So Many Paths (somewhere in the north Tarkine)

Today’s title, dear reader, is a classic by the Little River Band from 1978. Although there may have been many paths up the mountain, our single path was overgrown and problematic and the view from the top? Not, as the song states, still the same but quite changeable. More on that later.

The day began in a more leisurely fashion because there was no requirement to break camp. We were up at 6:45am for a 7:00am breakfast to leave to climb the mountain at 8:00am. Today it was an out and back walk, from the camp site to a trig station above the canopy that promised views of where we had meandered to date.

Light filtering through the canopy.

As seemed to be the fashion, the first direction was up through the still dripping scrub. The forecast for today was for serious rain and possible thunderstorms. To date the weather had been very kind and there was only a brief shower overnight, which did not amount to much.

The “track” snaked its way through the forest, undulating up and down the hill side, as we negotiated fallen trees. We followed the magic pink tags when they could be seen. It was easy to wander off if you allowed your attention to drift - the track was indistinct, even non-existent in sections, because so few humans pass through the area. Tracks were easily swallowed by a sea of leatherwood petals, falling leaves or rapidly growing mosses and lichens. We are the last group of the year to walk through this section of the Tarkine, the next people to come through, won’t arrive until November, eight months away.

A steep bit.

Despite the relatively short distance we needed to cover, progress was slow at times. We clambered up hills littered with the fallen giants of the forest. We splashed through creeks, across muddy areas and through fern gullies and groves. It was difficult but the mist, which showed no signs of dissipating, made it ethereal. The grey sky above suggested rain was still a real possibility.

There were plenty of fungi.

After a morning of dips and climbs, we were suddenly heading steeply downhill to a creek crossing. The climb up the other side was like nothing I’d ever experienced. There was a narrow track that could only been seen when deliberately searching for it. The scrub had encroached from both sides. Bauera, two metres tall and dense, completely enclosed the way forward and could only be negotiated by force. The track was incredibly steep and very slippery underfoot and the Bauera attempted to thwart any progress at every tiny step. Slip back, fall to the side, lunge forward. The person in front of you might be only two steps away but they could not be seen. I have bush-bashed before but nothing in this league. It was exhausting, but the view from the top drew me forward. Sorry, no photos, I didn’t dare stop to unclip the camera.

Button grass, heath and mist.

Suddenly the Bauera was gone and button grass was in its place. While it grabbed at your boots and tried to trip you, the going was much easier. The danger on the track was now the occasional jack jumper nest. It eventuated that there were four nests between the end of the Bauera and the trig station. The ants looked angry, I didn’t stop to find out as the call “jack jumper nest” was passed down the line to alert the unsuspecting.

The button grass signalled the final climb to the summit. The mist was still rolling across the valley although the cloud had started to thin. Would the promised view be waiting for us?

The summit.

That became a secondary concern after we hit the top of the mountain. Our first actions were to drop the daypacks and check for leeches. I had two. One was just beginning to sup on my knee before its meal was terminated. There was another attempting to traverse my boot.

The literal high point of the day.

De-leeched and re-energised by chocolate (thanks Dave), we explored our surroundings and looked out across the top of the Tarkine. The mist was rolling away, the clouds, although moving very fast, were clearing and there were brief patches of sun. Worth the struggle? I remain unconvinced.

The view as the mist cleared.

The return trip was so much easier that I began to wonder if I had exaggerated the experience on the way there. We moved quickly toward camp, stopping only to de-leech once again. This time I had three of the little critters, inching their way up my boots and gaiters. None made their target. We were back at camp for lunch.

These did not make dinner.

Once again, Dave volunteered to be the water carrier as we made our way down to the creek and up to the Tarkine Falls. I tried some fancy shots of the falls but without a tripod and stable surface it proved nearly impossible.

The falls.

The afternoon was quite restful and we whiled the day away playing cards and chatting. Dave was introduced to Monopoly Deal, the card game version of iconic board game. He lost. Multiple times. A fact Lani was prone to remind him about for the remainder of the trek. Lucky Dave isn’t competitive (LOL. Much). He totally didn’t vow to buy Monopoly Deal when he got home, master the craft and request Lani as the guide for our next adventure so sweet revenge could be extracted (he did). The wind continued to blow from the south which kept the humidity at bay and the sun continued to shine. 

Arty shot of the falls.

Dinner was mushroom and pea risotto. The guides continue to surprise by pulling fresh food from their large backpacks and challenging David’s palate.

A riff on the 'boots and view' shot.

Weather: misty and cloudy before a clear afternoon.

Distance covered: 11.1km.

