Day 1 – Hobart to Dunalley (90)

Departed Hobart late in the morning after over indulging in the Taste Tasmania festival on Saturday, watching Wild Oats take out another Sydney to Hobart.

Plan was to head towards Marion Bay to ensure a short ride to Falls Festival the following morning. Frequent stops to sample the local fare. Cherries, oysters, crayfish Po’ Boy.

Finished the day in Dunalley, the local pub encourages you to throw up your tent in the adjacent paddock. Tent was pitched and kit thrown in seconds before a storm blew in. Took refuge in the pub with a few beers and a hearty meal.

          

Day 2 – Dunalley to Marion Bay (Falls Festival) (10)

Just a short ride along the coast to take me up to Falls Music and Arts Festival at Marion Bay. Smiles all around from the volunteers when they saw me pedal in.

Day 3 – Falls Festival (0)

No cycling.

Day  4 – Marion Bay to Triabunna (50)

Woke up and began packing at 7 or 8 in the morning after hitting the pillow at 4am on New Year’s Morning. Still feeling the effects of the night before, I cycled out of the festival, weaving in and out of a busy procession of cars. The stress of the hangover and heavy traffic led me to take a dirt road through the Wielangta Forest.

The road was utterly rotten. Fist sized rocks, huge divots and steep climbs on the back of a righteous hangover. Tired and scatter brained, it was a long stretch of road characterized by twitching and hearing the echoes of the night before.

I eventually made it to Orford and inhaled half the contents of the town bakery. Later, lying senseless on a beach, two German cyclists came and joked about the amount of gear I was carrying.

Pushed on to Triabunna and stayed at the caravan park. A small dog decided to use me as his personal armchair. An ambulance came into the caravan park to treat another cycle tourist who had just arrived. She had come off her bike on that demon road of Wielangta.

      

Day 5 – Triabunna to Coles Bay (118)

An earnest days cycling. Featured scallop pies and fresh cherry ice cream. Long flat cycle down the Freycinet Penninsula to Coles Bay. All the accommodation was fully booked, so I hung out in a park for a while until the sun began to go down.

Searching around the town for a place to sleep, I settled on the sand dunes and weaved my bike up through the scrub until I found a spot hidden from the beach and town. There was no room to set up a tent, so I lay down on a tarp and hoped it didn’t rain.

Day 6 – Coles Bay to Douglas River (62)

I had come South down the Freycinet peninsula so that I may go hiking in the Freycinet National Park, in particular Wineglass Bay. After crawling out of the sand dunes, I was greatly disappointed to find that all the walks had been closed for the day due to fire danger.

Cycling back up the peninsula, I waited an hour at an airstrip to see Freycinet from the sky, until I was told that all remaining flights were grounded due to the same wind that would fuel a fire.

Further North, I poked around Bicheno and had a refreshing jump from a bridge into Denison River. I spent the night at a friend’s beach shack – a corral of caravans and sheds at the junction of Douglas River and the ocean. The food, drinks and company more than made up for a trying start to the day.

        

Day 7 – Douglas River to Bay of Fires (103)

Howling winds, scrambling possums and roommate night terrors made for a restless sleep. I offloaded some of my kit to be taken back to Hobart, gulped down two sweet, black coffees and left the shack.

The lighter load (and perhaps the caffeine) made the kilometers to the Iron House Brewery fly by. Hit a market before St Helens for some caravan sushi and met some terrifying hounds. Negotiated a half price camp at St Helens and deposited my gear before riding (unloaded) to Binalong Bay and the Bay of Fires.

Day 8 – St Helens to Scottsdale (116)

Moving west from the coast, this was the first day with significant ascents. Took a detour to Pyengara to visit a dairy farm and cheese producer. Threw the bike on a set of agricultural scales and gear included, it was weighing 45kgs. Big climb up to a lookout that was obscured in every direction by trees.

Amazing downhill section through the Weldborough rain forest. Sweeping turns and lush scenery. Flattened out at Weldborough town and I stopped at the pub for some craft beer. To my delight, the road out of town led to an even longer down hill section through more forest. A spectacular ride.

Undulating farmland. Derby was without people. Branxholm was full of weird bogans. A father and son yelled out from their front lawn ” ‘ave ya got any money for us?”

Somewhere above 90kms for the day and feeling knackered, I decided to push on and take the North East Rail trail to Scottsdale, rather than the shorter and smoother road.

Although the scenery, solitude, birds and animals (many echidnas!) were spectacular, the trail was still covered in railway ballast stones which made for an unbearably bumpy ride. It absolutely shook my bike to pieces.

At Scottsdale, there is a free campground which is unfortunately located in close proximity to a park in which local bogans thrash their utes and discuss upcoming court dates.

                       

Day 9 – Scottsdale to Launceston (73)

Slow start out of Scottsdale waiting for dew on tent to dry out. Rolling hills and farmland looked to be the order of the day.

I came upon two kookaburras sitting in the middle of the road, one injured, one presumably its buddy. A ute flew past at >100km/h but did not hit the birds. I pulled off the road, picked up the injured bird and took it into the scrub on the side of the road. I could not immediately see what was wrong with it, but perhaps I condemned it to a more drawn out death than it would have had on the road. I hope not.

Lunch in Lilydale, hit the down hills after Hollybank treetops. Checked into the arthouse hostel in Launceston (super lovely). Took the nearby James Boags brewery tour, which involves beer tasting with a cheese platter.

