tasmania - Natureloverswalks

April 17, 2021May 14, 2021

Lady Lake in snow 2021 Apr

To overnight it at Lady Lake had not exactly been our number one choice, but with further west promising rain if we were down low, and blizzards if up high, Lady Lake looked as if it were a more benign alternative, so we settled on it as our destination. Camping had been on our agenda for this weekend for months. It was the first weekend of the school holidays for the end of Term 1.

Off we set up Higgs track, through beautiful lush forest

As we donned our packs, the drizzle was only light. I knew the forest would protect us, and it did. Two of us were wearing shorts. It was not cold down there. Nobody bothered with anoraks. Up we climbed. It was not far at all but it was very, very steep, so that once you factored that into the equation, it was a very demanding slope for young Abby (5). I thought it could take her two hours, and it nearly did.

At some stage in there, Abby needed a lolly break – she was doing all the walking herself, and enjoys lolly treats as motivation. The pace had been pretty slow, and Keith had mercy on Kirsten, Gus and me and said we could go on a bit faster and he would stay with Abby. We were thankful. On we pushed at a more comfortable speed.

Gus (9) moves at a pace that is very reasonable, especially if I am carrying a full pack, which, of course, I was doing right now. He carries some gear, but his noble parents take the lion’s share of the weight. Their packs are ginormous, as both parents are keen to cater for every emergency a child might experience, and then a bit more. They also fear the children might need to eat twice their normal amount with all that exercise, and cater accordingly.
The forest had been magic right from the start – it is exceptionally lush forest – but when light drizzle morphed into gently falling snowflakes, it became totally entrancing. All three of us were very, very excited, and shared our joy as we climbed ever higher.

To have a quick break and to motivate Gus, I got out the map to show him how far he’d come, and how much was left. We were all pleased with our progress up the slope. I told him the forest type would be changing very soon, and indeed it did. The beautiful green moss with myrtles gradually ceded to drier traditional bush. It became much lighter as the darkness of the dense forest lingered behind us. We would soon be above the tree line. Gus and Kirsten were still in shorts. Even by now, the elements did not invite stopping to change: it was much better to go at a fast pace to some shelter than to linger in what was now a storm and peel off clothes to put on warmer ones.

Bash. We hit the open plains. Whoah. Blizzard it was! The wind-driven arrows of ice pierced our faces. Heads retreated into our chests. Every time I tried to look up to see where we were going, I got mightily stung, sometimes in the eye. I could hear poor darling Gus whimpering. We offered words of encouragement, and Kirsten took his hand, partly for security and comfort, partly for guidance. She led with one hand held behind her, to reach him. I came in third, glad I didn’t have to guide us. Even staying on the boards that were on top was difficult. We were on a mission to get Gussy across this open wind tunnel and into the protection of the trees beyond.

Once there, things were better, and soon we came to the small hut that is up there. It is unheated, but being out of the wind would be a huge benefit. Later, a tent would be pitched for extra warmth, but having the hut to get changed in, and eat in, would be a massive bonus. We also used it to do repeated “7-minute workouts” during the afternoon to keep warm, with a final one just before going to bed to make sure we were nice and warm getting into our bags.

Kirsten quickly popped on her over-trousers, and some extra warm gear for Abby, and ran backwards to help Keith. I was there to help young Gus get out of his wet shorts and into his thermals and puffer jacket. He was incapable of even getting his shoes off, he was so cold. His hands lacked strength. I undid his laces and tugged with all my might, and eventually we got them off. I popped him into his ski gloves and beanie while I removed more wet clothes and replaced them with dry. That achieved, I got out food and sat him at the table to eat. Now he was smiling again. By the time he had finished his cheese and bacon roll, Abby and her parents appeared. Although she was surely cold, she seemed in exceptionally good spirits. Soon enough, they were all devouring hot noodles which raised the body temperature.

The children had had enough snow by then, but Kirsten and I wanted more exercise, so off we set into the blizzard once the children were happily playing games with their dad. We had no special destination, but after exploring Lady Lake, we decided to go in the direction of Lake Lucy Long. The more the snow fell, the prettier our scenery became.

