When you think there’s probably nothing new to feel immersed in that is enjoyable and is surprising, it still could happen. Maybe. When you think you’ve seen all the cruelty that humans have to offer, that their tortures— their own inventions rather than mistakes of happenchance, are the worst thing on the planet, there still might be something bright enough to remind you that there can be enjoyment that delights many senses simultaneously. Nevertheless, for those of you that have to make a serious decision due to unfortunate circumstances, then what I’m saying here is not to suggest that it is better for you to not make that decision. Instead I’m hopefully able to just show something delightful.
The period in the morning around, either side of and near sunrise, in not too hot and not too cold weather, riding my bike up a hill then down and curling around— Bonnet Hill, Between Kingston Beach and Sandy Bay Tasmania. Once driving the route by car before relocating from the suburban Adelaide plains to Kingston Beach, I noticed there were several gear changes; meaning that I might get worn out cycling regularly to get to work, at my advanced age of 51 years and with crunchy joints. But...a great surprise happened— the morning colours were brilliant (though not too bright) and the morning air smelt so fresh and up away from the more-dense housing and with few cars passing— it was a brand new experience. There’s no camera that could capture the colours, the low light, the freshness of the air and the quietness, the distant views to either the mountain (Mt Wellington) on one side, or across a very wide river (Derwent River) to distant bays on the other. Maybe one day Virtual Reality can capture all that. Not yet though. — An unexpected new experience. A small patch of nasturtiums were the brightest colour at one spot— elsewhere ordinary and sometimes a weed, but very scenic on the sloping verge at sunrise. (Remember the old children’s story of the house covered in nasturtiums but mistaken as on fire and the fire brigade called?) At other points it is just the pink early morning light, the steep hillsides, in some places very Australian due to the closeness of the gum trees to the roadside breaking up the sunlight and providing the fresh smell of their oils, turpenoids; and in other places English-looking due to the hillside ploughed in rows and the hawthorn trees.
Later in the day the distant hills are covered with a blue haze, again the aerosols from the eucalypts (hence the name ‘Blue Mountains’ up near Sydney) and very very quickly in the morning the pinkness of the volcanic basalt columns on Mt Wellington becomes brown and more mundane (until the next morning). The pinkness, just as the first sunlight goes onto the rocks of Mt Wellington, and the brightness of roadside plants then, are due to the different scattering of lights’ wavelengths when it comes sideways through what is a thicker atmosphere, compared with later in the day when the sun is higher and its light comes through less atmosphere and with more evaporated water in the air. Elsewhere...there can also be amazing colours after midday— in humid polluted cities in midsummer afternoons— sometimes in Cambridge and London (my recollections from 1986), amongst the bricks and asphalt, in less-ventilated street corners the air would become purple, purpley-brown— equally stunning although the cause was somewhat to be not noticed. In mild summer sunsets young grass tips have a brilliant green: greener than green, almost like the washing detergent ads that say whiter than white (which is actually true due to some non-visible wavelengths being absorbed by the added chemicals, then with some energy loss, being emitted in the visible spectrum).
Bonnet Hill seems like quite a ride, but it's worth it, surprisingly, maybe not least of all because of the vistas meanwhile along the way. So although a tunnel through Bonnet Hill seems the obvious transport solution, one would miss out on something there. It is popular with cyclists (http://marc.durdin.net/2011/11/hobarts-top-10-climbs-3-bonnet-hill.html ).
Also, surprisingly, at only 155 metres in elevation (from the low point at Browns River bridge by the golf course http://www.kbgc.com.au/), it is less than the 300 metre climb in Adelaide up to Belair from the CBD, but it seems more. Maybe because it must be done twice (to work and from work) but maybe because of the many bumps after the hill before work (the university at Sandy Bay in my case), and because of the attention needed to keep on the thin road edge on the tight corners away from the cars. (The road along the riverside into Hobart doesn’t follow the contours for some reason.) Also, for me, there is another 60 metre climb at the end of the day in Kinston to get up to my present home. The hill itself seems a little easier on the way home (when you get to Shot Tower you know you’ve done the hardest bit) and I'm grateful then for the cool air drifting down the gullies on the tight left-hand bends, although its nowhere near as scenic as first thing in the morning, and there’s more traffic later in the day. To mark how unique it is, people (more than half) seem to greet each other in some way in passing— more than in Adelaide up to Belair; when away from the more-populated parts.
Many tourists to Tasmania comment on the number of animals squashed on the roads. The Bonnet Hill route is no exception. The first morning I noticed a freshly squashed wallaby near my street corner in Kingston: the pool of blood was still flowing downhill from its mouth. The next morning on Bonnet Hill I noted a squashed rat and was surprised but that was followed by a brush-tailed possum, then another and a wallaby and a New Holland Honeyeater (a small bird) then still more mammals further on. Hopefully they had quick deaths, and that was indicated by some of the wallabies which had been hit in the head and one or two eyes bulging right out. What are we as humans doing? But I know that for most people who hit an animal it is a very regrettable experience for them and something they really want to avoid. Some bigger highways interstate have tunnels for the wildlife. A Bonnet Hill bypass tunnel would save a lot of animal deaths and save a lot of unnecessary car pollution (by cutting out the uphill then downhill).
Cyclists are not necessarily immune to this fate on the road, although a cycle lane has been proposed:
Too many cyclists these days in Australia, especially those in racing–type clothing are road-hogs by not using cycle lanes when they are provided. Maybe they think that the fancy clothes make them go fast enough to be like a car. More attention to detail by cyclists and motorists could make the roads more usable. It doesn’t hurt as a cyclist to keep left— giving drivers room to overtake. And drivers should make sure that the place where they perfect their spatial skills and reaction times is not on public roads, but instead practicing where it is safer, e.g. by playing some sport requiring good coordination and at speed. The drivers who lack the spatial skills to overtake when it is technically safe to do so are hazardous to the motorists queuing behind them and to the cyclists. — A tunnel would help many meanwhile and add up to be environmentally positive and the colours and air would still be there aboveground on the hill for those who may experience it.
Now to get ready for the morning, a cooler one.
Bye for now. Chris.
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