Melbourne F1 Grand Prix

Maybe not a real Ferrari!

Tuesday, 13^th March

So here we were back in Melbourne. By the time we had cleared quarantine and collected our gas bottle it was 8am - peak hour. We taped our directions to the caravan park to our wind shields and off we went. Melbourne drivers although a little impatient are polite and they will let you in when you indicate. It was a very pleasant and entertaining ride even though it did take an hour to cover only 10km. We were staying in Melbourne for the week of festivities surrounding the F1 GP. The caravan park was large and clean with an excellent camp kitchen not far from our camp site. We paid our dues and settled in for the hustle and bustle that is city entertainment.

 

Chinatown Melbourne

Wednesday, 14^th March

It is more difficult than you think to organise a bike service at short notice. Most places spoke of a three week waiting period. Luckily we had posted a message on the Ulysses website forum asking for recommendations. We had one reply - "go to Charlie, he will fix you up without taking an arm and a leg in the process." Charlie is Chinese and works nearly exclusively on Triumphs. Bikers come from far and wide for a little of his magic. When Steve phoned, Charlie said he was very busy but would fit us in if we could leave the bikes for a few days. So that's what we did, we took the bikes to Charlie. When he saw my bike he played with the throttle and said "this no good, your hand goes numb right?" "yes" I said to which he replied "I fix for you no charge!" Then he pulled at the clutch, "no good," then the back brake. "This bike never set up for you, I will fix, when you come back, like new bike." So we left our bikes and Charlie to his own devices. Too scared to say "no" and secretly afraid that we might not like the outcome!

The rest of the day we spent in Melbourne, enjoying a banquet lunch in China Town and taking in the city sites. Melbourne certainly has a lot of character, we loved it.

 

Arriving at Albert Park

Thursday, 15^th March

Our first day at the F1 track. The F1 circus lasts four days. It starts on Thursday and ends on Sunday. Unfortunately it took nearly two hours to get to the track. Partly because we were travelling in peak hour, and partly because the journey comprised of a good walk and then two tram rides. We just settled in for the duration - what else can you do? Once we excepted that it was out of our control it was quite relaxing and interesting to watch inner Melbourne go gently by.

When its only day one of a four day event it's important to pace yourself. It's all about being there and not exhausting yourself in the process. Thursday is a day of support races, the F1 cars do not take to the track. Fortunately our seat was in the shade until noon. After that it was impossible to sit there when the sun came out from behind the clouds, it must have been 45oC in the stand. Despite the heat, we wandered around "side show alley" and the pits of the supporting classes. The atmosphere was fantastic.

Friday, 16^th March

We just made it to the track in time for the first F1 practice! Today we were in the Fangio stand, nicely situated opposite the pit area where there is always something going on. Luckily Melbourne cooled down and presented us with nearly 100% cloud cover. The temperature in the stand was quite comfortable. We spent a very pleasant day in and around our allocated seat. We always take a packed lunch - no "track tucker" for us. We went back to basecamp early enough to enjoy a home cooked meal. Eating out is great but not all the time.

 

Ferrari fanatics

Saturday, 17th March

Saturday is qualifying day. With the absence of the 9 to 5'ers it was a much quicker journey to the track.

Qualifying is a very exciting process of elimination. The F1 cars take to the track in three sessions of fifteen minutes each. After session one only the fastest 15 drivers continue. After session two only the fastest 10 go to session three. This is how the grid positions are decided. The process is probably more exciting than the race itself.

Before qualifying started, in the hope of improving the odds, we both placed a quinella bet for the race result. Steve went for Massa and Fisichella and I went for Alonso and Button. I can tell you now, we both bombed big time!

For dinner we treated ourselves to another banquet in China Town - this is the life!

 

Track side, after the GP

Sunday, 18^th March

Race day. Quite frankly I find the race itself a bit of an anti-climax. When the F1 cars take up their places on the grid the event seems all but over. The race itself seems to pay merely lip service to the three days before. Don't get me wrong, it's still good to be there for the race, but it isn't the reason for going. Fortunately it was another mild day and we sat happily in the Brabham Stand, on the first corner, hoping for our share of the action.

When the race was over we stayed awhile, watching the press conference on the big screen. The punters in the corporate stand behind us seemed oblivious to what was going on - most of them are not real fans. Then we went down onto the track to be with the real fans, all 76,000 of them it seemed! We clicked a few more photos through the fence at the scrutineering yard and then headed home. For dinner an old Italian guy made us a pizza with his bare hands - ever likely it tasted so good. We had done a Melbourne F1 GP. Would we do it again - you bet ya!

