When things turn to custard

Long-term readers of this blog will remember several posts (the first being in November 2011) about the older motorcycle rider and upskilling to prolong one's riding in safety. It generated a lot of productive discussion and even ended up as a chapter topic in one of US motorcycling guru David Hough's motorcycle safety books.

As a brief reminder, I joined the NZ branch of the UK Institute of Advanced Motorists, learning Police Roadcraft and progressing from raw recruit to Examiner before retiring from riding at 75 years of age in 2022. The benefit was massive and still is, not only in terms of riding and driving skills but also interpersonal aspects of life and much more besides.

The question of when to stop riding altogether became a regular discussion topic and the answer very much depends on individual circumstances. My retirement took 2 distinct steps.  As an IAM Examiner/mentor, I'd regularly cover 500 km days from our rural home and as I got older and several years of doing it in all weathers, I retired from official duties and just did social riding in our area which is a rider's paradise.  The final step followed the inevitable acceptance that old bodies don't bounce too well in an accident, irrespective of who was at fault. Sooner or later, there was a good chance of a serious "off" occurring.

My last ever motorcycle ride

The decision to stop wasn't particularly traumatic, perhaps surprisingly as it had been a passion for not far short of 60 years.  That was down to a deliberate act on my part to have some decent fall-back interests to replace the void left by riding bikes.  Where we live had some bearing on this.  A runabout for sea fishing was purchased as it was something that Jennie and I could enjoy together, particularly as we can launch within a couple of minutes of home.  It was Jennie's suggestion that we bought a classic car as the classics scene is particularly active in our area and the roads are a perfect fit.  After a rocky start when we couldn't agree what to buy, our 1972 MGB GT has worked out perfectly.  Serendipity actually, as it also happens to be the year we married!  The Coromandel Peninsula also has great bike trails so an e-mountain bike was purchased for a bit of fun and as a nod to staying fit.  So there we are - plenty of fall-back activities to replace motorcycling or whatever your long-term passion has been.

The Giant Talon e+1 MTB

Over the last 12 months, I've had both knees replaced, the last one only a few weeks ago.  That's down to sport when I was younger but cycling has been good for them, as well as being part of rehab.  Also great for cardio health and as an extra bonus, I've lost over 12 kg in the 2 1/2 years of ownership.  Visited some great out of the way places too.  What could possibly go wrong?

Less than 2 weeks ago, I continued my rehab with a decent off-road ride involving altitude changes through farmland and forest.  Riding on an uphill part of the trail, the clay surface had turned to marbles as we haven't had rain for some time. Without warning, the bike developed wheelspin, snapped sideways on the pronounced trail camber and spat me off.  I knew I was in serious trouble as my leg just flopped about and the pain was off the scale.  I didn't know then but I'd broken my femur just below the ball.  I always carry a phone and made the call to Jennie for help.  After giving me an earful, she got onto the ambulance service who accurately located me with an app which they emailed.  Fortunately, I was less than 1km into the trail at that stage. A couple of passers-by were able to offer initial assistance, then Jennie turned up, followed by my local doctor and one of his practice nurses who had been notified by the ambulance service.  The local ambulance wasn't available and one from the next town was an hour away so some happy juice was administered to help with the pain, especially major muscle spasms.  Interestingly, ketamine didn't make me run off at the mouth or any other unfortunate side effects, but it certainly dulled the pain.

A number of other locals turned up to help and as it wasn't possible to get the ambulance to the crash site, a local fishing charter operator carefully drove his Toyota Hilux utility up the narrow trail.  More happy juice and I was lifted onto the back of the Hilux - something I never wish to experience again!  Transferred to the ambulance which then drove 160 km to Waikato Hospital, which had all the required resources.  To shorten the story, I was operated on to reattach the ball, being sent home a few days ago to begin painful rehab. 

