We left Strahan around 9.30am and headed for Queenstown and beyond, on a highway of one thousand bends … or so it seems.
Towing a van on such winding terrain calls for 110% driver concentration which, let me tell you, is really difficult to achieve when one is passing through such spectacularly distracting terrain.
I am really glad “Ranndy” and “Canndy” (the pet names for our “tug” and van) measure only 11.10m overall, with “Canndy” taking up just under 6.00m of that. How the owners of those monster 8.00m+ vans, dragged by 5.00m+ tugs, can enjoy driving on such roads is beyond me! There are just so many tight 35kpm, and even tighter 25kpm, bends.
Mind you, fine weather would have made the journey a whole lot more relaxing, but don’t expect too much of that in this region of Tasmania. We are told that Strachan receives 3.00m rainfall annually delivered on 300 of the 365 days of the year! Boy, did those “piners” ever do it tough … wet to the skin almost every minute of the months at a time they spent in the rain forests harvesting the green gold … Huon Pine. We were unlucky enough to strike one of the 300 days, and the wipers on “Ranndy” were blinking more often than human eye-lids.We did manage to get some great shots on the way into Queenstown,
but on exiting the town, the road was so steep, so narrow and so winding it was impossible to find stopping places to safely take pictures. I would so much have loved to get close ups of some of the rock faces only feet away from the passenger’s side of the car. The colours were breathtaking. Quenstown has long been
associated with hillsides that resemble a moonscape. Since a young man I can recall seeing photographs of this region, denuded of top soil and all vegetation by the mining of copper and other precious metals. While the “greenies” may decry the rape of what was once such lush countryside, I for one could not help drinking in the strange stark rawness that now is the countryside surrounding this resource-rich town.
Oh yes … before I forget again … here is a tip. if you are coming to this part of Tasmania, leave your mobile phone at home, unless you have Telstra 3G. While Barbara’s new Garmin is a fantastic piece of equipment, it is absolutely useless here powered by Optus.Our stay in Queenstown was only long enough to shop at one of the two excellent IGA supermarkets there. On a Sunday morning there is not too much activity in old Queenstown.
The much touted and reputedly very good value Galley Museum, even though advertised to open at 12.30, did not ‘til 2.00pm, catering for the influx of tourists on the scenic mountain train trip from Strachan.
So, with lousy weather damping our desire to do walks we might otherwise have done on a sunny day, we moved on. And here’s another tip … if your fuel tank is down a bit at Queenstown, fill up at the Caltex in the centre of town because there are no more fuel stops you can count on being open on a Sunday for quite a way!
From Queenstown the bendy roads continued for many kilometers before finally straightening out somewhat
close to the enormous man-made Lake Burbury. Here we did a left off the main drag to inspect the almost-free ($5 a night) lakeside camping and van grounds.
This is an ideal cheap alternative to normal $25 a night caravan parks for those of us set up with shower-toilets and “gennies”. Trouble is, at this time of year the ground is so sodden it doesn’t make staying here very pleasant at all.
Our visit did provide a moment of black comedy however. After shopping at Queenstown, Barbara had restocked an overhead grocery cupboard, and, for the first time ever, neglected to close the door latch properly. On arrival at Burbury camp site, she opened the van door to be greeted by sticky gherkin spread all over the floor, and the shattered glass jar everywhere. She cleaned up best she could and put the mess into a plastic bag which I duly took to the nearest rubbish bin.
In seconds, an enormous currawong landed on the edge of the bin
and proceeded to dive in to forage for the contents of the bag. His antics were hilarious and at one stage he almost managed to pull the whole plastic bag out of the bin …
no mean feat given the weight of the jar and its spilled contents. His attempts resulted in strips of plastic being ripped from the bag, which he ingested. At this point I had to retrieve the bag lest he suffered harm from swallowing more plastic.
Further down the road we came to Nelson Falls at a time when there was a break in the weather. Here we met up once more with Colleen and Peter Eathers, who had also been our neighbours at the Strahan caravan park. A short walk through unbelievably beautiful rain forest took us to the most spectacular waterfall I have ever seen.
Obviously the recent higher-than-average rainfall contributed to its beauty, and for me, this was the very best eye-candy of the trip to date. Most reluctantly I walked back to “Ranndy”, wishing I could stay close forever to such breathtaking beauty.
I was also salivating at the site of those babbling streams that rushed away from the falls, certain that such waters were harbouring trout just begging me to cast a red tag in their direction. Alas, the weather and a nasty headache that had plagued Barbara all day long, meant such action was impractical.
At this point it is worth making mention of the really functional timber and wire mesh walk-ways the Tasmanian National Parks people have built in most of their rain forest reserves. These guarantee safe comfortable access in always wet conditions.
After leaving Nelson Falls we continued on the Lyell Highway in the direction of Derwent Bridge and were thrilled to see snow on the mountains immediately to our north. We were unable to identify the mountains specifically but suspected they were Mount Alma, Mount Gell and Mount Arrowsmith. Little did we realise the significance of these sitings.
With no caravan park at Derwent Bridge and not wanting to rough it on a “freebie” site because of the bleak icy night expected at a time when my lady was not feeling at all well anyway, we headed the 4k off-road to the Lake St Clair camping and van site.
My first reaction was “Wow … look at this place!” Huge coach, caravan and car parking area leading to massive TNP visitor information centre adjoining a coffee shop big enough to rival the Burnie Makers Workshop.
However, my eye-brows shot up an inch when informed that a powered site was $35 … the most expensive by far we have encountered anywhere we have travelled in this State or Victoria and NSW.
But again because Barbara was by now quite unwell, we really had no choice but to accept.
And guess what … on top of the $35, it was going to cost us $1 each for a coin operated hot shower.
Look, I know we are in a World Heritage Area, but frankly $37 per couple to park on a mud-heap site with no water, no TV reception and an amenities block built in the 1980’s … and showing it … really is a bit rich and I strongly urge all Tasmanian visitors with vans or RV’s to give it a wide berth.
But, tomorrow, a new day dawns!
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