Trip To The Triangle - South to Bruny (Part 1)

[BrunySpec]

Trip to the Triangle – South to Bruny (Part 1)​

After being home for about two weeks back after our month-long trip to Tasmania I have finally managed to find some spare time to write a trip report. Firstly, I must apologise to Overland Bound members for the lack of interaction whilst on the road. Tasmania is one of the more remote locations in Australia and suffers from mobile reception issues. Finding access to a signal, let alone the internet for more than a fleeting catch up was nigh on impossible. Saying that, knowing this was going to be an issue this was the reason we chose to use Instagram for documentation purposes. This way we could keep friends and family informed of our endeavours and quickly archive our experiences along the way. There was a lot to take in, and a with a couple of action cams and a drone in tow I tried to keep any pressures down. Our Instagram and Vimeo/You Tube account does summarise a lot of the highlights but as most overlanders can attest to there is now way we could never over such an adventure in any medium (be that the written word, spoken word, still imagery or videography) without an expedition force. Fortunately for Overland bound members I never let a yarn get in the way of a good story!

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Part 1: North, West to South
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To help the stateside members with a quick history lesson Tasmania was once joined to the mainland of Australia. Some 12,000 years ago, Tasmania fractured away from the main land mass. Tasmania was first explored by Dutchman Abel Tasman around 1642. He named the island Anthoonij van Diemenslandt after Anthony van Diemen, the Governor-General of the Dutch East Indies. in 1803, the island was settled by the British as a penal colony. It was called Van Diemen's Land, and became part of the British colony of New South Wales. In 1824, Van Diemen's Land became an independent colony with George Arthur as the first Governor. In 1856 Britain gave the colony the right to govern itself. It had its own parliament. The name of the island was changed to Tasmania.

Just like its origins logistically it was a bit of an effort to cross the ditch to back Tasmania. It had been roughly 10 years since my last visit, and this time around we were battle hardy team members with a fledgling family. As we were going to try and cram in as much excitement as possible way we chose to travel by ship during the day. This meant our trip to Tasmania on the ferry would be at first light, unfortunately requiring an 8 hour drive through the night to make the port for a timely departure. Yes, it doesn’t sound that bad and I guess it wasn’t as I love a night drive. However, the precious cargo barely slept. Nothing really changed once we boarded and entered our cabin either, as potential sleep gave way to anticipation. Arriving in Tasmania Claire and I looked like we had some sort of spiritual journey at a random forest rave, but kids always look the best when you look your worst, right?

Swells were high with peaks to 4m, making it one of the rougher journeys on Bass Strait. Luckily, we dosed to the eyeballs on travel sickness tablets/pressure bands and found ourselves disembarking the Spirit for Wynyard with all our fluids intact. We have family in Tasmania so opted to have a few days R&R and a well needed rest before commencing the journey. We took in the sights and were astounded by some incredible coastal feature. Perhaps I either didn’t expect to see them or I was always to focused on the journey ahead. Either way the townships of Penguin and Stanley, the coastal outlooks and escarpments, the medicinal fields of Poppies and Pyrethrum were magnificent, magically supported by the first of many lighthouses. It felt great to take such a family approach to relaxation, like kicking some jet lag but still being able to soak up the sites of an international sojourn.

But this wasn’t ‘inter’, it was national… And it would be filled with experiences I shall never forget.

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As we stated to journey towards the west my thoughts turned to the journey ahead. If we were going to successfully lap this big island we would have to stick to plans, get the kilometres down and unfortunately pick and choose between fun and failure. I had spent months planning gear, travel plans, itinerary’s and performing modifications to our vehicle to suit a timetable. There was always going to be a lot of driving to do, and a lot of dust and blacktop to cover to achieve our goal. Starting at the north-west coast we visited Arthur River and the surrounding Savage River conservation areas. It was a wild country, and in between some deluge and destruction there was innocence and ruggedness. The place looked near prehistoric in some areas, yet, gentle enough to afford some sort of overland viability. It was a real credit to see Tasmania parks and Wildlife and Forestry Tasmania providing and managing both areas for tourism, and areas of protection. We were originally worried that by embarking during a peak holiday period that we would miss out on a lot of accommodation option.

Due to Tasmania’s infamous RV trail many sites were empty and we found myriads of free sites, low fee campgrounds, and some with complete facilities to boot. We could have completed the whole trip on a $0-dollar accommodation budget but I will provide more detail on this later.

