Tues Jan 24 (Gisbourne to Tokomaru Bay):

Nancy left the group early this morning, headed to Tauranga to visit friends and continue with her studies

Carole made French Toast, with two home-made compotes (bananas and nectarines) for breakfast. And we could top it off with real maple syrup!

WIth Jenni to supervise, everything was packed, the van loaded and the riders sent on their way shortly after 8 as planned.

The route was simple:  follow Hwy 35 north 91km to Tokomaru Bay with a lunch break at Tolaga Bay.  Hwy 35 has only one lane going in either direction, has a chip-and-tar surface and usually, only an 8-inch shoulder.  The road was made for sporty liitle two-seaters: winding through the countryside on narrow, twisty roads through some of the prettiest hills and farms I've seen.  We only had two-wheelers, though.  The traffic, though light, was 80% logging trucks, empty or full.  For the most part, they were pretty respectful, slowing down and/or passing us with lots of space.  But sometimes, due to a curve or oncoming traffic, they got closer than we liked.

It was sunny but with strong, cool winds.  Fortunately, the winds were generally cross/tail winds and became headwinds only briefly as we rounded sharp curves.  As we discovered at lunch, they were strong enough to knock our bikes over even though
we tried to put them in sheltered spots.

We made pretty good time in the morning, only stopping occassionally for pictures when we came across an exceptionally pretty beach.  The beaches were usually deserted; whether due to weather or just a lack of people, we couldn't tell.  I do know that most of the roads branching off the highway said "No Exit".  And there are no other towns or hamlets in the 50km between Gisbourne and Tolaga Bay.

We arrived at Tolaga Wharf just about noon, a wonderful picnic stop.  After lunch, we strolled out onto Tolaga Wharf, which, at 660m was the longest wharf in the southern hemispere.  However, the railing was crumbling at some spots so there's a Save-the-Wharf society working towards its restoration.  You hardly notice that though because you're surrounded by an turquoise sea back-stopped by a cliff of wam sandstone.

Tolaga Bay itself is tiny, less than 20 structures fronting onto Hwy 35 with a handful of people sitting on porches or steps.  We continued on our way .  There was one hill we felt sure was about 12% grade for at least 0.5 km. The entire hill was about 2.5 km because hills in this part of the country are never just up and down, they switchback several times.   Despite this, we arrived at our day's destination, Brian's Place, before 4pm.  The driveway was a steep uphill, but once at the main lodge, we decided it was worth it: Tokomaru Bay lay below us in all it's glory.

Kira and her boyfriend were leasing the YHA from the original Brian who'd decided to break from running the place a couple of years ago. After welcoming us warmly she gave us a tour of the place.   It's cosy:  the main lodge has a living room and kitchen, 3 small lofts, and a bedroom as well as 2 composting toilets and 2 large, airy shower rooms.  In addition, there are 3 small cabins and 2 tent-sites.  It was a good thing Eric had booked a year ago:  two other cyclists who showed up had to be turned away since Brian's Place was full.  Terri and Jenni elected to stay at the main lodge, Carole chose the 1-bed cabin, and Martel the hilltop tent, so Fran and I shared the 2-bed cabin.  That left Eric and Robert with the 3-bed cabin.  The cabins, (accessed via a narrow, grassy path lined with solar garden lights) and the hilltop tent had amazing views and were very quiet since they were apart from the main lodge. Since we didn't have to draw the blinds, we fell asleep to moonlight and the muted sound of waves, and woke with the sun's first rays.

Brian's Place, main lodge

Main lodge deck, Jenni, Martel and Fran

View from main lodge deck

View from main lodge kitchen

1-bed cabin: Carole

View from Martel's hilltop campsite

Our 2-bed cabin: Fran and Mary

Our cabin

3-bed cabin:  Eric and Robert

Dinner was a mouth-watering spaghetti with a green salad finished off with a home-made apple crumble.   Again, yum!  After dinner, we discussed how we'd describe the place: "1969 hippie" opined Eric, "Perfect" pronounced Martel.  As it turns out, Martel's description turned out to be the best.