Tour de Tasmania Days 8 and 9 -- The Big One 600k

I slept early and long, but not deeply, and woke well before my planned 4:15AM alarm on February 24. I ate a very simple jam & toast breakfast (and savored my last individual serving of espresso coffee-in-a-tea-bag). My luggage packed, sunscreen slathered on, bike ready, and I was out in front of our backpacker hostel at 4:50AM ready to go. This is a serious ride, and I prepared in that spirit. It is the big one. ... oh, and not many photos this time. Focus on the goal.

Two climbs to the central highlands, one on each day, and lots and lots of other climbing.
Around 8500 meters of elevation gain overall.

I pull on my brake levers to stop the bike after riding around in the street in front of the hotel, and feel a "thwamp" from the rear wheel and a pulsing sensation through the brake lever. Upon inspection, I have a crack in my rear rim. I point it out to the organizers in the hope someone might just might have a spare rear wheel ... maybe even one with an 11 speed cassette already on it. No such luck. I would just have to ride and hope the wheel holds up. And avoid the rear brake as much as possible. This approach would not be possible in a race or similar event, but in Audax, I think I could make it, safely. I have fresh brake pads on my front wheel's brake, and the weather would be dry the entire ride, so no reason to think otherwise. I am still more worried about getting up the hills than getting down them.

We start this ride in a group as we had leaving Hobart, with one of the faster local riders setting the pace as we take a relatively major road to climb out of Launceston. There is little traffic at 5AM, but it is nonetheless nice to get a start in the group.

Having made it up the first hill together, I hung on to the lead group for awhile, always eager to get a fast start. The pace was a bit stressful, but I manage to at least suck their wheels and hang on. After a half hour or more of this, I feel confident enough to stay in the line with them and work my way up as they rotate. I figure I would get one pull at the front to repay them for their work, then drop off. But I had not counted on James Nitis. James had been the fastest rider in each of the earlier rides, no contest. And he is ahead of me as I work my way toward the front in the rotation. But once he starts his pull the pace accelerates. I am quickly winded and in pain, and I wave another rider past.

Just after Westbury there is a dip down across the river, and a climb up the other side that I remember from our rides toward and away from Deloraine. I relax and let go, knowing that to push hard further and try to stay with the fast boys any longer would risk trouble later in the day. I am still making great time. By 7AM I am already 50 kms into the ride and past our Deloraine lodgings at 300 meters elevation. From 55 to 75km there is even some downhill as we lose most of the elevation gained to Deloraine. 75kms in 3 hours -- a good pace for Audax. I even pass a number of riders from the lead group somewhere ... only notice it when the pass me again. I guess they stopped to remove clothing? Then we get some really nasty hills on a secondary road as we climb again to nearly 300m elevation, and then ride into Sheffield at 87km and the first control for breakfast. I try not to dawdle, but of course, many riders come in while I am eating, pretty much the rest of the group.

From Sheffield we climb up, then plunge down to a river crossing, then climb up the other side of the steep valley. This climb, from 133m to over 700m elevation, takes us onto the central highlands. From here we are "up" and will spend the next three hours between 700 and 900 meters elevation. I make it to the Cradle Mountain Lodge control in good time, order another grilled sandwich "to go", eat half and take half in my rear middle jersey pocket. Mark/Kevin/Catherine arrive, as usual, while I am in the control, and as I head back down from the lodge to the main road I see Rick, Tim Taylor and others coming in.

Looking back at Cradle Mountain after a short, unshaded nasty climb

Near Tullah, denser vegetation in the west

Surely the ride will get easier, now that we have reached our high point for the first day? Unfortunately, no. There is a lot of up and down on the next stretch, and it is getting warm, and the wind is more in front than anywhere else. There is one painful climb over the edge of a bowl, with the reward being a look back at Cradle Mountain. Finally, I see a live echidna just off the road. It must see me as well, since it goes into a defensive spiny crouch. I don't stop for a photo ... regretting it soon after, but not soon enough to go back. Then I make the left turn onto Murchison Highway. 170kms done so far, and heading downhill! Actually, there were soaring descents and then ugly climbs on this stretch. But I could not fully enjoy the descents, fatigue showing, a bit worried about my rear wheel rim (which seemed to be holding up fine), and with just enough trucks on the road to require care and riding when possible on the shoulder.

Finally, between Zeehan and Strahan, we see the western sea. Southern Ocean?

