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NZ Roadtrip Part 2

WORDS: SIMON MAKKER
PHOTOS: HOLTZY AND SIMON MAKKER

DAY 5:
HASTINGS-PALMERSTON NORTH
“This is it,” announces Freerider photographer Holtzy from the passenger seat. “This is the 180ft tabletop.”
What the? We’ve just driven a seriously overheating car 15 minutes along farm tracks through Hawke’s Bay’s rolling hills to get to this point, and for the life of me, I can’t see this mythical jump. The only indication Holtzy is even remotely on the money is the sight of Kiwi FMXer Tim Watson gearing up nearby.
“They rail that natural bowl there,” explains the woolly-haired West Coaster with a sweep of his hand, “then hit the upramp there, fly through the air,” he keeps sweeping his arm around and I follow his hand, “and they land way down there.”
Is he trying to pull my leg? I know 180ft was a huge jump, but this looks impossible, especially with no lip on the upramp. And after next-to-no sleep thanks to Holtzy’s best bulldozer impersonations and Levi Sherwood’s midnight ramblings in the backpackers last night, I’m in no mood for games.
“What?” Holtzy asks, almost defensively. “You’ve seen the posters in Freerider. This is the spot.”
“OK,” I shrug and start unloading my camera gear. “I just don’t see how they can clear that though.”
Even though charcoal-coloured clouds choked the sky, there isn’t a breath of wind on the 1600-acre Glenorchy Station, making perfect conditions for attempting the intimidating jump.
As well as Watson, a couple of local riders, Kieran Scheele and George Goodwin (the son of the station’s former owners, the Goodwin family), and one of Levi’s buddies, Palmerston North’s Jesse Donnelly, have turned up to sample the limitless freeriding in the Hawke’s Bay hill country.
Watson starts getting the feel for the imposing tabletop, and within 10 minutes of practice jumps and scoping out the landing he carves the wide, natural bowl on his CR250, hits the upramp, soars for what seems an eternity, then stomps the landing 180ft later.
“FAARRKK that’s huge!” breathes Freerider DVD man Jade Foggo from beside me.
But simply clearing the gap isn’t the aim, and within a couple of efforts Timmy then starts throwing big Harts over the gap, stretching his 6ft 4in frame above his machine and getting perfect extension.
Meanwhile, Donnelly has geared up and is quickly turning into a jump-finding demon. After successfully ripping up the 180-footer time and again, he hunts out a scary 160ft natural double in the hills behind where the cars are parked that no-one has ever seen before, as well as numerous step-downs and hill jumps. He’s not busting any tricks except for the odd whip, but his racing skills are helping him shine in this freeriding paradise.
Inspired by the lads out there killing it, teenager Levi Sherwood, who is trying to recover from a sprained ankle and neck after a big crash just a week before the roadtrip started, gets geared up.
“Tim’s put the hard word on me, eh,” he says with a grin. “I guess I should make the most of this while I’m here.”
The 250SX-F struggles to clear the big booter and for some reason it’s throwing the front end high after take-off, but even still, young Levi manages a couple of Harts and Seatgrab Indies for the small gathering of people who have turned up to watch.
And then near-disaster strikes: while following Jesse Donnelly around the paddock and scoping out his creative lines, Tim Watson comes up short on the 160ft natural double. The impact sends him off the bike and cart-wheeling through the air, landing a good 20m past the downramp. Miraculously, he’s standing with his hands on his knees by the time we arrive on the scene and apart from being a bit bruised and breathless, is feeling OK. His bike has somehow fared even better, and doesn’t sport any damage at all. Still, the bingle is enough to see Timmy watch the remainder of the session from the back of his van with his wife, Sarah.
“Having a wife and baby definitely makes you think twice about riding and how hard you push yourself,” says Tim philosophically. “It’s not just about me any more, y’know? I have people depending on me, so the last thing I want to do is really hurt myself.”
With the riders finally starting to tire and our memory cards bulging, it’s time to draw the Glenorchy Station session to a close. The epic 180-footer and surrounding hills has lived up to the hype today, and now it’s time to head to Levi Sherwood’s compound in Palmerston North, two hours away.

