Old directions sign, Dixons Kingdom

Text and photosRob Wildman

Walkers: Rob Wildman (leader), Chris Smith, Laura Ruiz Espinosa and Peter Laffan

Transport: Kirsten Baker and the old Nissan

Dates: 2-9 February 2024 inclusive

As the plane wiggled and jostled on its descent to Launceston airport, fighting with a strong westerly, I still remained optimistic of being able to do our walk in the Frankland Range. We were met by our fifth member of the group, Kirsten, who had pulled out of the walk with hip issues, but had decided to become our local transport to the start and the pick up at the end. We were ever so grateful of this generous offer and thought it would be a simple affair of one drop and one pickup; not so.

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Despite the persistent wind, the clouds had parted and we saw blue skies everywhere. But then we were still in the northern part of Tasmania and we knew this was not a reliable indication of the southern part, with its bruising westerly storms which come in at a moment’s notice.

As we approached the summit of the range which leads into the valley containing Lake Pedder, three and a half hours after leaving Launceston, the first flurries of rain started. Approaching Strathgordon on the eastern side of the lake - the main town for supporting all the hydro dams in the area - we decided to pull into a small national park layover on the shore of the lake, Teds Beach. This had a shelter shed and, amazingly, dozens of big vans, either glued to the back of 4WDs or on trailers, and they had the same idea as us in hiding from the terrible weather.

We just looked at the range we were intending to climb on the other side of the lake; totally covered in cloud and a howling gale now rushing down the valley and thumping into our little shelter. We were worried but

optimistic – aren’t we all when faced with mounting evidence that what you are about to undertake is, basically, just plain wrong.

The next morning’s conference, with everyone standing around with glum faces, confirmed what we had all individually concluded. After calling some friends who were local bushwalkers, we piled into the transport and headed four hours north. So yes, we had a plan B, officer! We were now on our way to the start of Higgs Track which is just 28 kilometres from Deloraine. There wasn’t a feeling of disappointment like I expected, as we just wanted a decent walk, and it really didn’t matter where it was. Even though we had allowed an extra two days for bad weather, the forecast on the Frankland Range had predicted high winds, cloud and in a couple of days, a complete dump of rain.

Frankland Range

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Day 1: Higgs Track to Lady Lake Hut, 3 km, 1.5 hours

The ascent to the top of the Western Tiers on the Higgs Track is the complete opposite of what we were experiencing in the south west. The forest we glided through was serene, a brook completing the almost fairy tale scene; moss-covered rainforest intermingling with pines and gums at lower levels and a pleasant, warm envelope of a track to follow to the top. At the top of this climb the forest disappears and you break through onto a small boggy flat which contains Lady Lake. A short walk from the top and you are standing in front of one of the most picturesque huts I’ve ever seen. It has all the right proportions, nestled in under the thick scrub which climbs with the hill behind it. The hut even has a little water tank – so convenient! We arrived early and decided this was a nice reward for us enduring a four hour drive to the Franklands and another four hours to Higgs Track, traversing the country from north to south and back. We had to thank our driver, Kirsten, for making such a huge effort though.

The hut faces a carpeted low valley with a stream dawdling through it. After following it for a hundred metres, the small creek immediately drops down cliff faces and finally into the pastoralised open plains behind Deloraine.

Lady Lake Hut

Looking east from Lady Lake Hut

Rob, Laura, Peter and Chris

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Day 2: Lady Lake Hut to 7 km past Ironstone Hut, 14 km, 7.5 hours

Having had a great night’s sleep on the included cushioned mattresses (wow!), we then started into our eight day adventure; following the Higgs Track over the first long hill, past Westons Lake (with a great campsite) and then passing through a tight valley into the area which contained Lake Nameless and Ironstone Hut, arriving there in time for lunch. There was still a very cool breeze coming in from the west so we tucked down into the sunny eastern wall.

According to Chapman, the next 15 kilometres are "poorly cairned" and we were expecting to spend at least two nights on the plains. The whole area is a former glacial plain in which thousands of lakes have been left in all the oddest of places. The route we were trying to follow was based on Ritters Track, named after a cattle owner who led his herd this way every year to the green pastures of the Walls of Jerusalem (WOJ). Peter had actually walked this route some five or six years earlier so we felt confident – dare I say it, a bit cocky – about finding the route.

So I sent Peter ahead and we immediately took the wrong set of cairns – a route had been established which led straight up to the summit of Forty Lakes Peak behind the hut.

On Higgs Track near Lady Lake Hut

Morning at Lady Lake Hut

Camp spot on Westons Lake

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Old Pencil Pine by Westons Lake

Breaking camp on day 3

“Pete, shouldn’t we be going around the hill and not over it?” I queried. Obviously not wanting to backtrack – who ever wants to backtrack? - we drove on and headed down over the other side toward where we thought the cairned route would have taken us. And success! Bolstered now with a sign of where we should have been, we continued to pick off cairn after cairn as it casually followed a gentle sloping creek towards the end of the first big lake. There was even a set of cairns placed on two big rocks together like guiding harbour lights for a ship.