After 10 hours, at 195km, I pull off in Tullah to use a public restroom and get some water. I end up resting, lying on a bench in the shade under a canopy, for 15+ minutes. Time well-spent, but I am away from the road far enough so I do not notice riders passing me. Tara pulls in as I am about to leave. Just after I get going, a few hundred meters up the road, one of the volunteer cars has pulled off and is serving out water by a cafe.  Ahhh, I should have stopped there instead. Anyway, too late now. I push on and, only a few km further, start a 300+m elevation climb on a road with no real shoulders, plenty of mid-afternoon traffic, and a 9-10-11% grade. Ouch. More nasty smaller "bumps", then through the mining town of Roseberry, and, mercifully, a flatter stretch and a tailwind for the final 5-10km into Zeehan. Zeehan looks noticeably more downtrodden than the other towns we have seen. It is isolated, seems home to miners and other workers, or maybe it is just the hot, dusty afternoon or my condition that makes it seem a bit worse for wear.

From Zeehan the route continues south, with a relatively favorable wind and not much up or down, so I get to Strahan by 745PM. Many riders are in the control. From Strahan we need to do an extra 12 km "6km out and 6km back" again, to compensate for another course change that brought the total below 600km. I pass Mark, Catherine and Kevin outbound on their 12km on my way into Strahan and again inbound as I head back out for my 12km. At Fred's and Errol's suggestion, I order dinner before doing the extra 12 km (chicken burger), and my food is waiting when I get back.

Sunset at Macquarie Harbor

I leave Strahan at 840PM, only a few minutes behind Mark, Kevin and Catherine. I snap one photo of the sunset over Macquarie Harbor, and head uphill toward Queenstown and our motel. The road is very dark. No more full moon, no more moon at all until the wee hours, and I seem to be riding through a dense forest now. Over the first hour only a couple vehicles pass, including a public bus. If I had known how dark and deserted this road would be, I might have left with the group, even at the expense of some rest. I finally come out on top of a rise, heading north. Suddenly in an exposed section, a gust of wind hits me and nearly knocks me down. But it is no gust. I push forward slowly, the wind continuing. It only lets up after I turn a corner and get into the lee of a hill.

The rest of the ride to Queenstown is uneventful, though I can only see hints of large mining operations on the hillside to the left -- what appears to be a lighted conveyer or path at a steep angle up a darkened hillside. I roll into the overnight control just after 11PM. 18 hours from the start, 335kms out of 600, and more than half the climbing done. Tomorrow will be 265km. I am "on track" -- anything before midnight was "on track", based upon my rough ride plan.

I shower, change and fall to sleep almost immediately, leaving on the bathroom light for my "roommate", Robert N. from Atlanta, who is at least an hour or two back. I am awake at 3AM, dressed, breakfast, and ready to go by 330AM. I think I saw Robert crossing the room and going to bed sometime around 130 or 2AM, but went back to sleep immediately. He is still asleep when I leave.

Andrew, our organizer, had warned that slower riders should start 3:30 or 4:00AM to be sure of making the 86km to Derwent Bridge by the cutoff time. I could see Errol had started 5 or 10 minutes ahead of me, but I seemed to be the second starter of the morning, with Mark's group probably ten minutes back. Right from the start, we climb 300 meters, then descend, then a long flat stretch along a lake, then another 300 meter climb, another descent, more bumps, and finally 400 meters up to the central highlands again.

Some faster riders pass me on the flat stretch, though I leapfrog two when they stop to put on jackets. It is quite cold here, and some places are noticeably colder than others, only a few degrees C, under 40 F. I have arm and leg warmers, and zip up my thin Audax Japan vest over my jersey. But otherwise, only very thin gloves, a thin headwrap, and double wool socks but no shoe covers. I channel my Wim Hof, and ignore the cold. It is invigorating! It wakes me up! And as soon as my hands start to numb, another climb starts and my entire body warms.

I pass Errol, who is getting water from a stream. Mark et al. have caught up with me, but pull over to join Errol. They pass me soon after. On the last big climb, all the remaining fast riders pass me early, Mark et al. are ahead. Errol is within sight, but also ahead, Tom, Fred and Scott, ahead. I have not seen Tara, nor Tim Taylor, nor Wolfgang, Robert and Brian.

It look as if I will get to the top of the climb around 8:15-8:20AM. According to Andrew, we still have 13km of relatively flat riding, with a few short descents, from there to Derwent Bridge. My brevet card says the cutoff at the control is 8:52AM. The note from Andrew by email a day earlier had said the cutoff is 8:45AM. He said something about the cutoff at our pre-ride briefing, but I do not recall what. Anyway, I want to be there by 8:52AM. I haul ass, pushing up the last km of the climb and then going on a kind of tired time trial. By the time I get within 5km of Derwent Bridge, I can see Mark et al. ahead. I get closer, but am still a couple hundred meters back as I pull into the control at the Hungry Wombat Cafe. I hand over my brevet card at 8:45AM on the dot. Riders continue to come in over the next half hour. It seems the cut-off was 9:15AM or later ... and even that was applied liberally. I will pay later for my exertion.