If you were going to choose a place in New Zealand to practise FMX, it wouldn’t be Palmy. It’s obviously a bloody windy place: from the Sherwoods’ place on the outskirts of the North Island’s fourth-biggest city you can see a legion of huge wind turbines pumping out megawatts of power on the nearby Ruahine Ranges.
On this balmy summer evening, though, the wind had dropped to a whisper as the horizon began pulling relentlessly at the sun.
As Levi began hitting his home compound (consisting of two downramps and three steel ramps set at various distances) it soon became obvious to us that the likeable grommet had been saving himself for this shoot. It was a cool feeling to think we were the first magazine to ever take photos at this place, and Levi was going all out to make sure we got perfect shots. The trick execution this guy has is beyond belief: it’s like he doesn’t have any vertebrae and can bend himself inside out. His Ruler Indies – as featured on the cover of the last issue of Freerider MX – are quite possibly the biggest in the world, and he doesn’t hesitate to throw a few Backflip Nacs, Heelclickers and No-Handers into the mix.
By this stage the sun had well and truly set and it was time to head back to the house to wind down. It had been a long day and the beers and barbecue were beckoning…

DAY 6:
PALMERSTON NORTH
We awake to a day of scattered cloud and a fairly gusty wind, but decide to hit a nearby farm owned by a moto-mad family, the Dransfields. The farm is draped along the foothills of the Ruahines and hides a motocross and supercross track, but it’s the 155ft natural hit that Tim Watson has found that we’re interested in. The run-up is from the corner of the paddock near a pine forest, up a steepish hill, off a lip Watson has added, over a fence and land on the downhill side of the rolling ridge.
As well as Timmy and Jesse Donnelly, young Haki Waller – the 12-year-old grom who seriously impressed us on the first leg of the roadtrip in Tauranga and Rotorua – turns up with his little KX85 strapped to the trailer, and one of Levi’s larrikin mates, Dylan Foster also turns up for a ride.
Initially, we gather young Haki has come along to watch the action unfold, but after observing Timmy and Jesse hitting the impressive hit and throwing a few tricks and whips – Timmy even steps up and punches out a couple of Double Grabs – Haki gears up and gets out there. After several practice jumps and speed checks, the plucky youngster holds the little 85cc wide open from near the fence at the far end of the paddock and launches his little KX85 the entire distance. The small crowd whoops and cheers as he rides back with his fists in the air and a smile so big it’s practically bending his helmet.
“That’s awesome!” he beams. “I’m going to hit it again!”
The boys continue sessioning the hit, and Jesse is again impressing us with his big whips that he makes look effortless. Levi is itching to get out there and throw down, but is saving himself for the cover shoot of issue #49 tomorrow morning.
Throughout the Dransfields shoot, the photographers struggle with the flat light thanks to an overcast sky, but as soon as we pack up, the sun comes out in full force. Hate it when that happens!

