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.
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....
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 fallsFrom 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....
No comments:
Post a Comment