Didn’t make it far before I was wet and cold, with more rain and poor visibility ahead. Sought shelter at the Khancoban Alpine Inn, who were so kind as to donate a room for the night.

Waiting for better weather before I attempt the mountain pass. My hosts Tom and Thea in Corryong were wonderful, and grow a tree arboretum as a hobby, but they took time to trust a stranger. They let me camp on their lawn the first night. The second night they let me stay in their spare room, but didn’t want me inside if they weren’t home. They then invited me to stay a third night, took me for a drive up Mt Mittamatite, and left me to look after the house when they went out — ‘Well, I know you now’, said Tom.

Pedalled on up the valley, following the meandering Murray River towards the mountains. Camped by the water at Jingellic. Nights getting colder as I ascend, and a cold next morning cycling through fog to Corryong.

Headed east to Lake Hume and the Hume Dam, with its 60MW hydro power generator, then up the Murray River valley. The tall trees, which have been mostly submerged since the dam was built almost 100 years ago, now stand stark and exposed, with the water levels less than 15%.

After the rain had passed I pedalled back and forth between Albury and Wodonga, crossing the mighty Murray River and the VIC-NSW border each time. I visited a Bhutanese community farm, a cafe that repaired my bike and clothes, and a huge landfill producing power from waste.

At midnight I received a phone call. “Nick, I missed the last train!! What do I do!?” It was Claire from the apartment two storeys above me, slightly tipsy. “Where are you?” “I’m at Mukonoso Station!” That was 10km away from where we lived in Shin-Osaka and the only vehicle I had was a bicycle. What could I possibly do? “Wait there, I’ll come and get you!”

So began a memorable late-night bike adventure across Osaka, Japan, with Claire sitting on the back of my mama-chari (Japanese ‘mum’s chariot’) for the fun-filled ride home. Fourteen years later I’ve cycled in to see Claire again, now living with her new family in Wodonga, Australia. Thank you Claire for the fun memories and for letting me stay!

Torrential downpours and flooded streets. Taking shelter in Wodonga from the wild weather.

Two nights and a day in the pretty town of Yackandandah, staying in a straw bale cottage and learning how a local group transformed their town’s energy supply. A huge thanks to Matt, Michelle and their son Tarn for hosting me, and for the lovely fireside chats. I then pedalled on to Wodonga on the Victorian border.

A sealed ‘rail trail’ most of the way to Yackandandah, and my hosts there told me they’ve just secured funds to complete the final leg. If only we had these all over the country.

Over the forested mountains, starting with a relentless uphill climb to a pretty camp at Tolmie, where I slept in the camp kitchen to escape the cold. Views from the lookout and arrest site of Harry Powers, one of Australia’s most famous bushrangers and Ned Kelly’s mentor. A cold and wet day, and very happy to descend to the flat green farmland of the King River valley, following it to a riverside camp near Wangaratta.

Followed the Great Victorian Rail Trail, through Yea (pronounced ‘Yay!’) and Bonnie Doon to Mansfield, camping halfway at the abandoned Cathkin railway siding. Alternated between the gravel rail trail (to escape the traffic) and the main road (to escape the gravel). Saw lots of other bike tourists, a mostly dry Lake Eildon, and fungi that can punch through bitumen!

I’d come to Commonground to talk with Alicia Crawford, an activist and campaigner who lives in a tiny house here with her husband and daughter. Alicia has a similar burnout story to my own, and is now passionate about the intersection of activism/social change and personal well-being. It was also the Easter Gathering here, and so I joined everyone preserving fruit and carting firewood for the winter. My bent bike wheel remained a dilemma, and a friend Duncan drove all the way out from Melbourne to try to fix it for me!

I was hit by a car just outside Broadford. I was okay, as the front of my bike took most of the impact, and the young Nepalese driver and his family stayed for a while as I tried to fix it. By removing my entire mudguard I was able to limp on, despite a bent front wheel. Eventually I was picked up by a friend and taken to an ‘intentional community’ on a nearby bush property called Commonground, to join the Easter Gathering.

Undulating downhill through forests and farms to Flowerdale. I’ve been missing the simplicity and solitude of being on the road. Set up camp early by a stream, to write and wander and skim stones.

