Television came to Tasmania in 2013 and I was there to witness it on my 1967 Royal Enfield Interceptor
A band called Television (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Television_%28band%29) was playing at Mona (http://www.mona.net.au/) in Hobart Tasmania, on November 1st 2013. I used to listen to Television as a kid in the late 70's and never thought I would have the opportunity to ever see them. So a trip to Hobart was necessary and given I had to go to Tassie it seemed logical that the trip to Hobart should be made on 2 wheels and it should involve a tour of the Apple Isle.
Naturally I put out a call to interested club members to join me in a ride around Tasmania. I was overwhelmed by the response and I had to limit the numbers on the ride to 2. I wanted to ride around Tas on my Interceptor and reprise the 2011 AGM ride I had a couple years ago. I had just completed a top end rebuild (with the help of Norm) and was still running the Interceptor in. Norm and I changed the rear wheel bearings and I completed an oil change just before heading off to the Spirit of Tasmania in Port Melbourne on the afternoon of the 29th of October. I got to the dock around 5.30pm and caught up with my group of traveller, Darrell on his 1968 Triumph Trophy (a beautiful Sheriff rebuild Rideaway Motorcycles) that Darrell's dad had bought new back in the day.
Darrell and I joined the queue to get our motorcycles on board, and after a minor booking reshuffle (I had booked Devonport to Melbourne on the 29th and Melbourne to Devonport on the return on the 5th of November - DOH!!) we had our motorcycles secured on the transport deck and we had located ourselves at a bar. An uneventful crossing, and a 6am rise and we were on our motorcycles by 7am. It took me a number kicks to get the Interceptor going and fortunately for everyone else it didn't smoke too much. Darrell and I rode out and headed west to Ulverstone to Trevor's place for breakfast, a RECOAInc Club member. After a wonderful breakfast courtesy of Sue (thanks Sue!) we checked out Trevor's variety of toys. First on the list was Trevor's beautiful Super Constellation that he had imported from the US earlier in the year, of course Trevor showed us his Taurus, a number of other machines and Trevor's new acquisition a 1953 500 twin.
We got on the road around 10am and Trevor took us on some delightful roads from Ulverstone to Sheffield, where we stopped for a cuppa before Trevor took us to along Claude Road (C136) to Cradle Mountain Road (C132) our strip of bitumen to the west. We rode past the spectacular Mount Roland, almost a 400m sheer rise from the surrounding forest. Along some very nice winding roads until we got to C132. At this junction Trevor left us to our own devices, he turned right and we turned left. We slowly climbed as we wound toward the alpine plains north of Cradle Mountain, our motorcycles were flying along although I noticed my clutch slipping a little when on an incline trying to pull the throttle on when my speed was below 90kph - unfortunately for me it would be a common theme for the next week, a true reprise of my previous tour. What had started off as a lovely crisp sunny day was quickly becoming overcast and cooling fairly quickly. At a place called Middlesex we pulled off the road and donned our wet weather gear as the clouds had become very dark up ahead. A truck driver travelling in the opposite direction pulled over to see if we were ok, he told us about a number of road works on the Murchison Hwy (A10 the west coast road) and the roads may be greasy, what a nice bloke! With our extra layers on, we pushed on in to what looked like pretty nasty weather, the further west we rode the more the clouds closed in and heavy drizzle was falling steadily then the cloud lifted a little and the precipitation eased. We climbed a ridge and then the road gradually descended to the Murchison Hwy intersection.
Showers came and went as we rode to Tullah, we struck a couple of the road works sites and there was plenty of wet dirt on the road that we had to carefully negotiate. The ride was tricky given the conditions. We stopped at the pub in Tullah and the publican, seeing I was on a Royal Enfield, proceeded to tell us about a group of Royal Enfield riders who passed through a couple of years ago and they were travelling with their own mechanic, I think he was referring to Norm I had to laugh about that. The fire was warm and we were able to dry our gear, Darrell was having some problems with his gloves. Some food and a hot drink and we were ready to roll again. I had to oil up, I was going through a fair amount about, 2-300ml per 100kms. Darrell's motorcycle was performing seamlessly. Farewell to the pub in Tullah, they are nice folks there, and on to Roseberry about 15kms down the road for petrol. A few more showers and getting caught behind some traffic in the hills, getting by a truck that indicated for us to pass however the car in front of us was not aware of the etiquette in Tas (bloody Victorian tourist), so we overtook them all. This road would be great in better weather as it was we had to be reasonable careful particularly the tight downhill turns on wet roads. A quick stop for fuel at Roseberry and then on to Strahan. The weather had lifted and the showers had eased right off. The road from Roseberry was great, there has a small range that we had to cross which had some nice tight corners and then the road eased lots of sweeping curves. In to Strahan by around 4pm, we were staying at a backpackers for $35 a night. The accom was good, warm and dry. We had a few beers at the pub while watching a fishing boat pull in to the dock and seeing 4 or 5 frozen kangaroos thrown on to the dock from the boat then watched as the frozen carcasses were hauled away by the crew, to where I don't know, it was kind of surreal.
