Tasmania 4^th – 14^th March, 2011

Misho Zrakic	Honda CBR1000RR	Cliff Peters	Kawasaki ZX10
Boyd Witzerman	Honda CBR1000RR	Mark Copeland	Kawasaki ZX10
Paul Southwell	Honda CBR1000RR	Dave Ward	Kawasaki ZX6
Ian Payne	Honda CBR1000RR	Rob Langer	KTM 950 SE
Ron Johnston	Honda CBF1000	Marc Marais	Triumph 675 Street Triple
John Willis	Honda Varedero 1000	Julie Johnston	Ford Fiesta
Ben Warden	Honda CBR954RR	Julie Warden	Magna station wagon
Pina Garasi	Honda CBR600RR	Barbara Peters	Holden Commodore
Kurn Bridgeman	Honda CBR600RR		14 bikes, 3 cars, 17 people

Day One, Saturday 5^th March

I survived the boat trip this time: smooth sailing, unlike 2009 where it was rough as guts and I was sick as a dog. Down in the hold waiting for the boat to dock and the door to open, I noticed that my bike was partly covered in salt, even though it was in the middle of the hold.

After getting off the boat and going through quarantine, we parked and waited for the ladies to disembark. I got my chamois and wiped most of the salt off the bike. Unfortunately, there were places that I didn’t clean and I now find the salt has started to corrode various fittings. Not happy.

The ladies arrived and some gear was put in their cars. They went one way and we went the other. The bikes left the docks and headed towards Latrobe following the Mersey River, meandering our way along for some kilometres until we came to a road block. We detoured up a couple of steep roads. Past the barriers, about 100 metres away, I could see an early Saab lying on its side, just short of the Armco. It may have been a fatality; otherwise the road wouldn’t have been closed..

Riding across the top of the hill into the rising sun I came upon Misho parked on the road. I pulled over to see if he needed a hand, only to be confronted by a smashed headlight and fairing. I was speechless, standing there like a stunned mullet, looking at all the damage and wondering what the hell had happened. “I hit a kangaroo”, he said. What a mess! And no ‘roo in sight. Rear rider Pina arrived and consoled him.

I went ahead to let Ben know the cause of the delay. We had travelled only nine kilometres from the boat. Not a good start to your holiday, especially on the first day. A short distance away I came across Marc Marais and John Willis. John went off to let Ben know the situation.

Twenty minutes passed before Mark Copeland arrived. He continued up the hill to see if he could help out, followed by Ben soon after. An hour must have gone by before they came down the hill with Dave Ward in tow. Where’d he come from?

So we rode from Latrobe to Railton and on to Deloraine, getting fuel on the way in. Then off to the local bakery, a popular place with good food and worthy of the visit.

After the break we headed south through Golden Valley and up to the Great Lake on a magnificent motorcycling road until it turned to dirt. The weather was now picture perfect and we had a group photo. Next stop was Mole Creek, only to find the only servo in town was closing as we rode by. We regrouped at the intersection about 150 metres away while someone confirmed the servo was indeed now shut. It was 12 noon Saturday and it definitely was shut.

We would have to go back to Sheffield to get fuel and have lunch. We did so, via Western Creek and Caveside. Brilliant tight and twisty roads with lots of blind crests. The road never goes the way you think it might; lots of surprises!

As we arrived in Sheffield, I spotted a 1942 Ford truck with a Rotary snow plough on it, an ex WW2 vehicle. It was parked with other machinery and buses. I kept going until I got to the corner but decided to go back and take photos; I couldn’t resist. I have only seen that type of vehicle in books and photos, never in the flesh. The truck is powered by a flat head V8, and the snow plough is powered by a 6 cylinder diesel engine mounted on the chassis behind the cab. This engine powers a hydraulic pump to run the plough up front. It has three horizontal augers in an open box, with a vertical chute which takes the snow up and sprays it to the left.

Everyone was at the servo when I got back. After filling up, it was off to find something to eat. There was a nice café across the road which most of us went to. After lunch some of us went for a wander. Cliff made friends with an alpaca, the owner collecting money for… himself.

From Sheffield we continued on to Moina and Cradle Mountain Visitors’ Centre. We went around the barrier and did another 8 kms up to Dove Lake; it was a slow ride in, because you could only do 60 km/h. We followed some of the 22 seater minibuses that took people up to Lake Dove carpark, passing one about three quarters of the way in. It was slow going.

