Up the East Coast

Richmond Bridge

Wednesday, 7^th March

Our week was up and it was time to move on again. Despite the weather being against us we had done most of the things we wanted to do. Perhaps I was denied a walk along Lauderdale beach but we hadn't done too badly. To me the magical views of Hobart from Mt Wellington belies the atmosphere on the ground. I thought this thirty years ago and nothing had changed my mind.

The Gulch, Bicheno

We packed up our tent and were on our way by 9am, Bicheno our next port of call. It was a little early to sample a scallop pie when we arrived at the bakery in Richmond, but the plain, chunky steak variety, no problem! It was an easy ride, the road quite open and fast on Tasmanian standards. Unfortunately the following day there was an accident just outside Bicheno involving two motorcycles. Both visitors too.

At $16 a night the campsite at Bicheno was one of the best and cheapest so far. We had the tent set up in record time and wandered into town for a look at the anchorage. There was a heavy easterly swell rolling in and the fishing boats were chomping at the bit. A Bad looking anchorage always makes Steve and I swallow hard, we can't help it.

 

Thursday, 8^th March

The exciting but exhausting process of visiting old friends had left us feeling tired and weary. We had originally planned to walk to the Wineglass Bay lookout in the Freycinet National Park. Apparently its a three hour return amble up and down some 600 steps. The poor weather forecast was the only excuse we needed not to go! We cleaned our bikes in the morning and in the afternoon went for an easy ride to Coles Bay. It was too cold to sit outside and enjoy our home-made coffee so we relaxed in the cosy Coles Bay Cafe instead. Horses for courses! The views were splendid. There were a few yachts in the bay, pitching about in the freshening westerly breeze. We just smiled, pleased we were travelling by motorcycle! Apparently Coles Bay is the first town in Tasmania to adopt a 'no plastic' policy - or so they said!

 

Derby General Store

Friday, 9^th March

Our last weekend in Tassie just happened to fall on a long weekend. Call it what you like but "bad planning" comes immediately to mind. With the incredible pressure on camping facilities in the summer school holidays and long weekends, we had to take up residence in the next caravan park for three nights - the remainder of our stay. This meant the caravan park had to be close enough to Devonport so we could reach the ferry on Monday, even if the weather turned against us. We picked Beauty Point, 47km north of Launceston. This left us a very long ride if we wanted to take the scenic route from Bicheno. There seemed no other route worth taking so it was "one oil barrel at a time," and the first oil barrel happened to be a pancake at the Mount Elephant Pancakes Of Tasmania cafe!

We twisted and turned up the Elephant Pass looking out for the pancake parlour around every corner until there it was - the most unforgiving driveway we had ever seen. Very steep and covered in loose gravel with ruts where the water had run off. Some motorcycles were dangerously parked on the road. Steve took his bike down and then came back for mine. Getting out was no problem.

After we had eaten our fill it would have been nice if the road had straightened out for a few kilometres. Bad luck kiddo - prepare yourself for the descent of the newly resurfaced St Mary's Pass. This kept us focussed and burping for a while!

Lookout at The Sideling

We rode on and on, admiring the scenery and stopping for a pee every now and then. The towns of St Helens and Scottsdale were quickly out of view - there was no time to stop on this ride.

The descent of The Sideling, one of the stages of the Targa Tasmania Rally, tested our riding skills once more and we were both pleased to see Launceston come into view soon after. You don't realise what a sleepy little hollow Tasmania really is until you ride into the second biggest city on the Friday afternoon of a long weekend!

The final leg to Beauty Point seemed to take forever even though the road had gentle curves and was quite fast. It had been another good day in the saddle, however we did feel our age when we pitched our tent that night.

 

Beauty Point

Saturday, 10^th March

We were exhausted from the day before. An unpleasant encounter when the kids next door started throwing stones added to our lethargy. Their dad was most upset with the terms of phrase Steve used. Later the girls were sent over to apologise, leaving it all forgiven but not forgotten! So we rested, until one of our chairs gave up the ghost. We had no option but to make a trip to Beaconsfield for a new one. Beaconsfield is a very sleepy little town, we bought the last chair they had! They may have a gold mine but a seven day a week internet cafe - no way!

In the afternoon we trundled down to Green Point for an ice-cream. We met a guy on a Harley Davidson visiting from Melbourne. He said he comes over most years for a burn around the island. We would too if it wasn't so far away.

 

Sunday, 11^th March

Feeling well rested and recuperated we went riding, despite the overcast conditions and the forecast of rain. The roads are so lovely and quiet you really have to experience Tasmania to believe it. We crossed the Tamar River at the first opportunity and took the back roads through Lilydale to Scottsdale and then on to Bridport for a picnic lunch. The day brightened up and the riding was great. It does however remain a mystery how ride 62 made in into The Bears book. It seemed a very straight and boring run to us. After doing so many great roads, the bar has been raised and all rides have a lot to measure up to!

 

Yacht careened at Port Sorell

Monday, 12^th March

Steve's big toe had an argument with one of our large tent pegs and guess what? - Steve lost! The tow was twice its normal size within minutes. We thought it was broken. We also thought Steve might not be able to get his riding boots on. We got the ice onto it immediately and began mumbling things about "not being able to ride" and "at least we had five good weeks." Steve sat quietly while I fussed around making sure the toe bath was no warmer than 1oC! After an hour in and out of iced water Steve was ready to hobble about for a while. We packed up the tent, loaded the trailer and then like a real trooper on went the boots. Those creatures from Mars can certainly withstand certain types of pain more easily than their cousins on Venus! Luckily it was Steve's right foot. If it had been the left, the one than changes gears, the trip would have been over.

On ramp to Spirit of Tasmania

We took the back roads to Port Sorell before arriving in Devonport early afternoon. We found a picnic area where Steve could rest and get his toe back into some ice. It was turning black now. What a mess. The public holiday meant everywhere was closed. We did manage to kill an hour checking the emails - there certainly is a lot of hanging around to do when catching a night-time ferry.

Finally it was time to take our place in the queue. All the bikes, maybe 40 of them, were together and the atmosphere was great. Most of the bikers were Victorians, dressed in full leathers and riding sports bikes. They had come over for the long weekend. Before long we were on the ferry, together this time. The bikes were secured and we were dining in the galley on Spirit of Tasmania. Our Tassie sojourn over for now.