 

Those were the day

Monday, 19^th March

Our last day in Melbourne and time to get our bikes back. We spent the morning in town. Still caught up in the hype, Steve bought a Mark Webber cap. It was on sale for $35! I got a Williams denim jacket for only $20 - now that was a bargain. For lunch we had to have one last Souvlaki (kebab). Such delicious flavours and made with real meat - they don't make them like that in the west.

Charlie had our bikes ready and waiting for us. He concluded "when you riding across Nullarbor you will be saying, thank you Charlie, bike like new and no more wanker grip!" He was right, we will never forget Charlie.

Post race party

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.

Hobart

Wednesday, 28^th February

Luckily it remained dry while we packed up and made ready to leave once more. Today we were heading for Hobart only 130km away. After a 30 year absence I was very excited. Five minutes down the road we were riding in light drizzle and the rain stayed with us nearly all the way. We had fog while winding our way down the steep, twisty Tarraleah Valley. It was tough riding but a challenge we both enjoyed. By the time we arrived in Hamilton we felt we had earned our morning tea.

We managed to find room in an adequate caravan park in Berridale, only 8km north of Hobart. In between the showers we set up camp right on the banks of the Derwent River. In the distance to the left was the Cadburys chocolate factory, to the right and next door a sewage works - charming! With people to see and old haunts to revisit, we made ourselves at home in Hobart for a week.

 

Victoria Dock

Thursday, 1^st March

When we woke up it was still drizzling. Mt Wellington, which towers over old Hobart Town was still lost in the cloud. It seemed like a good day to do the Cadburys Chocolate Factory tour, so we booked in and off we went. The best part of the tour was probably access to the "seconds" shop. We stocked up on brunch bars and peppermint flakes to the point where we could eat them two at a time and not notice the pile going down! There we were, growing old disgracefully again, and increasing our girth at the same time!

The rain persisted so in the afternoon we went to the maritime museum, which included a wonderful exhibition on Antarctica. Best of all it was free! It had been a good day. To cap it all off, the weather was kind enough to allow us to stay dry on the short ride back to camp.

 

Friday, 2^nd March

We woke up to a bleak morning, in the afternoon we had commitments to visit friends. In our optimism we decided to make a day of it and take the scenic B68 road which takes you south of Hobart, through Woodbridge and Cygnet and onto Huonville. By 10am we had aborted the ride. The rain had set in, and there was no point in a scenic ride because you couldn't see anything as the cloud was so low.

We had been told that visitors are welcome at the Antarctic Division headquarters in Kingston. We were only a couple of kilometres away so we stopped, mainly to warm up with a cup of coffee. However we were treated to the full-on guided tour with a friend of a friend, and spent four hours learning a little more about Australia's remotest outpost. It rained the whole time we were there. Eventually we had to leave so we could reach our first engagement on time.

The road from Hobart to Huonville would be a great ride on a nice dry day but like any good road, "when they are good they are very very good, but when they are bad they are horrid." The locals still motor along and we were given the hurry-up by an empty logging truck which didn't make it a comfortable ride.

It was great to catch up with old friends. We couldn't stay long as we had another engagement to attend to! A much more traumatic affair visiting our sailing friend Else, whose husband Tod had passed away at the end of 2006. I can tell you we had never been so glad to get back to basecamp. To cap it all off, a truck carrying salmon had spilt fish oil north bound along the southern outlet. This had made the road very slippery in the damp conditions and there had been several major accidents in the last couple of days. Apparently you can't see it, only smell it. So we rode home on tender hooks with sensitive noses - never again!

 

Mount Wellington

Saturday, 3^rd March

Finally Mt Wellington showed its face! There was only one place to go - to the top of the mountain. We took a quick look at the famous Salamanca markets on the way, but they were busy and we aren't good shoppers.

The road to the top is narrow, windy and very busy. However the traffic was well behaved and it turned out to be a good ride, with plenty of chances to stop and take in the views. Its amazing there isn't a cafe at the summit. Every other opportunity to attract the tourist dollar seems to have been exhausted but not that one. Perhaps its a good thing, however we would have enjoyed a cappuccino sitting in a heated cafe - outside it was freezing!

 

Clifton Beach

Sunday, 4^th March

We dedicated Sunday to me. It was my day to visit all my old haunts. In doing so it turned out to be quite a scenic ride too. I stopped and took photo's of my old schools, and the house where I lived as a child. Then we had a picnic lunch at Lauderdale Beach, followed by a stroll along Clifton Beach - I'm sure those waves used to be bigger! In the afternoon Steve was off the hook and enjoying ride number 69 out of The Bears book. I had afternoon tea with my old school friend Margaret. Margaret and family were living in her Ma and Pa's old farm house where I used to sleep-over as a child. What do you say to someone who you have not been in contact with for 30 years? Not much really, however I enjoyed being there, it was a spiritual thing.

