About two weeks ago I went to a short talk by one of the founders of FareShare, a Melbourne based organization that rescues 'to be thrown out' food and prepares it to be served to people in need. The commercial and industrial sector in Victoria alone throws out 140,000 tons of food, per year! Combine that with the ~$600 worth of food that the average Australian throws out each year and we've got a lot of unnecessary waste piling up! FareShare has rescued nearly 97 tons of food this year and given away over 327,000 meals. Woohoo.
Last night I had the opportunity to be on the up close and personal side of food waste.
At 12:30am I texted Christine*, a friend of the urban wwoof hosts I am staying with in Melbourne: I'm near the 67 tram stop, hopefully I'm in the right spot?
12:31am: c u in 2
I let out a nervous giggle, glancing around at the suburban strip mall to my right and the lanes of nearly deserted highway to my left, feeling like I was about to take part in some serious crime-making.
True to her word, Christine pulled up in a black van two minutes later. "Kelsey?" "Christine?" I hopped in the front seat. Talking with Christine came easily and only stopped when we pulled up along side a Coles Supermarket. "You have a headlight?" "Mmhmm." "Gloves too?" "Yep."
We walked casually past the lit up staff room straight for "the golden bin." Aptly named for the treasure trove of edible food resting inside. "Um, so, do you have a typical procedure for going about this?" I asked. Christine explained how one person would go around the edge of the dumpster, handing anything worth saving to the other person to put in a box. Then she'd climb inside and dig deep, salvaging as much as possible.
As she leaned over the edge and stated rustling past the cardboard and black bags full of trash, I stood on my tiptoes to get a peak at what lay inside. Soon enough, Christine was handing me all sorts of items. Bananas, barely a day past being perfectly ripe. Dozens of small potato chip bags. Lindt chocolate bars only a couple weeks past their expiration date, but otherwise fine. Seemingly fine bags of pasta and lentils. Several plastic wrapped organic pieces of squash and pumpkin that would need to be eaten pretty soon. Packaged avocados. Biscuits. Crackers. Tins of fruit and vegetables. Towels. A Pinnochio DVD. Toothpaste.
Over the next 3.5 hours we drove to approximately 7 dumpsters, backtracking to some that had workers around on our first try, collecting enough food to feed 15 people for a week, at least. Every bin felt a bit like Christmas morning, not knowing what goodies would be inside. It was both fascinating and appalling.
Now, groggy after only 4 hours of sleep and a belly full of an urbanly gleaned lunch, I feel grateful for having had the opportunity to dive into the underground culture of sustainability. Every day since stepping foot on this Australian land, and many before on other continents, I am reminded of the myriad of ways we can each tweak our lives and let go of misguided judgements to build community and lessen our negative impacts on the planet.
*name changed, just in case
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Monday, May 4, 2009
Tasmanian Awards and Winners
It took a while to tally the results, but its finally finished... the 2009, KiloMikeEcoBike Tasmanian Awards! Don't worry, we all win, except that Rossarden hill and the road out to Eddystone Point Lighthouse.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Best Cheerleaders: Great Australian Bike Riders (Takone to Tullah)! Way to go, you guys really know how to make a cyclist feel good!
Most needed and appreciated cup of tea: Ron and Lola at the Derwent River, ~5ks from Lake St. Clair Ntl. Park. And several times thereafter!
Best Cafe: Exetor Bakery. Donuts, berry turnovers, chocolate mint slices. I'm lucky I stopped myself there. All cyclists must stop! That sign should be on their door!
Best Pancakes: TIE! Rick's in Tullah and Dianne's in Strahan. So much pancake love, thank you!
Best blackberry picking and the most motivating "be the change you want to see in the world" lifestyle: Nick and Michelle. Organic gardening, yoghurt and soymilk making, biking and public transporting, climate change educating, bike safety advocating, humanuring, community building...yay!
Most gracious welcoming of a stranger in a tent camped on their property: Rick and Barbara! Plus, most delicious raspberries and homemade jam!
Favorite "luxury" items: Real towels and a pillow!
Kids most capable of making adults laugh: Ellen and Sam Hillcoat
Most illusive Australian Marsupial: the wild common wombat! You got away from me this time, but I still adore you and hold out hope for a sighting in other parts of Australia.
