Cycling NZ25 - Day16 - The Computer Says NO!

55 miles and 1900 ft of ascent. I actually did 55 miles and 1900ft today post the harsh days in the mountains. And still whilst on the back end of my cold.  Wow Wayne!  Well done old boy. 

I mean I’m still grobbeling some awful stuff out of my upper tracts. And oh don’t get me going about whats up my nose. Suffice to say when I went to do the usual thing, that is cover one nostril and blow hard which normally ejects a slippy pellet of the snotty stuff onto the road. Well, I thought Mr Softee was a reluctant traveller - refusing  to let go of the bomb bay doors on his way into the water park. 

Hell fire!  This thing just hung on to my nostrils and started screaming about the long drop to the road. It took a 3 finger pinch to get the mess of a thing off my nostril post blow and a hefty flick onto the road with an almighty splat. Where it quickly looked around, raised its snotty skirt and shuffled off into the bushes. Eww!

But if there’s any indication that the cold is well on its way out then the improvements seen today to my throat, my nose and my legs are a jolly good sign 😊🙏

Gosh!  Its 4 or 5 days now since the TV was plastered with weather warnings and states or emergency for this part of the world. I’m on my way towards Palmerston North and the land in places looks like a tornado went through. Multiple trees blown over; huge limbs ripped asunder. Branch and leaf litter everywhere. I know I moaned a lot about my argument with the rain and thunder Gods last Friday but hells bells I can’t even contemplate what it might have been like stuck out on a bike when this place was struck!

But what a difference!  2 days ago I was fighting astronomical climbs. My stay at the lovely roadside cabins in the Whanganui river valley meant I was introduced both to Chantelle and to Sarah, an ex nurse who really does dress for the occasion.  A one piece pale green boiler suit of a thing topped off with a rather appropriate kiwi hat and pony tail. She looked like she was born to be here. Of course I rock up looking worse for wear. 

First thing Sarah says is stick your tongue out. What?  Stick your tongue out. I duly complied. Now purse your lips. Ok. Now puff out your cheeks. Huh?  Go on!. Now go crosseyed. I look like Harpo on a bad day. Yep you now look like the blasted idiot that you are cycling in these hills at your age… And you’re dehydrated. Drink!  Drink!  

You know you are safe when a Kiwi lass has made the correct diagnosis.  Twice. 

As said today’s ride was to Palmerston North. And because of the lack of one track hills I defo need to rely on my crap nav again. C’mon Garmin. Get yer fingers out. All twenty of them. Cos yer crap nav’s are still crap. 

For example. I’m on a rolling bit of back road. I know that I am on an uphill climb simply because of the way that the fence poles, the power poles, the houses and the trees gently lean into the hill. I look at  my Crap Nav. All that I have asked it to do is to show me my altitude and the gradient. 

The altitude is increasing yet the fecker will insist that I am on a negative gradient. I scream!  For God’s sake you only have two easily relatable calculations to do yet both brain cells continue to fail to communicate with each other!  Now introduce into that mix a bit of navigation and yer bolloxed.  Somewhere and somehow Garmin remain stuck in the days of the Sinclair ZX81 and even that would do a better job of it if I had an extra long power lead. 

Sadly my Insta360 must have been chewing on lead paint as a child. Today’s ride continued to parallel in places the one and only railway line pthat runs north south from Auckland to Wellington. I’ve watched that line close up and from afar many many times and I’ve never seen a train in it. I may as well be looking fir the white whale - Moby Dick - which is also the name for another problem one develops when tour cycling. 

I’m on the last 10 mile run into Palmerston North paralleling the railway line when I hear a sound that could either be some huge metallic racing snake slithering up behind me. Or a train on the track!

The train!  Its coming!  Press record. Press record!  Now Insta360 is a dumb fecker. On pressing the record button the following happens…

Insta wakes up and lets out a big yawn. 

Oh the boss wants me to record. Just a minute. I need to shuffle one of ma spare memories around first..

Now if I tak dis bit and put it in dis memory register… an… den…I… take dis bit an put it in dis register and I add dem together.. then 1 + 1 equals 10 doesn’t it cos its base 2 den if I….

I’m now bent double over the handlebars raging with red face, ears and snarly eyes at the dam machine which is refusing to start to record!  C’mon!  I scream!  C’MON START RECORDING YOU FECKING WORTHLESS PIECE OF JUNK! THE TRAIN IS RIGHT THERE IN FRONT OF US!!!

…an den if I add dis bit to dat bit, hey look man de red light has come on. Magic innit!

The red record light and the lovely pre programmed jingle goes Ta DAAAH! just as the arse end if the train disappears into the bushes …

FECK ARSE CRAP FLIP HECK GIRLS!  All the swearwords that I could ever muster flood out.  Gahhh!

Nonetheless I’m in a lovely motel tonight. A place we could only dream of having at this price in the UK

There’s a loud sound of angry hornets outside the door. Turns out this is a race weekend. Flat track stuff with souped up motors. Supercharged nut jobs whizzing around a wet muddy track.. a bit like me really…

Tomorrow im going to the shop to buy a paper map and a Kodak Instamatic camera cos for sure this is one country that will still be using them. 

I will not be beaten!

Ciao for now.