At the top of the climb I had rounded a corner just as one of the cars with volunteers in it passed me. They swerved into the opposite lane to avoid something ... and then I see it, a very big wombat, lying in the road. The shape reminds one of a hippo, or a large pig. It must have been hit in the last few hours. It lies still, a small trail of blood or fluids running to the side of the road. Very sad. I did not stop.

At the Derwent Bridge control, I am in a long line for breakfast. Not only 10-15 riders ahead in line or waiting for their food, but also locals, and a group of motorcyclists. The staff are overwhelmed. I stay calm and try to be patient. I get my breakfast maybe 35 minutes later, and end up leaving the control after nearly an hour, still wiped out from the effort to make the cut-off. I sit with Catherine, Kevin and Mark in the cafe. Mark warns that we still have the climb to Tarra Leah ahead. He says it is the only climb from his past ride in Tasmania that really stands out in his mind! I file away the information. I still have over 11 hours, with less than 180km to go, I am at 730m elevation, the finish is at sea level, and the last 70 km is very flat. Plus, we should not have headwinds ... maybe even tailwinds. Should be a piece of cake.

It is a lot harder than I had expected. The central highlands have plenty of bumps, the wind is not from our rear but from the side (and later will shift to the front). And it is really hot. To get to Tarra Leah we descend 300 meters, then climb back up 300 meters. At the bottom, I stop and rest on the bench of a picnic table, filling my water bottles at a tap in the restroom. The climb back up is very painful, hot, exposed, and seems to go on and on. After reaching what seems like the lip of the valley, the climb continues. Then we ride a gravel section into town, stop at an (oddly) upscale cafe, and ride more gravel and uphill heading out of town. The next section includes lots of too-steep up and down. By now, I am riding at the back of the pack, with Wolfgang, Rick, and Tim Taylor the only riders I see.

There are lots and lots of steep, painful  climbs, even as we head from 600m elevation down. Downhill I just feather my front brake and try not to go too fast. Still, at least now I am seeing road cyclists across the road! They look as if they are out on day rides from Hobart and environs. Indeed, as we pull into a roadside cafe at Ouse, we are within 100km of central Hobart. Rick, Tim, Wolfgang and I are all there, and we must look like the walking wounded. Rick gets a large bag of ice. I put some of the ice in my bottles with water. He puts ice in his jersey, his bottles, everywhere he can think of. The heat is still miserable, and we go over some "bumps" then a real climb after Hamilton back up to 265m elevation, then down through a dip, up again, and then we go into a 13km gradual downhill.

Ahh. Finally, there is cloud cover, I think I see rain showers off over the mountains to the south, and it gets cooler. I pull ahead of Rick and Tim on the long downhill, but we are back together on the next, final real "bump" -- up 75 meters. Andrew warned me about this when I chatted briefly at the top of the climb after Hamilton as he had pulled over in his car. Indeed, it is short but very steep and nasty 12% for awhile.

As we reach and start to travel down the River Derwent (the same river as early in the day!), we face our strongest headwind since the 300k last week. Only 55k left, flat, headwind, and 3 hours and change in which to complete it. But for the headwind, it would be very easy. Tim and Rick are behind me, Wolfgang is up ahead somewhere, and I am in between. Every so often one or more of us stops briefly or slows and the order changes, but by the time we approach the bicycle path west of MONA, Wolfgang is out of sight ahead, Tim and Rick the same to the rear (I think I see their headlamps, but only once), and I push it home, repeating the route back from MONA of ten days earlier.

The "goal" is at The Whaler, a pub with outdoor seating. Beer is waiting. Cowbells ring and people cheer my name as I roll in with half an hour to spare -- the cheers reflect the camaraderie of a long, shared experience. The evening is a bit of a blur. I remember the beer and burger but the conversation is not so memorable among such an exhausted group. I get back to my hotel, take my bike case (and bike) into the room, but immediately fall asleep.

I wake up early, remove the rim of my rear wheel (it takes awhile since I unscrew the 32 spoke nipples, saving the spokes and of course the hub). I clean carefully and pack the bike and my gear, deposit my luggage/check out, and walk to our closing breakfast at a cafe down on one of the piers.

Everyone is in a good mood. A few of the riders did not make the full 600k, but most of those figured it out on the first day, skipped a long segment, and joined the ride into Hobart from Derwent Bridge onward. Everyone survived. No injuries, no catastrophic mechanical issues (my rim and Scott's seatpost being the most iffy I hear of. I pass around my discarded rim for inspection). I could not be happier with the way things worked out. I've seen a really interesting and beautiful part of the world, made some new friends I hope to see again in coming months and years--in Australia, the USA, Paris, or Japan. And having done these rides, I am fully qualified for Paris-Brest-Paris. Now I can plan my riding and other activities for the year without worrying about that.

