Overland Track Report 6 – 13 Feb 2012

[South_Aussie_Hiker]

Well here we are again. Six months after completing Frenchman's, I begin to feel the Tasmania hiking itch again. I always know when I've had enough of society, because I find myself suddenly browsing online gear specials and the latest, greatest ultralight gear reviews – dreaming of cool, temperate rainforest separated by glacial rock ranges and summits. Somehow, I start convincing myself that I need to start replacing perfectly good and hardly used gear. This is when I know it has started.

Once I knew the itch wasn't going to be satisfied by looking at gear and trip reports online, I speak to my wife about an all blokes trip down the Overland while she looks after the 6 month old. With eyes full of jealousy (loves walking in Tasmania as much as I do), she agrees to looking after bubs for a whole 8 days without me. A few quickly placed emails shows interest from some mates.

Three mates, in fact, are interested and I am soon busy every night working out what gear we can lend and what they'd have to buy themselves. A wedding commitment for one walker will delay our departure by a day which is tricky as we each only have a week of leave. But somehow we all manage to wrangle an extra day off. One of my mates gets a new job within two weeks of the walk and has to pull the pin at the last minute. He is disappointed, but we understand he would have been silly to turn it down.

The three of us remaining arrive into Cradle about 2pm on Sunday afternoon, almost exactly a year after I'd done Frenchman's with my Wife and Dad. We proceed to get drenched down at Dove trying to get some photos. The BOM site predicts showers and/or rain for the entire week. By the time we hit the lodge for our last big steak for 8 days, it is raining cats and dogs, with HUGE, deep torrents of water running down the paved roads. This isn't looking so good.

We hit the hay in our cabin around 10pm, to the sound of smashing rain and horrific winds. The Devonport airport weather station records gusts that night to 100km/hr.

Day 1

Despite our best intentions, we miss the first bus at 0800. We just make the next one, which is supposed to be 0815 but which seems to be running a few minutes early. The driver comes inside and tells us to hurry up not long after parking, and then as we lift our packs to walk outside, starts with “you tell your mate if he isn't on that bus in 15 seconds, he's gonna miss out!”

We rush outside and throw our packs on the wet floor at the back of the bus and race around to climb in. The driver then climbs in and goes to takeoff, finding the warning for the back door is still on. With another glare in our direction, he gets out again and slams the back door – on his return presenting us with a broken hip belt clip which had jammed in the door and prevented it from closing the first time.

As my anger grows and I prepare a barrage of words about his attitude, my friend luckily jumps in and asks what he is supposed to do about his pack. He gets a mumble about “you should be able to fix it enough to walk using spare boot laces, and you should have spare boot laces, and if you don't you're an idiot and you shouldn't be allowed to do the walk”. If PWS or Maxwell's are reading this, you need to do something about your pig of a bus driver. The multitude of drivers we had the day before were wonderful, polite and very helpful – this particular one must be the exception.

Once at Ronny Creek, we sign in at the booth and assess the damaged pack. It looks like half the buckle clip is okay and might be enough to hold, so we set off with a few photos in drizzle and low cloud.

The climb up through to Crater is as I remembered it from 2009, but stunning nonetheless. In contrast, the weather is particularly bleak compared to blue skies two years ago. From here, the gradient begins to gain momentum and our 20kg packs soon become apparent. Being blokes, no-one wants to be the first to complain, so we madly fiddle with pack straps in the hope of a miracle solution and grunt our way up.

At the Lake Lilla junction, we rest and the weather appears to improve. Marion's and beyond is still shrouded in, and strong winds are causing orographic clouds to form with amazing speed along the ridges. The chained section seems a lot easier than I remember, and we are definitely making a much better pace.

At Marion's, we have intermittent views of Ronny Creek and Dove Lake, but it is cold standing still and we are keen to keep moving, soon overtaking two European backpackers. The new track work along this section is fantastic, with only the odd section here and there with failing old duckboard. The footbridge a bit further up has been completely washed away, so we help each other across the raging, deep torrent with a few jumps and potential twisted ankles – managing to remain dry. The two backpackers have now caught up with us, and are busy walking up and down the bank trying to work out a route over the water. While getting wet feet is a fact of life in Tassie, only a couple of hours into a week long hike it doesn't seem such a good idea. We notice on our side a pile of new timber which has been choppered in, and find the longest one we can. We manage to carry it upstream about 20m and place it across to help keep our foreign friends' feet dry, before returning it to the pile.

