By mistake Paul had everyone up an hour early this morning. Barb was happy with this as she is always itching to get started but Brian wasn’t his usual cheerful self. He likes to lie in and work into the day slowly.

We started off before 8am when it was still fresh and cool with not a breath of wind. The road was smooth, flat and fairly straight, still on the A3. It ran close but not right on the coast, through forest, farmland, past lagoons and crossing creeks and rivers. At 26km we took a left turn onto the A4 to go over Elephant Pass to St Marys. The alternative was to stay on the A3 for the shorter, flatter road up the coast.

The Pass is a magic bike ride, climbing to 400m over 8km through a forest of gums on an extremely quiet road. The grade is about the same as the Akatarawara Hill but a kilometre longer and with a steeper section of half a kilometre in the middle. Last time Paul was having a bad heart day and the climb was difficult but today it was a breeze. We stopped at the Pancake Barn at the summit for the obligatory photos but not for the sweet syrupy sticky pancakes with cream. Somehow not the right food for an energetic bike ride.

At the Pancake Barn there is this sign adjacent to the entry to the owner’s house:

“Don’t even think about blocking these gates!                                                     Our elephants will stomp your wretched hire car down to the hub caps. Your co-operation is appreciated”.

This is in five languages.

From the summit it is a fast run down to the small town of St Marys and the Purple Possum Wholefoods Cafe. We called in here last time and Barb wanted to buy one of their tee shirts but they didn’t have her size. None were on display today but the lady said she still had a few out the back which were going to be sent back because they were made of a strange neoprene like material. There was one in Barb’s size and she got it for $10. Paul was very happy as well, as they had fresh baked rhubarb cake.

We then had about 7km of spectacular downhill through St Mary’s Pass, the road cut into the side of the hill and through more huge gum trees. At the bottom we met up with the A3 again for a flat run along the coast through Scamander and Beaumaris.  Brian wanted to go to Eureka Farm who claim to have the best ice cream in Tasmania. So we put him out in front but he cycled straight past two huge signs without seeing them. By the time we caught him we were too far past. Over one more hill and we were in St Helens.

Our accommodation is about 2.5km south of town and located on a rise with view over Georges Bay.  It is a two storied apartment with living/dining, kitchen and toilet upstairs, two bedrooms with shower and toilet downstairs.

In the evening Manfred and his partner Sarah came round to pick up Brian’s bike. They live part of the year here in St Helens. We invited them in and talked with them for quite a while. Manfred has been running cycle tours in Ireland for twenty years and works there during the northern hemisphere summer. He does the same thing in Tasmania in our summer. Sarah is Irish and has a small farm with four horses, chickens, dogs, cats, etc. Who knows we may use them as we want to go to Ireland in a couple of years time. Sarah has promised to buy us the first pint if we meet her there. However I think she could put away a fair few pints in an evening.

Tomorrow morning Brian catches the bus to Launceston to meet Jan and pick up their hire car.

Today has been the best day yet on this tour, perfect weather, fantastic cycling, Barb got her tee shirt and Paul got some rhubarb cake.

Today we stayed put in Bicheno. We could have gone to Freycinet National  Park but there wasn’t much enthusiasm. There were two options.

The first was to cycle 15km back down highway A3 and then 27km into the park entrance. A round trip of about 85km.

The second was to cycle back into Bicheno,  lock our bikes at the bus stop and catch the bus to the park entrance. Bus cost A$28 plus a park day pass. The bus left at 7.35. From the bus there was a 2km walk into the heart of the park.

Barb and I have already spent 2 nights in the park and Brian is going with Jan when they have their rental car. So we opted for a quiet day in Bicheno.

This is a small town of about 850 reliant on a small fishing fleet and vacationers. It is a very popular beach resort and has all the basics with a warm settled climate, great beaches, good fishing and diving, forest parks etc. We waited for some drizzly rain to stop and then cycled into town around 10am.

We rode around the headland, stopped for coffee and muffins, stopped at The Gulch where there is a little fishing fleet based in a narrow channel between the mainland and Governor’s Island. This island has thousand of screeching sea birds and stinks of guano. Then on to the Blowhole, a formation in the rocks that if the tide and wind are right forms a plume of spray. A bit underwhelming when we visited it. Then to the grave of Waubdebar – an aborigine who was stolen as a teenager from her tribe to become a “sealer’s woman”. She became a heroine by swimming out in a storm to rescue two sealers from their capsized boat. A walk to the top of the headland, Whale’s Lookout, and then exhausted went to the local pub for lunch.

Barb and Brian had the senior’s special, hot pot and vegetables, while I searched the menu in vain for spare ribs (very weak joke). That was pretty much Bicheno done, a pretty typical beach resort on the East Coast. Oh yes there was a motorcycle museum and the RSL had happy hour from 5.30 till 6.30 on Fridays.

It was now a blue sky day and hot so another refreshing swim at our perfect little beach and a bit of a lie down.

Bacon and eggs for dinner again, this time with some ice cream.

The wifi in Bicheno was very poor, extremely hard to get a connection and then so weak you couldn’t do anything. So these are catch up posts from St Helens.

Awoke in Swansea to a fine sunny day and by departure time at 9.00am it was already very hot. A very flat ride today but into head wind all the way, just to keep us honest. We stopped at the tiny hamlet of Cranwood, about 5 houses, a fire station, a community building and a vineyard. We had stopped here three years ago to eat our lunch we had bought in Swansea. Talked to a philosophical guy who was cleaning up his devastated garden.  They had 200mm rain in 24 hours, average is 200mm in a month, and one district had 60mm in an hour.