Showers came and went as we rode to Tullah, we struck a couple of the road works sites and there was plenty of wet dirt on the road that we had to carefully negotiate. The ride was tricky given the conditions. We stopped at the pub in Tullah and the publican, seeing I was on a Royal Enfield, proceeded to tell us about a group of Royal Enfield riders who passed through a couple of years ago and they were travelling with their own mechanic, I think he was referring to Norm I had to laugh about that. The fire was warm and we were able to dry our gear, Darrell was having some problems with his gloves. Some food and a hot drink and we were ready to roll again. I had to oil up, I was going through a fair amount about, 2-300ml per 100kms. Darrell's motorcycle was performing seamlessly. Farewell to the pub in Tullah, they are nice folks there, and on to Roseberry about 15kms down the road for petrol. A few more showers and getting caught behind some traffic in the hills, getting by a truck that indicated for us to pass however the car in front of us was not aware of the etiquette in Tas (bloody Victorian tourist), so we overtook them all. This road would be great in better weather as it was we had to be reasonable careful particularly the tight downhill turns on wet roads. A quick stop for fuel at Roseberry and then on to Strahan. The weather had lifted and the showers had eased right off. The road from Roseberry was great, there has a small range that we had to cross which had some nice tight corners and then the road eased lots of sweeping curves. In to Strahan by around 4pm, we were staying at a backpackers for $35 a night. The accom was good, warm and dry. We had a few beers at the pub while watching a fishing boat pull in to the dock and seeing 4 or 5 frozen kangaroos thrown on to the dock from the boat then watched as the frozen carcasses were hauled away by the crew, to where I don't know, it was kind of surreal.
We met a couple from Queensland travelling around on their touring road bikes, they were heading off to Queenstown which was our next destination for breakfast. Oiling up and on the road towards Queenstown, the clouds were still low but no showers and the road was dry. We had a sublime ride to Queenstown many lovely bends, tight corners and the superb sweepers. A change in vegetation marked our approach to Queenstown, fewer trees and low scrub and bare land identified the once scarred landscape from the impact of mining. We saw out Queensland friends at a cafe and so decided to join them for our breakfast, and what a great breakfast. The couple were going to mines museum and Darrell and I said our farewells, fuelled up and took to road again.
The climb out of Queenstown is a great ride and better going up than coming down no doubt. As we crested the summit of the range we could see low clouds further to the east looking highly precipitate. We road on over taking one solitary car, the ride was cool but I was warm enough, with numerous layers on. The ride from Queenstown on the Lyell Hwy is fantastic, some challenging corners lots of long bends to power through, my clutch was struggling in places but largely it didn't impact greatly on the enjoyment of the ride. There was still snow on some of the surrounding hills, fortunately what I thought were impending showers didn't eventuate. Our great motorcycles powered on only impeded on occasion by slower moving cars, nearly all allowing us to pass freely. We stopped for fuel at Derwent Bridge and I added oil, things had warmed up a little and I expected the weather to improve so I removed my outer rain jacket. The road from Derwent Bridge to Hobart does not have quite the same amount of excitement that the morning had had, but there are highlights. For example, opening up the throttle on the A10 and enjoying the long sweeping bends as the forest and bush gives way to grazing land for the first time; the ride in to and out of the Nive River gorge where the hydro power station is, glorious tight twisting bends then powering on out of corners. Eventually the forest recedes and is gone forever, the rolling hills of farmland spreads before us in its verdant panorama and the road sweeps through the hills that our motorcycles follow, the bitumen our calling. We stopped at Hamilton for a late lunch and oil, then continued on in to Hobart. Inexorably, we accumulated cars the closer we got to Hobart. In to the centre of Hobart and then frantically trying to find a fuel which once done, we made our way to the Winston Ale House (Eagle Hawk Inn) on the corner of Elizabeth and Federal Street to meet up with Aidan.
