One hundred and sixty five kilometres lay in front of us today. This, as it transpired, became the second longest trip we did in one day during our entire Tasmanian stay... ......there is not much distance between Tassie towns!
As we drove out of Pyengana and rejoined the Tasman Highway, I knew that the comfort I had enjoyed on the relatively flat east coast section was about to become a thing of the past. The road to Weldborough and thence on to Scottsdale winds its way steeply up and down through the north-east mountains.
We had been cautioned that for those like us who were towing over three tonnes, this is one of the more challenging highways in the state.....spot on!
But at least it was easy going to begin with as we rolled westwards through the Pyengana valley
where, on one dairy, the spirit of the approaching Xmas was on display in a most creative fashion.
Believe me when I say that there was never a truer road sign erected. The only error was that the curves in the arrow were far more benign that the highway ahead of us! I need no encouragement to slow down.
As in the past, these photos do not reflect the real nature of the road which became increasingly narrow, steep and winding
as it climbed up through the thick forest reserves of this part of north-east Tasmania.
Massed tree ferns flourished in the wet cool climate of these ranges,
and every so often, we were rewarded with spectacular views over the edge to the valleys below.
After a hard slog uphill for fifteen minutes or more, respite came in the form of this upland plateau,
where the 'navigator-photographer' felt the urge to once more indulge her peculiar passion for photos of old Tassie sheds!
This respite was relatively short-lived however,
and the occasional (still marvellous) panoramic view
was now coming at a price......a snail's speed descent
down a very difficult steep, narrow
and sharply winding section of the road off the first ridge. I was relieved that this road is little used by large trucks (probably for a very good reason).
At the bottom of the Weldborough Pass we had another short respite as we drove into and beyond Weldborough with its famous old pub (which will be the subject of a much more detailed visit later)
and again began another climb
which was soon followed by the inevitable descent, this time as we crossed into the Dorset area and passed the last of the ferns and tall timber on this stretch of the highway.
As we again traversed a reasonably flat section of land, a new crop came into view, one which had us puzzled for a while. Then we spotted the 'Keep Out' sign hanging on the rather insignificant looking boundary fence. Of course........this was a field of opium poppies, a crop which is grown quite widely across the part of the island.
After the poppy fields came the hay paddocks
after which we began another winding descent, this time into the small old tin mining town of Derby
which we could see nestled along the Ringarooma River below the hills in the distance.
The final descent into the town was heralded by this enormous piece of rock art, where some clever soul realised the that the shape of this rock very closely resembled the head of a fish....and set to with paints and brush to produce this stunning result. Oh, and yes, the Ringarooma River is a very good trout stream!
The tin mines of Derby have long closed but this pretty and historic town has resurrected itself grandly.
You might just be able to make out the outline of a cyclist on the front verandah roof of the shop on the left in the main street. It is there for a very good reason. Cycling is big, very big, in Derby, Weldborough and other towns nearby.
World class mountain bike tracks and less demanding cycling trails now criss-cross this entire region. They attract devotees on two wheels from all over the State, the country and indeed the world. And of course this has spawned a need for accommodation of all types ranging from camping through pub stays to quite up-market B&B's.
And as if to prove the point, as we drove past the charming old Dorset Hotel, the second of Derby's two pubs, here was a chap hard at it, complete with back pack and other necessary accoutrements. We were to see many more of these hardy souls when we over-nighted at the Weldborough pub in March.
Less than ten kilometres on from Derby the highway dipped down into Branxholm
where the grand looking two storey hotel and nearby good camp ground went immediately onto our list for a return visit (but which sadly we did not get around to doing.....this time!)
From here the road took us through more beautiful, typically north-eastern Tasmanian grazing and farming country
and past more fields of flowering poppies
before we made our way through the largish town of Scottsdale. This is the central service town for the Dorset area, a district where the fertile soil and mild climate are idea for dairy farming, growing potatoes and poppies (as we had seen) and for the management of large eucalypt and pine plantations, some of which we had already driven through.
Just beyond central Scottsdale we left the Tasman Highway and joined the B81, the road which would take us the remaining 70 kms or so into Launceston through ongoing pretty and productive countryside.
The B81 was one of two alternative routes we could have taken from Scottsdale to 'Lonnie' (as it is universally known here). Rather by chance than design we chose the easier of them. As we were to learn later, some 20 kms south of Scottsdale the Tasman Highway traverses a mountain ridge known as The Sideling, where the towing challenges presented by the Weldborough Pass could be viewed as a training exercise....we did it much later on our Tassie tour but that will be a tale for mid March.
As it as we did have the odd hill or two to negotiate, but these were nothing compared to the hillside hijinks of the other road.
One of the fleeting highlights of this part of our journey came in the small country town of Lillydale. Here the good townsfolk decided that the street poles needed to be spruced up, and that's exactly what they have managed to do.
Unfortunately our plan to briefly wander these streets for a closer look than this one photo rather poorly presents, was contingent on my ability to find a safe and convenient parking spot. This plan was soundly stymied by the fact that none presented in the main street, and by the time we had traversed the town there was no safe turning area on the highway, but we did try!
It was but a few minutes from Lillydale that some of the homes on the slopes of the far side of the Tamar Valley came into view (albeit somewhat dully in the distant haze).
Our first distant peek at Launceston soon morphed into being in the thick of things
as we made our way through the heart of this large Tasmanian town and onto York Street
which took us directly onto the West Tamar Highway, our route to our destination at Rosevears. All our planning had told us this was between Legana and Exeter....we seemed to be on the right track.