DAY 7
PALMERSTON NORTH-WELLINGTON
We’re up before the sparrows can even think of rustling their feathers and make little tearing noises for two reasons: to beat the wind that’s forecasted to wreak havoc with the day’s plans, and to use the optimum golden morning light for the #49 cover shoot with Levi. His Ruler Indies two days ago have got us frothing, and we’ve hired a cherry-picker for the shoot.
The incentive of potentially gracing the cover of Freerider MX has the lad really pushing the limits of his already agile body: he’s practically kicking himself in the back of his head with his Ruler Indies as he soars past Holtzy’s aerial vantage point.
“Mate, that is bullshit,” Holtzy says, shaking his head and playing the shots back on his Canon 20D. “I don’t know how he can twist his body like that without pulling his hips and arms of their sockets. The kid’s a freak.”
An hour into the shoot, the forecasted wind starts to pick up and grey clouds start to roll in.
“You get the shot?” I ask Holtzy anxiously.
“Mate, I’ve got plenty!” he grins.
“Awesome. Because I think the rest of the day is gonna be a write-off.”
As if in confirmation, a hefty gust of wind shunts in from the west. There’ll be no more riding today, but that’s OK – we’ve got a four-hour car trip down to Tim Watson’s Wellington farm ahead of us.
The four-hour trip turns into a six-hour mission riddled with wrong turns: Timmy’s station is at the end of a maze of tight, twisting roads through Wellington’s hilly suburbs and scrubby countryside and it’s 11pm by the time Tim greets us in his 4WD and guides us the final 10 minutes of road that descends sharply down a narrow gravel track that hugs cliff-faces until we arrive on the shores of the Cook Strait – the body of water that separates the North and South Islands. The hut we’re staying at for a couple of days is just 200m away, and even though it’s pitch dark, we can tell this place is gonna be pretty special.

DAY 8
WELLINGTON
An excited Tim Watson barrels into the hut at 7.30am, already geared up and ready to ride.
“Get your bums up to the compound, guys. The sun’s out, there’s no wind and conditions are perfect!”
We quickly roll out of bed, but stop stunned in front of the hut window. Our place of residence sits on a small, grassy bank barely 50m from the sea. The sun is still behind the huge bush-covered hills behind us, but in the distance we can see its rays hitting the South Island and turning the hills golden. Ferries laden with cargo and passengers chugged around the point from the Wellington port, their bows pointed at the South Island town of Picton. This place is incredible.
Timmy’s compound is equally impressive. We’d missed it in the darkness last night, but the daylight reveals a little slice of freestyle heaven nestled in a wide, gorse-choked valley. Wild goats and the odd fallow deer can be spotted grazing in the bush, and they’re not fussed about the riders getting used to the new park. Watson’s compound consists of one steel ramp and downramp, a huge dirt tabletop that only he has the courage to clear, a small double, a step-up and a couple of fun hip jumps.
Levi and Tim don’t take long to warm to the set-up: Tim’s all style on the dirt hits and is obviously comfortable throwing the bike around in the air. He has the big tabletop dialled in next to no time and begins playing around on all the different options in the park. Levi, meanwhile, quickly gets used to Tim’s ramp (even though it’s an old-school design and doesn’t give the pop of the new-age ramps) and begins showing off his trick repertoire, including Rulers, huge Indies and whips. It’s obvious he’s enjoying himself.
“This compound is so much fun,” he beams while the boys take a breather. “It’s cool having only one steel ramp – that’s all you really need anyway – and a heap of dirt jumps. This one of the funnest places I’ve ever ridden.”
Soon afterward, Tim, Levi and Dylan crank out a few cool trains, while Jade drives and films alongside them on the adjacent road. From where I’m sitting behind my camera, it looks flippin’ sweet!
“You guys want to check out a natural wall ride I’ve found?” asks the easy-going Tim. “It’s near a radar dome on top of a ridge not far from here.”
Does a sheep shit in a paddock?
Soon we’re negotiating a sketchy farm track in the 4WD that has the Aussie contingency white-knuckled and fair crapping their pants, and with good reason: the ground beside the “road” plummets away and only flattens out 100ft below in the rocky valley bottom.
Fortunately the wall-ride isn’t too far away, and the guys are already playing around on it when we arrive. The 4m-high wall is the result of a farm track cut into the side of a hill, and it’s overgrown with moss and ferns, which provides optimum grip for the knobbies. After a few runs to get a feel for it, the boys start pushing how high and far they can rail the wall before gravity pulls them back to the farm track. The moss wall holds up well, gives the riders plenty of traction and helps us get some surreal shots.
Even though the wall is shaded by the afternoon sun, the angles are still mint and the view over the Wellington Harbour and city basking in a perfect bluebird summer’s day makes it hard to keep focused on the riders.
But that’s not all of the crazy features that grace Tim’s incredible station: on our way back to our seaside retreat, Tim signals for us to stop on the edge of the gravel track.
“Check out this shingle slide,” Tim says. “We drop from here down to the beach.”
“What the f#@k?!?” says Holtzy in disbelief.
We get out of the 4WD and tentatively approach the edge, craning our necks to see the bottom. The huge shingle slide drops about 150m from the edge of the road to the rocky beach below at about a 50-degree angle. If that isn’t enough, the massive slip ends on a narrow 4WD track before hitting the ocean. A rider would have to angle the rear of his bike for the final 5-10m to hit the bottom track at right angles if they wanted to safely ride away without getting wet.
“Stuff that, bro,” Levi says, shaking his head. “There’s no way I’m doing that!”
“I’ll give it a shot if I can follow you,” Dylan pipes up, looking at Tim.
“No worries, then,” replies Tim, strapping on his helmet.
In an incredible act of swallowing your fear and trusting both your bike skills and gravity, the pair kick their bikes over and gently roll on to the slip, their bums cemented to their rear fenders. With shingle rolling, moving and clacking around them in their own personal avalanches, Dylan and Tim are relegated to “passenger” status as the bikes gather momentum and slide down the flanks of the mountain. As if they’d done it hundreds of times, both riders step the rears of their machines out for the final few metres, land perfectly on the 4WD track near the sea and trundle to the hut. The manoeuvre is nothing short of spectacular, but as with anything involving hills and cameras, the footage simply doesn’t do it justice.
The day is rapidly drawing to a close and the sun is starting to set as we arrive back at the hut. It’s been a long, eventful day, and a perfect way to cap off what’s been a great trip. It’s time to sit back on the deck, sink a few celebratory beers and other beverages, and watch the sun set over the South Island. Life is nothing if not good.