After a group photo it was time to go again. John was sweating about running out of fuel because he didn’t fill up at the previous stop. On the way out, we were stopped by Park employees and asked if we had Park Passes, We didn’t. Can’t imagine why. They took our names and rego numbers and told us that we would have to buy a Pass on the way out, which we did. AND… they were there waiting for us.

Pina and Rob rode through the road block while Dave Ward had a few choice words with them. The cost of the Pass was $16.50. I asked for a group discount but they wouldn’t have any of it. Just pay up.

From Cradle Mountain we headed for Tullah, our first port of call for three nights. After settling in, a few people did the 100 km Plimsoll Road loop picking up Queenstown and Roseberry.

Day Two, Sunday 6^th March

I was looking forward to today’s ride. We met at the General Store/servo at Tullah for a 9 am start. After all the tanks were filled and speeches were done, it was time to go. We headed down the highway to Guilford, from memory. I had to use my heated hand grips as it was just a tad cold on the hands. I thought to myself I need to toughen up.

In Tassie they go to a lot of trouble keeping the roadsides clean. We passed a couple of tractors with slashers mounted on hydraulic arms. Not only did they cut the grass, but they cut the bush back as well, making it look very neat and tidy. The Victorian local councils could certainly learn something. The other good thing about Tassie is that you are not bombarded with hundreds of stupid road signs telling you what to do. They obviously have better things to do with their time and money. A bit of common sense and logic prevails. This makes the riding and driving even more enjoyable.

At Guildford, we hang a left and head towards Savage River. What a lovely, twisty, windy road - up hill and down dale. I passed a few cars. About five km before Savage River they are realigning the road near where the road winds around the lake, just above the water level. The new road is up higher, and they have straightened it out. Maybe they are going to raise the level of the lake.

We stopped at the end of the sealed road and regrouped for a photo shoot. Ben and Julie Warden were in the same photo, a very rare occassion. From Savage River to Corrina is 26 kms of gravel road. It was clean with no dust and a damp base making it easy to ride on, though the first couple of hundred metres was hard on the eyes because it is bright white. It is four years ago since I was on this road and not much has changed. It is an excellent dirt road where you can carry a bit of speed.

At Corinna Ben went and organised a group booking on the Fatman Barge to cross the magnificent Pieman River. Group discount costing $5 each. I had a free coffee and something to eat, and a chat. Some of the boys were playing quoits. Conversations revolved around buying stuff off the Internet, which is certainly worthwhile at the moment with the Australian dollar so strong.

Time to go, and not all of us fit on the barge. Misho and Ian didn’t make it. Someone mentioned to Pina that Misho was left behind. You should have seen the distressed look on her face. They came over on the next trip. There were quite a few tourist vehicles about.

The road on the other side of the river has had more sealing done, so not many kilometres are left unsealed.

We regrouped at the T-junction, heading down to Zeehan. The road is brilliant; low flying material. Zeehan is like a ghost town. Nothing was open. The fantastic bakery we bought food from last time is closed, and for sale. (Would the last person to leave Zeehan please turn the lights out.) The joint looked stuffed; maybe you could buy a cheap house.

A short discussion ensued. Ben lead a group up to the historical Argent Tin mine and ride-through tunnel. Five of us went to Strahan for lunch. We parked across the road from the bakery and I heard someone yelling. Julie and Barbara were having their lunch.

I parked on the right of a foreign Hayabusa and the others parked on the left of it. After taking my riding gear off, I spoke to Misho, before opening up the Gearsack bag. I looked inside and thought this stuff is not mine, Pina must have put a top in here. Next thing I hear someone yelling at me, WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THERE? SHIT…I am in the wrong bag! I had opened up the bag on the Hayabusa. See what happens when you don’t pay attention?

I spoke to the owner and apologised. A simple mistake, but I really need to be more careful.

Halfway through our lunch the others arrived, except Ben and Julie who had gone kayaking on Lake Roseberry back at Tullah.

After lunch we made our way to Queenstown. Dave and Ian enquired about the underground mine tour, while the rest of us hung around the station, watching a steam train leave. Soon, it was time to go again. Some of us were looking forward to getting back to camp to sit back and relax.

Barb and Julie waited for all of us to go first and they would follow. On our way out of Queenstown we had to pass a prime mover with a low loader before we got to the steep hill.

The Plimsoll Way back to Tullah is a fantastic road. What a beaut way to finish the day.

That night Ben and Julie Warden, Rob Langer and John Willis, and Julie and I, went to the pub in Zeehan for tea. Now, for those that didn’t go, you certainly missed out on some good food at fair prices. That finished off the day quite nicely.

To be continued…

Ron Johnston