By the time we got back, the bit of light that existed was starting to get close-of-day hues. Unfortunately at this point, I needed the toilet. The toilet at this hut is very well hidden, but I found it. Kirsten offered to go to the hut to get paper and bring it to me, for there wouldn’t be paper provided. Ever sat on a toilet in a blizzard waiting for paper? Oh it’s such fun!!! The outhouse has only three sides, and those sides are more screens for privacy than walls of protection. The snow lashed me while I waited, bare skin exposed.

I forgot my discomfort quickly, however, as the evening was growing more beautiful every second, and I wandered about the open plains with my tripod and camera, enjoying the light and photographing it.

That evening, we could tell Abby needed the toilet, but she refused to admit to her need. She did NOT want to go out there into the howling wind and beating snow. Somehow her parents convinced her that if she had an accident in her sleeping bag she would be very cold and uncomfortable. She heeded the advice. We made her a hot water bottle, and she went into the tent with her mum. We didn’t hear another peep out of her. Everybody slept very soundly. I hugged my water bottle, my body heat enhanced by our final 7-minute workout.

Dawn was magic, as my photographs testify. I was so thrilled that Gussy came out to enjoy it too. His Poppa would have been proud of him. Bruce enjoyed sunrise and sunset with me without fail, often waking me up if he feared I might be about to miss it. After breakfast, we had snow fights and more photography before girding our loins and setting off into the area of greatest exposure. Luckily for our speed and her safety, Abby agreed to being carried until the forest section began.

After I got home, I had maybe the longest hottest shower I have ever had. I hadn’t felt particularly cold out there, but I guess the blizzardy, exposed section took more out of me than I realised. Back near the cars, I heard two people going up the slope talking about “what a cute, amazing little trooper”. It made me assess what tiny Abby had done from their eyes: it was a pretty amazing effort. I hope she remembers it with glee.
For summer views, see http://www.natureloverswalks.com/higgs-track-lady-lake/

April 9, 2021

Pelion Falls 2021 Easter

Pelion Falls

I was in search of a decent-lengthed workout, and have long wanted to visit Pelion Falls, on the northern side of Mt Pelion West. I decided that I’d have a go at reaching these falls (and back) in a single day. If I failed to succeed, the act of trying would be reward in enough. I would have a great workout in the mountains, and get to enjoy wonderful scenery while I did it.
Little did I know that I was setting out on a 55.6 km walk, to be squeezed in before it got dark (although I did have my headtorch in), and carrying a 7.3 kg pack containing food (nearly 2kgs at the start. I returned with 1kg), emergency equipment – both clothes and electrical -, and, of course, my trusty tripod, Nisi filters and full-frame camera.

It is pretty impossible to calculate absolutely the distance to be covered from a map, where many of the twists and turns are not reckoned with, but I thought I could be letting myself in for a 35-38 km day. Why would anyone check on the gps track data whilst in motion? I decided to have a look at half way, and without taking height into consideration, I knew I was already clocking up a day of over 50 kms. It was only the day after that I added in the height variables to discover that the reason my legs were a little flat on that day was that I had not only covered 45 horizontal kilometres, but also climbed over 1000 ms, yielding 55.6 kilometre equivalents for the day. I am very glad I didn’t know that before setting out, or I would never have trusted myself to get it in – at all, let alone in the light (which I managed – just).

I did know I was undertaking what looked like a big distance on the map, so set out in business-march mode, powering up the first very steep and quite long slope, making it to Lake Price in 48 minutes. I have always nicknamed the tributary at this spot (which is actually one of many tributaries of the Arm River) “Drink Creek”, as it is traditionally a spot for having a drink and letting a group gather all its members together after they have spread out during the climb. Some people take an hour ten, or more, to reach this point. But I was alone, part of no group, so was as free as a bird. I threw down a quick drink and was on my way.
The next twenty eight minutes took me to the high point on my track, which is a saddle overlooking the area of the Overland Trail, with excellent views to Mt Ossa, Pelion West, Pillinger and more. Light clouds decorated the mountains, but I could still see everything I wanted to, and delighted in it. How incredibly free I felt, to be able to go as far and as fast as I liked with nobody complaining. The silence was blissful (as long as you don’t count my singing, but I don’t listen to myself sing; I just do it as I walk. It is an expression of the song that is constantly in my head).

