Auckland - Wellsford - Whangarei

There weren't too many passengers on the 8:45 pm - 10:45 pm sailing of the Friday night ferry from Coromandel to Auckland, but as I waited alone for the ferry to arrive the next passenger to arrive was an American girl called "T" who'd been tramping (bushwalking) all over both islands and hitching between tramps. She was about to fly out of AKL and was being dropped off by a local Coromadel couple who'd been hosting her here after they had picked her up hitch hiking on an earlier occasion. T like I had had trouble getting Auckland accommodation, I mentioned that if it were still a problem, I had had to take the only thing left at my hostel, a twin room and that she could use that. She indicated that she'd got the last bed in a dorm of 12 at hers. We discovered quite later that we were both booked at Attic Backpackers. We did our own things on board but on arrival in Auckland wandered up Queen St, she bought something to eat then to the hostel. I had (we both had) an email with late entry codes to get into the place but mine didn't say what to do with the bike, so picking up our named room key packages from near reception I headed off to see if my room had space for the bike. I was much relieved to find that my room had heaps of space for the bike and returned to get it, enthusiastically announcing to T that my room was huge, without thinking of her needing to go to a dorm of 12.
After I'd showered and as I was about to go to bed I saw T still hanging around reception after midnight. Being a Friday night party night I think there was a degree of concern as to which bunk was free.  I made another offer of the spare bed in my room, and held out the spare room key (Being a twin room they'd left me 2 in the envelope). I was pleased when she accepted.  A room of 2 has got to be better than a room of 12, even if the other is occupied by me.
In the morning we talked, ate breakfast and ultimately checked out before I headed off toward the ferries (fairy's in the local lingo).
Every time I visit Auckland or Sydney my brain has trouble separating them.  To be honest I'm probably more used to the CBD in AKL than I am SYD. Having been to Sydney only once on business and Auckland many times. The physical resemblance just adds to this illusion/confusion. Stand at the northern end of the Main Street and you have ferries departing to the North Shore in front of you, a bridge to the north shore on your left and a big pointy tower thing behind you. The location of the Aotea Centre and the Opera House being the only thing they didn't seem to agree on.
One significant difference though is Auckland's lack of Bike and Pedestrian access to that bridge. This means I can't do what I have done in Sydney and take the bike across to the North Shore, in Auckland the cyclists options are to get a ferry or find a car for the bridge.
Having been suggested the Helensville route via SH16 I decided that West Harbour would get me closest to the non-motorway highway where bikes are allowed, so that's where I headed.
By the time you've stuffed around getting away from the CBD and finally hit the road it's getting toward lunch time but you've got a full day of riding in front of you. Unlike the South Island where I could pretty much pick a town then go to its Motor Park, I found that the North Island required careful planning as there aren't many Motor Parks around (unless it's a tourist haunt, then there are hundreds). I didn't know where I was going to stay, an old style pub somewhere along the highway being the most likely I thought. Googling gave a couple of options but too close to Auckland. I thought I'd try for Wellsford and try an land accommodation when I got there. The highway had other ideas though, at 1595 vertical metres of climb for the day it's probably the hilliest day I've done here.

I guess I shouldve framed the sign as well as the view - I think that's a nasty 11%er

Bee Keeping Security camp near Wellsford

To complicate things on a day when I was intending to stay in an old fashioned Pub, I got passed by approx. 200 (seriously 200) motor bikes, mainly Harley's and most with logos on their backs to show where their loyalties lay.  This made me question if there'd be any pubs anywhere in the district with spare rooms.
When the first of the convoy approached I thought initially I had a road train bearing down on me then I realised the noise was deeper, wider, and in every way possible bigger than any road train. I was truly surprised when a motor bike passed, then another, another, another x200.
It was shortly after this and looking at the clock that I decided to look for farm houses close to the road, to see if camping on their property would be possible. Many were set back on long driveways and the first one I tried had only a 14 year old home. The next place I tried I was welcomed, a guy in a caravan by a big shed some 6km or so out of Wellsford. (a honey infrastructure security guard at his post). On private land with the owner on hand I again refrained from cooking dinner with my stove, so after a lunch like dinner and a cup of tea in the caravan I slept.
Hitting the road about 8 the next morning I headed into Wellsford, bought some groceries at the 4 square and used the loo at the petrol station opposite. (I never did find out what facilities the security guard used) then continued on up the road. Now it was SH1 not 16 anymore. The recommendation for the Helensville route suggested 10km of SH1 then a scenic route to the east. I'm still a very slow learner, when another cyclist recommends a route but this time Ive learnt to ignore the advice. These other cyclists are not me. I don't want to ride a whole heap of incredible hills because of a fear of SH1.  I'd rather torture myself less and use a more carefully engineered highway. If a few cars and trucks scared me I would never have survived so many of the countries I visited last trip.
SH1 is the better option but still a very hilly day at 1160m ascending, whe weather is hot and sweaty and I need to do as I did in Thailand many years ago and use 2 pairs of cycling nicks to avoid nappy rash (even with a daily routine of Vaseline)
Nappy rash on a bike is bad at the best of times but today was the first experience of the combination of a malformed seat, (since the leather had torn in the centre of my Brooks  saddle and it had collapsed in the centre - back in Rotorua)
When I eventually arrived in Whangarei I used the visitors centre to book a backpackers in Whangarei for the night and then 2 nights at a pub in the tiny town of Ohaeawai. At Whangarei I would wash some clothes before the weather turned sour, and in Ohaeawai I'd have a rest day and catch up on blogs etc whilst the worst of the weather that was forecast passed by.