Okay, so leaches do some funny things to your head. In a moment, you’re going to hear an update I recorded while holed up in my hammock. It was the third day of rain and I’d pitched what I now call Camp Leach. Yep, thousands of the inching buggers were vying for my life blood so I cooked a quick lentil meal then crawled into my hammock.

First a hearty “howdy” after almost 2 weeks ramblin Tassie’s bush wilds. From the comments on the latest posts, it seems y’all are freezin’. Sure would be nice to hear how nice and warm it is in Tasmania, right?

Well, you’re not gonna. It’s been flooding here and I’ve been battling leeches. Yep, real honest to god blood sucking, anticoagulant injectin’, rash leavin’ critters – that no one talks about.

Suddenly… Continue reading →

I’m still ramblin’.

A few days ago I mentioned I was headin’ up the road for a few days – just to see what’s around the next Tasmanian bend. Well, I’m still out there. Should be back in a few days – unless, like my buddy Kenny and I are bad for doing, I just keep going for a spell longer.

Come to think of it, ramblin’s just… Continue reading →

Ramblin’.

That’s what my buddy Kenny calls it when we take off on our mules with no destination in mind.

Which is precisely how I plan to spend the next few days. Only I’m heading out on my $10 bike instead of a mule. ‘thinking of heading up Tasmania’s East Coast for a look.… Continue reading →

For the past month, the Southern Ocean has been my back yard. Aboard the “Miss Carmen”, my junk shop bike and I have voyaged from Hobart, Tasmania, south to Port Davey then north to Bruny Island (for a closer look at these places, check out the map below. You can zoom in to get some incredible detail).

Mornings at sea, after the day shot was finished (when the crayfish pots were put… Continue reading →

It’s the age old tradition. You go to a foreign land. It’s New Years Eve. There’s a fountain in the town square. You throw in a piece of local currency. You make a wish. You go back to drinking champagne.

Or, if you’re like me, you don’t see the sense of throwing good money into the drink just because others are doing it.

Spoilsport.

Then there’s… Continue reading →

The longer I stay in Tasmania, the farther I’ve strayed from my original objective – travel Australia’s southernmost state by horse or mule. Instead of traveling overland, I find myself drawn back to the sea. But that’s okay. It’s hard to jump aboard a crayfish boat for a stint at sea… Continue reading →

First, a damn big thank you to everyone who’s subscribed to the Postcard from Tasmania service – that’s where I send folks a real postcard, complete with genuine postmark, from Tassie. I mean really, didn’t you feel better when that Tasmanian devil card showed up in your letter box? The postman sure was amused and hell, it paid for my pint down at the southernmost pub in Australia. Made everyone’s day and I hear one even ended up on a… Continue reading →

Home in Carolina, the sound that cheers me most is the sound of a mule heading up the road, wagon in tow. It was a sound I’d hoped to replicate here in Tasmania.

Instead, I’ve ended up listening to crayfish.

Yep, instead of hitting the road in a equine… Continue reading →

It’s confusing as hell. First, no one knows (including me for my first 30-something years) where Tasmania is. But Spain Bay, Tasmania? Forget about it…

Until now.

Yep, maps have been added to RiverEarth.com. So soon you’ll be able to find out just where those freaky looking lobsters were caught. Or where the guy with the kangaroo bullwhip collection lives. Or,… Continue reading →