Looking like Frankenstein's Monster in hospital

Relieved to be home

Some of the bruising between knee and thigh - plenty more coming out:

Just a tad tender

With the festive season upon us and lots of outdoor activities in the warmer months, there's plenty of incentive to put the effort in to getting fit again.  Getting in and out of the MG is likely to be a stumbling block for a while.  Less so for our daily drivers.  Robust negotiations with Mrs J have been concluded (and by probable default, our daughter).  Mountain bike ownership will continue to be permitted as long as I stick to sealed roads or level gravel trails which aren't goat tracks.  As there are no level gravel trails within 50 km of home, Jennie has me neatly cornered.  Our sons have wisely not taken sides, at least publicly. They don't want to antagonise their mother but I suspect that privately, they might entertain the thought that slightly risky pastimes when reaching the same age as their father is what life is all about.  I don't intend to fan those particular flames.

I'd like to acknowledge the local Coromandel residents who appeared as if from nowhere to rescue me.  I feel pretty emotional about that and am working on a plan to recognise their wonderful assistance.  Community care is alive and well!  All countries on Earth appear to have challenges with their health services and NZ is no different.  However, the ambulance staff and hospital team from orderlies to surgeons couldn't be faulted in the care which they gave to me - delivered with grace and good humour too.

Just to round things off, there are a couple of noteworthy thoughts to take away.  Firstly, knowing when to stop doing things isn't a bad thing. In my case, age dictates that pastimes involving potential injury is going to have consequences.  I don't have any difficulty in cutting challenging off-road trails out of my future.  Secondly, have a fall-back plan for when something which has been a lifelong passion has to be flagged away.  I've still got a few fall-backs which makes life well worth looking forward to.  I hope that you have too.  My over-riding plan is never to have to say "If only....."

Every good wish for a magnificent 2025!

Classic exhaust sounds, a replacement muffler and an MG Christmas lunch

Some vehicles have such a distinctive exhaust note that you know what they are before you see them, irrespective whether they're bikes or cars.  My KTM 790 was like that, partially due to the 435 degree "big bang" firing order. Showing my age, Mike Hailwood's 1960's Honda 6 cylinder 250/350cc race bikes arguably had the best exhaust note of any i/c engine ever produced (HERE).  I've also read that the crisp exhaust note of the first and second generation Mazda MX-5 Miata was deliberately engineered to mimic the Lotus Elan, which allegedly provided the inspiration for the Miata.  Similarly, the 1.8 litre MGB and GT has a flat, distinctive burble.  Here 'tis:

I love the sound of our GT echoing off roadside cliffs and buildings, particularly on downshifts.  The human ear is a wonderful thing and a few days ago, it didn't sound "quite right" - call it a "gut feel" if you prefer. A quick inspection didn't reveal anything and I was left wondering whether it was my imagination.  The following day, we were returning home from lunch at a local beach cafe and the exhaust note was definitely louder and a little different - time for a proper look when we got home.

The problem was obvious when shining a torch underneath - a hole around 20mm diameter had appeared near the entry to the muffler.  A closer inspection revealed that quite a bit of the area around the hole was paper thin.  The external paint on the muffler was fine so clearly, it was internal corrosion which had caused the problem.  It was a regular occurrence on older cars with a lack of corrosion-resistant materials.  Short journeys also contribute to the problem where exhaust systems don't get sufficiently hot to evaporate moisture.  This was certainly the case with the previous owner (custodian?) of the MG.

Living a fair distance from major centres, getting replacement parts either involves mail order or a lengthy trip in one of our other cars.  A temporary fix was in order until a permanent solution could be organised.  A tube of exhaust cement was discovered in the shed and the recycle bin was raided for an empty aluminium can of alcohol-free cider!  Half an hour later, a patch had been cut and wired in place, and a gentle drive made to cure the cement.  A complete success and back to the typical MG exhaust note!

An alcohol-free exhaust repair!

