Upper Liffey Falls 2021

It had been snowing for several days during the week, so I went up to the Upper Liffey Falls and Pine Lake to photograph a white wonderland. However, most of the snow had melted. Sometimes we don’t get what we hope for. But in that failure to achieve white, I still found many rich browns and scenes of sombre beauty. Here are a few photos from my day. There is also a 2017 post on Upper Liffey Falls should you want to see more.
http://www.natureloverswalks.com/upper-liffey-falls/

Richea acerosa
Snowy scene. Pencil pine behind
Upper Liffey Falls
Athrotaxis cupressoides. Pencil Pine, proving that it’s frost resistant.

I had intended to do more exploring on the other side of the road, and set out in that direction, but I was wearing brand new overpants, and I needed to wear them for wind protection. However, there is a lot of scoparia over there, and I didn’t think anything I saw could justify the expense of yet another pair of waterproof pants, so turned around and saved myself 160 dollars.

Waterfalls off the early Overland Track 2021 May

Having had such a fabulous day on Easter Sunday, when I did my long haul (55.6 kms) to see and photograph Pelion Falls, I was eager to try for another big day. Again, without measuring before I set out (partly so as not to fill myself with doubt), I looked at the map and decided I would try for a bunch of little blue lines on the map to the east of the Overland Track, and just see what I got. Surely I would at least get Branigan Falls (the only ones that had a name), and anything else was a bonus.

Nothofagus gunnii; lights up in response to the low sun, Cradle

Because of the boom gate that serious bushwalkers now have to deal with if we want to do more than a tourist waddle around Dove Lake, I had to get up at 4.40 to be away in a time that would get me through the gate before 8 a.m., when the park is turned over to tourists doing cute wanders. The path in the environs of the lake is now so wide and smooth they can probably wear their high heel shoes.
There is always great anxiety when approaching the gate in case the rules have changed again, and you have made all this effort, only to be locked out anyway. My heart beat far faster than during any of the day’s exertions as I waited for the gate to lift. Phew. I had passed through. Now I could relax, and going a bit less than the very sensible 40 kph limit in an area where a wombat could unconcernedly amble into your path at any second, I enjoyed the magic forest and the light playing amongst the leaves.

Nothofagus gunnii Cradle Mountain

We are no longer allowed to reach the lake – only tourists in busses can do that these days -, so I parked at the last possible place, making a long day longer, and began the race against time with a handicap, but with happiness anyway, as I was at last walking, even if the time available to do what I wanted was now less than it used to be. Most people tell me they then walk up the sealed, wide, ugly road for 2kms before beginning their real walk. This has zilch appeal to me, so I headed for the Crater Lake path and went up that way. I suspected I was adding a half hour to my journey in each direction. I had a head torch.
I was aware when making my plans that the fagus (Nothofagus gunnii – a deciduous Tasmanian native tree) was late this year, and that if I were lucky, I might well catch some up high, near the southern end of the lake.

Richea pandanifolia competing with the fagus for stunning beauty

My focus on waterfalls entirely shifted when I witnessed the beauty that awaited me. Thank goodness I didn’t have to share it with the busloads. One girl I met later told me she was on top of Cradle and one such tourist had brought a “ghetto blaster” and entirely ruined the spiritual experience of every single other person there by playing his choice of music so loudly they all had to listen to it instead of imbibing beautiful silence.
But I was alone and had this stunning world to myself in all its quietness and sanctity. I forgot my haste and need to rush to achieve my goals in the time allotted, and just relaxed into the moment of beauty. Who cared if I got no waterfalls? Not I.

Glory Falls Cradle Mt NP

Photography finished for a short while, but camera ever ready, strapped to my chest, on I went. Up up up to Marions Lookout, and then a tiny bit higher still before eventually dropping to Kitchen Hut, and my first pack break for a quick drink and bite to eat. I have been doing a lot of hefty uphill running this week. Whoops. My legs were already a bit tired. Oh. I’ll try to start fresher next time I get one of these long days into my head.
Around the belly of Cradle I went, and eventually down the path that I always enjoy to Waterfall Valley Hut, which I reached in less than 2 hours 40 from Waldheim. That was OK. If I wanted to be back at the car by 6.30, I didn’t need to leave this hut until nearly 4 pm, if I needed / wanted that much time. Now my actual adventure was near to beginning. I didn’t need another break yet, and I thought I would have it at the first waterfall, relaxing by the flowing water.

What do you say?

