Ride Melbourne to Perth

Last of the Summer Ride

Spirit of Tasmania, arriving Devonport,
to take us back to the big island.

We chose a Saturday night ferry from Tasmania, so we would have quiet Sunday morning traffic for our early departure from Melbourne. As it turned out it was the Sunday of the Avalon Air Show and so we were bumper to bumper for the first fifty kilometres along the M1, towards The Great Ocean Road.

Traffic wasn't too bad for a Sunday,
most we had enjoyed the Great Ocean Road for a while

The Great Ocean Road is a thoroughly enjoyable ride, with enough opportunities to move slow vehicles out of the way and keep you cruising along nicely. We stopped for a refreshing fruit juice in Lorne and set up camp in Apollo Bay.

Port Campbell

The ride up and over Lavers Hill was fun in the dry conditions. Six years ago we had picked our way up and over this pass in the pouring rain, with a bunch of locals hot on our heels, and had not enjoyed the ride at all. We called Portland home on the second night and were delighted to make the acquaintance of a resident Koala. He sat high in his gum tree and his poop only missed Steve's bike by inches.

A light drizzle set in as we rode into Port Nelson and stayed with us nearly all the way to Tailem Bend, so we kept riding, until the cheap Tuesday all-you-can-eat buffet at The Old Mill Hotel in Hahndorf tempted us to pause for the night.

Camped at Spear Creek Station

We took the opportunity to enjoy the ride through the Barossa and Clare Valleys on our way to Spear Creek Station in the Flinders Ranges. The station is three kilometres along a good gravel road and well worth your while for a comfortable outback experience and a stunning sunset across the desert plains.

Are we nearly there?
Kimba, South Australia.

Steve and I usually ride Port Augusta to Perth in four days stopping at Ceduna (470km), Eucla (500km) and Norseman (710km) then home (770km). We choose to stop in these places as they are our preferred places to pitch a tent; although there are many other opportunities to stop along the way. Many years ago an around the world rider shared a thought of wisdom and he said "if you want to keep it enjoyable do less miles." I often remind myself of this, especially when I'm nearing the end of a long day in the saddle. You could certainly relax more if you made the crossing in five days instead of four.

Love the truck stops, Caiguna

This Nullarbor crossing was comfortable enough, by late morning we were riding in 30+ degrees but the wind direction and strength were kind to us and the conditions were as good as you could expect for early March. The views are so vast and wide for so many a mile that The Eyre Highway really is one of Australia's great outback rides; it is a privilege to have had the opportunity to ride this highway once more.

We were making good time on the last day's ride from Norseman to Perth and were enjoying an early lunch in Southern Cross by ten thirty. Then we hit a succession of road works and the next 110km took nearly two hours to complete; stopped in the blazing sun is unpleasant and tiring and reminds you that it's not over until the fat lady sings.

Fortunately the Great Eastern Highway was pretty quiet until we were on the outskirts of Perth, then wham, we were full on mixing it with workers on their way home. Within moments our summer's ride disappeared in the rear view mirror as if it had never happened and our attention turned to commissioning the house when we arrived home after 15 weeks of travelling on our trusty Beemers.

Sunset at Spear Creek Station, Flinders Range

Ride Tasmania

What's not to love about riding in Tasmania?

Arriving in Tasmania was a chance to hit the reset button and enjoy the crests and curves of a new land. An hour after riding away from Spirit of Tasmania we were in Sheffield, the billy was on and we were toping up on cups of tea before taking a myriad of back roads on our way to Longford. Without a GPS we found ourselves making U turns in the most awkward of places, still the roads were quiet and we were able to do so. The amount of road kill was alarming. Apparently the dwindling numbers of Tasmanian Devils can be blamed for this as they used to keep the roads clean.

Back road after leaving Mole Creek,
Great Western Tiers in the distance.

Steve keeps a road atlas, and the new roads we ride on each road trip are marked in a different colour. This summer's ride colour is purple, and we often say we are in search of “purple” roads, roads we haven’t ridden before. Our first day in Tassie took us through the little towns of Mole Creek and Bracknell to our camp in Longford; all purple roads.

First night in Tassie, camped beside the Macquarie River, Longford.

Convict built bridge (1836), Ross.
Smoke from the Western Tiers fires.