Best campfire meal: The Anderson's "hippy soup" at Mt. William Ntl. Park
Most luxurious bath: St. Mary's at Sally and Michael's house
Most loving hug: Jane, when walking up to her door and her coming outside and saying, "oh, come here, we have been reading your blog..." followed by the warmest, kindest hug
Most thoughtful responses to KiloMikeEcoBike blog entries: Dianne
Most stunning paintings seen on trip: Raymond and Helena. Not to mention, my wonderful hosts to my favorite town of the trip. Its got atmosphere, history, and stunning colors...Queenstown!
Most re-energizing family: Dave, Rebecca, Sarah, Katie, Claire, and Roseanna Boyle/Green. You guys came at just the right time!
Best question: Year 3-4 student in Hobart, "But, do you ever go on holiday?" "This is my holiday! And in a way, my entire life is my holiday!"
Most relaxing spot: Family 'shack" at Connellys Marsh
Best day trip: Strahan to Ocean Beach. Bird life, seals, mostly empty beach, peace.
Most ambitious business pursuit of the year: Dianne, founder of WombatsRUs, providing funny signs, edible treats, and encouraging text messages aimed at making Tassie cyclists happy and well fed.
Best backpackers: Swansea! Clean, warm, and NOT filled with drunk travelers, hooray!
Most gruesome hill: Rossarden, 7k climb
Best reward on top of a hill: Phil and Margaret, BB and Ali in Rossarden
Best tim tam supply: Phil and Marg
Best chocolate cake: Heather
Best sleepout: John, Gill, Ellen, and Sam's cubby house overlooking the Tamar River
Most thoughtful going away card: Ya Ho Tash! Full of warm fuzzies that kept my spirits up in some of the tougher Tasmanian moments.
Worst road conditions: C840 to Eddystone Point Lighthouse. Boo corrugated boo sand pits!
Best cuddle: Mater the Wombat at something wild wildlife sanctuary
Best unexpected ferry companions: Ted and Jane
Worst singer ever heard: Me, apparently. According to Alice in Deloraine. I know, I was shocked too!
Funniest text message received: "I woke up really needing to poo today and thought of you...Love, Julia."
Best garden gift surprise: John's in Triabunna. Peaches, apples, figs, and more!
Best tour guide: Phil on the tour of Rossarden
Most appreciated and happy run in with other cyclists: Jessie and Karon, 8 k's from Forth, 18 k's from Devonport.
Best weekend getaway: Cradle Mountain. Thanks Janet and Alice!
Most outstanding bike: GOAT! With zero punctured tires on some seriously rocky roads. At first I only liked you, but now I think I love you. Thank you, Goat, for transporting me safely all around that beautiful Tasmanian state!
And two awards that were impossible to distribute due to dozen way tie: Most spectacular bike ride and most welcoming, warm-hearted host. If you gave me a bed, a corner of floor, a place for my tent, or a warm shower and a few hours of company, then please know that you hold a very, very dear place in my heart. I was constantly wowed and made to feel very loved along my journey. So yay, all you folk in Tasmania, you win!
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Statistical extras during 50 day journey:
# of wahoos: 148
# of middle of the night pees (no, not IN the bed): at least 40
# of day hikes: approx. 8
# of times reached for granny gear: 784
# of tim tams consumed: approx. 23
# of ice-creams consumed: approx. 15
# of falls off bike: 2
# of cry times: approx. 3
# of peed pants times due to laughter: i really think its zero, i'm getting good!
# of hills walked up: 2.45. Hobart suburb street to Rebecca's place. Wielangta Forest Reserve dirt road full of steep, non-grippable surface. The final 200m to Jess and Matt's in St. Helen's. So steep!
---------------------------------------------------------------
Best Cheerleaders: Great Australian Bike Riders (Takone to Tullah)! Way to go, you guys really know how to make a cyclist feel good!
Most needed and appreciated cup of tea: Ron and Lola at the Derwent River, ~5ks from Lake St. Clair Ntl. Park. And several times thereafter!
Best Cafe: Exetor Bakery. Donuts, berry turnovers, chocolate mint slices. I'm lucky I stopped myself there. All cyclists must stop! That sign should be on their door!
Best Pancakes: TIE! Rick's in Tullah and Dianne's in Strahan. So much pancake love, thank you!