I had never eyed up the territory to the east of the track with walking there in mind, and imagined it to be pretty thickly bushed and not exactly fast forest. What I found was more kind of alpine plains with max thigh-high bushes, and sometimes much better than that. I was pleasantly surprised. I visited six waterfalls, four of which were blue lines on the map, two of which were more cascades than falls, but they were bigger and more photogenic than at least one of the marked waterfalls, which I actually didn’t even bother to shoot.
The forecast had been for a cloudy day from 10 a.m. onwards, so I kept waiting for the clouds to roll in, but they would have none of it. That is their right, but their absence did ruin some of the falls I shot. My favourite falls I have called Glory Falls, as a deep sense of glory filled me, even before I had reached the base. I took just a phone shot from above as the “view” was all hints and potential, and the drop vertical and seemingly infinite. I could see no possible way down, but, well, I kept trying and lo and behold, I reached a point down stream of the falls, and then worked my way up along a chasm, sometimes in the water, and then reached a kind of pandani- and moss-filled chamber with honeyed rocks, and lacey water adding charm. I decided in this place that I didn’t care for any more waterfalls. I just wanted to linger longer here, maybe forever. “Verweile doch, du bist so schön”,

The beauty rolls on

How long was I there? Who knows? Who cares? Eventually I was momentarily satisfied, or, satisfied enough to move on, but I was kind of in a beauty-trance for hours afterwards, and can’t tell you much about anything. I did photograph some more waterfalls, but I felt very complete, and just kind of filled in some more time doing what I’d come to do, but then I decided enough was enough and I was ready to turn around early. I don’t stuff myself at feasts.
The way back was nearly as sociable as my return from Pelion Falls. Funnily, the first people I met were three people I know, who wanted to climb Barn Bluff, but didn’t want to get up at 4.40 to beat the gate, and thus had no car to get back to, so had to turn one day into three to get around the locked gate problem at each end of their days. They were enjoying the view on the Cirque.

Yet another nameless wonder

I met two who were running with big packs on. They had climbed Barn Bluff, but were now anxious about missing the bus, so had to rush through the scenery in order to make it by the 4.30 pumpkin hour.
Once I reached the creek issuing from Kathleens Pool, the light was becoming interesting. I knew I would easily make the car in the light, and, due to incredible amounts of smoke in the air, the light was turning pink, even though it was only about 3.45 pm. I was peckish, so decided I would have a nice long snack and watch the light for a half hour or so. I was just enjoying munching and drinking and enjoying light when an exhausted looking couple came by and stopped for a brief chat. They looked not only weary, but also a bit despondent as they explained there was no way they could make the bus, so, although they had just climbed their first mountain ever (Cradle), they now had to walk an extra 10 kms after they finished, to get back to the Visitors’ Centre, where their car was. They were not complaining, but they were far from excited by what lay ahead, especially as this 10kms would be on a sealed road.

Waterfall wonder

I liked them, so I told them that if they could just go a bit faster so I didn’t have to wait too long, and if they used my route, I would drive them back to the Visitors’ Centre.  I told them to set out now whilst I was still eating so as to give themselves a head start. I was at the tail end of a very long day, and still had a 2.5 hour drive once I had finished walking, which was maybe at least an hour more yet. I was in grave danger of falling asleep at the wheel, so didn’t want to be too delayed by these people, lovely as they were. The look of relief on their faces had no price tag.

Lacey splash

Alas, I caught them at Marions, so started taking photos as I went to slow myself down. They were relieved to see my reduction in pace and agenda, so took photos too. Ah well, what the heck. The three of us photographed the evening, and got to the car just before dark. The girl wanted to see a wombat, so I told her where to find them, and went quickly off to the toilet while she photographed. As I dropped them off, it was about 5.30, too early for dinner yet, so I told them where they could find food.
“There’s a pretty good place at Moina”, I said.
“Oh, so do we just go to the town centre and look for food?”, asked the guy., who had just googled what he thought was something substantial.
I roared with laughter.
“There is one building, and it sells food, so I guess it is the town centre, yes.”
They laughed too.

Enjoying afternoon light on Cradle while I have a snack

After they left my car, I realised that in this age of Covid, things like we had just experienced would become, or had already become, a big rarity. Hospitality to strangers is perhaps a thing of the past with the fear that a stranger from inter-state, as these two were, might be carrying the dreaded disease. I have never been a health-risk-and-safety fanatic. Hospitality, kindness and good will are very important to me.