After a few beers at the pub and walking back to our motorcycles, there was a rather large pool under mine. Kicked and started we rode to Aidan's place where I was under instructions not to enter until Aidan was able to position some ply wood for me to park on. Finally unpacked and the lovely Emma (Aidan's partner) having made some beds for Darrell and I in their shed cum rehearsal room, it was nice and cozy. More beers and a some Dalwhinnie, which I had a hip flask of and then dinner and bed, it had been a big day. The next day Darrell and I rode in to the city to check out a leather shop for some straps for Darrell's saddlebags, he had broken a strap (you can see it in the photo above). We cruised in to town rumbling through the very pleasant streets of Hobart and parked outside the leather shop in down town Elizabeth Street. They had everything Darrell needed except he hadn't brought the broken strap and we were both unsure about the width he required for the replacement strap. Back to Aidan's for lunch and I changed the oil in Aidan's Bullet, then Darrell and I went to Supacheap (super rip off, some chain oil I had bought in Queenstown was cheaper there than Suparipoff) to get a few supplies, no need to guess what I had to buy. Back down to Elizabeth Street to get the right strap and then a cruise around Salamanca, very picturesque.
Back to Aidan's and a shower and shave to get ready for Television at Mona. Some mates of Aidan had come around and they were going to take Darrell out to see some bands at the Winston. So around 6.30pm Aidan, Emma, myself and 2 others headed off to Mona, we were all pretty excited. The venue was fantastic and added to the sense of occasion with its extraordinary stylish design and superb location. The band was magnificent, sublime, I can not do any justice to describing how good they were, but may be Karl Quinn of The Age can. We managed to get back to the Winston at an early hour and found Darrell completely plastered, I had to pack him off in a cab back to Aidan's. I kicked on with Aidan and probably drank more than I should, fortunately Emma picked us up before things got completely messy.
Darrell and I were a bit shabby the next day and went out for a cooked breaky about 10am, we found a very nice cafe nearby and ate like kings. We were sitting at the front by the window and noticed some bloke giving the Interceptor a very close inspection. This fella then came inside the cafe and it didn't take him long to locate us. It turned out that he owns a MK1A Interceptor as well, except he mistook mine for a MK2 as mine has the MK2 front fork setup and the dial on top of each fork. Anyway we had a good chat, I think his name was Roger, I didn't get his surname which was stupid but my brain wasn't quite functioning as well as it should. I was meant to catch up with some Melbourne mates at a restaurant in Woodbridge called Peppermint Bay, fortunately they were having a slow start for the day as well and they weren't planning to get to the restaurant until 2ish. Aidan was up for the ride and organised to meet his mate Chonga at Marget who rides one of the newer Triumph scramblers. Darrell, Aidan and myself got going about 1pm,we had to head south through the Hobart CBD and then on to the Southern Outlet, Aidan on his 500 would blow us away, while we had the bigger motors and higher speeds his pick up was better than ours, and he always beat us off the lights. As we thumped out of the city again we were on to the fabulous country roads of Tasmania. Being in the country has its complications, and unfortunately I didn't have any antihistamine pills and my eyes had puffed up and looked like a puffer fish, hayfever in Australia can be diabolical. We met with Chonga and rode on to Peppermint Bay, and by the time we got there I was in some discomfort, none of the chemists we had stopped at were open. To my great fortune, one of my Melbourne mates had some antihistamine drops which relieved my symptoms although it took a while before my eyes returned to normal. I ordered a 'Pough Boy Oyster Sandwich' which almost defies description other than YUM. After lunch Aidan gave one of my mates a quick dink around as she hadn't ridden a motorcycle before, and discovered a new motorcycle chick!! The ride back was fun and better for me as my hayfever had all but gone, we swept through bends powered over hills geared down in to tight corners and then opened the throttle to regain the freedom of speed. Chonga split and the three of us cruised back to Aidan's place. A few more beers and a magnificent rabbit stew and I was ready to hit the sack.
Sunday morning, we packed up our gear as Darrell and I were heading to Port Arthur. The weather looked a bit ordinary, with a few showers pushing through. The forecast said snow to 600m!! About 10.30 we rode down to Salamanca to meet with the vintage motorcycle riders who meet there every Sunday. There was a nice collection of English stuff from the mid 50's onwards, some Italian stuff, and some older Jap stuff and the obligatory HD, a nice older pan head though. We had a good chat with some of the other fellas, it rained fairly heavily at one point so we left standing around our motorcycles for standing around inside a cafe. Back to Aidan's to load up and say our farewells.