The only hill today was Cherry Tree Hill which used to have a small scruffy car park with views out over Freycinet and the Hazards.  This car park is now closed and at the bottom of the hill at Devil’s Corner Vineyard they have built a very nice modern, architectural cafe, tasting room and look out tower. We stayed here quite a while for their coffee and muffins, the beautiful clean toilets and the futuristic tower. And to get out of the heat.

There were lots of farmers and road workers out today, mending fences, clearing culverts and picking up carcases etc. As well as the frogs the tiny black flies are having a feeding frenzy. All day we cycled through them. They attacked in squadrons, coming out of the sun, and got in our mouths, ears, up our noses and we’re plastered all over the front of our fluoro vests. Maybe the are attracted to yellow? They get under your glasses and crawl around your eye lids and eye brows. Brian says we need cycle helmets with a circle of hanging corks! We joked with a lady at the Freycinet Info Kiosk that we had already eaten our high protein lunch.

The accommodation at Bicheno is palatial and much too good for us. It is a large two bedroom fully equipped unit, 3km out of town located high on the side of a hill, looking out over a stunning beach and the ocean. In the afternoon we walked down the hill and had a refreshing swim. The surf was very boisterous but the water was crystal clear. The sand is that very fine white silica kind that sqeaks when you walk on it. We had this lovely little cove, that is part of a much larger bay, all to our selves.

In our fridge we have been left a dozen eggs and a large container of delicious looking bacon. Enough to feed the three of us for a week. There is also half a tub of cookies and cream ice cream. We have decided we can’t be bothered cycling or walking 3km back into town so it will be bacon and eggs for dinner.

Today was only 45kms and tomorrow is a rest day so a good opportunity for my sore ribs to heal a bit.

A good and a bad day.

Rained again in the night and when Barb went out at 7.30am to get some supplies from the local store she got caught in a shower. 7km to Triabunna and it rained a bit but not too bad. We went in to Triabunna to check out the Maria Island ferry which we will do when we come back this way in the rental car.

While there we came across a group of about a dozen archaeologists digging and sifting through some trenches and foundations. They were at two naval barracks from the nineteenth century doing a “dig”.  Half expected it to be Tony Robinson from the TV Time Team.  We spoke to a very pleasant and enthusiastic young lady who explained what they were doing and invited us into the barracks where they had dozens of trays and plastic bags with coins, buttons, pipe bowls, glass, crockery, etc. It was all being methodically catalogued and stored. They had been there two weeks already. This was an unexpected and nice start to the day.

From Triabunna we cycled inland past farms damaged by the floods. Fields that were just muddy bogs and sheep that were all brown and caked in mud. Barb saw one sheep that had died pinned against a fence by the torrent of water. Other paddocks were lakes and the side of the road was littered with broken trees, rocks and mud.

With the plentiful new lakes and the warm temperatures there was a frog breading frenzy. Not just the odd ribbit but a wall of sound. Continuous machine gun fire of croaks and it went on just about all day. They must have been very small frogs as we didn’t actually see any.

Now for the ouch bit.

About 20kms into today’s ride we came to some road works (the signs say Traffic Hazard here). The floods had washed a bit of the road away and left a gravely surface with pot holes. Brian, in front, mountain biker that he is, cycled straight through it. Barb didn’t see it till the last second and braked suddenly. Paul following too closely reacted too slowly and to avoid hitting Barb locked up front and rear brakes, skidded off the road and down a sloping rocky shoulder and came off. The result was bruises and scratches all down the left leg with a chunk of skin taken out below the knee, a sore elbow with skin missing on the fore arm, and bruised ribs on the left hand side at about arm pit level.

Two fortunate things: I didn’t break my collar bone (the most common cycling injury), and I smacked my head hard on the ground as I landed but the Giro helmet did its job otherwise I would have had a nasty injury to the side of my head. The helmet has a few indentations from stones.

Some workmen came over to see what had happened and stood around with hands in pockets grunting the minimum amount of sympathy they could get away with. Probably thinking “frigging stupid senile old git”. After regaining my composure we carried on about 10km to Mayfield Creek Park which is on the coast and has a beach. I was able to wash away the blood and get much of the road grit out of the wounds with sea water.

I could cycle okay and we carried on to Spikey Bridge. A 50m long and 10m wide mass rock bridge built by convicts over a tiny little stream. Next stop was Kate’s Berry Farm where we stopped for ice creams. Unfortunately it was on a very long uphill driveway. We had two flavours, a salted caramel and a bright lilac coloured lavender.

The shock and adrenalin were wearing off by now and I was feeling a bit sore as we entered Swansea. Fortunately the Swansea Motor Inn had a bath so while Barb and Brian went for a 90min walk around the headland I soaked my battered body in a lovely hot bath. Given the choice what would you do? Go for a hike or soak in the bath?

Unfortunately we had to spend our daily wine allowance on bandages and Savlon so just had to sit and watch Brian drink his beer. The bruises, scratches and grazes are okay but the bruised ribs are painful. I can cycle okay but it is hard getting on and off the bike and everytime I hit a bump, say getting on or off a bridge, my whole chest seizes up.

The weather cleared up nicely today and we had a hot sunny ride. Only saw the Chinaman once.

Cycling thought for the day: Stay calm and keep on peddling.