It began as the Holiday from Hell...

I arrived in Launceston on time, after a relaxed (and short) flight from Melbourne.
I was there a day early, as a volunteer, to help get things organised and for a special dinner.

Well, they'd lost my form, so they didn't know I was coming on the Friday flight, they didn't have a name badge for me, and the "special dinner" turned out to be rice and steamed vege - you know those frozen tiny cubes of carrot, peas and corn? They weren't ready for a coeliac. they weren't ready for me - so much for feeling like a valued part of the team (and paying extra for food to boot!)

But these things happen, so I met my team members (they didn't know I was coming either), found a tent, and got settled in for the night.

B was catching the boat that night, so I sent him a romantic message and waited for the next day to arrive.

Around 9am the next morning, B sent me an SMS. He'd missed the boat, so was going to be 24 hours behind us and the bike ride was going to be moving on around the coast at 70kms per day. (I'm not sure why it took him 12 hours to send me an SMS to me and admit to me that he'd missed the boat. I can only guess as to his anxiety, and which was worse, missing the boat, or having to tell me that he'd missed the boat?)

The next night the riders arrived at Pipers Brook, and B managed to get on the boat. I took a photo of the sunset he was missing.

The next morning, the riders left for Branxholm and B arrived in Devonport.
I waited in Scottsdale at lunch for B to roll in, no sign, and no response from my SMS's.
No B at camp that night, and still no contact.
The next morning, the riders left for St Helens.

After 48 hours of not hearing from him, I was fearing the worst, in a terrible state and in at the St Helens Police Station getting them to check hospitals, bus lines etc trying to track him. No-one believed me when I said he was likely to try to ride from Devonport (near on 300km) with his full back pack and end up sleeping by the side of the road.

After assuring the police that he wasn't trying to get away from me, that I wasn't a stalker, they diligently called through hospitals, back packers, bus lines etc, etc, all to no avail.

Just as I was getting ready to quit the ride to catch a bus back to Launceston to hire a car and start driving the roads looking for a dead body, he rides into camp. He had been sending me SMS's, but none of them had been getting through, and he didn't realise.

And yes, he did ride from Devonport to St Helens in two days, with a full backpack and slept by the side of the road in a sleeping bag, 27 kms east of Launceston. He did take the time to do some sight-seeing on the way, and stopped for an echidna experience as well. (Echidna's are my new favourite animal - closely followed by platypus.)