Hosko’s Tassie Tour

Hosko’s 10th Anniversary Tassie Tour

by H, Rolf, Hosko and Phil R

This ride report was originally published in the April 2009 issue of the Motorcycle Tourers club magazine, ‘Chain Lube’.


Tour Report

by Hosko

Yes, i now feel 10 years older and wiser after completing another successful week away trip with the tourers. We had 17 bikes, 21 people and 2 cars.

Many thanks to H, Rolf, Phil, Adam, John M, Gary, Dave and Tim for ride leaders and rear riders for the trip… many side trips were also done by individuals on the lay days.

A total of somewhere around 2300km was done (depending on the side trips) over the 9 day bike ride. Not a lot compared to previous mainland trips, but if you know Tassie, it takes all day to do those twisties.

Accommodation, as always can be a hit’n’miss, without actually seeing them, but this time the majority proved worthwhile. They ranged from having a Sergeant Major (Devonport) telling the group on how to lock their doors to having an honesty bar (Cradle Mountain) that certainly got the group well primed… and it all balanced!!

Weather was well predicted, from sunny days on the bike to hail while hiking in cradle mountain area… again my influence upstairs was incredible.

Music arrangements were somewhat varied, from Abba-dressed tourers to Mike on the piano with Ross doing a dance (1940’s???) for the Tourers’ (and locals’) amusement.

Some new roads were found and many old favorites were rediscovered; we even stopped (well most of us) this time on the Hobart to Strahan road for short walks to fantastic lookouts and waterfalls.

Many a corner was conquered (and well photographed by Nigel, Brett and Adam) and only 3 ooops occurred… 2 slight drops by scooter Adam (time for bigger wheels!!) whilst slowing on gravel and a tiger that has its own mind when its owner is off photographing… we all came around the corner that Nigel was laying in wait to see a top heavy bike resting on its side…

No doubt plenty of photos and some ride reports will follow to show other tourers what they missed out on…

Time for a holiday… maybe

Hosko


Day 2 Ride Report – Devonport to Swansea

by H

What an early start to Motor Cycle Tourers ride it was to begin the Tassie trip. The early warning hooter, no we are not sinking, we are about to dock so it is 5.00 am and time to dive into the leathers and head to deck Z15 or something to find the bikes. The day didn’t start all that well when a simple crossing of the Mersey River in Devonport for an early breakfast turned into a search for 3 or 4 missing tourers who had gone missing in the first 2 kilometers.

After lunch in Devonport it was the beginning of our annual ride adventure. In all we began with 17 bikes, 2 cars and 21 people (and a partridge in a pear tree!!!). At this stage things didn’t improve as on the first leg of the trip most of us stayed on the main road, you know the rules if there is no one marking a corner stay on the main road, however about 5 tourers were faced with an early dilemma!!! The main road went left, a farm road went straight and there was no one corner marking, what to do????!!! Obviously you go straight ahead and end up in farmer Giles barn!!!!

At our regroup we finally worked out to mark ALL corners, just in case. After the farm yard adventures we headed north of Launceston to cross the Tamar River at Deviot (where else would this band of merry men, and Kate, cross!!!!) with what has become the Tourers’ first photo opportunity after leaving the boat, the view of the underside of the spectacular Batman Bridge and camp ground. From here it was off to George Town and Low Head for our first Latte stop of many on the trip. George Town is one of those early settler type places that has been renovated back to its former glory with magnificent green manicured lawns. We were actually amazed to see lawns of such a vivid green after the years of drought and fires in Victoria. It all makes riding so much more pleasant and enjoyable. From Low Head plan A was to head though Pipers River south to Lilydale and east to Scottsdale. Luck I had a plan B as I am still looking for the town called Pipers River to make a right turn. We eventually got to Bridport on the north coast instead for a refuel and then off to Scottsdale and St Helens for lunch and Latte.