Already at this point, I had bumped into five people in two sub-groups, who had climbed Mt Pillinger to watch the dawn up there. I knew the father of the group: he was on Bruce’s staff at Church Grammar, and he and Bruce and other staff members had done an epic crossing of the Western Arthurs many years ago. I have never once seen this person around Launceston, but have bumped into him in the wilderness three times!
I made it to Pelion Hut just as the last people were leaving for whatever they were about to do that day. Three of them stayed to chat to me while I took a brief food break. The lights went on for one of them; he realised who I was and told me he follows both my blog and my instagram. It was such fun to meet them.
After the hut, there is a strip that took me over fifty minutes down to Froggy Flats and its crossing over the Forth River. That split felt shorter, as the scenery was so beautiful time whizzed by. Time did not whizz by for the next split, which looked much shorter on the map than it actually was, due to the many ins and outs the track makes to deviate from a direct path. Such diversions get smoothed out on the map. Also, it is an uphill stretch. I didn’t realise the extent of the climb until later when I examined a graph of my route. At last, however, I came to a creek, which on examination proved to be my much-awaited Pelion Creek. I confirmed by consulting my gps. There was a family group resting there. They asked where I was going, seeing’s I’d just turned from continuing straight ahead. I pointed into the shrubbery: “That way.”
“Oh”, they said, somewhat surprised. It hardly looked inviting. I explained there was a waterfall up there. They wished me well.

At last I was there. It had taken, so far, 4 hours and 40 minutes of concerted effort, and would take longer to get back, for sure. Was it worth it? OH YES. Not so much because it was the most beautiful waterfall on the planet, and certainly not because I could tick another box. A cynic could say that this was an example of the psychological phenomenon of Cognitive Dissonance Theory, whereby it is claimed that our brain invents justifications for the advantages of something that we have just invested a lot of time, energy or money into. There is good statistical backing for this. However, I just say that yes, it claimed a lot of work on my part, and that does make it special to me. Things that come cheaply are not valued as highly as things we have worked for. This waterfall will always remain special to me, because I gave so much to it, and it did not spurn me, but greeted me with ethereal, ephemeral beauty of wispy veils of delicate white mist, partly obscuring fresh, lush but rather diminutive pandani trees and masses of moss.

There were far more fungi than flowers on this trip. A patch of maybe five clusters of Ramaria botritis caught my eye.

My only regret of the whole day was that I couldn’t spend hours there, but we are on the lean side of the equinox, and the sun would not allow me this luxury. Having hurried here, I now had to hurry back in a race against the dark.
My race did not proceed without several more lovely social happenings, however. The people I now passed wanted to know how the waterfall was; of course I had to tell them. Then, as I was passing Froggy Flats, I heard my name being called. It was a former school captain of Church Grammar, and thus old friend now. I could have spent hours catching up, but we had to agree to do so in Hobart later. We did a small bit there, and I got introduced to his family. He said he was just telling them that the very reason he was standing in that spot was because of Bruce and me. I felt very emotional about that. You help students, you introduce them to things you love, you share with them. When you hear that it has had a profound influence on their life, it is very meaningful, and it also sent me a pang of grief at the loss of my dear Bruce.

Lots of sections of my walk traversed lush wet forest – always such a joy

Back at Pelion Hut, and having a more substantial food break, someone I didn’t think I knew came rushing out of the hut, greeting me by name (and with a welcome hug). It turns out she was from the ABC and had done a recent interview with me when one of my photos had won third place in a big international photography competition. We had a lovely talk, and someone else from the hut brought me a cup of ginger and lemon tea. How fabulous is that (thanks Tyler)!
And so, now it was time for the final 2.5 hours of my stint … or longer. I was getting tired, and yes, it lasted 2 hrs 50, as my freshness was evaporating. This section was not without social interaction, as I met two more friendly people and, well, this is Tassie. When you meet someone in the bush you don’t just mutter hello and pass by; you interact, and I was no longer on the Overland section of the walk with its crowds of tourists. This bit isn’t in tour guides, so the people you meet are locals. Hoorah.
I felt confident that I would be back before dark, so was no longer hurrying. I’m glad I moved on when I did, however, as I got back to the car right at the end of the visible day. I now had a two-hour drive to undertake with full fatigue. For me, the dangers are not those of the bush, but those of the road on the way home. I want to stay alive for my family, and also for my dog. If I died on the road, who would know to feed a waiting Tessie? So, I had arranged for my friend Evelyn to go and feed her should something happen to me. I gave her texts when I could to report progress. Meanwhile, my darling daughters chatted to me on the phone (hands free), partly to tell me about Easter, but also, I suspect, partly to help keep me awake at the danger end of a fabulous day.

