Tasmania Part VI (the end)

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cradle_Mountain This link will give you more information about the region .

The beginning of part IV and the end of my Tasmanian adventure starts at “The NUT” and in the quaint town of Stanley. This little gem of modern life is located on the north side and pretty close to the west corner of the island. The NUT is sort of like Ayers Rock/Uluru formation way out on a peninsula jutting into the Bass Strait. It’s commercialized and there’s a small ski lift that takes you to the top for $10. The paved and railed walk starts about half way up in the parking lot, right next to the gift shop and café. I was there shortly after sunrise; nothing was open and not a soul in sight. Exactly how I like my morning hikes! The climb took about 15 minutes and I have to admit was fairly steep. It was greater than a 45 degree angle all the way up. I stopped several times to admire view and catch my breath. Once on top and past the lift building the trail turned to dirt and levelled out. A welcome change for sure! The sun was just above the distant hills of eastern Tassie to my right. The field of 3’ tall grass glowed brightly before me glistening with morning dew. The trail lead around to the left along a fence and as I walked I notice they entire plateau was ravaged by rabbits holes everywhere. So many it was like honeycomb in a bee hive in some areas, the grass all bare and nibbled down. Surprisingly I didn’t see any rabbits at all. I did see one just as I left the parking lot but didn’t think anything of it. Australia does have well organized programs to eradicate certain non native invasive species of animals. So maybe the holes are left over from such a campaign?
See what so many days in the woods can do to you. You almost forget about the beautiful surrounding vistas while looking at the ground. As I looked up to the west you can see open ocean and the distant islands off the coast. Spinning my head around and I can look all the way down the edge of the island to the east. There are 2 large bays on either side, behind me, giving you a huge range view of sparkling blue waters, shimmering in the morning light. As I make my way around the fence line. I do come to pass 2 couples doing what looked like their morning ritual lap. On the back side the trial dips a little dropping into some woods and I wonder if it actually does go around. But the curious side of me keeps going assuming it must and I must see where it goes. Here I find a few pademelons but still no rabbits. (Pademelons don’t dig borrows) Coming out of the woods I find I’m just below the ski lift shed and the path back down. I stopped for a few minutes to capture this great view of the beach line and the city cemetery. After trekking back down the steep hillside I was hungry for some breaky. Knowing that there must have been a bakery some where I drive around the little town and find not only a great place for a sit down breakfast, Moby Dick’s. But that Stanley is very cool town. The ornately detailed Victorian style homes are all dolled up and fresh paint, lawns perfectly manicured, flowers lining the edges. This is a town that takes care of itself and it shows. While enjoying my bacon and eggs under an awning on the sidewalk I chat with the people from Sydney that come down every year to this secret hide away. It’s quickly becomes my favourite little town in Tasmania too. Maybe it was just a quiet Monday morning but this place had charm. I was told there are lots of B & B’s to stay at too. I think a future visit in in order. After my brush with the law is forgotten, of course.

Once finished chatting I drove out of Stanley, Tasmania on my way to Rocky Cape National Park, just 20km (12.5 m) east. Another wonderful peninsula into the Bass Strait, but there was no commercialization here. Just a lighthouse, boat ramp, green covered hillsides and an 8,000 year old Aboriginal cave! It is considered a sacred site so I only took this picture of the cave, which was located about 100’ above the ocean. After investigated it and the boat ramp area I parked at the hiking trail head spot and walked up the closest hillside. The trail itself was hidden in the tough weather beaten shrubs. It could only be viewed from looking at it straight on line. The footsteps had ground down a path into the exposed rocks, keeping the trail obscured from any other angle. I slowly climbed the long switch back path up and around one dome then past several others, thinking each one was the peak this trail led too. I settle for a rocky outcrop after realizing why they called this the “Postman’s Pass”. It never does reach the peaks. It just keeps meandering past them. The views from here along the coast line are as magnificent as they have been in every spot I have stopped. The words to describe the many kilometres of coastal beauty have all been used up. There are only pictures.

The drive up into the central mountain region and Cradle Mountain National Park takes a couple hours All the way those grey clouds keep getting thicker and heavier. The rain actually starts sporadically about 10km before I reach the main information centre. I was able to easily locate new my home away from home or the glorified tool shed as I’ve come to call it. Cabin #A2 is what the campground called it. Cabin or Tool Shed what do think? The shed is a 8’x8’ plywood box with a tin roof and 2 small triangular Plexiglas windows in the apex of the roof, front and back to let as much light in as possible and still keeping ones privacy. Inside there are 3 bunks, one on either side with the 3rd across the back a little higher hanging over the other two? I took all 3 foam mattresses and place them on one bed. After 8 nights in the car it’s going to be very nice to sleep fully reclined and on something a little softer. I unpack most of my gear and spread it out on the empty bunks. The rain is falling quite steadily, though not very hard. I check out the park services and made myself a massage appointment for New Years Eve. I also discover that there will be a live band in the bar at the main lodge to ring in 2009 with. By now I’m ready to rejoin society and hang out with someone beside the pademelons and gum trees. It’s late afternoon now and once I wandered around the park facilities it was time to do some laundry, clean up myself and the car. The evening was spent in a large camper’s kitchen building, socializing with the other campers, having my glass of vodka and staying out of the rain. The building itself has 2 kitchen areas with stove top, grill, microwaves and electric tea pot. In the centre of the room is a huge stone double fireplace. Wood is provided and a warm crackling fire is burning brightly on both sides. Helping keep all of us toasty and drying out various articles of clothing. There is 6 or 7 picnic tables spread around and even a lounge area with big leather couches. The first night in the shed is all I dreamed it could be. Dry, out of the wind, not to mention out of the car and VERY cold. I forgot to tell you the tool shed is void of electricity or heat. I used some lovely Asian style tea lanterns Michael gave me for lighting and every blanket I had, plus long johns, a t-shirt, a sweater, socks, a hat, gloves and hand warmers to keep me comfortable in the 3 C degree (40F) morning temperatures. As I drifted off to sleep the rain came down with a vengeance. The tin roof rattling with every rain drop, the wind whipping the trees. Which left me wondering if a branch was going to come crashing down to wake me in the night. In the cold morning air I quickly run outside to answer nature’s call and jump right back into bed. Sleeping in a little sounded like a GREAT idea. When I do rise about 8am I find not much has changed outside. It’s still windy, cold and wet. Just like New Years in Oregon should be! Except this year, I had heard that Oregon got 2’ of snow making me glad I was in Tassie. After breaky and checking my trail reference guides. I decide to take the shuttle bus up to Dove Lake and do the hike around it and then go from there. The lake is nestled in to a small valley and is about 2km long and maybe a ½ km wide. There’s a nicely maintained trail near the water’s edge all around it. At times Mother Nature does cooperate and the rain stops for 15 to 20 minutes. The deeply forested hillside surrounding the lake is lush and full of shades of green. In the distance you can see many waterfalls fully engorged with last night downpours. All that water rushing down the slopes into the lake. Fog gently covers the peaks and every once in a while 1 of the 2 mountain tops making up Cradle Mountain (sort of looks like saddle mountain doesn’t it) shows its beautiful face by peaking out between the clouds. Along the far end of the elliptically shaped lake the sparsely populated trees and shrubs become a full on rain forest. Trees and densely packed, with giant leaves shielding me from the raindrops and protecting my from the wind. I’m fairly soaked by this point so any protection is a good thing. The wooden board walk trail is elevated and that is also a good thing as most of the streams have expanded far beyond their normal banks and the forest floor is more of a single all encompassing waterfall with the torrents of water taking no prisoners on its long journey to the sea and off these mountains. I rounded the back side and started my way back to the trail head I the clouds parted and the sun came out as I left the dense rain forest area. Some dry weather for walking was exactly what this trek needed. Rising up over one of the ridges I was able to find a dry spot on a wooden bench. There are a few other people around on this trial but I have this sunny spot all to myself. The bench faces back towards the big waterfalls, giving a awesome view off several. You can hear thousands of little water falls in the forest beyond me, you can hear the winds sweeping over the hillside, down into the valleys, rustling the treetops. Small clouds passing in front of the sun cast a shadow over the foliage causing the colors to change from a dark ominous green to a bright, alive, vivid green and back again. For a few minutes I lose myself there. Trying to use all of my senses to absorb as much of the things happening around me as possible. All of a sudden something grabs at my hand and the granola fruit bar I’m holding, startling me with a jump. It’s a large raven with yellow beady eyes. He has literally just tried to steal the food from me. This is one brave, aggressive bird. I had to shoo him away and then again 30 seconds later. He kept coming back until I had long finished the food and I finally found a few small pebbles to throw at him. See what feeding the animals can do. But they’re so darn cute sometimes I just can’t help myself.