 

Port Arthur

Monday, 5^th March

We nearly didn't go to Port Arthur. Maybe it was the weather, maybe just the mood we were in, but we are very glad we did. The grounds and ruins are extensive and we spent five hours wandering around the historic site. We skipped the guided tour, just went under our own steam as there are plaques with snippets of history everywhere. There is just so much to see, some of the buildings are just shells, others have been completely renovated and are decorated in period costume to set the scene. It is wonderful to see that funding is pouring in from somewhere and the preservation of Port Arthur is in good hands.

It is a scenic 93km ride from Hobart to Port Arthur. On the way there we stopped to check out the convict built Denison Canal. On the way home, even though the weather was against us, we stopped for a quick look at the Tasman Arch, the Blow Holes and the Devils Kitchen. Every time we went to get back on the bike it was a major "chamois job" and tempers got a little frayed.

Tessellated Pavement

Despite the rain I insisted we stop at the Tessellated Pavement. This was a place I had fond memories of as a child. We managed to score five minutes of fine weather to hop along the pavement. When the rain came again we took shelter under a sandstone cliff. I sat down on a kind looking rock. For some reason I thought "I wonder if there are any snakes around?" So I cast a quick glance to the side and low and behold, less than one foot away was a brown snake! It was just sitting there quietly. Never thought I could move so quick, or Steve, and he had his wet weather pants down having a pee! We were happy to walk in the rain after that. I do like the Tessellated Pavement, but I didn't want to end my days there.

We had a great evening meal in a pub in Sorell, which included brandy snaps, one of my favourites. Then it was "home again, home again jiggity-jig."

Gordon Dam

Tuesday, 6^th March

Our last day in Hobart and a fine one at that! We were hoping for a good day to do the Hobart to Strathgordon ride, and here it was. It is 159km each way. You have to re-trace your steps on this ride, but it is a pleasure, and it is surprising how different the scenery can look on the return journey. We were on our way early as a 300km trip in Tassie can mean quite a few hours on the road. The cold, crisp morning had me signalling to Steve to stop so I could get the circulation back in my hands. My gloves are not Tasmania proof and it was only March!

The road to Strathgordon is a delightful ride. It meanders through tiny towns which hardly rate a mention on the map and beware, some of them may have run out of fuel! There was plenty of road-kill which kept us on our toes, even a crow-bar sat in the middle of the road - only in Tasmania.

There were still protesters camped out on the road-side trying to save the trees. We asked one of the locals about this as we thought all the remaining trees had been saved. They explained that there is still 2-3% of the old growth forest in danger of logging.

The road was not too challenging in the fine weather which allowed us to relax a little and enjoy the scenery as we rode along. At every opportunity we stopped to pick blackberries. Steve is good at picking them and I am good at eating them - what a team!

Apparently there is a group of enthusiastic individuals who have a vision to "undo" the damming of Lake Pedder and return the area to its original glory. How wonderful it is to listen to people who dare to dream big.

As we approached the Gordon River dam I found myself drawing breath at the sight of the dead trees sticking up out of the water. It was like a grave yard and the dead trees the grave stones. It is only because the water level is so low that it looks like this.

On the way home we gave thanks to the weather God. The ride to Strathgordon is one of the best and we would like to do it again and again and again.

Down the West Coast

Monday, 19^th February

Deck three disembarked first and I quite enjoyed the half hour wait for Steve, watching the different vehicles, cars, caravans and motorcycles drive away was good entertainment. We collected our gas bottle and were soon on our way, just a short ride to the Big4 caravan park at Ulverstone. Once we had booked in I went straight for a shower. Wild horses couldn't get me to pitch the tent first. When the water went cold, I willingly inserted another coin and just stood there, enjoying the feeling of being clean again.

We spent the rest of the day becoming  acquainted with the town and replenishing our fresh fruit and vegetable. You can't take any fresh stuff to Tassie. We were quick to notice the cheap meals in one of the pubs - chicken parma for $5 at 5pm, $6 at 6pm, $7 at 7pm - get the idea? This information stored carefully away for future reference!

 

The Nut, Stanley, Tasmania

Tuesday, 20^th February 

In Tasmania, our idea was to set up basecamp in a few strategic locations, do some of the roads in that area, and then move our home to the next central location. We had three weeks to enjoy the apple isle and were looking forward to it immensely.

We took both bikes for a day out along the north coast, west of Ulverstone. We just meandered along, stopping in all the little towns and taking in the atmosphere of the place. The day was a mild 23^oC, perfect for riding.