Best blackberry picking and the most motivating "be the change you want to see in the world" lifestyle: Nick and Michelle. Organic gardening, yoghurt and soymilk making, biking and public transporting, climate change educating, bike safety advocating, humanuring, community building...yay!
Most gracious welcoming of a stranger in a tent camped on their property: Rick and Barbara! Plus, most delicious raspberries and homemade jam!
Favorite "luxury" items: Real towels and a pillow!
Kids most capable of making adults laugh: Ellen and Sam Hillcoat
Most illusive Australian Marsupial: the wild common wombat! You got away from me this time, but I still adore you and hold out hope for a sighting in other parts of Australia.
Best campfire meal: The Anderson's "hippy soup" at Mt. William Ntl. Park
Most luxurious bath: St. Mary's at Sally and Michael's house
Most loving hug: Jane, when walking up to her door and her coming outside and saying, "oh, come here, we have been reading your blog..." followed by the warmest, kindest hug
Most thoughtful responses to KiloMikeEcoBike blog entries: Dianne
Most stunning paintings seen on trip: Raymond and Helena. Not to mention, my wonderful hosts to my favorite town of the trip. Its got atmosphere, history, and stunning colors...Queenstown!
Most re-energizing family: Dave, Rebecca, Sarah, Katie, Claire, and Roseanna Boyle/Green. You guys came at just the right time!
Best question: Year 3-4 student in Hobart, "But, do you ever go on holiday?" "This is my holiday! And in a way, my entire life is my holiday!"
Most relaxing spot: Family 'shack" at Connellys Marsh
Best day trip: Strahan to Ocean Beach. Bird life, seals, mostly empty beach, peace.
Most ambitious business pursuit of the year: Dianne, founder of WombatsRUs, providing funny signs, edible treats, and encouraging text messages aimed at making Tassie cyclists happy and well fed.
Best backpackers: Swansea! Clean, warm, and NOT filled with drunk travelers, hooray!
Most gruesome hill: Rossarden, 7k climb
Best reward on top of a hill: Phil and Margaret, BB and Ali in Rossarden
Best tim tam supply: Phil and Marg
Best chocolate cake: Heather
Best sleepout: John, Gill, Ellen, and Sam's cubby house overlooking the Tamar River
Most thoughtful going away card: Ya Ho Tash! Full of warm fuzzies that kept my spirits up in some of the tougher Tasmanian moments.
Worst road conditions: C840 to Eddystone Point Lighthouse. Boo corrugated boo sand pits!
Best cuddle: Mater the Wombat at something wild wildlife sanctuary
Best unexpected ferry companions: Ted and Jane
Worst singer ever heard: Me, apparently. According to Alice in Deloraine. I know, I was shocked too!
Funniest text message received: "I woke up really needing to poo today and thought of you...Love, Julia."
Best garden gift surprise: John's in Triabunna. Peaches, apples, figs, and more!
Best tour guide: Phil on the tour of Rossarden
Most appreciated and happy run in with other cyclists: Jessie and Karon, 8 k's from Forth, 18 k's from Devonport.
Best weekend getaway: Cradle Mountain. Thanks Janet and Alice!
Most outstanding bike: GOAT! With zero punctured tires on some seriously rocky roads. At first I only liked you, but now I think I love you. Thank you, Goat, for transporting me safely all around that beautiful Tasmanian state!
And two awards that were impossible to distribute due to dozen way tie: Most spectacular bike ride and most welcoming, warm-hearted host. If you gave me a bed, a corner of floor, a place for my tent, or a warm shower and a few hours of company, then please know that you hold a very, very dear place in my heart. I was constantly wowed and made to feel very loved along my journey. So yay, all you folk in Tasmania, you win!
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Statistical extras during 50 day journey:
# of wahoos: 148
# of middle of the night pees (no, not IN the bed): at least 40
# of day hikes: approx. 8
# of times reached for granny gear: 784
# of tim tams consumed: approx. 23
# of ice-creams consumed: approx. 15
# of falls off bike: 2
# of cry times: approx. 3
# of peed pants times due to laughter: i really think its zero, i'm getting good!
# of hills walked up: 2.45. Hobart suburb street to Rebecca's place. Wielangta Forest Reserve dirt road full of steep, non-grippable surface. The final 200m to Jess and Matt's in St. Helen's. So steep!