Our breakfast is on a pier in Hobart, across from this vessel

Simon M. and I share a taxi to the airport, as we are both on the same flight to Melbourne, as is Wolfgang. He runs a travel business with tours to exotic places like Mongolia and the trans-Siberian railway.

Somehow I manage to sleep in economy class on the flights to Melbourne, then on to Sydney, then on to Haneda. Only the transfer at Sydney is a bit stressful, with a late arrival and a move between terminals. On the Sydney-Tokyo flight I was sleeping even before the meal was served.

Tour de Tasmania - Days 6 and 7 - rest in Launceston

Day 6 was spent quietly sleeping in late after the wee hours arrival from the 400k. In late morning, I made it as far as a nearby supermarket, but not much farther. Our lodgings were a "backpackers" hostel in an old building with high ceilings and spacious rooms, across from a city park.  Some of the surroundings are shown below.

The park

Just down the street from the park

An old row of residences with commercial building on the corner.

More old residential row houses ... one with solar.
(Here the put the solar panels on the north side of the roof!)

The backpackers place was full of photos of Cradle Mountain and Dove Lake ... another iconic scene from Tasmania. You may have seen it if you watched the series "Please Like Me" on Netflix where, as a friend told me, in Season 2 Episode 7, the main character, a gay teen, takes a hiking vacation in Tasmania with his deeply troubled mom. On our 600k ride, we would be going to the Cradle Mountain lodge, only a short distance from the lake, but not get to where these spectacular photos are taken, or see the actual iconic scene. I guess I will need to go back again for that!

A scene even more iconic than Wineglass Bay

On Day 7 many of the TdT riders and staff headed for the Evandale Village Fair and National Penny Farthing bicycle racing championships. A penny farthing is the dangerous bicycle with "direct drive" and a huge front wheel. They are the dangerous "bone crushers" that caused the bicycles we ride to be known first as "safety bicycles".

Would hate to fall of one of those!
(At least they have helmets ...)

Anyway, I decided to stay in Launceston and get a haircut. I ended up going to a hipster place in the middle of the shopping district, on a street otherwise full of outdoor gear shops. Kathmandu, Macpac, and bike shops also!

The barbers were all twenty something, lots of "ink" (tattoes) and bearded, muscular strapping young folk. Their beards were very dense and neatly trimmed -- maybe they are brothers?

A$25, so less than US$18, or JPY2000.
Not quite QB House (1000 yen), but "free beer or nip of liquor with every haircut"

There was a Portland-style food cart in front of the barber shop.
In fact, the whole hipster vibe was very Portland.

A cheesesteak and fries while waiting for the barber.

On the way back to our lodgings, I stopped in at a bottle shop.
They had a "mix and match" discount on four bottles ... so I got four. I recommend Wizard Smith's Ale.

My other main "to do" for the day was to redo the wiring on my hub dynamo light connector. I did so, and it seemed to be working fine. I was relieved that the problem was so easily resolved. Nonetheless, I borrowed Mark Thomas' spare battery powered front light -- far brighter than my small spare Gentos light. Better safe than sorry.

530PM rider briefing before dinner.
Everyone looked as if they planned to take the 600k seriously.

The next day's 600k ride had around 8500 meters of elevation gain. An Audax 600k has a 40 hour time limit. A number of years back someone came up with a special category of "SR600". These are 600km courses with at least 10,000 meters of elevation gain. They are not for group rides, but rather "permanent" courses that can be completed by individuals or small groups who register in advance. When I did the SR600 Fuji, it had a 52 hour time limit and 12,000 meters of elevation gain. Subsequently, all SR600s have shifted to a 60 hour time limit.  A 600km ride with 8500 meters of elevation gain is at the difficult end of the spectrum for non-SR600 rides. And 40 hours is not so much time when you factor in sleep and endless climbs.

Still, I was optimistic after having made it through the earlier rides without difficulty, and feeling as if I was coming into climbing shape.

So we went to bed early.

Tour de Tasmania - Day 5 - 400km around the Northeast

Route for the 400k

5AM, still dark, we mount our bikes and are off! As usual, I go out too fast, staying with or near the front group en route from Deloraine to Westbury, then I am alone. A couple riders pass, but I am still basically alone through Longford, 44 km in and headed to the first control at Epping Forest, 87 km, enjoying what is mostly a tailwind on a relatively flat course, for once! Soon after Longford I pass the entrance of the Brickendon Estate, a "world heritage" listed colonial farm village. I cross the Macquarie River, then go by an entrance to the National Rose Garden/Woolmer Estate. This apparently is the neighborhood for Tasmanian gentry. Big houses with servants and horses for racing, not just ploughing a field or hauling gear.

