We knew there would be very few opportunities to get food or drink on today’s 78km ride. Just a kiosk at Myrtle Recreation Ground and the Nuamara Roadhouse.  So went back to the Woolworth Supermarket to buy some lunch: cheese, egg and bacon rolls, muffins, bananas and Powerade.

About 14km out of Scottsdale we hit the big climb of the day, the Sideling. It is 8km long and rises 400m. The steepest part is the first 2km and then it becomes long lazy switch backs with hairpin bends. Although you are climbing among trees it is almost always out in the sun and we arrived at the lookout hot, very red faced and with the engine about to boil.

Another 1km to the crest and then a lovely 10km of downhill and some flat to the Myrtle Recreation Ground. The kiosk sold us a not too bad coffee from a vending machine you put tokens into. Had our lunch there, refilled our water bottles and had a longish break. Mainly downhill and flat from here but with a few short, sharp killer uphills. Passed through some areas that had bush fires not too long ago. And boy was it hot, we were really suffering, out in the open farmland with no protection from the sun.

About 20km from Launceston we turned off the main road and wound our way through quiet, narrow country lanes. Lots of changes in direction at intersections so Barb was kept busy consulting the route notes. The last hill into Evandale was a bit nasty. Only about 200m long but steep enough to only plod up it in the lowest granny gear. We noticed the hedges at the side of the road had blueberry plants growing in them and they were loaded with berries.

I stopped and filled a couple of pockets with berries thinking we would eat them at the top of the hill, as a reward. But when we bit into them they were hard and very bitter and spit the lot out. They were not yet ripe and left a very strong taste in the mouth for the rest of the ride. We were long out of water and so could not wash the taste out.

Evandale is situated on a ridge overlooking fertile agricultural and grazing land.  It’s irregular streets, authentic hostelries, and quaint colonial architecture make you think of how villages were long ago. The earliest houses go back to the 1820s. We are staying in one of two self contained units on a seven acre property that has one of the oldest houses in Evandale. It has lovely gardens and many mature trees.

The owner Gill (69) was waiting for us and fussed around getting us settled in. She provided bacon and eggs, a fresh loaf of bread from here bread maker, oranges off her trees, home made jams, a jar of her preserved Greengage plums and delicious muesli. She wanted to know what milk we wanted and cycled off to the local store for some “skinny”  milk.

We just collapsed. The last two days we had found very hot and tough. Dragging those panniers up all those hills.

Evandale fancies itself as the penny farthing capital of Australia and in two weeks time there is a big festival here with penny farthing races around the streets.

Breakfast was the usual continental but the filter coffee was better than the usual instant and the apple juice was the best we have had.

After only 3km warm up we hit the first big climb of 500m in 10km over Weldborough Pass. Last time before Darren Hooks worked his magic with his cardiac ablation I suffered up this hill, gasping for air, jelly legs and a heart about to explode. Today it was fine, not exactly a pleasure, but comfortable. Just get in the right gear, get your cadence constant and keep on chugging.

The road was narrow and in forest until it broke out into broad meadows at the summit. We went to the lookout platform where last time Owen somehow managed to turn his front wheel inside out. A fast downhill through a forest of myrtle trees to the tiny settlement of Weldborough which apart from a handful of broken down houses is just a pub. The Pub didn’t open till 11.30, it being Sunday, but someone from the Blue Tier Group had left a note for Michael to make 9 steak sandwiches and 2 hamburgers for lunch!

Then a 7km downhill (Manfred says an absolute mega-ezperience) through dense rainforest to Moorina which was once a flourishing tin mining town of 1000 inhabitants, pubs and schools. Today there is a golf course, one occupied and one unoccupied house. Today was the annual golf competition between all the pubs of the district and the owner of Pub in the Paddock told us he would be there.

Slightly off the road, next to a rather large cemetery, was an interesting memorial to the Chinese who came to work in the mines. It was mainly about several unsuccessful attempts to convert the Chinese to Christianity. There are several memorials and museums called The Tin Dragon Trail.

Some ups and downs and into the town of Derby where all the buildings are made of wood – unusual for Australia. It has a lovely atmosphere of old houses, several art/coffee shops and a new tin mine museum. This weekend there were two days of mountain bike racing called Slaughter the Dragon (or Slay the Dragon?). There were hundreds of guys all strutting their stuff, and their groupies – all long tanned legs, skimpy shorts and way too much make up. Wish we could have stayed longer but after refreshments hit the road again. It took ages for the legs to stop complaining and start delivering some power.

Manfred’s notes said that after the town of Branxholm we could do a small detour of 8km to Legerwood to see some WW1 memorial woodcarvings.  Then 2km back onto the main road. He didn’t make it clear this was all as well, as not instead of, staying on the main road. After a nice cool morning it was now sunny and very hot. You could feel the heat radiating up off the bitumen road.

I’m not sure about the carvings. They are large trees that have cut down to their major limbs and then the ends carved to represent people and scenes from WW1. This was probably a good thought and idea over a few pints in the pub but in reality I’m not sure if it is brilliant, kitsch or just plain weird. The chain saw carver was good but no Michelangelo. Have a look at the photos.

At the carvings we had an ice cold lemonade and a Leppin and felt reinvigorated. With only 25km to go it is often tempting to just persevere on to get it over and done as soon as possible. But this time after a rest and refuel we felt good. Raced over Billycock Hill whereas last time I walked the last kilometre and sad in the shade of the trees for half an hour recovering.

Scottsdale is one of those towns that follow the ancient defensive strategy of locating itself on the top of a hill. So as you approach you see a long ascending road which always seems steep due to the fore-shortening perspective. The climb into Scottsdale had all the tricks: false flats, successive crests, hidden dips where you lose all your hard earned altitude.

