NEW ZEALAND ROAD SAFETY

Sharing the road downunder

New Zealand’s extra short passing lanes, usually just one kilometre long, are death traps.

Drivers get plenty of warning that passing lanes are coming up with advance signs at two kilometres, one kilometre, 400 metres and finally a sign to keep left unless passing. But at the death-end of the passing lane there is just one small sign showing the lanes merging in 200 metres, and that sign could easily be obscured from overtaking traffic by the traffic keeping left. (Readers from most countries should note that in New Zealand we drive on the left and have the steering wheel on the right, and there is no plan to come into line with the rest of the world)

Dangerous features of the passing lanes include the fact that the lanes merge after exactly one kilometre regardless of visibility. It could be on a crest of a hill or on a blind  curve and it matters not to the road engineers or the source of the funds. The money runs out after one kilometre, live or die.

For many drivers one kilometre is long enough to start a race, but not long enough to finish the race. The death-end works like a concertina where the music comes from screeching rubber, crushing metal and mortal screams. But in spite of close shaves by the minute, ignorance continues to dictate that speed should have right of way over caution and overtaking is more important than merging.

In her article Sharing the Road, Trena Marshall has touched on two topics that are dear to my heart; road safety and motor caravans.

I fully endorse her comments about freedom campers who don’t play the game with toilet habits. It may be time to outlaw rental motor-homes that are not fully self-contained, or alternately require the renting companies to prominently display the rules and the consequences inside their vehicles.

But, having said that, perhaps it is time also for central and/or local government to start providing more public facilities along tourist routes. Other developed countries don’t have the problems that we do because they appreciate the benefits that tourism spending has on the economy and employment, and cater accordingly for their visitors.

Here is Trena Marshall’s article:

Freedom camping has endured some blight but it comprises two distinct groups.

There are those who hire a van set up as a camper. It will have a bed and cooking facilities but no toilet – and some tourists, considering it is all-natural anyway, head for the bushes.

Then there are those who use public toilets, or drive or tow self-contained vehicles with cassette toilets on board and willingly use dump stations.

The excellent, professional New Zealand Motor Caravan Association (NZMCA) – membership now nearly 54,000 individuals – publishes a monthly magazine as well as a biennial Travel Directory bible which sets out information and GPS co-ordinates about where dump stations are situated, as well as giving detailed maps and listings of camping grounds, private park-over properties, free parking, Department of Conservation camps, the facilities provided at each, and much more. 

It has also been going into bat to educate councils as they contemplate overly restrictive freedom camping bylaws, brought about because of those irresponsible enough not to use toilet facilities – and because the Government’s Freedom Camping Act 2011 did not distinguish between certified self-contained vehicles and non-self-contained.

Some towns are happy to take on the label motor home friendly – a wise move.

The NZMCA rallies can generate a great deal of money to local economies. The 2013 NZMCA National Easter Rally was held at New Plymouth.

The event poured $1.6 million into the region. Latest figures on the Easter rally held in Mosgiel have yet to come in.

Skilled association members can issue self-containment certificates after a thorough check and other bonuses are discounts, for instance on the Bluebridge ferry crossing. I arranged my insurance, signed up to the association, and set out. 

I thought towing a caravan would be like towing the trailer – I am an expert at that after growing up in a farmyard. Abe – my caravan – would follow like the waking wisps of a dream. Lord knows, he was snuggled up close enough behind the car.

Except that it wasn’t easy. For some reason, we struggled up the hills. When I came across another vintage caravan parked in a rest area, of course I pulled in for a chat.

We left together but their little car and quaint Lilliput caravan were soon miles ahead, going at a jaunty pace up the hills while I seemed to get slower and slower.

It wasn’t until I reached Kaikoura, alerted by squealing brakes, that I found the handbrake on the caravan needed adjusting – it was half on.

If driving an automatic, as I was, make sure it’s awash with fresh fluid: oil and transmission. Changing the latter every 40,000km would be advisable the Honda dealership told me.

Back on the road, I tried to be a courteous driver. So intensely did I concentrate on the rear vision mirror as well as the road up front that I nearly came back with one eye higher than the other. As soon as I saw traffic behind, I searched for a place to pull over to the left a bit and let it pass.

The trouble is, the courtesy wasn’t a two-way street, and my pulling over to the left where a wider stretch of tarmac allowed became a repeated exercise in fright as my bay ran out and the cars behind poured on the power, arrows determined to make it through – and too bad about the car and caravan with nowhere to go any more.

Running out of road has a way of wearing on the nerves so after a few hundred kilometres of this I changed from pulling left as soon as possible the second I reached a passing lane.

Then I would let out a breath, slow down, and let them go.

Only passing lanes also run out. That last little bit of gap became the hell-bent goal for yet one more car, and my hair would start to frizz again.

Some encouragement came during a phone call from Paul Cooper, in Pukekohe, who did the restoration work on Abe. He wondered how I was faring on my first long-range trip: “Remember you have as much right to be on the road as anyone else,” he said.

It wasn’t all hard work. At times, I forgot Abe was there. Backing was no problem whatsoever. I could turn that caravan in a tiny space if I had to. The three-point turn stretched a bit but I could do it.

Abe is now resting up in my neighbour’s paddock. I am going to get back into the saddle again soon for a weekend trip.

That beautiful caravan deserves to be under cover though so if any Waikato farmer out there has an empty bay in a barn, please phone (07) 825 8191.

More in Country Wide: http://agrihq.co.nz/country-wide/

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