Just Twist Your Wrist And Go!

I now finally understand the appeal of motorcycles as transportation.  The freedom of access and ease of use make them ideal for quick trips of exploration and adventure, and they are easy to operate and maintain.  Granted, what I am riding upon is not remotely in the realm of "Easy Rider" or that of a biker gang, rather, my machine of choice falls within the ilk of "Delivery Boy" or "Collegiate Campus Shuttle".  It is a not-so-sleek, two-person, under-powered, garden-variety 50cc scooter that sounds more like an angry insect rather than a hell-beast, v-twin "hog".  But you know what?  I wouldn't have it any other way.  Sure, I hold up traffic sometimes; I look like a circus bear on a bicycle; I weigh 15kgs more than the machine...but it just works, and it is un-matched as an around-town buzzer. 

[Umbrella Girl not included]

There are often moments when I miss the capacity and range of a proper car, and I would certainly go the route of buying a beater if I were to do it all over.  But, all things considered, I think the choice to willing ride the least sexy option of motorized vehicles has thus far been a far better idea than I could have hoped.  I can literally park anywhere, which in a town like Queenstown, is a major benefit.  No one asks me for rides (though if they did, I'm actually not sure the poor scooter could handle myself and a passenger), and it costs next-to-nothing to run.  The funniest thing about it though is not it's size compared to the rider (me), or the shitty condition it is in; it's that the horn on it is legitimately loud and just the right side of "funny but still effective". 
If I had to choose the biggest downfall of it though, it wouldn't be the lack of speed (any who knows me will attest that the less-powerful, the better), the lack of protection from the elements, or the maddening buzzing sound of the engine...the biggest downfall is that everyone can hear me.  In a car, provided the windows are up, you can have a total melt down, belligerently accosting the idiots on the road with you in a fit of paint-peeling blue streak road rage, and all people would really be able to see/hear is your reddening face, flecks of spit shotgunning the windscreen, and perhaps muffled, unintelligible yelling.  On a scooter though, your face is only covered by a helmet, which is anything but sound-proof.  So, while your face is covered, everyone can still see what you look like otherwise and can hear the terrible, unforgivable things you just unleashed upon the witless driver in front of you (or pedestrian - I almost ran over a group of people standing literally in the road, as though it were a sidewalk...tourists are the bane of this lovely city). 
Pros and Cons of a scooter are certainly subjective at the end of the day, but I think that taken in stride and in good humor, ownership of a motorized push-toy is something everyone should experience.  It is equally liberating as it is [sometimes] exhilarating, and you discover a whole new world of travel opportunities (or lack there of).  So, the next time you're asking yourself, "What do I spend all this cash burning a hole in my pocket on?" - buy a 50cc scooter.  You don't need a special license, you don't need to take a test.  Best of all, you can tune them cheaply to make them faster, while maintaining the dignity of not actually owning a Harley like every other adult having a mid-life crisis. 

The Witching Hour

And there she stood: sobbing, covered in her own puke, unwilling to comprehend that repeating, "Where's Stu?!" wasn't going to cause him to magically appear.  But, before we get into that any further, let's take a look at how the night started...

Just some casual two-person pool action.

Another Casual Friday, I had just finished pumping out some curls-for-the-girls at the gym, and it was time to head over to Lonestar for Craig's birthday gathering.  As per usual, I was late arriving, but for once I had a cool excuse: for the first time in all my years of being a Meathead, a girl showed interest in me at the gym based on how much I was lifting - pretty cool if you ask me...(just let me have my moment here, ok?  It is fleeting, don't worry...).  Anyhow, after I finished basking in the spotlight for a literal second, we all gathered 'round, eating, drinking, and being merry.  After a while, the manager tells us the patio where we are sitting is closing, so that's our cue to move the party along.  The middle part of this story is pretty typical:  beer; friends; shenanigans; girls; the usual.
The tail end of the night, around 2:30am, is where things become worthy of note again.  Craig's "new German friend" leaves with her friend, he is crest-fallen.  He thought he was going to get to have his cake and eat it too...maybe next year bud!  We exit stage left, and make our way up town to the real event of the night:  The Running of The River.  A little background:  there is a small "river" that runs through central Queenstown that the city, instead of diverting it, built a neat series of tunnels to funnel it under the roads and buildings.  Back to the night; shoes are coming off, iPhone lights are being turned on, and a group of drunk dudes start wading into a shallow "river", and proceed to walk upstream, into the dark.  A very sober me, siting on the grassy bank watching a poorly-lit groups of Brits stumbling through the lazy current, realizes that this is no time for passing on participation, and with shoes still firmly tied to feet, hops in and wades up after the group.

