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34

COROMANDEL LIFE

SPRING/HOLIDAY 2016

First cyclist across the Hauraki Plain

He made the trip riding a Massey Silver Ribbon bike from the early 1920s,

the name coming from the silver ribbon brand on the front stem.

By Charles W. Malcolm, excerpted from the

Ohinemuri Regional History Journal

, No. 30,

September 1986

I

surely must have been the first to have

crossed the Hauraki Plains from Paeroa to

Pokeno, on a bicycle. I say “surely” because

no one else could have been so foolish as to

have undertaken such a journey before that

time, having any knowledge of the state of

the road.

It was a Saturday, the first of the May school

holidays, in 1922, when I set out with my

pyjamas in a parcel on the handlebars and

two shillings in my pocket, to complete the

40 mile journey before lunch. I accomplished

the feat in a whole day-and-a-half – a total of

30 hours instead of the six I had planned!

My father and I were “batching” in our Hill

Street home as my mother was visiting my

grandparents on their farm in Pokeno Valley.

I proposed to surprise them at lunch on that

Saturday. I did manage to surprise them at

lunch, but 24 hours later than I intended. I set

off shortly after 6 00am. I had always been

keenly interested in the projected Paeroa to

Pokeno Railway and felt myself a pioneer on

the route.

My bicycle was a heavy ungeared model

and bore a small plate with the inscription

“Massey Silver Ribbon” but it would not have

won any prize ribbon for ease of pedalling or

for speed especially against the head winds I

encountered across the exposed plain!

I made deceptively good progress across

the flat red-metalled straight roads of the

Plain, through Netherton, past Kerepehi, via

Ngatea, to Waitakaruru where I broke into my

two shillings to purchase a cold drink. The

road ahead to the hills was straight and flat.

But I little knew what lay ahead - unmetalled

clay. I was forced to dismount for the tyres

of my cycle picked up the clay and bore it

round until it accumulated in the fork bringing

the bicycle to a halt - the wheels just would

not turn and I was compelled to carry the

heavy machine!

Fortunately I noticed narrow tracks in the

teatree on either side of the unfenced road

and here the soil was black. Here I was able

to ide again. In the distance I saw, to my

relief, grey metalled road ahead. But it was

as fatal as a mirage! The metal was unbroken

large chunks of rock known as spalls. My

father who once worked on the roads had a

spalling hammer for breaking up these large

pieces. I could certainly not ride over them

and wondered how even a horse could walk

on them.

Evening was approaching as I reached

Maramarua so exhausted that I dropped

my bicycle and sat down with my back

to a telegraph pole for support. Then the

first motor car I had seen all day was seen

approaching in the direction I was taking.

I stood up and waved. I don’t know why!

They might have picked me up but what

would they have done with the bicycle I did

not think. However, as they passed by they

shouted, “Full up!” I felt the same!

Resuming my weary journey, I met two

horsemen driving their cows towards the

milking shed. I asked, “How far to Pokeno?”

They replied that I could certainly not reach it

before nightfall and most generously offered

me the hospitality of their home for the night.

It was a farm cottage occupied by the two

and their charming sister. They were kindness

itself and after a most welcome meal, I was

eventually bedded down for the night on the

couch in the front room.

Sunday dawned. All three were away at

the milking shed. I left a note of grateful

thanks and, without breakfast, set off on

the remainder of my journey. The Surrey

Flats were flooded but I waded through,

endeavouring to keep to the middle of the

road. I had a rest and a mug of tea in a

road-man’s hut. I surprised my mother and

my grandparents at their lunch. I surprised

myself that I had arrived a day and a half after

setting out. I returned to Paeroa by train, my

bicycle in the guard’s van!

Want more? Read Charles Malcolm’s

essay about the Paeroa to Pokeno rail line:

www.ohinemuri.org.nz/journals/54-journal- 26-november-1982/1055-the-railway-that-

never-was

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