After lunch the real Tassie ride began in earnest, the winding roads began!!!!

The run south along the east coast takes in Elephant Pass and is the first of many exciting stretches of roads on the trip. We had planned on stopping at a little Café for pancakes at the top of the Pass however as time was running out and the furry creatures come out at dusk we thought it best to continue on without a stop. Unfortunately (!!!!!####) Graham and Ross had already stopped in the car at the café and rumor has it that they had to eat enough pancakes for the whole group who they hear thunder past in the distance.

The run from Elephants Pass south to our first night stop was relatively uneventful, except for the small wallaby who had a bit of a death wish and jumped in front of the flying MV. I didn’t manage to avoid this one either (just ask DP some time about our previous kangaroo adventure) and hit the poor thing with the right side of the bike. No damage to me or the MV except for some fur on the rear brake lever. Everyone following managed to miss the fallen wallaby, except for Tim on the flying suitcase who struck it quite heavily, bending one of his crash bars in the process. Needless to say we now have added some wallaby to the club meeting venue’s road kill Wednesday Menu.

We all arrived safely at our first night’s accommodation in Swansea. Meredith House really had to be seen to be believed and Hosko surpassed himself in arranging probably the best accommodation in the area for us.

That’s all for the first day, read on for day 3!!!


Day 3 – Swansea to Hobart

by Rolf

Day 3 of the Tassie Tour dawned misty but with promise, “clearing showers” was the promise! Most of the group managed to work out the two-shift breakfast arrangement, although there was a notable number of Shift A riff-raff still skulking about as the Shift B croissants came out. It was a huge and hearty start to the day, just as well really because we had a daring plan to challenge some of eastern Tassie’s most remote areas during the day. It looked impressive, on the map anyway. Maybe we’d even need a cut lunch! Hobart was only 100km away, but the plan was for a scenic quadrupling of that, at least.

After the random straggler scenarios of our the day before, I decided my mission was to keep the group close, tight and social. A brief briefing on top of the hill beside our gentile Swansea accommodation (“best of the trip” Hosko warned us), and we were rolling north through mild sunshine, back out of town the way we came the day before. No further sign of the scooter-mounted Mad Max French Mayor as we swung west off the main highway and began an ascent into ominously cloudy mountains. Good sweepers tightened into hotmix hairpins, spoilt only by swathes of gravel spread by your friendly local roadworkers . . who were nicely set up to spectate at the exit of the first tight corner. Multiple examples of run-wide shame ensued (apparently).

A break and re-group at cloud-bound Mt Blackwood afforded H the opportunity to just miss another cute furry critter. Some people smoked. Moving off, climbing the range gave us all some valuable truck, bus and hillbilly overtaking practice, before cresting the divide into another world. The sun burst through the clouds as we dropped down into a gorgeous hidden valley, emerald green fields the setting for a seductive ribbon of empty bitumen leading us westwards. Spirits and speeds climbed as the 999 began to stretch his sculpted Italian legs . . .

A fuel and pit stop at Campbell Town went with military precision and showcased just how in the groove the Tourers were today. Some tricky dog-legging across rolling farmland ensued, not helped by my WA-calibrated mental map distance-o-meter which took a while to adjust to the scale of Tassie maps. Even a half-hour ride takes one across several map folds. Amazing! Overshooting turn-offs was a real risk, but we managed to find our way through this smaller-and-more-civilised-than-expected remote wilderness to Poatina, and our first educational lookout lecture from Kate on Harry The Hydro Station. Onwards along empty sun-dappled roads to our first lattes (and vanilla slices) of the day at Bothwell. Not a cloud in the sky!

All were still digesting breakfast (and vanilla slices), so we voted to continue for lunch at any handy random café that looked good. The combination of the words “good-looking” and “random” in one sentence certainly got Fab’s attention. West and south we headed, through some of the most spectacularly arid scenery ever seen in Tassie, bald hills devoid of a single blade of grass, with rickety abandoned farmhouses subsiding into the red dust. Nice to look at, but you wouldn’t want to live there. Guess that’s why nobody does . . .

