The only bad thing about Opononi is that we didn't stay there longer. All night the sand dunes beckoned. But we knew we had to get going fairly early the next day to get a start on the big hills we'd been hearing about ahead. The hills were in a forest of old Kauri trees--massive trees with trunks the size of small buildings. Some are thousands of years old.

We hit our first hill right after Opononi. Within 1k we were looking back *down* at our campsite. Since Eric's altimeter broke in the rains of Costa Rica, we didn't know how high we were. We were probably only 500 feet above sea level. But that's a hell of a way to wake up. Immediately we descended back to the beach, and then back up.

From there, the road changed from beachside scenery to forest. The forest seemed odd to us because it looked like a rainforest--it even had subtropical palms--but it didn't seem wet. And it wasn't espeically hot out either. It was a little like looking at the jungles of Costa Rica with the chill of Alaska in the air. Of course climbing those hills took the edge off right quick.

In the forest, we stopped to see Tane Mahuta, the oldest Kauri tree in New Zealand (how many trees have names?). We later read that it is rotting, so it is starting to get hollow inside. But it sure looked stout and hardy. The bark gets kind of leathery looking when the trees get that old.

While we were there we met some folks who were driving in a caravan of campervans (mobile homes) down the coast. We had seen these huge campervans all over the Northland--it turns out we were travelling the same route. I thought there were only four or five campervans travelling together. But we met one couple who said there were a total of 24 couples driving! They were from New England and they were paying $1,000 a week for the privilege of trying to beat each other to the campgrounds they had arranged for ahead of time. I could understand maybe travelling with one or two others in a caravan--but 24? Anyway, once they had a chance to meet us we noticed that they gave us a little more leeway on the road.

The great thing about the uphill in the Kauri forest was the ensuing downhill. We struggled up for only a few clicks--and then got to coast for nine! That was sweet.

[Eric: You think of all the weight on your bike when you climb those long hills. I'd been carrying the adventure horn around New Zealand and hadn't played it in a week. But I justified it by knowing that eventuallly I would be really glad to have and if I didn't have it now, when I wasn't using it, I wouldn't have it later when I really wanted it. Soon I would be justified.]

Unfortunately, there weren't any tearooms (that's like a cafe in the U.S., or a soda in Costa Rica) along the way. So we were pretty hungry by about 5 p.m., when we rolled into the little town of Kaihu. We made a beeline for the only business, a pub. Inside farmers were slamming them down and having a great old time. We ordered beers and burgers and took a seat in a quieter room next door, where there was room to sit down. (Oddly, when we ordered, the bartendress called someone to tell them to cook and deliver our order; the cooking wasn't done on site).

While we were sitting there, one of the cattle farmers--a tall, lean, darkish looking guy wearing a baseball cap--wandered thorugh our dining area to go to the bathroom. He saw us and paused to talk. He showed us where he lived on our map: Kai-Iwi Lakes.

We had heard about the lakes earlier, and we thought we might try to go there. In fact, that's what we were debating when the farmer walked up. Was it worth it to go 11k down a one-way road just to see some lakes? Especially since it was too cold to go swimming and we'd probably leave early the next day anyway?

The farmer, whose name is Paul Stanaway, won us over easily. He had a pickup truck and said he could ride us and our bikes out to his farm, where we could camp. And it turns out that his prior career was building guitars (he's a luthier) and repairing instruments for professional musicians--including the Canadian Brass, Eric's heros. Paul said he could fix Eric's horn! Eric's horn has had major dents in it since 1991, when it fell over while strapped to his bike on his last bike tour. We never dreamed we'd meet a cattle farmer who could fix Eric's horn. Obviously we had to go.

Before we did, we joined Paul at his table, and talked with some of his friends. Eric got out his horn and played Scotland the Brave. The whole pub cheered.

After we all had one more brew, Paul threw our bikes in the rear and drove us out to his homestead. He and his wife Margo and their son and daughter moved to New Zealand five years ago from Vancouver, B.C. Paul, a native Kiwi, hated BC's cold winters. As he drove up to his place, he kept telling us about how it was like paradise. He told us people travel the whole world to find a place like that. And he was right.

Paul and Margo have 500 acres on the West Coast, from near the lakes--big tourist attractions in the summer, sort of like Lake Tahoe but a lot smaller--to the beach. The hills were a brilliant green, just like the all the hills we've seen in New Zealand. He once had 800 sheep, but had cut back to only 30, because wool prices are so low. Instead he raises cattle. (Ironically, his daughter, an 18-year-old aspiring opera singer who is going to university in Vancouver, is a vegetarian).

