Bret de Thier

Highway One

State Highway 1 is the country’s central artery. At its northernmost extension, it is a rutted gravel track churned to dust by the wheels of coaches carrying tourists to Cape Reinga. Where it greets the Southern Ocean at Bluff, it is a spray-drenched ribbon of asphalt. For 2026 km in between, it weaves through an extraordinary array of landscapes, from high-altitude desert in the Central Plateau to sun-drenched pasture in Marlborough. In his just-published book, Highway 1, Bret de Thier offers a photographic salute to a legendary road.

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Lyndsay and Joanne Rickerby’s 1936 Ford sedan takes pride of place outside their diner in Amberley. Inside, the walls are covered with hotrod and classic car posters and memrabilia-a real shrine to the road
The colour-coordinated Austin A35 of former Temuka service station owner Laurie Spilliane was his statement of vehicular pride.
The colour-coordinated Austin A35 of former Temuka service station owner Laurie Spilliane was his statement of vehicular pride.
An ancient truck on the roadside at Foxton now advertises the wares it once transported.
At Longridge Estate winery, just south of Whangarei, netting protects ripening grapes from marauding birds-the scarecrow is just for show.
At Longridge Estate winery, just south of Whangarei, netting protects ripening grapes from marauding birds-the scarecrow is just for show.
At many places, Highway 1 and the Main trunk railway line run in tandem. In the Rangitikei, a maintenance crew works on a rail bridge.
At many places, Highway 1 and the Main trunk railway line run in tandem. In the Rangitikei, a maintenance crew works on a rail bridge.
No bridge can span the gap between the North and South Islands, so vehicular ferries make the connection.
Highway 1 across the Waitemata Harboour on the back of the Auckland Harbour Bridge, one of the city's design icons. Another, the Sky Tower, looks puny in this perspective.
Highway 1 across the Waitemata Harboour on the back of the Auckland Harbour Bridge, one of the city’s design icons. Another, the Sky Tower, looks puny in this perspective.
Green-for as far as the eye can see-is the colour of spring on the Canterbury Plains, alleviated by a yellow barn at Waimate.
Green-for as far as the eye can see-is the colour of spring on the Canterbury Plains, alleviated by a yellow barn at Waimate.

I began travelling Highway 1 as a teenager, towing yachts on trailers from my home in Christchurch to regattas all over the country, and to Olympic trials that were mostly held in Auckland.

Later, international travel made me realise how varied the New Zealand landscape is, with Highway 1 connecting indigenous and exotic forest, desert, green hills, parched farms, cities, thriving and decaying rural towns, plains, harbours, wetlands, estuaries, lakes, braided rivers with great bridges, one-way tunnels hewn through rock bluffs, wild coastlines skirting mountain ranges that touch the ocean, multilane interchanges, active volCanic regions, vineyards, barns, water towers, dairies, cafés and pubs.

My decision to photograph the country’s main highway grew out of a love of all this natural diversity, along with a fascination for all the marks and structures people have implanted on it.

Gathering the pictures took about three years. I trav­elled sections of the highway in both directions in different seasons on many separate journeys. The constraint I imposed on myself was that every shot would either include the road or be taken from the road. The only exception was a photograph taken from the deck of the Cook Strait ferry—which in any case can be regarded as an extension of Highway.

As it turned out, about half of the 150-odd photographs included in the book were taken from the driver’s seat—such was the diversity on offer. Every shot was taken as I found it. There was no waiting or “staking out.”

Highway 1 feels like a microcosm of the country, culturally as well as geographically. At times, the traveller seems to have stepped back in time. For example, there are still one or two 1950s-era milkbars left, such as the Detroit Diner out of Oamaru, where you can order a coffee and the girl behind the counter doesn’t ask, “What sort?”

As I hope these pictures show, the spirit of New Zealand is very much in evidence along its idiosyncratic highway.

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