Back on the road. From Melbourne I cycled north into the mountains and against a fierce headwind to Kinglake, to visit an ‘Earthship’. Daryl’s home and community were devastated by bushfire, and so his new home will be a self-contained, bushfire-proof bunker made of salvaged timber and glass, mud brick, cob, glass bottles, car tyres and rammed earth, with solar panels, rainwater tanks and a built-in food-producing greenhouse fed by greywater.

A lot of admin work goes into making a trip like this happen, including contacting sustainability experts, researching projects, and organising and scheduling site visits. Thank you so much to Carolyn, Laurence and Jayt for giving me such lovely places in Melbourne to stay and do this work as I prepared for the next leg of my journey. It was also nice to use a computer for the first time in ages.

I’ve heard Tasmania described as ‘a cyclist’s paradise’, but the interlacing bike lanes and cycle paths of Melbourne felt like heaven in comparison. I visited a leading example of sustainable architecture, a hospital that’s dramatically reducing its waste, a factory producing electric trucks and vans, and the CERES community bike shed (where I showed my bike some love). I also met with Greg Foyster, the author of the book ‘Changing Gears’, about a bike journey exploring examples of simpler living.

The Tasmanian chapter of my journey has come to an end. I wheeled my bike onto the ferry and said farewell to Devonport — and hello to Melbourne!

Life on the farm: geese hunting, comical cows, and homeschooled kids; it was hard to leave, and I ended up cycling in the wind and rain to Devonport and arriving after dark. Slept in another kind family’s lounge room — it’s been over a week since I used my tent!

A relief to be in flatter country. Had a pleasant ride west through gently rolling farmland and small historic towns to Deloraine, then north to stay at a special dairy and grain farm to learn about sustainable agriculture.

On my way down the Tamar River I stopped to escape the rain and joined a young homeless man at his fire. We traded stories, and I learnt how he walks from town to town, of the kindness of the road workers and the amount of food he finds on the roadside. I reached Launceston and spent two days hanging out with friends, plus lunch with a gut specialist and a nutrition specialist to discuss the burnout and IBS epidemics, and a visit to a 6-green star apartment building.

Two restful days at a friend Bev’s place in George Town, where I visited an industrial waste plastics reprocessing factory — my first foray into the world of plastics recycling. I also searched for Little Penguins in the dark under the lighthouse and a starlit sky at Low Head.

I’ve had a few requests for more selfies. Who’d have thought there’d ever be a shortage of these in the world? If you were wondering how I look, well, I can tell you that I look like a bit of a dork, especially dressed in my cycling outfit (it’s the height of bike touring fashion, I swear!).

It’s not that I’m against taking pictures of myself, but I’d rather be behind the camera than in front of it. This journey has become a bit of an art project for me. I enjoy the challenge of crafting each article and composing nice photos; and I try to select only the best photos to share, which tend to not have me in them.

I’m flattered that you’d want to see pictures of me — thank you! I’m sure I’ll share some selfies eventually; perhaps ones where I’m looking particularly dashing, or where the scenery is stunning enough to compensate.

Very cold nights. Cycled through lush mountain forests and rolling farmland. Thrilling downhill runs that had my eyes and nose streaming, followed each time by another mountain to sweat my way up. Finally reached the flatter north coast and cycled to George Town at the mouth of the Tamar River.

Several people had walked past my camp spot looking for platypus, but only one person said they’d seen one, and just a brief glimpse.

At dusk I found a quiet spot by the stream to watch and wait. But I soon grew bored and started fiddling on my phone. When I finally glanced up again, there was a platypus floating on the surface only ten metres away. It seemed to be watching me. Do I dare try to take a photo? Then it dived and was gone.

I was extra vigilant for the next half hour, staring intently at the water, but I saw nothing. Soon I took out my notebook to do some writing. When I eventually looked up again, there was the platypus just cruising along the surface right by me. I was getting the hang of this. It was like waiting for a pot to boil — better to not watch too intently.

Two nights with a couple, Todd and Astrid, who spend their time growing their own food, playing violin-guitar duets together, and re-growing native forests. Todd took me to see a vast area of destroyed forest that he’d restored. From there I began my cycle through the mountains, camping in Weldborough.

Pedalled north, through Bicheno and Scamander to near St Helens, and crossed on to the other side of my paper map: into north Tas! Stayed with a lovely family who’ve built a quirky collection of cabins and cottages on their eco-friendly farm.