A quaint but tedious one-pump fuel stop at Hamilton saw us take up a collection for the phantom 18th rider who apparently bought $11.75 worth of premium. John H was briefly held hostage by the elderly spinster behind the cash register while it was being sorted out. Mainlanders, can’t trust ‘em!!

Pressing westwards again, directly away from our destination, we looped through some very pleasant countryside around Ellendale and Fenton-bury (yes, it was suggested) before the Westerway junction, a spot that would become familiar to a number of the Tourers over the next few days. A quick scout ahead of H turned up the perfect riverside café, complete with large sand-pit. A relaxed lunch followed, possibly less relaxed for the table of elderly ladies who were already sipping their mid-afternoon lattes when we arrived.

A lazy run east took us along the B62 and southern riverbank into to New Norfolk, the A10 and finally onto Route 1 into central Hobart. Mental note to avoid that awful right turn onto Route 1 next time by taking the magnificent C615 short-cut through Molesworth, Glenlusk (not Glenlust) and Berriedale. It was on Route 1 we were reminded it was 4pm on a Friday, and Hobart does indeed have a peak hour. Not a huge volume of traffic admittedly, but driving habits give Perth and the Gold Coast a run for their money as nation’s worst. Everybody switched on to conditions and the group stayed tight all the way to our hilltop Hobart hotel, despite the CBD roundabout u-turn I cunningly threw in right at the end.

All up, a magnificent and varied 430km run through some classic Tassie scenery (looks a bit like Victoria did before it died of thirst). My thanks go to Hosko, who made it all happen, the corner markers (don’t know how you guys do it!!), my tail rider, my parents of course, my Ducati Service Centre team, ANZ Visa, and my shrink…


Day 6 – Hobart to Strahan

by Hosko

Today left Hobart for our next two nights accommodation at Strahan, a picturesque seaside village based on the north west coast of tassie. Steeped deep in convict settlement (Sarah Isle) and Huon pine logging history.

Approximately 250klms of the best roads Tassie can throw at us were encountered, stopping at Tarraleah power station for the obligatory picture gallery shots and lunch at Derwent Bridge Hotel (midway point) that also has lots of great nomad coach tours stopping here. I had to nearly tie a rainbow around some of our group just to make sure they did not get onto the wrong vehicles.

A short walk at Donaghys Hill lookout (20min) for a fantastic view point of the Franklin River and its surrounding area. (I worked as a river guide for 5 years and this is the area where they start the 10 day trips).

I could see Rolf and H struggling to keep up with me, so i felt sorry for them and let them go past knowing that the nelson waterfall walk may not be their immediate needs…

Queenstown was achieved in a short time and a quick petrol stop and onto Strahran as the day was getting on. We settled into the Cottage accommodation and had a Pub meal to finish the night off…

Tuesday was a combination day of choice for either the Gordon river cruise…ABT railyway or just a day ride…


Secondary coffee ride ex Strahan – highly recommended

by Rolf

Strahan back to Queenstown around midday, no traffic at all, turned north on the A10 for a while, then right onto the B28 towards Tullah. Absolutely deserted, endless sweepers in the 60-80km/h signed range, flashes of lake beside you. Left before Tullah to Rosebury and Zeehan before looping back to Strahan on the acclaimed B27. All up, 220km of magnificent riding!!


Another Adventure of the Famous Five!

The Famous Five (and 17) go Camping (it up).

by Phil R (with apologies to Enid Blyton)

Executive Summary: B27/A10/B23/A10/A1/B16/C132.

