gone tomorrow………

Dawn arrives near Te Kuiti and bodies are starting to hurt big time. Wrists and hands are the most common ailments although some bike-specific pains are also present. A quick sprint up the road to Otorohanga and then it’s due west to the tiny coastal settlement of Kawhia. Paul takes the lead after Geoff stuffs up the turn off the main road which is also good, as Paul knows the road pretty well. Politely put, the road is a complete bastard – about 44 km of narrow bumpy road with no straight bits at all. Sheer drops on some parts of the road protected by low Armco barrier aren’t very comforting either. Constant gear changes, braking and changing throttle position is a killer for bodies which are already totally stuffed. The marshals weren’t kidding when they mentioned pea gravel and losing concentration at this stage is a recipe for disaster. The lads close in on a pair of Goldwings being well ridden. With their big banks of red rear lights in the early morning light, they look like vehicles from a Star Wars movie! Paul does a great job of leading the trio into Kawhia at about 7.40 a.m. After checking in and filling the tanks, the lads have a leisurely stroll round to the waterfront to stretch the bodies and return to find Paul’s nemesis, the scooter parked up! Not long afterwards, the scooter heads for home and pleas are made to John to hurry up and get his gear on and head for the finish in Turangi.

Kawhia harbour and John making a fashion statement in yellow plastic

The trip back out is extremely painful and not helped by encountering a flock of sheep wandering along the road. Droppings and pea gravel… not a good combination! Half way through one of the tight bends, near-disaster strikes. Paul is in the lead, well leaned over and John suddenly sees a tiny patch of gravel shoot out from under Paul’s front wheel and the wheel starting to wash out, sliding a metre or more. Paul plants his boot onto the road in true dirt bike style (bit of a heavy trail bike though), in a vain attempt to “slide” the 300Kg monster. Then suddenly, the front tyre grips and flicks the whole bike upright and Paul finds himself on the wrong side of the road, running round a blind bend a few inches from the Armco. If there’s anything coming the other way, Paul is in serious trouble. With no left boot on the pegs, Paul is hurtled into the air, losing contact with the saddle. It must have been amusing for John following close behind. He recalled seeing the event in slow motion….” He’s low-siding, no it’s a high side, no he’s just going to hit whatever comes round the corner… whew!” Great relief when the situation is retrieved and the trio carry on out of this hellish section of the run.

A short way down the main road, the scooter has been passed, Paul is feeling quite relieved! Geoff goes up front for the final 160-odd km run to the finish in the company of a number of other bikes. He has to constantly remind himself to keep the concentration up and approximately 19 hours and 15 minutes after starting the ride; they ride safely into the final checkpoint. They’ve done it!!

After gingerly getting off the machines and having the speedo mileage checked, it’s a free beer and a great meal provided by the organisers. A quick bit of socialising and swapping yarns with other riders who have finished, and then it’s off to home about 150 km north for a bath and some shuteye. But not in Paul’s case….. not only does he have further to ride home, but he’s also under instructions to mow nearly an acre of lawn before day end. He truly is a hard bastard!

And the 1000 miler iron butt award goes to………

eflections
All the lads are in a fair bit of pain the next day after a very long sleep and people who have never done the Grand Challenge are perfectly entitled to ask the question

“WHY?”

Fun? Most certainly, but for most riders there is probably more to it than that. There is risk, uncertainty, knowledge that it’s going to hurt a fair bit, mental stress and a whole lot more things besides. They all add up to that word “Challenge”, the thing that reminds us that we’re alive and that we’re not merely passive observers of life.

Thanks Lee and all your helpers, we’ll be back.

2003 New Zealand Grand Challenge