tasmania - Natureloverswalks

April 21, 2019July 11, 2019

Hellyer Tributary Falls i D-F 2019

As I set out for home heading west, the Hellyer Tributary Falls were only one of several options in my mind, but somewhere along my journey, I decided it was the one for the day. I had researched these falls a short while ago, and thought I had the information in my phone.

Alas, when I parked and went to retrieve the exact location of these falls, I discovered the area has no mobile coverage, and that I thus couldn’t open the message that contained their whereabouts. I was faced with three little tributaries, any one of which could contain the object of my quest.

Hellyer Tributary Lower Cascades (Falls F)

I thought I remembered them being on the right hand one, but was not at all confident. Off I set through magically lush forest. At first there was a pad, and some pink ribbons, but I got dumped by both, and forged my own way along the creek. After 14 minutes, I came to a nice little cascade, which I photographed (now called retrospectively, Falls F in the group, just for those counting), and another few minutes beyond that, reached the double waterfall (that I have now labelled “falls D and E”), depicted below. I loved the second of this duo-drop.

Were they the falls I was actually seeking? They didn’t really quite fit my memory, so I was unsure and pushed on. The river became very choked at this stage. I went to where I had a bit of a view ahead, which contained no falls, so decided that either what I had photographed was my goal, or that the falls lay on the right fork of the other offshoot. I took a higher route through the forest to go a bit further, and explored for a bit, but that creek was very cluttered with fallen rubbish, so turned around at that point.

mycena interrupta having a family Easter gathering

I had seen lots of fungi, so decided I would prefer to photograph fungi in my remaining time than flounder around searching for something when I had insufficient information. The fungi were fabulous: my favourites: mycena interrupta. But oh, they are so winzy small that they are very challenging to shoot. Ini the mud I rolled, providing excellent fodder for investigative leeches.

After I finished and had set out for home, I once more entered mobile land, and was able to see my original hunch was correct, but that I hadn’t, in fact, gone far enough, and that the falls I really wanted were higher up: hence my label of the ones I did find as “D, E and F”. At that stage I felt satisfied with my catch for the day and continued the drive home. I have saved other treats for a later occasion. (Obviously, from the lettering, you can see that I found lot more later.)

April 10, 2019April 14, 2019

Western Creek Falls 2019 Apr

Western Creek minor falls

It was raining and misty outside, which seemed like a perfect day for going to Western Creek Falls. What I didn’t realise until said falls and I bumped into each other, was that these conditions would make it just about impossible to get a shot that did not have droplets splattered all over my lens (and image). I have never had such a juggling act. I would wipe the lens, but keep the cloth over the glass. I would guess at the settings, as checking properly in live view meant I would expose glass to the environment. I worked out that using the delay timer just gave water more time to attack, as did long exposure. So, I pressed the trigger whilst simultaneously dashing away the cloth, with an exposure of less than a second. How was it? Na. More droplets. Try again.

It was a little frustrating, and meanwhile, I was getting soaked … and cold. Ah, meanwhile, have I mentioned that I was perched on a slippery rock with not only a waterfall above me, but one dropping away below my feet? This is a two-tiered fall, and I was between tiers … and possibly between tears. It was unnerving being where I was when the water was so powerful and when a single wrong step would see me tumble to my presumed death. There was a strand of wire spanning the gap across the water, which I clung to for safety, but holding so many things made me feel rather clumsy.

Western Creek Falls were pumping. Upper Tier here.

Meanwhile, you ask, how was the track Louise? I decided to do the loop on this, my first visit, just to see if I like it. The outward, easterly route was very steep indeed – so much so that my foot slipped backwards a few times, and I was wearing my good boots. But the water was completely missing. I could neither see nor hear it, and if you look at the map below, you’ll see why. The creek is not near this route. It took 32 minutes before I could see it far below me. In 42 minutes, I had reached the point between upper and lower falls. It was mossy enough, although not exuberantly so; there were no fungi, although it is April; and I had to cross two rock-laden landslides, which are hardly attractive. At least they were small.

The way back, however, was sheer delight. It stuck nice and close to the water for far more of its length, was attractively small and quaint, and was mossy and lush. Down below me, I could see heaps of tempting smaller waterfalls, some of which I photographed, having more luck in the forest with keeping my glass dry. Next time, I will go both directions using this path, but you have to try things out so you know.

The start of this track, called the Western Creek Track, is just a bit on from Higgs Track. You can approach it from Dairy Plains (turnoff at Needles), or from Chudleigh. You head for Western Creek township, but diverge before you get there onto Westrope Road, heading south. There is a blue sign, but only visible if you are coming from the SE. I overshot and ended up nearly in Western Creek, so got to see the sign coming from that direction. Westrope Road continues all the way. Higgs Track diverges off this with a sign. The road then crosses Western Creek before climbing a bit to the start. Even that first crossing was pretty today with so much water.

