1998 WIMA National Rally at Camp Rangi Woods in the Pohangina Valley just north of Ashurst in the North Island. At some rallies the games are a tradition, and so it is with the WIMA National Rally. Here we have the blokes performing tug of war.

There's something about Friday's. Especially when you just KNOW that come 5 o'clock, you'll zap home, change, pack, and head south to stunning scenery, good company, and a relaxing weekend.

And so Friday couldn't pass fast enough. And the 6k's home couldn't be travelled quick enough (legally)! And as for the packing, changing, and getting on the road. Yes well. I only forgot a couple of items...

The destination was the Pohangina Valley, the event the annual WIMA rally.

The late equinox winds were still blowing full strength when we left on Friday night. Thankfully SH50 offers a sheltered route, and only the last part of the Takapau Plains had to be tackled. Once thro' the gorge the winds eased, and as we entered the Valley itself, it all but died completely. There are advantages to hiding events away in quiet country backwaters!

The gently winding road was a delight to ride upon, until my headlight died! I waved my partner by to take the lead. But omitted to tell him to look out for the famous (infamous!) flou' pink WIMA signs that pointed the way... Never mind, he only went as far as over the one-way bridge before turning back.

Saturday dawned. I awoke with ample time before a scrummy breakfast of pancakes and freshly made bread. Yummmm. Now I don't normally eat breakfast, but with a menu like this, I can be persuaded!

Next, a visit into Palmy and look for the cause of the blown headlight. Mmm could be fun. It's not my bike and I have no idea how to get into the headlight to isolate the bulb! I needn't have worried, on the way in the indicators gave up the ghost! Ahh. Me thinks a fuse or two is at fault. Mental note to harrase the bike's owner.

With new fuses in place (and spares replaced just in case) it was time for a quick look around, and then back to the rally site. Going thro' Ashurst we waved to many a biker parked on the side of the road. And as we headed up the valley I noticed that most were following - heading for the same destination.

This could be fun. Tez and I had spotted a look-out just before the first WIMA sign. Are they all going to follow? Feeling like the Pied Piper I indicated at the turn-off, luckily Tez had waved them thro' so no-one took an unscheduled detour.

And for those of you who never bothered to take the minor detour - you missed one hell-of-a-view!

Back at camp, it was time for the WIMA AGM. With a good turn out we got things under way. And although it seemed to take forever to get thro', we did cover HEAPS! Especially when it came to the changes to the constitution.

When we were finally let out to play, it was time for the games. Heike had them all under control, complete with strange people do headstands on the back of a moving motorbike...

As the venue is surrounded in bush - a native reserve no less - there were a number bush walks for those so inclined. I took the challenge. And I was not disappointed!

It's not called Totara Grove for nothing, and the number, height, and age of some of these giants of the forest is amazing! One particular walk took you across the road and into Totara park itself, where you were able to stand in one spot and view 15 large Totara's, all within a 5m radius. Awesome!

With the games over it was time to watch some more Sumo Wrestling. Lynnda and lnge took to it with glee - bouncing off each other and landing flat on their bellies! Looking like beached starfish until they were returned to an upright position.

The night crept over. We moved inside to food, music and liquid refreshments. Lynnda and helpers provided the nights food of assorted salads and barbecue. Prizes were dished out for the games, etc., and then it was down to the serious business of telling tales and consuming more of the liquid refreshments.

Faces old and new mingled in the relaxed atmosphere. Old friendships were rekindled, and new ones made. And water bombs were thrown.

Sunday. And guess what's for breakfast - yup, more pancakes and freshly made bread. This is one habit I could easily get used to!

With bags packed it was time for a leisurely ride home. I still don't understand these people who, rise early, frantically pack then leave for home - 2 hours away. What's the rush? The weekends for relaxing, and when you're away from it all in a bush ringed venue like this, that's exactly what I did.

Until next year

Yvonne