While strong winds blow cloud across the ridge, the rain has stopped and we manage a short rest in Kitchen Hut to warm up. It is the absolute middle of summer – and man is it cold in here. The stories I've heard of daywalkers sheltering here overnight after getting caught out make me shiver – to be overnight in a place like this with nothing but the clothes on your back would be a very scary and still very dangerous (hypothermia wise) exercise.

With Cradle shrouded in mist we continue on and it begins to clear. We stop at a rocky outcrop for lunch, with good views of the Fury Gorge. We make good time and once we reach the Barn Bluff summit track, the cloud reveals the summit and we are enticed into having a crack. We drop our packs, taking wet weather gear and make it as far as the final summit block when a line of showers with strong gusty winds hits us. We are struggling to stay on our feet at times because of the winds, so make a hasty retreat. Not all is lost though, with great views on the return trip down into Waterfall Valley while heading back towards the Overland Track.

After grabbing our packs, we head down the zig zag track and into Waterfall Valley hut. We have made good time, and I remember the descent seemingly taking forever last time. The hut is getting full, so we quickly grab a top bunk for warmth and watch the hoards roll in for hours. At last light, there are at least 30 in the hut, plus a few down at the old hut – and the group campsite is full. The ranger tells us that a few who walked in yesterday were hammered by the weather and so have had a rest day to dry their gear and gather themselves before pushing on. No wonder it's full!

While we didn't get any summits, it was still a successful day. The weather, while wet and windy, certainly has relented from last night and has slowly improved during the day – we are completely dry (including feet), so that is a start.

We turn in fairly early to a chorus of snoring, interrupted by periods of heavy rain during the night.

Day 2

What a terrible night's sleep. My new NeoAir All Season is comfortable, but the noise of the snorers in the hut and my excitement at being back on the trail means I get a series of 20min naps, drifting in and out of awareness. We are crammed like sardines in the hut and the heater has been on so it's warm, despite the showers and wind swirling around outside. Perhaps I just need to accept that I never sleep well on the first night of a trip.

By the time morning comes, we are woken by the hut noise and are one of the last few groups to get going. We had talked in Adelaide about trying to get hut space every night to avoid using the tent, but soon find our walking pace (especially in tough, uphill sections) means that we pass most walkers during the course of the day. The lovely hut ranger wishes us well as we head out into light drizzle and lots of standing water. I'm somewhat relieved to see Barn Bluff still clagged in, because we had discussed backtracking to summit and I'm lacking motivation for the extra 10 or so kilometres.

As we head through the valley, the mist clears and we get stunning views down further into the valley as we climb up around the next ridge. It is amazing that a slight change in the weather gives such a different viewpoint – last time in 2009 was clear skies, but fog blanketed the track until the turnoff to Lake Will. We struggle to find the right clothing balance – keeping dry in intermittent showers, but not sweating up a storm when heading uphill. We stop several times to change layers and find a good compromise

At the Lake Will junction, it is drizzling, but a patch of blue sky tricks us into dumping our packs and heading along to see the views. Lake Will has a stunning fog, misting along the surface – but the views above are obscured by cloud. A French backpacker takes a dip and asks for a photo to prove his masculinity – and then shivers uncontrollably while getting dressed!

We head back to the Overland and continue southbound, with the rain finally relenting for the first time in 48 hours and the sun starting to shine through. The views down to Windermere from the lookout are superb, and we meander along slowly (although still overtaking many of the older walkers).

A track worker is working just north of Windermere, laying the lengthwise duckboard with skill and speed. I certainly prefer it to the duckboard planking which seems to require at least double the materials and much more labour. The long, thin planks are easier to walk on, requiring less heads down time – and more time to look at the surrounds, which is the reason I'm here. Someone talks to the track worker later in the day and relays the conversation to us. He works for months on end with his son, who walks in/out once a week to Cradle (in half a day, mind you!) for gathering food and supplies.

