A little later Hans decides that a
REAL-CLOSE look at the road-edge in order, somehow managing to get a gravel-berm between the chin-piece and peak of the helmet, giving an instant fat-lip and small bruise under the eye, which would grow into a sizeable shiner over the next few days...resulting in the obvious questions where ever we stop.
He could still smile and and clamp his upper lip over the edge of a beer-glass, so all wasn't lost
Back on Hwy2 it’s a breezy and quickish ride to Wairoa, interspersed by some heavy showers out of those blackbellies above. Time to pull the pin and find a roof.
The small restaurant next to the motel seems to be the only open place in town, everything else looks like a carbon-copy of Raetihi.
The last blue hole above Wairoa...
Ready to roll by 7 again tomorrow?
Let's sleep in, make it an extra half hour.
TimC's smile is a happy one...
...carving through the bright-green, scrunched-up, sharp-edged landscape is an endless up and down, every bend and crest bringing new views and things to gawk at...
.