Just in case the muffler was non-standard, I sent a sketch with dimensions to the MG specialist in Auckland.  Fortunately, it was the correct original and they had a replacement in stock which arrived a couple of days later.

A pristine muffler replacement

Being the eternal optimist with an hour before dinner, I set about changing the muffler.  What could possibly go wrong with just two clamps holding it in place?  Jack up the rear end to give a bit better access and slacken off the front and rear clamps.

Getting improved access, but not good enough

Unfortunately, Murphy's Law intervened.  The clamps were easy enough to remove but the muffler was stuck fast onto the exhaust system, a combination of underseal and carbon I suppose.  There wasn't sufficient room under the car for me to deliver a decent blow to the front of the muffler to break the seal.  No convenient underbody ledges to try and jack it backwards either.

Exhaust pipe well and truly wedged into muffler

Darn it!  The only thing to do was have a word with friend and near-neighbour Bruce, who owns a garage in the village and services our modern cars.  Bruce has proper vehicle hoists which give sufficient clearance to have a decent swing with a mallet to break the seal between the muffler and exhaust pipe.  My initial reluctance to ask Bruce for help was the amount of mickey-taking I'd have to endure about old farts in old cars.  Amazingly, he was quite restrained and within half an hour, the job was done.  Bruce's king-sized mallet did the trick!

New muffler ready for clamping up

Bruce putting the finishing touches to the bolt-up

There was further concern when Bruce spotted that the handbrake cable which runs between the rear wheels off hangers on the rear axle was rubbing against the exhaust pipe.  It clearly had the capability to damage both components although there was something at the back of my mind which suggested that I'd previously read about this issue.  When I got home, a quick search on the MG Experience internet forum revealed all.  Bruce's vehicle hoist lifts on the bodywork which meant that the rear axle and suspension were unloaded and dangled further down than normal, causing the cable to foul the exhaust pipe .  However, with the suspension supporting the bodywork in the normal driving position, there was plenty of clearance - phew!  I'd never previously noticed the condition as I jack the rear of the car off the differential, simulating the normal road-going configuration.  Every day is a school day!

Today, we travelled the 320 km round trip to Hamilton to attend the MG club's regional Christmas lunch. Our near-neighbours in Coromandel who own a couple of MG's also attended. Our cars were polished to within an inch of their lives so that we weren't regarded as the poor country cousins to the city members. Imagine our surprise when we found out that we were the only ones who bothered to turn up in our MG's - the rest were in their everyday drivers!  Poor show by the locals but our neighbours won 2 of the 3 raffle prizes on offer too - karma!

A quick update

The trip through the Australian Outback in August was sensationally good, September and October to date have been rather less so!  We arrived back in NZ and both Jennie and I were laid low with severe chest infections which very nearly put us in hospital. It wasn't Covid but may have been an influenza variant.  All we could do for a few weeks was sleep and exist on protein drinks.  It was the worst that either of us had felt in decades and it was fortunate that we were both fairly fit in terms of recovery.  Losing a further 4kg on top of the 12 kg lost over the last 2 years from mountain biking means a certain amount of expenditure on new clothes!

Unfortunately, this meant that I had to cancel my scheduled second knee replacement but that finally happened a few days ago in Auckland where I had the first one done last year.  I detailed that experience at the time so there's no need for much comment other than to repeat just how good the team and systems are at Ormiston private hospital in Auckland. Literally everyone at all levels of the organisation are focussed on making the patient stay as pleasant as possible.  An example, which whilst minor in nature; typified the human touch.  A theatre nurse walked with me from the waiting area to the theatre.  She linked fingers and we held hands on the short walk.  I made some smartass remark about how nice it was considering that we hardly knew each other and she deadpanned that she wanted to make sure that I didn't do a runner from the hospital!  A perfect response to break the tension. Everything went well and 2 hours later, I was sitting in Recovery sucking on a lemon ice cream - awesome! Four hours after that, I was walking the hospital corridors with the aid of a Zimmer frame. 

