Paradise Cove

Yesterday some friends invited us to visit Paradise Cove with them.  We have lived back on the coast for a few years now and every so often we hear about this place.

Sadly Miss and Mrs TasTrekker were away but the boys and I jumped at the chance to visit this mythical destination.  A couple of hours before low tide, we headed east from the Penguin viewing platform at Lilico Beach.

The foreshore reserve varies in width so a GPS ensured we were steering clear of the surrounding unfenced private farmland.  The excitement started to build as we roudned the last hill and saw the double curve of Paradise Cove.  The first half is a rocky beach but the second half features a beautiful arc of sand seperated from the sea by an inter tidal lagoon and rock shelves.

This would be a great place to visit at high tide when the sea reaches the sandy arc.  However, steep cliffs either side of the cove prevent access without straying onto private property.

Sadly the small dunes of the cove are being devoured by sea spurge.  There are also problems with erosion where stock have wandered down steep banks to the foreshore.  On a good note though we noticed some shrivelled cape weed in the pastured sections of the coastal reserve.  Someone has done some hard work on that score.

On the way back, we marvelled at the columnar rock formations and wondered at the almost black sand of the next bay to the west of Paradise Cove.  To top off a ripper walk, a penguin at the viewing platform decided it would have an uncharacteristic stretch in the afternoon sun, much to our delight.  As if that wasn't enough, we rendezvoused with Mrs TasTrekker who was waiting at Don Heads with a delumptious hot dinner.

(Photos later)

Mt Roland

I love a family who is up for a challenge.  My wife and sons joined me for an assault on Mt Roland today.  The weather forecast was ordinary but we decided to have a go anyway.  Progress up the face track from Kings Road was slow, steady and dry until we reached the cliffs.

As we approached the top of the climb the rain set in and a nasty wind chased onto the plateau.  Just before the summit we stopped for shelter in a cave to have lunch in the dry.  At this point we decided to continue past the summit in the hope that cruising down the back of the mountain would be more sheltered.

Our decision was doubly rewarded.  As soon as we left the summit it became apparent the back track to Gowrie Park was much better maintained than the track up the front.  No more scratchy scrub.  Hooray.  Secondly our hunch about the wind was correct.  The back of the mountain was eerily still with mist preventing views more than a hundred metres or so.  The rain even stopped for long enough to get the camera out for the board walk section.

After descending past Reggies Falls and down the mossy valley of O'Neills Creek we connected on to the new track to Gowrie Park.  This new track adds as much as 3km on to the walk and made a tedious end as it gradually contoured its way below the face of Mt Vandyke.  Thankfully my mother-in-law was kind enough to respond to our request for a lift after our summit change of plans and we completed our circuit with the short drive back to our car.

Basil Steers Hut No. 3

From my old blog 4th October 2006...

Basil Steers' 1974 February Plains hut

Back in April I went for a trip to February Plains.  On that trip I found a classic, yet very run down, example of a trappers hut.  (8/11/08 - I now know this ruin was Basil Steers' No 2 hut after reading Simon Cubit's "High Country Heritage.")  As mentioned in that post, I have heard there are other huts on the plains but I didn't know how to find them.

In June I went back to the plains armed with information about how to find Basil Steers' most recent hut.  It was built in 1974 just before the craft of trapping skins in winter was outlawed in Tasmania.

On this trip I took my mountain bike to save some time on the approach.  The instructions I had were a little vague but sure enough I found the tell tale signs of chain sawed logs in the bush where a path had been cleared to take a horse drawn sled to the hut.  This was fine until I reached the open plains where there were no more sawn logs and no obvious sign of a track.

Photos I had seen of the hut showed it was in trees so I wandered around the edge of the plains in an anti-clockwise direction.  I should have gone clockwise because I was almost back to where I started when I caught a glimpse of the hut through the trees.