DAY 9
WELLINGTON-TE PUKE
Today we face a huge roadtrip, from the very bottom of the North Island back up to my parents’ place in Morrinsville, just an hour-and-a-half south of Auckland, but there’s also one more stop – Mary Perkins’ compound in Te Puke. It’s a nine-hour mission, and our arrival at 7.30pm is cutting it pretty fine in the daylight department.
Unfortunately, Mary’s compound is surrounded by trees, so it doesn’t take long for the sunlight to disappear altogether, but Mary, her boyfriend, Joel, and her riding buddy, Josh Thompson, still put on a cool little session for us.
The riders pull out their best moves in the 45-minute window we have before we’re overtaken by total darkness, and we’re impressed. Seeing a chick do FMX still brings a smile to my face whenever I see it, and it’s great to see Mary working her Seatgrabs up to almost Hart Attack level. Josh is also a big surprise – he’s only been riding for a little over three years but already has a big bag of tricks, including a ripper Kiss of Death and super-solid Lookback Harts that he seems to hold for minutes. After learning FMX on a two-stroke, Thompson is still getting used to his new RM-Z250 and reckons he’s “lost” a couple or tricks (Dead Body, Whip, etc), but that’ll come with time.
Without any wind around, the dust gradually builds up in the sheltered, picturesque compound that’s bordered by trees and a main railway line, but we run out of light before too long anyway.
And suddenly our tour has come to an end. With handshakes all round, a few celebratory drinks at a nearby pub and some more of the crap Chinese takeaway that has almost become our staple diet, we reflect on that has been a full-on, but exceptional trip to the Land Of The Long White Cloud. We’ve filmed and shot 14 of New Zealand’s best riders, hit four farms that could all pass for freeriding Nirvana, three freestyle compounds and three prime motocross tracks. About 4000km have passed under our wheels, we’ve had plenty of laughs, stayed at some awesome places and have generally had the time of our lives. Bring on next year!

THANKS TO:
The new Glenorchy station owners in Hastings and the Goodwin family for organising for us to head out to the huge tabletop, Levi Sherwood’s  parents, the Dransfields, and Tim Watson for letting us crash at your incredible seaside cabin. Big props!

 

 

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