The Ride of the Molestrangler

Good evening,

I have just received this tale from Dayle, and thought I'd share it with you all...

Hi all.

Well, I'm back in one piece from the Scooter Safari and would like to report mixed results.

The ride started from my work at Air NZ's Hangar 1 at 8.00am on Saturday morning. Fortunately our Good Lord was kind and the was no wind or frost.

Although the ride was limited to 250 scooters, some interlopers did sneak in, so it was very busy for the first few minutes until the pack sorted itself out.

I passed the first dead scooter well before Orana Park, just west of the airport, and the carnage continued steadily on from there. Fortunately my little Chinese engine kept buzzing away, which was a great relief as the carburettor had decided to commit hari-kari the day before leaving me in a blind panic rushing around Christchurch trying to find another!

My mate Fingers on a very similar bike struck problems early on, while my other friend Haydn, on another powered-bike, gave me the [edited for delicate sensibilities!] and disappeared into the distance.

The first stop was at Kirwee and my aching back forced me to raise the handle bars an inch or two, which proved to be a bonus.

By the time I got to Sheffield my back had gone numb and the Molestrangler had proved itself to be reliable but slow. I was near the back of the group but still making steady progress.

After a short stop to refuel bike and rider we carried on to what was my main fear, Porters Pass. By this time a strongish headwind and the incline were causing the Molestrangler some distress, but worse was to come at Porters Pass when she said, "Enough fella; I'm taking a rest and you're walking."

There was no shame in this as there were numerous other riders doing the same thing. I got to about half way up when one of my support crew offered me a lift. Bravely, I said no, I'm walking to the top and carried on.

Five minutes later a total stranger offered me a lift in his van. This time courage and determination took a hike and I hitched a ride.

I met up with my other team-mate Andy in his tiny Suzuki FA50 and we cruised down towards the next stop at Lake Lyndon. On the way, we were passed by Fingers who seemed to have overcome his difficulties and was going like a rocket.

By the time we got to Lake Lyndon nearly everyone else but our crew had gone, so we quickly re-fuelled and carried on. The ride across the plateau was like a race in slow motion as Andy would get away from me and then I would catch him etc. It was through here I saw the massive top speed of just under 70kph! (downhill, clutch in, motor off!!)

Again we stopped at Flock Hill Station for some fuel and to tighten a couple of nuts that were vibrating loose. (I checked the bike as well!) It was here I found out that Fingers was having more problems and Hayden's bike had a terminal electrical issue. On the other hand, the Molestrangler (which up until the day before had been giving me gray hairs) was not setting the world on fire, but hadn't missed a beat. It wasn't too keen on the higher altitude and was down a little on power (which is an issue when you've got b... all to start with!) but it seemed happy to keep plugging on.

The next stop was at the Bealy Pub for lunch. The ride through the latter part of this area covered alot of the same road I'd traversed many years before on the Coast to Coast. In a joke at my own expense, I noted I was alot faster back then without an engine! Andy and I arrived at the Bealy, but we pretty much missed lunch because of our late arrival. The weather looked a bit grim ahead, so we changed into more suitable gear.

We had another massed start at the Bealy and headed towards Arthurs Pass, where after another re-group we started up the climb towards the top of the pass.

This was my next greatest worry because I was certain I would have another pushing session here, but the Molestrangler was in it's stride. I had to pedal assist a few times, but we did make it up without dropping below 20kph.

The weather at the top of the pass was atrocious and the visibility awful, but inside my helmet I was smiling because I thought, "This little b...s done it! It's got me top the top of the pass. All we have to do is get down the (Otira) viaduct and it's down hill from there."

I'd spoke (or thought) too soon. A minute or so later I noticed the forks (they hold the front wheel on) wobble a bit and the steering started to miss-behave. I pulled over for a look and saw the weld at the top of the forks had let go and they were all but broken. That was it, our day was over.I waited in the rain for my crew to arrive. We loaded the bike and I got into a car.

I had mixed feelings sitting in the back of a car as I went down the viaduct. I was disappointed at the way we went out. Everyone had expected the cheap Chinese motor to explode and die on the road somewhere, but it didn't. It was the only such machine to keep running and it was let down by a structural failure.

On the up-side I was glad it happened at the top of the pass and not while I was bombing down the viaduct. That would have been an ugly prospect!

The bright side was that Andy on his wee FA50 was still trucking along. We stopped at Jackson's and Kumara for him and it was a real pleasure to see him keep going. He was the underdog of the team and he (and the wee FA50) turned in a champion performance, all the way to Holitika on a bike desinged for a max load of 79kg's! (and Andy's not 79kg's!!)

The true bright side of the day was that we were part of a $230,000 fund-raising effort for the cancer society. On my helmet I had an inscription dedicating the ride to my uncle Murdo and Ani's aunty Juliette. Both people were real characters, the sort of people that would have revelled in the fun and the atmosphere of the scooter safari, so I'm sure they'd both had a smile at their chubby middle-aged nephew struggling on his powered bike and may have given me the odd push on a hill when I was too knackered to notice.

Thanks to you all for your help and support.

Well done Dayle for getting that far - I was sure it'd bomb out before Springfield!! :-)

Mr Grant