Stormy nights and hiking in Freycinet National Park. Gale force winds nearly blew me off the top of Mt Amos, and walking a mile on boggy beach into a howling headwind is not as much fun as it sounds. Pretty views of Wineglass Bay, and lovely visiting my childhood neighbour Chella in her nearby cabin.

Around the bay to Freycinet. Along the way, to my dismay, I found my food had gone astray — ‘twas at the place that I did stay! It made my day, when some tourists they, brought it with them on their way. My Chinese study did finally pay, as no English could they say.

More searching for the critically endangered Swift Parrot at Little Swanport in the morning, then riding into the wind to Swansea.

From the Maria Island ferry I pedalled on to Little Swanport to check out two unusual examples of people protecting critical habitat on private land. Two days of traipsing around private forests — first hosted by a lovely couple, Tom and Jane, then camping by the Little Swanport River — and feeding the local leech and mosquito population.

My rearview mirror broke when my loaded bike fell over with a crash — very sad. Hilly farm roads, and then a long rough track through the forest that nearly rattled my bike to pieces. A relief to be on bitumen again. Camped behind the pub at Triabunna, wedged in amongst caravans.

Cycling north again, past Port Arthur and the tesselated rocks of Pirate’s Bay. Pushed on into twilight through a strong headwind and sprinkles of rain to Bream Creek, to be greeted with a warm fire and nice view.

No flying devils, but big hills and lots of roadkill (wallabies, wombats, possums) on my way down the Tasman Peninsula. Spent two nights at the eco-village in Nubeena learning about the benefits and challenges of ‘intentional communities’, and the details of how they work.

I loaded up my bike, and rode down to Hobart’s ‘School Strike 4 Climate’ rally. It started with a 16yr old Swedish girl boycotting school last August. She sat outside Swedish parliament holding a sign saying “Skolstrejk för klimatet” or “School strike for the climate”. This sparked a movement, with students now striking in around 100 countries, and about 150,000 Australian students taking part. I’ve never seen so many school students protesting before. From there I rode out of Hobart and headed east on the next leg of my journey.

Resting in Hobart. I’ve also visited an innovative campus bike hub here, a community solar installation on a textile factory employing people with intellectual disabilities, an urban permaculture house, a 6 green star rated building, and a workers cooperative salvaging and re-selling waste from the tip — each fascinating in their own way, but how to write about them in an engaging way not always clear.

Hills and end-of-long-weekend traffic the last leg north along the coast to Hobart. Came across the tallest shot tower in the Southern Hemisphere at Taroona, with a view over the Derwent River, then a nice long glide downhill to the outskirts of the city.

Funny how I can feel loneliest when surrounded by people.

I was lucky to receive a free ticket to the indigenous cultural festival, Nayri Niara. I’d been looking forward to it and had cycled to the southern end of Bruny Island to camp there for a night. It was an amazing event, with dance groups, craft workshops, storytelling circles, seminars, and some live music acts later. But after attending some sessions I just felt this restless urge to escape the crowds. As I was sitting on the hillside with the event happening below, I felt like an outsider and I kept thinking: “I could be riding my bike right now, and journeying to beautiful quiet places.” So I left, and raced the length of Bruny Island to just make the last ferry at 7:15pm.

Maybe this all sounds weird, but I’m learning what makes me happy, and I like myself more for having followed my instincts. I think this is partly what my journey is about. Camping at Trial Bay that night, I sat at the end of a small jetty in the dark looking up at the stars, and felt good.

A steep climb on foot to the top of the Fluted Cape for a picnic breakfast in the cold wind and mist. I then cycled to Allonnah to stay in an award-winning Tiny House in the forest.

Crossed over to Bruny Island on the ferry and cycled down to camp at the isthmus — the narrow neck of land that connects north and south Bruny. Racked by indecision about what order to do all the things I came here to do. Decided to head to Adventure Bay for an interview with a man involved in a ‘virtual power plant’ trial, and a stroll along the pretty beach.

From Huonville I pedalled around the coast past Cygnet and up the D’Entrecasteaux Channel. A merry evening of singing and joke-telling by the water at Gordon with a pair of Maori campers named Tinga and Tushay. Tushay kindly repaired a big tear in my trousers using her sewing machine. Big climbs up hilly dirt roads the next day to visit some micro hydro systems on two amazing off-grid eco-homes.