On day two we could have saved ourselves a lot of bother, left the tent in Longford and enjoyed a very nice circuit ride. We don't always see the wood through the trees and we upped camp on a warm Tasmanian day. We were headed for Bicheno and enjoyed a side trip along the B42 to Rossarden. I almost thought I could hear the sound of banjos but the tinkling was soon carried away by the wind. We enjoyed lunch in St Marys while the temperature climbed even higher and we were delighted when we arrived on the coast and the temperature dropped ten degrees. This sudden drop in temperature seemed to flip our brains into neutral and instead of setting up camp in Bicheno, as planned, we decided to ride on to Ross. We took the Lake Leake Road inland and within minutes we were riding in 35 degrees again.

Port Arthur convict settlement.

Steve found more purple roads for us to ride on our way to Port Arthur and a day around the convict ruins is always educational, even if you have been there before. In Hobart we took residence in an 1890's whalers cottage for the Australian Wooden Boat Festival and enjoyed the spoils of inner city living for a week.

Australian Wooden Boat Festival - sail pass.

The AWBF is a full on celebration of Tasmania’s rich wooden boat heritage and Steve says, “anywhere that declares Regatta Day a public holiday must be alright.”

Having a quick pint in the Shipwrights Arms at the
Australian Wooden Boat Festival 

Just some of the view from Mount Wellington.

If you are on a motorcycle, check the weather before heading up Mt Wellington. We found a light sprinkling of snow, 30 knot winds and 1.5 degrees when we arrived at the top. We were inappropriately dressed and the lookout shelter was the only thing that saved us from ourselves. Note to self, don't do that again.

Looking across Great Oyster Bay to
Freycinet National Park from Swansea.

Our week of comparative luxury in Old Hobart Town was soon behind us and we trundled over to Freycinet National Park for some walking and some good views. The number of folks at the Wineglass Bay lookout was beyond anything Steve and I could enjoy. Apparently some of Tasmania’s best kept secrets have turned up on a “must see” website and it seems to be working.

Bay of Fires, The Garden

We stopped for a while at The Gulch, in Bicheno, to take in this remarkable anchorage, and then we were on our way to St Marys, along St Marys Pass, to the Chinese restaurant we had found two weeks before. It felt like coming home as we tucked into a delicious plate of Satay Chicken and a pot of steaming Chinese tea. St Helens became home for a couple of days and I was pleased to find Binalong Bay again, busy with divers harvesting sea urchins, the roe sold overseas to China.

Purple roads.

A trip to Launceston became a necessity to replace my failed self inflating mattress. Then we rode south to the little town of Bothwell. Fifty kilometres into the ride, high up on The Great Western Tiers, we were stopped on the side of the road kitting up with wet weather gear and winter gloves; it was 7.5 degrees.

Queenstown is central to everywhere,
Which way next?

The musings of another traveller overinflated our expectations of Bothwell and despite the weather closing in we decided to ride on to Lake St Clair. The misty rain closed in as we rode through Tarraleah to Derwent Bridge. “It's going to be muddy down at the lake” said Steve. We deliberated for some time while we watched the rain spitting in the puddles and we made the decision to ride on to Queenstown, 86km away. On we went, navigating the twisty mountain passes with caution. The delightful views were hidden in the mist, I didn't dare to peep as the next bend was only meters away. It was still drizzling when we arrived in Queenstown and when the caravan park manager informed us that Queenstown’s annual rainfall is 3000mm we decided to take a cabin; that was a good decision.

Mt Murchison

While other campers soldiered on and took an umbrella on a trip to the toilet, we nested in our little cabin for a couple of days. We still had one week left to ride the Apple Isle when the weather cleared and we made the most of it, basing ourselves in Rosebery, and later, Stanley. We cruised circuit routes in glorious sunshine and clean crisp air. On one occasion we found ourselves back in Queenstown for Tassies national dish – the scallop pie. The Tarkine Drive was thoroughly enjoyable but be aware, the speed limit was down to 50km for a good chunk of it and this greatly affected ride times.

 Trowutta Arch, Tarkine Drive

And so we ended our Tasmania sojourn, riding for the love of riding, until it was time to go home.

Having fun in Stanley - #visitstanleytas