Day 10 – Launceston to Mole Creek (92)

Small climb out of Launceston followed by almost an entire day of flat or slightly downhill riding. Incredible campsite at Mole Creek – river flowed through the camp ground and surrounded by views of the Great Western Tiers.

I had questions about the water quality up in the mountains, so the camp caretaker put me in contact with a local roof shingler called Neville. He said he never took water and drank directly from moving water, which was all the encouragement I needed. Also told me that since a thief had been caught at the Walls of Jerusalem car park a couple of years back, there had rarely been any robberies.

Added about 20kg of food and water to my bike for the next few days of relative wilderness.

Day 11 – Mole Creek to Walls of Jerusalem (48)

Overcast, misty weather kept me cool as I started my ascent up into the Western Tiers. The mist became rain and the rain fell harder. Thinking it was a passing shower, I did not put on a rain jacket at first and ended up totally drenched. Desperate for shelter, I turned up a road away from my destination in hope of finding a picnic area.

I ended up taking refuge under a bridge, lurking like a troll while I dried off and warmed back up. Very slow progress on the road with my heavily loaded bike. Stopped again at a whitewater canoe hut. Had trouble with rear brakes (some residue build up) and found myself relying on front only.

Had to push my bike the last part of the way up to the Walls of Jerusalem car park due the poor quality of surface and tremendous incline. Covered in leeches, I set up my tent and collapsed inside.

Leeches, ticks, spiders, insects and worms crawled on my tent’s fly. All my gear was drenched and I was exhausted. Thinking of the following day, I realised I would have to cycle out of this campsite after doing a ~25km hike.

      

Day 12 – Walls of Jerusalem to Olivers Rd (27 + 25 hike)

An early start, I ate, packed, hid my gear in the scrub and was hiking by 630am. A steep climb up to the trapper’s hut, followed by more climbing to Solomon’s Jewels, a series of picturesque lakes.

An absolutely breathtaking walk, full of spectacular landscape and many animals. Due to my early start, I had the place completely to myself for several hours. Incredible view from the summit of Mt Jerusalem, it was a very clear day. Collected fresh water from a mountain stream.

Began feeling anxious again when I returned to my bike as I was low on water and my brakes were not 100%. On the steep down hill out of the carpark, I almost came off the bike (I did come off the road).

Set camp on the banks of a river, near where I had taken shelter under a bridge two days prior. Treated myself to a fresh swim in the river.

Day 13 – River Camp to Cradle Mountain (57)

I awoke fully clothed with my contact lenses still in. Evidently the day before had utterly exhausted me to new levels of fatigue.

Some anxiety about my water situation (I was not sure of the river quality as there was 24hr works at the dams up stream of the river). Had a small breakfast so I would not dehydrate myself further and took a bottle of river water as an emergency resort. I decided to hail down a car when I saw one.

Early in the ride, I happened to ride past an isolated property in which the owner was just wheeling his mower out to do the lawns. He helped me out and filled all my bottles with fresh spring water that spouted from a cliff above his property. Possibly the freshest water I have ever tasted.

Big climb to a lookout, big descent to a coffee shop. Another big ascent (~800m) was made easier by the encouragement and thumbs up from passing motorists. I passed a farm selling emus for $60, which I think is quite reasonable.

Overjoyed to arrive at the Cradle Mountain Caravan park. Filled up on spaghetti and craft beers.

Day 14 – Cradle Mountain (18 + 14 hike)

Relaxed start with no pressure to pack camp. Rode an unloaded Felix all the way into the National Park, through alpine forest and locked the bike at Ronny Creek car park.

Walked via Crater Peak, Cradle Mountain, Dove Lake and the Ballroom forest. The climb up cradle mountain was a scramble over boulders and I cooled off afterwards with a dip in Lake Wilks.

Day 15 – Cradle Mountain to Rosebery (72)

Lazy, downhill day for the most part. Cafe in Tullah for lunch had impressive views of Lake Rosebery. A big hill and high temperatures at the very end of the day was a bit trying, especially given Rosebery itself was quite underwhelming. A small mining town.

Day 16 – Rosebery to Lake Burbury (80)

The whole region seems to be employed in forestry or mining. Had lunch in Queenstown, a town almost devoid of trees. I suppose some aspect of its mining history had resulted in the surrounding hills and mountains to be devoid of trees.

Camped on Lake Burbury, but unfortunately had no water views.

Day 17 – Burbury Lake to Lake St Clair (74)

Rained all night long and I stepped out of the tent into marshland. The rain did not let up for the entire day. Riding through the Franklin-Gordon Conservation area, there was no infrastructure or shelter of any kind until the car park for the Frenchman’s Cap hiking trail. I shared the shelter with a bloke on his motorbike who was similarly drenched.

Camped by Lake St Clair, the rain made for poor visibility.

 

Day 18 – Lake St Clair to Taroona (190)

Original plan was to do this distance over two days, spending the night in Hamilton. As I was riding, I made the decision to do it all in one final push and get all the way to Hobart in one day.

Passed through some nice farmland and a few small towns. Tarraleah was built as part of the Tasmanian Hydro system, but now used as a sort of resort.

Pulled into Hobart waterfront for some end of tour photos, then cycled to my cousins house, finishing up about 8pm.

I spent a couple of days recovering and checking out MONAFOMA in Hobart before flying home to South Australia. My bike box came apart during the flight and I lost a saddlebag with pedals and a multitool.

This trip was a trial run for a larger, long term adventure. Bring on South America.