Cradle Mountain to Devonport (3 May 2009) and readjusting to Melbourne
3 May 3:45 pm
I did it! Devonport, Tasmania. Full circle, sitting outside the post office waiting for Karon. Four hours, 15 minutes till ferry departure. Stunning, downhill ride with occasional uphill bursts. A superb finale ride. I'm having trouble concentrating. Traffic and girls in a sporty car with loud "gitchy gitchy ya ya yaaa" music playing. Three guys drinking beer in the hotel pub across the street. Revving engines. Old ladies walking by, commenting on the weather. "Cool." I'm pretty freakin' cool. I'm so proud of myself. 1,700k's. Mega hills. Corrugated, sandy dirt roads. Camping alone, identifying birds, long day hikes, and dozens of strangers I was lucky enough to meet. Karon and Jessie met me about 8k's from Forth. "You're too fast!" they shouted as they waved hello. We stopped along the side of the road to properly meet each other and chit chat. And then an easy spurt into Forth where I unloaded some of my stuff into Karon's car. They headed towards Leith to get some extra K's in and I headed up my last Tasmanian hill. A mild, 2-3k one. Ocean views and rolling farmland. Not much could have wiped that smile off my face. But now I'm here. And its sinking in. No more Tasmania. I hope Karon gets here soon, its cold and I don't like this corner of Devonport. Too much noise. Back to the big city tomorrow. Even more noise and fashion and out of rural, wilderness land. Seven weeks.
9:45pm
Writing on the ferry is bound to make me sick. But I need it. The writing and the recalling and all the images rushing through my head. If I don't write it... I have to write. Falling asleep with tears just escaping my eyes. No more empty stretches of road to sing along. Wahoos, things I'd normally be too shy to shout. Sense of place. To fall so in love with a place. Today Tasmania gave me my favorite scene on one of the rushes downhill: the intensity of green. Layers, gum trees up close. Bright. Dark. Like so many rides before. I could only glance, let it sink in from the corner of my eye as I'd brake to keep myself on my side of the road. Curves. Bends. Heartache. There is a German word for that. Linda, Anja, and Jens taught me it. Somehow I've forgotten it. But it's necessary now. People who ask questions. Then give me space to share. Reasons to dream. No matter how ready I am to rest for a few days in Melbourne. This place. These people. Ingrained. Such endless giving.
4 May 7:52am Melbourne
My emotional wobbliness seems to have settled now that I'm off the ferry. Sitting by the beach with a celebration breakfast: the very last of my muesli, peanut butter and nutella sandwich and the chocolate Janet gave me at Cradle Mountain. Hooray! 1,721.68 k's. My first solo tour! Somehow the process of finishing something is always harder than the actually being done. As I disembarked the ferry, I saw another young cycle tourist up ahead. He waited for me and told me he'd just finished a three week blitz around Tasmania going clockwise. And he had severely underestimated the hills. We just got into the rhythm of talking when he said, "Oh, there's my mum!" She seemed so happy to see him and gave him a big hug. I felt like I deserved a big hug too, but of course didn't get one because I was a complete stranger. I bid her son farewell, and now wish I'd asked him to meet up because it would be a tremendous help to my 'debriefing' process to be able to go through Tasmania with someone else who just cycled there too. But once again, its just me. And damnit, I feel a little sick from all the chocolate. It'll pass. Debrief. What do I do? Journal. Re-read. Talk, share. It's amazing how one 11 hour boat ride can make it seem to far away already. It was wonderful having Ted and Jane (friends of Dianne and Karon) on the boat to talk with for a couple hours before attempting sleep. They were a perfect summary of the type of people I'd met along the way. Warm-hearted, spirited, oozing of positive energy. Sleeping was okay. Tossey-turney, but the night went by quickly [There is a tractor "plowing" the sand at the little beach here. Which has got to be one of the dumber things I've seen recently.]