We enjoyed our picnic lunch at Stanley, which included a pork pie, purchased from a bakery with a wild driveway, nearly causing an incident with my bike! The town of Stanley sits at the base of an amazing rock formation called The Nut. The Nut is probably the towns biggest tourist attraction and you can take a chair lift to the top to enjoy the views. We chose to do it the hard way and climb, in our draggin jeans again, and we puffed and panted all the way to the top. It is a very steep path, at times I was down to 50 paces before stopping for what seemed like a five minute rest - yes, it took a long time to reach the top. Some Japanese tourists, on their way down, were running, in thongs - scary stuff! The views from the 'summit' were spectacular. There is a pleasant, circular walk at the top which is well worth doing.

On our way down, we had a "growing old disgracefully moment." Where the chair lift passes close to the path, we threatened to steal passengers shoes. Some of them looked quite worried, great fun. Steve would say, with a poker face, "do you think these will fit you," to which I replied "yeah, lets give them ago." the unsuspecting person in the chair would invariably cross their legs and raise them a little so we couldn't reach!

When the day was done, we took the highway ride back to Ulverstone, although on WA standards they are still great roads to ride.

 

Jane becomes part of mural in Sheffield

Wednesday, 21^st February

We used The Bears "Australia Motorcycle Atlas - Top 100 Rides" throughout the trip. This is a great publication and is full of ideas and examples of where to find good roads. We picked ride "60" for the day which passes through the folkie village of Sheffield.

So it was to Sheffield we go, for morning tea of course! Sheffield is the town of murals. We are not into man made tourist attractions, however we enjoyed looking at the murals. They are tastefully painted on many of the walls throughout the town. We had a "Devonshire" tea in a "Scottish" cafe and were entertained by a traditional folkie playing a set of bag pipes. Who said Tasmanians aren't proud of their British ancestry? I had the pleasure of making friends with an Alpaca. He was working in the main street. Wore a little pouch around his neck where you placed a donation if you wanted to have your photo taken with him - very enterprising!

Then I relaxed, taking up the pillion seat, while Steve took me on ride number 60, a circumnavigation of Mt Roland.

In Tasmania we quickly became aware of the short supply of roadside picnic areas. Is this a conspiracy so the tourists spend money in the villages? There were plenty of road signs encouraging motorists to "stop, revive and survive the drive," but where was there to stop? We did find a lovely spot for a rest. It was not marked from the road, and the picnic tables were weather beaten and worn out. It was obviously no longer being maintained.

The ride was wonderful. The scenery changing from tall timber to mountain views. It was a great introduction to the riding that we were going to enjoy for the next three weeks.

 

Cradle Mountain

Thursday, 22^nd February

Nobody told the mossies that live in Tassie's temperate climate to stop treating tropical strength insect repellent like ice-cream! The only way I could protect myself was to keep covered up, this included a cap during the day and a beanie at night! Lucky it was cool enough to wear my draggin jeans, as they just bit straight through my light hemp trousers. On one occasion I chose not to wear my beanie and they just munched away leaving my head itchy for days. Steve is not so badly affected, he gets away with it, unless the bities are in plague proportions!

We were going to have a rest day until we heard on the news that there was a bush fire west of the Cradle Mountain National Park. The park was still open at the moment, but the fire was threatening to close the whole park. Cradle Mountain is one of those "must see" places. The picnic lunch was made and we were on our way within the hour.

We took the B15 from Ulverstone to Upper Castra and then a terrific road, over the ridge and through the valley to Wilmot. Despite enjoying quiet roads all the way to the Cradle Mountain Visitors Centre, there were hundreds of cars in the car park. The place is so congested that there are electronic signs telling you how many parking bays are available - very World Heritage - Not! We declined the offer of a courtesy bus to Dove Lake, and rode ourselves instead. We enjoyed the eight kilometre, twisty, single lane road, even though there were some idiots about!

Dove Lake is at the base of Cradle Mountain. There is an easy 6km walk which circumnavigates the lake, well worth the effort. We brought with us a change of clothes this time, no more walking in those draggin jeans. Cradle Mountain is one hell of a crag, and the views from the lake were beyond expectation. Unfortunately when we completed our walk a thunderstorm was brewing over the mountain, clouds swirling in from all directions. It seemed prudent to quickly bid farewell and stay dry, rather than admire the views a little longer and get soaking wet.

The ride back down was great and the roads quiet once more. We had a coffee in Wilmot, the new owners used to work at a favourite Ulyssian haunt, the Bakers Hill bakery just outside Perth in WA! Small world!

We were unable to ride past the Belgium chocolatier in Latrobe. I know I said that we don't like man made tourist attractions, but I forgot about the ones you can eat, those we like very much! Then it was to the pub for tea. Remember the cheap chicken parma? We settled for Thursdays extra special of Thai curry king prawns and rice, plus chips and salad, for $10 a pop! The food was always great value in Tassie.