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[BrunySpec]

Continued (1000 Word Limit):

Areas named ‘Edge of the World’ came and went, providing stunning visuals and humble showcasing beginnings. The number of tourists performing the same basic lap of Tasmania meant some places became far from remote, but the local communities were minimal to say the least. This is remote living at its brutish, living s made from crays and lobsterpots. Whole communities were established, avoiding fees of life or any sort of taxation reform (This has all changed though). At one stage (From what I can gather) you could claim some land if you were bold enough to attempt to trump its weather. It was like if you could do all that and still put food on your table you were more than welcome to it. No licences, no levies, locals living a truly weathered experience.

A lot of the west coast is protected from vehicular access, other areas feature iconic tracks that coupled with permit you could explore. These are some of Australia’s, let alone Tasmania’s most iconic 4wd tracks, such as the Balfour and Climes Track. They feature sand, rock, scrub, quicksand, water and a lot of mud. Not really suited to a family travelling solo without a winch and a locker. No, you don’t need a locker to overland (As so rightly pointed out here before), but you do have to know your limits. In this area, it’s better to tread lightly and follow an ethos than get stuck and destroy all on your way out. After fathoming up our gear we pressed forward, encountering amazing geological scalping’s from both overzealous mining and volcanic explosions. It was like driving on the moon, crossed with driving on volcanic rock.




The roads were quite steep in areas and has signs of wash out and accidents. It all gave way as we loped into Corinna, yet I couldn’t help but try and imagine what the area was like pre-Wilderness lodge. As remote as this area was the wilderness retreat was more population than proportion. Still, who could complain with a campsite bordering a rainforest and the iconic Pieman river on tap. Paddymelons (Small marsupials) gave us our first real interaction with Tasmanian wildlife and the howling in the distance at night brought on dreams of Thylacines and Devil. The camp sites were a dime a dozen and given our late bookings we were lucky to secure one. Corinna afforded the adults the ability to fix broken tent poles and other unfortunate early instances caused by equipment failure. The good old Australian Bush Mechanic skills paid a visit, smashing and bashing and dipping his hat as the sunset sailed west.

Crossing on the Fatman Barge was fun as the river itself was gorgeous, if only all destinations had a barge you could reflect from. Once we left the barge we were flying blind, having no accommodation options nor any real clue on destination. Our itinerary was planned to the hilt, yet some days were either intentionally blank or were left to draw straws. We had some day trips in mind but to achieve them all required a power grid, a shower and basic supplies. Our family were seasoned campers but rarely do we get the chance to disappear into the wild without some sort of recourse. Every fifth day became known as laundry day. A way of justifying the need for coffee and bakery treats, brought about by a lack of clean underwear. We rolled through a few towns before settling on Strahan. “Yes, we have one site left” came the call, and that was enough for me to pull the brakes and touch base with civilisation. Strahan had a nice coastal outlook and incredible history, but we were about forging our own, saving a buck and finding some warm tannin water to soak our bones.



My want for real adventure was about to kick in with many of the Navara modification itching to pay themselves off. Tasmania has many adventures just waiting for the intrepid explorer. Many beaches, many rainforests and as we found out many waterfalls. If you are lucky in some instances they are all combined. You can drive on some remote beach one minute, get all crossed up in a mountain the next. I chose to do both and took off to a track known as Montezuma Falls, featuring Tasmania’s highest waterfall (sic). With family in tow I checked the topo maps and spritely ventured up through Zeehan towards the canopy. Some recent feedback two weeks prior (Thanks Emily) indicated the track was solid underfoot but expect some mud and a bit of wheeling fun. I had the track bible, some recent intel and the determination. On any given day, this was classified as an easy/medium grade, yet to my surprise conditions had deteriorated.

With my grin reaching maximum cheek lift my navigator started to express concern. Elements of doubt can cause panic so I explained the importance of remaining calm and told her I was assessing every obstacle that was presented to the wheels. I would call my skills as a driver on par with above average, with my greatest strength the ability to measure situations. Our vehicle, our company, our position, our modifications. That’s one of the advantages of have a well-equipped vehicle that has limits. With our topo GPS showing a couple of turns left we encountered the final descent/ascent. The track down had some rutted edges right at the apex that would present many issues for any modified rig, let alone our IFS ute. I walked both the ascent and descent and then made the call to cut our expedition short. After an hour of trekking through jungle like conditions it was a little heart wrenching to get that close and have to cut and run. But this was reality and it was all apparent, plus we weren’t out of the woods just yet (No three point turns on this one-way track!).

