TT Post-Ride Reflection, pt. II: People Who Were Nice To Me

Irene: The hostess with the mostess, at Smuggler’s Rest in Dover. Dinners, dogs, days zero, one, and the first bit of two of the TT.

Joyce: The jiujitsu gal who drove me from Hobart back to the Trail after Booster’s repair. Huge extra credit for pulling a U-turn shortly thereafter to give me the tentpoles still in her back seat.

Jan and Carmel: A lovely pair who stopped to talk in Poatina. We both stopped off for a bite to eat, only to learn Australia was observing a one-off national holiday to remember Queen Elizabeth. Jan and Carmel worried about where I’d find food so they gave me their trail mix.

Glen and Pancho the Mad Mexican: An Aussie ex-cop doing retirement the right way: roaming the land in his campervan with his ten-year-old chihuahua. Glen was the better conversationalist but Pancho was better at snuggling. Glen gave me food too, and gave me good advice about where to watch the Australian Football League finals.

Bertrand and Callum: The cops who gave me a lift off the Wellington Range. I would be remiss if I didn’t mention Bertrand was right and Callum was wrong about whether to go left (into the car-eating mudhole) or right (up the hill and around the mudhole). But hey, we got unstuck without needing the winch.

Audrey: Proprietor of The Bears Went Over The Mountain. She rented me a room despite not being open for business. Despite the absence of Chicago Bears memorabilia, her place is still an excellent B&B&B.

Shane: Proprietor of the Bronte Park General Store. Gave me free camping, free firewood, and sold me the best pair of gloves I own.

Lindsay and Chandell: Their farm in Liffey is right on the Tasmanian Trail, so I camped on their land. I saw they had chickens roaming about so I asked if I could buy a dozen eggs. She just gave them to me, because this is Tasmania. Then, because this is Tasmania, he drove to the general store, bought bread, margarine, potatoes, and a chunk of pumpkin, and then lit me a fire on his gigantic Mad Max-looking barbecue. Lindsay said if he had them eggs he’d fry them up with some spuds and maybe a bit of pumpkin, so here’s a fry pan and any groceries you don’t use, just leave them in the pizza oven. Because of course he has an 8’ tall pizza oven next to the barbecue because why wouldn’t you?

Oh, and then the next morning he insists on driving me back to said general store because riding there and back would add 14 km to my day. Because Tasmania.

Dakota and John: Officers of the Tasmanian Trail Association. Both had helpful advice and both asked me to check in so they’d know I’m safe. (I think they have not read this blog.)

It: Super helpful bike mechanic in Auckland who uses the same Wahoo GPS I own and who helped me get it running. Not It’s fault it never ran right!

Lea Ellen, Ed, and Craig: A lovely traveling trio who stopped for conversation about platypus viewing, travel, and why it’s good to get away from everyone for a while. Included here in part because Lea Ellen said I wouldn’t remember how to spell her name.

Last but definitely not least, Mom & Jerry: A huge shout-out, and this one is woefully overdue. I may relate the full story later, but the short version is two days before my sweet little Cocoa and were to leave Ohio, a neighbor dog savagely attacked her. In the space of two days I went from I’ll miss you while I’m away, Cocoa to I can’t believe I’m going to put down a dog who’s only six years old to yes! she’s got a future after all to okay but where?

She is not an easy dog to care for. She’s badly injured. She has to be picked up (which she hates; see photo) just to go outside and pee. I saw no alternative but to surrender her to a shelter. So when my mom and her hubby Jerry stepped up and said they’d keep her until I got back, I just about collapsed with relief. Major extra credit to Jerry, who isn’t really a dog person—or at least he wasn’t then. I hear Cocoa now has him wrapped around her little toe.