We snag a bottom bunk which we later share with another lady Jo, by squeezing up. Once again the hut is overflowing, with sleepers on the tables and floor in the common area. Late in the afternoon we wander down to the Lake for great views, and I share with a few other walkers the story of the logbook on the island. They would later swim out there to sign their names, although one didn't know how he would ever make the return swim after the temperature of the water caught him off guard.

I wander up to the camping area to the south of the hut and take a couple of snaps of a paddymelon, sniffing out crumbs around the platfroms. The track workers have their own makeshift semi-permanent camp in the trees, and I find an empty platform and sit down to enjoy the ambience, sunshine and complete solitude (for a little while, at least).
We crack out the cards tonight with some of the backpackers. We try to be quiet once the sun goes down, but cop a few glares for not going to bed when everyone else does. The horrendously loud snoring starts and we spend the last half hour trying not to laugh uncontrollably at the choir of bodily noises reverberating around the hut. I can't remember who wins cards, so it must not have been worth remembering. Once in bed, we hear the others still giggling to the crescendo of a loud snorer in the north western corner of the hut.

Day 3

I've slept much better tonight, but the loud banging and noises from a select few at 5am obviously is their immature protest to us not going to bed when everyone else did. I'm not amused, as we tried to be as quiet as possible - and now they are retaliating by deliberately making noise as much as they can.

We are slow to get going today, and are the second last group to leave the hut. After a generally cloudless night, there's a real chill to the air. Sunlight beats down between the trees, and steam rises into the air where it hits the shrubs. The duck boards which still remain in the shade are occasionally icy, and I quickly decide walking last in the group today was a good idea. Not only do I get pre-warned of slippery areas, their dancing attempts at trying to maintain footing on the ice with heavy backpacks keeps me amused. It's like watching a blooper reel.

We gently meander up over the plateau, stopping briefly to take some great reflection photos of Pelion West. By the time we reach the Forth River lookout, we've caught a few groups and we hand cameras around to each other to get some group photos. Last time the serenity was somewhat ruined by helicopter operations to the private hut just to the south. Today, it's blissfully peaceful.

I'm surprised by the amount of water in the creek crossings as we descend down to Frog Flats. We keep a look out for the track to Pelion West, and eventually find what looks to be it. I'd really like to have a go at Pelion West, but we decide with a late start we probably won't have the time and should do Oakleigh instead. Day three with a side trip up Pelion would be epic.

Frog flats is calm and peaceful, and we invite ourselves over to the private group and share lunch at their spot. A few jack jumpers appear, but are avoided without any damage. I'm really starting to get used to tuna and mountain bread, although my alternate lunch of cheese, crackers and salami sticks still wins hands down. The private tour guide points out the surrounding peaks and seems at ease managing the group of retirees, most of whom would drive me bananas. He's done the OT 70 times apparently, so I'm sure he's walked with worse.

When they start packing up, we move on immediately to stay in front, to make good time up to Pelion and facilitate a crack at Oakleigh. Sections of mud along this part of the track are the worst we will encounter, and I don't remember it being anywhere near this bad last time. It probably needs to be ear marked for track works in the near future.

As we walk into Pelion, an old man waves hello from his tent on one of the western camping platforms. He's a retired, 84 year old potato farmer from the Devonport area and has walked in from Arm River with a friend yesterday. The friend who continued south to Lake St Clair had carried his pack in for him, and he was trying to recruit a porter for the return trip. We obviously couldn't help, but had we been going that way we certainly would have obliged. After losing his wife and being struck down with cancer and heart problems, he certainly hasn't allowed those things to dampen his enthusiasm for life. What a remarkable person.

We grab a room at Pelion, and I'm talked out of fashioning a “non-snorers only” sign on the door. We grab some high GI food, pack the daypacks and start heading out towards Oakleigh. The professional guide had described to us earlier in the day a waist deep quagmire, which we weren't too keen on. Frenchman's Cap with the occasional knee depth mud was certainly enough for me. While the rolling plains across to the base of the mountain are indeed very wet from the last few days rain, it is more of a wet creek than a bog with mud. While we are walking in ankle to shin depth water the whole way, our boots (while drenched) are sparkling clean at the other end.

