A burnt toe, an encounter with the local yokels and Ben Lomond

Yes, it’s just another normal few weeks in the lives of Dazz and Leanne…

It was just another day at Lake Leake (Wednesday, a week and a half ago), nice enough to do some washing, but not nice enough to climb Mount Amos (read ‘windy’) when the kettle of hot water ended up splashing on Darren’s toes instead of heating the washing water from a chilly 10 degrees up to something more bearable. The first aid box was pulled out and thus ensued a twice daily routine of cleaning and changing dressings. That was the end of bushwalking plans for the next little while, but only the beginning of our recent adventures.

A few days later our quite little camp spot became a bit busier for the long weekend. One particular group of guys were staying in a shack and seemed to spend their days drinking and riding a motorbike up and down the road between the camp and the lake (sometimes with a helmet, and sometimes without). Apparently the police had been asked to have a drive through on the Friday night, in hope of settling them down, but we were asleep and happily oblivious.

Saturday afternoon they were back on the bike and had taken to riding in circles in the turn-around not far from our van. Although the noise was annoying, we were busying ourselves on our computers with the heater keeping us cosy. Just after dinner one of the guys, beverage in hand, strolled past our van towards the pay phone, but stopped in the middle of the road, apparently taking ‘Lake Leake’ a little too literally.

The hero of the house had just stepped outside and, feeling very protective of his bride who happened to notice what was occurring through the window, pointed out that there was a toilet just up the hill. He immediately realised the error of his way (i.e. making a comment to a drunk) but it was too late. Drunk dude took offense at someone ‘having a go’ at him. We quickly decided that the best case scenario would be that they would rock our roof once it got dark, and had no idea what the worst case scenario would be. Before long he returned to slowly walk past our van with his other mates, staring menacingly. Feeling quite intimidated, the hero of the house told his bride to call the police, while hurriedly putting kayaks on the roof and hooking up the van.

We pulled out just as they were returning from the direction of the pay phone, relieved to be on the move, but not sure if they would follow us, or if they were calling in reinforcements to meet us along the track. The turnoff from the highway was about 6kms away, and we thought we should wait for the police to explain what happened so they didn’t stop at other caravans and bring the wrath of the drunks onto innocent campers. We weren’t followed, the police woman was very understanding towards us, and we had a very restful sleep 30kms down the road at Campbell Town that night.

The toes held up admirably under the stress of packing up and driving (after having spent the previous four days up), but were still in no shape to be put in a boot. Pity, because by now the weather had cleared beautifully to cloudless blue skies…

We went to stay with some friends near Launceston on Sunday and did manage to make the most of the perfect afternoon by driving up Ben Lomond. The invalid hobbled around the village and sat in the car listening to the radio while the rest of us climbed to the summit.

By Monday evening the toes were beginning to get a different sort of pain, so we decided to go to the hospital and have it checked out to make sure it wasn’t getting infected. As we took off up the driveway the fan belt started screaming at us! Back down the driveway we went and jumped in our friends’ car and off again. A few hours later we arrived home with some antibiotics and instructions to go to the beach because paddling in sea water was going to be the best thing for it.

Our friend Deb was arriving on Wednesday, so we decided to slightly adjust our plans and head for Port Sorell. We can happily report that the fanbelt hasn’t even whispered since that night, we’ve had a few nice drives (including to Cradle Mountain), a lot of good food (afternoon tea at Anvers chocolate factory was a particular highlight), Deb’s tent didn’t leak even though we had torrential rain, there have been no drunks to pick a fight with, and the toe is healing well.

Stay tuned for our next adventures, which we are hoping will be a lot more boring and may even include a walk after next week!

Oh, and for the record, no edible fish were caught at Lake Leake, but there were no ‘pant related incidents’ either, so all in all, not a bad result.

Maria Island

Maria Island has been on our to-do list for a while. The walks we wanted to do would have been very hard to fit in with just a day trip on the ferry, so we decided it would be an overnight camp. Two days of sunny weather in a row is hard to plan for in Tassie, but we’ve been watching the weather carefully and made a ferry booking to go over on Thursday and come back Friday.

