Day 12
Enos, SJ, Grumpy and I had a great evening at Oakura Boat Club in New Plymouth, where the red wine flowed easily.
We then walked back to the Holiday Park and our cabin, number 12 for future reference, on the beach for a tipple of port and a cigar. It was still warm and Grumpy made the decision to sleep outside on the deck so as not to wake the rest of us with he freight train snoring.
Enos was staying behind in New Plymouth for a couple of extra days as his missus didn’t want him home yet.
So the three of us said our goodbyes at 7am and hit the road for the last time. We stopped off two hours later at Pio Pio for a ripper of a breakfast. It was great putting those early miles under our belt as we knew it was only a hop, skip and a jump to Auckland, or in my case Dargaville, which was an extra leap.
All on this tour there has been no close calls traffic wise. The fine weather we had certainly played a part in that, but we all rode at levels that were comfortable to us. That’s not to say that some corners were taken a little to quickly on occasion, or overtaking when we would have been better to just be a little more patient, but there was no scary moments for any of us.
As we left the cafe in Piopio I checked my bags and spare helmet were on securely and threw my leg over Equus.
We decided to fill up in Te Kuiti and say our goodbyes to each other there as SJ was heading to Cooks Beach, and Grumpy and I wouldn’t need to fill up again. It was fitting that it was us three remaining as it was only us who had done the South Island a couple of years before. SJ was fighting back the tears, and I admit to shedding a lone tear down my rosey cheek.
SJ would leave us at Hamilton and head toward the Coromandel, while Grumpy and I would continue north.
However, before SJ left us we were just outside Otorohanga when I saw her.
Her blonde hair waving in the wind like a graceful ballerina.
Her blue eyes sparkling like the pools of St Bathans would have many years ago.
She was wearing a white cotton dress that showed off her taut figure.
She was in the hitchhikers pose with thumb extended.
I pulled on the reins of Equus who eased next to her. I threw my kick stand down and quickly took off the spare helmet and gave it to this incredibly gorgeous woman.
She took the helmet, and laughed.
She then thrust out her spare hand and said, “I’m Wendy. Where are you heading?”
I showed her my pearly whites and replied, “Shepp” pointing to my embroidered name on my leather vest. “I’m heading to Dargaville.”
“I’ve never been there,” she continued to laugh. “Let’s go!” She quickly slid on some jeans whilst keeping her summer dress on. She looked hot.
Grumpy and SJ sat on their bikes, mouths agape, at what they had just witnessed.
Wendy slid her long legs around me and the three Harleys roared off once more.
I hadn’t even got into top gear before I felt Wendy’s hand rubbing the side of my leg.
I found it very hard to concentrate on the road.
We soon got to Hamilton and waved our farewells to SJ.
He’s been a great leader on this trip, despite a few hic cups with directions and tickets. He actually bought me a very cool Route 66 sign in Invercargill to hang in the Man Shed. Cheers brother.
Grumpy, Wendy and I had a relatively smooth ride through Auckland with Wendy absolutely loving the V-Twin between her legs.
Wendy and I waved to Grumpy as he exited onto Greville Road in Alabany and headed for his palatial home on the Shore.
There was little traffic for Wendy and I to fight with for the remaining hour and a half ride to Dargaville.
I pulled Equus into the drive and Wendy hopped off and planted a big kiss straight on my lips.
My kind of woman!
Equus was back in her stable, and I jumped into the shower to try and get rid of 12 days of mayhem.
I returned to find Wendy naked in my bed holding my well deserved beer.