Over the next couple of weeks we were to travel this road many times, but today we had our first look at several of the grand Launceston homes which stand almost somewhat haughtily on the western bank of the Tamar River (which is not really a river at all, but that too is a story for another day).
Twenty minutes later our trusty electronic navigator barked, "Right turn ahead", and there we were nosing our way down Bradys Lookout Road, Rosevears, with the waters of the Tamar a blue strip in front of us and a gateway soon to beckon to us on our right.
We had arrived at the home of our good friends Judy and Gavin where we were to spend the next twelve days, including, as a result of their most kind invitation to join them and their family, the big day itself on 25 December.
In my next, our home away from home north of Launceston, wonderful views, some strange neighbours and a marvellous Xmas.
At the bottom of the Weldborough Pass we had another short respite as we drove into and beyond Weldborough with its famous old pub (which will be the subject of a much more detailed visit later)
and again began another climb
which was soon followed by the inevitable descent, this time as we crossed into the Dorset area and passed the last of the ferns and tall timber on this stretch of the highway.
As we again traversed a reasonably flat section of land, a new crop came into view, one which had us puzzled for a while. Then we spotted the 'Keep Out' sign hanging on the rather insignificant looking boundary fence. Of course........this was a field of opium poppies, a crop which is grown quite widely across the part of the island.
After the poppy fields came the hay paddocks
after which we began another winding descent, this time into the small old tin mining town of Derby
which we could see nestled along the Ringarooma River below the hills in the distance.
The final descent into the town was heralded by this enormous piece of rock art, where some clever soul realised the that the shape of this rock very closely resembled the head of a fish....and set to with paints and brush to produce this stunning result. Oh, and yes, the Ringarooma River is a very good trout stream!
The tin mines of Derby have long closed but this pretty and historic town has resurrected itself grandly.You might just be able to make out the outline of a cyclist on the front verandah roof of the shop on the left in the main street. It is there for a very good reason. Cycling is big, very big, in Derby, Weldborough and other towns nearby.
World class mountain bike tracks and less demanding cycling trails now criss-cross this entire region. They attract devotees on two wheels from all over the State, the country and indeed the world. And of course this has spawned a need for accommodation of all types ranging from camping through pub stays to quite up-market B&B's.
And as if to prove the point, as we drove past the charming old Dorset Hotel, the second of Derby's two pubs, here was a chap hard at it, complete with back pack and other necessary accoutrements. We were to see many more of these hardy souls when we over-nighted at the Weldborough pub in March.
Less than ten kilometres on from Derby the highway dipped down into Branxholm
where the grand looking two storey hotel and nearby good camp ground went immediately onto our list for a return visit (but which sadly we did not get around to doing.....this time!)
From here the road took us through more beautiful, typically north-eastern Tasmanian grazing and farming country
and past more fields of flowering poppies
before we made our way through the largish town of Scottsdale. This is the central service town for the Dorset area, a district where the fertile soil and mild climate are idea for dairy farming, growing potatoes and poppies (as we had seen) and for the management of large eucalypt and pine plantations, some of which we had already driven through.
Just beyond central Scottsdale we left the Tasman Highway and joined the B81, the road which would take us the remaining 70 kms or so into Launceston through ongoing pretty and productive countryside.
The B81 was one of two alternative routes we could have taken from Scottsdale to 'Lonnie' (as it is universally known here). Rather by chance than design we chose the easier of them. As we were to learn later, some 20 kms south of Scottsdale the Tasman Highway traverses a mountain ridge known as The Sideling, where the towing challenges presented by the Weldborough Pass could be viewed as a training exercise....we did it much later on our Tassie tour but that will be a tale for mid March.
As it as we did have the odd hill or two to negotiate, but these were nothing compared to the hillside hijinks of the other road.
One of the fleeting highlights of this part of our journey came in the small country town of Lillydale. Here the good townsfolk decided that the street poles needed to be spruced up, and that's exactly what they have managed to do.
Unfortunately our plan to briefly wander these streets for a closer look than this one photo rather poorly presents, was contingent on my ability to find a safe and convenient parking spot. This plan was soundly stymied by the fact that none presented in the main street, and by the time we had traversed the town there was no safe turning area on the highway, but we did try!
It was but a few minutes from Lillydale that some of the homes on the slopes of the far side of the Tamar Valley came into view (albeit somewhat dully in the distant haze).
Our first distant peek at Launceston soon morphed into being in the thick of things
as we made our way through the heart of this large Tasmanian town and onto York Street
which took us directly onto the West Tamar Highway, our route to our destination at Rosevears. All our planning had told us this was between Legana and Exeter....we seemed to be on the right track.
Over the next couple of weeks we were to travel this road many times, but today we had our first look at several of the grand Launceston homes which stand almost somewhat haughtily on the western bank of the Tamar River (which is not really a river at all, but that too is a story for another day).
Twenty minutes later our trusty electronic navigator barked, "Right turn ahead", and there we were nosing our way down Bradys Lookout Road, Rosevears, with the waters of the Tamar a blue strip in front of us and a gateway soon to beckon to us on our right.
We had arrived at the home of our good friends Judy and Gavin where we were to spend the next twelve days, including, as a result of their most kind invitation to join them and their family, the big day itself on 25 December.
In my next, our home away from home north of Launceston, wonderful views, some strange neighbours and a marvellous Xmas.
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