Snag's Lap: THE GRAND FINALE | Tasmania | INFO MOTO

Tassie marks the end of the voyage of motorcycle madness that was Snag’s Lap, but as we heave-ho from the Geelong TT Line terminal, let’s wander down memory highway to recap the 26,000km epic trip around the outside of this wide brown land.
So… Snag’s Lap has been completed. You are probably as relieved as I am is to see the arse end of it, but it really was quite a thing.
I jest. It was grouse fun, but not without its moments.
Regular readers will remember the pandemic got in the way and the start was delayed some. But, with S 1000 XR bulging at the seams with 65kg of camping gear and another 80kg of naïve rider, I set off.
Highlights? Well. Where do we start? How about getting almost drowned in the floods around Narribri? Alone deep in the wilds of Kakadu? The brilliant expanse of loneliness that is Cable Beach in Broome? Having gear stolen from camp? Seeing the depth and wonder associated with indigenous culture along with some of the social difficulties associated with race relationships? Yep, never a dull moment for the solo motorcycle traveller.
All aboard the most brilliant companion I ever had - Cicero the 2019 BMW S 1000 XR - which never missed a beat. Not once. Indeed, I’ll die with that motorcycle. It gets like that. When you are 1000km from anything or anyone, you get weirdly reliant on your bike and it becomes like a horse. I love that thing.
The north west really is a frontier. The Kimberley and Pilbara are great examples of resilience. Hard people, because they have to be. Given the distances between regions in Oz, it stands to total reason that opinions, attitudes, lifestyles and even accents change as you travel. I kept my fat mouth shut most of the time. Because there was much to hear.
Triple trailered huge trucks 53 metres long, mining equipment that looked like Star Wars props, leather-handed tough people and acts of tender kindness when I was late-to-land and hungry. Stopped by the side of the road refuelling, I was always asked ‘you right mate?’. Usually by people in the oldest and roughest cars. Because kindness doesn’t observe wealth. In fact, pretty much the opposite holds true on the road.
My favourite place of all? Albany in West Australia (I say West Australia, because that’s the way the locals like it). History, magnificent oceans of crystal blue contemplation and historical architecture to die for. I loved Albany.
I slept in campsites, shipping containers, on the side of the road and a couple of times aboard the bike. I ate yellow rubbish from horror shows of servos, magnificent seafood on occasion and a thousand parmagianas. I met idiots and great people. I cried, was scared, lonely and soft. Indeed, I was forced to rely on myself and that bloody magnificent steed. And it was the best thing I have ever done alone.
So, all aboard Spirit of Tasmania. As we sign off on the very last leg of Snag’s Lap…
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