The Running Of The River

The Running of The River is a rite of passage, and I'm quite glad I found my age again and walked through the Ninja Turtle's house.  The water was cold, the footing was questionable, and the judgment was semi-sound.  Pictures were taken, jokes were made, and most importantly, a bonding experience was had - the whole package really.  Upon exiting the tunnel, on the other side of town, pies were bought, and the night was regaled with great enthusiasm and shit-talking.  That's when the sobbing mess came stumbling by, blinded by booze, relationship issues, and being Basic.  I tried to help, and really, the end result was just that our new friend Steph stumbled off again towards the bars, instead of the woods like she had been originally.  It ain't all "glass slippers and fairy godmothers" every time you put your heals on and go out I guess (I wouldn't know anything about that at any rate).  Just another Friday Night in Queenstown...

Back In The Saddle

After a little time off from hucking, my cankle is looking more like an ankle again, so that means it is time to ride! Today, I joined up with some friends for a sweet morning/afternoon of dirt surfing and river-fording, it was an excellent time.  The sun was blasting, the smiles were wide, and I got to see a little bit more of eNZed!  One thing I am going to be proactive about in the coming weeks, is getting out and about, and exploring some of the nooks and crannies in the hills.  Having a social circle finally is proving helpful in this endeavor, as riding with friends is always a better time - and it helps when they know where the secret stashes are!
Today's ride was a 13.5 mile haul up/across Coronet Peak, down into Arrowtown, and back out.  It was a riot out on the trails, and I was continually in awe of the variations in topography we journeyed through in such a relatively short distance/time span.  The descent off the peak was a steep affair, which emptied into a flat catch basin that the trail crisscrossed while following the wandering path of a large stream.  The various crossings of our watery company were actually the more nerve-wracking moments for me, as I was the caboose of the bike train and the water was misty with churned up muck after six other riders had blasted through before me, and I couldn't see what I was about to roll into - dicey!

Some locals and some pros - down here, it's all high fives and no egos.

I did my best to ride at about 70-80% in order to preserve my poor ailing joints, and in even though I wasn't riding at a "race-pace" speed, it was still a great day out among the trees and tall grass.  It was definitely an interesting learning experience in terms of how to dial back the intensity of riding while not spacing out and crashing; often not pushing it leads to lethargic riding and lazying thinking, and in turn crashing tends to happen.  But, I think the dull ache of the almost-an-ankle-again was reminder enough that it would be to my benefit to not have an unplanned departure from the bike.  With that said, I did find myself sprawled among jungle-like grass after an unexpected section of muddied ruts made themselves known...at least the grass was soft.
Unrelated to today, I have finally procured a new computer after my poor workhorse laptop start to show signs of needing to be finally put out to pasture.  While it has served well, and may still have some life left, it was time to bring in a newer, fresher machine.  That also means I can edit photos again, so this blog will finally be graced soon with non-Instagram photos!  Keep an eye out for a post in the near future featuring some proper shots!

Clear For Take Off...err, hang on, this is going to be a rough landing too.

If you're going to fail, do so with style.  I'm fine, thanks for asking - just sporting a nice left cankle with complimentary rainbow aesthetics.  I didn't even get a chance to revel in the moment of, "Sick, I got this..." as the bike's suspension ejected me as I left the lip of the jump.  Sometimes, things don't quite work out as planned.  At least the view is excellent...

Forcast calls for a lot of WTF weather.