The weather had worsened, the wind had really picked up and showers were scudding through in rapid succession. Our plan was to ride to Port Arthur and go in to the old penal colony (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Port_Arthur,_Tasmania and http://www.portarthur.org.au/file.aspx?id=5666) and then ride to our digs at White Beach on the western side of the Tasman Peninsula. Riding out the Tasman Highway over Pitt Water towards Sorrell, the weather had eased a little. We fuelled up in Sorrell and then turned east on to Arthur Way. Again the weather worsened, the winds really began to howl, rain came down heavily and riding was difficult. Just past Dunalley the wind was having a real impact on riding, so much so that Darrell was nearly pushed off the road. He stopped and was a bit shell shocked by the strength of the wind. After a few minutes we pushed on and as we moved further away from the coast and was a bit more protected by the land riding became easier. This was a really nice road that we were on, shame about the weather. At times we had to avoid fallen branches and not insignificant either. We finally arrived at Port Arthur, and while we were hungry we had no appetite to join the other sightseers, so we had a toasted sandwich instead.
We suited up against the clime and continued on to the B&B at White Beach on Wedge Bay, near Nubeena. Darrell had to contend with more extreme weather, however this negotiated we pulled in to the rather pleasant shack that was going to provide us shelter from the storm. We did not have cover for our motorcycles but we were able to at least put them in the lea of our bungalow. We had a very pleasant dinner chatting to a couple from Burnie. Watched a movie then went to bed, I had to turn the electric blanket on it was that cold. Had a cooked breakfast the next day, oiled up and rode north.
The weather had improved significantly and while it was still pretty cool the wind had subsided and there was still the odd shower about. The roads were largely dry and we had a good ride back to Sorrell. Once past Sorrell the weather continued to improve, the road provided easy riding as we wound our way north and east.
The ride in to Oxford was very good, particularly sweeping along the Prosser River. I needed fuel and we stopped at a roadhouse the other side of Oxford, however they did not sell 95 octane. I asked if there was any nearby and they suggested a few kms down the road at Triabunna, 2 servos there and none sold 95. I turned around to head back 1st servo at Triabunna and saw a petrol sign pointing in to the town so we turned left off the highway and rode in to town and found the petrol station in town sold 95, hallelujah. Filled up and bought some oil, we got speaking to the proprietor and he told us about a mens shed down the road where they were fixing up old boats and that we should go and have a look and so we did. The folk at the shed, both men and women, were delighted to see us and made us very welcome. They made Darrell a coffee and offered us biscuits and showed us around their many projects finished an unfinished. After a good chat and some chunk of time we bid our farewell to continue our journey.
The day had improved significantly, the sun was shining and the wind all but stopped. Some way out of Triabunna, we pulled over and swapped motorcycles to ride. Darrell's gearbox was different to mine with 1 down and 3 up, however his motorcycle was great to ride, except for his handlebars being low. After riding around 15kms I pulled over and swapped back again as my back was starting to hurt, the handlebars were just too low for me. Anyway Sheriff had done a great job on that motorcycle it ran like a dream. Riding north to Bicheno was fantastic, with the Freycinet Peninsula providing spectacular views as we rode along. We arrived in Bicheno just before 4pm and called in at the museum, not much had changed from when I was there a couple of years ago but it was worth the entry fee (no discount for Club members though). We checked in to the backpackers and dropped our gear off. There was still plenty of daylight left so we decided to ride to Coles Bay. Heading south out of Bicheno you come to the Coles Bay Road after around 5kms, we turned left and rode on again, very pleasant riding. Perhaps half way to Coles Bay, I could see something on the road ahead - it was a bloody wallaby. Brakes, braking hard, I had no intention of riding past the creature. Just as I came to a stop it eased itself off the road back on to the verge and then in to the undergrowth. Man that put the hebejebes up me, I rode a lot more carefully from that point on mostly sitting on 80kph for the rest of the way to Coles Bay and keeping a very watchful eye out for bounders. Coles Bay is really quite beautiful, gorgeous beach and view across to the rugged Freycinet Peninsula. Riding carefully back to Bicheno, we went to the pub for dinner then hit the sack.