After Longford, sunrise is close

Just a glorious time of day to be riding ... if you can get out of bed

Eventually I stop to take off a layer of clothes and respond to nature's call. As I am getting back on my bike, Mark/Kevin/Rick/Catherine and several others come by. I join in and try to ride as part of the group for the next 10km or so.

Not a lot of social chit chat, but riding in a group does have its advantages ...

It works relatively well and we make good time until I work my way up to the front and take my pull, Catherine immediately behind me. I get to a slight downhill and, ZOOM, with a tailwind and downhill I accelerate, even though I am just coasting. I looked back and Catherine and the rest of the group are 20, 30, 50 meters back. I brake and reach the flat, and eventually the line comes up to me. It happens again in a few minutes, and again.  Each time we go down a gentle roller I am way off the front. Then as I we top a short upslope and I am about to rotate around and let someone else take the front, everyone pulls off to remove their outer layers ... as I had already done 30 minutes before.  I wait a few minutes, but there is not really any sign of the group restarting. Energy bars are coming out and people are fiddling with gear ... so I continue on alone and arrive at the Epping Forest control somewhat ahead.

On the way to Fingal

More of the same -- just sky and field today

Out of Epping Forest we are on a major road with a lot of traffic, THE main road (highway #1), for 12km, then head east on the A4. The A4 is fast, with less traffic but still paved and graded like a highway for fast travel. Usually I slow WAY down during the second 100km of a brevet, but not today. I've got a tailwind. Errol and one or two others pass, but otherwise I am pretty much alone until Fingal (over 150km into the ride), where I pull over for a toasted sandwich and coffee at a nice cafe where some other riders have stopped. Mark et al. pull in before I leave, a rotating roster of riders eating there no doubt for an hour or more today. I push on to St. Mary's, then over a slight hump and down a curvy descent to the Eastern coastline, emerging near Scamander.

A coastal inlet at Scamander ... beautiful white beaches visible near here. Sorry I did not get a good photo...

There is no more tailwind, but by 1:05PM I have already done 200km. Half the ride in just over 8 hours, including several sit-down food stops. Wow. At this rate, it would only take me 16 hours for the 400km, and the time limit is 27 hours!

But the ride is about to change, pretty dramatically. It is getting hot. And the wind is now from the side, veering to the front. And soon we will be done with the flat and downhill sections. The second half of this ride is a lumpy and bumpy as the first half was smooth. It is already 1:30PM by the time I pull into the St. Helen's Control, 7 km further up the coast. I get another sandwich at a (less nice) cafe in town, and head out.

St. Helens - view from the cafe where I ate.

At the Control, Andrew had told me that we had some rollers out of St. Helens, then the real climb starts in 20+km. In fact, only 2 or 3 km from town there was a 100m climb. THEN there were many ups and downs, including another bump that took us to over 200m elevation, and back down to 100m, before the start of the "real" climb up to elev. 600m. I stopped at a gasoline station and got some chocolate milk to drink, deciding to rest a bit before the climb. It did not work. My stomach got a bit sensitive -- perhaps the cold beverage and sugar? Several riders passed. Mark, Rick, Catherine and Kevin came into the service station, got a snack, and left. I moved to a chair outside that Rick had vacated ... and in a few seconds was stung by a bee on my left upper arm. Ouch. Really ouch. I took an antihistamine (it had been 12+ hours since my "one a day" hay fever pill, so I figured I could handle a second one), and after a few minutes I started the climb.

Fern trees - Tasmanian rain forest. Not like Pacific NW ferns!

More beautiful country

Tim Taylor, who was both the heaviest and most steady rider in the tour, usually bringing up the rear but never in doubt, had passed me while I rested, dealing with the bee sting and stomach. I caught him on the climb, but he passed me as soon as I rested further up the hill. That was a long climb, and I was now at the back of the pack. What a change from two hours ago!

Elevation profile. Nothing higher than 600m, but 4400m climbing in total!

I passed Tim's bike in the hamlet of Weldborough -- he seemed to have gone into a restaurant for some food. This town was part of the way down from the pass. And then there was another long descent. Great to be through that!  But the next 55km to our control at Scottsdale was one hill after another, up, down, dip, soar. There was a lot of steep, nasty short stuff, or so it seemed in my tired condition. 

More nice counry and blue sky!!

Looked a lot more hilly when I was taking this photo!

And more beautiful green and blue

Half way from Weldborough to Scottsdale was the town of Derby. A tiny town, there were two mountain bike stores, bike cafes, MTB tour operators, bike themed restaurants, and more. I even saw a few tourists riding bicycles. But most establishments were closed, at was 630PM already. Tim passed me again as I rested once ... and I passed him on the longest climb of this segment, after Derby, that peaked at 300m elevation.

Derby -- bikes, coffee, culture?

