CHAPTER 11
Being the only child in a home with paths and a long driveway it was natural that Reece had spent a lot of time on his tricycle with trainer wheels and then graduating into riding without those outriggers and then into 'a real bicycle!' as he called in when getting his first two-wheeler. For his fourteenth birthday Reece received a racing cycle; he was ecstatic.
"Now you keep off the roads, just ride on the footpaths as you have been doing with your other bike," Courtney ordered.
"But mum, this is a road racing cycle with special tyres. They're probably puncture on rough ground."
"Well I don't know," replied Courtney. "What is your opinion Matt?"
Although reading a borrowed copy of the 'Rugby Almanac' Matt had been half-listening to the mother-son discussion. "Ride on the beach Reece; it's almost two miles of straight sand to Jackson's Point and return."
"But dad," protested the youngster. "My new bike, the salt will turn it to rust."
"Wash it down thoroughly each time you come back home," Matt said, peering over the top of his book. "It will be hard on the tyres and the spokes will probably rust where they go into the rims. Come to me when you think you'll need new tyres or replacement wheels."
"Thanks dad. Goodbye mum," called the boy. For the next two hours he cycled the beach. When he returned, Matt supervised the cycle washing process and told his son that the resistance of soft sand why cycling would increased the strength in Reece's legs and help build stamina.
Patricia and Courtney watched them. "That's the most attentive I've seen Matt with Reece in a very long time."
Courtney replied she'd been thinking the same thing.
When Reece had put his cycle away in the garage after towelling it dry, Matt called him over to where he'd been drawing on a piece of paper on the kitchen sink.
"Today you've been just messing about, riding quite fast but still really only going on a bike ride," said Matt. "This is what I want you to do. See this plan of the beach? It's only rough I know, but you can see where I have drawn in landmarks, these long bits? I want you to ride them at a fast, steady clip so that you finish each one of them just puffing a little. Then I want you to accelerate into each of these much shorter distances at a full sprint, then drop back to the steady clip again, and keep repeating that for the one mile, turn and come home repeating the process. Over time you'll do it faster and faster. Try to set a lower time each week. Tomorrow I'll buy you one of those stop watches to place around your neck like runners use."
Reece looked pleased. "Can I go out and try this now dad?"
"No it's almost dinner time," interrupted Courtney.
"Go for it son. If she doesn't save your tea I'll take you into town for fish and chips."
Reece raced away on his first run that was designed to gradually build up his stamina and speed. Matt thought that's what ought to happen, not knowing the first thing about cycling. But in the old days successive ruby coaches had drilled him and the other forwards in that fashion, over much shorter distances though.
Matt timed Reece's first return run over the 2-mile distance. In at the end of two months Reece's time trial was a full two minutes faster.
In his second year at high school Reece was riding in the A-team as one of the reserve riders. At the end of six months he was being selected to ride in inter-school events, then at a provincial level and in his third year he was riding in the South Island championships.
He was runner-up in the secondary school national cycling 10-nuke championships in his final year at school.
When Reece first went to high school he travelled by bus, eliminating one of Sophia's principal jobs of driving him too and from school. This had been anticipated so it was she who told Courtney that she wanted to finish up after Reece's last day at primary school.
"Oh we'll be so sorry to lose you," cried Courtney, hugging her.
"Go on, you'll soon have a cleaner in here who'll make your home look spotless."
"Maybe so but we'll never find anyone with your wit and infectious happiness that filled our house whenever you were it in," Patricia said.
"Oh don't say such a lovely thing. You'll make me cry." Sophia burst into tears and the other two women also began to cry.
Minutes later they were laughing again as normal.
Sophia handed both women envelopes. They were invitations to Sophia and Art's wedding later that month in Sydney.
"Oh Matt will be glad to learn about this," said Courtney.
"I'm sorry Courtney he already knows. Art had to tell him so he could book the aircraft seats and hotel rooms."
"Yes, I suppose that had to be done as it will be close to Christmas," said Courtney. "It's just as well, really, as I would not enjoyed having to tell him that he's losing Art."
* * * Not long after returning from the wedding in Sydney, Matt received a call from one of his pals from rugby days who sold farms for a real estate agent. Jeff asked Matt to lunch to meet clients with an interesting proposition. They agreed to meet next day.
Jeff at 6ft 5in and weighing 220 lbs including beer belly, greeted Matt warmly. They had played rugby together for years. Jeff then introduced Philip and Kristin Burton from South Australia, a couple in their early fifties, viticulturists. At the mention of the word Matt believed the partners he needed had arrived.
The four of them inspected the river flats Matt owned and Philip practically yawned when Matt took them up to look at the hay paddock until his wife, who'd originally come from Austria, scuffed her foot in the ground to expose gravel and she practically wheezed and gasped, "Oh my."
Matt looked at her in admiration and said, "You know more than you let on?"
"Yes I do have a degree in soil science."
Matt went to his vehicle and pulled out the old reports on the soil tests that included thirteen years of weather data for the 17-acre block handed them to Kristin. She flicked through them and said, "Tonight we must have dinner, yes? Please bring your wives to our hotel."
That night a deal was made. A legal agreement would be drawn up creating an entity to be known as Miranda Golden Hills Viticulture Ltd, to come into effect as soon as Matt had the river flats and the 17-acre hayfield surveyed off and ready to be legally vested into the new company along with a contemporaneous agreement that an access road be formed and sealed up to the hayfield and water rights secured. The land would be valued and cost of road works added and Matt's other two partners would invest a similar amount into development of grape vines. Once that input reached the value of land the company would then raise capital to continue development.
When Jeff and Matt went out to relieve themselves of processed beer, Jeff punched Matt on the shoulder and said, "Mate, this will be your most productive investment venture by far. It will take many years before Marlborough is really taken seriously as a wine-growing region but it will happen. Mate let me know when you are ready to sell shares to raise capital because Sue and I and probably our parents will want to buy in."
"Nice to have a mate who can see through the pessimism that blinds so many people," Matt said. "Thanks for bringing these South Australians to me. Kristin told me they intend leasing their winery and grape fields and coming to live here to start afresh."
* * *