 

Friday, 23^rd February

Being a tourist on a motorcycle is a tiring occupation! We desperately needed a rest day, which turned out to be a day spent cleaning, washing and taking on stores. I held onto the carton of beer while riding pillion, an activity which must surely be illegal! Staying in the caravan park with us were some interesting travellers. Marko, from Holland, had cycled all the way from southern Queensland, and Jo, an English backpacker, had been on one of those "survivor" style reality TV shows. It was great to hear of their adventures and we enjoyed their company immensely.

 

Hells Gate, Macquarie Harbour

Saturday, 24^th February

It was time to move our camp site to Strahan. We took the B17 through Gunns Plains which was a fabulous ride. We stopped at the George Woodhouse Lookout for some home made refreshments. There is a commemorative plaque attached to a large boulder. Maybe they scattered his ashes here? George was a local farmer and apparently the lookout was his favourite place. No doubt he spent many hours in a state of meditation and contemplation, and we could quite see why. You could look out, far and beyond the valleys below. It was a great spot to take a break, however, we didn't ponder long as there was no opportunity for a girl to take a pee!

A light drizzle set in before lunch, not heavy, just enough to need the wet weather leggings for warmth. Thank God for the person who invented the "cup-a-soup." We ate our packed lunch sheltering under a lean-to in Rosebery, dined-in for afternoon tea in Zeehan and had another delicious seafood basket in Strahan for dinner. The Tasmanian seafood must be the best we have ever tasted. Strahan was the first place where there was incredible pressure on the camping facilities. There just simply wasn't enough to go around. What was it like after the 2006 AGM, with many more campers taking an extra week to tour the island?

 

Sunday, 25^th February

Sunday dawned a perfect day, not a cloud in the sky and the lightest breeze, just enough to make it comfortable. We did the four hour "sunset" cruise on the Gordon River and it was fantastic. Steve and I can be hard to please in this department but it exceeded our expectations. It was a beautiful, calm, warm afternoon. The cruise included a tour of Sarah Island, the penal colony which preceded Port Arthur. Then we were taken further up stream to view some spindly examples of Huon Pine. It must be one of the slowest growing timbers in the world. Later we were treated to a forest walk where we saw a three thousand year old fallen Huon Pine. It had a girth wider than I dare to remember! We found ourselves saying "wow" a lot and could quite see why the area is world heritage listed. What does puzzle us is the amount of Huon Pine artefacts for sale when the timber is protected.

While we cruised back to Strahan they served the most delicious cold meat, smoked salmon and salad I think I have ever had. We ate our moneys worth in smoked salmon alone! Before the cruise ended, we were taken to Hells Gate, the entrance to Macquarie Harbour. We always thought that the entrance was called Hells Gate because of the dangerous state of the ocean. However the entrance was named by the convicts because it represented the gates to hell. Hell being the life they would lead on Sarah Island.

If you ever find your way to Strahan, take the Gordon River Cruise, you won't be disappointed.

 

Cheese and biscuits for lunch

Monday, 26^th February

We departed Strahan for the long ride to Lake St Clair National Park - a whole 170km! Its easy to be fooled by the distances in Tasmania. Because the roads are so twisty, you may only average 45km/h. This can turn a 170km journey into four hours on the road!

The road leading out of Queenstown took us a little by surprise. It is very steep and comprises a succession of hair-pin bends, perhaps 100 of them. They come at you one after the other for what seems like a very long time. We were lucky to cop them going up. We'd hate to have to tackle them going down, in the wet! While we were in Tassie someone lost it on one of these bends. The rider was ok, the bike was a total write-off.

The day was all about the ride, however we did enjoy the walk up to Donaghy's Hill Lookout, the views over to Frenchman's Cap were spectacular.

At Franklin River

We set up camp in the Lake St Clair National Park. A beautiful setting amongst very tall trees. There were many long distance walkers in the camping area and the atmosphere was great. Just one word of warning, the shower tokens don't just operate the hot water. They operate both hot and cold. So make sure you have a spare one with you because when the token runs out, the water is turned off and you might just be left all soaped up and wondering what to do. It was the one and only time we ever came across this practice. Usually only the hot water disappears. You can at least complete your shower in cold if necessary. Come on Lake St Clair, give us a break, with all that fresh water around how about letting us have a cold shower for free!

It was here we had our first close encounter with brush tail possums. After dinner we went for a light stroll to the visitors centre. It was nearly dark when we returned to camp and the possums had already come out to play. One little guy had the lid off our food container and was munching away at what ever he could lay his fat little hands on. Even when we clapped our hands he just sat there as if to say "and who are you?" They have a nasty habit of taking one bite out of everything. They even got into the remaining few slices of our fruit cake. I think if we hadn't nearly eaten all of it there would have been possum pie on the menu for the next week! We cleaned up and kept the food box and eski locked in the trailer when ever there were possums around.