More Derby -- food at the "Crank It" Cafe

By the time I got to Scottsdale it was 830PM, and I did not leave until 910PM. Tara was still in the control so I made some lame joke about Scott having not been there to greet us at Scottsdale. (This did, however, set up further lame jokes about Tarraleah aka "Tara Leah", a town we went through on the 600k). Some "new" volunteers who had joined for the last half of the week, including a couple with another Andrew, the head of the Tasmania Audax group, had cooked us lentil stew and pasta. I needed the rest. The last couple riders came in while I was still in the Scottsdale control, including Tim. 

Sunset, as I near Scottsdale

After Scottsdale, riding in the dark I went slowly, knowing I had lots of time to finish. In the dark, I stopped once and could see small dark animals scurrying across the road. I could hear more in the woods. Possums, I think. A dog barked at me from across a valley -- hundreds of meters away. I got to Piper's River around 10:50PM. With only 50km to go, I thought I should be at the goal by 115 or 130AM. But it took until nearly 2AM. There were more "bumps" and one nasty climb up to a plateau above and to the north of Launceston. And at some point my dynamo light started to flicker again, and eventually shut down -- I just switched on my spare battery light. I would work on the diagnosis the next day. Finally, a fast 5km descent, and a final 5kms or so into town from the North on a main route that fortunately had NO traffic after 1AM. The first 200km had taken 8 hours, the 3rd 100 had taken another 7 hours, and the final 100 had also taken almost 7 hours. A ride of two very different halves.

Still I was happy to finish a 400 km that included 4400 meters of elevation gain in just under 22 hours compared to a 27 hour time limit. I had told myself that as long as I could do the 400km in under 23 hours, at least 4 hours to spare, I would feel it worth a try for the 600km, despite its over 8000 meters of climbing. And with the 300 and 400 done, in beautiful weather, the trip was already a success.

Tour de Tasmania Day 4 - Deloraine

View from the back of our motel on the edge of Deloraine

On the fourth day, we rested in Deloraine, a town Southwest of Launceston on the northern Tasmanian plain, surrounded by farms and grazing land. It was a quiet day.

This was my fifth trip to Australia, but cycling for nine days together with a group of majority Aussies offered me my closest brush with some local features, including Vegemite. Apparently Vegemite is present in 90% of Australian homes. It is a yeast-based spread (a by-product -- waste product -- of beer-making) that is applied to buttered toast and cherished for its rich B vitamins. It is nearly as much a part of Australian life as white short-grain rice or miso soup is a part of Japanese life. Errol spoke of his search to build a collection of bakelite Vegemite containers from the 1950s -- each one with unique imperfections. Vegemite also, to this and most other foreigners, tastes vile. I was told that it should be applied in a very thin sheet over generous butter. I will stick with jam on my toast, not vegemite.

Add caption

After a breakfast that was not quite what I would have wanted on a rest day, most of us headed into town and wandered around a bit in search of good coffee ("flat white" -- Australian for latte with some of the foam scooped off).

The town had a B&B with a cycle theme, with a kind of Cadel Evans mannequin sitting on the porch, and an ancient bike repair shed on the corner of the property.  Also, the town's Empire Hotel occupies a building that at one point was a bicycle factory. The restaurant still bears the name Cycles.

Cycling theme B&B. The "Cadel Evans" mannequin is obscured by one of the pillars on the porch ...
Tin-roofed bicycle repair shed in the foreground.

Delicious, satisfying meal here in the evening.

I needed a haircut ... will need to deal with in Launceston

The most famous resident of Deloraine and environs in its history? Malua! No, not the village on the Samoan island, and not the Dutch DJ, but the horse. Apparently Malua is the most famous horse in Australian history. Not the fastest, but the most famous. Kind of a Seabiscuit, a horse that won some major events and struck the public imagination. The Eddy Merckx of Australian horses.

There was a park at the bottom of the hill along the River Meander (which did meander through the town and the fields up and down the Meander Valley). Errol mentioned that a platypus was in residence, and Pauline and I joined to walk along the river bank a bit and see if it would show itself. I asked two local women who were sitting near the river if they could offer any guidance. One said that great patience was required, and that we were there at the wrong time of day. She had lived in the town for more than 40 years and only seen a platypus in the river twice, and that we were there at the wrong time of day in any event. Oh well. All the more remarkable that Fred seems to have actually photographed one, perhaps this one! The lack-of-platypus reminded me of my last visit to look at one, last year at Fitzroy Falls en route from Kiama Beach to Canberra. Nice platypus habitat. No platypus. We did at least see some turbo chooks (nativehens -- a local flightless bird) and very prickly vegetation. Many things here in Tasmania are different.

Turbo chooks.

Very prickly

These would grab clothes or slice skin. The bush is not so friendly ...

A quick walk through the local historical society/museum gave some sense of the life of a Tasmanian settler. Life must have been hard - farming, or trapping animals.