The track markers are a little tricky to follow in places and we soon find ourselves facing a stiff vertical slog up the forest slopes. It's very steep and at our cracking pace, our cardio fitness is getting a huge workout. For the majority of the climb, there are no views, except for an occasional glimpse back towards Pelion or further east. We stop at the top of the climb to eat/drink, and then wander across to the prominent and well photographed cliff blocks on the south western corner, reaching them in less than 1.5 hours after leaving Pelion.

The view is absolutely breathtaking. I'm not a huge fan of heights, but I manage to wander over and sit with my legs dangling off the edge. The vertical drop is stunning, not only because of the big climb up from Pelion Plains, but more so because below Oakleigh runs the River Forth Valley which falls many hundreds of metres below the Pelion Plains. This is our first summit after a few days of ordinary weather, and my two walking buddies are gob-smacked. I'm very glad the weather has cleared after promising them amazing summits and views, but having not done Oakleigh myself last time, I'm also consumed by the view and taking snaps. There's a wonderful deep rushing sound coming up to the mountain summit. We are unsure if this is from the falls on the river below, or the wind blowing around the towering dolerite columns, although there hardly seems to be more than a knot or two of wind.

We decide not to walk further north to the true summit, and beat a more subdued retreat down the mountain, now knowing we won't run out of daylight. About an hour before last light we arrive back at Pelion – exhausted after some 25+ km of walking, yet exhilarated by the achievement. Our feet are quite a bit more fatigued tonight, and one member of my group who has had wet feet for a couple of days is sporting some impressive blisters. We eat some dinner on the balcony as a magnificent sunset provides images which will no doubt bring lifelong memories. After cards, I retire to bed a content person. Tasmania has dazzled me once more.

Day 4

We get a reasonably early start today, and as drizzle falls, we eat breakfast and start packing up. We are one of the first groups out of the hut and head up towards Pelion Gap. While any climb first thing in the morning is a bit of a slap in the face, it's a gentle climb and we meander up fairly quickly without too much effort, stopping at the cascading falls briefly.

By the time we drop our packs, it has stopped drizzling and appears to be clearing a bit, but slow moving cloud still blankets the Doris-Ossa saddle and the great mountain behind. We have discussions for a few minutes and decide it's worth a crack because the winds are light and the ground is not very wet – we might not get any views, but we won't have any safety problems on the way up.

As we climb, momentary breaks in the cloud come and go. The track which winds up towards the Doris saddle is in significantly worse condition that the last time from what I remember. Water appears to be running down the walking track, slowly gouging a river into the side of the hill. We arrive at the saddle and have a quick break, scoffing a muesli bar and continuing on. I remember the climb from here being fairly steep with a few scrambles, but it seems a lot less so the second time around. We clamber up to the summit in clear air, but with cloud lightly blowing through below and above us. We get good views north towards Oakleigh initially, but after an hour or so there are reasonable intermittent views in all directions. I boulder hop across to the NE corner of Ossa and get some spectacular views that I didn't get last time. You definitely wouldn't want to have a fall between some of the rocks.

More and more people have arrived now, so we make tracks and head back down without too much trouble. We meet a few more at Pelion Gap, one of whom is going to head up Pelion East. He leaves drips of blood all over the platform from pulling leaches off. Our packs have been ignored by the wildlife, so after some lunch we keep moving and enjoy the easy descent down to Kia Ora.

Some of the older hikers have walked straight though to the hut today. The temperature today must be at least 18-20 degrees, and inside the hut it must be closer to 30 degrees. The heater is raging away (despite the sign on the wall prohibiting its use above 10 degrees) and stinky socks, boots and clothes fill the hut with a humid stench. I avoid starting an argument with people who don't think the rules apply to them, and we quickly each grab a towel and head down for a wash below the falls.

By the time we have returned, I'm adamant that I should give the new tent a run. While it holds three at a squeeze, one of our party is still happy to stay in the hut. It is a breeze to setup and the views from the platform to the range beyond are stunning. The tie downs are adequate, but once again being a member of bushwalk.com pays dividends – the cup hooks I have packed prove to be the best solution.

