23/11/2024
Now a clear minded person would be thinking that once you come through the front gate of home after a couple of weeks on the trail, then that’s the end of that trail adventure. Clear minded is probably not what comes to Coda’s mind as I open the gate that will take us along the old rail trail from Sheffield through to Railton.
I explain to Coda that’s it’s a matter of perspective and we haven’t quite finished our journey along the Tasmanian Trail yet. It just so happens we live along that trail and I thought a days rest in her own paddock would be the perfect gift. I guess the perfect gift from Coda’s perspective is to stay right there in her paddock, with all the grass she can eat. With a laugh I shake my head, asking Coda to move forward and to pick up the pace a might.
This trail to Railton is a shared trail for push bikes, walkers, people walking their dogs, and horse riders. This time of the morning sees only a horse and her rider making their way along the bush landscape, disturbing the local wildlife who are not use to early morning incursions. The twang of the wire boundary fences can be heard as they force their way through in an attempt to put distance between themselves and our unwanted presence.
The splash of pink from the rising sun gives us our first colours of the day and a sign that our day will be a warm one. Another beautiful day, I think on how lucky we have been to have had so many on this journey.
We have decided to travel light today, leaving our front & rear saddle bags at home. There is no reason to carry unnecessary equipment today as we will be picked up by float once we reach our destination.
We have entered the town of Railton and as we make our way through the centre of town some businesses are opening up, an indication that it has come to life. As we walk through the town, people glance up curiously at our passing. A simple nod or an occasional hello receives a reply, it warms me to see that these friendly courtesies have remained.
Turning off the Main Street we move right toward Native Plains Road and closer to the township of Latrobe.
This part of the country is fertile, plenty of grass where ever you look, particularly on the edges of the road something Coda takes advantage of. With the distances we have travelled, Coda knows she has earnt the right to walk and graze, something I am more than happy for her to do. We are making good time this morning so there is no reason why we can’t just linger and dawdle for a while at least until we hit the Old Deloraine Road. Which is still a few mile down the ways.
The grass has begun to fade as we enter through the 2 locked gates of the Old Deloraine Road. We have some old memories here from when we rode to Parliament House in an attempt to obtain a resolution when the trail had been blocked by another landholder. We met with the minister of the time and a solution was found, giving us the path we are travelling on now. I pat Coda for her efforts because it would have been one hell of a lonely trip without her and having her there to hold my hand really made the difference.
We have travelled only a mile and have come out into an area that has been cleared of trees. It’s a shock to see something so changed particularly since it’s hard to recognise. Looking down the trail all I can see is a bare landscape, the heat shimmering from the desolate ground. The trees that once provided shelter from the sun are gone and we will now have a long walk under the sweltering sun.
This area is all plantation, in a year this will look different and the landscape will be a mass of young trees covering the desolation that currently exists. Whether we agree or not, this is the cycle of life here and one that helps keep the Tasmanian economy and modern world going.
Sigh, such is life.
After a mile or two, we re-enter a section of bush land which leads us to an old yellow boom gate scarred by the elements of time and of those who have tried to gain access by unconventional methods. This vandalism and the rubbish that lays littering this length of the trail is reminiscent of what I have seen along the entire trail. Something I note has become more prevalent each time I have travelled the trail, a sad reality and legacy of humanity, a legacy that saddens me and makes me hang my head in disappointment.
Latrobe is a busy little town, a gateway to other places of interest for the interstate traveller, but for us we are just passing through. We ride the levy bank that skirts the Mersey River, where we can see the Axe Mans Hall of Fame and to our right the holding yards of the Tasmanian Trail where we would normally stop for the night.
As if on cue, Coda picks up her pace & makes a beeline for these yards, but guiding her away and pointing her along the River Road toward East Devonport. Coda continues to look back over her shoulder, letting me know that she is disappointed. I tell her not to worry, there will be a feed at the end of the trail and to be patient just a while longer.
We decide to use the cement path along the rivers edge, a nice route provided by the Latrobe Council which gives us a some time away from the bitumen road. The path eventually comes to an elevated walk way with plastic type grating, something not rated for a horse so a return to the road is required.
We are stopped by an excited lady who says a quick hello, wishing us well on our adventures. These random encounters always make our day & become part of the stories around our camp fires. For it’s the people we meet along the way who become part of our story, our journey and become part of our memories.
Our path along the river into East Devonport sees a flurry of activity where a car has ended up over the bank, into the river & below a berthed yacht. Not wanting to be a burden on the unfortunate party, we move on along the busy industrial estate toward what is considered the start of the trail but for us the end of our journey.
The Spirit of Tasmania ferry is in dock so we take a moment to view her great size, turn around and head on back toward the way we had come.
It’s now time to head home, but to do so requires us to cross over the Mersey River via the Victoria Bridge to Devonport where we will meet Tahnee, have lunch and then make our way home.
Before we make it to the bridge, a tow truck has turned up to pull the submerged car from the river but we are not here to watch this spectacle so continue on and turn right along the path which will take us onto the bridge walk way and into Devonport.
We have crossed this bridge many times over the years, each time traffic at its peak but Coda is a veteran of such things and just continues on her way until we descend on the opposite side. A horse on a bridge seems to generate a lot of curiosity, so much so that one drivers curiosity almost causes him to rear end the car in front. A cringe moment but the accident is avoided, and a relief for us all.
Now flapping flags are something else altogether and of course the wind has decided to pick up significantly. Coda’s dislike of flags apparent, choosing a crab walk so she can face the menace until we pass it. It seems every shop likes these things, and further along we meander through 2 more just like it. I give her neck a gentle rub and tell Coda that she has done good.
Crossing the main road, we walk a path alongside the train line where a diesel train is standing idle, waiting patiently to fill its container carriages with an unknown cargo. Coda looks cautiously sideways keeping the train in view, not sure of its intent. I pat her neck talking to her gently. Although Coda is still relaxed, I need her to know that I am ok too, this reassurance helps us both.
The Harbour Master Cafe where Tahnee is waiting is in sight and I can see her sitting outside waiting patiently for our arrival. Her big smile an indication she has spotted us, and that her wait is over. Dismounting, I embrace my wife. Although it was only early this morning that we had seen each other, for me it is always something I look forward to and it never gets old and I don’t mind saying so.
Although we had hoped to stop and enjoy the delights of this cafe, the train which is behind us is slowly creeping forward, so we have decided to head further along the rivers edge to where the float is parked and maybe enjoy some lunch by the river. It just so happens that a place called Dannebrog Lodge is just across the street from where we have stopped. The smell of food is a little hard to ignore and the food well definitely worthy of our attention, particularly now I am so hungry that I could eat almost anything.
Well it has been quite the trail ride and here we are at the end of this journey, so how does one end their story?
Well to tell you the truth, I am not sure.
With that said, I am here having lunch and looking out over the river with my two favourite girls, now what could be a better way to end than that……
