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Readers Rides
New Zealand Rusty Nuts Motorcycle Club October 1996 – 1620 km in 23 hours 15 minutes
How it all started This
is not a tale for the faint-hearted, or for those with an overly moral
attitude to the words FUN and MOTORING
being used in the same sentence.
It’s amazing the lengths that some people will go to for a mental
and physical challenge! In
this instance, four friends from Tokoroa in the North Island of New
Zealand who share a life-long love of large capacity motorcycles wanted to
try something “a bit different”.
The idiots in question are Richard Shannon, (Yamaha FJ 1100), John
Patterson, (Kawaka ZZR 1100), Steve Ives, (Suzuki GS 1000E) and Geoff
James, (BMW K100 RS). The
“something a bit different” involved talking each other into entering
the Rusty Nuts Grand Challenge. At
the time of entering, details were a bit sketchy.
They knew that it started and finished at Turangi in the middle of
the North Island, and that the objective was to cover a distance of 1000
miles (1600 Km) in a 24 hour period, over a check-pointed route.
Piece of cake eh? After all, any idiot with a calculator could figure out that
all you needed to do was average 67 km/hr over that period. With
the enthusiasm that only certifiable lunatics can muster, entries are duly
sent in, and acceptances speedily returned.
The first nagging doubts set in, on learning that their start time
is just before 4 p.m. on Saturday, 13th of October, which is
early Spring in NZ. Hmm…..
that means there are less than 4 hours of daylight riding on day one. Suddenly, 67 km/hour seems a bit more of a hurdle now that
the first rush of enthusiasm is well and truly forgotten. Hurried conference at Geoff’s place to figure out what gear
is needed to take between them, and a sense of unease increases.
The plan is to stick together and just try to finish inside 24
hours. Notes will be taken en
route to stop lies being told about each other later on.
Partners and wives show their normal lack of sympathy, and their
checking of life insurance policies is not a good sign. The Big Day Out Saturday dawns moderately fine, at least it isn’t raining .......yet! Hurried goodbyes around mid-day as Geoff works his way round Tokoroa picking up the rest of the group. A quick pose for Sandra, Steve’s wife, to take a photo, and then it’s off to Turangi, some 120 Km south.
A
leisurely cruise down the western side of Lake Taupo, a lake with an area
of some 600 sq km, is forgotten within a few minutes, and the riding
becomes a bit more spirited. A
lucky let-off a few k’s south of Whakamaru.
The group emerge from one corner at speed to encounter a cop about
100 metres away, coming towards them.
The brakes go on, and the cop seems amused at the nose-down
attitude of the bikes; he just waves and carries on.
About 10 minutes further on, they find 2 dogs wandering about in
the road, but still being twitchy from the Mr Law episode; reactions are a
bit quicker this time. Still,
not a good sign with the No
further problems, and the group find the holiday park with most of the
other entrants already there. Interesting
atmosphere of quiet expectation prevails, no loud shouting or raucous
behaviour. Obviously not a
place which thrives on bullshit. This
is going to be an event with a
difference! The organisers
are well-organised, and when they, and other entrants find that the group
are first-timers, good advice and encouragement is freely given.
Scrutineering of the bikes is meticulous, and Steve has to give his
rear wheel bearings a tweak. A
quick trip to get some gas, and then it’s time for the rider briefing. Richard,
John and Steve doing final checks.
Three
o’clock comes round, and the first riders get away.
No great dramatics, the distance involved and prevailing conditions
command too much respect.
In what seems no time at all, the group are told that it will soon
be their turn.
There hardly seems enough time to have a nervous pee!
The next few minutes are blurred, and suddenly, it’s time to go. Leg 1, Turangi to Taumaranui - about 189
kilometers
Richard
leads off, and settles into a comfortable (reasonably fast) pace.
About 10 minutes after the start, the group gets passed by an old
unfaired Suzuki which must be doing close to the “ton”.
Bloody hell, this is really unsettling. Steve takes over at
Whakamaru for the run out to Benneydale.
Weather is sunny and a bit breezy, but the first part of this leg
is uneventful. Group
concentrate on trying to relax. At
Benneydale, Steve slows because he isn’t sure where the turn to Ongarue
is. Geoff takes over as he
knows the route (sort of, having travelled down it a year or so back.)