April 5, 2021

Trestle Falls 2021

I had a free day in Hobart, and there had been good rain about a week ago, so, hopeful that water would still be flowing, I set out for the newly mapped and named Trestle Falls, lying not surprisingly on Trestle Creek, which flows down from Trestle Mountain.

When I looked at the map, I decided the best approach would be via the publess, shopless hamlet of Mountain River, and use the track called Mountain River Trail that emanates from the Mountain River Road terminus.

I have actually never used this trail, having only climbed Trestle Mountain using the Mt Connection track to its east. That track was wide and boring. This one was a narrow, green path which I greatly enjoyed. I used the track to gain height; the falls, however, do not lie on any tracks, and navigation and “bush bashing” (not much bashing went on) are needed to get there. There was certainly an amount of ducking, climbing and weaving. This is for experienced bush people. Using the track, I worked out from the shape of the land when I was on the same contour as the falls would be, and left its ease and headed into the bush on contour to reach the lowest of the falls.

The forest was not difficult to traverse, and was delightfully green. Even better, there was, oh joy, no ugly blasted pink tape to mar its beauty or kill the animals. Obviously, this waterfall was in the south, where the population seems to be less inclined to ruin every scrap of bush they can find. (I’m allowed to criticise the north, as that’s where I live. Are there any untaped waterfalls left up there? Don’t say which ones, or they’ll have plastic littering them by tomorrow.)

Anyway, this waterfall was a “choose your own route and adventure” one, a dying breed, and I loved it for that. I enjoyed the uncertainty of reaching my goal, which makes finding it so much more pleasurable.

I found four waterfalls that I considered to be worthy of setting up and photographing. You could call it more if you counted some of the “doubles”. I didn’t, so called it four. My bottom one, number 4, was lower than the one called Lower by Caedence, so I called it Lowest Trestle Falls. Then came Lower, my favourite. Middle was pretty nice and Upper, well, it was better protected than the others – ie, less accessible – and I’m not sure that the effort would justify a return visit. Definitely, for me, falls 2 and 3 won the beauty prizes. The top falls, that are where the falls are on the map, are certainly the tallest, but size isn’t everything in my books.

My route back was not a good one, as I was extravagant with the height gain out of the top falls, and had more obstacles to deal with at that height. Although it was downhill, and theoretically quicker, I took longer than on the climb up to reach the falls. My route in was 43 minutes from car to the bottom falls, the route out nearer to 50. The catch is that I spent 1 hr 15 covering maybe 200 ms between the top and bottom, due to massive amounts of photography. Even so, I was back in time for a late lunch, and full of joy at the lovely forest I had been immersed in. For me, to photograph beauty is to become united with it. I totally lose myself and merge with whatever it is I am photographing. It is a very liberating activity.

April 2, 2021June 23, 2021

Bruny Island 2021 Mar

In my family, we value time – and in particular, time together – far more than things, and, although I was given some very nice “things”, my most treasured gift of my recent birthday was the time that my Tassie family was able to give me: three days, although, in fact, it kind of became a birthday week.

And what extravagant thing did we do with this time together? A luxury cruise? A flight somewhere? No. We rented an AirBnb at Adventure Bay on Bruny Island and had bushwalks, fungi hunts, beach races and a mountain climb. Here is our itinerary:
Day 0. Arrive

Day 1. Photograph the dawn. A.m.: Fungi hunt in the Mavista Reserve (5 kms). Picnic lunch on an unnamed beach. And in the afternoon, my daughter and I walked the Labillardiere Track while Keith minded the children. This was 25 km equivalents, done at a talking march in 3 hrs 30. We both enjoy a good workout, and walking quickly meant the time we were gone was less. Our route was clockwise, and we really loved the second half of this route, along the coast with myriad beaches and the water beside us. The sign says 6 – 6.5 hours, which would be more realistic as a meander pace.