We would later learn that just after we left the Ossa summit there was an ankle injury. A man was carried down from the summit by two others, who then set him up in his tent at Pelion Gap and walked ahead to a private hut to raise the alarm by sat phone. One of the helpers hasn't returned by sunset and his partner is understandably worried. We start talking about getting a group together with some gear to go looking for him, but just as I think about starting to pack he arrives into the hut just before darkness.

We enjoy dinner on the serenity of the platform in fading light, and then enjoy cards in the hut until late. The quality of sleep in the tent is unreal in the warm conditions. I have always preferred sleeping in the huts, but the quality of our company is making me think again.

Day 5

We sleep so well in fact, we don't wake until well after many have departed. By the time we eat and pack, we are the last to leave. It's a fine weather day, which is the complete opposite from last time on the track. We make good time, and catch the first groups by Du Cane Hut.

The falls are spectacular. Because of the drier conditions, I descend to the bottom of each set and take countless photos. One walker has become completely disorientated, so we help direct him back towards the Overland. After lunch at the Hartnett falls turnoff, we walk for a solid 15 mins before I realise my walking pole is nowhere to be seen. A 5 min run each way past confused looking walkers and we are back on the track. It's good to enjoy the views along this section without being enclosed in rain and low cloud.

As we round one corner and one of my group is talking about the feeling of absolute silence and serenity, a man with a pick walks straight out of the forest towards us. He wears a Parks uniform but looks distracted and is very short with us. He is looking for a “particular shaped rock” for some track work he is doing, but doesn't seem impressed we take an interest. He asks for our track passes, and stands there impatiently while we retrieve them. I explain to him I don't wear it on the outside of the pack as advertised because it will get pulled off by a tree branch and lost. We show him two out of three to which he makes a snide remark, turns around and wanders back into the forest.

Bert Nichols Hut appears after a fairly leisurely day's walking. I sit on the platform and enjoy the views across to Geryon as the sun sets. I know many on bushwalk.com do not hold the hut in high regard, but it certainly is an achievement to have such a place in the middle of nowhere.

Old mate Park Ranger is now doing the rounds in the hut, hassling people about how they are getting out. One lovely lady and her mum from Albury say they are planning to jump on the ferry at some stage. When they tell him they don't have a booking, he launches into a tirade. Apparently they MUST have made a booking in advance, and won't get on if they haven't, and this and that... Everyone else in the hut looks awkwardly at each other while he berates them. They have a completely flexible schedule and have enough supplies to walk out or camp for a few days if the ferry is full.

I hope this ranger has learnt some people skills since then. He definitely could learn a lot from the excellent volunteer stationed at Waterfall Valley. We do some food swaps with other walkers – milk powder (of which we have heaps) for steamed rice and a Backcountry desert.

Day 6

Most groups are continuing on to the ferry today, with one energetic Frenchman heading out early for a huge slog right through to Cynthia Bay. We are heading up into Pine Valley, a relatively easy day's walking.

The scenery today is different – with foliage that I'm much more familiar with. One small tiger snake gives me a bit of scare coming around a tight bend, but we get off lightly – some groups have seen 3 or 4 today in the warmer weather. We say goodbye to most groups at the turn off and head up towards Pine Valley. I've got a real spring in my step because this is country I haven't covered before. The track meanders through forest and is obviously less traveled than the Overland.

There is only one couple in the hut, plus an older man who is tenting on his own. He soon disappears towards the Labyrinth. Two more of our Overland comrades arrive and we agree that after some lunch, the five of us will attempt the Acropolis. We pack some food/water and a few survival basics into the day pack.

The track is steep and unrelenting. We are really working at our limit to keep up with the couple as they ascend towards the plateau – they are definitely very fit, perhaps even more than us. It's definitely the most physically challenging section (and pace) since we left Cradle. Up on the plateau, the views return and rain forest becomes open scrub with the odd gum here and there. The Acropolis now in view, it seems further away than ever. It certainly is a massive climb.

Once we hit the base of the cliffs, the going gets a bit tougher. The odd scramble starts getting tricky and several times we stop to consider turning around. While I'm not a fan of steep scrambles, I think my previous experience on the Overland and also Frenchman's starts to pay dividends. I manage to find a way up the trickiest section. The only thing I can do to convince the others to come up is to yell out that it looks easier and flatter from here on. It certainly is easier from here on, but it is pretty much the limit of our group. For safety, I've decided splitting up is not a smart option, so I'm relieved when we make it to the summit block and start the boulder hopping to the true summit.

