First Pork Pie Run. Neils run.

Neil Barnard does 4500 km tracing the route of the most famous mini in NZ

This run traced the route of the yellow Mini in the classic NZ movie "Goodbye Pork Pie". As is usual with the runs organised by the Rusty Nuts Motorcycle Club, there were a series of checkpoints along the way. In this case there were also pennants to be picked up at venues of particular significance in the movie. In some instances these checkpoints were only open for a limited time period of 1 hour.

DAY 0     WED 4 MARCH   WHAKATANE TO KAITAIA   627K

This was a leisurely ride from home on the old 1972 BMW R75 / 5 up to the start at Kaitaia. The only real drama occurred immediately after some roadworks. In a section just freshly sealed there were a lot of loose stones, which flicked up all over the bike. After accelerating away I went to slow up for the next corner, only to find the throttle stayed wide open. In the middle of the corner, which I was now attempting to negotiate at much greater than the normal speed, I managed to reach inside the fairing and turn off the ignition switch. This brought about an uncontrolled deceleration, and a slightly shaken rider pulled to the side of the road. Investigation showed a "made to measure" stone lodged neatly between the throttle stop and the butterfly arm on the left-hand carburettor, resulting in full throttle at all times on 1 cylinder. I now understand why more modern bikes have an engine cutout switch conveniently placed on the handlebars!

DAY 1   THURS 5 MARCH   KAITAIA TO PICTON     995K

The run itself began at 8am from Northland Motors. This was the same place that "Blondini", the star of the movie, originally stole the yellow Mini. Who flagged us away at the start? None other than "Blondini" himself, Kelly Johnson who is now a lawyer living in Whangarei. More than 50 bikes lined the main street, and most shops were empty as vendors and customers alike viewed in awe this cavalcade heading out of town. Apart from some patches of annoying fog, conditions were good as bikes sorted themselves out into smaller groups with similar cruising speeds.

The first checkpoint (and pennant pick-up) was at the Web Bar in Fort St. Auckland. This check was open from 11:30 till 12:30, and as this was 325k from the start, there was not a lot of time to stop or take it easy! The NZ Herald photographer was on hand, and he recorded a formation "ride-by" for posterity. Apart from an annoying patch of drizzle leaving Auckland, conditions were fine.

Second check was in the now bypassed town of Pokeno. Here some riders took their first break but most rapidly checked in and headed for the next check at National Park. Most of us took the back road from Ngaruawahia through to Te Awamutu to avoid the congestion and delays in Hamilton.

Neil and his BMW at the National Park Checkpoint.

On leaving the check at National Park one rider left but quickly returned with furrowed brow. In his keenness to be away quickly he had left his prescription glasses on his pannier bags, and now they were nowhere to be seen. He searched the bike and the roadside, but to no avail. On leaving I decided to ride slowly in the hope that the errant spectacles might be visible. Fortunately not far up the road (but further than he had thought he had travelled) there they were, intact and undamaged. As I stopped to put the bike on the side stand to claim my find, the return spring for the stand broke, and I was unable to ride the bike back with the stand hanging down. I shouted back in a loud clear voice announcing my find, but this seemed to go un-noticed. Wearing a full-face crash helmet may have some what reduced the effectiveness of this verbal communication. Star jumps and basic semaphore finally did the trick, and glasses and owner were re-united. A piece of wire (kept in every motorcyclist's toolkit) had the dangling stand tied up out of harms way, and it was off down the great Para Para road to Wanganui. Quick gas-up (they were all quick on this trip!) and on down to the Ferry terminal by 8:20pm ready for the 10:30pm boat. It was very pleasing to have been able to maintain an average of more than 80k/hour (including stops) over this distance on a bike more than 25 years old (and a rider of twice that number of years!).

The crossing of Cook Straight was as smooth as, and on arrival in Picton at 2am some sleep was in order. I had booked into my usual stop at the Blue Anchor, and they cater well for early / late arrivals. Your name and cabin number is posted on the office door, complete with a camp map. Outside lights for the appropriate cabins are also left on to provide guidance for bleary-eyed travellers. (Who, me?)

