TO TIKITERE ON A TRIO OF BIKES.

Hot Lakes Chronicle, Volume 4, Issue 212, 24 December 1896, Page 3

TO TIKITERE ON A TRIO OF BIKES.

By "Coury Ki>;citej,a." One Sunday, a few weeks ago I Jed my iron steed out of the hotei, where it liad been resting in the sample room in company with some sulphur specimens and an odour like unto the hereafter. I propped the bike against one of the verandah posts and regarded it critically. Several beer commissioners, taking their cue from me, also favored my machine with a friendly inspection. After satisfying their curiosity, one of the beer experts asked me where I thought I was going to, I informed him that just at that particular moment my mind inclined in the direction of Tikitere. ' To Tikitere on a bike !' chorused the professors of beerology. ' Yes,' I said, ' that's the ghastly truth,' ' But yer don't know the road, do yer? 5 queried one of the patrons <>f the pub. •' No,' I answered calmly, but firmly, ' and the road don't know me.' This brief reply gave them their quietus, and, mounting tire bike. I rode off in quest of His Hivirence, Father Doolnu, and found him in the Pukeroa Hall. He was busy packing up his wardrobe. I invited him cordially to accompany me sis far as Tikitere on his cycle. Finding that I was in earnest tie hauled out his chronometer and murmured something about being back in time for dinner. I told him that we could work the dinner business, and, on this understanding lie agreed to accompany mo. 'But,' said His Rivirence, ' we can't go without Jerry;' so Jerry was worked into the swindle accordingly. Wo then meandered into the hotel previously referred to and gave our mouths the benefit of a little hydropathic treatment preparatory to starting. All went well till we got .over the first bridge on the Maketu road. Here we discovered that the road had been newlv formed with loose sand spread over to the depth of about fix inches. Jerry, in the interests of humanity got off and walked, and His Rivirence and myself also in the same interests got off and walked. We walked for about a mile and again mounted, although the road was not much to boast about. Jerry got suddenly possessed with tlie idea that ho was a colonial Zimmerman and went ahead at a rapid puce. He was stopped, however, in his headlong career by water. It isn't the sort of beverage that Jerry usually stops for, but there was too much of it to ignore, so we nil dismounted and took off our shoes and socks and waded through it, carrying the bikes on our shoulders. After this we found the road very patchy, averaging about a quirter of a mile of decent road to two miles of bad. We passed several groups of intelligent Maories on the road who were greatly impressed by the form Jerry was showing, but when they saw His Rivirence and myself battling along, about a mile behind, they grew quite interested. We confided to them that it was a road race, and we rather gave Jerry away by informing them that we had givfii him three miles start. This tur e<l the betting in our favor and lowered their estimation of Jerry's prowess considerably. This little fiction kept our end up, although, I admit, it was playing a bit low down on Jerry. Still, in the interests of athletics, you're apt to overstep the mark at times. Suddenly we came on a decent bit of road with live fences on either side, and a considerable amount of cultivation. His Riverence informed me that we were at the Ngae. The Ngae proved to be a veritable oasis in the desert, after plugging through several miles of sand and scrub. Here we had the pleasure of meeting one of His Hivirence's flock, a gentleman engaged in the exhilarating and delicate pursuit of road-mak-ing. His Kivirence asked him how far we were from Tikitere ? " Oli ! A matter of five or eight miles or so,' he replied, 'But what makes yer rivirence want to go there, sure tl ere's no thin' to see but bilin' mud and an 'ell of a schmellof soolphur?' His Rivirence'advised him not to speak so disparagingly of his future place of residence. We then proceeded. After traversing about two miles of good road we came to another creek at the bottom of a gully, a friendly log acted as a bridge so we carried our bikes over without much trouble. Another mile further on brought us in view of the steam rising from Tikitere. This sight caused us to put on a spurt and in a few minutes more we arrived at our destination. We found the proprietor, Mr Paddy McCrory at home. He lives in a state of rustic simplicity, notwithstanding his closo proximity to the most gruesome spectaclo in the whole Hot Lake region. After a brief conversation with Paddy and his interesting family we commenced our inspeotion of Tikitere, (To be continued.J