The views are absolutely spectacular. Geryon stands with a shear cliff that could never fail to impress, and I get shivers thinking about bushwalkers climbing the northern and southern summits. Everyone is excited, with handshakes all around. It is definitely more rewarding than the other summits we have completed – perhaps because we were so close to turning around when it was getting hard.

We can see Bert Nichol's Hut from here, and it seems so close. A track from there straight up to the Acropolis and down into Pine Valley certainly would prevent the backtracking to get here. The Labyrinth appears mystic, perhaps because I've been reading and thinking about Clare Hutchison in the lead up to this walk. There is a yellow tent fly just visible amongst the lakes.

The long descent down to the hut is done much more quietly, with aching bones and muscles protesting with every step. There are a few more groups at Pine Valley on our return, and I'm relieved to see the old man return from the Labyrinth. We wash well downstream in the creek, where the near freezing water temperatures take my breath away. It's the first time I've felt really clean since starting the hike. Clear skies tonight cause the temperature in the hut to plummet as soon as the sun sets (plus the fact that the heater hasn't been blazing since early afternoon) so I actually use my thermals for the first time. My sleeping bag is still adequate opened out as a quilt on my new Thermarest All Season.

Day 7

The morning is an absolute cracker so I head up to the helipad for some early morning photos. We also head up Cephissus creek for some exploring and photos before leaving. Today is an easy day down to Narcissus and Echo Point.

The walking is easy and downhill or flat. We enjoy lunch on the platform at Narcissus and watch the ferry pull in and tie up. It is running a little late but the driver doesn't seem fussed by people who have connecting transport and flights to meet. He tells them to relax and wanders up to Narcissus Hut to check if anyone else wants a ride. Eventually he returns and the ferry heads off. I feel a little jealous that they will soon be eating processed food in comfort, but my memory of Echo Point as a magical place is enough to will me on.

We arrive into Echo Point mid afternoon. While the signs warning of black rats is no longer on the door of the hut, it's still not very inviting so I decide to set up my tent just behind the hut in the only space (other than the beach) which will fit a three person tent. The others decide to stay in the hut, and the place becomes a hive of activity as kayakers and hikers appear from Cynthia Bay. They explain it's a long weekend in Tasmania and they've taken the opportunity to get away.

We see a platypus surface a few times (my first one in the wild) and cook dinner on the beach north of the hut. On the beach to the south, it's crowded with perhaps 12 or 15 tents. There is not a breath of wind as the sun begins to set, and we get some magnificent photos across towards Ida. Cumulus clouds which have been building for the last hour or so give magnificent reds and oranges. It's the most stunning sunset I've ever seen, in a place that gives me goosebumps just thinking about. As others keep snapping away with cameras, I sit on the jetty reflecting on what has once again been an absolutely awesome experience on the OT, but yet different in so many ways.

I know in 24 hours time I will be home in Adelaide, and try to soak up as much as I can before returning to the hectic pace of modern life, with work and chores and responsibilities. If Echo Point was within three hours of Adelaide (like it is from Hobart), I'd be camping there every time I get two consecutive days off work.

We head to bed early, because of a planned 6am start. A three person tent is an absolute luxury on my own, although I do wake up once during the night because I'm cold.

Day 8

We get away by 7am, with the couple who climbed Acropolis with us in tow. They are going to split the charter bus to Launceston with us.

The walking is still great by South Australian standards, but by Tasmanian standards it's probably not the highlight of the track from here south to Cynthia Bay. We make fairly good time, although it's humid and uncomfortable and one member of our group has a sore achilles.

Cynthia Bay appears in the sunshine and is a welcome sight. Last time, we arrived late on Sunday afternoon and the place was deserted – we simply got in our car and drove off. This time we get a chance to relax and talk about our journey. We pay for a shower down the road at the accommodation, which while a bit run down and dirty, does the job and most importantly, has unending, scalding hot water and soap.

