The Overland Track
Posted on Wednesday, December 16th, 2009
(The author, at far left, with friends Becca, Jamie and Pat at the end of the Track.)
Tasmania was never at the top of the list of places I want to explore. To be honest, before my good friend Jamie moved there I had never really thought twice about it. Of course I had seen the Tasmanian Devil on Saturday morning cartoons and was pretty sure it existed in real life. However, I never considered where Tasmania was geographically located. In case you are wondering, Tasmania is an Australian island and state, located approximately 150 miles from the southeastern tip of Australia. Tasmania allegedly drifted away from the mainland about 10,000 years ago and is the only area that the Tasmanian Devil can be found in the wild.
With the main incentive to see a very good friend, a bit of spare time on my hands, and a nearly free plane ticket, I started to throw around the idea of traveling to Tasmania. Once my friend Becca was on board it was a done deal; we were going “down under” and maybe if we were lucky we would see a devil.
Five flights and 36 hours later, we landed in Hobart, the largest city in Tasmania, population approximately 215,000. We were welcomed with cold winds, mist, and what seemed like winter. This was not the sunny skies we witnessed in Sydney; this was the weather we left behind in the Northwest.
(The Moorlands and Barn Bluff in the distance.)
The first item on our agenda was to tackle the Overland Track, a 65-kilometer “bush walk” through World Heritage-listed wilderness in central Tasmania. Bush walking is very hip in Australia, and the Overland Track was known to be the best track in all of the country. Though I would not call myself an avid backpacker or bush walker, I thought this would be an excellent opportunity to experience a remote area of Tasmania. We were a little wary of the potential rainfall we might encounter, but decided to pack our rain gear and hope for the best.
Upon arriving at the northern end of Cradle Mountain-Lake St. Clair National Park, the starting point of the bush walk, we were greeted by a wombat (a short-legged, stout, nocturnal, furry marsupial) and rain. It was our first wombat sighting and it was quite exciting; it did not resemble any animal I had ever seen. The rain was less than thrilling, but managed to come to a halt by morning. With the sun shining on our faces, we repacked out backpacks and encountered our first pademelon (the smallest of the kangaroos) and its tiny joey. Though tentative, it was clearly accustomed to people, similar to deer in our area.
With heavy backpacks full of wine, chocolate and even frozen salmon, we started our journey on the Overland Track. We immediately began to ascend out of the valley and into the alpine highlands. Much of trail was on constructed boardwalks. Which I thought was a bit strange at first, but after seeing the marsh that the trail was built on, it made sense to protect the alpine vegetation. The scenery reminded me of the tundra in Alaska, but also resembled something out of a Dr. Seuss book. The plants looked like dormant creatures that could start moving at any second.
(The descent from Cradle Mountain.)
We dropped our packs and scrambled over rocks and snow up Cradle Mountain. From the top of the Cradle Mountain, the scenery was impressive. There were endless eucalypt valleys carved in the plateau, craggy dolomite mountains, and pencil pines scattered about. Nothing was bright; the clouds were dark and the landscape had very muted, subtle colors. It was somewhat of a mystical, ancient-looking land. I almost expected to see a dinosaur come bounding out of one of the valleys.
The first evening we learned about the tenacity of the furry-tailed possum. Shortly after falling asleep, I heard something making quite a large racket trying get into the backpacks. Being blind as a bat without my contacts, I could not see a thing outside of tent. In my haze, I thought there might be a bear or a large animal looking for food (ridiculous thought, considering there are no bears in Tasmania). I awoke Becca, frantic. She opened the tent to find a medium-sized animal with a large bushy tail and two beady eyes staring at us from about five feet away. We let out girly yelps, and quickly zipped up the tents. After about 30 seconds, we came to our senses and realized it must be a relative of the possums we see in our backyards at home. We tried to shoo it away, but it was not budging. We started lobbing shoes and flip-flops, and it barely flinched. Finally – BINGO – we hit it! It retreated, only to return a few seconds later. That’s when we pulled out the boot and put some power behind it. The boot worked! We retrieved our bags, laughing about what wimps we were, while he watched us from behind a tree. From then on, we slept with our packs.
(The very common wallaby.)
Clearly, I cannot revisit our entire trek in this single entry. But, it was a great adventure shared with my very best friends and numerous wallabies (medium-sized kangaroos). Every day was completely different. We walked across moorlands and through temperate rainforests, skinny-dipped in icy blue lakes, witnessed massive waterfalls, and managed to get wet and muddy. We encountered sun, sleeting ice, torrential downpours and wind that could almost knock you over. Every day we saw or heard new animals: spiky ones, fuzzy ones, shimmering ones, and birds with calls that made you laugh. Yet, we never did see a dinosaur or a devil!
Mariah McPherson is an environmental engineer and Cloudveil Inspired Mountain Ambassador.