But they did have nice wooden Jimmy Possum style chairs for a rest at the end of the day.

Jimmy Possum chairs

A quiet afternoon, a dinner with some of the riders I had not yet gotten to know (Simon Maddison from Melbourne, Tim Jones, one of the Tasmania based riders, Warren Page, and several others), and an early bedtime to prepare for the 5AM start.

Lavender being pollinated by bees at the back of the historical society/museum

That night, I dreamt of Malua. According to Epic Ride Weather, we would ride with a tailwind in the morning ... perhaps as fast as the great horse?

Tour de Tasmania Day 3 -- 300km from Freycinet Peninsula to Deloraine via Beaconsfield

I had a good feeling at the beginning of the 300k ride. I had been exhausted on the 200k, accumulated jet lag from the Portland-Tokyo-Sydney-Hobart economy class trip with a whirlwind 48 hours in Tokyo and afternoon of bodysurfing and eating near Sydney. But completion of one ride, and two more nights of good rest, with beautiful cool, clear weather, had me eager to ride.

Also, the 200k was, for me, a kind of "warm up".  I had already done a 200k in January, and main goal for me this week was to qualify for PBP, or at least get as many as possible of the 300, 400 and 600k rides done. I knew the 600k would be very hard, but if I could complete the 300k and 400k rides, I would consider the trip a success.

The day before, Mark Thomas of Seattle showed some of us an iPhone app called "Epic Ride Weather". If you link it to your ridewithgps.com route, input your anticipated overall speed (including rest stops), and your start time, you get a chart of temperature, precipitation forecast, the elevation profile, and most important, a map with wind arrows showing the likely strength and direction of the wind for your entire ride. This app was extremely helpful during the rest of the Tasmania trip -- in giving me the courage to leave in my drop bag gear like rain pants and my coldest weather clothes, as totally unnecessary. Before sleeping, I checked the app and confirmed we would expect dry weather, hot in the afternoon, with relatively stiff headwinds during the 100k+ stretch heading near due west the first half of the ride.

One of the Aussie riders had this amusing reflective vest ... designed with its check pattern to fool
a casual glancing driver into thinking it is a "police" vest. No, just a "polite" vest.

And plenty reflective.

At 4:50AM (on schedule!), I was the first of the riders to show up at the pre-ride briefing for the 5AM start. We started a few minutes after 5, and I followed the "fast group" as we headed out back up the peninsula. I lost the back of the lead group after 5kms or a bit more, and was alone. My dynamo light flickered -- maybe a loose connector -- and I stopped to adjust it. I expected the next group of riders to catch me, but I could still barely see their headlights to the rear as I started back up and got to speed. The light still flickered once in awhile, but the surroundings were getting a bit lighter anyway, and it was a wide open road with no traffic.

My last view of Freycinet Peninsula. Glorious in the dawn pre-sunrise, with a vineyard in the foreground.

I was still alone when I turned left and onto the main Tasman highway (A3).

I was still alone as I climbed the north side of "Cherry Tree Hill" (still no cherry tree in evidence). I stopped to take a photo of a spectacular vista at dawn, and could see a few lights of cycles behind me starting the climb, at least 4-5 minutes back. Again, I was starting too fast. ... but no reason to slow down descending the other side of the hill, and the wind was not noticeable as I pushed on, all the way to the right turn off the main highway and onto Lake Leake road.

Lots of bumps in the flat sections that don't show up on a 300k profile.
My Wahoo GPS showed 3500m of elev gain; actual was around 3200-3300m.

As I stopped for an energy bar and a photo, I was still alone.  I was looking straight at the long climb from sea level up to 600 meters elevation, and it was barely visible, the hill was so broad and the climb so steady and gradual. Now surely I would be going straight into the wind and begin to suffer.

That is a climb from sea level to 600m elevation ahead ... though you wouldn't know it!

But soon the trees and the gradual slope blocked the wind -- it was not noticeable during the climb. I passed Scott on the climb -- he had pulled off and was struggling with his seat post clamp (later fixed at the Control temporarily with zipties and then replaced in Launceston). I kept expecting others to pass me. I must have been climbing well since I stayed alone pretty much all the way to the control at Lake Leake. Wow. Done with the big climb. Others, including the Mark/Catherine/Rick/Kevin posse rolled into the control before I left, but I was way ahead of my plan and further ahead the time cutoffs, despite having made the big climb and ridden a nice chunk of the "upwind" section, so could relax a bit.

Glorious eucalyptus forest under blue skies after the Lake Leake control.

On the next stretch, I rode with Fred some, though he is a lot faster uphill and in general, and with my weight I am faster downhill into a headwind, so it was not easy to stay together. In the end he went ahead as I fell back on a short climb, and he stayed ahead but within view after we descended to Campbell Town, where there was a cafe, and we joined others who were pulled over and eating (or in line to order).

