Mine was during the 2004 GNZBR, on the second to last day from Hari Hari to Hokitika. It was torrential rain and freezing. My hubby took off ahead while I towed the trailer for the first 20km. I didn't get breakfast as packing up in the rain and getting a three year old organised took priority. By the time I got to the 20km mark I was starving. He was freezing so before I could say boo, he had unhitched the trailer from my bike, hitched it to his and took off (with the food).
I tried to catch him but was too hungry. Eventually I managed to rein him in and made him stop. We finally made it to Hokitika, freezing, wet through, wind blown and starving. Even Em in the trailer was wet, despite stuffing plastic bags around all the possible gaps.
We had luckily booked a motel as I had been warned in Frans Joseph about the weather ahead. However, the motel owner took one look at my bedraggled fiqure and turned me away because apparently I was rude.
I wasn't I was just desperate to get warm. Luckily his wife saw the situation for what it was and let us in. We all had hot showers and spent the next four hours waiting for the trucks to release our clothes. We were so much luckier than those poor cyclists who had to spend the night in the racecourse hall or in the stables. But it has been a good story.