Tuesday, January 20, 2009

So Long, Malvern

I don't know if I mentionned this already or not, but my bike through our two month trip here in Australia was a Malvern Star. I had never heard of a Malvern before I bought it new for less than $300 at Brunswick Street Cycles in Melbourne, but it turned out to be an interesting choice.

Malvern was to Australia what Schwinn is to the US -- an iconic bike that has grown through the years. The company was founded around 1902 and faithfully made quality bikes for decades before falling into a bit of a slump. A few years ago they relaunched the brand with higher quality bikes aimed at the low-price bracket. Many people stopped me on sidewalks and in campgrounds to tell me they recalled fondly their Malverns from growing up in the 1940s and 1950s.

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The Malvern served me well through the rest of our ride in Tasmania. After riding into Hobart, the state capital, we made a loop, pedalling along the Derwent River upstream into the Southern Highlands. Wanting to get away from the shore crowds, we headed up to Mt. Field National Park, which turned out to be a real gem.

Mt. Field, at about 4,500 feet, is one of the highest peaks in Tasmania. At the base of the mountain is a visitor center, short walks to waterfalls, a cafe and a campground, where we spent two nights communing with, and later fending off, wallabies.

From the campground, at 600 feet above sea level, a road climbs 10 miles to a chain of alpine lakes and through four distinct forest types, from continental at the base -- which was home to 300 foot tall swamp gums -- to tundra.

At the top of the mountain was a ski area, alternately known as Mt. Field and Mt. Mawson (the ski area actually is on Mt. Mawson). This was one of just two ski areas in Tasmania, and the only one I have ever been to where you could not drive to the base -- you drive to a parking lot and hike uphill for about half an hour to get to the lifts. The area has two parts ... the main part has a few very simple cabins and three rope tows. One tow was purely beginner while the other two ran parallel roughly 200 vertical feet uphill to more difficult terrain. One of the tows went to the summit of Mawson, which is really a broad plateau. It's hard to imagine this area getting enough snow to ski, as it's entirely above treeline and is little more than a jumble of boulders and a tangle of sharp shrubs. I boulder hopped to the summit for the view north over miles and miles of jagged peaks. From the summit I could see the ski area's other 'area' -- a much steeper rope tow about a mile away, also accessed only by hiking. The mountains around had some small patches of snow on them.

From Field we pedalled across the mountains headed north but got shut down by one of Tasmania's rare hot days -- 90 degrees with a stiff wind. While not hot by American standards we were not used to the heat or the dry winds and stopped up short in a very small town. The next day we pedalled back to the Derwent, to New Norfolk, and the day after went to Hobart. Officially we pedalled 2,203 km and climbed 74,565 vertical feet.

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When we were in Hobart the week before we amazingly ran into Ben and Meg, whom we shared a LandCruiser with in Bolivia. We were walking through the botanical gardens when Meg shounted Laura? Jeff? They were in town for Meg's sister's wedding. Once we had pedalled back they picked us up in a brand new Citroen and took us to Port Arthur for the day, a 50-mile trip which was our first time in a car since being dropped off at the Atlanta airport months ago. Port Arthur was an interesting trip, and one which would have taken days if we'd gone on bikes. Now a world heritage site candidate, it was once one of the primary prisons for convicts brought to Australia from the UK.

That brought to an end our biking trip and began a weird retracing of our steps back to Sydney. The next day we took a bus to Devonport, traversing the center of the island. It was fun to see bits and pieces of where our bike trip had crossed this bus trip over the past four weeks. The next morning we boarded the Spirit of Tasmania for the crossing of Bass Strait. We pedalled of the big boat on a bucolic Sunday afternoon. Melbourne is one of the world's beautiful cities and cycling along the beach, through the CBD and into the burbs was a magnificent close to this portion of the trip. We cycled out to Danielle and Josh's house, two bikers we had met in Tasmania and offered us a place to crash. Monday we pedalled back to Brunswick Street and I sold the Malvern and Laura sold her Giant. Both bikes were pretty well used by this point. I got about 60 percent of what I paid for mine and Laura about 30 percent for hers. We then posted home a giant package with our tent, sleeping pads and panniers and then jumped on a Greyhound for the journey back across Victoria and New South Wales to Sydney, where we are now.

Sydney is a grand city and a suitable setting off point for part two of our trip -- Bali.

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