Don’t remember it being this narrow, or this twisty, or this
bumpy! Encounter a whole load
of riders parked about half way down the road at an intersection and
assume they are checking the route. Only
find out later that one of them lost it in the gravel at the side of the
road, but is not seriously hurt. Leg
2, Taumaranui to Masterton - about 516 kilometers Richard
leads off - where has everyone gone?
With the exception of a loner tagging along at the back, the group
are down to the original four. The
western road through National Park is at an altitude of over 2000 ft, and
the scenery is dominated by 3 active volcanoes, one of which is around
9000 ft high. As they
approach National Park, a fine drizzle descends, and it starts to get
decidedly gloomy. Geoff, who
hasn’t done much wet weather riding, wonders how soon it’s going to be
before he goes down on his arse. No
worries, everything is fine, and as Raetihi approaches, the weather starts
to brighten. The Paraparas loom. Most
of the group have never been down here before, but have heard all about
it. Depending upon the exact
starting point, a loose description would be between 50 and 70 km of blind
bends, joined together by one metre long straights in the bottom of a
narrow valley! A whole heap
of other riders are picked up, but passing is a tedious business when they
are travelling at an almost identical speed.
What is not appreciated by anyone
are the patches of unmarked gravel which seem to be strategically
placed on the exit of some bends. One
of them stretches across three quarters of the road, and some inventive
lines are taken to avoid it. No
major problems are encountered as dark sets in. Richard has done a great job of giving the rest a good tow.
A quick consultation at Wanganui on the coast, and the decision is
made to press on to Bulls and Palmerston North.
The stop was only for a few seconds, but everyone
has zipped past the group again.
Really hard to make progress unless you keep on the move. John
leads off. No navigational
glitches this time, worse luck. In
polite terms, the Hill Road is a bastard.
Foggy, raining, slippery, and the use of brakes on the downhill
side are not to be recommended. John’s
clench marks on his seat will attest to that.
It’s way out in the countryside, and totally unlit.
Looks like something from “Deliverance”. Hope that the locals
don’t have the same inclinations. It’s
a relief when Pahiatua appears, but not much of one as it really starts to
chuck it down. The wind is
getting a bit fresh too. Those
who haven’t put rain gear on, stick it on in a hurry under the shelter
of a garage in the small settlement of Eketahuna.
The garage is closed, much like the rest of the place, and the lack
of lighting is really depressing. Through
the spray, a few bikes are seen coming back the other way, returning from
the checkpoint at Masterton. It’s
a nightmare for Geoff. His
visor is o.k, but his specs are steaming up inside.
Never mind, just look for the tail light ahead, and hope that the
medical insurance covers acts of stupidity. The
lights of Masterton come as a great relief, and it’s about 11 pm as
checkpoint 2 at a gas station is reached.
Bladders are bursting - must be all the shot nerves over the last
hour or so. The complications
of leathers and wet weather
gear now become apparent. This
is not a desperate problem for most of the group, but Steve has some
stomach cramps which make his visit to the small room a very close call!
Wedding tackle seems to have vanished anyway, another symptom of
nerves. No-Doz, drink and
sweeties are consumed. Everyone
is getting a bit fatigued and any sense of adventure is temporarily on
hold. Sudden realisation why
people who have previously done the event don’t take it lightly. However, there is a slight lift in the spirits as the group
have gone as far south as the route calls for. Leg
3, Masterton to Napier - about 770 kilometers Richard
leads off, and the weather is still awful.
Problems with Geoff’s specs reappear and the ride to Dannevirke
is really unpleasant. John
goes sideways on a wet and oily corner.
If he didn’t see God on that occasion, God certainly had a
glimpse of John! Steve
isn’t very happy either. His
1980’s headlight (a candle would almost be better) is showing some
limitations, as the field of illumination stops at his front mudguard.
It is difficult to describe just how diabolical the conditions are. The riders are really on edge.
The riders will learn on the following day that trees were getting
knocked down in this area of the country due to the appalling conditions. Hallelujah!
It stops raining and with spectacles clearing, Geoff takes the lead
near Dannevirke, a farming settlement.
The road is both empty and fast, and the pace is upped to naughty
speeds again. These halogen
lights on full beam do the business, and the group are fair motoring.