I continued on the trail and get back to the starting point fairly dry and feeling good. Eager enough to keep going. So I head along the boardwalk back to the visitor centre. An 8km hike broken into 3 sections or a 15 minute shuttle bus trip. For the most part this area is beautiful but slightly boring. You walk up and down around the corners past more trees and grasses. Occasionally crossing Dove River that is the outfall to the lake, paralleling the roadway about 100m (300’) to one side. Before reaching Ronny Creek parking area I connect with a section of the Overland Track which is a 80+ km trail from these mountains south all the way to South Cape Bay and the Cockle Creek campground (see Tasmania part II) This particular section is an open field. The boardwalk managed to keep you up out of the marshes but was in need of some repair in spots. As I walk along I notice something I had heard about many time but not seen, Wombat Poo! A Wombat is a good size animal, kind of like a black bear cub with a slightly less aggressive (only slightly) personality. These creatures are vegetarians and eat mostly grasses and leaves. What is most unique about them and the part so many people have shared with me is that their poo is square. Yep I said square! Now I have spared you the picture but take my word for it these brown little grainy turds look like large dice that have been passed and of course plopped down right in the middle of the trail. It’s EVERYWHERE! Every 3rd step I have to make sure I know exactly where I’m placing my foot. The little piles are in various stages of decay. It is on the walkway, in the grasses, floating in the creek beds the snaked between the mounds of grass. Really there’s a lot of poo for over 2 full km. Making me wonder how many wombats frequent what must be some really yummy grass. There was one more thing I noticed that kind of amazed me. There was no smell, at least not what one would imagine you should have standing in a massive field filled with crap. But nothing I could really notice? Maybe it was the wind and rain keeping down the smell. Whatever it was I was thankful and did my best to get finished the wombat poo trail as fast as possible. At 2nd of the 3 connection point with the shuttle bus I decided to take the more leisurely route home and planted my butt on the bus for the final 2.5 km. I spent the evening much like the one before in the mess hall enjoy a warm fire, vodka and the company of strangers. Some people were new and some, I had met the evening before. The night was also spent much the same way snuggled up in my layers of cotton. Listing to the wind and rain, fairly confident I wouldn’t get crushed by a tree limb. It hadn’t happened on the first night so it was harder to believe it would happen tonight.

Wednesday morning, New Year’s Eve day, I awoke to more of the same thing, single digit temperatures, biting wind and rain. Today’s adventures will take me to one of the peaks above Dove lake and crappy weather isn’t going to stop me from getting in one more decent hike on the final days of my trip. I do have a 90 minute massage booked for 5pm, dinner in the bar, and a live band planned for the evening giving me something to look forward to at my journey’s end. I start out back at Ronny Creek trail head and Wombat Poo Trail. I have to back track on about 1km of trail I did yesterday to get to the turn on to the Overland Track and up to Marion’s lookout. Along the way you pass another mountain lake, Crater Lake. Much smaller then the famed National Park of Oregon I love so much. But beautiful in its own right. The trail takes you right up the river that overflows out of it. The 2nd day of rain has continued to push the water through the forest at high peak flows making every wet step worth it. Today weather is a little different, instead of fairly constant rain like yesterday it was heavy down pours for a few minutes then nice sun shine. So as I continue to climb past Crater Lake the vegetation gets more like mountain scrub not giving you much protection from the elements along with beautiful vista when the sun does come out. I make my way to the final plateau with my destination insight. I chat with a nice lady making her way down, but waiting up for her husband to catch up. We can see the clouds coming off the hills. Dark, ominous clouds, clouds you can see pack a wallop and there’s nowhere to hide. The last .5km, 120m (390') climb isn’t going to be of the sunny pretty nature I'd prefer, it turns out to be a head down, watch your feet closely and a highly vertical one instead.
The lookout's view point tops out at about 1200m, (3940') which doesn’t sound like much but this tiny island peaks out at 1545m (5070')and is exposed to the Mother Nature’s wrath, surrounded by hundreds or thousands of miles of ocean. Reaching the top the rain that had turned to sleet, pelting me, then turned to snow, whipping past me, with winds that cause you to want to hold on to something. I find a magnificent spot, a little gully dip at the edge looking over Dove Lake. This spot is flat with a back wall about a meter high to lean up against keeping the wind and snow at my back whipping right over my head. Eventually the skies do clear a little and more people show up. I have had my 30 minutes rest at the perfect spot and now it's time for someone else to use it. Making my way back down is always a quicker trip but I manage to catch a great shot of Crater and Wilkes Lake. (There's also a Hanson Lake and about 4 more nestled in the tiny valley's created by the peaks above Dove Lake.) Back at camp I take a quick shower not because I’m late for my massage but because the water is barely luke warm and the shower building is made of stone with big open doorways allowing the cold wind practically into the shower stall with you. I make it to the spa, where I’m givin the 3 second tour (it’s that small) and a robe. I sit in the steam room and warm myself thoroughly. The massage is wonderful and does exactly what I needed after all my time outside and on the trails.

