GET YOUR MOTOR RUNNIN’
Head out on the highway
Lookin’ for adventure
And whatever comes our way
Yeah, darlin’, go make it happen
Take the world in a love embrace
Fire all of your guns at once and
Explode into space
I like smoke and lightnin’
Heavy metal thunder
Racin’ with the wind
And the feelin’ that I’m under
Yeah, darlin’, go make it happen
Take the world in a love embrace
Fire all of your guns at once and
Explode into space
Like a true nature’s child
We were born, born to be wild
We can climb so high
I never wanna die
Born to be wild
Born to be wild
(‘Born to be Wild’ – by Steppenwolf)
I’ve mentioned more than once that I have a thing for motorbikes. If you were lucky enough to be invited into my shed, you’d see that I wasn’t joking. In that magnificent mancave, you’d see six bikes – owned by myself or one of my sons. One being rebuilt, one meticulously restored to better-than-new (by my youngest son), and others waiting for the first round of Vinduro (see Wild NZ, issue 4, 2022). There are two strokes and four, and all are dirt bikes …
Except one.
Under a blanket, a black, chrome, and carbon v-twin road bike stands in the corner. A limited edition, 100-year anniversary model built by the oldest motorcycle manufacturer in the world: Moto Guzzi. And like many Italian creations, for example Ferrari and Monica Bellucci, it’s a thing of beauty!

While I’ve ridden dirt bikes my whole life, my foray onto the tarmac has only been in the last decade. I mean, it’s not because I didn’t want to ride a road bike; it was more the words “they’re a death trap” ringing in my ears uttered by well-meaning adults that delayed the inevitable. So what pushed me over the edge (I hear you ask) and caused me to ignore the well-meaning comments from my loved ones? Well, it was two words …
WILD HOGS.
This 2007 movie starring Tim Allen, John Travolta and Martin Lawrence had a profound impact on me … well, as profound as a slap-stick comedy could have. Maybe it was because I was only a few years away from 40 and having an existential midlife crisis, but the idea of a bunch of mates escaping their mundane lives for a road trip on their Harleys really spoke to me. So, while watching the movie, I decided right then and there that I would get myself a Harley and go on a road trip.
I already knew where I wanted to go. The previous year, the animated movie Cars had come out … so riding Route 66 on a Harley was added to my bucket list.
Who would’ve thought a comedy and a kid’s movie could have such an impact?
It wasn’t long after Wild Hogs that I got my motorcycle license. I remember the instructor telling me off because I rode like a dirt biker: “You must have all four fingers on the clutch lever!” he would bark as I weaved in and out of road cones. Thankfully, I passed without any issues.
My first venture into the road-bike world started on a Suzuki dual-sport, which could be ridden on and off-road. That gave me some amazing adventures – especially in the South Island, which is an offroad paradise! But here in the Coromandel, with its renowned twisty, mostly sealed roads (creating the motorcycle-famous Coromandel Loop), riding a road-registered off-road bike on the road simply isn’t much fun.
So, a proper road bike was calling – and as per my Wild Hog fantasy, an American cruiser … like the venerable Harley Davidson or Indian. One of the reasons I love to ride bikes is the full sensory experience you get – and the sound of those thumping v-twins (named because of the shape of the two-cylinder engine) just speaks to me; there’s a stirring of some primordial wild gene when I feel that motor running …
Which is probably why I don’t like EVs.
Anyway, you may be wondering why I didn’t mention that a Harley Davidson was standing in the corner under a blanket in my shed. Well, a famous proverb says: A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps. I didn’t know it then, but fate/ providence/God (call it what you wish) had different plans. I was about to stumble upon an Italian beauty I didn’t even know existed.
Without going into details, the sad story of a man hooked up with the wrong woman was about to pay dividends … for me. Being confronted with the ultimatum, “It’s me or the bike!” has different outcomes for different people, I guess. Luckily for this writer, the combination of the former owner of my bike being a recent English immigrant who’d fallen for a bike-hating woman was hugely in my favour. Because once I swung my leg over the black leather seat, settled in behind the chromed tank, pressed the start button, and heard … and felt … the transverse v-twin rumble into life, I knew I needed to have it.
For now, at least, the American cruiser would have to wait.
So what is it about riding motorcycles that has so many Kiwis (there are nearly 200,000 registered bikes in NZ) enjoying this ‘dangerous’ mode of transport? And is there really a ‘wild’ gene some of us are born with?
A SENSORY SMORGASBORD
“In a car, you’re always in a compartment, and because you’re used to it, you don’t realise that through that car window, everything you see is just more TV. You’re a passive observer, and it’s all moving by you boringly in a frame. On a cycle, the frame is gone. You’re completely in contact with it all. You’re in the scene, not just watching it anymore, and the sense of presence is overwhelming” – Robert Pirsig
There is no doubt that riding bikes engages a lot more of your senses than sitting inside a car. And out of the five traditional senses, touch – or more precisely – feel, is probably what gets the biggest workout. You’ve got the rumble of the motor between your legs, the exhaust heat, the buffeting wind, the vibration of the road through the handlebars … and, if you’re unlucky, the taste of a bug in your mouth.
THE JOURNEY
“It’s not the destination; it’s the ride”
For most rides – whether to a café in Coromandel with my brother-in-law or to my accountant in Tauranga – the journey is almost always better than the destination (especially when visiting my accountant!). I enjoy driving, but riding – especially on an interesting road on a bluebird day – is hard to beat.
IT’S COMMUNAL
“No road is too long if you have good company”
My sister rides, my brothers-in-law, and some of my best mates … It’s not very often you see a loan rider. If my bro Harley, on his Harley (true story!), messages me for an afternoon cruise up the coast to the Coroglen Tavern for a burger and beer, I’m a starter. It’s a great way to catch up with family and friends, to meet new people … and to lust over each other’s bikes!


CREATIVE OUTLET
“Riding a bike is like an art, something you do because you feel something inside” – Valentino Rossi
And speaking of lusting over each other’s bikes, I don’t know too many riders who don’t take immense pride in their two-wheeled steeds. Most of us like to tinker, modify, and farkle our machines to give them our personal touch. The ‘café racer’ scene is a great example of this – and you don’t need lots of money to create something special!
BORN TO BE WILD
“I don’t ride a motorcycle to add days to my life. I ride to add life to my days”
In a sanitised world, where everything is “safety first!”, it’s nice … no, necessary … to take a risk or two every now and then. It keeps us young, our senses sharp, and our lives more enjoyable. We’re designed for adventure … we come alive with adventure. And with the increasingly online world we’re living in, engaging in activities that connect us to the natural world is more important now than ever – to be in the scene, not just watching it!
So, whatever you do, don’t deny your wild gene … take a Ride Forever course, wear a good helmet, and don’t be an idiot.
And, if you’re ever riding the Coromandel Loop and see a guy on a chrome-and-carbon Moto Guzzi, stop and say, “G’day!”.
MIKE STILL PLANS ON FULFILLING HIS DREAM OF RIDING ROUTE 66 ON A HARLEY. HE’S JUST PUTTING A POSSE TOGETHER …