5 May. 8am
Gratitude. There is no other word to sum up how I'm feeling this morning. I slept in for a surprisingly long time (nearly 7:30! An hour longer than usual!) and woke to find a note from Tash. "Morning Pumpkin!..." A sweek wake-up note is definitely one way to start someone's day off right. And then, without getting out of my make-shift bed on the floor, I grabbed the letters Heather and Andrew sent me from the States. Felt like Christmas. Letters are my all time favorite form of long-distance communication. After savouring those, I got up to go to the toilet, then made a cup of tea and rushed back with the scissors to open the package from Andy. A post-card with two javelinas on it which at first I thought were ancient, large wombats that are now extinct. "How did he find this!" I thought before I recognized the Arizona animal. And the book, "the God of Small Things," which I started to read in Oregon last year, but didn't because I was off of reading then, running around like a goof with all those weirdos in the field. And a chocolate bar. And a bell for my bike: a cow's head! I was laughing big time when I saw that! It's perfect!
Yesterday was a collection of every emotion possible. From quite sad early in the morning to at peace with being back in Melbourne and delighted with myself for what I'd just done to happy to see Ange at the Otesha office and talk about how Tasmania was, what's been up with Otesha and Ange herself to thrilled to see Pip and Anna outside the hari krishna veg. restaurant where we were all hugs and then huge plates of $5 food (of which I had 2). And then I was off, attempting to cycle the 30k's to Tash's place, SE of the city, with no map of that region and 2 lines of directions to get onto the Burwood Highway. I would have had no trouble if I followed the directions, but I found myself on a bike path and thought, "Oh. This is nice, I'll take this east for a while then cut south and find the freeway that way." Uh huh. I overestimated my sense of direction and made a nice semi-circle loop back towards the city. But even so, I ended up on Toorak Road, which turned into the Burwood Highway. Goodbye quiet, empty Tasmania, Hello chaotic road rage city! One guy trying to turn right had his window down and practically roared with anger. At least it made me laugh, cause I was feeling that way too! I was pretty cranky and emotional by the time I got to Tash's. But when she opened the door and gave me a massive, long, beautiful hug, it all melted away. I cried a little and we didn't say anything, just hugged. I couldn't have asked for a better welcoming. And she painted a sign that said "welcome home Kelsey!" that I saw as I walked past the kitchen. So incredibly thoughtful. We had cups of tea and I ate some toast with veggies. Then we went to juggling club! I felt shy and awkward , but then got over that and had a giggly great time learning to juggle three balls. I haven't got it yet, but I'm making progress and it feels attainable. Something juggling has never felt like before! Then, exhausted from the day, Tash and I collapsed in the chairs of the UNI lobby, waiting for the FreeFoodMonday to be served. Mmm, another veggie feast. Delicious! Feeling like a zombie after dinner, we drove home and got ready for a wonderful sleep. Yay!
Cradle Mountain to Devonport
Total K's: 93.60
Avg Spd: 19.2 k/hr
Max Spd: 66.1 k/hr
Hours on bike: 4:51
KM Scary Hill Rating: 3/7
Total Tasmanian K's: 1,721.68!
Deloraine to Moina (1 May 2009)
Big day! Closed roads. Return of the mega-hills. A nasty headwind. And the best tourist trap I've encountered yet!
I figured the most direct route to Sheffield (town of murals) while avoiding the main highway would be to head 7-8k's west of Deloraine and get on the C163 at one of two roads. I turned onto the first road and there sat a policeman in his car next a "road closed" sign. "Really? Road's closed?" "Yep. But maybe try the next main road up, that should be open." Hmm, okay. I went to turn around when a half dozen pumped up cars go racing by. Mmhmm, interesting. So much for the policeman's knowledge of the roads, the next road was closed supposedly as well. I rode up to the first dirt driveway and pulled out my maps. I had basically three options:
A) Ignore "road closed" sign and continue with original plan. Dart off road into bushes should any race cars head towards me.
B) Ride the 8k's back to Deloraine and get on big, mean highway to Sheffield.
C) Go the "scenic route" via Mole Creek and skip Sheffield all together, or cut back towards Sheffield at a later point and add 10-15 k's to the trip.
Always being one for safety, I chose option A, 1/2 naively thinking I could go along unnoticed and 1/2 thinking this was pretty stupid and dangerous cause who knows what Tasmania lets its racecar drivers do. Well, option A didn't last long. Two k's further up the road, the street was blocked completely with 2-3 dozen spectators watching cars rev up, zoom by, rev up, zoom by. Car racing has got to be one of the most ridiculous wastes of energy for the sake of "sport." After some super cool young blokes told me it wouldn't end till 1:30 and that there was a back way, but I'd probably get lost in the bush, I backed up and pedaled back the way I'd come from. Down to option B and C. Clearly B was out since I am not a fan of backtracking or big highways. Left with option C, I cycled towards Mole Creek shouting, "Bring it on, Tasmania, bring it on!"