Nice view of Ormiston at midnight from my room window

My only "complaint" is rather trivial.  A catheter was inserted you know where for the first 36 hours.  When it came time for removal, the nurse said it wouldn't hurt, just feel a bit odd.  With my English heritage, you'd think that a uniformed nurse getting up close and personal could have erotic undertones.  It doesn't - not even close!  If ever I have a catheter removed in future, I want to be as high as a kite when it happens, thanks! 

Shortly after catheter removal - not a lot to smile about....

Pink leg is from antiseptic paint

Two days after surgery, I was sent home; having demonstrated the ability to negotiate stairs on crutches.  Now comes the painful bit - rehabilitation exercises!  Jennie has taken it on herself to make sure that I don't backslide or do dumb stuff.  Just after arrival home, she headed out to the supermarket with the warning "Don't do anything stupid whilst I'm away".  Hardly a ringing endorsement of faith in me following orders, is it?  With summer not far off, it's a good incentive to get mobile again.  Aiming to be back on the mountain bike riding gentle trails by early December.  Should be able to drive my RAV4 or Jennie's Jazz RS in about 2 weeks but the MGB GT will be more problematic.  Firstly, it's a manual but the ergonomics will probably stop me from getting in and out of it.  Maybe 4-6 weeks for that one.

Most countries seem to complain about the indifferent state of their health systems but my personal experiences of the NZ health system has been outstanding in terms of outcomes but most importantly, arising from the dedication of the wonderful people working in it.  Absolutely worth their weight in gold.

We drove the 150-odd km from home to the hospital a day early to get settled into our nearby accommodation and to organise a new offside wing mirror for Jennie's car which had been smashed off whilst parked in our village a few days previously.  We had a picnic lunch at Maraetai Beach in Auckland's eastern suburbs and there were heaps of retired greybeard types like me doing some fishing.   Every one of them had a drone to take their line offshore for about 800 metres and the following photo shows the guys nearest to us.

Is it really fishing?

Admittedly, the technology is impressive although it takes about 30 minutes to get set up.  Bait the line, hook it to the drone and press the button on the controller.  The expensive ones seem to be programmable to drop the baited line, return and land without further intervention from the fisherman.  Most of the rods had electronic warning devices for when a fish was hooked.  Not a lot of skill required, eh?  In this particular instance, no fish either which I found perversely pleasing!  At least from our boat, we have normal rods to catch them.  Well, Jennie catches them and takes the mickey at my relative lack of success compared with her.  Maybe I'm just a grumpy old geezer - certainly hope so!  

A good news story to end with.  Rehab has included watching the America's Cup finals from Barcelona.  Good old YouTube has it live at 1am NZT.  Current Cup holders NZ are competing against Great Britain in the best of 13 races final and NZ are leading 4-0.  It's the oldest sporting trophy in the world and was first competed for in 1851 between the British and America.  The British got a hiding and in all that time, still have to record a win.  Hope I haven't jinxed things.  C'mon NZ!!!

Taihoro, NZ's America's Cup defender (file photo)

Normal service to be resumed next time......

Adventure to the Red Centre, part 6 (final)

Uluru and the Olgas

Oh no!  Rubbing sleep from eyes for a dawn departure into the Northern Territory and the Lasseter Highway to Uluru.  Actually, it wasn't as bad as expected as the light and skies at that time in the desert were absolutely magnificent.

Here comes the sun, la la.....

Amazing cloud formations

Can't miss the Northern Territory sign

A welcome from one of the locals

This part of the trip seemed to be the province of the ubiquitous Aussie road trains which could really shift and clearly, any overtakes needed to be planned well in advance because of their length.  Here's an example parked at the Erldunda Roadhouse.  

