Exploring New Zealand’s North Island

I’ve been exploring New Zealand north-to-south by tent and bicycle, where escape was due after days of torrential rain across the heart of North Island. Heading west along Forgotten World Highway is the Republic of Whangamōmona, a tiny curve-in-the-road town that seceded in cheeky revolt to elect Billy Gumboots the Goat as president, an actual goat whom challengers suspected had eaten their ballots to steal the win.

Raced more impending downpours toward the southeast cape for bits of a bikepacking route known as “No. 8 Wired.” Cascading wine country gives way to dramatic shale cliffs and graveling back road oceanside. Hoards of baby fur seals crooned from the rocky shore, waddling and wide-eyed in curiosity.

Winds become astonishing below the famed “Roaring 40s” latitude line, ripping across the Tasman Sea with hurricane force. You can only wait for them to shift and ride the sky like a sail. Then up and over the Rimutaka Range at golden hour where I couldn’t help but stop for photos every 90 seconds. Here was the first suspension bridge to give me heebie jeebies. “You’ll notice the loose cable,” a warning sign read. “We’ve had it inspected; all’s safe to ride for now.”