But eventually you get there and the lady at Anabel’s must have thought we looked awfully hot and bothered as she took one look at us and went straight to the bar to get us each a large, cold, freshly squeezed orange juice. These disappeared in about one gulp.

90km today including our 10km side excursion. A total of 1666m of climbing, a bit more than we do on the Lake Taupe Cycle Challenge.

In the Pub in the Paddock there was a poster with the following:

Rules for Women Teachers 1915

“You will not marry during the term of your contract.

You will not keep the company of men.

You must be home between the hours of 8pm and 6am unless attending a school function.

You may not loiter down town in ice cream parlours.

You may not ride in a carriage or automotive with a man unless he is your father or brother.

You may not smoke cigarettes.

You may not dress in bright colours.

Under no circumstances may you die your hair.

You must wear two petticoats and your dresses may not be shorter than 2 inches above the ground.”

Barb says Marsden School had moved on a little way from this in 100 years.

It was a bit strange setting off this morning without Brian and knowing we wouldn’t meet the Chinaman. We last saw the latter at the Purple Possum Cafe buying Tasmanian honey for his student friends in Sydney but wasn’t sure if it was allowed into NSW. He was ending his cycling in St Helens.

Today we left the sea and coast and headed inland. We won’t see it again for about four days when we reach Stanley. A short day of cycling today so a leisurely start and slow peddling. After fuelling up with Powerade at the IGA St Helens we departed just as they were setting up for the Saturday market.

The climate on the East Coast is usually warm and dry despite their recent experience of a “rain bomb”. So the farms are generally brown and arid and run sheep. Now that we are heading into the north the farms are lush and green and run cows. So fittingly our destination is Pyrengana near a cheese factory where there is free tasting of cloth-bound cheddar. The factory also has a cafe called the Holy Cow Cafe.  I had been looking forward to this place all trip as last time I had a drink of Rhu Bru, a delicious rhubarb drink. Sadly they were out of stock so had to settle for coffee and large cow pat cookies.

Our accommodation is half a km along the road from the cafe at the St Columbia Falls Hotel, also known as the Pub in the Paddock. This is a heritage hotel from about 1880 and is still pretty original, but thankfully not in the bathroom facilities. We have gone from huge 2 bedroom apartments in Bicheno and St Helens to a tiny bedroom with facilities at the end of the passage, shared with 6 other rooms. We are the only occupants here tonight though.

From the pub there is a 10km ride to the St Columbia Falls, the second highest in Tasmania at 90 metres. The road up through the Pyrengana Valley is one of the best on the trip, the creek and forest of eucalyptus, myrtle and sassafras is magical. The forest has changed from mainly eucalyptus with sparse undergrowth to mixed species with dense undergrowth and lots of fern. The falls were about a 10 min walk in from the road through cool rainforest.

We are just lounging around the hotel and at various times we have had groups of about a dozen or more dirt bikers, quad bikers and Harley Davidsons turn up. They all strip off helmets, gloves and jackets and head straight to the bar for a pint. After half an hour of banter, laughter and horse play they are back on their machines and after much loud revving of engines they are gone. Peace and quiet returns.

The star attraction at the Pub in the Paddock is Priscilla the beer drinking pig. There are bottles of beer already lined up for the patrons to feed the monstrous pig. We decided to keep well away.

For dinner in the pub we had Roo cakes with gravy and vegetables followed by home made plum pudding with caramel and brandy sauce. Now that is good cycling tucker.

It’s a bit strange at the pub tonight, all the staff and the owner have locked up and gone. Leaving just us in an empty pub in an empty paddock. A bit spooky.  I just hope Priscilla doesn’t want a beer in the middle of the night.

PS no wifi for the last three nights so these are a bit behind.

The A3 road we have been following for 220km from Orford to St Helens is called the Great Eastern Drive and is vigorously promoted as one of Australia’s greatest road trips. A sort of Tassie cousin of big sister Victoria’s Great Ocean Road.

“….you embark on an experience that includes stunning coastline, incredible national parks, world-famous beaches and outdoor adventures most people only dream about. Added to this our vibrant towns, lush vineyards, fantastic east coast food and fresh produce, and you have all the ingredients for the perfect Tasmanian Holiday….”

Allowing for the rain, floods and flies it really is a marvellous area to travel in. Even the areas have cool names. The district around St Helens is called Break o’Day Council. So much more interesting than Wellington City Council or Kapiti District Council. Being on the East coast they get a sunrise over the ocean every day.

This morning we said goodbye to Brian who caught the bus to Launceston. Barb and I have a day here in St Helens and we decided to visit Binalong Bay and go for a swim at Cosy Corner Beach, both in the Bay of Fires. We bought some lunch at the local bakery and cycled the 10km to Binalong Bay, mostly flat around the edge of Georges Bay, but one stiff climb just before the bay. Binalong claims to have the whitest beach sand in the world and they could be right as you experience the glare as you walk on the beach.

We found some coffee and chocolate cake at a little shack in Binalong and the very friendly lady recommended we go to Cosy Corner for our swim. Her husband said once we had climbed back up the stiff hill it was pretty much flat all the way. Maybe in his dreams! It was up down, up down, steep short hills all the way for about 8kms. But it was worth it. A magic little beach but unlike Bicheno we had to share it with other people as there was a motor camp nearby.

Warm crystal clear water, white sand, blue sky. Just perfect.

Ate our lunch under some trees and then headed back. Up down,  up down. From feeling cool and refreshed after the swim in no time we were all hot and sweaty again.

St Helens is the largest town on the East coast and is the big game fishing capital of Tasmania. Also big in tin mining in the past and now, tourism, forestry and oyster farming. Population of 3500 and about as many shops as say Levin.

We will miss Brian on the rest of the cycling, he is great company and always comes up with something humorous to say.