Humid and hilly up the Huon. From Ida Bay at the southern end of Tasmania (as far south as the bitumen goes in Australia), I wound my way north along the coast and up the Huon River to Port Huon. Stopped to chat with an older Italian bike tourer. Some nice Korean tourists offered me pears and noodles. Pretty orchards, fields, forest and river coves, and views of the salmon farms.

Rode with a convoy of e-bikes in the morning to an event where I got to test drive a few different electric vehicles. Later my wonderful host Jo kindly drove me down to the southern end of Tasmania, as far south as the bitumen goes in Australia, where I’ll start my bike journey. Camped under the haze from the still-smouldering forests.

I’ve arrived in Hobart, and re-assembled my bike. Looking back over the past month, it’s hard to believe I’m here. This started as a far-fetched idea that I couldn’t afford, but then so many people extended their support to help make it happen. It was unexpected and incredibly heartwarming — my deepest thanks to all of you. I’m nervous about what’s ahead, but also eager to start riding.

The guys at ‘Cycles Bespoke’ have been amazingly supportive. Bike touring is one of their specialties, and they did most of the labour pro bono to build me a strong new rear wheel and get my bike prepared for my upcoming trip. They were also fully onboard with my desire to repair existing parts or use secondhand parts where possible.

I was a pretty lousy bike mechanic when I set off on my bike trip last November. But after a month of many breakdowns and roadside repair jobs I learnt a thing or two, by necessity. When it came to Christmas, I offered to service my family’s bicycles as a present for each of them. My ulterior motive was that it would be a way for me to learn even more about looking after my own bike. It also turns out to be quite therapeutic.

Trying to resist the temptation to buy new gear for my upcoming trip, when secondhand is usually fine. I’m sticking with my $80 secondhand bike; my hand-me-down iPhone with the cracked screen; clothes, bags and cutlery from op-shops; a needle and thread for repairs; secondhand bike parts; and some items I’ve scrounged and “borrowed” from family (haha, they probably won’t get those back in the same condition). But there are just a couple of specialised items I’m buying new — long-term investments in rugged lightweight gear to save weight and space — such as a pair of lightweight hiking trousers that can take a beating; and small, well-sealed, refillable soap and shampoo bottles.

I was so overjoyed to find this guy Daniel, I did a little happy dance. Have a look at what he’s holding.

The bike shop and I have been searching high and low for a wheel rim of the right size for my vintage bike. I’m needing a strong new rear wheel built for my upcoming trip — one that can handle the load — but no suppliers had the right size rim in stock anywhere in Australia.

Daniel is a bike enthusiast in Margaret River who collects and refurbishes old bikes. Plus, he’s kind, friendly and generous; his enthusiasm for bikes is infectious; and he’ll happily share some great stories from his past bike tours. He happened to have this 27” double-walled rim in his shed, which he gave to me for free, as well as a front bike rack that was designed for my bike — thank you so much, Daniel!

I once made the rookie mistake of putting a soft and broad mountain bike saddle on my road bike, leading to an embarrassing visit to the hospital emergency department. On my last bike tour I was using a secondhand road bike saddle, but I’d get pins-and-needles and numbness after long hours riding. It turns out I need a firm, narrow saddle with wide enough flanges in the right place to support my “sit bones”. The bike shop has got me trialling this demo saddle in preparation for the upcoming trip.

Learning from those who’ve gone before me: The book ‘Changing Gears’ tells the story of Greg and his partner Sophie, who cycled up the east coast of Australia and visited various examples of living more simply, such as intentional communities, dumpster divers and off-the-grid permaculturists. It’s an entertaining and insightful read.

We’re struggling to find a new wheel rim of the right size! Can you help?

A specialist bike shop in Perth is supporting my upcoming journey by getting my bike ship-shape, doing the labour pro bono. They’re building me a new strong rear wheel that can handle the load, but being a vintage bike, none of their Australian suppliers have the right size wheel rim. We’re searching everywhere and putting our feelers out. Are there any cyclists out there who have access to a 27” double-walled touring bike wheel rim with holes for 36 spokes?

Some light summer reading… Preparing for the upcoming bike journey.

It’s official. I’m definitely going. I’ve bought my ticket to arrive in Hobart on the 26th Feb, and will aim to set off on my bike at the start of March.

I now have a website for the project! I’ve spent several days grappling with the challenges of using WordPress. But I’m learning, slowly. It’s still a work in progress, but feel free to give feedback and suggestions. A huge thank you to Joe Taheny for helping me get this far!