DAY 2   FRI 6 MARCH, PICTON TO GREYMOUTH   605K

The run started from the Picton Ferry Terminal at 9:30am. This was quite early enough, especially for those who had come over on the later boat, which arrived at only 4:30am that morning. By the time we hit Kaikoura I’d done 226miles (364k) without gassing up since Wanganui. There aren’t too many petrol stations down the coast, and had done a full 41 miles on reserve, so we were pretty low. Apart from blustery wind the fast blast down the coast was most enjoyable.

The first check of the day was right in Cathedral Square in Christchurch. Being a Friday the whole city seemed to be there with a lot of activity going on. As well as the usual speakers, a juggler, buskers, etc was, of course, "The Wizard". He addressed the assembled bikers, and gave a blessing for a continued safe journey. That guy is certainly one of life's characters, and his rhetoric never fails to capture a significant audience.

Neil looks amused as the Wizard casts a musical spell on someones yellow Mini mascot.

It was now off to do battle with Arthur’s Pass, where we heard they had issued a Heavy Rain Warning! Terrific. Apart from getting lost coming out of Christchurch (I usually do) the ride up to Porter’s Pass was dry but windy but this was soon to change. By Arthur’s Pass Township the rain was heavy, and the wind had become strong and gusty. Visibility dropped and riding conditions became distinctly tricky. Trying to stop to give way to up-coming traffic was nigh on impossible in places with torrents of water and debris washing across the road.

Close to Greymouth is a combined single lane road / rail bridge. This has never been a problem to me in the past, but today was different. As I crossed the rail lines at almost right angles (the recommended procedure) the back wheel slid along the rail line until the whole bike was going sideways on full opposite lock. Only just managed to get it back under control before it either went down completely or harpooned the side of the bridge abutment. At this stage in rather an agitated state I was already onto the actual bridge. Looked up to see 2 cars half way across the bridge coming towards me. Well I sure as hell wasn’t going to backtrack, and there was enough room to pass. I think the drivers had seen my acrobatic antics approaching the bridge, and didn’t appear too concerned at my apparent lack of road manners. Have to remember that one on the way back down the coast tomorrow!

By the time I got to Greymouth the weather was really bad. Strong gusty winds and lots of rain. The gear I had on was wet through, but a hot shower helped to revive the spirits a little. In addition I was becoming more and more concerned with ominous noise emanating from the gearbox. The clutch action had got distinctly snatchy, and horrible graunching sounds occasionally occurred, especially in the lower gears. And, oh yes, the weather forecast was lousy!

I woke at 4am to the sound of absolutely torrential rain and strong winds, and seriously considered staying put for a few days, and then heading home.

DAY 3   SAT 7 MARCH.  GREYMOUTH TO DUNEDIN    866K

Turned up at 8am for the start at the Greymouth railway station. The sky looked slightly broken, and optimistically the weather looked like it might improve. Hope springs eternal in the hearts of all touring motorcyclists! Initially the weather wasn92t too bad, but by Franz Josef the West Coast was giving us it’s worst. The wind became very strong, but this was generally down the coast in the same direction as our soggy pilgrimage. Surface flooding increased, and several substantial slips had occurred across the road. By the time we got to Haast Township the wind was that strong it was blowing spray off the top of the layer of water covering the road. Over the Haast Pass itself there were waterfalls down the rock faces along the roadside. In places you actually rode through the cascading water as it sprayed right out across the road. Truly wonderful riding conditions. There was reportedly over 250mm of rain in this area within 24 hours, and I believe it! While riding over the bridge at the Gates of Haast the roar of the water racing underneath was quite impressive, especially when I unexpectedly hit the area of mud and slush covering the road on the other side. A bit more sideways motoring, and then a little more cautiously onwards.

In Queenstown the weather finally eased momentarily. There were a lot of very damp motorcyclists trying to appear enthusiastic about the conditions as they warmed numbed wet hands under the hand drier at the Remarkables BP service station. A speed camera on the road in had done a roaring trade, with most bikes having had their presence recorded for posterity (or profit!).