Thursday morning started off overcast as we began our hour and a half drive from Lake Leake to Triabunna. There were occasional peeks of sun through the clouds out to the east, and we were hopeful. It was a still morning and the ferry crossing was calm. The cloud seemed to thin as the day went on, and by mid afternoon it was lovely and sunny.

We set up camp, had lunch and wandered down to the Painted Cliffs. It was quite spectacular, but we wanted to hang around until the sun was lower in the sky and there were less shadows. As we were about to settle down for a nice sit-down for an hour or two the school group who were camped on the island began wandering down the beach for an afternoon of snorkelling and footy on the sand… we decided to walk a bit further down the track to find ourselves a quieter spot for the afternoon.

A couple of hours later we decided to have a look and see if the shadows had retreated – they had a little, but there were kids all in front of the cliffs – so much for photos! We dawdled along the beach back towards Darlington and at one point turned around and noticed that there seemed to be a general movement of kids around the cliffs. Sure enough, as we stood and watched they began to pack up and walk up the beach in small groups. We were in no rush to get back so one of us sat on the beach while the other took photos (what a surprise!) waiting for kids to catch up and pass us, then we wandered back down to the cliffs.

Unfortunately, by this time a bit of cloud had developed out to the west, and so the colours on the rocks weren’t as good as earlier. At least there were less shadows and the kids had gone.

Next morning the big walk was on the agenda – Bishop and Clerk, at about 600m elevation (and we were at sea level). We started off at a moderate pace, but he soon slowed down for photos, and then she slowed even further as the gradient grew steeper. It had been decided long ago that she has a small, old diesel engine that blows a lot of smoke going up hills, but put in first gear low range will eventually get to the top. She did eventually make it all the way to the top after a scramble up over some boulders that were almost as big as her dainty frame.

The views from the top were spectacular, but would have been even better with clear blue sky and less haze. Although it was windy at times on the way up it was lovely and calm at the top. Even though we didn’t get the photos we wanted (with clear blue sky in the background) we were thankful that it was fine and that the mountain wasn’t covered in cloud as it had been the previous afternoon.









On our way back to Darlington we did the loop via the Fossil Cliffs and some of the other historical sites on the island. It has a varied history – convicts, vineyards, cement factory – and this is reflected in the various buildings and ruins that remain. Although the history is interesting we take more pleasure in enjoying God’s creation – the stunning scenery, rock pools full of shells and different types of sea weed, the colour of the sun on the landscape at various times of the day, and the Cape Barren geese, wombats, wallabies and Tasmanian native hens that roamed around the camp ground.








Just as we were leaving the sun came out and the sky was blue… but the wind also came up! Let’s just say it wasn’t a pleasant ferry trip home, but no one lost their lunch.

‘Bearing’ the hardships of life on the road

On the afternoon of our arrival at Lake Leake I decided to do some washing. Buckets arranged, and with plunger in hand, I sat down on the little stool to start agitating the water. I was sitting behind the car, and as I looked up noticed what looked like oil in the right rear wheel rim. The man of the house, car and van had been pottering around so I thought (hoped!) maybe he had spilled some water on the rim, and cautiously asked ‘Is that oil in that wheel rim?’

I plunged and sloshed away as he inspected. ‘Hhhmmmm.’ An unfortunate affirmative. ‘Wheel bearing?’ I ventured. ‘Looks like it’. Both our minds had immediately gone back to Jugiong and our unscheduled week of repairs that had included the other wheel bearing. So off he went up to the caretaker to get the number of a mechanic.

The first guy he called (Tony) was booked up for over a week, but he gave Dazz another number. Gordon said he’d have time to look at it, so ordered the part. He told us to call back at 1pm the next day to see if it had arrived on the courier. It had, so we prepared for the 30km drive back to Campbell Town.

How does one prepare for a trip to the mechanic that’s greater than walking distance from your place of abode? By packing an overnight bag, of course. Yes, he had the part, but just about every time we get something fixed the wrong part is ordered or sent, or there is some other unexpected delay. So, when you expect the unexpected you pack an overnight bag.

‘The wheel shouldn’t fall off, should it?’ ‘Nahhh, should be right. Just take it easy though.’ So we did.

