two-wheeling with the devil

Get on your bike for an adventure with nature from Hobart to Launceston

WORDS SARAH WOODS

Hit the hills of Hobart with Island Cycle Tours, which have a
range of itineraries of varying duration across the island state
Photo: Tourism Tasmania/Chris Crerar

It was a seductive proposition: a chance to explore a wave-carved atoll blessed with old-growth eucalyptus, button-grass moorlands and glacial valleys virtually untroubled since the last ice age. The catch was I’d be on a bike, but that just intrigued me more. And so I arrived in Tasmania with cycle clips at the ready.

In his memoir of a Tasmanian childhood, Peter Conrad wrote: “We were an offshore island off the shore of an offshore continent, victims of a twofold alienation”. The result is an eye-popping ecosystem of untamed moss-clad woodlands, soaring ferns and an oddball assortment of bizarre creatures. Much of the island is protected with the Tasmanian Wilderness World Heritage Area, recognised by UNESCO in 1982 for its outstanding natural and cultural value. Today, to travel Tasmania is to experience a jewel-box of natural treasures. And in crowd-free Tasmania, where the roads are refreshingly free of congestion and potholes, lumps and bumps, a bicycle is the perfect way to travel.

Soak up the idyllic scenery of
Tarraleah
Photo: Tourism
Tasmania/Janet HodgsonMy journey begins in Hobart where it’s hot; not what I’d expected from Australia’s most rain-drenched state. At 7am the road is already a blurry haze as I stroll around Tasmania’s capital, a deepwater port centred on Sullivans Cove at the base of brooding Mount Wellington. Hobart is Australia’s second-oldest urban settlement; a handsome town dotted with clapboard houses, Georgian sandstone buildings and statues of British dignitaries. Now a funky waterfront quarter has joined the city’s colonial core, adding lovingly-restored warehouse bars and floating restaurants to Hobart’s architectural mix.

At roughly the same size as Switzerland, Tasmania offers plenty of cycling possibilities. I have chosen to journey across the island to the rugged western coast. I’ll be in the saddle for a week covering 70-80km per day – hardly the Tour de France, but a testing schedule nonetheless. I unfurl a map and brace myself for the physical challenge ahead. I hit the inner-city Cycleway with a wobble. Launceston, here I come!

The Tasmanian waratah
Photo: Owen HughesThankfully, the 80km route north-west from Hobart to the sleepy town of Hamilton is awash with colour; a boon for cyclists like me who need constant visual stimulation to dull the ache of tired limbs. From Hobart’s Cenotaph area, the Cycleway runs along an old railway line next to the water in a beautiful paved stretch. Then the countryside takes over to offer pastures of sweet-smelling wildflowers, meandering creeks and lush valleys. Parts of me are sore and chafed, but I make it in one piece to sleepy Hamilton, a charming settlement seemingly lost in time. Blessed with 1830s faded good looks, the town was built by convict labour. Today it makes an excellent base from which to trek the leafy trails of Mount Field National Park.

Continuing north from Hamilton, I set my sights on Tarraleah and earmark Ouse for a pit-stop. A strong Scots heritage prevails in the aptly-named Central Highlands and mist-shrouded Ouse has a Brigadoon-style feel to it, set among wind-swept trees and hardy scrub. My calves begin to ache and I need a Band Aid for a badly blistered toe.

A fatigue-beating bar of homespun Cadbury chocolate provides a burst of energy as I criss-cross streams and bushland. Free from the hubbub of noise pollution, I imbibe the luxury of silence and revel in the only audible sound: my own breath. No wonder the Tasmanian wilderness is often described as “the elixir of our souls”. At Tarraleah, I dump my bike at the Tarraleah Highland Villas and enjoy a stroll. After a robust meal of fish pie and some fine Tasmanian pinot gris, I fall into a deep slumber.

Be renewed by Cataract Gorge
Photo: Bob EngischFortified by a stack of pancakes, I survive the gruelling hills out of Tarraleah and recover to enjoy the thrills of a rapid descent from Mount Arrowsmith. A succession of ups-and-downs deposit me at the old mining district on Mount Owen where I face the final muscle-pounding ascent of the day. The upside is a white-knuckle, 7km down-hill, blood-pumper into Queenstown, along a winding moonscape in which there are 99 terrifying bends. Sensibly I opt to complete the remaining 48kms to Strahan by steam train and with my bike safely stored in the guard’s van, I make the most of the AU$99 ticket.

The next day, I potter around Strahan’s pretty harbour to snap up a few oyster-shell souvenirs. After a downhill chase from Mount Murchison I sprint into the village of Tullah where I hop aboard a shuttle bus to spare my battered limbs. The view across Dove Lake to Cradle Mountain is a highlight, with the Dove Lake Loop Track an excellent trek through stunning rainforest against mountain slopes.

The famous Overland Track also begins from here; a demanding feat of physical endurance, it’s one of Australia’s premier wilderness walks. Some of the world’s largest carnivorous marsupials inhabit these regions, including the spotted-tail quoll and the eastern quoll – two of the world’s only three surviving monotremes. I, however, have my eyes peeled for a shy Tasmanian devil; a creature rarely seen by humans in the wild since a rare cancer decimated its numbers.

Leaving the banks of the Meander River behind, I relish an easy day’s cycling through crimson poppy fields. I whizz along and can’t help but feel a sense of achievement at the progress I’m making. I take a break at the elegant English-style town of Westbury, which boasts beautiful old buildings and the homely Westbury Tea Room, where amid floral china and chintz I idle away an hour devouring jam-and-cream scones.

Kings Bridge, Launceston, is
the perfect spot to take a
breather after your cross-
country adventure
Photo: Tourism Tasmania/
Rob BurnettMy euphoric get-up-and-go appears to have got-up-and-gone – a concern with more than 32km left to go. After adjusting my waistband, I lower my head, grit my teeth and feebly tap the pedals. Suffering the humiliation of being passed at speed by a compatriot in super-swish garb, I can only gasp in awe as he whooshes by in a cloud of dust.

Finally, I arrive triumphantly in Launceston. My goal is picturesque Cataract Gorge, where at the Gorge Restaurant & Basin Café I dine on mussels while admiring the flowering gardens, peacocks and the sound of the South Esk River. The Tasmanian devil may have eluded me, but I feel privileged to have experienced this island’s magic – and have the blisters as a badge of honour to prove it.

Find It:
Island Cycle Tours
204 New Town Rd, Hobart, tel: +61 (3) 6228 4255
Cadbury Schweppes Chocolate Factory
Cadbury Rd, Claremont, tel: +61 1800 627 367
Tarraleah Highland Villas
Whitewater Way, Tarraleah, tel: +61 (3) 6289 1199
Westbury Tea Room
10 Bass Highway, Westbury, tel: +61 (3) 6393 1840
Gorge Restaurant & Basin Café
Cataract Gorge Reserve Basin Rd, Launceston, tel: +61 (3) 6331 5222