When we got to the other side of the lake still heading south, I recalled Chapman’s warning: “beware another cairned route which heads south to Pillans Lake”. Were we on this instead of the Ritters Track? We had no idea so, reluctantly, we reverted to using the GPS to bring us back in line with a drawn route which basically went south-west all the way to Zion Gate under Mount Jerusalem. This would have to be our guide and we would surely come across some cairns as we went, wouldn’t we?

So the slog began. Up little hills with almost impenetrable scrub and around boggy swamps with small tarns, all the while trying to see the mythical cairns. After several hours, we climbed a long, open hill to give us relief

from the scrub around the watered areas. In the distance we saw … another hill. But in between lay a most tranquil small tarn with amazingly some adjacent cleared and grassed areas. This was very rare in this country. By now energy was low and it was getting on to about 4.30 pm so we pitched our first night’s camp, soaked our toes in the cool water, prepared the mushroom risotto for dinner and collapsed into a warm tent – even before the daylight was gone!

Day 3: 7 km past Ironstone Hut to Central Plateau, 10 km, 7 hours

Climbing the small hills on this route brought some genuine surprises; as we crested what we thought was the summit, another small tarn would appear. This phenomenon was repeated all through this intriguing country. So many places where the water remained meant that these little lakes didn’t drain at all but maintained their level, probably even through summer as well.

At some point we dropped down to the shore of a named lake, Lake Gwendy. Not 50 metres from the shore was a conical built rock shelter which clearly was a lone fisherman’s shelter, now collapsing with age. These lakes are quite often occupied by keen fishing people bent on spending some time alone living off their

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Lake Nutting

catch. The edge of Lake Gwendy came with a small enticing camping area and astoundingly, a walkable track around the shore – a contrast to what we had seen so far. But the pad disappeared soon after and we found ourselves passing through the picturesque Pencil Pine Tarn, stopping for lunch on the way.

Our next goal was a set of lakes called the Long Tarns. This was a low lying streak of water which went right across the plain – finding a crossing point would be interesting as it is nearly impossible to see a break in the water anywhere along it. We deviated from our intended route and ended up standing on a cliff top overlooking a water course which extended both left and right into the distance. There appeared to be a protuding piece of land which came close to the other side so we bashed our way toward it. Fortuitously, it led to a small gap separating the long lakes where we knew we were going to get wet feet. At one point Laura slipped, Pete grabbed her and then he started to slip so I grabbed him, all of us straining to avoid being dragged in, laughing as we collapsed together in a heap. This definitely wasn’t Mr Ritter’s route but it was fine by us all the same.

An hour later we were standing on a long ridge overlooking Lake Nutting, nearing the end of the off track section. In the distance

Chris, Peter and Laura resting just past Long Tarns

Tarn at camp spot on night 3

Chris overlooking Lake Gwendy

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loomed the magnificent Mount Jerusalem, our destination. A large pencil pine forest occupied the western shore and for a long minute we contemplated charging down to the lake shore hoping that there would be an edge track and a possible camp area. Instead, we decided to stay the night nestled alongside a beautiful little tarn where we washed and made ourselves comfortable for the night.

Day 4: Central Plateau to Lake Ball, 12.6 km, 7 hours

Enthusiastically, next morning we bounded down to the lake, our hopes all up for a swift stroll around the lake. The scrub started just as we entered the forest and got so thick at times we were just falling into it for some comic relief. Looking back at the GPS track we generated here looked like we must have been drunk with the weaving path, and it took some time before we dropped onto a high, flat and grassy section which spelled the end of the scrub.

The rest of the walk to Zion Gate, where we knew we would meet a track of sorts (from a previous walk of mine), was just up and over the last remaining knolls weaving through the sometimes thick vegetation. We had now made it through the whole Central Plateau without seeing a single cairn and we weren’t going to start looking for them now.

The change in the landscape was now startling as we wandered down to the old Dixons Kingdom Hut through glades of grass and pencil pine, disturbing the first of four tiger snakes we saw on the walk. The authorities have, I think, rightly banned camping in this area now – when I was here several years before there were people everywhere. They have now built platforms for something like 25 tents complete with toilets and a camp kitchen (open top). The old walking track to Damascus Gate has now been diverted to pass through the new tent platform area, a little disappointing but understandable. Parks have taken an approach which restricts walkers in this area by insisting on booking the camp sites at the WOJ and at the same time providing what you would imagine to be enough camping facilities for big weekends.

Looking down toward Lake Salome from Damascus Gate

Dixons Kingdom Hut

Dixons Kingdom

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We took up Peter’s offer to mind the packs while the rest of us took an hour to head up to Damascus Gate and back, passing through the "little village" of tent platforms on the way. Damascus Gate is a special place in the Walls and it was important for the others to be able to peer down into the vale of lakes and tended fields for the first time.

