Day...to...Day

Urban...to...Rural

Snow...to...Dirt

Board...to...Bike

Saturday...to...Sunday

This quickly sums up my weekend past. While you back home were celebrating Labour and a 3 day weekend (for many of you a LAST day of freedom), I only had two days of down time. What does one do with two days of no work and no committments when living in a new country?

Road...Trip

A short story in pictures (and a few words)

As I leave school on Friday, I see in the distance, like a shining beacon, a silver carriage of freedom. Yes, that's my new (used) Toyota FunCargo.

Up close (and admittedly from far as well) it looks rather strange, and in person it's even stranger. But it was cheap and it is reliable. What more could I ask for? Style. Look at those hubcaps. If that's not style, then nothing is. In the car/van/wagon/spaceship was my snowboarding gear. And I was off.

Then I was stuck. For an hour and a half. In Auckland traffic. Great way to start a what shoudl be 4 hour drive.

5 and a half hours later, I was in this type of scenery. Although when I arrived it was almost 10pm and this volcano wasn't quite a visible. I was here to snowboard Mt. Ruapehu, an active volcano. It was a strange thought to be on top of an active volcano, but the Kiwis think nothing of it, so neither did I. Side note, it last "erupted" (more like let off some steam) only a few years ago.

This is the hotel/chateau that I did not stay at, and not because it reminded me of The Shining (redrum, anyone?) but because I didn't want to pay $300 for 6 hours of sleep. There are no pics of the actual boarding due to the 70+ km/h winds. I had a terrible ratio of 3 runs in 3 hours (due to long, LONG lines at the lifts which were due to half the mountain being closed), and therefore traded in my lift pass for a full refund and commenced the journey back to Auckland. Sad, yes, but such is life. At least I tried. The Mount looks amazing and I can't wait to get back there when it's all a full go.

A sign on the way back to Auckland. Gotta love Kiwi humour by bullet.

Scenery on the drive home.

More scenery (sorry Piche, I'm working on your request, bud, believe me)

On the left you'll notice what looks to be a bike lane. Since this is a 100km/h posted motorway, I didn't even consider it to be one.

Consider again. (As always, you can click on any picture to blow it up to full size) Take a closer look at the blue sign on the left. Yup, bike lane.

As further evidence, look closer at this photo to notice the orange being in the top right corner, riding on two wheels.

The next day

Back in Auckland, I put some shorts on and headed to Woodhill Mountain Bike Park.

"Hello, tree. They told me one could surf and snowboard on the same day in this country. I thought that to be an exaggeration. I was wrong. I was snowboarding yesterday and now I'm here, talking to you, wearing shorts, on my bike."

The trail.





I was positive I was going to encounter Gandalf (for those who don't know, whenever a word appears that is underlined and a different colour then the other text, it means you can click on it and it will take you to a link, ususally I do this for a laugh or to be informative) or Frodo or at the very least an Ent in this section of the trail. Maybe next time.

FIll in the Blank: D.N.__.

Race entry fee: $20.00
Rental car cost: $100.00
Gas: $10.00
Electrolyte Mix: $15.00
Getting dropped after one lap of a three lap race because you thought you could break off the front on a hilly, wind-swept, rain soaked course with only one other rider after not havign really trained properly for 4 weeks: PRICELESS.

Yup. I showed up with MaxEdge attitude. 'Who's the new guy?' everyone was thinking. 'I am your worst nightmare,' was the reply in my head. 'Who do these B racers thing they are?' Well, I was just a bit off.

The Breakdown:
I get the race program and have a glance:



Then a closer glance:

An even closer glance:

Maximum Edge. To be fully represented in an Auckland, New Zealand road race. Beauty. I was stoked. Fired up. Ready to rock. All that training back home would surely pay off. Right?

Rather than numbers, they give racers these canvas type bibs (see below) to wear. They reminded me of the flag football belts we used to wear in high school gym class. My arrogance, though still robust, is beginning to take the form of wariness.

We line up for the race and everyone knows everyone, aside from me. 'I'll take 'em by suprise,' I think. Boy did that statement ever come true in the worst way possible.

We are signalled over to the start, and suddenly, without a gun or horn or anything, the race starts. Guys just take off. Confused, we eventually settle into a nice peleton and approach the first climb of the day. My plan is to sit in until the end and see what happens. Let the race unfold.

We are making our way up the climb. 'Not too bad.'

I start passing people. 'Sit in.'

I pass more people. 'Sit in, moron.'

I'm at the front, leading the group. 'Maybe these B racers aren't so strong.'

I keep pedaling away and hear a guy breathing heavily behind me. He says, "Hey we got a break, let's go for it."

'No way, dude. I can't do that for 80 kms!!!' I think.

"Alright," I say.

Still leading about 10kms later, we're on another climb and I'm in Cullion's hurt locker. Except it was dropped into hell while I was in there. I was done; all kinds of pain; lungs wheezing; legs screaming. I drop back to the peleton. They swarm around me. And past me. And then off into the distance. Done. DNF. Like a shooting star, my time had briefly come and gone.

Gentlemen from Maximum Edge, my apologies, I guarantee that my next race in our colours will have a much better result.