Total distance: 43.8km

Until tomorrow. 

Heaven Can Wait (somewhere in the north Tarkine)

We woke to the sound of thunder. It was disturbingly loud and promised to deliver the rain we’d been expecting. It was quite pleasant to lie snug and warm in the pre-dawn, listening to it roll across the valley, despite what it might bring. As it eventuated, there was more noise than substance, at least for where we were camped. There was a brief, very light, shower of rain before dawn and another at breakfast. Nothing substantial and certainly nothing to impede the breaking of camp.

Breakfast under the tarp was the usual porridge and tea. While the brown sugar made the porridge slightly more palatable, I was still not a convert. By the time breakfast was over, our tent was dry enough to pack. Today’s walk was 7km, allegedly. We’d see what my Apple watch had to say at day’s end. The bonus was that our new camp site would be home for the next two nights.

Purple coral.

Our walk today included two rest breaks plus lunch. We were underneath the canopy the entire day which protected us from the intermittent drizzle which persisted on and off for around an hour all up. It wasn’t really enough to get us wet.

The rainforest is populated by three main species of tree, myrtle, leatherwood and sassafras, and a proliferation of tree ferns. The ground is carpeted by mosses and lichens in all shades of green. Actually, everything is covered by the mosses and lichens, the ground, the trunks of trees and ferns, and the trees that have fallen. It is a wonderland of muffled sound, soft footfalls and filtered light.

There are reportedly over 400 varieties of fungi in the Tarkine. We saw fungi of all colours, shapes and sizes, from huge bracket fungi to small emerging coral varieties, from white to red to purple and all colours in between.

One of the many bracket fungi.

Our undulating walk was more pleasant today due to the drop in humidity. While we had some steep sections to negotiate, there were no sections that caused me to sweat profusely enough to have it drip off my nose. That said, the forest is an ever-changing landscape and trees come crashing down on a regular basis. Negotiating these fallen giants and following the magic pink tape trail markers could prove challenging. Especially if the fallen tree also obliterated the site of the tape. At one particularly smashed up gully courtesy of a very large fallen tree, our lead guide for that section, Lish, found some “track treasure”: a lone walking pole that must have fallen from someone’s pack during a previous expedition. Rather than add weight to her pack, Dave adopted the pole as his own for the remainder of the trip. A quick Google when we returned to civilisation revealed the pole to be a Black Diamond Distance Carbon FLZ worth $180 when new. Score!

At the crest of one hill was a wooden sign post. In one direction was heaven, in the other, Tarkine Falls, our destination. Heaven can wait, I quipped as we changed direction to the falls. And yes, dear reader, the obvious link to today’s title, a cracker from Meatloaf back in 1977.

Our camp site was less than a 45 minute walk from the signpost and we were ferrying the food bags to the kitchen by 3:45pm. Fortunately the tarp was in place as the light drizzle continued. The tents were constructed under the tarp and then walked into place and anchored to the ground. It was a mini production line and effectively ensured a dry tent for the night.

A mood shot of our tent.

The rain stopped and the brave and energetic walked to the waterfall to refill water bottles. This included Dave who carried water for a number of the other walkers who opted to stay around camp. We gathered under the tarp around 5pm for tea or hot chocolate, as the afternoon drifted towards dinner. That evening, dinner was tofu laksa with fresh snow peas. Dave’s palate was certainly travelling to new places on this trek. I even saw him eat a chicken and salad roll. (from Dave: Snitch!)

The rain made them prettier.

This group was, without doubt, the most cohesive group with whom I’ve ever walked. I posed this conundrum to everyone on one of our rest breaks earlier in the day: if there is always “that someone” in any given group, and this group doesn’t have “that someone”, does that mean I am that person? Or is it Dave? It garnered a few laughs and the acknowledgement that we didn’t have “that someone”.

Before bed, I decided to brave the toilet trench. The darkness wasn’t really a concern but being attacked by giant moths flying at my headlamp was, well, distracting and disconcerting. Back down at camp, we headed for the tent and bed. Getting in and out of a two-person tent proved challenging. There was limited space to sit to remove your boots and stash your pack in the vestibule and changing for bed meant lying down to remove your existing clothes. A wet tent fly only exacerbated things, but our mattresses were comfortable, sleeping bags warm and the tent, despite conditions, was dry inside.

The symbol of the Tarkine: a curling fern frond.

The distance of today’s walk was an estimate because my watch misbehaved and didn’t fully track two sections.

Weather: some light rain

Distance covered: 10.5km.

Total distance: 32.7km

Until tomorrow.