We had no intention of staying here however, especially after our last two glorious overnight stops under the open skies on the plateau, and so headed down the new track to Lake Ball. Again, this new track has been necessary because the old track forced you to cross waterlogged plains and could get nasty. We didn’t bother going all the way to Lake Ball Hut deep in the forest, and pitched instead on the small grassy knolls at the end of the button grass plains on the lake shore. A lone walker came hurtling through on his way to his booked site at Dixons; he was intent on completing the circular track in one weekend so he had places to go!

Day 5: Lake Ball to Lake Meston, 13 km, 6.5 hours

Waking to frost and ice all over the tents and a low mist on the lake surface, confirming why it felt so cold in the night, we plodded our way down the track towards Lake Adelaide. Not having to think about navigation any more,

Mist on Lake Ball

Looking back from the button grass meadow on Lake Ball to the Wailing Wall and Halls Buttress

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we just enjoyed the scenery on the route down; lots of fagus, which would have been something to see in a few months from now and skipping past Lake Ball Hut snuggled deep in the forest like a hand in a glove. Somehow, simply following a track and not finding it yourself seems to lose something in the experience – like a flat beer, tastes like the real thing but no fizz. You don’t have to train your eyes to every detail of the landscape or the vegetation and it becomes more about time and kilometres covered than where you are right now.

Lake Adelaide edge track was longish and left us finally at the Lake Meston Hut, after having surveyed the camping spots at the south end of Lake Adelaide and the north end of Lake Meston, both excellent places to stay. Time enough for a wash and a chatty dinner on the comfortable furniture provided (logs).

Day 6: Lake Meston to Junction Lake, 5.4 km, 2 hours

By now we were making plans to fill the last few days and we had all sorts of options available. As it was, we went on to climb Mount Rogoona for some fine views over the lakes to the north and somewhere out west was the Overland Track, and then pushed on to Junction Lake. On the way back from the climb we met a young guy who told us he was starving and hightailing it out to somewhere

View from Mt Rogoona over Lake Poa and Lake Louisa

Lake Meston Hut

Cascade below Clarke Falls

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he could get a decent meal. I think his fishing net and rod were indicative of his desires for a naturally fuelled stay which didn’t quite work out, sadly for him.

At Junction Lake, it was still early afternoon, so we did the loop down to the torrent that is Clarke Falls and back, touching the edges of the Never Never, and then over to the hermit-like Junction Lake Hut. This has to be one of the most beautiful huts in this whole area, hidden and mysterious, nestled just above the Mersey River, like something from a fairy tale. Entering it is like walking into a sacred place where history is oozing from the walls.

Day 7: Junction Lake to Grail Falls, 7.7 km, 3.5 hours

The trail up to Grail Falls from Junction Lake is also very special, passing through grassy creek beds, mossy rainforest sections, open sclerophyll forests and yes, some bogs. When you have been taken a hundred metres above Cloister Lagoon and you then sidle the edge of a lovely high tarn, it makes this a marvellous and scenic path. Arriving at the falls, we scrambled up the short, sharp ascent to the top and then followed the gurgling alpine stream up to Chalice Lake – yes all

Peter, Chris and Laura on top of Grail Falls

Cloister Lagoon

Waterless tarn on Moses Creek Track

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the geographical significant places have place names with a religious theme, including Convent Hill. Here I showed the others the tiny square of possible camping on the shore of Chalice Lake and we viewed the mountains around us: Cathedral Mount, Twin Spires and Bishop Peak before heading back for our last dinner at the foot of the falls.

Day 8: Grail Falls to Moses Creek car park, 5 km, 3 hours

The final day involved a splendid stretch of Tasmanian forest from just after leaving Grail Falls to the picturesque Jacksons Creek, complete with large oyster fungus clinging doggedly to the pines along the route. You notice the drop in height here by the plethora of tree ferns which fall across the path like curtains to a stage. After crossing on the sturdy steel swing bridge over Jacksons Creek, you know you are almost there as the track turns into the old road and you finally reach the wash down station just on the edge of the turning circle at the end of the Mersey Valley road.

We had arranged to meet our lovely transport at this car park at noon and when we arrived an hour early, I offered to cook up my spare meal, Penang curry and rice, for all to enjoy or criticise. They were too embarrassed to complain.

It is so rare to be able to do a walk covering only 83 kilometres over eight and a half days and not have to retrace your steps. We’d all done some sections of this route at some time in the past, except Chris who had never been to Tasmania. But this was a special trip for her as this was my thanks to her for taking care of our shared mother over many years.

I would have to say that the open plains of the thousand lakes we covered in the first few days was quite special and a surprisingly enjoyable way into the Walls, with unexpected camp sites right next to crystal clear tarns. And while I have been through the Junction Lake area on previous occasions, it was rewarding to see the joy others got out of seeing it for the first time.

On Moses Creek Track

Rob and Chris

Celebratory dinner

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