Dinner on New Years Eve was spent in the lodge bar off to one side where I could watch the whole dining room and overlook the bar area. I treated myself to a big juicy steak. During dinner I'm able to make out who the locals are. They tend to be having much more fun because they’re so isolated and really get to know each other and it is the last day of 2008. The band I had heard so much about turned out to be a guy with a guitar and a harmonica and he was good. His repartee was lots of old classics to get the crowd singing and dancing. I met several great people and party the night away welcoming in 2009.

Thursday morning, January 1 2009 was a new day, a new year and new adventures waited for me. I still had 1 full day left before heading back to Melbourne and wanted to start the year off right, with more national parks. I only have to make it to Devonport a mere 100km away today. I leave Cradle Mountain and head for Mole Creek Karst National Park and another cave system. There are actually several in this area to visit. Mole Creek being the most popular and where the information centre is located. Here the guide doesn’t mention the cave spiders at all. I do ask about them and he prefers to not mention it but they are there too. This place is just as beautiful as Hastings Cave (see Tasmania part II) but they have a much more spectacular showing of glow worms. Near the end of our journey the group came to a spot where the guide shut off all of the lights. If you’ve never been in a cave and had this done it’s an eye opening experience, trust me. You absolutely cannot see you hand in front of your face even if you were touching your nose. Once your eyes fully expanded to the light that was in this area you could see hundreds of little bright white spots on the ceiling and walls. Waiting further allows you to see the lights reflecting in the pool of water near us. I tried to get a picture but it just didn’t come out very well. It was really a cool thing to these guys. It’s really just the tip of their tails that glows and they do it to attract insect in the darkness. They’re only about an inch long and are another unique cave creature.

Still having most of the afternoon left I manage to squeeze in my 11th national park in 12 days, Narawntapu National Park just east of Devonport another beach park that prove to be one of the best. I arrive at the trail head which is only about 60m (200') from the beach and like so many places on this wonderful journey there’s no one around. Coming out of the mountains meant the rain had stopped and the sun was shining brightly again. A solemn, secluded walk on the beach to clear my head and think of all the fun I have had. The beach was long and straight stretching for maybe 5 km in each direction, with firm warm sand to walk in, a gentle ocean breeze, lapping 1’ waves and endless serenity. My hotel awaits me for the final nights rest but I linger here most, of all the places, not wanting to return fully to the hard brash surfaces of our modern world.


After checking in to the Comfort Inn I find some dinner and return to the comfort of those hard brash surfaces and a warm and soft bed. A real bed with sheets and pillows and blankets. A world of HOT showers and mindless TV. Even here I lose track of the time and drift off into sleep with my CPAP purring along next to me. Friday morning I’m up and on my way at 7am . Boarding on the Spirit of Tassie back to the main land starts at 7:30. The long ride home on Tasmania’s finest auto ferry awaits me. This is just like the trip down but less exciting because I know what to expect this time. I won’t bore you or myself with the details again. One thing I didn’t expect was the feeling of seeing Melbourne and the anticipation I’d feel at returning to the new city that has become familiar to me. It’s the first time I heard myself refer to it as home. To this day I’m still trying to understand what the bigger meaning of that single thought is and what it means to my life. You’ll have to keep reading my blogs to find out, as I do.

Tasmania Part III

Since I left you I have travelled farther north into the central mountain region of the Southwest National Park. Once again passing through Hobart and getting more supplies. As I head northwest out of town along the Derwent River I passed hundreds of wild black swans feeding in the marshes. There were more of these beautiful creatures than I had ever seen in one place and I just had to stop and snap a photo. I spent the night of December 26th at the Edgar Dam and Campground in the middle of a vast wilderness by the edge of 2 very large man made lakes. One named Lake Pedder and the other Lake Gordon. It was a wonder to me why the government would construct two massive dams and flood many hectares of wilderness in the middle of a World Heritage Area. As I made my dinner by campfire some of the locals came over to visit. This time it was a father and son out for a little fishing adventure, away from their wives and children after Christmas. While we proceed to get pretty pissed (drunk) they told me all about the area and the history of how the lakes came about. Unfortunately, because I was pissed, I only remember bits and pieces of the story. But basically, Tasmania was in short supply of fresh water and cheap energy so these hydroelectric dams were built to help solve the dilemma. There was much protesting by the local (and not so local) environmentalist as one can imagine. In the end the government did what it needed to do and the land was clear cut, the concrete was poured and today there are the 2 largest lakes smack in the middle of nowhere. There are good and bad points to such things happening. Being in the engineering field I understand the cons but the pros keep me employed and all I can do is hope that the necessary steps where made to protect what they could. A “pro” for me was I had a great place to camp beside a large lake. That particular night the sky was completely clear and all those stars I saw back at the Tasman National Park (Tasmania Part 1) where out in full force.

On the morning of December 27th I drove the 80 km (50 m) to the end of the road where the Gordon dam was and not much else. Along the way I drove through the town of Strathgordon. This place was straight out of a freaky Alfred Hitchcock movie. There where about 30 brick single story buildings and a visitor centre. All neatly fenced, lawns nicely manicured, trees and shrubs perfectly landscaped looking like they were built in the last 15 years. The strange part was there wasn’t a single car anywhere. Not one car parked or moving on the roadways. The visitor centre was closed and the entire town was ghostly quiet. I followed the signs to the general store. It was housed in a building that more resembled a school or town office then the old wooden charming structures I had seen in so many other towns. Even here there were no cars at all and this place also was closed. Not boarded up like everyone had moved on, but just closed. Sort of like aliens had snatched all the people in a millisecond, as they went about their daily routines. I sat in the car for a few minutes and just looked around hoping to see some shred of living human life when all of a sudden out from behind one of the buildings walks a man and a woman in their mid 40s with a golden retriever. As the crossed the grass the dog just padded along at their side. They edge closer to the road and put a leash on Fido before crossing the road. After reaching the other side they then took Fido off his leash and let him continue to walk by their side. This seemed VERY strange to me. Besides them and myself nothing else was around. What did they think was going to happen to such a mild mannered dog as they crossed the road? It wasn’t going to be hit by a speeding motorist, nor was it likely to run off. I waited for them to be well beyond the roadway and thought it was time that I start moving on before the aliens came back and snatched me too.