This hut is being very well looked after and has been completely closed in.  It is so luxurious that there is lino and carpet on the floor.  The bunks would sleep 8 walkers in comfort.  I'll certainly bring the family back for a trip another time.

On the way home, I stopped by Gads Falls beside Lake Parangana.  The top of the falls can be glimpsed from the road and are way up on the mountainside.  I looked forward to getting a closer look.

The marked trail leads through a narrow valley below the falls clad in dark rainforest.  After a short walk, I arrived at the first set of falls.  These were quite pretty but I knew I was still well below the falls you could see from the road so I kept climbing.

I don't think the 'official' track continues past the first set of falls but I was clearly following a well worn path that soon rewarded me with a second fall.

I still felt as if I was a long way below the top falls so I continued upward.  It appeared I was no longer following a well worn track.  The sides of the valley were now dominated by slippery banks of shale scree.  With a fair amount of difficulty, I made it to a 3rd set of falls.

Even worse scree made the next part of the climb extremely difficult and I still had not glimpsed the top falls since leaving the car.  Above the scree I reached a section of cliffs reaching into the valley from the south.  From a precarious vantage point on these cliffs, I could see a 4th and 5th set of falls where the valley kinks to the north a little.

To my great frustration, the shape of the valley was now preventing me from seing the ridgeline above.  The falls I could see from the road were still out of site!!!  From here, I had a choice between some serious rock climbing or a big descent to tackle the valley from an entirely different approach.  At this point, common sense overruled my 'waterfall bagging' ambitions and I carefuly made my way back down to the car.

As I drove along the road, I didn't dare glimpse back at the waterfall gracing the skyline.  I'm sure it would have been taunting me.  A closer look will have to wait for another day!

Mount Barrow and Barrow Falls

From my old blog 28th July 2006...

Last week, I drove to Mount Barrow while I was showing a corporate guest around a rainy and gloomy Tamar Valley.  The only walking that the weather and our equipment permitted was a quick lap of the nature trail at the picnic area immediately below the mountain.

We drove to the car park at the top of the road and observed the driving rain and howling gale from inside the car before wending our way back down through the dozen or so hairpin bends.  The picnic shelter and hang gliding launch ramp were just visible through the mist.

Previous visits to Mount Barrow have not been so bleak.  On several occasions, I have climbed the steps from the car park to the buildings and transmission towers perched on the summit ridge.  From here it is a short rock hop along the cliff tops to the summit.

The short ridgeline traverse is a great introduction to the decaying dolerite caps that adorn so many of Tasmania's highest peaks.  Ice and snow in winter add to the fun and care must be taken to avoid the north facing cliffs that plunge away close at hand.

Clear weather offers uninterrupted views in every direction.  Farmland and forestry operations dominate the middle distance with Launceston and the Tamar valley a little further away.  On the horizon, the long, dark line of the Great Western Tiers leads the eye away to the distant Black Bluff and Mount Roland.  Bass Strait is visible as are the numerous peaks of the northeast with the Ben Lomond massif brooding beyond the communications tower on South Barrow.

Below Mount Barrow are the Mount Barrow Falls.  When I visited 15 years ago, this sizeable fall had no track to it.  I accessed the falls via State Forest to the north as part of a mountain bike ride from Launceston.

I have since found the Mount Barrow Road runs through part of the Mount Barrow Falls State Reserve.  This is well downstream from the falls so I am not sure whether a good access route exists from this direction.  There’s room for more exploring another day!


As mentioned above, I have not managed to get any Barrow pics organised.  While I had hoped to use my own photos, a quick search on the Internet found a couple of photos that beat anything I have to offer hands down...
I now know the National Library of Australia have a good collection of historic photos available on-line.  Among these are photos of...  you guessed it...  Mount Barrow and Mount Barrow Falls.