Tuesday the 5th of November our last day in Tassie. Today would probably be the longest day for riding around 340km. We decided to ride to St Helens for breakfast, however it took me 25 or 30 kicks before I could get the Interceptor going, my carbs were in dire need of an overhaul. I would probably be starving by the time we got to St Helens after that work out. The ride to St Helens was lovely, a beautiful slightly overcast day riding along the coast winding our way north. We got to St Helens by 10am and stopped at a cafe for breakfast. After eating I called Trevor for Barrie's telephone number I hoped he might be up for a visit. I rang and got no answer so I decided to drop in just in case they were outside unable to get to the phone. We pulled up at his place and his wife Joan was outside and so we opened the gate and walked up the drive and introduced ourselves. Joan informed us that Barrie wasn't too well, he had some hernias which left him debilitated and in a lot of pain. Joan ducked inside to see if Barrie would see us and thankfully he would. We had a great chat with Barrie about all sorts of things and after a cuppa and some cheese and biccies we wished him well and said goodbye. Of course he had given us permission to poke in to his shed. Barrie had taken the tank off his Meteor as a petrol leak had peeled the paint off part of the tank and he was in the process of trying to clean it up. Barrie also has a very nice Big Head Bullet and a Norton 7.
More fuel and oil and then we were off heading on to one of the best roads in Tasmania: the ride from St Helens to Scottsdale. The clouds had lifted and it was now a gorgeous sunny day, and we cracked on. This was beautiful country riding, lots of bends some tighter some broad and gentle all splendid. As you approach various hilly ranges the road tightens up and gear changes are necessary to maintain the requisite power yielding to excitement as you wheel from one turn to the next then as that range has been negotiated a valley of sweet farmland unfolds with the bitumen vein snaking through it beckons you on with hints of further delights as another range approaches. Some ranges are higher than others and require a more concentrated negotiation, all a sheer delight. This pattern continues and as you go with it a smile of contentment, of pure joy, slowly inculcates your being and before you realise you are in the moment which seems to go forever. More bends, twists, turns, up hill and down, through forest and farmland, gum, beech, fern and grass. There aren't many cars on the road, although we do have to contend with some road works which simply provide pauses allowing you to take in where you have just ridden. We stop at Scottsdale and I call Tassie Bob in Launceston to arrange a visit. An older fella comes up to Darrell and I to admire our motorcycles and tell us of his tales on them in years gone by. After Scottsdale there are some super tight exhilarating bends that proceed to climb up a reasonably significant range. My motorcycle is cranked right over, having to drop back to first in some places, the incline is that steep and the corners that tight. Through the shade of the forest on to the top of the range and then down the other side, we seem to be riding like madmen but all we are really doing is riding as one with our machines. The tight corners coming down off this range were demanding, care was required to not cut corners too much (log trucks still use this road) but also stay clear of any gravel on the bitumen. The road finally conquered gives up its demand of us as we cruise towards Launceston. With only minor difficulty in navigation we make it to Bob's place where we sit a chat for a bit. We have to be at Devonport by 6pm and so we leave Launceston at 4.30pm. I realise that I need petrol once we are on the Bass Highway, so I pull off on to the Meander Valley Highway and the first place I stop at doesn't have 95 octane. I ask someone where we might get some and was told to ride to Carrick, which we did and found a servo there with the fuel we wanted. When I went in to pay the fellow at the counter asked about our motorcycles and then told us of a number of collections nearby. We agree that next time we are in Tas to drop in with time on our hands to look at these collections.
Back on the road following the Meander Valley Highway until we find an entry back on to the Bass Highway, I am now conscious of time and we need to get a move on. About 3 or 4km further down the road my muffler falls off, about 60km from Devonport. Darrell is riding behind me and does well to avoid hitting it, I can see in my mirror the muffler spinning around on the road as a prime mover swerves to avoid squashing it, thank the heavens. I pull over then turn around and go back, I get off my motorcycle and carefully pick up the muffler, it is pretty hot and covered in oil. Darrell comes back to join me. After a bit of discussion Darrell walks down the road to try to find the bolt that had loosened and fallen out from the bracket holding the muffler on the rear frame, I put the muffler back on sans bolt through the bracket. Darrell finds the bolt miraculously but not the nut, I have the muffler back on and use cable ties through the bolt hole to keep the bracket in place. We are now seriously in jeopardy of missing the ferry. Back on our motorcycles, however I am reluctant to ride too fast, wondering if the cable ties may melt from conducted heat. We finally get to the terminal, it is about 7pm, I don't want to believe it but the gates are still open. We pull up at the ticket office and I can see on the counter there are two tickets there, in other words we are the last to arrive. As I am talking to the ticket officer I notice someone close the gates to the terminal!
We get off the ferry in Melbourne around 7am, Darrell kindly follows me home, or mostly, my Interceptor covered in oil roars up my drive way. I am home and what a stupendous adventure.