Another 70 km (44 m) and just before I reach the main roadway there’s another National Park to visit. This time it was Mt Fields National Park and the goal was to see Horseshoe and Russell Falls. For those that don’t know my mother’s maiden name is Russell and I just had to take a look. As I start my short hike to the falls I absent mindedly grabbed a piece of grass hoping to pull the kernels off the blade. I was quite shocked when I felt a sharp sting on the tip of my right index finger and looked down to see blood dripping from my hand. I returned to the visitor’s centre and showed a ranger my finger. I then went to the bathroom and washed my hand before applying the much needed bandage. I was informed that the vegetation in Tasmania bites back and what I had touched was known as Cutting Grass. What an appropriate name and lesson well learned. No more touching of the plants! I then returned to my trek to see my family namesake waterfall. This national park was in an old growth forest with towering gum and eucalyptus trees. Some of these trees were 10m (30’) in diameter at the base and stretched several hundred feet into the air. No matter where you are in the world old growth trees take your breath away every time. These massive monoliths of Mother Nature (say that 3 times fast) take hundreds and sometimes thousands of years to reach their present day heights. These trees where here long before the royals of the United Kingdome sent convicts to this far away land and I hope they are still standing for many generations to come. Old growth trees are a sight to be hold and our children’s, children’s children should be able to see them just as I have on this day. (The fern tree on the left has a canopy of about 12’ across). After a comparatively short hike of maybe 20 minutes I reach the base of Russell Falls. I think mom and grandma will agree that the beauty of this place is worthy of our namesake. The top picture is of the upper falls the bottom one is the lower falls

From Mt Fields I drive on into the Franklin Gordon Wild Rivers National Park which is the middle of 3 connecting parks and to Lake Sincliar. It is at this point in my trip when I begin to notice that each day the blue skies have slowly given way to more and more clouds. Those clouds, as they often do, bring some drizzle and rain. In turn making all the shades of green even more vibrant and all the streams more full of life giving waters. Once reaching Lake Sinclair I set out on a short 90 minute hike in search of what I’m told will be a good platypus viewing area. As I walk along I pass many little streams bulging from the rains and slowly making their way into the lake. The forest is very much like that of the Pacific Northwest. Trees and Rocks are covered with moss. Ferns grow in abundance and the vibrant shades of green I just mentioned are in the full glory with a hundred different hues. I spent 17 years in Oregon and viewed many many waterfalls, each one unique and breathe taking. No matter how many I see each one is worth stopping and taking a photo of. Once again like the penguins before I never get a glimpse of a Platypus but this time I do get to see a snake. It’s about 2 metres (6’) long and very shiny black. Upon speaking with a park ranger I find out Tasmania does have poisonous snakes and that was the most deadly kind. Thank god it was more afraid of me than I was if it and had slithered off into the forest away from me.

After this hike my hope was to find a campground somewhere in the middle of the 100km (62 m) before reaching the next town. But somehow I missed the signs and managed to get all the way to Lake Burbury to spend the night. This camping area wasn’t really much of a camping area at all. But more like a glorified boat ramp. Where the bogans had set up a summer residence. It was about 7pm when I arrived and I made my dinner by camp stove, listening to the songs of boganville being cranked out at decibels beyond what the artist ever dreamed of and sipping my vodka. As the sun passed below the hills and the chilly night air set in I was invited to join my more mainstream neighbours, by the campfire. These people were a young Tasmanian couple and her Canadian parents out for a week long camping/fishing trip. About 1 hour after dark the rains returned and we all headed off to bed. I jumped in the passenger’s seat, with my pillows and blankets all around me. Up until this point I had only been using my CPAP machine for 3 or 4 hours a night. Not wanting to kill the battery in my rental car, but wanting to get a few hours of decent sleep. I guess several nights in a row of this made more tired than I realized. With the rain now coming down in buckets I drifted off to sleep very quickly and when I awoke in the morning I had finally done what I had feared. I knew this day would come but it still wasn’t pleasant. A dead battery on a very rainy and cold morning. It was about 6am and none of my fellow campers had yet to leave the comfort of their cosy beds so I sat and waited. Some one must have jumper cables. I’ll just have to be patient. There’s not really anything else I could do, so I snacked on some fruit and started to read my book. About 7:15 the nice people next to me got up to let the dog out and were kind enough to help me out. In no time at all I was back on the road and everything was in order. Since it was about 8 C (46 F), foggy and still raining I decided to forgo the hiking for one day, find a warm place for breakfast and maybe catch a movie some where. The next town on the map was Queenstown. It was a cute little town with some very charming structures, a general store ,a post office, and even a couple stop lights. However, at 8am on a Sunday morning nothing was open. After driving in circles for a little while touring the town I pulled over near a town employee cleaning up the sidewalks. I wanted to shut the car off and make sure it’d start again but in the presence of someone so just in case I’d have some help if I needed. I don’t have my AAA membership anymore. The rental did have emergency roadway assistance but there was a $100 charge for calling them and then assorted fees to fix the problem. You all know what a cheap bitch I am! So that just wouldn’t do. Luckily for me the car turned right over and that helped put my mind at ease. I just wouldn’t use my CPAP machine for the remaining 4 nights of my trip. Which wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Now, I have learned that I can live without it for a few days. I don’t sleep as well but I can sleep and even dream a little. After this I decided to push on to the town of Strahan another 40 km (25 m) down a narrow and winding road. But at least it wasn’t a dead end.

I had heard a lot about Strahan. It is the biggest city on the west coast of Tasmania and is a starting point for many tourist tours of the Macquarie Harbour, Gordon River and the wilderness that surrounds it. I pulled into town and got my first real taste of Christmas, Tassie style. The local hotel (the only hotel) had inflatable Santa on the 1st story (it’d be the 2nd story for Americans) and even a decorated tree along the water’s edge. I found the local bakery and got a bacon, egg and cheese pie and a hot chocolate to warm me up for breaky. I then inquired at one of the tourist venues about what Strahan had to offer. There was no cinema and the closest one was about 400 km (250 m) back in Hobart. There goes that idea out the window. Strahan did offer boat tours of the harbour and up the Gordon river. But it was a 6 hour trip and I just missed the morning sailing. The afternoon sailing was complete with dinner and finished about 9 pm. I wasn’t interested in waiting around all day for what I envisioned as “The Spirit of Portland” tour. The rain had let up and I then proceeded to take a walk of the big city. I strolled the 2 block to one end of town and found a seaplane and a helicopter tour business. But since the clouds were forecasted to stick around all day the tours weren’t running. Idea #2 dead and gone. I found a place to sit and think about what else could I do on such a wet day and then it dawned on me. When given lemons make lemonade! Lots of water always makes waterfalls even more beautiful. Strahan’s only city park happened to have a 45 minute hike to Hogarth Falls. The area was once the homestead of the town’s settlers and when the family line passed away in the early 1900s the last remaining Hogarth donated the land to the city as a park. What a gem to leave as your family legacy.