For those who are not familiar with Enid Blyton’s “The Famous Five” books, or in our case, the famous 23, they are a group of mostly grown up children who have the sort of adventures most kids dream about – usually involving a lot of camping it up and ejaculations – verbal of course. They exist in a world where ginger beer flows and ham rolls are a staple diet or in our case, warm soy lattés and muffins. In the next instalment, The Famous 17 Bikers and two cars get together with their Den Mother, a very “fierce” girl called Kate in their first Tasmanian adventure, so, boys and girls, here we go:

Phil will lead all the boys and girl tomorrow on their motor bicycles to Cradle Mountain announced Mr Hosko to the gathered boys and girl. “Gosh, all that responsibility,” I ejaculated! How would we get there? Where were we now, by the way? I had no idea. I’d better get a map out and study it carefully. Naturally the most circuitous route would be the most desirable so the boys and girl would have a jolly good ride.

We set off on our little adventure promptly at nine and headed in a northerly direction up the B27 to Zeehan. The B27 just out of Strahan is a splendid road with several long straight stretches at the start which jolted us awake, followed by long sweeping curves. Zeehan is a delightful old town with a population of 845 and named after the mountain nearby, which in turn was named by George Bass and Matthew Flinders after Abel Tasman’s brig Zeehaen. Zeehan used to be a silver mining town and an important rail junction with railways from Emu Bay and Strahan meeting there, as well as many timber trams radiating out of the town. There’s not much left nowadays except some nice old buildings. Upon pulling into the sparse petrol station, wondering whether it was in fact open, a bloke wandered up and asked if we would pay with cash or card. I don’t know where he had been hiding, but he seemed to know how everything worked.

After refuelling, we roared off in a westerly direction on the B27 to the Reece Power station. A near encounter with a pademelon (a small wallaby of the genus Thylogale) just out of Zeehan made the nerves jump; and after that many other bushes seemed to start moving as we whizzed along the splendidly curvy road to the power station. After a photo stop with all the bikes lined up near the dam wall in formation – what formation was it mean to be? – we struck off again northwards back towards the Murchison Highway through more hilly country.

On turning left onto the Murchison Highway, we passed a convoy of grey nomads nomading south – someone amongst us counted 18(!) campervans. Wouldn’t it have been fun to have been stuck behind them boys and girl??? After a quick sprint up the highway, we turned left onto the B23 and seven kilometres later found ourselves in Waratah. Apparently the road through here wasn’t completed until 1963. The town came about after discovery of the Mt Bischoff Tin deposit in 1871 and the original mine operated until 1935 and produced over 81,000 tonnes of tin. The mine was re-opened as an open cut mine last year, which would explain the two very butch miners in the shop smelling of explosives. The town today is pretty quiet although pleasant. We found a ramshackle little shop with a coffee machine and proceeded to plunder it of all edible supplies. Across the road was a little park overlooking the Waratah Falls which were previously used for sluicing and processing the ore. With a town that receives 2,182mm of rain per year, it was no surprise it was drizzling as we set off again.

Back over to the A10 and northwards through the Hellyer Gorge the drizzle continued intermittently. What would’ve been a rather dreamy road was not so much fun in the wet and the copious quantities of gravel on many corners didn’t help. After emerging from the heavily forested area, the road opened up on to farmland as we reached the coast at Somerset. After refuelling at Somerset, we continued on the A1 through Burnie and turned off at Sulphur Creek towards Penguin for luncheon.

We knew we were in Penguin – the 3.5 metre fibreglass penguin in the main street was a dead giveaway. Some of us made a beeline for the Groovy Penguin café for a stiff long black and others to a bakery in the vicinity.
After luncheon it was just too bad that it was still drizzling, but all the plucky boys and girl donned wet weather gear and headed off towards Ulverstone. It can be a bit hard knowing which way to go in towns when you’ve never been there before. I quite liked the look of Ulverstone and so, just in case I wanted to come back, I left two people on some corners so I could find my way back. Finally, we found our way back to the highway and motored east towards Devonport – well most of us anyway. After a quick map check, a right turn down onto the C123 took us along a scenic sweeping road with a river on the left hand side, then up over some rolling green hills to Wilmot. Wilmot’s a place worth stopping in apparently, but we didn’t, just wanted to get out of the rain. These roads would’ve been lovely in nice weather as indeed they were when we rode them a few days later.