Near Campbell Town

I left the cafe relatively quickly and turned toward Cressy. The next stretch was a long hard slog into the wind, but quite scenic with rolling fields, a few rivers even, and little traffic.

Eventually I slowed to a crawl in the headwind. Soon Tom (a government economist in Canberra and PBP veteran ... my roommate in Deloraine) and Fred pulled up. Tom suggested I work with them, which I did for the next 30-40km of the ride nearly to Cressy.

After another stop in Cressy, I ended up with Fred and Errol heading north toward Longfort and down the hill into Launceston. I wanted to call it "Lance - town" (hey, it has a bunch of bike shops, and the Velo Vineyard is just out of town 10kms or so to the NW), but the locals tell me it is pronounced "Lon-Chess-Ton", and I got a somewhat chilly reaction when I voiced my "Lance-Town" idea. I guess Lance is still a dirty word in cycling circles.

After a rest on a grassy triangle of park (at my insistence), we headed out of town to the NW on a major road, the A7. It was after-school rush hour, with lots and lots of cars, and massive private tour buses that were serving as school buses. The buses were particularly rude. One pulled out in front of me forcing me to slam on my brakes. Others roared by. But before long, at Exeter, we left the A7 for a much quieter road along the beautiful inlet that runs from the coast all the way to Launceston. We stopped at a hotel / bar for something cold (and non-alcoholic) to drink. Tom had rejoined, then Pauline arrived. After we departed, Tom and Fred went ahead, and I rode with Errol and Pauline. Soon my stomach acted up a bit, and we stopped to rest again and enjoy the view. It was a lovely afternoon ... but miles to go before we could sleep.

Looking back toward Launceston

Pauline rests -- trying her first 300km ride ever

Errol, the veteran rider, had committed to see that Pauline made it to the finish

We finally turned away from the inlet and soon were at the Beaconsfield control. Tom and others were already there. Tom had ordered a pizza from the place up the road. I followed suit. Tom's arrived and he shared it generously. I got two pieces of the large pie. So when mine (small, olives & cheese) arrived, I could also share it generously. Mark's posse had arrived. The vegans were especially happy, as they Tom's had been a tropical - bacon and pineapple - pie. The food was a godsend. Scott and Tara pulled in -- they had fallen back with Scott's detour to four bike shops to get a seat post replacement in Launceston.

Beaconsfield control - Tom, Fred, Rick, Catherine, and my feet

Andrew warned us that there were hills ahead. Deloraine was not more than 200-300 meters elevation. But Andrew warned us that we had at least 600 meters of climbing to go - up, up, up, down, up, down, up ... over the remaining 65km. My Wahoo ride track showed nearly 1000 meters climbing on this stretch.

But it was a glorious last stretch.

It was 7PM or so, and the deadline was 1AM. Even going slowly we could finish easily in 3 or 4 hours, with 2 or 3 to spare. There was no reason to hurry. I let others go ahead and decided that I would take it easy, already trying my best ... after the top of the first hill, to make it a "recovery ride" with a view to the 400k two days later. The sun was low in the sky, the countryside was beautiful, the grazing animals looked happy and well-fed. The farms looked prosperous. This reminded me of dusk some dusk rides in Japan through comfortable farmland nestled in the hills -- satoyama - with bubbling streams and lights beckoning from farmhouse windows. Scott zoomed by, and after a few more steep "dips", he was gone.

I caught up Mark as he rode back up a seep hill to get a photo of some scarecrow-like figures perched on equipment at the entrance to a farm. He lent me his lockring wrench so I could firmly tighten my couplers, one of which had come loose. He was quickly far ahead, rejoining his posse.

Mark's group of four just ahead, and Pauline, Errol and Fred at the near the top of this little 10% rise.

Looking back toward Beaconsfield

The moon creeps over the horizon.

Brilliant landscape lit by the moon.

Haunting moonscape.

I passed Errol, Fred and Pauline, who were pulled over at a restroom and adding clothing. I could see Mark's group ahead, but could not approach them. Soon Fred again passed by me. Errol was sticking back with Pauline, who had said she is not comfortable riding alone at night (and had never ridden further than 200km before).

As I made a right turn onto Birralee Road, Andrew was parked on the shoulder watching over us. I pulled up and knocked on his car window. "Thank you!", I said. "What a wonderful route! And riding in the early evening cool and quiet, in this environment ... it just doesn't get any better than this!!!"

From here, the ups and downs were much more gradual.  Shortly before entering Deloraine Tara zoomed by. I could not keep up, and she disappeared up the street ahead. ... I remembered that our lodgings were at the far end of town, out of town, from our pre-ride briefing.

After checking in and a quick shower, I headed over the the restaurant for dinner, a beer, and a banana split reward.