 

Tuesday, 27^th February

We enjoyed a short two hour walk not far from our campsite. The scenery was a little disappointing, we probably needed to take the ferry and go deeper into the national park for more spectacular views. In the afternoon we made a nuisance of ourselves socialising with the walkers. And we thought we were doing it tough!

Across The Nullarbor

Gordon River Road, Tasmania

Steve and I were both riding bikes when we first met. We got into marriage and out of bikes in 1982, a period of abstinence lasting more than 20 years! In 2004 Steve fell in love with a 2001 Kawasaki Vulcan 1500, and in 2005 I met the same fate with a Yamaha Vstar 650!

Our plan was to ride from Perth to Victoria in early April 2007, taking in the Ulysses AGM at Coffs Harbour, before returning home in June. It would be our first long road journey by bike. Everything was booked and paid for. But plans are made for mice and men. It all changed when Steve found out, at the end of January, that he would be starting work immediately after Easter. So we brought our camping trip forward, changed our destination to Tassi and Victoria and were on our way one week later. Here is our diary.

 

Loading Steve's bike & trailer on tilt-tray truck

Monday, 5^th February

Left home at 6:15am. I had imagined this day for some time. The one when we would leave behind, for a short while, the suburban life for a life on the road. The heavy peak hour traffic certainly took all the romance out of it for the first hour but we were soon on our way, heading east with not a care in the world, until 9:45am! Not bad, that was two and a half hours! Steve's bike said "sorry, better to punish you now than when you are half way across the Nullarbor," and died - 21km east of Cunderdin, 225km from home. Clutch gone. Thank goodness for RAC Ultimate. Once we had organised a tow, I rode home. Steve waited on the side of the road till 3:30pm for the tilt tray truck to arrive, but we aren't complaining. Steve didn't arrive home until 7:30pm. He was still smiling, just!

There is a lesson in everything that happens and we learnt that even though you feel that you are travelling as one, you are actually two independent vehicles. You must always have with you your wallet, change for a phone, reading glasses, water etc, and understand that at any moment you may be required to ride on alone.

 

Tuesday, 6^th February

Another tow was required the next day to get the Kwaka from home to Kim Britton's for repairs. The repairs were completed in a day and we were ready to leave once more. I couldn't believe it when someone asked me "has it beaten you?" "no" came the reply. "it would take more than a clutch failure to deter us from doing something we really wanted to do."

 

Wednesday, 7^th February

Take two! Up and away 40 minutes earlier this time and the traffic was much lighter. We didn't really start to relax until we had passed the "break down point" east of Cunderdin. After that, the miles ticked by easily as we relaxed into our riding pattern, taking plenty of breaks and keeping ourselves hydrated.

A thunderstorm cooled us down as we approached Norseman. The unique smell of the Aussie bush, wet after months of dryness, was aroma-therapy to us. We spent the night at the motel attached to the BP garage (next time we will try the Best Western), had a pizza and a pint at the pub in town and slept soundly, with a smile on our faces, the adventure just begun.

 

Seven months touring on a Postie bike!

Thursday, 8^th February

It wasn't fully light when we left Norseman at 6:40am so we rode cautiously for the first hour to avoid any Kangaroos that may be late going to bed. There is something magical about being on the road in that first light. Quiet and pristine before a new day is fully commissioned.

We passed six bikes heading west (a group of two and a group of four), and stopped to say hi to a Japanese biker who had been touring on his Postie bike (Honda CT110) for seven months. Made us feel like we were travelling in a Rolls Royce!

When we stopped at Madura it was 32^oC. The guy told us that three days before it had reached 49^oC. A sobering thought. However we continued to ride in pleasant conditions, one day ahead of some hot weather that was making its way east. We were at Border Village by 5:30pm, another 726km under our belts. We took a motel room and ate some very average food in the restaurant. Will stick to "truckie tucker" in future, nothing complex like a risotto! Eucla, just next door, will be the preferred place to stay next time around.

 

Only 340km of stray animals

Friday, 9^th February

An easier days riding lay ahead with only 486km to reach Ceduna. With plenty of time to spare we took the opportunity to take in the beautiful scenery of the Great Australian Bight. There is nothing quite like a jam sandwich and a fresh brew of coffee amongst the splendour of that amazing coast line.

While hanging out at Nullarbor Roadhouse, this truckie, heading west, pulls up and says "I guess it was you who did a clutch just outside Cunderdin?" "Well yes" came the reply, "and who the hell are you?" Turns out he was Dick, Dave's dad. Dave works for Kim Britton. A small world.

Ceduna made us welcome and we pitched our tent, which would become home for the next seven weeks, for the first time.

