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When the rain is steady, the cyclist’s mind turns inward. The kilometres are mind games, punctuated with sudden thoughts – look outward. Live in the now. Look at that fern. That bird. The crashing sea shrouded in grey. The west coast is wet.

I wanted to get to the start of the Heaphy Trail. The weather forecast is constant rain for the coming days, so waiting it out wasn’t an option. With no reason to dawdle and check out the sights on the way, I ventured out into the rain.

A picnic lunch in the camp kitchen at Mokihinui and then a climb and drop in the rain was the order of the day.

The rain eased for the last hour enough for me to put in my earbuds and listen to the US election. Trump it is.

Tomorrow the Heaphy Trail.