Tackling the Monkey A winter’s tale in NZ
Word got out that our iconic Brass Monkey winter rally would reach its final 40th run this year. One could call this event the equivalent of the famous German Elephant Rally, but based in the Southern Hemisphere. But despite this, declining attendance numbers, high compliance costs and the original founders not getting any younger saw the organisers calling it quits.
The first rally attracted 350 faithful patrons, with attendance peaking to 5,000 in 1990 and levelling to 1,050 in 2018. I always thought one day to do the Monkey and 2021 would be the one to do it, for its swansong.
I set off from the South Island’s city of Christchurch on Friday, 4th June for the first 300km, heading
South. The sun was shining for about the first 10km, but then a cold and overcast, but dry ride set in. Just days before the journey, the predominantly flat province of Canterbury, flanked by the Southern Alps to the West and the Pacific Ocean to the East endured over several days the worst rainfall in living memory. As an effect, several of the large rivers flowing from the mountains to the sea damaged some of the bridges on the East Coast along SH 1, most notably in the town of Ashburton. It was touch and go for this bridge to be open, but despite a massive traffic backlog it was all on. Riding Prince, my old purple Beemer, along at 100km/h at 4,000 revs touring speed, the Southern Alps showed themselves in their white splendour in the distance as a reminder why the South Island is called the Switzerland of the South Pacific. The coastal town of Timaru was the first stop for a much-needed coffee break, before crossing the Waitaki River into the province of Otago towards Oamaru. The sun was setting and it got decidedly cold by the time I reached the seaside village of Hampden, staying the night in an old caravan at the local holiday park. Continuing the journey South on Saturday led to Palmerston, where a right turn into SH 85 led into remote territory inland.
The Ranfurly petrol station and nearby hotel was a hive of activity, since it was not just a stopping off point for motorcyclists, but simultaneously a thoroughfare for the pre 1930s Irishman Creek vintage car rally. Carrying on, the last 25km to the rally site, 3km from Oturehua (pop. 61) near the Ida Dam was a rather windy affair. The rally site (elevation 495m) was chosen in 1980 by some members of the Otago Motor Cycle Club for its reputation to be close to
Ophir, the coldest place in New Zealand, with temperatures recorded as low as -15 degrees C in winter.
One can easily imagine that staying in a tent in minus degree temperatures can, in fact, freeze the balls off a monkey, but the name actually stems from a naval term of the sailing ship era, where cannon balls were stored in a pyramid, on top of a triangular brass frame known as a monkey. In extremely cold temperatures the brass monkey would contract more than the iron cannon balls stored on it, which caused the cannon balls to roll off.
Upon arrival, volunteers handed over the rally badge to those having actually arrived on their bike. The local community provided a free soup and apples stand near the evening entertainment’s band stage not far from other food, drink and merchandise outlets. The highlight of the evening is usually the lighting of the biggest bonfire at night you’ve ever seen. The rally location in the Maniototo Plains is flanked by the Hawkdun and Ida Mountain range to the North, Raggedy Range to the East and Dunstan mountains to the West. The whole atmosphere on site was one of egalitarian camaraderie, where a record number of 4,102 riders met fellow enthusiasts from all walks of life, from all over the country, one more time. Bikes of all types could be admired, ranging from sports bikes to sidecars and classics, from trikes worth 60 grand right down to a ratty 350 Enfield Bullet. Sidecar rider, BMW spannerman and former Castrol Six Hours race mechanic Michael Dobson travelled on his 1971 Ural M63, an outfit upgraded with R80 forks, R1200C front wheel, K1200 discs and 4 piston calipers, a 450W alternator, digital ignition, heavy duty clutch, a BMW gearbox with low first gear and BMW final drive. His Ural was imported as a solo bike in 1974 and was the first Ural in New Zealand. Michael rode it as a solo to the 2nd and 3rd Brass Monkey and drove it with a chair fitted to the 25th and 40th event. Over the years, Michael replaced the original 30hp engine with a 70hp twin plug BMW R100 engine.
Probably one of the oldest attending veterans was John von Tunzelman. He just wished he had known about the first rally held in 1980, otherwise he may have made his tally of attendances 40 rather than 39 in total. He doubted that at his age of 85, he would have been able to attend many more Monkeys, if it had continued, but found it sad to see it fold. John: “To me the Brass Monkey has so many special memories, having experienced so many different weather conditions, such as snow, which you couldn’t scrape off the ground prior to erecting your tent and to find it still there the next day. Then some lovely sunny days with no wind, but a good frost at night. One time just a few years back a wind storm flattened many tents and the next day the Police closed the road between Omakau and Alexandra following five riders being blown off Tiger Hill. The local Lions Club offered us coffee and a bite to eat at the local Rugby Club while we waited for about four hours for the road to reopen. In the early years I sometimes went up on the Friday and spent two nights on site, rather than just the Saturday night. I rode a variety of bikes to the event, from my Vincent Black Prince to my Black Shadow, the Comet, my Yamaha trail bike and also my Honda ST1100. Once or twice I fitted a side chair on one of the Vincent’s and my wife would come along too”.
I have to confess, that I opted to skip tenting in favour of an Airbnb bed in the town of Clyde, a 50km ride further South. So, after a couple of hours socializing, Prince was mounted again, while there was still sufficient daylight to continue on. A vast landscape, dotted with grazing sheep brings one to Omakau, where the road gets a bit hillier past Chatto Creek, which affords one spectacular alpine vistas, until you turn near Springvale towards the old gold mining town of Clyde. It made sense to take from there the inland route back via SH 8, rather than the previous SH 1 coastal route. Just outside Clyde, a massive dam appears, built in
1992, to hold the waters of the Clutha River.
The subsequent lake, which comes in sight past the Cromwell Gorge near the bridge turnoff to Cromwell, is the 26 km2 Lake Dunstan, named after the mountain range on its right flanks. Barely any winter traffic took me towards the remote outpost of Tarras, where it was time to put on an extra layer of clothes before heading into the misty mountain section towards Lindis Pass (elevation 961m), which has almost carpet lookalike tussock vegetation along its slopes. Descending upon Dunston Downs one reaches the MacKenzie Basin, which extends 100km North to South, and 40km East to West, with the Southern Alps its western edge. Amidst it lies Omarama (pop. 200), which provided a muchneeded warm up stop. The journey continued towards the tourist town of Twizel, a former worker’s village of the Mackenzie hydro scheme. An extensive network of canals links several large lakes in this otherwise barren landscape to produce electricity. Pressing on past Lake Pukaki and Lake Tekapo over Burkes Pass (elevation 709m) meant leaving the Mackenzie Basin towards the town of Fairlie for a stop at the local Bake House for one of its famous savoury pies. The last stop was Geraldine, when it was time to call it quits for the day. Monday morning was the time to finally face the rain for the last 137km back to Christchurch. It was no purple rain for Prince, but proper, solid liquid and after altogether 905km, the Monkey was done.