Day 2. Lucky I didn’t run that 25 kms yesterday, as the children chose beach racing as the morning’s activity, and I was about to need all my legs could offer, which wasn’t quite enough. The beach is 1.7 kms long. Based on his speed when he joined me on a training run last year, I gave Gus 30 seconds’ start. He shot out on “Go” like a bullet. I thought: “There’s no way he’ll keep that up; I’ll catch him shortly after half way.”

He covered a lot of ground in his thirty seconds! Off I set in hot pursuit, but appeared to be gaining absolutely nothing. Somewhere in the halfway region, I thought maybe I had reined in a single metre, but he pulled ahead again, and once he sniffed the finish approaching, was off like a chasing cheetah to the line, making distance on me with every stride. This is the first time he has legitimately beaten me, and he did it with style. We celebrated his win with an ice cream. I am proud of him. Good distance running is the reflection of a good lifestyle, not just good genes.

Adventure Bay. Beach running is such fun.

Meanwhile, and not to be totally outdone by big brother, little Abby made dad look slow, even if he wasn’t on full throttle. She just can’t wait to be old enough to do school races like Gussy does. At five she will be offered a Teddybear race and Egg and spoon. I’m not sure if she’ll be allowed a straight sprint.

In the afternoon, we all climbed Mt Mangana, with many, many colourful fungi to be cheered about along the way. Gussy helped me photograph a selection on our way back down.

Fluted Cape walk. Gussy about to reach the highest point on the track

Day 3. Unfortunately, we had to pack up for the first part of the morning, but were then able to squeeze in the Fluted Cape walk before lunch. Gussy and I took about fifty minutes in each direction; Abby, a bit longer. This time we did the route anti-clockwise. I have now done it in both directions, and am really hard pressed to say which one I prefer: each offers different advantages.

Fluted Cape walk. Looking to Penguin Island

And sadly, after lunch it was time to drive home. I could happily live on Bruny!

March 19, 2021June 15, 2021

Cullen, Twelvetrees Range, The Needles and more

Ever stuffed up arrangements for the start of a walk? What did you do?
Here’s what I did on this occasion.
As I explained in my previous blog*, I had been up most of the night worrying, getting only three hours’ sleep, before driving 2.5 hours north to pack my bag. There was then a 3.5 hours’ drive to reach my meeting place with the other bushwalkers of the group in the far SW of the state. Trouble is, with so much fatigue, so little sleep and so very much stress, despite setting out before the others, I didn’t quite make our rendez-vous, and when I tried to find them early next morning, they were neither where they said they’d sleep, nor where they would park at the start of the walk. I searched and drove to and fro for half a day. Had I found their car, I would have given chase, but there was no sign of it. Had they had an accident or been unexpectedly delayed? I drove back to the Needles saddle, where there is range, but there was no sign of a missed call or message. By an early lunchtime, I decided I now had what was left of three days to do my own thing. Oh the choices!!!! Such a wealth of them once one is down in the south west!

Hygrocybe firma at the base of The Needles. I was not expecting fungi here!

I had been going to climb to Pandani Shelf for photographic purposes (not using the out-of-bounds route), but the reality and the forecast proclaimed that clouds would dominate up there, so I decided for some lower joys that would nonetheless involve climbing.

Blandfordia punicea. I WAS hoping for that. These are called Christmas Bells. They seem to have failed to have noticed that it’s March.

I ate an early lunch, and settled on my first goal: The Needles, which I have climbed many times before, but never with small children in mind. Now was the time to climb specifically watching for aspects that might daunt pint-size people (like metre-high steps or huge mud baths). If all was well, then we could come here as a family in April. I have also never devoted time on the Needles to examining the flora of the region, and was interested to see if plants were recovering after the fires of two years ago.
My other question was, how long would it take: was it a good length for a diminutive five year old?

The pictures tell you that I found very beautiful flowers, and meanwhile, I decided that we can definitely bring the children, although Abby will need lifting (“flying”, she calls it) over some of the two-metre-long stretches of gooey mud, … and perhaps a hand up some of the steeper parts where sliding backwards is possible (very few of these).

The amount of burnt devastation is very sad, and yet the new growth brings hope, and many of the shrubs are recovering nicely. I even found a Geum talbotianum, which the web tells me is on the threatened species list.
Back in the carpark, I met two other very friendly plant enthusiasts, who recommended Tims Track to me, so that seemed like an excellent suggestion. My focus would switch to fungi.