 

Great Australian Bight

Our first camp site, at Ceduna

Saturday, 10^th February

We cleaned and checked our bikes, attended to other domestic duties and spent much of the day "stroking the dog" and feeling pretty pleased with ourselves having made Ceduna in three days.

Our Polmac trailer contains a 25lt eski (which can keep ice for up to three days) and three storage boxes. The first box held the food, plates and cutlery, the second, tools, spares and paperwork, and the last,  cooking and cleaning facilities. Also in the trailer were sleeping bags, self inflating mattresses, pillows (our only luxury from home), microfibre towels, and on occasion a carton of beer (each can having to find its own little space). Tied to the top of the trailer are two folding chairs, a folding table and the tent. On the front of the trailer is 10lt of drinking water (with the capacity to take 20lt). We did not carry fuel.

Our tent is a four man dome with a vestibule. When we set up camp we placed the boxes and eski in the vestibule and the helmets and jackets were kept in the trailer. Clothes were carried in a tail bag on Steve's bike. In my saddlebags were wash-bag, day bag (tea, coffee, cups), two flasks and three litres of drinking water. In Steve's saddlebags were the bike covers, hats, camera, binoculars, etc.

Packing that lot up was a precise three dimensional jigsaw puzzle and when completed there wasn't an ounce of space any where!

 

Sunday, 11^th February

We left Ceduna in a howling sou'easter. We took local advice and went via Smokey and Streaky Bays. Pretty little spots but the road is quite straight and not as enjoyable as we were led to believe. Still, well worth the detour as it kept us away from the trucks and the Eyre Highway for a few kilometres. We rejoined the Eyre Highway at Poochera and trundled along arriving at Port Augusta by 3:30pm. Still time to go a little further before the Roos come out to play! We crossed the southern end of the Flinders Range via Horrocks Pass. It was getting a little late in the day to enjoy this fabulous ride but it is short and sweet and we made it easily. That night we camped under the watchful eye of Mount Remarkable in the Melrose caravan park. Delightful.

 

My Yamaha Vstar and the
Paddle Steamer Murray Princess

Monday, 12^th February

Packing up the tent was a procedure that took a long time, even at the end of seven weeks of setting up and taking down it still took us one and half hours to be ready to leave. It became a less arduous exercise as time went on, however it still took a long time. One thing we learnt very early on was don't close anything (not the storage boxes, not the trailer, not the saddle bags) until you are ready to turn the key in the ignition and pull away. In the early days the amount of times the saddle bags were done up and undone was nearly too much for a human to bear!

We reluctantly left Melrose, but with a night-time crossing to Tassi booked for Sunday 18th February we needed to keep moving. We took a moment to walk down the main street of Melrose, and pondered awhile at the monument in the park in the middle of town. This monument is a tribute to the pioneers of the area and there are details of ages and cause of death of some of the people. If seems 40 years of age was old back then!

We had built up quite an appetite by the time we arrived at the Stone Hut Bakery (40km). We stopped without hesitation, despite being only 10am, and had the best pie ever! Then we settled into a great ride through the Clare Valley, admiring the old buildings as we passed through the many towns on the route. We turned onto the Kapunda Road at Tarlee and enjoyed a great twisty ride up the hill. Then on through Kapunda, Nuriootpa, Angaston and Mt Pleasant to arrive at Mannum, on the Murray River at 3:45pm. We puffed and panted as we set up camp in the hot afternoon sun but felt pleasantly contented, it had been a good day.

 

Tuesday, 13^th February

Stayed the day to do the weekly domestics. Seemed too hot to go riding in the afternoon, so we took a leisurely walk along the banks of the Murray River and got sun burnt instead!

 

Wednesday, 14^th February

Although a hot day was forecast for Adelaide we decided to risk the "inland" route and rode through Keith and Naracoorte to Mt. Gambier. Riding through the Coonawarra wine growing region was pure pleasure - O the power of the imagination!

There is a bend around every corner on the road from Mt Gambier to Portland which was magic. Police became apparent when the speed limit changed from 110 to 100 at the SA/Vic border! We pushed on to Port Fairy, where a comfortable campsite awaited us together with pricey squid rings at the local fish and chip shop ($9.60 for six, and they were small too)! After reading so much about Port Fairy during our sailing days it was great to be there.

 

Port Fairy

Thursday, 15^th February

We stayed the day to check out the town and the harbour entrance for future reference! In the morning we enjoyed a walk around Griffiths Island, despite some discomfort from our clinging Draggin jeans, but hey we might have fallen over! In the afternoon we took a ride out to Tower Hill which is an extinct volcano. There was plenty of wildlife in the park at the visitors centre and we were fortunate to see a little Echidna busily preparing his nest for the night. The build up of thunder and storm clouds saw us make a hasty retreat back to basecamp for happy hour and a bbq tea.

