Day 9: Hurry Up and Wait

I’ve decided the best weather forecast comes from what the late P.J. Hoff, a weatherman back in the 60’s on Channel 2, comes from “The Vice President in charge of Looking Out the Window.” After consulting with him, at least the day wasn’t starting out with delusions of grandeur. It wasn’t raining yet, but it looked imminent. Showered, had my mandatory Harroway’s Oat Cereal (today – honey and brown sugar variety!), and packed. My goal was Wellington via the Rimutakas – another of my “goals” for this trip.

Rolled out of the parking lot headed south on SH2 at 9:30 a.m. with a temperature of 8 C. Before I hit Carterton, 15 km south, the rain began. There were a surprising number of fair sized towns enroute, which were slow to pass through, although the rural areas between cities opened up to the 100 kph limit (about 90 kph in my case due to the rain).

Until I passed through Featherston and entered: the Rimutakas.

The people who laid out this road must have previously worked at a spaghetti company. The road climbed and continuously curved left, then right, then repeat. 55 kph (30 mph) curves were the “big” ones; 25 kph (15 mph) curves were the “tight” ones. I was rowing between first and second gear, easing through the curves in the rain. As I neared the summit, the temperature had dropped to 6 C.

Made the summit. Now: down the other side. Stayed off the front brake most of the time, using engine compression to maintain a safe speed. Again, back and forth, left and right – right into the construction zone. I suppose you have to do maintenance even on roads like this, but did they have to do it while I was here? 30 kph through partially packed, slightly muddy gravel, in the rain, on a 700 lb rented motorcycle on the opposite side of the world. Amazing how much seat foam your sphincter can collect at times like these.

The section only lasted a minute or two, but I was glad to regain solid pavement. 10 minutes later, I was back onto level, straighter pavement. Hema;s “Motorcycle Atlas” listed the the Rimutakas portion of the road at “5 smiles” – I’d agree, if it had been dry out.

Slogged on toward Wellington, hoping to see a bit of the city before my 1:00 p.m. ferry to Picton on the South Island. I arrived at the Bluebridge ferry terminal just after 11:00 a.m., and found out that due to rough weather in the Cook Strait, the sailing had been delayed to 3:30. Oh well, more time to go exploring!

I dropped the bags that normally travel strapped to the passenger seat in a locker at the Downtown Backpacker’s Hostel across the street. The “Beehive”, the Executive wing of the parliamentary complex, was one block further.

Called “The Beehive” because of its (controversial) shape, it was designed in the late 60’s by a British architect, Sir Basil Spence. The Prime Minister and Cabinet Ministers have their offices here.

Immediately to the north of, and connected to “The Beehive” is the Parliamentary wing:

This wing was built in the 1920’s, replacing the previous wooden House of Parliament that was destroyed by fire. The final building in the complex is the Parliamentary Library:

The Library is being repainted to its original color scheme. The garden out front is a white camellia garden in memory of Kate Sheppard, a suffragette who led the movement that resulted in New Zealand being the first major country to grant women the right to vote, back in 1893. Kate Sheppard is on the $10 bill; Sir Edmund Hilary is on their $5 bills.

As it was getting near the revised 2:30 p.m. check-in time for my ferry ride, I reclaimed my checked bags and headed back to the terminal. The departure had now been pushed back to 4:30, with boarding set to start at 3:50 p.m. I decided to just hang around the terminal and read. The ship arrived around 3:15, and they began the unloading process.

(For scale, those windows on the deck above the words “Strait Shipping” are about 5 feet tall.) They finally rolled us aboard at 4:50 p.m. With the help of a native Kiwi making the passage back to his home on the South Island on a 1953 Velocette 350 that he’s owned for 40 years, I tied down the bike and moved to the 7^th level of the ferry.

The crossing was near amusement park quality; there were several waves that broke onto the windows of the lounge, so there was some serious rockin’ and rollin’ going on. But the bike was still upright when we landed, so I unstrapped it and made it to the Picton Campervan Park at 9:30 p.m., where I rented a cabin for the night.

Tomorrow: West, then south toward Nelson and Westport.

Motorcycle mileage: 102 km for the day.