On October 17, 1998, I arrived in Launceston, Tasmania. Tasmania is an island-state located south of the continent of Australia. The purpose of my trip was to play in two golf tournaments. In one of the tournament rounds, I met David Direen, an Australian from Hobart. Hobart is located on the south coast of Tasmania. David, invited me to stay at his house over the weekend that was sandwiched between the Australian National Left-Handed Golf Tournament and the World Left-Handed Golf Tournament. I went for the weekend but prior to that I spent a week in Launceston.
Launceston is known mostly for its parks and gardens. Cataract Gorge, located near my hotel, is a place I got to know by foot. I ran the Gorge several times over the week I was there. My runs would start from my hotel and I'd run through town streets until I crossed the suspension bridge spanning Cataract Gorge. I'd run the Duck Reach Trail and return on the Zig Zag trail. As I ran, I'd stop and try to capture the moments I was experiencing. I do this frequently on my international runs because usually it is a once in a lifetime experience. In the case of Cataract Gorge, I now wish I could have spent more time running those trails. Nonetheless, the memories and notes of my experiences are vivid. Here's a picture of the suspension bridge. I caught the Gorge on a fairly benign day. My runs were fairly tough but I was overwhelmed by the beauty of the region.
I also made a very harrowing trip to Cradle Mountain. Cradle Mountain is located South West of Launceston. I went out to the mountain with friends from England, Gordon and Pam, and we decided to adventure into the King Soloman Caves; as well as, hike into the mountain. The harrowing part of this adventure is that we never planned to have an extended stay on the mountain nor travel without a guide or map. In fact, everything I've ever learned about hiking into the unknown--we violated! No food, water, or adequate clothing.
After a fairly benign hike, we decided to grab what appeared to be another short route, and after signing into the previous trail, we failed to resign the mountain log indicating our presence on the the new trail or mountain. As we scampered up the mountain, the runoff had moistened the root covered trail to the point where injury was inevitable. Late afternoon turned into early evening as we reached the summit; much to our surprise a snow covered mountain, and needless to say I was beginning to realize that we might be in a bit of trouble. As we moved through knee deep snow, I caught the sight of a bushy looking creature (a wombat), and I wondered if he was hungry for humans? We moved across the mountain looking for signs of the trail, and as we traversed the canopy of trees we eventually found our way out of the mountain, but not before we encountered a group of wallabies; undoubtedly wondering what the heck we were doing up there! As the 2.5 hour trip turned toward 5 hours, we made it back down to our car. As we thawed, relieved, we got back on the road and headed back to our hotel. On the way back, we stopped at The Mole Creek Inn for dinner in the unforgetable town of Mole Creek (?), and ended up getting back to the Hotel late. Needless to say, it was a heckuva time up in Cradle Mountain!!! And while luck was on our side, the trip was risky but a great story to tell...
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