So, I’m watching episode 7 of House on Netflix, fiddling with my laptop and staring at the ABW website walks page.

Packrafting in Tasmania. End of March this looks good. TREVOR oh no! That can’t be good.

Hit the View button, the red JOIN THIS ACTIVITY button is staring at me, voices in my head say no don’t do it, press it, no don’t do it, you know he’s crazy, don’t do it.

5:15 pm March 5^th, 2025, and I’m stepping off flight QF 2465 at Hobart airport, Trevor and I are walking towards the luggage carousel.

So the original plan of packrafting the Gordon river was put aside around a week before we got there, Trevor had looked into it as he does, and it was found the water level wasn’t high enough for us get a good paddle down, there would have been too many portages around fallen trees and debris. Bonus was our packs were 2-3 kg lighter.

Richard has been in Tasmania for a few weeks completing the Western Arthurs Walk and we’re to meet him at our accommodation in about 30 minutes.

As it turns out the Alabama Hotel is fantastic and sitting on the balcony drinking Paloma cocktails is a must.

And so caused a foggy start to an 11 day walk through the central Tasmanian Highlands from Lake St Clair along the King William Ranges and down through the Denison Ranges to an eventual pick-up point somewhere a long way from anywhere else.

Day 1. 7/3 What’s an Abel Trev?

Richard who proved to be half man half greyhound, Trevor just one more hill Jones and myself who was hugely unaware of what lay ahead caught the minibus to Lake St Clair.

The last thing the bus driver muttered was “hope you know what you’re doing” as he shut the sliding door and drove away.

A short road walk onto a dirt track, dropped our packs and diverted off to climb King William I. After a reasonable climb to the top the others commented that just three hours into our trek and I had already completed an Abel, didn’t I feel cocky now, what’s all the fuss about first Abel in 3hrs, it’s a breeze, check me out.

Back down and off to our first camp for the trip, a strange cut out in an old quarry type place, we sat around swapped a few stories, and got to sleep at hikers’ midnight only to be woken by pretend rangers in a Ute asking Richard if he was lighting a fire, at 5am what do you think?  We didn’t ever get to the bottom of that one and didn’t see any more humans until Gordonvale in 9 days’ time.

Day 2. 8/3 It could be worse!

Across Butlers gorge and up Slatters Peak, we really got into the thick scrub including button grass or f^&*$ng button grass as it was often referred to. If you lose your balance and fall while just twisting slightly to one side it’s possible to completely disappear out of sight between two large mounds, we  were quite often restricted to 1km hr progress and I was using muscles in my legs I had never used before, not in 57 years. I lost balance on more than one occasion, Trevor and Richard found this very amusing and I assume there’s quite a trail of photographic evidence to prove it.

This was really challenging and now I really understood what Trevor had been describing in the lead up, prior to this I kind of shrugged my shoulders and said yeah it will be ok. 

But the reality was sinking in very fast. When you have finished laughing and taken that photo could you please help me up.

Day 3. 9/3 Oooops!

A slow start more coffee and a few words of encouragement from Trevor we were off into more button grass and scrub, heading for Restoration Hill, 1km an hour and an inability to straighten your legs set the pace for the coming days.

The views are fantastic up here and any discomfort was quickly wiped away it was as wild as I expected, not only had I now climbed my first 2 Abels, but this was also my first trip to Tasmania everything people had said was true and I was reminded very much of the Welsh countryside.

My thirst for Abels had been quenched, the priority was now surviving the trip unscathed, these two are properly mad and trying to kill me.

Day 4. 10/3 Blood removing parasites

Much the same thick scrub and button grass, a few regular breaks in carefully selected spots as now we had leeches hunting us down. These creatures just sit there on a branch or twig it would seem like forever, and just wait for someone, anyone to pass by so they could catch a lift and drain you of a few mls of blood before dropping off to do who knows what. It must be a glorious day for these lucky few to tell their leechy friends and family of the day they valiantly slid into Richard’s sock. 

All I can imagine is there’s thousands of these things hanging around doing absolutely nothing. After a while the horrendous stories and fear faded, and I started to consider that they aren’t that bad an encounter, after all they don’t hurt or cause any hindrance to our day, the more I considered it I kind of like the little critters. This now leads me to believe they picked up on my fondness and decided to leave me alone and concentrate on Richard who is probably a little lighter by this point due to the removal of a fair amount of blood. Trevor was totally unaffected by these friends of mine or anything on the trail, he really does appear to be totally at home out here.

Day 5.  11/5 Zero vision

Not so much button grass now, it’s forest and thick bush, heavy and slow going, visibility is pretty low and if you don’t keep up it would be so easy to lose sight of each other, at one point I looked down and we were clambering through vegetation and over a creek with a good 5m drop beneath me I stopped momentarily looked down and immediately started to sink, it was enough to get me to scramble on and onto something a little more solid.