I love visiting waterfalls for their beauty, for the opportunity they provide for my photography, and for their exercise value: I enjoy it when they give me a good workout. This track was very short – only 1.77 kms one way, but nice and steep: 300 ms climb in that short distance. I took 42 minutes from the car to the spot between tiers, and 44 minutes back down again. That’s a nice-lengthed workout. I was out in time for lunch in a nearby cafe, and home early afternoon to do some home tasks. Half-day jaunts are good if you’re pressed for time. That said, if I strike nicer weather next time, I’d like to go all the way up to the top and onto the Mt Ironstone massif. Today was a recce.

April 6, 2019July 1, 2022

Evercreech Falls REAL 2019 Feb

Evercreech Falls REAL 2019 Feb

Visitors to the Falls named “Evercreech Falls” (on the map, and in the web), must, surely, have wondered at the ‘much ado about nothing’ of what they found. The labelled tumble is a tiny trickle of a thing, moseying its way quietly and with no shape down a fault in a cliff. It has no form, no substance, and is not particularly photogenic.

But, just around the corner, and not connected by a track, and with no hype, signage or anything other than a little blue line on some maps to signify its existence, lies another waterfall, which HAS to be the REAL Evercreech Falls. How and why did that little trickle get to take on the name of the master lies hidden in the mystery of history. (A clerk’s error? A transcription folly? A deliberate ploy to keep the almighty tourist safe as the real one is too tricky? Who knows?)

But, as the Ugly Duckling is to the Real Beauty, so is that prelude of a thing called officially Evercreech Falls (which does not even lie on the Evercreech Rivulet) to the one I am calling Evercreech Falls REAL, to emphasise the false claims of the imposter. Last year, I investigated several other blue lines on the map in that area, and came up with not much for my reward. But this one … this one is a beauty. There is no track to it, and you are bound to fall in the drink as you boulder hop and slide your way upstream (many boulders are decked with slippery black moss. I felt myself sliding quietly backwards and didn’t put up a fight. To fall slowly was better than to fight and crash and break a bone).

My photos are – sorry – sub-standard. The capricious sun is entirely to blame. I was only here by accident, passing by with time on my hands, so decided to do a recce to see if I could actually reach them. I began at 9 a.m., and took an hour to arrive at the base from the car, by which time there was far too much contrast on the rocks and a greater dynamic range than my camera could handle. My shots are hints of what is to come when I return on a better day.
PS Be careful of Tigers. A resident sunning himself did NOT appreciate my visit, and rose to attack me. I crossed the river rather than sort out which of us could win that battle.

On my return, I stayed high and out of the river for as long as possible, just to see if, in winter when the water is stronger and colder, it would be possible to keep my tootsies dry. I stayed mostly out, but I would not count on dry feet if you are going to do this one.

At the end, with feet already wet, I just marched down the stream rather than pick my way. That was quicker and easier. As I approached the actual track going to the labelled falls, a group of Asian tourists saw me and thought I must be hopelessly lost, trying to find the falls they were about to reach – but, hey, they had a guide and so knew the way. Magnanimously, they all wanted to help me out of the water (which, surely, I did not want or mean to be in), and a mass of sweet, generous hands reached down to aid me. I kind of swung and hopped out, earning their surprise and laughter. We came from very different worlds, but it was a fun intersection at that moment.

April 2, 2019July 1, 2022

Vera Creek Falls, Frenchmans Cap

Vera Creek Falls, Frenchmans Cap 2019 Mar

Vera Creek Falls 6.

Vera Creek Falls were not initially the object of our bushwalk. It was my birthday, and my daughter had taken the day off work and tossed in the weekend to climb a mountain with me. The trouble was, the rain was howling more fiercely than the wind, and my daughter had hurt her knee two weeks before doing a race in NSW called the Six Foot Track, which is so gruelling that her runs up Mt Wellington seemed nugatory as practice. Camping on Baron Pass for night number one was pruned back to limping into Vera Hut just as darkness was beginning to require a head torch if we’d been out any longer. (In case you think she was REALLY injured, I’d better add that we didn’t get started until 3pm.) I’d watched the limp develop early on, during the very first climb, and worsen with each successive slope. One thing at a time, but things did not bode well for the morrow.

Hygrocybe roseoflavida

Now, as adumbrated, we were sopping wet by the time we descended the final drop into the hut, and had been discussing how very nice it would be if someone else just happened to be in the hut, and if they also just happened to have the fire lit. Sigh. Dream on. “Hey mum, I see a light,” Kirsten exclaimed. “Oh wow. Do you think they know how to light a fire?”