Mount Barrow by Frank Hurley

Mount Barrow Falls by Stephen Spurling

Do the photographers' names ring a bell?  Hurley is best known for accompanying Sir Ernest Shackleton on his infamous expedition to Antarctica and the amazing Southern Ocean rescue that followed.  I am not so familiar with Spurling's work.  There is a Mount Spurling just west of the Mountains of Jupiter on Tasmania's Central Plateau.  I guess this was named after him?

Dove Lake Circuit

From my old blog, 17th June 2006...

It’s the tail end of June school holidays in Tassie and I have had the past couple of weeks off work.  The break has been dominated by all manner of family activities with barely a day to spare.

With so much to do in the two weeks, I knew opportunities to head bush would be limited.  Therefore, with not much happening on the first weekend, it was time to plan a family trip into the mountains.

The weather forecast for Sunday and Monday was terrific.  One cool, crisp, still, clear sunny day followed by another.  The Cradle Mountain area was chosen for our family foray and a 2 bedroom, 8 bunk cabin behind Waldheim Chalet was duly booked.

After a pit stop at Railton, we bypassed Sheffield and continuing cautiously through the icy hairpin bends of the Cethana Gorge.  Next stop was my in-law’s ‘shack’ at Moina.

The ‘shack’ sits on a 5 acre clearing beside Lake Gairdner, which is formed by the Wilmot Dam at the confluence of the Iris and Lea Rivers.  On this particular morning, the frost was very heavy and sheets of ice had formed around the lakes shore.

Back on the road, we had a quick stop at the Cradle Mountain Visitor Centre to pick up our key and then it was on to Dove Lake for our walk.

The walk starts by crossing the lake outlet where the Dove River is born.  The dramatic Glacier Rock is a worthwhile detour but care must be taken to keep children under a tight rein so they don’t get too close to the edge.

Along the eastern side of the lake, 7 year old son and 5 year old daughter jostled for the lead while our one year old son sang happily from his perch on my back.

Less than an hour’s walk brought us to a lunch platform situated amidst giant button-grass tussocks right below the part of Cradle Mountain known as Weindorfers Tower.

After lunch, the track changes as it sidles some cliffs with water lapping below the walkway.  The spectacular ballroom forest is a feature of the western shore where ancient species of alpine plants seem to cling impossibly to the steep slopes of the Cradle Plateau.  Once again, it was less than an hour of walking that returned us to the car park.

A short drive led us around to our accommodation.  It soon became apparent that a permanent electricity supply had been connected since our last visit.  A new walking track linking the Visitor Centre with Cradle Valley provided an opportunity a couple of years ago to bring services such as power, sewerage and communications into the park.

Once settled in our cabin, we strolled around the nature walk through Weindorfers Forest dominated by huge old Pencil and King William Pines.

Waldheim Chalet at Cradle Valley

Next day, we packed up and returned to the Visitor Centre where we walked around what the children call the ‘Wheelchair Walk.’  A 500 metre long ramp/boardwalk leads through several types of alpine plant community before arriving at a lookout beside Pencil Pine Falls.

The prehistoric looking plants at the back of this frosty scene are Richea Pandanifolia or Pandanis to us normal folk.  They are also called Giant Heath and are the world's largest heath plant.

From the Cradle Mountain area, we decided to return home via Burnie on the North West Coast.  The new road (about 15 years old) heads over the Black Bluff Range where we took advantage of the cloudless skies and walked to a lookout just a short distance uphill from the highest point on the road.  At the lookout, a plaque lists the major mountains and their distances.

Our final outdoor stroll was a brief visit to the ghost town of Guilford.  In the past, this was a busy spot at the junction of the Emu Bay Railway from Burnie to Mount Bischoff (Waratah) and its southern extensions to Rosebery and Zeehan.

One of the great things about bushwalking in Tassie is the wide range of bushwalks available.  The wilderness that provided such a challenge to early explorers is still largely intact and opportunities abound for the hard-core walker.  However, as this weekend illustrated, there is plenty of walking suitable for those with more tame ambitions such as families with small children.