It was terrible to wake up after a good nights sleep to sound of heavy rain. The trip had been good to us but it was a dampner on the last day to have to ride to Devonport under a black cloud (literally). We spent the best part of preparation ripping the lambswool off the seat and putting on wet weather gear.

Our plan was to go to the Cataract Gorge located in the centre of town before heading back to get on the boat. We jumped on the bike and refuelled and headed up the side of the hill in Launceston to the car park of the Gorge. The issue we had now was that it was raining, we had all our gear and a walk ahead of us. was this going to happen. Unfortunately no. It was not the happiest of ideas to be clumping around in wet riding gear for a bush walk carrying our electronics bag.

We kept going and simply headed towards Devonport. It was like the old Munsters cartoon as we drove along the highway and had a black cloud looming over our head which continued to pound us for every dry moment we had the previous days. The visor was fogging up and this meant having to lift it up to maintain visibility. Then the water came in through the visor onto my glassess underneath. Ria had tied her ponytail to high and said it felt like she had a walnut under her helmet, It was difficult to find a safe location on the freeway to stop as it had trucks and cars screaming along spraying water everywhere.

Eventually I found a little turn out where the hair was adjusted and the helmet screens wiped and it was back on board. We got stuck behind this zoomer who had some crappy old ute pulling a huge boat and was rolling along at 65 klms an hour. The road had gone back to single lane now and typically there was no opportunity to pass due to double lines. If there was ever a shortage of white luminous paint in the world it is because Tassie has used it all ensuring no-one passes on their roads. I do not know what possesses people to hook up something oversized to a vehicle which is clearly way to small to pull it and then sit on 65 in a 110 zone with a stream of 30 cars behind.

Anyway I finally got my opportunity to over exaggerate my overtaking of this punce and deliver the withering stare to him. Typically he just stared straight ahead like it was nothing.

Arrived in Devonport and found a little cafe in the main drag where we could have a nice brunch. You can count yourself very special to park in Devonport as the parking spaces go for a high price. The local council are obviously trying to pay off the national debt in one foul swoop through this system. Anyway we had four hours to kill so we paid about $6.00 for 2.5 hours before we decided to move on again.

We went around to the local McDonals to borrow the dunny before heading up to a small lighthouse situated through a caravan park. The rain had ceased mostly and we sat and looked out over the ocean. There was a swimming hole called "The Hat" which had a rough bit of water smacking against the rocks. A young 27 year old boy Luke Jacobs had died there some years before attemtping to save a drowning friend. They had a chair and plaque located there in his honour. Surprisingly enough there were another 4 young boys now swimming in the swirling ocean without any concern whatsoever.

So we sat there looking out over the Bass Straight as I silently prayed the calmer waters would appear prior to our departure on the Ferry later that evening.

We made our way to the boarding lanes for the ferry and parked our bike under a small cover provided for motorcycles awaiting to get onto the ferry. We parked next to two other BMWs which had German plates and world wide stickers on their panniers. Made me feel under travelled looking at them. One was the same model as mine and the other was a smaller 650 cc dual sports model.

We parked and went to a small cafe. The German riders were nowhere to be seen at this stage.

After returning to our bikes later on we took off our wet gear as it wouldnt be needed for the short ride on the ferry.