 

London Bridge, Great Ocean Road

Friday, 16^th February

So it was Great Ocean Road here we come. It was going to be a scorcher but we had to leave. By morning tea we had thrown caution to the wind and neither of us were riding in Draggin Jeans. Later in the day Steve ditched his jacket too! Despite the steamy conditions, and tourist numbers not seen since travelling in Great Britain, we enjoyed ourselves. The scenery is so splendid,  just a shame about the people! We lost count of the number of times we parked at a lookout, locked up the helmets and jackets, undid the saddle bags to get the stuff you just can't leave behind and then did it all again, in reverse, when we were ready to leave. It made us tired and a little grumpy, but hey this was The Great Ocean Road and no matter how much you suffer you have to stop and take in the sights, right?

We copped a stretch of slippery road works going up and down a very steep pass as we approached Lavers Hill. It made a big mess of our bikes, the clay sticking like **** in some hard to reach places! I was leading and missed our lunch stop, which didn't impress Steve as he likes food, a lot! A delicious ice-cream in Apollo Bay quenched our thirst and our tempers. Not content to quit while we were ahead, we pushed on the extra hour to Lorne to arrive looking a little bedraggled. A wise man once said to me "don't do the same thing and expect the result to be different." We tried to learn from our mistake! Lucky for us there was a well equipped supermarket and bottle shop right next door to the caravan park. We were smiling within the hour!

 

Saturday, 17^th February

It was rub-a-dub-dub time for the bikes before we could allow ourselves the luxury of relaxing in town. The Arab Cafe lured us inside. A Yamaha R1 mounted high on the wall was a sure sign that we should take a seat and check out the menu. With my Rossi cap in tow I felt like part of the furniture! The cafe owners brother was killed on a motorcycle on the Great Ocean Road. The R1 was one of his brothers bikes. We enjoyed looking at all the bike orientated photographs which took up much of the wall space. O' I mustn't forget, the apparently famous apple strudel was fantastic.

In the afternoon some locals said "why don't you go play with the Koalas? You will find them about half way between Lorne and Apollo Bay," so we went. They are harder to find than you think, but once we had developed our Koala spotting eyes, they were everywhere. Some high in the trees and some only a few meters away. One little guy watched Steve walk all the way around his tree then promptly went back to sleep. The Great Ocean Road between Lorne and Apollo Bay is probably the best part and it was great to do some of it again.

 

Queuing in the rain

Sunday, 18^th February

We awoke feeling very excited. It had been a dream of mine for some time to revisit Tasmania. I had lived there as a child between the age of nine and fifteen years old. To turn up again, some 30 years later, on my own motor bike, was something out of fantasy land to me.

We packed up the tent slowly as we had a whole day to kill before catching the ferry, and it was going to be a scorcher, 39^oC! The Great Ocean Road was very busy, but generally the drivers are not aggressive like they are in the West and despite the heat we had a thoroughly enjoyable ride to Geelong.

For a while we joined the large number of locals that had turned out to watch the speed boat racing. When the heat got too much, we holed up in an air conditioned cafe on the town jetty and watched the spectacle from there.

We left Geelong at 2:30pm and were parked close to the ferry terminal by 3:30pm. Boarding time didn't start until 6:30pm which left us wondering what to do with ourselves! A cold shower in a beach side ablution block sounded like a good idea. Steve went on the "shower finding" mission only to return half an hour later and report "toilets yes, showers no!" So we had to stay grubby till the next day. The wise man also said "you get used to it." And he is right. Once you relax and except your circumstances, you feel just fine!

Late afternoon the clouds built up until they could hold on no more, and the rain came down. Soaking everything and leaving slippery on-ramps for unsuspecting riders! Boarding time is a long arduous process of stop, start and breathing in copious amounts of exhaust fumes from burnt out motors. At the last minute Steve and I were separated. I went onto deck three. Steve was told to wait. The word came back that deck three was now full and Steve was ushered to deck five. This would have been fine except I didn't have my ticket.

Leaving the mainland on the 
Spirit of Tasmania Ferry

After my bike had been secured I waited for Steve in one of the lounges. Time went on and he didn't show up so I presented my plight at the pursers office, showed my drivers licence, and they issued me with a new ticket. At least I could go and dump my stuff on my allocated seat. Of course Steve turned up five minutes later!

Once we settled down and had a light supper in the galley restaurant, I retired to my seat for the night. Steve tried to stay awake to see the ship go through the heads to Port Phillip Bay but he didn't make it. Before we knew where we were, it was 6am, we were up and about and watching Tasmania rise above the horizon. Our Tassie adventure just begun.