The above fungi were the first to greet me. How could you miss that? They were huge and bold and cheery. I had met more lovely people in the carpark here, so was feeling generally cheerful. I might be alone on this trip, but I was certainly not lonely, and was enjoying meeting other like-minded souls.

The above fungus was part of a little cluster of canary yellow fungi, also pretty big and bold, yelling “Hello” to me as I involved myself with their world.

The Hygrocybe lewelliniae I happened upon was far more subtle. I don’t always require a siren to stop me in my tracks. This fungus has now changed its name, but I am sick of unlearning and learning anew, only to have the new one change – and of buying expensive books to have them out of date by the time I’ve brought them home. I express my discontent by using the names I have originally learned (mostly), and by not buying a $50 update which I know is already behind the times. Also, philosophically (and possibly more to the point), I am a joiner rather than a divider. Constantly splitting genera into smaller groups doesn’t suit my personality. Where we place dividing lines is a decision made by humans about nature; nature doesn’t necessitate that particular decision.

So, before I aggravate any more splitters, let us move on to my next goal, Mt Cullen, which had been on my bucket list for many years. It is the combination of the long drive and the problem of always needing to find a dog-sitter that has kept me away. Here was my golden opportunity. Having not planned to be here, I had no information, so just chose a starting point that looked appealing and climbed up.

I reached the first “summit” in 52 minutes; however, it was not the real summit. Now I was up high, I could see that the ridge led to a higher point, just across the way. However, the route was decorated with jagged rocks with a precipitous drop, and scrub in between. I battled the scrub rather than losing height (bad move), and eventually reached the summit with a bit of acrobatic work that I was not actually comfortable with, so chose an easier route for my exit / descent. It was not necessary to be so “daring”. Anyway, the twenty minutes that summit to summit took helped me kill some time: I had hoped I could spin the climb out for long enough to get sunset from a slightly raised perch, yet still get down with enough light to avoid an accident.

Mt Cullen sunset – not an overdose of colour, but better than nothing.

Once I was sure I could easily get down without trouble, I just sat and appreciated being there, waiting for colour. It was not a grand fanfare, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.
Back at the car, I had to decide which of all the thousands of possible spots to choose from, would be my piece of territory for the night. I chose a beach, parked the car, prepared it for sleeping and enjoyed the rest of the fading light while perched on a rock eating my dinner.

The menu for day two was pretty similar to that of day one: A mountain or two, some recce work, fungi, wildflowers and beautiful forest.
The recce work was on Mt Wedge, sussing it out for the possibility of sleeping on high – but tonight was not going to offer any views, so I’d bide my time. The new mountain was Twelvetrees Range, which I really loved. Its open ridge had a “Sound of Music” feel to it. I could easily have been on Skye, in the Lakes or in Iceland up there with no bush to bash through and big views of water and other mountains. It was great choose-your-own-route stuff, and I wandered happily all over the ridge top. Doing it like that meant the descent to the road at the end was VERY steep. (Under an hour up; more than, down, as I chose a longer, harder route).

Twelvetrees Range – one of my favourite sections

I rewarded myself with food from the lodge, and then set about exploring the Lodge’s Forest Walk (no great finds there today), the Creepy Crawly Trail (this would be more correctly named The Ducky Weavy Trail) and revisiting Tims Track. The weather was far from photographically exciting, so I wended my way slowly east.

I love that cute, almost transparent Hygrocybe graminicolor . You may well be asking where the green is, but it can often be washed out like this. The form of its friends and neighbours enjoying the same moss close by indicates to me it was just bigger and more fragile then they were, but still part of the happy family.
I was going to sleep near the Needles, but the wind was howling and the dark clouds were swirling around me, and I decided that after all I have been through recently, I didn’t feel like moody but felt more like being beside a stream nearer the Mt Field National Park so headed even further east, arriving at my spot by the river after dark.

On my final day, my choice seemed to be between climbing Mt Mawson or more fungi hunting. The fungi had been so rewarding I opted for them, so explored the area around the Junee River, with some good finds.

And thus ends my weekend: a lot less strenuous than originally planned, but perhaps that was exactly what my body needed, and I certainly found some lovely jewels, and even met some friendly people in carparks – always a bonus.

http://www.natureloverswalks.com/wellington-kunanyi-anxiety detox/

Routes for Cullen or Twelvetrees Ra available on request.