Being barely 10am when I finished this hike left me lots of time to find something else to do. I thought about going to the little town of Corrina (in honour of Corina) but I’m sorry honey, it was just too far out of the way and I had learned that the small towns of Tasmania have little to offer besides more wilderness. So I decided on a 10km (6 m) hike to Montezuma Falls which was only about 100 km away and on my desired route. Back in the car and back on the road I was. 100 km really doesn’t take that long to travel when you’re averaging 80 km an hour or more. The hike, like so many other waterfall hikes, I had done was great. You walk through dense forest of gum and eucalyptus trees stretching high into the sky. The fern trees are much lower maybe only 10’ to 15’ in the air. Providing a much need canopy that shields you from most of the rain. But instead of 1000’s of little raindrops you get 100’s of BIG raindrops and learn quickly to expect a lot more of them when the wind picks up. There is the dreaded cutting grass in abundance and many types of moss covering all the surfaces it can. Here too were the boardwalks I have mentioned before making my trek much easier and much less muddy. Once I reached the falls I was surprised to find it to be so big. Double checking my guide book I learned it was the tallest in Tassie reaching 100m (328’) into the air. It’s hard to be moved when everyday you see Mother Nature’s finest work but this was another thrilling venue and I took many pictures from various angles. This hike came complete with a suspension bridge too! You know me I have to climb that rock, walk to the edge, and cross every bridge just to say I’ve done it. I reached the end and marvelled at the vista. The trail continued on but I wasn’t sure where. It wasn’t the trail I had come in on and the book didn’t speak of a loop. Part of me wanted to follow it and part of me didn’t want to get lost in the wilderness with no one really knowing where I was. A search party would be weeks away and then I’d have a lot of explaining to do to my mother. It’s the latter part that really made me turn around. On the way back over the bridge I got a bit of vertigo. Something I rarely experience and was very strange to me. I actually had to stop, hold on and wait for the bridge to stop moving before I could go any farther. I thought to myself “Boy, wouldn’t Doug get a chuckle out of this!” So go ahead and tell him Ed. The rest of the hike out of the bush was very beautiful and typical to the precvious hikss I had done.

Upon reaching the car, I had to find a place to camp for the night. Unfortunately, this meant another 150km (94m) of driving, which I was beginning to become very bored and tiresome of. It was after 3pm and my goal was the Montagu Recreation Reserve in the Northwest corner of the island. The long days and long hikes were getting to me and the Red Bull I was using to keep my energy levels up wasn’t working as well as it had. So I put the pedal down and was determined to make it to the campground as fast as possible. Now up to this point I hadn’t seen a cop ANY where in Tasmania not even in Hobart, which left me wondering if they even had them here. Surely they must, right? But a week travelling left my guard down and I cruised like the preverbeal bat out of hell! On one long straight away I learned the Tassie does indeed have law enforcement. They drive dark sedans with tinted windows and can hit you with the laser gun when they coming at you. Something I had learned in my 20+ years of driving in the states but chose to forget on this grey afternoon. As soon as the lights started to flash I knew they had got me, mostly because I was the only one on the road, besides them. My next thought was where’s my stash. I don’t mind paying a ticket but jail in a foreign country is something I’d rather avoid. Luckily, I had been good and everything was packed away. I pulled over even before I passed the cop. They came in behind me and a young female officer got out. I was told I was clocked at doing 127 kph in a 100kph zone and asked to provide my driver’s licence. When she saw it was from Oregon she immediately went back to her car without saying a word. The next thing I see is a male police officer getting out of the passenger side and thought CRAP I’m going to jail! The senior guy is coming and I won't be able to pull the tourist wool over his eyes. He reached my window and asked why I didn’t have an international driver permit. This kind of hit me from no where because I have driven here on all my trips and have been told by many people, including the car rental companies, that I didn’t need one. The officer informed me that in fact I do need one and I was going to get a ticket for failure to have a proper licence, which was a cheaper ticket than speeding would have been and wouldn’t require me to go to court. Ok, I thought that's better I guess. I had already resigned myself to having to pay a fine and anything a little cheaper must be a good thing. He then went back to his car for what I assumed was his ticket book. When he returned he handed me a warning notice and told me I could burn it in the campfire tonight if I wanted. His reasoning was I was obviously a tourist ( I failed to tell him I live in Melbourne and he just assumed it so why argue with a cop!) and it was just too much paper work to fill out on a Sunday afternoon. I was informed that if I got pulled over again in the next 2 years in Tassie I would most likely go to jail and pay a much heavier fine. At no point did he actually tell me to slow down which I thought was pretty much a no brainer. He then proceeded to give me 20 minutes of tourist information. Telling me which campgrounds were the best, which route I should take to avoid the narrow winding roads and how wonderful Tassie is. I put on my best face, thanked him profusely and went on my way with a HUGE sigh of relief! I’d pulled it off all because the car was a mess with camping gear and I hadn’t changed my driver’s licence. Once I was moving again I set the cruise control to 103 kph. (I had to push the limits a little. It’s just who I am, right mom!)

I finally made it to the coastal recreational reserve about 7pm after a few quick lawful stops. It didn’t take long to realize I wasn’t on OZ anymore and had landed right in the middle of Kansas and bogan central! It was late and there weren’t any other campgrounds around so I was stuck in redneckville for the night. All of the camping spots had 2 sometimes 3 caravans (RV) with a tent or 2 next to them and the entire space were wrapped in 2m high black sheathing. For what I could only guess was to provide a wind breaker. The bright side is this made it so I didn’t have to look at all the plumber cracks and sagging knee boobs. What it didn’t do was keep the little redneck children caged in like I had hoped. Since most of these people spend their summers here (and maybe the winters too) the children were allowed to roam free and bother anyone they choose all without a familiar adult figure to teach them some manners. I was quickly spotted by one little boy about 10 or 12 riding his bike around. He asked a million questions and I was just not in the mood. I was tired hungry and cranky and those that know me well know that is not the time for idol chit chat. After his third visit (I was trying to bite my tongue honest I was) I asked him didn’t he have a little brother or sister he could bother instead of me! I guess my tone was exactly where it should have been because he left and never came back.

This may not be the best place to end to part III with me sounding like a mean old queen that thinks children are better eaten for lunch then talked too, but those that know me also know I’m am just like my father and my bark is much worse than my bite. The 4th and final entry for my trip to Tassie is entirely of my 3 nights at Cradle Mountain the most famous of all National Parks in Tasmania. I have spent more than 6 hours making parts 2 and 3 so I kind of need a break from blog reporting for a few days and the rest of my week is pretty full. Not to mention 3 weeks of gay pride start this weekend and I’ve got some partying to do. I’ll try and finish this journey next week. Until next week my faithful followers....