There are benefits from lingering longer

My big danger was now falling asleep while driving home. Not for the first time, I managed to talk to my daughters on the phone to see me through the worst of my drowsiness. Normally, loud opera does it, but it had been a very long day with that 4.40 rise.  I kept slapping my legs and scratching my arms to hurt myself into wakefulness, but it wasn’t doing the trick. The phone did the job. My dog was very glad that I was still alive so she could get dinner.

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.

Pelion Falls

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).

Pelion Falls

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).

Pelion Falls

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.

Pelion Falls

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.

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.

Trestle Falls Lowest

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.

Trestle Falls Lower

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.)

Trestle Falls Middle

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.

Trestle Falls Middle

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.

Trestle Falls Upper

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.

Tarkine: Nelson Bay R Falls, Elver Falls 2021

Tarkine: Nelson Bay Falls, Elver Falls, fungi and flowers.

Sunrise at Stanley, the start of a very long day

It seems I am a girl who drove a very long way for something that never happened, as the reason I went to the Tarkine was to kayak to the Elver Falls. However, when I got to Arthur River “township”, I couldn’t raise the people who hired out the boats (the river cruise man said they probably hadn’t put their hearing aids in yet). The shed in which the boat was hiding looked as if it needed  a lot more than a hearing aid.

Of course I had to photograph the Nut

The images available around the shed were of very elderly canoes, not of kayaks at all, and they looked a little like tubs. The wind was up and my broken wrist is only just out of its cage. My spirit of adventure was thus not high. I was prepared to kayak but canoeing made me uncertain, and I really felt uneasy in this state about popping my expensive camera gear in such a vessel. I had been very happy at Corinna, where the kayaks had a waterproof hold, and where everything seemed in excellent condition, but Arthur River ‘town’ just wasn’t doing it for me.

First kayak substitute: The Edge of the World, Arthur River

So, instead of kayaking, I went for a walk along a beach possibly more than appropriately dubbed ‘The Edge of the World’. It was remote, windy and atmospheric. The rocks were fabulous colours, and, as I enjoy wild seas, this substitute pleased. As usual for the Tarkine, however, I needed to get moving, as I didn’t want to eat greasies at Arthur River when lunchtime came, so needed to get somewhere that sold something more nutritious and tasty by late lunch.

Nelson Bay River Falls

South I drove, lamenting the fact that one seems to do far more driving than walking in the Tarkine, until I reached the Nelson Bay River, which sports a pretty waterfall within a stone’s throw (literally) of the bridge. I got to walk at least twelve paces at this spot. Luckily Tessie and I had had a lovely long walk on the beach at Stanley after breakfast, before leaving, so the day, which didn’t seem to be shaping up too well at this stage, wasn’t entirely devoid of exercise.

Nelson Bay River Falls

I decided to return to the north coast via the Julius River Reserve, as it offers a tiny little walk, and maybe there would be some fungi. My hunch was rewarded: there were indeed some wonderful fungi, and I found a second little walk, but I was feeling very under-exercised indeed. By the time I had finished with Julius River, however, I had eaten the lasagne I had brought and some snacks, and I really needed more food, so for the third time in three visits, I found myself exiting the Tarkine sooner than I might have, as I was hungry.

Epacris lanuginosa near the falls
Melaleuca squarrosa nearby

Sure, when I’m bushwalking I have my own food, but I am not bushwalking here. If I have to do lots of driving, then I like to reward myself with coffee and cake, and something tasty for lunch. Dehydrated food requires the eater to have exercised all day and be extraordinarily hungry before it even begins to taste tolerable. (After a full day’s walking, you’ll be pleased to learn, it tastes absolutely delicious.)

Camarophyllopsis ‘yellow’
Clavulinosis sulcata Tarkine Julius R reserve

Anyway, on we drove, heading for the shortest route home, which seemed to be via Smithton. By the time I reached the nice cafe above Boat Harbour, it was well after three o’clock and I was ravenous. That cafe fixed that, and on I drove home, arriving a couple of hours later with a whopping headache from too much driving.

Russula persanguinea

It seems that if I want to see the Elver Falls, I need to find someone with a double kayak who would also like to see them, or hire a light singleton near home and take it there from here.  No matter. It wasn’t to be this time, and now I have recovered from all that driving, I have happy memories of beaches and fungi and a few flowers ….. and of being hungry.

Clavulina subrugosa
Nelson Bay Falls