The ride across to Dunedin was again wet in places. By this stage the old BMW gearbox was screaming louder than ever, and I was trying to maintain top gear as much as possible to reduce the load on the now terminally ill box. In Dunedin hill starts became impossible, with horrible shudder and screeching noises whenever the clutch was used. The input bearing in the gearbox was surely by now completely shagged. Stayed the night at the flash Pacific Park Motel, just up the hill from the next day’s start point at the Octagon. If needed I could just coast down to the start, but continuing on the run seemed a doubtful possibility. Very disappointing considering there was only about 250k’s to the finish.

DAY 4 SUN 8 MARCH.  DUNEDIN TO INVERCARGILL TO BLUFF  248K

Got to the Octagon early well before the planned 9am start. Even though it was Sunday I managed to ring Uptown Motorcycles who are the local BMW agents. They said they should be able to source the necessary parts, and would be able to start on a gearbox rebuild on Monday the following day. Don Lockart (K75) kindly offered me a seat on his pillion to complete the run. The only problem was where to leave the bike overnight. As a fairly self reliant person I had never in more than 20 odd years membership used the BMW Owners’ Register Tour Guide, but this seemed the obvious answer. The first guy I rang was Mike Fitzgerald, who said yes, I was more than welcome to store the bike at his place. He lived out on the Portobello Road, and would await our arrival. Don followed me out just in case, but we made it OK. Mike had already cleared a space in his garage to take my bike. As I put it on the main stand a great pool of gear oil instantly appeared under the bike. Pieces of bearing cage were visible on the tray under the engine. The cage had finally collapsed completely, and demolished the front oil seal on the way out. Definitely no more go!

I was absolutely delighted when Mike suggested I borrow his own Paris Dakar BMW to complete the ride. A quick transfer of gear, and we were off on the final leg. The Paris Dakar, although still a true Boxer took a little getting used to. Both the gear change and brake pedals are tucked well out of the way under the cylinders, and initially took a little finding. It was certainly great to be on the road again, and without the worrying gearbox woes.

Due to our delays we reached the "official" finish at the Invercargill Cemetery gates a little late, but meet up with the group again at the New Eagle Tavern in Bluff for the after run function. Two kegs of beer and a sumptuous feed greeted the weary travellers. With much socialising, eating, drinking, and the smoking of several ceremonial cigars, the first ever Pork Pie Run drew to a close. With 50 odd starters, only one crashed out (on Arthur’s Pass), but continued as a passenger on Reg's trike. Apart from the couple that turned back on the last day due to death in the family, all riders finished. (That couple was allowed to finish at a later date). It was certainly a challenging ride.

After Run Party -New Eagle Hotel Bluff.

Roll on the next Southern Cross!

DAY 5   MON 9 MARCH.   BLUFF TO DUNEDIN    248K

On leaving Bluff the drizzle turned to more rain, but this cleared nearing Dunedin. Mike had already organised delivery of my bike to Uptown Motorcycles, and I called in there on the way through. Sure enough the gearbox-input bearing had lost its cage and collapsed. They were sourcing parts from throughout the country, but were hopeful of having the job completed by the following night. This they achieved, and after staying overnight in Dunedin, I picked the bike up at 5:30pm on Tuesday night.

DAY 7   WED 11 MARCH.  DUNEDIN TO PICTON     792K

Rode straight up the East Coast to Picton. By this stage the long drought in this area had well and truly broken. It rained heavily for at least 600k, and I was getting a little sick of the wet by this stage.

DAY 8   THURS 12 MARCH.  WELLINGTON TO WHAKATANE    557K

Got the ferry at the civilised hour of 10:30am, landing at Wellington at 2pm. The crossing was not particularly smooth, with numerous passengers utilising paper bags during the voyage. The weather finally improved and I actually saw the sun for quite a long period up the Kapiti coast. As usual there was a patch of rain up over the Desert Road, but this had passed by Turangi. Heading round the Rotorua lakes the headlight main beam stopped working, so rode the last few ks at reduced speed on dip. The fault was probably just water in the switch, as it now seems to have cured itself.

Home at last at 8:30pm!

In 6 full days riding I had covered 4481k on the old 1972 R75 / 5 BMW, and a further 500+k’s on the Paris Dakar on the 2 half days ride to and from Bluff. This run was enjoyable, and would have been a lot less arduous if the weather had not been so consistently rotten. Next time, who knows?

--NEIL BARNARD

BMWOR #19