The term is always relative, and to put the quartet in their place
, a blue and white CBR 1000 comes past at warp speed and vanishes in
seconds. No worries though, everyone is pretty happy, although soggy
gloves and damp feet are cooling the extremities down.
At about 2 am, the next checkpoint at Napier on the east coast is
reached, and a few other riders are in the gas station.
It’s the best gas station so far, well-lit and a good range of
munchies to be consumed. Riders
chat amiably, and don’t seem at all uptight.
That word professionalism floats to the top again.
Jaqui Madelin, deputy Editor of Kiwi Rider Magazine, says that this
is her 3rd Rusty Nuts. Riding
an unfaired BMW, she looks incredibly fresh considering the battering she
must have taken in the wind and rain.
Don’t know how Jaqui really feels, but bums and wrists are
packing up among the novices. Pressure
points in a couple of helmets are now irritating ear ‘oles.
How come they’ve been
ok until now? Gas
station forecourt in Napier, Jaqui looking
Leg 4. Napier
to Whangamata. About 1160 kilometers elapsed
Richard
leads off as he knows the road to Taupo really well. The road is dry, but the wind is a bit blustery. Going out of
Eskdale, another bike is sighted out front.
It takes a while to close on it,
but is finally identified as Jaqui on the BMW.
She isn’t hanging about either, so her earlier statement is taken
with a grain of salt. Richard
nips by on an uphill overtaking lane, and Geoff follows.
What Richard has seen, and Geoff hasn’t, is the 55 km/hr bend
sign. This presents a problem
as Geoff is doing around double that speed, and feels a complete
idiot as his cornering technique can hardly be described as elegant.
Jaqui hangs in there for a while, but the group doesn’t notice
her drop off as they are too busy trying to stop the flying Richard doing
the same to them. More high speeds are reached on the straights, and Taupo
comes up in no time flat. Richard
knows a quick way onto State Highway 1, but cunningly manages to head in
the wrong direction almost within eyesight of the roundabout near the
Waikato river bridge. Minimal
time lost though. Steve
takes over for the journey down to the coastal town of Whangamata, as he
travels on this road a fair amount.
It’s a bit drizzly over the
Kopu - Hikuai stretch, but spirits rise as dawn breaks.
At Hikuai, the road dries out, and Steve starts to deck his
footpegs and clear off.
The others aren’t so familiar with what must be one of the best
sections of bike road in the World, but try not get left too far behind.
Wow! what a road.
Smooth surface,
and mostly open, sweeping bends.
Richard’s oil level indicator light flickers on and off, meaning
that it’s about time to stop anyway.
That cocky bastard Steve still has time to sneak to a stop on the
outskirts of town without being seen, and pretend that he’s been waiting
for ages, despite the strong efforts of the others to keep up.
Into Whangamata at just after 7 am, and check in.
One of the lads notices that the hot bread shop just down the road
is open, so it’s a quick trip to see what they’ve got.
Tea, coffee, eggs, bacon, tomatoes and toast, all for $10 is what
they’ve got!
Still well ahead of schedule, so a leisurely breakfast is taken to
offset fatigue.
A few more bikes come past, but only a couple double
back to check out the food. Leg
5. Whangamata to Raetihi. About 1526 kilometers elapsed
John
leads off in dry conditions into the hilly twisties south of Whangamata.
Another rider on an old Suzuki gets on the back of the group, but
everyone else has vanished. John, ever the perfectionist, makes a mess of one tricky
corner after over 1100 km of riding, and is embarrassed to think what
Richard, who is following, will say.
No worries, Richard doesn’t give a stuff as he is busy making a
total hash of it too! Through
the old gold mining town of Waihi, and the wind is starting to get quite
gusty, and before long, the rain is setting in.
Traffic builds up on the way to the coastal city of Tauranga and
the average speed drops. A
quick top - up in Tauranga, mainly to ease things which hurt.
Come to think of it, there isn’t much that doesn’t bloody well
hurt! The decision is taken
to make regular stops to keep the bodies together.
It’s getting really hard for most of the group members, where up
to now, a 200 km trip has been considered a decent ride! It’s really hosing down as they pull into a gas station in
the volcanically active city of Rotorua for a pee just before 11 am.
The rain traps all the sulphur fumes - so this is what Hell must
smell like! Gloves are soggy,
and there isn’t much point in sticking on overmitts now.