And Tasmania did! With the Honey Farm!!! When I first saw the signs for "honey" and "free tastes" I thought, oh no, I am not falling for that. Get off my bike for a few samples of honey and a shop shouting, "buy! buy! buy!"? But then I saw the next sign: "Honey ice-cream." EERRRRTT. I was in! I sampled about 12 types of honey and was wowed by the cinnamon and lemon honeys the most. Mmmm. At the counter there were 6 types of honey ice-cream. "Um, I'll get an ice-cream too." "Okay, one scoop coming up." "No, two, definitely two, I have a big day of bike riding ahead." Leatherwood honey flavor and chocolate honey. Yum! I win! Best ice-cream in Tasmania I'd say. After enjoying that special and unexpected treat, I consulted with the map again and saw I had two options.
A)Go the scenic, scenic route with more hills and more k's to get to Moina.
B) Cut up the middle road that would put me 5 or so K's W of Sheffield and on a more direct route to Moina.
B! I knew there was a big hill on this road too and I wan't disappointed. Luckiliy, I took the jacket off before the starting the Gog Range climb because I was beat red and sweating up a storm right away. But after 3k's it was over and I was rushing downhill. Wee! The terrain was very undulatey (I know this is not a word, but I like the way it sounds) and on one short, steep hill I swear my front tire actually came off the road for a second! As I was riding up to the intersection I wanted I felt pretty pooped, realizing my honey and ice-cream energy had been used up long ago. Sheffield or no Sheffield, that was the question. Half of me said, "C'mon Kels, this is your last weekend in Tasmania, go see the murals!" while the other half said, "Who cares! It's at least an additional 10k's. If you don't go you could possibly cycle all the way to Cradle Mountain instead!" In the end, I decided that if the sign to Sheffield was less than 5k I'd go, more than 5k I wouldn't, and if it was exactly 5k, I'd stop and think about it. Sign: 4k. "Dangit!" But I went. Sat in the mural park and had 2 sandwiches, the orange/lemon cake from Alice and Janet's, and 5-6 dried pieces of papaya. Usually my energy would rebound pretty quickly, but not this time. I walked around to see the murals up close, then took a short walk around town to see some of the building murals. Some were really beautiful and others, bleh, really unrealistic. I left feeling like it was the sort of town you'd need at least a couple of days in to fully appreciate it.
Leaving Sheffield, with 30 or so K's till Moina is when the headwind really kicked in. It had been around earlier in the day, but hadn't really slowed me down much. Its a tie between strong headwind and corrugated, sandy, dirt road - I'm not sure which gets me crankier faster. Once the larger hills started rolling along, my energy kicked in - go figure! There were a few gradual climbs before a superb, windy zip down. "Wahooo!" I'd been warned about what was on the other side of the downhill: "a pleasant, 6k grind up." An hour going that slow and the talking to self gets more interesting. I was too out of breath to sing, so I recited bits and pieces of poems I could remember. A bird would chirp and, "oh hello, where are you, I can't really look now." A bull ant on its way across the street, "oh, hi! I'm so glad I didn't squish you!" Who knows what else I started talking to or about. Lots of "way to go! you are awesome! you can do this, if you did the Rossarden hill, you can do this!" This was the first big climb where I stood up a tiny bit to get going faster. On other big hills, I was too scared of running out of energy. Eventually, I could see it, the sun blasting its setting way through the trees and the cafe/hotel Janet had told me about, the seemingly only populated building in Moina!
It was 5pm and while I might have been able to make it UP to Cradle Mtn. before dark, I'd had enough. A guy from the hotel came out to see if I needed anything and I told him I was waiting for friends and was about to come in to see if I could wait inside with a hot chocolate. "We're actually closing for dinner. I can bring you one to go?" I said no thanks, he could save the cup and sat outside. An hour later it was dark and cold and finally the hotel people came out and said I could come inside, if I sat in the corner! Wouldn't want a dirty, smelly, mismatched cyclist to offend the proper dinner guests now would we! I ordered an overpriced hot chocolate and was happy to hear Janet and Alice pull up a half hour later. We loaded my bike on top of her car and were off to the Waldheim cabins at Cradle Mountain. Go figure that we would get stuck behind the "Night Bus" for the last 10 k's and so it took quite a long time to get there. "Night bus." Searches for wildlife with a massive, blinding spotlight on the side of the bus, another stupid thing!