Tasmania Part II

December 23rd I awoke to the not so peaceful sounds of all those birds chirping away at 6am. No Worries though, a little adjustment of the covers back over my head and I can sleep in a little longer.


Today’s adventures will take me from one beautiful bay to another. I leave the Tasman National Park in search of scenic places farther north. The first stop along the way happens to be Marion’s Bay. In honour of my step mother, Marian, I stop to stretch my legs a little and capture a beautiful shot of the coastline. It is here that I decide this is a good place to get a little saxophone practice in. The island behind me in the distance is Maria Island National Park. A place I hoped to visit. But when I inquired about the ferry ride at the information centre in Triabunna. I was informed the ferry ran only once a day and only 5 days a week and Tuesdays aren’t one of those days. It worked out for the best since you’re not allowed to bring cars to the island and in my usual fashion I had too many other things planned to add in this side trip to my adventures. I’ll have to do this National Park on my next trip to Tassie. (Anyone want to come along!) Back on the road I pass other idyllic places like Little Swanport and the Rocky Hills Convict Station. Which I found humorous since URS has an office in Rocky Hill Connecticut and work can some times be like a prison.

My trek north takes me past 9 Mile Beach with my sights set on Coles Bay in the Freycient National Park. This park is quite different than the last. Both are coastal places with forested slopes and rocky cliffs. But Freycinet is much more populated by the upper crust of Tasmanian society. This is where many people have summer homes along the 25km dead end road that leads into the park. There are many high end shops and galleries with massive homes resting on the hillsides. All with large windows to bring in the light and allow for magnificent vistas of the Great Oyster Bay. I find my next home away from home along Richardson Beach, space #39. (pictured above) The camping places here are a series of spots along the bay all just above the beach. Each with a view facing west, tucked into the shrubs and grasses of the dunes. Once I have claimed my spot and paid my fees for the night. I quickly head off for another hike. This time I only had to walk up and over one hill to Wineglass Bay (pictured right) . I took this photo at the top of the hill before making my way down to the warm sandy beach. Now I was on the ocean side of the peninsula and here the waves are a little bigger and the wind a bit stronger. These enhancements allowed me to immerse myself fully into the natural beauty surrounding me. I spent several hours on the beach, wandering from one end to the other. Lying on the beach for a while with my backpack as a pillow watching the waves break before me. I read my book and just enjoyed the quietness of a fairly secluded beach. The afternoon continued to pass and you are able to lose all track of time. As I see the sun lowering behind the hills I start to make my way back to my waters edge campsite for more relaxation and a little dinner. Since this area is somewhat populated with nice homes, restaurants and shops you were not allowed to build campfires and had to use my camp stove to make a green curry soup for dinner. Thanks to Sheila North and her Coleman camp stove this is a very easy thing to do. After dinner I do more of what I spent the afternoon doing. Enjoy the spectacular view and reading my book. But this time I added a couple glasses of vodka to wind down the evening. Another early to rise day where I was able to capture this shot of the main resort buildings in the morning light and clouds. Before moving on for Christmas Eve’s adventures.

Today’s travels take me many miles from where I started and the entire day to get there. I was getting low on supplies and needed to find a post office to mail some postcards. I needed some more cash and the most important thing of all, a shower, so I head for Hobart. Since it was Christmas Eve, I wanted to make sure I had everything I needed to continue in a manner I was quickly becoming accustom too. Which was basically great views, peaceful surroundings, simple meals and vodka. I was able to obtain all of these things I desired fairly easily, along with this shot of a pedestrian shopping area and the town center fountain. Hobart was much smaller and quieter than I expected. After 4 months of living with 3.5 million other humans in Melbourne I sort of expect Hobart to be a little bigger. I found myself pleasantly surprised that I was wrong, as the city only has a population of about 150,000.

While preparing for this trip I found a gay campground retreat on the web and wanted to check it out. Huon Bush Retreat is located south west of Hobart and on a mountain outside of Huonville and is a very nice place tucked away many kilometres along a dead end dirt road. I stopped and talked to the owner, Paul, and took a little tour of the place. It was only about 2pm and I was entering an area of Tassie that would require me to back track several hundred kilometres. So I decided to push on farther south and I would come back to this place later on my travels. The road then took me to Tahune Forest Airwalk. A tourist venue with a steel walkway about 40 metres (120’) in the air. Complete with a cantilevered section taking you bouncingly out over a river. I found myself more interested in the actual engineering of the structure than the woods that encased me. 20 years of doing transit and pedestrian related projects has left its mark on my persona and I just couldn’t help myself. Here you are about half way up the towering gum trees, closer to those ever chirping birds and you can even hear the wind rustling through to leaves in such a way that it makes you feel as if the wind is something tangible you can reach out and touch. It’s a hard thing to put into words.

A quick detour into Hartz Mountians National Park so I can check off one more on my list then it’s on to the final destination for the day, Southwest National Park and Cockle Creek Campground. I had been warned by Paul about the bogans (rednecks) that camp just outside the national park and hang out for the summer. So I passed the generators, dogs and screaming kids to find my own beach front spot along Recherche Bay. (Both shots taken from the same point with just a slight turn of the head.) This was another area where Sheila’s camp stove would come in handy. A pattern has started to develop by where every evening I’m sitting along the a bay sipping vodka and reading a book, writing in my journal or just watching mother nature's most magnificent TV station in complete serenity.

In the early morning light of Christmas Day I start out on the longest hike of my trip, 15.4 km (10+ miles) to South Cape Bay, aptly named since it’s the southern most point in Tasmania. However, this time I got lucky as the trail is very flat and about 5km is in a open field with grasses waist high, wild flowers in bloom and rolling hills all around me. The trail itself, like most in Tassie, is actually a boardwalk of sorts keeping you several inches above the ground which helps minimize the impacts humans do on the environment and a welcome change to climbing over rocks, tree roots and mud puddles. Every so often the trail would tuck into a small patch of forest that slightly rises above the plain. Taking you into the trees and giving you some shade. Again I was lucky as this day was slightly overcast and I was able to get by with just 2 layers of sunscreen and my hat. I did give thanks to Mother Nature for saving me. It would have been a much more difficult hike in the blazing light of full sun. Another day where I don’t see another soul for several hours. All the way out to the cliffs and the beach and no one in sight at all. Ed and Corina will understand it just doesn’t get any better than this when you are on a hike. After several hours of walking through one beautiful landscape, another completely different one emerges in front of me. As I draw closer I can begin to here the crashing of the waves, smell the sweet salt air, and hear the wind zipping along the barren cliffs and beach. Like so many times before on this trip I lingered on this beach all by myself. A lonely seagull approaches as I rest my weary bones on the sand. I’m snacking on some green grapes and in an unusual fashion the seagull is quietly, patiently waiting for a scrap of something yummy about 15’ from me. I toss him one of my grapes and watch him try and break it apart. He keeps throwing it on to the ground hoping it’ll become smaller and more able to eat. But all it does is roll away from him and he chases it down and throws it again. After about 5 very humorous (at least for me) minutes he gulps it down whole. Trying to be helpful I squish a second one in my fingers before tossing it to him. The seagull pokes at it but is no longer interested in this game. So on this day I learn a Seagull will eat 1 green grape but not 2! Moments later when he realizes I’m not the local grocery store, he flies off down the beach in search of something tastier to nibble on. Once again I have lost all track of time and when I’m good and ready I start to make my way back to the camp. But before I go I take just a few more pictures of the ocean and this natural wonder of the world.