We return back to the cafe for lunch. While it is a nice change, the food and atmosphere is nowhere near as good as the Derwent Bridge pub. Our bus driver (Helen, from Tiger Wilderness) is on-time and we sleep during the long drive back to Launceston, and two short flights to Adelaide.

Reverse Ronny Creek

Waterfall Valley from Barn Track

Misty Will

Standing Water

Blue Sky Windermere

Last edited by South_Aussie_Hiker on Fri 01 Mar, 2013 1:33 pm, edited 2 times in total.

[South_Aussie_Hiker]

Across The Plains

Pelion West Reflections

Frog Flats

Green

Oakleigh From Pelion Hut

Last edited by South_Aussie_Hiker on Sat 02 Feb, 2013 3:49 pm, edited 1 time in total.

[South_Aussie_Hiker]

Pelion West From Oakleigh

Ossa Slowly Clearing

Canyon Below Falls

Wet Feet

Geryon From Acropolis

Last edited by South_Aussie_Hiker on Sat 02 Feb, 2013 3:42 pm, edited 1 time in total.

[South_Aussie_Hiker]

The Plains

Ida Weather Brewing

Olympus on Ida

South From Echo Point

Fiery Sunset on Ida

SORRY ABOUT THE DELAYS GETTING PHOTOS UP. Firstly, my laptop power supply died and have been waiting for a replacement. Secondly, working with two kids under 18 months has been unrelenting. Thirdly, it's just a lot of time to get a trip report like this written and formatted out with photos.

However, I can highly recommend irfanview (freeware) to resize photos for bushwalk.com's 3MB limit. It does batch conversions which saved me a lot of trouble.

Last edited by South_Aussie_Hiker on Sat 02 Feb, 2013 3:58 pm, edited 2 times in total.

[Strider]

Why not just edit the original post and add the photo's?

Anyway sounds like you had a great time and managed to have an enjoyable trip despite the efforts of a select few morons. I do wonder whether it was 2013 that you did this trip though, and not 2012?

[ULWalkingPhil]

Just reading how that bus driver treated you and broke your belt buckle gets me fuming. If I was on that bus, he would of copped an ear full from me.

He should be reported, people like that should not have jobs working in such environments, and the nerve to call you idiots for not taking spare shoe laces. I dont know how you sat on that bus and not said anything back.

[South_Aussie_Hiker]

Hi Strider.

I don't have the photos hosted anywhere externally, and the site only allows a maximum of 5 photo uploads per post. I wanted to post about 20 photos and keep the thread in a logical order. Have seen others here use this technique... if the admin don't like it, then I'm happy to remove them.

The trip was definitely 2012 (since it's not Feb 2013 yet)! I've just been terribly slack editing/submitting it since I wrote it about 10 months ago.

Just reading how that bus driver treated you and broke your belt buckle gets me fuming. If I was on that bus, he would of copped an ear full from me.

He should be reported, people like that should not have jobs working in such environments, and the nerve to call you idiots for not taking spare shoe laces. I dont know how you sat on that bus and not said anything back.

I know. The guy was a right pig, and it took every ounce of diplomacy in me not to give it back. Perhaps his attitude was highlighted moreso because everyone else in the Tasmanian tourism industry is so friendly. We actually had spare guy lines, for things like broken shoelaces or temporary repairs. I just wasn't going to tell him that because he was being such a tool. He certainly needs a new job. If my job made me that angry with the world, I'd simply resign. Hopefully Parks have moved him on.

The ranger at Bert Nichols was also a loose cannon, and definitely upset some people - reducing them to tears because they hadn't booked the ferry in advance (WT *$&#??) Since when has THAT changed?

Oh well, two minor run-ins with idiots won't detract from what was an awesome trip.

[ULWalkingPhil]

Wow. Great trip report, I just finished reading the rest of your trip report. But I have to say after reading your trip report on the crowd, snoring etc, I'm not so keen doing this walk during the peak season or should I say silly season, think Ill do this one during the off season.

[Strider]

Hi Strider.

I don't have the photos hosted anywhere externally, and the site only allows a maximum of 5 photo uploads per post. I wanted to post about 20 photos and keep the thread in a logical order. Have seen others here use this technique... if the admin don't like it, then I'm happy to remove them.

