ESCAPE PODS
As we roll up behind two other riders on the winding dirt trail, my guide Tam slow down noticeably. Isn’t that nice, I think. She’s giving them some room so we can ride faster.
Suddenly she slows, veering left onto a barely marked track in the Tasmanian rainforest and motioning for me to follow. “We can’t let anyone see us,” she loud-whispers, as we ride further into the bush.
In 20 seconds we emerge into a clearing, where it looks as if a benevolent alien race has beamed down a brace of small, curvaceous dwellings for its exclusive use. We are virtually in the epicentre of a large mountain bike