Since I was able to get an early start and we have about 17 hours of day light I packed up the tent (set up to only hold my spot I didn’t actually sleep in it) and start my trek back north again. Along the way just before getting back to the tree top walk I stop at Hastings Caves and thermal springs. Your price of admission gets you a 1 hour tour of some beautiful caves and a free trip into the hot springs pool. ( I can hear Ed now HE HE HE hot springs!) But first let me tell you about the caves. This cave system is much like the ones of Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico and Mammoth Caves of Kentucky. Not like the volcanic lava tubes of Oregon. Acidic water has washed away the softer lime stone leaving stalactites, stalagmites, curtains (or ribbon formations) and straw tubes in its wake. All of which are colourful and sparkly taking thousands of years to form and only a single touch from a human finger to kill. We are reminded several times not to touch things. Our guide does allow us to touch one stalagmite early on the trip to allow the kid in all of us to get it out of our system. We’re also told of the very rare but very large Tasmanian cave spiders that inhabit all of the caves here on the island. They live on the cave crickets that live on organic matter that falls into the cave openings. These cave spiders are sort of like a Daddy long legs with long spindly legs and round bodies. I did mention that these are big. They grow to be about 18 cm (7”) in diameter and tend to hide in the crevices near the mouth of the cave. We are luck enough to see a baby one on our tour. This little guy is about as big as my fist and as you would expect some people in my tour group are squeamish about getting close to one, but not me. Our guide lends me her torch (flashlight) and allows me to take a good long look at our friend once everyone interested gets a peak and she goes into detail about the life of such a creature. Now I bet you all are hoping for a picture aren’t you! Those who aren’t are in luck. The spiders are very sensitive to light and the flash of the cameras are far beyond what they can handle so we weren’t allowed to take any. (The flashlight had a covering to dim it). The tour itself only takes you about 400 meters (1200’) into the cave system then back tracks you out. I have been in many caves in my years and. I found this one interesting for how similar it was to caves systems back in the states.

After the caves I make my way down to the thermal hot springs. The long hike of the morning, several days driving, and sleeping in a not so comfortable passenger seat has left my muscles sore and tired. I was looking forward to soaking in the mineral rich warm waters of a hot spring. Much to my disappointment, this location was a man made concrete pool about 27 C (80 F) not the 39 (102F) I was hoping for with lots of healthy mud to rub on your skin. I did my 15 minutes anyway and then spent 20 minutes in a wonderfully HOT HOT shower. Which is a big no no in Australia, remember, I now live on a desert continent and even here in Tasmania fresh water is a commodity to be conserved. But it just felt SO good and my muscles kept saying “please don’t go just yet”, plus it was only about 15c (60F) outside and I didn’t want to leave this warm place for the cold reality of a Tasmanian summer.
Once all dried, dressed and back in the car, I head for hill country and Huon Bush Retreat. The evening was spent playing cards and talking to a very nice local family of 7 around a barrel campfire. By this point I’m starting to actually want to talk to other people and this is a nice change from the solitude of the last several nights I have spent by the bays.

It is at this point, dear friends and family that I must leave you once more. Please continue to check in when you can. Part 3 of my Tasmanian adventures is almost finished and should be posted in a couple days.

Tasmania, part I

TASMANIA AUSTRALIA
Population 494,520 (March 2008)

68,401 square kilometres (26,410 square miles)
West Virginia is 24,200 sq. miles
Oregon is 98,400 and Connecticut is 5,550 sq. miles

It lies 240 kilometres (150 miles) south of the Australian mainland across the Bass Strait.

37% of the island state is designated either National Park or World Heritage Sites. This doesn’t include the many state forests, reserves and conservation areas connecting most of the larger parks.

Here’s a link to more detailed information if you’d like to find out more. I’d love to show some visitors around Tassie. There are lots more things I want to do there!
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tasmania

My the latest adventure down under begins on a warm sunny Saturday morning, the weekend before Christmas. Seas are calm and people are lined up to board the mammoth 10 deck red and white auto ferry, The Spirit of Tasmania I (there is a II that runs the night crossing) 7:30 am the car is all loaded with camping gear. I have my travel reference books. One on the 240 national parks in Australia, one of the best camping locations around the state, and of course a 4x4 road map with colour highlighted paths for the best off road areas. I have snacks, a jumper (a jacket) a deck of cards, some books, of course sunscreen and a hat. We are boarded and on our way out into Port Phillip Bay by shortly after 9am. The crew is very efficient at getting everyone on board and making them comfortable. I take a spin of the 3 levels open to the public. The main level, deck 7, has a buffet and sit down restaurant, a lounge area, a gift shop and tourist information centre, a small movie theatre (PG movies only), and a pokie room (video slots). Deck 9 is mostly just seating and long booths with a TV center featuring the full time Australian news station, a small bar, and a video game arcade. Deck 10 is the party deck with a couple bars and entertainment stage. They are several other decks of cabins you can rent if you’d like to take a nap on our 9+ hour voyage across the Bass Strait. I grab a bacon, egg and cheese pie for breaky and find a place to people watch. The general public here is just as scary as it is in America. All kinds wander about. Some dressed up to look their best, others in sleepwear dragging blankets and pillows like Linus from the Peanuts. There are older couples and younger ones, babies and toddlers, families headed some place for the holiday break. The ship feels comfortable there’s plenty of room to move around and seating is readily available on all decks. People have stretched out and their stuff is in all corners of the ship. A group of us watch Melbourne fade away as we drift further and further into the bay. It takes more than an hour to make it past the points. The shipping channel is narrow and takes a path closer to one coast line. Once past the breaks, the buoys get farther apart and the coastline itself eventually vanishes. That’s about all you see for the next 8 hours, besides your shipmates. We sail the day away arriving in Devonport Tasmania around 6pm and as of most things in life you hurry and then wait. I’m one of the last to get off loaded and then you have to go through customs. Tasmania is an island state and Australia has learned the hard way that non native species can do great harm. We have the usual no firearms, no fruit, no pesticides etc…1 hour after arriving in Tasmania I finally reach the open road. It’s a 5 minute drive into town and to my hotel for the night, The Comfort, Inn room number 15. One last night of modern comforts before I start 11 nights in the bush (the woods).

