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It’s the quiet one that catches my attention. The one not on the map, the one not with the flowing locks and the pretty eyes and the short skirt, but the one just shadowed behind them, the bashful one with the libidinous grin that says "I know exactly what it is that you want." Those are the places, and people, that catch my eye.
Wanganui was just supposed to be a stopover between Wellington and I did not know what. Just get me a hotel there and then I’ll get on to Auckland and back to Australia, I thought. But Wanganui had beautiful secrets to tell me, and I was in the mood for listening.
Most stores close around 5PM. There are only a few restaurants, and they are good, and between 6PM and 9PM few tables are to be had. After 9PM, there isn’t much to see or do besides hearing the kids drag racing in the hills. It’s not quite quaint, and its not quite anything really, but I seemed to fit in, and that is what matters.
The road riding was great, and I wished I could stay for more, but I am curious about the what lies north of Auckland in the Bay of Islands. Two things I know to be true: (1) there are a lot of roads there, which means that traffic should surely be light and (2) it is popular. Number 2 scares me a bit (I desperately want to make a poop joke) because where people say you should go is generally places I don’t want to go.
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| When air drums begin, you know it's fun. |
But I can’t stay in Wanganui for the next two weeks. I have 17 days left in New Zealand, and for good or bad, I have to play with the toys I have been given, not just my favorite one. It’s my duty to myself, to the quest.
But I have a really good feeling, because things seemed to have turned. And I was ready for the swell, which is important. I’m reminded here of something about opportunity and the ability to sense it. Can’t recall the exact saying, but I can tell you I feel wind at my back, and I know when that’s the case you keep pedaling until it stops.
Then you call a friend to pick you up.
I had some euphoric rides here. I also went on a group ride. And I don’t know why I keep doing this to myself, but I go on group rides despite hating them to the core. They are dangerous, competitive, smelly, anxienty-ridden affairs. The people were great, and I had a chance to chat with almost every one of them for a bit, but I was mentally exhausted at the end.
Mark my words: Never Again Will I Go On A Group Ride. Unless it’s with a couple of friends, which is completely different.
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| 44 degree bank on a track bike. Fucking awesome. |
I also took the invite today to ride a track bike at the local Velodrome. I took my time getting used to it, as it was my first time on a track bike and my first time in a velodrome, but after about 10 laps, I was up at 30+ mph on a 44 degree bank and loving it. I took some video, but it could have been better if I had known in advance it was going to happen. I had no time to plan any shots. I just kind of showed up and got invited.
It was still a killer ride, and now I need a mountain bike and a track bike and also, possibly, a cross-bike. I’ll need to start staying at cheaper hotels.