Arriving at Gordon’s, we found a big shed, lots of cars in various states of disrepair and more engine bits and scrap metal than would fit inside the big shed. We could only presume that his fleecy slippers had steel caps…

He shifted the vehicle he was working on and put ours up on the hoist and we set off for a walking tour of Campbell Town for a few hours. The walking tour took less than an hour, so we settled for a lie down on the grass under a big, shady birch tree instead. As we wandered back to Gordon’s Dazz tried to bet me $50 that the wrong part had been sent. I was too smart to take that kind of a bet, which was lucky because as we walked up to the shed we could see the wheel was still off.

‘How’s it going?’ ‘Good… Oh… and bad.’ ‘Really?’ There was no surprise in Dazz’s voice.

‘They sent the wrong part’ was the bad news, but the good news was that the right one was on the courier and should be here in an hour. He’d left the old bearing in though, so if there was a problem we’d still be able to get back to camp.

Meanwhile, he’d changed the oil and greased the drive train as Dazz had requested. (It was lucky that Dazz didn’t leave Gordon’s with the old oil filter inserted up his rear end, as that was what Gordon reckoned should be done with the filter to whomever had put the last one on. It was on so tight that he crushed it getting it off! Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on your perspective) Gordon had forgotten all about the oil filter by the time we eventually left at 8:15pm…)

By the time the courier arrived so had Tony (the other mechanic). He’d finished for the day, and being mates with Gordon, had popped around to say g’day. He sat and chatted as Gordon inspected each part of the new bearing kit to ensure that it would all fit. Once satisfied he started pulling out the old one. From the other side of the shed we couldn’t see exactly what was happening during the removal process, but it did involve a lot of banging of metal on metal and metal on concrete, some grinding, a blow torch, and a good deal of swearing. All the while we were happily chatting about how blog worthy this whole event was.

Tony had become very much involved in the job that he was too busy for, but couldn’t just stand by and watch his mate struggle. The whole process probably took about an hour, and Gordon didn’t even set his safety slippers on fire! Tony showed us the old bearing which seemed like it had probably split a long time ago and part of it was spinning inside the housing and was quite worn (maybe this was the source of the sporadic mystery noise that no one has been able to identify and fix!) They both had a smoke while the axle and associated bits were put in an old tin of oil to cool down – the oil bubbled for quite a long time – and then began the reassembly process.

So, with light at the end of the tunnel, and Gordon trying to put the disk brake back in, Tony wandered over to give him a hand and noticed that the backing plate was on the wrong side. On most other cars it’s a simple matter of undoing a bolt and spinning it around, but not the Jackaroo (and we thought it was only Peugeots that were engineered by helper monkeys!). Thus ensued another hour of drilling and bashing and grinding and swearing as they re-engineered the thing to allow it to spin, because that was the quicker and safer option than trying to get the bearing out again without damaging it…

Finally, six hours and $250 later we were on our way. We thought that was a bargain for all that work and afternoon of entertainment for us, not to mention the reading pleasure of all of our blog followers. Thanks Gordon and Tony!

Home!

Yes, Tassie is home at the moment. You know how the old saying goes, ‘Home is where your caravan is.’ It was so nice to sleep in our own bed after a month of living out of backpacks.

Of course, life wouldn’t be quite right for us if there weren’t a few dramas. The car battery was dead as a doornail (in the rush of leaving no one thought to disconnect it!) and needed a special heavy duty charger to revive it. Our friend’s dad was able to help us out with that one. The heat wave a few weeks ago also took its toll on a few things – the chocolate supply is a little worse for wear, and the very attractive plastic flap siliconed above the back window of the van to stop water leaking in had half fallen off. At least Dazz has his ‘back of car shed’ at his disposal to fix it.

We had intended to go to Lake Leake after leaving our friends’ place, just south of Launceston, but only made it as far as Evandale (yes, that was about 10kms!). We’ve fitted right back in to changing plans at the last minute and going slow. We had a nice walk around the town, enjoying the old buildings, gardens and even a few plums that were hanging over a fence!