Once we got to the cabins we were met by Brad, Ros, Sean (age 8 or 9), and Hugh (age 4, i think?). Everyone gathered in their cabin while I sat on my bunk in the other cabin getting a few things together. Almost went off the emotional deep end due to tiredness and hunger until after a few sobs I told myself, "Just cook some pasta. Eat!" And so I did and was restored to normal. The first and last time I wait two hours after riding to consume my food! I managed to somehow stay awake for a hilarious game of speed monopoly (Australia version) with Brad serving as the aggressive banker and time keeper: "Who's turn is it, roll! Okay, you owe him $140k. Ros, help him count his money. Janet, c'mon, your turn, lets keep this moving." And I'll just say, it is a sad world we live in when monopoly places the Great Barrier Reef as the cheapest piece of property on the board.
Deloraine to Moina
Total K's: 87.33
Avg Spd: 15.1 k/hr
Max Spd: 57.4 k/hr
Hours on bike: 5:44
KM Scary Hill Rating: 5/7
KM Scary Wind Rating: 3/7
I figured the most direct route to Sheffield (town of murals) while avoiding the main highway would be to head 7-8k's west of Deloraine and get on the C163 at one of two roads. I turned onto the first road and there sat a policeman in his car next a "road closed" sign. "Really? Road's closed?" "Yep. But maybe try the next main road up, that should be open." Hmm, okay. I went to turn around when a half dozen pumped up cars go racing by. Mmhmm, interesting. So much for the policeman's knowledge of the roads, the next road was closed supposedly as well. I rode up to the first dirt driveway and pulled out my maps. I had basically three options:
A) Ignore "road closed" sign and continue with original plan. Dart off road into bushes should any race cars head towards me.
B) Ride the 8k's back to Deloraine and get on big, mean highway to Sheffield.
C) Go the "scenic route" via Mole Creek and skip Sheffield all together, or cut back towards Sheffield at a later point and add 10-15 k's to the trip.
Always being one for safety, I chose option A, 1/2 naively thinking I could go along unnoticed and 1/2 thinking this was pretty stupid and dangerous cause who knows what Tasmania lets its racecar drivers do. Well, option A didn't last long. Two k's further up the road, the street was blocked completely with 2-3 dozen spectators watching cars rev up, zoom by, rev up, zoom by. Car racing has got to be one of the most ridiculous wastes of energy for the sake of "sport." After some super cool young blokes told me it wouldn't end till 1:30 and that there was a back way, but I'd probably get lost in the bush, I backed up and pedaled back the way I'd come from. Down to option B and C. Clearly B was out since I am not a fan of backtracking or big highways. Left with option C, I cycled towards Mole Creek shouting, "Bring it on, Tasmania, bring it on!"
And Tasmania did! With the Honey Farm!!! When I first saw the signs for "honey" and "free tastes" I thought, oh no, I am not falling for that. Get off my bike for a few samples of honey and a shop shouting, "buy! buy! buy!"? But then I saw the next sign: "Honey ice-cream." EERRRRTT. I was in! I sampled about 12 types of honey and was wowed by the cinnamon and lemon honeys the most. Mmmm. At the counter there were 6 types of honey ice-cream. "Um, I'll get an ice-cream too." "Okay, one scoop coming up." "No, two, definitely two, I have a big day of bike riding ahead." Leatherwood honey flavor and chocolate honey. Yum! I win! Best ice-cream in Tasmania I'd say. After enjoying that special and unexpected treat, I consulted with the map again and saw I had two options.
A)Go the scenic, scenic route with more hills and more k's to get to Moina.
B) Cut up the middle road that would put me 5 or so K's W of Sheffield and on a more direct route to Moina.
