A Rest Ashore
While I was away sailing, my wife flew to Hobart. My youngest son, who lives there, kindly collected the parts that had arrived at the dealer. As I mentioned in the previous chapter, I climbed off the boat, replaced the clutch lever—easier than I expected—and set off to join my wife. We were to spend a week catching up with friends and family.
My attempts to replace the push cable failed when I was reminded how difficult it was to remove the fuel tank and realised just how difficult it would be to get down into the middle of the throttle bodies to replace that end of it. I tried, but soon gave up and found a dealer who could squeeze me in at very short notice. Not only did they squeeze me in but, with no prompting, lent me a bike for the day. It was a Hyosung 250 cruiser-style bike and it was not the most exquisite riding experience of my life. However, it worked and let my wife and I get easily to meet some friends. A big thanks to all the guys at Hobart Motorcycles.
By the way, it took them 3 hours to do the job; no way could I have done it in less than 6!
My wife came with me on the CB1100 as we covered a little ground in south-east Tasmania. On the reasonably quiet and interesting roads, it was all good riding.
And, I'm happy to report, in a number of days in the saddle, there were no mishaps.
My wife flew home the day before I was to depart; she is yet to take on the long ride from Tasmania to Brisbane.
As can be seen I got to ride over the bridge over the Denison Canal as well as sail through it.
Day 7: Hobart to Devonport
3 February 2020
I'm lucky, really. I've mates who ride bikes in four states on the Eastern seaboard. Graham, and his mates Stewart and Garret, were all up for a ride to make sure I left their shores. Actually, they weren't prepared to ride all the way to Devonport and back and their plans for a central plateau ride were squashed by threats of unseasonal snow, but we kept company up the east coast and across to Campbell Town.
We met in the historic town of Richmond and then rode to Orford on the east coast of Tasmania before turning north to just north of Swansea. At that point—in the way of motorcyclists the world over—we turned west towards Campbell Town in the middle of the state. Most car drivers would have driven north from Hobart to Campbell Town, but they would have missed the wonderful roads we enjoyed.
Preparing to leave Richmond
About 3 kilometres from Orford, there's a pretty dam, a sharp right hander then a left hander that leads to the final run alongside the Prosser River to the town
I've always liked this stone building on the north shore of the Buxton River
It's not a particularly good photograph, but it is taken approaching Swansea looking east to Schouten Island and the Freycinet Peninsula where we spent time at Bryans Corner on the sailing trip. What took two solid days sailing in the boat took little more than an hour and half on the bike.
This turned out to be a very brief stop as once we all got off our bikes and discovered the Lake Leake Inn, 40 kms up the road, was open and serving lunch, we all climbed aboard again.
Graham's CB500X turns onto the road into the lake
I was taken by this sign.
We enjoyed an honest pub lunch and then rode the short distance for a quick look at the lake before heading on to Campbell Town.
Descending from the plateau towards the midlands. The central highlands can be seen in the distance.
Not long afterwards we parted company at Campbell Town and I took a series of minor roads to Devonport to catch the ferry. Other than leaving Hobart and a kilometre or so in Campbell Town, I spent no time at all on the main highway all day. Bliss.
A big fish in Cressy, Tasmania
Because it was summer time, the Bass Strait ferries are running day and night. It means the evening departure is delayed and it was after 8.00 pm when we finally boarded. Luckily there were other blokes on motorcycles to chat to as we waited.
Boarding the Spirit of Tasmania in Devonport for the overnight trip to Melbourne
In the interests of economy, I elect to share a cabin on the ferry. Sometimes I luck out and have it to myself, but I've never had to share with anyone I found disagreeable. For the first time I shared with another of the bike riders, an interesting ex-motorcycle policeman from South Australia.
