We survived, and arrived back on the north west coast around 5am. It was sometime after the crack of noon that any of us stirred. Upon reflection, it was a wise idea to return as today would be a long slow climb back toward normality watching the footy and slothing about before heading out for the gig. Perfect.
I had missed out on revisiting some favourite vistas but it meant that the band had a low stress day leading up to the show.

We would be playing at one of the three pubs that I never spent a great deal of time in as a young man growing up in Wynyard. The Top Pub was always a bit of a mystery. I always drank at the Bottom or the Middle. We played there on our tour in 2005 and the spacious dining room was a great room to play. This time around we were in the bar. It would be a bit of a squeeze, and so it turned out to be.

We had been booked to play, luckily as it eventuated, on the same night as a local pool competition dinner. All the locals were in Burnie for the festivities and the other pubs shut early. We were the only show in town. It was quite a balmy evening for this time of year and as we loaded in the bar started to fill up with gear and some early punters.

Pool tables were moved and serious PA and public liability issues pervaded my mind as I surveyed the proposed stage area. An hour, and a few innovative arrangements later, we were ready for some serious grumpy action.
We did well last time and we did well again this time. I wanted to give my brother a good show at his local and we managed to succeed, as did Jesus and the Jedi. There was none of the shenanigans of the previous night and the JJs did a great set.

It was also our last gig with the guys and Dave's last with the band on this tour. The lads closed out the northern part of the tour in style. An indication of the good vibe was an incident when we were loading out after the show. The cops pulled over to ask what we were doing. One of them spotted Dave and the whole situation changed.

"Hey Dave! How've you been? Did you guys play tonight?"
Dave does the Dave.
"We were listening to your demo out on patrol the other night. Good stuff."
There is an exchange of mutual seeyas and the coppers drive off to continue their night.

We slowly departed and melted back to my brother's place for a good night's rest. There were plans afoot to head out to rocky Cape for an impromptu show in Jo and Sade's lounge room but that was tomorrow. Beyond lay Hobart, and the pointy end of the tour.
For this evening, though, we'd had a bit of fun and played well. I had also caught up with a couple of former compatriots.
Another pleasing aspect was our adaptability in turning an awkward stage set up to our advantage. It's only a little thing but it can make a difference as we were to find out, again, at Brookfield.
Our day off was indeed that as our friends in Rocky Cape were called away. By the time we got ourselves sorted there was nothing for it but to head up to Dave's for farewell pizza, TV and a few laughs. Well, more than a few laughs, when Dave, and his brother Nick, are involved.

It had been far too short but maybe we could make up for that in January.

We farewelled Fred the next morning, took once last glimpse at 'the Cape' and we set off for more southern climes. It was by and large a routine journey with a prerequisite stopover in Deloraine for lunch and another in Campbelltown. In Campbelltown we also had a couple of CDs to drop off at an AG supply business. Their sheep manure sign is the prominent photo on our debut, collected on the 1995 tour of Tassie, and being launched in Tasmania on this tour.
The bloke at the counter seemed a bit bemused but warmed to the situation as I explained the reason for proffered items.

"That's good work then fellas. Too easy. Heh, heh."

He took the CDs into the office where his mates were waiting with some interest and I left them to it. A quick coffee later and we were on the road to... Oatlands, as it turned out. A quick fill later and we took the Colebrook turn off and headed for Richmond, and our eventual base camp for the southern leg of our campaign, Dodge's Ferry.
The whole of the midlands was green, for a change, and by the time we hit Sorell, the sun was just about pulling stumps, lighting the air with a soft glow. Our first sight of Wellington on this tour was her commanding presence beyond the spit, magnificent in the dying sunlight, Hobart huddled beneath her.

We arrived at my mothers place just in time to head to the pub for dinner with mum and my sisters. I would later take Glendi to Margate to his parents place and manage to catch every green light through the city, both ways. I took it as an omen. I later found out that the lights are synchronised that way for better north south flow. I liked my idea better.
I drove back from Margate with Smog blaring from the speakers and feeling well satisfied with things. Country roads, and Tasmania has many, I love 'em.