Most Victorians would welcome a nice moist day, but your perspective is different when you’re on a bike, on twisty roads with a dusting of gravel on the corners – you just want to get where you’re going. After what seemed like an eternity of puddling along these roads, we reached the turnoff up to Cradle Mountain. A few kilometres and cattle grids later, we pulled up into the car park at Cradle Mountain, gloves soaked through, damp feet and damp arms – in my case anyway.

It was a great relief to get into our cabins at the Wilderness Village and turn up the heaters to start drying out our gear.
While our gear was drying by the heater, we all relaxed with lashings of instant coffee with soy milk and plastic wrapped bikkies.


Final Day

by H

After a very chilly 3 degrees overnight at Cradle Mountain all 3 Italian bikes sprang into life without a problem, showing they we eager for our final days ride. I had heard there were some suggestions that after all the rain and cold nights there could be a problem with our Italian electrics but I never had a doubt, although I did make sure the MV fired up well before our take off time!!!

Again for this day I had a couple of plans, plan A was to be a fantastic and long ride taking in some very tight and twisty roads through the high country to Mole Creek, however this plan was put on hold for another ride as the roads were still wet, the temperature rising to just 5 degrees and the crew were suffering a little after much partying the night before. Plan B was to be the option, so we headed straight off the Mountain through Hampshire and Highclere to Somerset on the north coast and on to the now customary Latte stop at Wynyard.

The run to Stanley’s Nut, a sight not to be missed, was the next stage of the adventure. For this run of about 80 kilometers I had something different in store. I jumped off the MV to experience a soft seat, mirrors that showed more than my armpits and suspension that moved when you ride over bumps. I had a Bandit experience. Poor Adz had to make do with the MV for the short 80 ks. I did notice that it didn’t take him long to work out the right hand moves the throttle as he was on my back wheel pretty soon after we left Wynyard.

At Stanley most of the group scrambled up the Nut, while Hosko, Jonas and I decided to get a head start on lunch and of course the Lattes. From Stanley it was back along the main highway towards Devonport, our final departure point, but I just couldn’t end our adventure just yet!!!! Plan C started to kick in.

We said our goodbyes to Kate just off the highway as she had to catch the Friday boat back to Melbourne and we carried on to our next destination, Sheffield. On this ride we retraced some of our early ride to Cradle Mountain, but this time in sunshine and with dry roads. It was a completely different experience to our trip a few days earlier. This trip took us past Barrington Dam, Lower Barrington and Barrington (never found Upper Barrington!!!) and quite close to Anywhere Else and West Kentish. On arriving at Sheffield we all headed in different directions to find the best mural which the town is known for. Having become a true convert to the ways of the Tourers, Rolf was seen wandering around town looking for the Latte and Scone shop we had told him about. The rest of us found Skwiz, an interesting little café, curio shop with many rainbow symbols about the place (curious in itself!!!)

From here it was our last 35 k ride of the whole trip into Devonport to stay overnight for our boat trip home. This went somewhat more slowly as I tried in vain to prolong the inevitable as long as possible. After 10 days of touring around Tasmania we are all sorry to see it end. I’m sure everyone thoroughly enjoyed the whole experience, got to know some newer club members up close and personal, (remember what happens on the Island stays on the Island!!!) experienced some great sights and adventures (some intrepid souls even went on bush walks – I walked all the way to local lodge for a beer!!!) and had all sort of weather from 30 degrees to 3 degrees, glorious sunshine to freezing rain. Overall one of the best trips away that Hosko has ever organised.

An extra big thanks and 3 roots for Hosko from Me.

H

Ride Photos:

Skills

Posted on

28 March 2009

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