He cuts down trees, he skips and jumps, he likes to mow down cyclists...
Tasmania 2023, Day 3
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481 words
We slept well last night. Maybe a little too well. We didn’t get packed up and off until late and we rolled into George Town at about 09:30. We visited the post office and mailed ahead 3.9kg of extras to reduce weight from our packs. We stopped at a café and I bought a coffee and found a free copy of Deliverance.
We left George Town and were immediately confronted with lots of logging trucks, all the way to Bridport. Every minute or two I’d spot one in the rearview mirror and call out “Truck! Truck! Truck!” and we’d pull off the road. It was wise: some didn’t even give us an inch, and there was zero shoulder.
We stopped at Pipers River General Store for some South Melbourne dim sims and some Calippos. It was like eating the finest gourmet meal. I guess we just needed the water and the salt! We were We generally get one of two reactions at places we stop: either “Oh wow, you must be pooped, here’s some water and some local tips etc.” or “Make sure your bikes don’t scratch the paint and if you want a drink, go to the toilet!” and then we continued on.
We were between the general store and Pipers Brook when a nice fella from Tassie Tours & Transfers stopped to check on us, due to the heat. We assured him we were OK, and he gave us a huge bag of fresh (and free!) cherries.
We made a slight detour to visit Jansz and Pipers Brook wineries, but when we got there, the cellar doors were not at the front near the road but somewhere around the back of the winery. We couldn’t be fucked riding up and down gravel roads for a glass of wine and a cheese platter, so we quit and had a beautiful picnic on the grass at the front gate. We saw an echidna and watched him waddle across the entrance as we ate the cherries. It was utterly delightful!
At Bridport we stayed at Bridport Holiday Park, an old links golf course. The camp sites were all situated on the former fairways and putting greens, so the grass was wonderfully soft and bouncy. The managers are new, and Flinders Ranges; we know because they told us so at every opportunity!
Danielle was bitten by a swarm of jackjumpers but old mate Phil from the outback was unimpressed: “That’s not a jackjumper! South Australian jackjumpers are as big as Volkswagens!”
We went for a walk on the beach, had Moo Brew Pale Ale and fish and chips, and are now listening to the surf whilst we go to sleep. Oh, and we met about 20 of the local seagulls, including an old warhorse named Scar.
Copyright mmxxiv Ryan Moore. All rights reserved unless otherwise specified.