Barry and Jodie's Kiwi Adventure A Taranaki Ramble

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The next morning did dawn clear, and though there was still a stiff breeze, the gale had clearly spent itself.  We could push on to the next 75 km along the route we'd originally planned through Stratford at around 3 o'clock on the circle, and then finish up back in New Plymouth.  But confronted with continuing winds and not sure of the route's difficulty, we decided to simply return the way we'd come directly to New Plymouth.  

What a difference a tail wind makes!  In contrast to the previous ride, we were able to breeze along the same road at a fast clip with minimal pedalling effort.  We detoured down to the beach to find a broad, very wide beach.  One half was roped off for swimmers.  The rest was designated for surfers, who had departed shortly after we arrived as the tide went out.

The clearing weather also unveiled Mt. Taranaki.  As the clouds dissipated it emerged into the sky, a nearly perfect volcanic cone.  We kept twisting around on our bikes to look over our right shoulders as we rode.  Each bend in the road revealed a new perspective.  Cattle grazed in the foreground, oblivious to the view but making a pretty picture.  What had taken us more than 6 hours on the first day flew by in a little more than 2 before we reached New Plymouth again.

We rode through town in triumph, returning the bikes to a somewhat surprised clerk, and collected our car at the B&B.  We set off again to follow the whole planned route to see what we had missed.  Our route took us on some detours to the shore, which hugs the road for a good part of the way, catching glimpses of long stony beaches, marshy wetlands overgrown with rushes and flax.  Flax was a critical basic material for the Maori, who used it to wave clothing and household implements. 

We rounded the far side of Mt. Taranaki and bolted up a detour that we would have passed up on bikes.  The guidebook described it as an 8 km side trip that was almost all uphill, very demanding, and very rewarding.  It was all of that; thank God we had a car and not the bikes!  The twisting road led up through dense forest to one of the two base entries to the national park and climbs up to the peak.  Clouds were once again beginning to shroud the mountain.  We headed off on a loop trail to check out Dawson's Falls, one of the featured sites on the mountain.  The trail was well groomed and lovely.  It finally opened onto an impressive valley at whose head a pair of waterfalls tumbled several stories into a stream that rumbled out to the plains beyond. 

We hastened home after this.  We stopped at dusk to have dinner in a roadhouse near Wanganui.  We were surrounded by locals, some celebrating a young woman's birthday, and greeted warmly by the owner.  It was another lovely example of the hospitality and friendliness we've come to take for granted here.  A long drive home in the dark followed.  Long stretches of highway wound through hills and plains.  No streetlights, masses of double-trailer trucks barrelling along festooned with lights along the sides and across the front, pitch dark to either side.  Jodie's kind of driving!  We were both grateful to pull into our driveway at the end of another amazing adventure.

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