Tasmania is a Motorcycle Tourer’s Paradise (Even on a 125cc Honda)

Explorer Thomas can’t think of anywhere better for a motorcycle tour than Tasmania. After 20 years of dreaming, he and his mate finally made it to the Apple Isle, with bums on bike seats.

We Are Explorers acknowledges that this adventure is located on the traditional Country of the Palawa People who have occupied and cared for the lands, waters, and their inhabitants for thousands of years. We pay our respects to them as the Traditional Custodians and recognise that sovereignty was never ceded.

A Trip 20 Years in the Making

As with pretty much everywhere in Australia, Tasmania is deceptively large. Looking at a map you’ll see a little nugget that’s fallen off the bottom of the mainland, much like Stewart Island at the bottom tip of the South Island of New Zealand.

However, Australian maps are tricky. This little bit of leftover landmass is actually the size of Ireland or Switzerland. As an independent state, it’d rank a respectable 120 out of 195 countries in terms of physical size.

In other words: it’s in the Goldilocks zone of motorcycle riding. Not too big and not too small.

Lots to see and do in the glorious goatee of Australia!

The problem was that none of my mates had bikes. Or even more problematically, a bike licence.

After watching Ewan McGregor and Charlie Boorman’s, Long Way Round motorcycle documentary at university, a couple of us decided we’d do an epic motorcycle trip sometime in the indeterminate future.

Twenty years later, and three weeks before I left for the trip, my mate, who I refer to as ‘Young Grasshopper’ (because he’s one year younger than me) ran out of procrastination time and spent two days riding around a car park, followed by a short road ride, meaning he could ride on the road without getting arrested.

The next problem was getting him a bike.

What You Ride Determines How You Ride

The obvious idea was to rent. EagleRiders Tasmania were willing to rent Young Grasshopper a Royal Enfield Himalayan (the same bike I ride) for a very reasonable price. This bike is a great option for a trip like this, it has enough power for the highways, but isn’t too heavy. The rental also included a helmet, saddle bags, jacket, and gloves.

Instead, the Grasshopper decided to buy a little 125cc Honda. The perfect bike for delivering pizzas in the city.

Read more: Royal Enfield’s New Bullet 350 Motorcycle Was Involved in a Classic Aussie Record

Leading up to the trip, I’d carefully chosen soft saddlebags that were easy to remove but were just the right size to fit everything I’d need for a long trip. The grasshopper got a large rubbish bag, and a couple of bungees and tied his hiking pack to the back of his bike.

The Grasshopper with his bag tied to the bike. That’s definitely one way to do it

We pulled up to the docks at Geelong with our fully laden bikes.

‘Where are you guys off to?’ another rider enquired.

‘We’re doing a lap of Tasmania’, said the Grasshopper.

‘Good luck!’ said the rider with a hesitant glance at the little CB125.

‘He’s brave’, whispered the rider’s friend.

The ship left the mainland at 9pm, and we went and found our reclining armchairs and crashed for the night. I had my best sleep in years, which must have been the result of the gentle rocking motion throughout the night.

On arrival at Devonport we were encouraged to prepare our bikes for departure.

Our first destination was Launceston – the second biggest city of the Apple Isle. About an hour’s riding down the highway.

Beware, flying Tasmanian devils!

However, the Grasshopper’s bike wasn’t well suited to highway riding. With the throttle at full pelt, and about ten minutes warm up, the bike reluctantly inched towards 70k/h. Unfortunately, the main road from Launceston to Hobart isn’t a full dual carriageway and so this meant that all traffic was speed-limited behind the flyweight adventure tourer.

Eventually, we reached an overtaking lane and pulled over to the left… and all ten cars behind us did exactly the same. By the end of the overtaking lane, not a single car had overtaken.

As we rolled slowly towards Launie (as the locals call it), I contemplated what’d just happened. Perhaps people in Tasmania are happy to go a bit slower than in Sydney or Melbourne. Did overtaking feel like too much effort for them or did everyone just presume that they’d missed a road works sign and we were supposed to be going at a slower speed?

Camping Our Way Down the Coast

We booked a Tasmanian Parks pass for the trip, which meant we could camp in the national parks for next to nothing and also stayed in lots of free campgrounds provided by pubs or various towns.

The gear looking mysterious and cool

We hadn’t booked our accommodation in Freycinet National Park, and rode in as the sun was setting. We followed the signs to the campground and after a short but steep descent, arrived at the camp. Lifting the flap of my helmet, I saw that we were surrounded by tents, dozens of teenage girls, and one slightly panicked-looking male teacher, who didn’t seem to appreciate the two motorcycle riders that’d just ridden into camp.

‘Um, is there somewhere we could camp around here?’ I asked.

‘I think there’s a great spot at Friendly Beaches’, he replied with an awkward smile.

We’d ridden past the Friendly Beaches camp on the way in. Not only was it miles away, it was also closed. However I could see that we were making the poor guy nervous, so I thanked him and we headed off and found a lovely spot five minutes down the road.

Read more: Remember to leave no trace

The view from our campsite in Freycinet National Park

Catching a ferry to Bruny Island for $7 return, with my motorcycle, has to be one of the best value things I’ve ever done.

We rode straight off the ferry and down the road for 20 minutes before the Grasshopper pulled over and removed his helmet. Grinning from ear to ear he declared:

‘That was the best piece of riding we’ve done so far!’

Blessed be Bruny

Bruny Island is to Tasmania, what Tasmania is to continental Australia. If you find that Tasmania is too big, too cosmopolitan, and too highly populated – don’t worry Bruny Island has you covered.

Read more: Bruny Island’s Cape Queen Elizabeth Track

Bending Our Way Into Queenstown

The descent into Queenstown is the best stretch of riding I’ve done in my life – the famous 99 Bends. Motorcycle heaven. Effortlessly we wove our way through the myriad of turns, the bike feeling like it was riding itself, until we eased into the old mining town at the base of the hills. I pulled over and contemplated riding straight back up to do it again, but the squelch of my wet boots convinced me otherwise.

The Grasshopper in full wet weather gear

Despite the overt scars of mining, Queenstown itself is actually quite pretty. However, this didn’t explain the oversupply of young European backpackers.

Listening to the bar staff it was quite clear that a surprising number believed they were heading for the ski resort paradise in New Zealand and instead found themselves in a small mining town in the remote western corner of Tasmania. Sometimes the details matter.

Tasmania on a Motorcycle – You Won’t Regret It

While it might not be the destination of choice for young Europeans, as far as moto-adventures go, Tasmania is perfect. Endless 45-55km/h gentle bends in perfectly maintained roads. Scenic variety that other states can only dream of. An infinite number of cafes all of which serve better coffee than anywhere in London or New York – and finally, wonderful laid-back people who know how lucky they are and aren’t in a hurry to get anywhere else (even when stuck behind a slow bike on the motorway).

Lining up for the ferry back to mainland Australia, a couple of riders pulled up alongside us.

‘We saw you guys a couple of times while we were riding round!’ one said.

‘I can’t believe you did Tassie on a little 125 – what a legend!’

The Grasshopper didn’t stop smiling for hours. Though, he did admit that when he comes back, he’ll do it on a Himalayan.

Read more: WATCH: Hand-Built Motorcycles Tackle Off-Road Touring in Tassie