Vera Creek Falls 4

We opened the door and peeped around the corner, but we didn’t need to ask our question. The magnificent warmth of the glowing stove greeted us, as did the welcome smiles of seven or … was it nine?… happy faces. While we dumped our sodden packs and pulled out our sleeping bags and dry clothes, these guys pampered us by collecting water from the tank outside and hanging up my horrid lumps of fabric (I am too small to reach the pegs). We chatted convivially while we eventually ate our dinner, and had good fun together.

Kirsten was not in a rush next morning, and I figured we had little chance of summitting considering the state of her knee and the rather appalling weather out the door, so we took things gently, both in terms of departure time and pace. I have never wandered through this forest at such a relaxed speed, and it gave us both time to enjoy all the aborning fungi more thoroughly. There is nothing like rainforest in the rain. Every leaf glistened. The moss was spongy and thick. And as for Vera Creek, it wanted to challenge Niagara. Even the track was a waterfall worthy of photos. We sloshed and admired. I didn’t take too many photos on the way up – just enough to be happy but allow me to catch up in between shots.

Vera Creek Falls 2

It was late morning by the time we reached Baron Pass. The sky was black ahead. Thick clouds obscured all mountains. And yet, the sun shone in a tiny circle that happened to contain us. Always being a little hungry, I suggested an early lunch during the lull between downpours, and I was so glad I did. By the time we’d finished, it was deluging again, and we decided to head for base and skip the idea of a mountain. Back we went, with far more photography this time, slosh slosh, all the way to the hut, where we read and did some exercises to stay warm, ate more and then it was time for dinner. Kirsten lit the fire while I cooked, and all was cosy for the other four walkers who opened the door.

The way out was uneventful: more fungi, more water, more rain, and more good luck when it came to my need for snacking, in that the rain stopped briefly to give us a respite, and then made up for its gentillesse once our packs were back on. Luckily we both think that rainforest in the rain is a real treat.
Can you believe that on the way out, we met another mother and offspring combo celebrating a birthday by having three days in the same area? Fynn and his mum from Western Australia were there for his twentieth birthday. We gave each other a high-five before parting in our opposite directions. It’s nice to know that someone else knows abut perfect birthday presents.
Waterfall aficionados, note: there were at least six falls on this creek that were worth photographing, some of which are shown here. Others were not photographed, as they would have involved my spoiling beautiful forest to get a good line, so I just admired them and left them alone. Others had too much clutter to be photogenic. This selection will suffice.
And thanks to Terry Reid for all the interesting historical material to read that is there in the hut to help while away some time waiting for the next meal.

March 21, 2019July 1, 2022

Svengali Falls 2019 Mar

Svengali Falls 2019 Mar

These are “lower Svengali Falls.” The main ones are just visible behind.
“Carrie”, I screeched (yes, screeched), “I can see them up ahead; Svengali Falls.” We both did a whoopee of excitement, and, when she joined me, a high five that was very, very, both highish and fivish. We were relieved and happy. I feared we were doomed to spend the rest of our lives trying to make a way up this tangled stream. Carrie was confident that we’d reach it, but thought it could take a lot longer than it did. She also feared that one of us might get injured in the attempt.

This is in an easy section. All we had to do was continue up the slippery creek. The difficult sections demanded too much attention to go a-photgraphing. Injuries certainly seemed a highly likely item for the menu: not only was the rainforest rotted from the inside out so that logs appeared to be logs and trees, trees, until you put some weight on them, after which they’d crumble to mossy humus, but also, the creek itself, being the lowest point between two steep sides, held the debris from every storm that has ravaged the area for probably millennia. In order to move forward, we sometimes had to climb big distances up seemingly vertical cliffs; other times, we had to find a way around whopping logs whose girths were greater than our height; still others, there would be a fallen, multi-furcated tree that presented us with a jumble of branches that was daunting, and insurmountable. Up another diff we’d go. Climbing over seemed far too risky, as each branch was slippery and of unknown strength. It would be possible to fall metres if one collapsed.

I had warned Carrie that she’d get her feet wet, as a minimum. I hoped we wouldn’t be wading waist deep, but it was impossible to tell in advance. I didn’t even know if we could get through if the water was too high. I hadn’t bothered to contemplate the wetness of passing ferns and leaves and of the mossy logs we necessarily sat on to get over them. Let us just say: “We got wet.”

Behind are the upper – the real – Svengali Falls. We climbed up a steep spur to the left to get nearer the base, but the most photogenic position was here, so this is what you’re getting. She’s vain enough having been hidden for so long, to want to appear with her best side forward.
I was so excited to achieve our goal that I honestly didn’t care one iota about the quality of any photos I might take. This was a waterfall whose objective was the achievement of getting there, and the sense of adventure that moving through territory like that entails. As we retraced our steps (photo session completed), we were in more of a mood to spend the time appreciating the green wonderland we were momentary part of. It was a special feeling to have overcome the hurdles of the exercise and to be part of such primaeval forest. Another high five as we gained the track for “normal” people at the was in order. Mission complete.