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About Me


My father sensed my vulnerability and shamelessly capitalized on my weakness by offering me a ride every Sunday in exchange for farm chores.


Sunday... the day I was supposed to attend church with my mother and younger siblings....

Sorry mum. The bike shed became my church, and Soichiro Honda became my God.

My obsession with motorcycles grew through my teenage years. I spent more time hanging out at the local motorcycle shop than I did at home. Eventually I would score a job there.

The beginnings of an addiction

I was born in the mid 1950's, the son of a lower North Island, New Zealand farmer, and I first became aware of motorcycles at the age of 9.


My father purchased a Honda CT90, and he used it to round up the cows for milking. My first ride was life changing, as if a small nuclear explosion had taken place in my brain. From that moment I was hooked, and prepared to do almost anything for my motorcycle fix.

Honda CT90.png

Honda's CT90, the bike that changed my life, and lots of others no doubt


50 years on and it’s still a red Honda, even if it is on the other side of the world!  On the Dempster Highway, headed to the Inuit Village of Tuktoyuktuk on the Arctic Ocean.

From dirt bike rider to motorcycle adventurer

After owning a series of clapped-out motocross and trail bikes, I began venturing further afield, exploring some of the more remote regions of New Zealand.


This soon led to motorcycle adventures in Australia, the US, India, U.K. and Europe. I’ve met some fascinating people through motorcycling, many becoming lifelong friends.

Still travelling...

Retirement has opened up new doors for me. I’m no longer constricted by a career. I’m fortunate to have the support of my beautiful wife Kathy, who came to motorcycling later in life than I did.


After a few brief lessons on how to ride a Postie bike, I declared her competent enough for a lap around Australia on her own bike, and she bravely piloted a Honda SL 230 around Oz for 3 months.

Trouble on the Oodnandatta Track 2.jpg



These days she is happier riding as pillion or with her hands in the soil of her beautiful flower garden. Her evenings are spent working on local organisation websites or updating my blog while I’m away. 


At times I jokingly refer to her as ‘my secretary’. It’s not far from the truth. She’s wonderfully adept at all the things I loathe, like airline bookings, visas, languages and websites.

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