My first full day in Tasmania is spent driving from one end of the state to the other. Of course, I took the scenic route past the great lakes of central Tassie. Passing little towns that literally contain only 7 or 8 houses. No stop lights, stop signs, not even a general store. Some of these towns are many kilometres from another small town containing the same vast remoteness as the last place. All the houses in this desert like area have large water barrels connected up to the downspouts on the roof drains to catch any rain water and save it for many uses around the homestead. I have been told this is quite common in inland, rural parts of Australia. I passed fields of cows, goats and sheep. I got bored, as I often do, and found humour in honking my horn at the sheep, then watching them startle and run. Not surprisingly the goats we’re too smart for this trick. But, surprisingly the cows were smart too! Only the sheep ran from a passing American tourist getting his jollies by startling poor grazing animal. I passed fields of fruit trees, potatoes and another surprise, fields of Poppies. Yes, Dorothy said it best “Poppies, Poppies every where!” I learned that Tassie harvests them as a medical ingredient for morphine. Hmm very interesting! I also passed many dead Pademelons (small kangaroos unique to Tassie), and wombats. These are nocturnal creatures, as most are down under. This lead me to be glad it was the summer solstice and the longest days of the year. I’d be able to be off the roads before dusk and not contribute to this sad fact of life.
My final destination for the day was the Tasman National Park south east of Hobart (Tasmania’s capital) Mills Creek Campground space #46 to be more precise. From this spot I can view Fortescue Bay, the Tasman Sea and New Zealand beyond that. Once settled in I find my way to my first hike of the trip. There was a few hours of sunlight left and I’d been told that you could view some penguins at Canoe Bay about 3 km on the other side of the beach. I ran into a park ranger just coming back from the penguins. She let me know that I shouldn’t stare at them for long because it made them nervous and can impact egg incubation process that was going on right now. A chance to see nesting penguins excited me and off I went. About an hour into the 2 hour return trip hike, I got to the bay and couldn’t find the penguins. So I figured I made a mistake and kept going up this BIG hill. I check the map and took my bearings. This lead me to decide I must have missed the little guys so I go back down this BIG hill. Canoe Bay is where they’re supposed to be. I look and look around but never see them. Oh well, I better get back to camp. No Worries Mate! This was just a bonus hike not the one I came here to do anyway. That hike is pictured to the left. Later in my trip I ran into someone who had recently done the hike and I found out the penguins were just down the other side of the BIG hill at the next bay, beyond Canoe Bay. DAMN!
My first night out in the bush is good. I’m able to make a campfire and campfire food is always better! The forest around me is filled with little ALIVE creatures. The Pademelons and birds mostly. You can here the many strange bird calls from various perches all around me. There are large crows or Ravens with beady yellow eyes, The ever present Seagulls, and many smaller birds with amazingly load calls for such small creatures.

Monday December 22nd, I wake up early and hit the Cape Hauy trial by 8am. 10km of very up and down and up and down 200 meters (600’) at a time. Luckily the closer I get to the tip of the cape this vertical change lessons to about 100m (300’) but this was about the 5th of 8 hills I had to climb. Every step was worth the view! About 3.5 km into the hike you come out of the gum trees and there’s a spectacular view of the remaining peninsula. A series of high cliffs, facing south, and vegetation covering the dramatic sloping hill sides dropping into the blue waters below. Each rolling hill being like a small island barely connected until you reach the last one just before the final rock island formation called “The Lanterns”. You’re standing high on a top a 100m cliff with the Tasman Sea crashing far below you. The rock itself is formed into vertical columns, standing majestically, reaching for the sky and slowly crumbling into the ocean by the constant battering of waves. I haven’t seen a single soul on my trek out to this beautiful spot. No one on the planet is getting this view, at this moment in time. These spots in nature are beyond words. You stand in complete awe of Mother Nature’s beauty. I lingered here for more than an hour, on this little clearing a top of rocks with the only noises you can hear are the crashing waves below you and the gusty south winds coming all the way from Antarctica, whipping the trees back and forth. Promising to blow you off your feet if you stand to quickly. The horizon is so vast you can see the curvature of the earth with the many shades of blue water all about you. The only real piece of land besides the one you walked out is Cape Pillar. The south eastern most point of the tiny island off Tasmania's coast that makes up this portion of the park. Cape Pillar is a similar rocky outcropping that is even more battered by the cold biting winds out of the south pole. A spot where only the most daring of rock climbers scale a pillar of granite in a huge crevasse that has the unforgiving sea smashing rocks into sand hundreds of feet below them. I am told that some do the climb with no safety ropes at all! My hope was to reach this extreme point for a look. But alas it is a 2 day hike out to the point with many many more ups and downs over its 18km (each way) walk. After a long relaxed rest, complete with snacks, photos and my eyes glued to the many points of beauty around me. I must start the walk back. It is about 5 minutes into the 2+ hour walk I meet my first people of the day. PERFECT TIMING! I had that spot all to myself and now it was their turn. After making my way back to camp I ran into Port Author to check it out. It’s a little tourist town with expensive tours of the penal colony that brought convicts to this part of the world. Sorry folks but I skip this jewel of commercialism and opted for picking up some ice and post cards before heading home. Another great evening by the campfire. After the sun has completely set I take a few minutes and wander down by the boat ramp along the bay. The moon is rising very late in the night and I have a perfectly clear view of the stars in the southern skies. With no moon and no city lights for several kilometres, I could see more stars than I have in a long time. You can see the famed Southern Cross, shown proudly on the Australia flag. You can see the Milky Way. That band of starts that has awed me since childhood. You can also see Orion’s belt. Its familiar 3 stars line up in a row. The only constellation that I know of that you can see in the northern hemisphere and the southern hemisphere too. Of course it’s upside down and the Australians call it the saucepan. They view only half of it. Having the 3 lined up starts to be the bottom of what to me looks like a teacup formation. I lingered here too, for how long I have no idea. But my full cup of vodka was long gone by the time I wandered back to my camping spot and into slumber. A spectacular end to a spectacular day. A AWESOME hike, campfire food and stars galore. A GREAT way to start my trip to this most beautiful place.

Well friends, this is the ending of part one. Please stay tuned for future adventures in Tasmania…. I'm hoping to make another posting later this week or early next week. (These take about 3 hours to put together) Not much is going on in my life besides the same grind we all are doing in the first few weeks of a new year. Except it's summer here and warm. Don't worry I'll get mine in June when it finally warms up where you are and cools down here..... Until next time HAPPY NEW YEAR!