A certain skill set is required to drive one of these

It was while stopping at Erldunda for refreshments that yours truly made a complete arse of himself (a technical term).  A good coffee and an Aussie meat pie would hit the spot nicely.  Liking spicy food, I bought one of these:

Buy one of these at your peril

Yes, I saw the extreme heat warning before purchase but marketing speak has always been over-hyped and disappointing.  Biting off a large chunk and wolfing it down saw me instantly transported to a world of pain.  The big mistake was taking the first bite in the presence of some of our fellow travellers, especially Jennie who never passes up an opportunity for a bit of mickey-taking.  With eyes pouring tears, nose running like a tap and sweating profusely, I simply couldn't talk whilst those around me were close to tears of their own.  After a few minutes, I regained my voice and simply said, "Bless me" (or something of a cruder equivalent which brought even more laughter).  I've eaten some hot foods in my time but bloody hell.......  Remainder of pie quickly consigned to a rubbish bin whist I composed myself.

Comedy act over, it was time to continue to Yulara, the stopping off point for Uluru.

Salt pan on the Lasseter Highway

We soon came upon a massive tabletop rock rising from the desert but it wasn't Uluru.  Still impressive though.  Almost certain that it was Mt Conner.

Mt Conner

Arriving at the Sails in the Desert complex late afternoon, it really was an oasis in barren land and pretty impressive.  The buffet-style meal in the dining room that evening was equally impressive.  

Ghost gum tree

The plan for the morning was to travel in the dark to a viewing platform about 20 minutes drive away to see the first rays of the sun strike Uluru, then to walk round parts of Uluru itself.  Climbing it was discontinued in 2019 as a mark of cultural respect to the local Anangu indigenous people.

The outline of Uluru becoming apparent

The sun's first rays falling on Uluru

Sun striking the Olgas (Kata Tjuta), west of Uluru

Despite there being reasonable numbers of people present to witness sunrise, there wasn't a lot of talking.  Perhaps people were simply absorbing one of the world's great spectacles unfolding before them.

The next part of the day was dedicated to walking round selected parts of the base of Uluru and Kata Tjuta. Our guide Kym was absolutely in his element, explaining history from an indigenous perspective with humility and an engaging manner - exceptionally well done.  The sheer scale when close up was overwhelming.  Here are a selection of photos from Uluru.

A visual explanation of the various features

The woma python woman of indigenous mythology to the right

Indigenous rock art

Arched cave - Uluru

Looking outward from cave

Amazing formations

The discontinued climbing route

It's a purely personal choice but I marginally preferred the Olgas as somewhere to explore, simply because of the sheer variety of shapes, but that's not denigrating Uluru in any shape or form.

Part of the Olgas - the Walpa Gorge area

Looking the part!

Arty shot - the Olgas

That evening saw our last meal together - a table under the stars with Uluru in the background.  To use an understatement, just a wee bit special.

Dinner under the stars at dusk with Uluru top left

Nightfall and great company

The next morning saw everyone saying goodbye departing in different directions to various parts of Australia. Trip highlights..... what can I say?  The star was the Australian Outback.  Everything you'd hoped for and more besides.  Many Australians I've spoken to over the years have travelled extensively internationally, yet have never travelled far inland or even to Western Australia north of Perth.  Why is that?  Special mention of APT and the exceptional quality of their team.  Delivering great outcomes but keeping everything low key at the same time.  Driver/Guide Kym was the best of the best - unflappable, always on top of everything and displayed great humour.  Kym was also great with his explanations of indigenous culture in the various areas. Finally, the people on tour with us.  Great fun and we all got on so well - expecting a few welcome visitors to NZ now!

Our journey to Australia ended in Melbourne to catch up with our daughter and her husband for a few days, exploring the Mornington Peninsula and surrounds - the perfect way to wind down an outstanding holiday.