  I wouldn't call it a case of "writer's block", but this week has been slow for inspiration.  I blame the weird weather we've been having.  Last night, the wind sounded like it was howling hard enough to scour the Earth, and that I might perhaps wake up to a vacant landscape, reminiscent of the Martian surface, though perhaps less red.  Thankfully, my house is made of concrete, and the wind was actually not blowing in such a fantastical manner.  When I arose in the morning, I was greeted by whitecaps on the lake and, would you believe it, snow-capped mountains.  Not just a silly dusting that was gone by noon either - there is a proper amount of frozen water atop the peaks.  Quite the interesting sight for mid-summer!

Looking up the lake from town on the evening.

  There has been expressed interest in having more photos being shared in these posts (beyond what is already available for viewing on Instagram), and unfortunately for the time being, I am unable to do that due to an issue with the graphics card on my computer.  It's being sorted out, but it's going to take some time, and thus, the photos I have been shooting won't be viewable for an unknown amount of time - so the iPhone shots will have to suffice for the time being; such dire times. 
  In a total non-sequitur, February 6th here in eNZed is a holiday called Waitangi Day.  Reading about it, I kind of wonder why it's a holiday, especially considering the verbal explanation I was given today was, "...Yeah, basically the British bought New Zealand off the Maori for like, $300, and that's what today commemorates."  Right from the mouth of a Kiwi who is 70% Maori - this was explained to several of us (non-Kiwis) and we couldn't quite figure out why this was worth celebrating...it would be like having a holiday for the sale of Long Island for a handful of acorns and stones all those years ago.  I usually don't celebrate being ripped off, but hey, traditions vary place to place.
  Similarly, I hitched a ride into town with a Semitruck driver on Thursday, so that was pretty cool.  First time I've had to literally climb into a vehicle to hitchhike, and then also the first time I've nearly fallen out of a vehicle to disembark from the free ride.  The driver was wicked cool, and also Maori as it were - I meet the most interesting people when I don't take the bus... 

Just Another Week In Queenstown

There is an odd conundrum in the world of downhill mountain bike racing: is it fast to pedal a descent, or "work" the trail features to gain speed?  Having no chain means you can't pedal, but twice in the past month, the "chainless times" have been faster than the fully-equipped times that had been previously set. This is a curious development, and raises a lot of technical questions and ideas about how bikes are ridden; all I know is that I still tried to pedal out of a corner or two and almost ate it.  These events are always a hoot and bring smiles to the faces of the riders. I was making all sorts of happy sounds as I speed-tucked, pumped, drifted, and white-knuckled my way through two race runs. Several people actually commented on how much fun I seemed to be having and was making them laugh as I flew by cackling like a madman.

Lazy racing means sitting down and hanging a foot. @si_williams_ through the looking glass.

That event was on Saturday, and then there was another race on Tuesday night, one of the series races put on by the gang at Vertigo Bikes. That particular event had some of the best shit-talking and queue line banter I've heard in a while.  Before we could even start our runs, we had to throw a disc-golf frizbee at a sign, and hit the sign (four tries to get it done) - like a true champion, I nailed the sign on the first toss; didn't even wait for the disc to hit, I knew it was a good throw!  The race itself was less than stellar, as I crashed twice. The only damages were my destroyed water bottle cage (I had to throw the bottle to a spectator, who kindly returned it to me at the bar after the race), and the pile of logs I plowed into, after pinballing into two trees. I managed to knock a small-person-sized log into the trail and had to remove it before I set off again. Not my finest showing at a race.  The after party at the local bar was a hilarious night as usual.  The day's winner of the race was suspected of riding the wrong trail, hence beating 2nd place by 10-seconds.  But, who really cares when there is free beer at the end of the race?  I ended up going out until 2am that night, all in the name of "why not?" In true Second Summer fashion I woke up at noon the next day, but it was a fun mid-week bit of shenanigans. 

@tommyawilkinson on the Trigger; Nearly ate it trying to roost him for the shot.

Unrelated: this page has just reached 1,000 views, so that's also pretty neat  My updates have been sporadic because my computer is on the fritz again.  It's 'fixed' now, but the computer dude didn't really 'fix' the problem - I'm not entirely sure what he did for the hour I was billed.  I'll be having a follow up chat with him on that...in the mean time though, I should be back to regularly updating this page at this point.