My pants were ripped and top-grade Glaziers gloves were showing signs of wear from prickles and sharp objects, one tip I would like to share is take your gloves off before having a wee, thank me later.

Day 6. 12/3 Richard’s pants and a bulldozer

A couple of old airstrips were shown on the maps, and we managed to track them down in a very dilapidated state, us and them. The track between them was non-existent but as we found the second airstrip, we came across an old bulldozer standing solidly and lonely before us.

A few pics and lunch on the airstrip I decided to find out more about the Dozer on our return to Hobart.

Zoom in on Richards Knee but that’s another story.

That night we camped at the Battlement Hill

Back in Hobart I asked around about the old dozer, between the library and locals sending me back and forth with a stroke of luck I ended up bumping into an old bloke that worked for forestry, a lot of them did that by the sounds of it, he had walked the track and the airstrips back in the 80s it was overgrowing then. The best bit was he had done this trying to follow the tracks of a man by the name of Johnstone out of Bothwell who had left Clark dam with the bulldozer in the early 70s chasing gold deposits, he mentioned the Jane River goldfields and a track across the London Plains, pretty sure it was all illegal at the time but he managed to get all the way to where the dozer sits now before a con rod shot through the engine and stopped him and his plan in his tracks.

He told me about an article by Helen Gee written about this endeavour but as to date I haven’t managed to track it down, I’d be keen to hear from anyone with any more information.

Up on the ridgeline we watched our first rain come rolling in from behind us.

Day 7. 13/3 The steepest hill

 We left the Battlement Hill in the morning heading for the saddle between Great Dome and Reeds Peak. We encountered spectacular views all around with fantastic rolling clouds and eventually looked out over Lake Rhona.

Richard had pretty good phone reception and was having a full on conversation with Bruce who was sitting in a coffee shop in Hallett Cove whilst I sweat and puff my way red faced up a 45 degree slope, Richard who is nothing more than strolling along passes me the phone and says “here say hello to Bruce” I hope I wasn’t rude, sorry Bruce.

I found the Yabbie holes interesting, randomly dotted around in any small pools of water, sometimes dried out pools, you would find the small yabbie hole which you can suck water from with a straw.

Day 8. 14/3 Cut grass and a human                    

We woke up in a mist the clouds were that low we couldn’t see each others’ tents, a nice fresh morning we downed camp and headed downhill to Lake Rhona. Quite spectacular scenery and today was the first open track and we could finally stretch our legs and get into a stride, it was quite a feeling to now be able to walk at some pace.

Into an area called Gordonvale it had been settled by an Ernie Bond up to the 1940s this legendary bushman would serve home brew and wallaby stew to bushwalkers, so it was only fitting that we bumped into our first humans for 8 days who promptly presented Richard with a bottle of Jack Daniels. The homestead was long gone but the grounds remain in this tranquil must visit spot with its manicured lawn this site is preserved by the Tasmanian Land Conservancy if you haven’t been to Ernie’s you must go, Lake Rhona and Gordonvale is a favourite walk amongst those in the know.

Day 9. 15/3 The Button Grass Dance

I’m starting to see patterns in the Button grass as I look ahead, maybe squint a little and a path opens up before me, a gentle pace and I can glide along, swift and gentle movement sees me become one with the once feared flora, it really does become a waltz as I shimmy through the tufts, as I’m laughing aloud Trevor and Richard look at me slightly bemused l as I gain ground on them at last. Richard is having none of this and simply steps up a gear and leaves me in his dust but I’m carefree as I crack the code and embrace the buttons that stand before me.

Day 10. 16/3 A fern or two

Theres a bit of moisture in the air today as things have cooled down the forecast was for frost above 1000m so lucky we’re down out of the way at the moment.

Thick forest on either side of the tracks, looking deep inside it sometimes drops away almost into another maybe magical world.

I’ve dropped back as I tend to do and concentrate on my breathing and relax as I’m walking and enjoy the stride, the ability to stretch your legs out in front really is a fantastic feeling after the restrictions from previous days.

Day 11.   17/3 Bitter sweet

The last morning and a very short walk to the pickup, as much as were looking forward to a shower, a steak and cleaning up, it’s over, and it would seem all too quickly. At the end of Sawback track, we were picked up on the Gordon River road near the junction with Scotts Peak road.

When the minibus arrived, we appeared scrambling out of the bushes a little like the French resistance, Trevor and Richard seemed to enjoy surprising the driver, maybe it was a ploy, so he didn’t drive off without us.

Let’s do it all again.

Trevor really does put so much effort into these walks. with his planning and research, if you ever get the opportunity to walk with Trevor or in this part of Tasmania, jump at both.

It’s wild you don’t really know what’s next…

Next article: Wilpena creek’s big pond