En route to Melbourne

 

Adventure to the Red Centre, part 5

William Creek to Coober Pedy

Flying in to William Creek from Birdsville was another of those uniquely Australian experiences.  Taxiing off the airstrip to the disembarkation point required crossing the Oodnadatta Track, one of the significant roads in the area. I guess the pilot was used to watching out for utes (pickup trucks) and massive road trains!

William Creek is a quintessentially Aussie Outback place.  According to a board inside the hotel, current population is 12.  However, being located along the Oodnadatta Track, it's an important centre for the surrounding district.  The nearby Anna Creek Station is the largest cattle station in the world at nearly 24,000 sq km.  Mind-blowing statistics!  The Woomera Prohibited Area is also nearby, known for weapons testing and in particular, above-ground nuclear tests in the 1950's and '60's.

Distance board in the hotel

Arrivals and departure lounge, William Creek

William Creek Hotel

Pop-top caravanning, Outback style

Local humour

William Creek golf course, par 3 1st tee

A long way from help if you need it

Mrs J dodging rush hour traffic

Following a very pleasant lunch, it was time to head to Coober Pedy, the world's premier supplier of opals. The Oodnadatta Track was barren, as was the bordering Anna Creek Station.  Cattle were few and far between.

The first signs of approaching Coober Pedy were hard to misinterpret,with dirt spoil heaps everywhere from the mining.  It's understood that there are around 2 million individual mine shafts and it certainly pays to keep your eyes open.  The town sign features a blower truck, essential for helping with the extraction of mine tailings.

Mine tailings as far as the eye can see

The town icon

A working opal claim

The town has a population of around 1400 and with harsh desert summer temperatures, many live underground within their claims.  This ensures temperatures in the mid-20's C all year round. The hotel we stayed at had been cut inside a rock face although our room was fully underground.

Some of the underground hotel passageways

Our hotel bedroom - very dark with the lights out!

A tour of an old mine was organised which actually showed that miners could live in relative comfort.

Comfortable living at pleasant temperatures

Horizontal access tunnels

Opal seams fluorescing under UV light

Seeing some of the polished opals mounted and on display was a timely reminder that Jennie had very much wanted an opal bracelet so a hunt was on to find the perfect gift.  Here it is:

For the woman who (almost) has everything

What is it about Aussies and extreme golf courses?  There is an 18 hole course in the harshest of environments which has reciprocal rights with the Royal and Ancient at St Andrews!  There's something so very right about that arrangement.

1st tee, Coober Pedy golf course

Diesel-coated green (brown?) to keep the dust down

A view of some of the fairways

Apparently, night golf using glow balls and sticks is quite popular.  I'll bet it is, especially with those summer temperatures.

You might think that such a place is pretty God-forsaken but the opposite is true with a number of churches having been tunnelled into the rock to provide the perfect environment for reflection.  We visited both the Catholic and Serbian churches and both were works of art.  Here are some photos of the Serbian Church.

Tunnelled into the side of a hill, it was beautifully-appointed and the glass panels with interior lighting  made it look perfectly natural.

Utterly spectacular

The Sturt Desert Pea

Leaving for Uluru the next morning (yes, at dawn!), we still had time to visit another wilderness area close to Coober Pedy, the Kanku Breakaways Conservation area which was again, quite different from other nearby spots.  In one direction on the Moon Plain, there was nothing growing for as far as the eye could see yet there is apparently abundant life.  The Earth's curvature was quite apparent.

Everyone's idea of the Outback

In another direction, it looked like the world's supply of plastic wrap had been dumped on the surface with all the glitter from it.

Hectares of glitter

These are translucent sheets of gypsum and an example can be seen below with our guide Kym holding a sample.

Translucent gypsum sheets

The other well-known item which passes through the area is the 5600 km long Dog Fence, which is under constant maintenance.

The famous Dog Fence

The Breakaways area itself has amazingly varied topography will different minerals.  Here is a selection of photos.

White, red and brown hills

One heck of a colour pallette

A long way from anywhere

Next post:  Uluru and the Olgas