B! I knew there was a big hill on this road too and I wan't disappointed. Luckiliy, I took the jacket off before the starting the Gog Range climb because I was beat red and sweating up a storm right away. But after 3k's it was over and I was rushing downhill. Wee! The terrain was very undulatey (I know this is not a word, but I like the way it sounds) and on one short, steep hill I swear my front tire actually came off the road for a second! As I was riding up to the intersection I wanted I felt pretty pooped, realizing my honey and ice-cream energy had been used up long ago. Sheffield or no Sheffield, that was the question. Half of me said, "C'mon Kels, this is your last weekend in Tasmania, go see the murals!" while the other half said, "Who cares! It's at least an additional 10k's. If you don't go you could possibly cycle all the way to Cradle Mountain instead!" In the end, I decided that if the sign to Sheffield was less than 5k I'd go, more than 5k I wouldn't, and if it was exactly 5k, I'd stop and think about it. Sign: 4k. "Dangit!" But I went. Sat in the mural park and had 2 sandwiches, the orange/lemon cake from Alice and Janet's, and 5-6 dried pieces of papaya. Usually my energy would rebound pretty quickly, but not this time. I walked around to see the murals up close, then took a short walk around town to see some of the building murals. Some were really beautiful and others, bleh, really unrealistic. I left feeling like it was the sort of town you'd need at least a couple of days in to fully appreciate it.
Leaving Sheffield, with 30 or so K's till Moina is when the headwind really kicked in. It had been around earlier in the day, but hadn't really slowed me down much. Its a tie between strong headwind and corrugated, sandy, dirt road - I'm not sure which gets me crankier faster. Once the larger hills started rolling along, my energy kicked in - go figure! There were a few gradual climbs before a superb, windy zip down. "Wahooo!" I'd been warned about what was on the other side of the downhill: "a pleasant, 6k grind up." An hour going that slow and the talking to self gets more interesting. I was too out of breath to sing, so I recited bits and pieces of poems I could remember. A bird would chirp and, "oh hello, where are you, I can't really look now." A bull ant on its way across the street, "oh, hi! I'm so glad I didn't squish you!" Who knows what else I started talking to or about. Lots of "way to go! you are awesome! you can do this, if you did the Rossarden hill, you can do this!" This was the first big climb where I stood up a tiny bit to get going faster. On other big hills, I was too scared of running out of energy. Eventually, I could see it, the sun blasting its setting way through the trees and the cafe/hotel Janet had told me about, the seemingly only populated building in Moina!
It was 5pm and while I might have been able to make it UP to Cradle Mtn. before dark, I'd had enough. A guy from the hotel came out to see if I needed anything and I told him I was waiting for friends and was about to come in to see if I could wait inside with a hot chocolate. "We're actually closing for dinner. I can bring you one to go?" I said no thanks, he could save the cup and sat outside. An hour later it was dark and cold and finally the hotel people came out and said I could come inside, if I sat in the corner! Wouldn't want a dirty, smelly, mismatched cyclist to offend the proper dinner guests now would we! I ordered an overpriced hot chocolate and was happy to hear Janet and Alice pull up a half hour later. We loaded my bike on top of her car and were off to the Waldheim cabins at Cradle Mountain. Go figure that we would get stuck behind the "Night Bus" for the last 10 k's and so it took quite a long time to get there. "Night bus." Searches for wildlife with a massive, blinding spotlight on the side of the bus, another stupid thing!
Once we got to the cabins we were met by Brad, Ros, Sean (age 8 or 9), and Hugh (age 4, i think?). Everyone gathered in their cabin while I sat on my bunk in the other cabin getting a few things together. Almost went off the emotional deep end due to tiredness and hunger until after a few sobs I told myself, "Just cook some pasta. Eat!" And so I did and was restored to normal. The first and last time I wait two hours after riding to consume my food! I managed to somehow stay awake for a hilarious game of speed monopoly (Australia version) with Brad serving as the aggressive banker and time keeper: "Who's turn is it, roll! Okay, you owe him $140k. Ros, help him count his money. Janet, c'mon, your turn, lets keep this moving." And I'll just say, it is a sad world we live in when monopoly places the Great Barrier Reef as the cheapest piece of property on the board.
Deloraine to Moina
Total K's: 87.33
Avg Spd: 15.1 k/hr
Max Spd: 57.4 k/hr
Hours on bike: 5:44
KM Scary Hill Rating: 5/7
KM Scary Wind Rating: 3/7
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