Barry and Jodie's Kiwi Adventure A Taranaki Ramble

A Mighty Wind   Back  Next  Home 

We awoke to a cloudy and very windy morning.  Over breakfast we debated what to do.  Clearing skies over the ocean in the distance convinced us to go ahead with a cautious eye on the weather.  We collected our bikes downtown.  They were fairly new mountain bikes; shops won't rent road or touring bikes.  We packed very light, each carrying only a day pack, and trundled off to the local museum to await fairer weather.  The museum, Puke Ariki, was terrific, but the weather seemed to be stalled.  After some debate, we thought of our friends at Active New Zealand and decided "to just bike like Kiwis!" 

We had planned a circle route around the mountain.  New Plymouth was at 11 o'clock on the circle, and we were headed for Opunake our first day, located around 7 o'clock, and about 65 km (30 miles or so) from New Plymouth.  Given that a typical weekend bike ride for us around Washington is at least 30 miles, we were pretty confident as we set out.  True, we were riding mountain bikes with fat tires, but surely we could cover 65 km in a few hours.

The road out of town was full of traffic and swung up hills and down.  The rain squalls that swept in from the sea were bad enough, but as we left the town and wheeled around to the southwest we found ourselves cycling into the teeth of a steady 20 km/hr wind that was gusting much higher.  We stripped off pants legs to cut down on the wind resistance.  We walked up some of the worst hills that became insurmountable on the bike because of the head-on wind.  We pedaled down hills because the wind was so strong that we couldn't coast down without being nearly stopped by the wind.  Cars flew by us on the narrow road and we struggled to stay upright in the treacherous combination of their backwash and the wind.  The only relief we found was behind hedgerows.  I've never understood so personally the power and utility of a windbreak!  But since the land around Mt. Taranaki is given predominantly to dairying, the windbreaks are few and far between.

Somewhere to our left was the fabled mountain.  New Plymouth had been the site where Tom Cruise's file The Last Samurai was filmed.  Mt. Taranaki was Mt. Fuji's "body double."  We had heard it was a majestic and breathtaking view.  All we could see that day were some foothills in the distance that disappeared into a huge cloudbank. 

About 25 km and 2 hours along we reached a small crossroads with a few stores.  We straggled into one for something hot to drink and some lunch.  The place was deserted but for a few intrepid souls who ran in quickly to pick up milk, or coffee.  Each time they did the wind practically tore the door off the hinges and threatened to blow the store's stock all over the place.  We were soaked and pretty tired out, and still less than half-way to our goal.

As we prepared to leave a young man came in, and Jodie, seeing his look, said something like "yeah, we know, we're crazy."  He asked us what we were doing; when we told him he offered to take us along in his pick up at least part of the remaining way.  Stalwart outdoor enthusiasts that we've become we immediately said, "thank God" and accepted his offer.

Our young dairy farmer friend filled us in on rural life in the area, which evidently included a significant amount of surfing when the weather cooperated.  Like everyone else we met on this trip, he assured us the weather was "totally out of character, never seen anything like it."  The wind rocked the pick up cab as we rolled along at 80 km/hr, eating up the miles we'd otherwise have to battle on two wheels.  About 30 km along he stopped and said he had to turn off the main road.  He offered to take us the rest of the way if we could stand a detour as he finished his errand.  By now we were both a little sheepish about allowing the weather to defeat us.  We were only 11 km from our goal, and from our vantage in the cab it seemed the weather had calmed a bit.  So we thanked him and courageously said we'd complete the trip on our own.  He looked skeptical.  He looked amused.  We tried to look resolute.

Within a few minutes of his departure we were once again pedaling like crazy just to stay moving forward a little bit.  We stopped frequently without any shelter from the wind that was now rising in intensity and gusting more often.  Shortly after our friend returned along the road and offered once again to take us the remainder of the trip.  Again, fortified by our shame, we declined and pedaled on.  He waved at us quizically and was gone.  Remorse filled our hearts as soon as his taillights had disappeared.

The final 11 km of this trip are something of a blur.  We ended up walking the bikes most of the way simply because it was more efficient than trying to cycle them.  At the very end we were able to cycle the last bit into our motel, and salvage a bit of our pride.  But we were so knackered by then it hardly mattered.

Opunake

The town of Opunake is a small beach resort/dairy center perched along a narrow strip of land between the ocean and the rising foothills of the mountain.  Our motel host recommended dinner at the local hotel; in NZ towns this usually means the local bar, which might have rooms too, but we never saw anyone renting one.  We bundled up again in our dry clothes and headed out into the rain.  We were so pitiful and the weather so terrible that the owner actually made her husband get in the car and follow us to offer a ride the 500 m or so into town.  This time we didn't refuse.

Dinner at the hotel was a NZ cultural experience.  We joined a small group of locals who were gathering for a funeral the next day as they drank beer, smoked and played pool in a dingy bar room.  The menu was typical pub food -- fish or steak and chips, a hamburger, etc.  As hungry and tired as we were it was gourmet cuisine.  All conversation stopped when NZ's most popular evening soap, British import Coronation Street, came on the tube, and we joined right in to watch.  In fact, we spent the rest of our evening more or less comatose in our motel watching one bad imported television show after another.  It was heavenly.

The following day we immediately tuned in the radio to the weather forecast.  No luck.  The worst summer gale in record was roaring up the coast and clobbering Taranaki.  Winds from 50 km/hr, gusting to 100 km/hr and more.  Frequent rain squalls.

We quickly decided to stay put in Opunake for the day and hope for better weather.  In daylight there were more stores open than the previous evening, and we actually passed a very pleasant day bouncing between a hip coffee shop/restaurant, a bookstore and the public library.  People stayed indoors and expressed wonderment at the weather.  The town has a lovely broad beach in a curving cove, where a holiday camping park is located.  It's evidently quite a surfing hot spot, and property values are beginning to heat up as New Plymouth residents seeking a beach home/weekend retreat are discovering Opunake.  Located in the shadow of a reportedly majestic mountain, with a beautiful coastline and surrounded by rural farm land, we could see the appeal.  The town even has a new restaurant featuring noveau NZ cuisine and wine where we ate dinner.  It was quite good and the chef/owner very friendly and convivial.  We predict a bright future for "Sugar Juice."  There was even a rainbow in clearing skies as we left. Our spirits lifted and we made it an early evening in anticipation of continuing our journey the next morning.

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