RIDING NORTH.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIX, Issue 126, 31 May 1938, Page 5

RIDING NORTH.

ON A PUSH BIKE.

A MUSICAL INTERLUDE. AND A HOT WATER BOTTLE. I (By H.A.8.) No. n. One of the advantages of push-biking is that one can enjoy the scenery at just the right speed; walking is too slow and motoring nearly always too fast. On one's two-wheeled, leg-propelled Pegasus it is the simplest thing in the world to stop and look round—(only too often one has to stop and walk uphill!)—and on the by-roads there are convenient little bridges over the streams where one can put a hand on the parapet and peer down at those jolly little bullhead trout. A fascinating pastime.

The road from Helensville (railway station end) runs for seven or eight miles to Kaukapakapa through a stretch of wild, hilly country that reminds one irresistibly of the Scottish Highlands. The great black hills rear against the skyline like sleeping kings, but it is not Rothesay Bay that they sentinel, but a wooded valley. One could swear there are pixies in those hollows by moonlight. The hill shadows are dim and mysterious even Toy day.

However, all is bright and cheerful alongside the road, and it was to the carolling of birds, not the wild notes of the pibroch, tliat the cyclist listened as he pushed along at a steady four or five miles an hour.. Halting on a little bridge he was astonished to hear the tinkle of a piano. Yes, a piano in the bush. And there, "three-quarters left about," as they say in the cavalry, was a tiny school. The name, Loch Norrie I School, solved the mystery of this highland valley. -Surely some early settler had been struck by the resemblance to his native glen and established the name here, in this new land whose greatest glories are yet to come. It was nearly four o'clock and school was over for the day, but there were

left the mistress and two small girl pupils who were doing the piano tink- , lin£. Mi»s Serle courteously invited the visitor inside, and, "by special request," little Colleen, aged 9, played her "piece," intituled "My Little Ship Goes Sailing." I Then Sue, aged 10, a tall, slim girlie with eyes like a wild doe and the prettiest smile in the world, played a fairy jig. And both played jolly well, too. At that age the fcyclist could just manage "The Bluebells of Scotland" with one finger. Mushroom a la Mode. And to add a picturesque finale to this delightful incident the tourist spotted a large mushroom on the far hillside and Sue climbed under the fence and got it for him. What a thrill those kiddies got when the visitor peeled off the top skin, cut off the earthy stalk and ate the mushroom raw. It tasted better than a hors d'oeuvre at the Ritz. And so to Kaukapakapa where, by the big concrete bridge, he nearly ran over a pheasant and saw two pukeko together just off the roadside. They seemed to know he had rto gun. They may even have sensed that he had long since lost the urge to kill wild creatures: 1914-19 settled that. At Kaukapakapa the traveller received welcome and true hospitality from the innkeeper and his wife. And, for the first time in nearly 40 years he had a hot water bottle in his bed. Yes, a hot water bottle. "By gad, sir, what would they say about this in the old 'ThirstyFirst?' Going to the dogs, sir, by gad!. An old soldier in the prime of fife having a hot water bottle. By gad, sir, he ought to be made to bivouac in the back garden." Well, the traveller enjoyed a dreamless sleep with his gutta-percha bedmate and next day, after a labial farewell from the bulldog, set off for Wellsford. What a ride it was; a solid 10 miles to Glorit, another solid 10 to Tauhoa, where he lunched on sultana biscuits, ' cream crackers and a raw onion, and , conversed with the storekeeper of old days in "Brum," and then a laborious | eight and a half to the end of the day's , ride. Main impressions, glorious views . of the Kaipara harbour, steep hills, . tricky corners, and plenty of bad patches , in the road surface, but, praise be? to > Allah, the "good south wind stilF blew ; behind," and blew the - wanderer in the desired direction. Sixty-nine and a half I miles in three days. Might have been 5 worse.