Paul showed us into his work studio, which has a beautiful wood floor. There he plays classical guitar, thinks about resuming work on a guitar he is building (he has built others), and reads. He also keeps a few beers handy in the fridge. And he is working on making a table from Kauri wood. (The Kauri trees are quite rare and can't be cut down anymore, but many have been recovered from swamps where they have been buried for thousands of years; these swamp kauri trees, and the wood of kauri trees that die natural deaths, supply a lot of wood for use in making furniture and artwork here).

We had a blast talking with Paul in his studio. Margo and their 14-year-old son Todd got home late that night (Todd had been playing his saxaphone in a concert). Paul called them on an intercom that he has rigged up between the studio and the house. Todd answered and asked if Paul had done anything interesting that day. "Yes," Paul said. "What?" Todd asked. "We've got some visitors. You better tell your mom to come up and meet them," Paul said. Todd asked who we were. "I think they're Americans," Paul said.

Margo came up to the studio later and we had fun talking and looking up at the stars. It turns out she teaches school a day or two a week at a mostly Maori primary school. She invited us to come and speek at the weekly assembly the next day. We were totally jazzed.

That night, we slept in the wool shed. It was a bit chilly so we pitched our tent inside, near Todd's punching bag.

The next day, Margo rode us into Dargaville, about 35k south of the lakes, to get some photos developed. It was a totally happening town, although the population is just about 5k.

Then we went to school. There were about 70 kids there, ages five to 12, sitting on the floor of a classroom. The younger kids put on a play about Johnny Appleseed. It was so weird to hear these kids talking about Ohio and Massachussetts. They were very sweet and impressive.

The school is rural and has some of the same kinds of problems found in inner-city schools. So a lot of the kids had a lot to cope with. We were just there to entertain them.

I was a little nervous, so Eric went first. He played Scotland the Brave on his fixed horn (Paul had fixed the bell while we were in Dargaville). The kids just exploded with applause. They were totally into it. Eric was a natural. After that he played Yesterday (Beatles) and made some funny sounds with the mouthpiece.

Then we were supposed to start talking about our trip. But after Eric's playing, the kids wanted something jazzier than talk. I tried to get them excited about biking. They seemed only mildly interested. So we took out the Newton.

As a whole, New Zealanders are pretty up on technology. Most people on the sidewalks in Auckland have cellphones sticking out of their ears. And nearly every store and roadside stand accepts ATM card payments (The system is called EFTPOS, and is supposedly linked to PLUS, but our ATM cards, which are also linked to PLUS, don't work with EFTPOS). But I didn't really expect a roomful of rural schoolkids, many of them poor, to be familiar with the Internet.

Well they were. I asked them if they'd heard of it and they screamed affirmative. Their principal, Lindy, later told me that the school is about to start an Internet trial. Then Eric showed the Newton around and the kids went wild. They jumped up al around him, just totally wild to look at it. It's not even Nintendo. Eric showed them the Mahjongg game we have loaded on it. A bunch of the kids were familiar with the game.

The school trip was a total blast. We spent the rest of the day hanging out with the Stanaways. Margo and I talked for hours about New Zealand and world travelling (she and Paul went on their world tour more than 20 years ago). Eric and Paul hung out in Paul's studio, and then took a ride in Paul's all-terrain vehicle to the beach.

That night Margo and Paul served us beef tongue for dinner, which was great!

That night, when Todd got back from a field trip, we showed him our little Newton, and used the family's Internet computer to check email. Then we gathered them all together and gave them a little 'Net tour--they just got online recently--so they'd know where to look for things of interest. We found a luthier newsgroup for Paul on Usenet. Then Eric and Todd played video games. Margo kept yelling for Todd to go to sleep, but Eric kept being a bad influence.

The next day, Nov. 1, we didn't want to leave. Margo very sweetly asked us what the rush was. She said that she and Paul had previously put up other world wanderers for several days, or sometimes even weeks (Paul brings travellers home often; before we arrived, he had brought home a weaver from Wales who was walking through New Zealand). We both would have loved to stay, but we had to get going, because we want to ride the length of NZ before going to Australia, and we are hoping to get to Australia by mid-December. I hate having schedules.

But also, we didn't want to out-stay our welcome. It's better to leave when your hosts still want you to stay. Back in Costa Rica, our host Ronald was great to us, but I think he could have stood a day or two less of our company.

So very reluctantly, after lazing around and enjoying a great breakfast and lunch with Margo and Paul, we rode a short 38k to Dargaville, where we camped.

next: the Kauri museum, and returning to Auckland.

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