The trip was definitely 2012 (since it's not Feb 2013 yet)! I've just been terribly slack editing/submitting it since I wrote it about 10 months ago.

Makes sense. I always wondered the reasoning behind the technique!

And I read it as January

[Strider]

Wow. Great trip report, I just finished reading the rest of your trip report. But I have to say after reading your trip report on the crowd, snoring etc, I'm not so keen doing this walk during the peak season or should I say silly season, think Ill do this one during the off season.

Solution = take your new Duomid

[ULWalkingPhil]

Wow. Great trip report, I just finished reading the rest of your trip report. But I have to say after reading your trip report on the crowd, snoring etc, I'm not so keen doing this walk during the peak season or should I say silly season, think Ill do this one during the off season.

Solution = take your new Duomid

I will certainly be doing that, but I read that the campsites full by the time they got into camp, I don't want to rush the walks each day, just so I make sure I get a place to setup shelter. Ill wait till I completed the Larapinta, than I might head of for the Overland in Late September, before the fees kick in, than again probably heaps of others have the same idea.

[South_Aussie_Hiker]

Wow. Great trip report, I just finished reading the rest of your trip report. But I have to say after reading your trip report on the crowd, snoring etc, I'm not so keen doing this walk during the peak season or should I say silly season, think Ill do this one during the off season.

Mate, don't let my rants put you off. I've found since turning 30, I'm suddenly a whole lot less tolerant of people without a brain or without manners. The majority of other walkers are great.

I've always been a big fan of staying in the huts, because I like to socialise over a game of cards - find out where people are from, what they do, why they're walking, etc. etc. It is actually one of the things I look back on when I am remembering how much I enjoyed a trip. Just have a tent incase

[philm]

Great trip report - just shows that although you have done the Overland before it always has something to offer. It is good to see the track in the different weather conditions and sounds like you are starting to prefer the tent rather than the huts!

In early March we are walking from Lake St Clare to WoJ over the Traveller range. Really looking forward to the trip and your report was a great inspiration.

[Nick S]

Good report mate. You really seemed to enjoy the change of pace and getting away from the city.
Sorry you had to put up with the aggressive park ranger, that sort of thing would really put me off. But you're right, the thing I love about the OT is the range of interesting people you can meet in the huts.

[north-north-west]

One lovely lady and her mum from Albury say they are planning to jump on the ferry at some stage. When they tell him they don't have a booking, he launches into a tirade. Apparently they MUST have made a booking in advance, and won't get on if they haven't, and this and that...

Quite apart from anything else, this simply isn't true. If there is room, they'll take anyone who turns up when they're there.
I happened to lob in at Echo Point just as they were dropping of a young couple who were walking back to Cynthia Bay, and asked if there was room - they had three free spots, so I got a ride (which I wouldn't have if I'd stopped at Narcissus, as there were others there before me).

[South_Aussie_Hiker]

Hi north-north-west.

I think everyone other than this ranger knew the deal with the ferry! If confirmed bookings were required, why would they have a radio at Narcissus hut??!!?!

I have received a PM about this individual recently, indicating he was a brand new ranger and has since pulled his head in. Let's hope so!

I really need to get the photos up. Sigh.

[Overlandman]

I agree with the excellent report, great read.
Sorry to hear about Maxwells Driver, Dennis (owner) is a legend,. Also for the park rangers attitude. Good to hear that the volunteer hut warden at Waterfall Valley was helpful.
Mt Oakleigh is one of my favourite spots, there are walkers who get to the trig point and head back down, not realising the views from the dolerite columns.
If you have walked the Overland track North to South, it is worthwile walking South to North prior too, or after the booking season.
It adds a different perspective to the walk, some positives are, you have made it to Lake St Clair, caught the ferry, easy walk on the first day with a full pack, with the sun in your face (weather permitting) as you head North, different mountain views, meeting new walkers each night at the huts, free shower behind Waldhiem, more transport options at the end of the walk at Cradle Valley.
Regards Overlandman

[Nuts]

If you are talking about the regular shuttle service SAH it is McDermotts Coaches (not Dennis Maxwell) http://www.mcdermotts.com.au/cradle_mountain.htm

[South_Aussie_Hiker]

Photos now up