At the nature stop, John
and Steve confirm the worst fears of a gas station full of car owners by
doing a burn-out in front of them, then sheepishly claiming that it was to
get oil from the forecourt off their back tyres! A
wind gust nearly causes Geoff to shake hands with a car driver whilst
overtaking. The rest of the
group instantly decide that the car is driving at exactly the right speed,
and there is absolutely no need to overtake it!
Two of the riders are fascinated by the different spray patterns
coming off the back tyres of the bikes in front.
Good idea to stay well away from them, methinks!
This must be the worst part of the trip so far, with respect to the
risk of ending up on the deck. If
the Group don’t keep their wits about them, someone could get really
hurt. Absolutely the wrong
time for heroics. Arrive
at Taupo just before mid-day for gas and a Peanut Slab.
John is starting to lose it. He
wrenches off his helmet, and with eyes as big as saucers, shouts
“You’re just a big (expletive) James, for getting us into this!
Tsk, tsk, setting another bad example in a public place!
John leads, and the run down to Turangi at the southern end of Lake
Taupo isn’t too bad as trees and other natural obstructions provide
reasonable protection, although Lake Taupo is white all over.
Looks just like an ocean storm.
It’s slightly disheartening though, to see bikes coming the other
way which have obviously finished, when the group still has to go round
National Park. A
quick stop at Turangi, mainly to rest aching limbs. For the last few hundred k’s, the group have been alarming
other road users by periodically waving both arms and legs, and standing
up on the footpegs without warning. They’re
not cracking up, just trying to ease the pain.
Richard leads up onto the Desert Road.
The road runs on the eastern side of National Park, and is a
god-awful place. Above 2000
ft in altitude, just low scrub growing, and is only fit for military
manoeuvres. This is REALLY
BAD. The wind is doing around 50 - 60 knots side - on, although the
rain has eased. Steve, with
his bikini fairing, isn’t having too much trouble, but the fully-faired
machines are really getting knocked around.
The bikes are leaned over along the straights to combat the howling
gale. Fatigue makes Richard
speculate whether he ought to go back the other way to even out the tyre
wear! Extreme relief as the
military settlement at Waiouru is reached, even if the rain has started
again. Good progress must
have been made, because the CX 500 rider who followed the group out of
Turangi is nowhere to be seen. Not
being sure of the time needed to finish the journey, no stopping at
Waiouru, and John heads for Raetihi.
The wind is pretty much on the nose, which helps the hurting
bodies. Wrists, hands and
bums have been hurting forever, and
it’s not very pleasant. John
sets a cracking pace, being more than a bit naughty in quite a few places. When challenged as to the wisdom of this speed in the
prevailing conditions, the novel explanation was that he was dying for a
piss! Leg
6. Raetihi to Turangi. About 1620 kilometers elapsed Geoff is ordered to
lead the last leg, it’s his fault for getting everyone to enter anyway.
It’s still wet and bloody windy, but the lure of finishing is
strong. Geoff hits something
in the road near the National Park junction and has the back end step out. Steve hits it too, and red-lines the motor with the back
wheel in the air. Neither of
them have got a clue what
they hit, and care even less. Some
silly speeds are achieved across National Park.
When Geoff (I’m shit scared of riding fast in the wet) James was
asked how this performance stacked up against his loathing of wet weather,
he said “These new Michelins are supposed to be o.k in a bit of damp!”
Post
Script
Around
95 riders entered, with about 85 turning up and 15 DNF’s.
Not sure how many newcomers, but the group are genuinely proud to
have made it.
It is both mentally and physically challenging, especially when you
don’t know what to expect.
A strong bond has been established between the group, with a great
trust in each other’s riding abilities.
The title “Grand Challenge” is an apt one.
There is a better understanding of the earlier thoughts about the
professional approach of the riders, and it applies to the organisers too.
By the time the group get home, they will have covered close to 2000 km in
about 27 hours.
Not bad for short-range day-trippers.
Will they be back?
Er, dunno.
The notes taken round the route will allow them to re-live the
event and decide later.
Work the next day is sheer hell for all of them.
Some can’t sit down, some have hands that look like claws, and
all endure the jokes from their work-mates.
Despite everything,
the quiet pride will stay with them.
In today’s comfortable, automated World, there are still a few
worthwhile challenges left when everything gets a bit too much.
Perhaps next year over a different route..........?????
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