We did make it all the way to Lake Leake today, and will probably stay here a while – powered sites for only $10/night, with kayaking and trout fishing less than 100m from our front door. I’d better brush up on the fish whistle…

Real and Reverse Sarcasm

It all began about four weeks ago as we were driving from Penguin to Stanley, caravan in tow. The first traffic light we came across in Burnie was red. Darren, along with all members of his family, has an almost pathological hatred of red lights, along with an uncanny ability to turn just about any light red as they approach. It’s known as the family curse. With his niece and nephew in the car too, I knew it would be a very tedious trip, full of moaning and groaning at each red light. Something had to be done.

‘Reverse psychology’, I announced. ‘I love red lights.’ ‘A great chance to rest and relax.’ And so we started cheering for red lights. I think we only had one other red light during the entire trip (but a lot of groaning and moaning each time we went through a green one!)

Last week we stayed with Darren’s sister in Brisbane (said niece and nephew’s parents). Amongst other interesting reports (we apparently made the kids go to bed at 6:30 or 7:30pm – they hadn’t changed their clocks from Qld time, and since it was still daylight at 9:30pm in Tassie they were really confused about what time it actually was!) we heard about ‘reverse sarcasm’. The name stuck, and our little trick for beating red lights has since been passed on to the rest of the extended family.

We ate outside most evenings while in Brisbane, serving ourselves from a bench beside the BBQ. One evening Miss 13 said in the sweetest of voices, ‘We’re lining up oldest to youngest, so you should go to the back of the line Aunty Barb.’ Everyone went ‘ooohh’ thinking Miss 13 was so smooth. Aunty Barb, taken aback by the compliment, responded ‘Was that reverse sarcasm?’
As cool and quick as anything, and with the best of intentions, Miss 13 countered, ‘No, that was REAL sarcasm’.

The whole place erupted in laughter, and we’ve been laughing ever since. Miss 13 will go down in family history as the originator of a family saying that will, no doubt, last a long, long time, causing great hilarity and jocularity whenever it is recounted.

Up until that time a remark I made earlier in the week about something being generic (instead of genetic) had been popping up regularly in conversation. Intentionally playing with words, or picking up on other’s misuse of words, is definitely 'generic' in this family!!

Sad News

Darren's dad passed away last Thursday (15th January). He had battled pneumonia around Christmas time and had also lost a lot of weight over the past few months. The sadness is mixed with relief, though, as he is now free from his difficult struggle with dementia.

We flew back to Brisbane on Friday and are preparing for the funeral on Thursday 22nd at 11:30am. We are enjoying this unexpected time with family, in spite of the circumstances, and are also looking forward to seeing some of the Aunties and Uncles. While up here we will also spend some time in Toowoomba, and do our next lot of marking up there during the first two weeks of February.

When we return to Tassie we’ll have about six weeks to ‘finish off’ the last few things on the list. I know that for most people six weeks is more than enough time to see all of Tassie, but not for us! The big things still on the list are Maria Island, Meander Falls, a few walks around Launceston, Ben Lomond and Walls of Jerusalem. It’s looking like a busy few weeks…

Happy Christmas and New Year!

We had a great Christmas with the family, and then a busy but fun time when Dazz’s niece and nephew flew down for the week. We’re marking for a few days now (I’m just taking a break to do photos!!) before our last few days with the family. Here’s a selection of photos from the last few weeks (in no particular order - Christmas, the beach at Penguin, Creative Paper, Wings Wildlife World,

Mole Creek Caves, Devils Gullet Lookout, The Honey Farm, Tasmazia, Cradle Mountain).

Tahune Airwalk

The Airwalk and Swinging Bridges were amazing. The day we went was Ellie’s birthday and she pronounced it 'my best birthday in my entire life' (she is now 6). The swinging bridge was her favourite, but she also braved the cantilever by herself a second time for Uncle Dazza and Pa to take photos.

Mt Wellington

We gave Anita & Paul a taste of bushwalking in Tassie by doing the Organ Pipe walk on Mt Wellington. Mum & Dad had taken the kids for the day, but we both happened to be at the top of the mountain at the same time!

Port Arthur

We collected some mussels and oysters off the rocks at Bruny Island the day we left, and they proved to be a big hit with everyone after a hard day of sightseeing on the Tasman Peninsula the following day.









We did the historic site in our wet weather gear. Nathan’s favourite thing was the leg irons, and Ellie liked the flowers and the two-headed stuffed Tassie Devil at the gift shop (she thought we were

at a zoo!).