Ben Lomond is located about an hourâs drive East of Launceston; it took us a while to find the right road, because there was not one sign out of Launceston pointing in the right direction. Even when we stopped to ask a local the direction, he made us even more confused with his, âWell, the time I went, I drove from blah, blah, blah...â in the complete opposite direction to where we were going. We could see the mountain, but even with our keen sense of direction, it took a while for us to find the right road, once we did though, there was no stopping us. :) I drove, with dad playing passenger seat driver all the way. Once we got to the road that took us to the top of the mountain, dad squealed like a girl on the first hairpin turn. He scared the living daylights out of me and if I didnât have my wits about me, I could have driven us off the side of the cliff into the gully below.We made it to the top of the mountain safe and sound, even though the cloud got thicker and by the time we got to the top we could barely make out the orange indicators along the side of the road. When we got to the ski resort, it was like walking onto the set of a scary movie, all thick fog and only one other car in the car park. To add to the feeling, when I was sticking my nose up to the window of the public shelter, a man came running towards the window yelling, to try to scare me. It worked. :) We both had a good laugh though.
I found the drive back down the mountain a little more hair-raising. I stopped at the top of one of the bends t take a photo, not sure if it would turn out with the thick cloud, but it doesnât look too bad. I was pleased when we got back to the bottom and onto flatter, straighter roads, because then dad could relax and stop trying to put a hole through the floor of my car.
We made it home a bit later than we had planned but still in time to cook dinner and enjoy a great evening with my friends.