 

[BrunySpec]

(Continued, 1000 Word Limit):

The reports on the track I received were accurate, but obviously things can change. There were signs of a heavy convoy going through recently, that and a lot of fresh water inhabiting the upper reaches. I have no doubt I could have continued with a spotter, another vehicle for potential recovery and another driver with similar experience. Whilst the track is possibly one of Tasmania’s most popular routes we were solo that day. Even on a Saturday morning we passed nobody and our VHF calls to check for opposing traffic went unanswered. After returning to the base and airing back up I remembered the other facet of the day’s adventure, a trip to a beach some 60 km’s away. If you look closely in the video at a drone vista you can spy the mountain ranges in the distance. Being able to drive down to the water, pitch the awning and break open some watermelon felt like heaven on earth. The heat was unbearable but everyone was buzzing after the day’s earlier exhaustion. Even though we didn’t reach all the highs this was still one of the highlights of our trip. After all, sharing experiences, their tribulations and triumphs is what @triptothetriangle was all about.

After a windy night and with the west coast weather opening we started to notice flaws in our setup. Our 2 x 3m awning tent was holding fast but even with comfortable chairs and amazing vistas we were at the mercy of decisions. We would often wait until late in the afternoon before committing to a tent placement as it only took roughly 10 minutes to setup externally and bedding internally. Once we were up that was it until the morning, its design afforded little change. If you were to find yourself leeward of the wind there was very little you could do to sinch down any further than the design intended, this made for flappy walls and some restless nights. We did have an ace in the hole just in case, a $50 pop up tent that was suspect but stable. If we needed to translocate or had the ability to stay in an area for more than a day all bedding was thrown in the sacrificial and the main setup was dismantled for the day. Our entire setup was choice brought about by budget, yet the purchase was governed by ease of use. It’s no wonder it had previously earned the moniker the ‘TAT - Tag Along Tent’.




The following days were filled with accessible waterfalls and some sore eyed sights. We travelled through Queenstown and were amazed at the defloration and refinance of years of mining. Queenstown could almost be seen as some sort of gatekeeper, providing access centrally, and more so a path towards the mountainous great lakes regions and infamous its escarpments. One such heiress apparent was Lake St Clare. Famous for its bushwalking, flora and fauna this was overlanding of the two-legged kind. There were droves of visitors to the area and we were ounce again lucky to secure accommodation in the National Park. Fees were low and amenities decent. We were visited by Native Quolls through the night (An endangered species that were normally very flighty). No matter how hard I tried they were not the least bit interested in being photographed.

I would love to go back and explore some of the walks available. People were donned head to toe in brands associated with mountainous exploration and it was great to see them being worn in such a setting. I live in a city that is subject to extreme lows and highs and a smattering of all types of weather so I have always found technical gear more befitting and aesthetically pleasing. Saying such I could have got lost in the crowd here, blending in to never return. Alas we didn’t have the time to spare, nor the availability of an extra night so we had to move on. We had one two more nights of accommodation to fulfil before hitting our main destination and plenty of kilometres between. We flew kites opposite the pump house, followed by a visit to some other amazing areas such as Westerway and Mount Field National Park. We picked all sorts of berries and ate our fill while doing so, explored giant forests with rainforests at the end like pots of gold on a Rainbow trail. We made to make haste for the town of Southport though pulled up at a town called New Norfolk for the night.





Before arriving in town, I stumbled upon my first piece of folklore. A place filled with adorning history that I have been able to acknowledge it afar through journalistic acumen and sporting truth. Visiting a Trout hatchery was a bit like visiting a lavender farm, would be nice but plenty of other things to do. Pulling in I was blown away at what lay before me, and it was only then it really clicked. Tasmanian Fisheries were breeding an assortment of wild genus, and both brood stock and fingerlings decorated the pools on display for all. I have been to several Iconic hatcheries on the mainland yet ‘Salmon Pond’s was easily the largest, providing the most access with a sheer lack of red tape. Atlantic Salmon were in large numbers, along with Albino Rainbow (Golden), Tiger, Brook and Brown Trout. The kids loved feeding them and whilst these fish were not in their natural habitat I loved getting up close with them.

If you have ever caught a Trout in Australia or New Zealand you can thank the ‘New Norfolk Salmon Ponds’, some home sick early settlers and some never say die botanists. Love them our hate them it bothers me none. l thank the lords every day...

 

[BrunySpec]

Part 2 - To be continued...

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[Cottonwoody]

Fantastic trip......

Sent from my XT1254 using OB Talk mobile app

 

[Luis Merlo]

Awesome !