Never too old to go walking

This is my Mum, Joyce Jones. She's in her nineties.

Back in the 1970s she and a group of friends arranged to go bushwalking together every second Tuesday, and for nearly forty years they have continued meeting. There has never been an organisational structure; no membership fees or committee meetings. At the end of each walk they decide where to go in a fortnight's time, where to meet, at what time. Anyone is welcome to bring friends,

the index

Over the years people have come and gone, and now Mum's the only remaining member of the original group. Every walk they have done has been meticulously recorded - where they went, how long it took, who attended.


There are 224 walks from the beginning of 1978 to the middle of 1989 recorded in the white exercise book; the blue one, "Book no. 3" records walks nos. 427 - 621, beginning at the start of 1999. I haven't been able to get hold of the current diary, so I don't know what number today's walk was.

on August 28 1979 the group climbed Cathedral Rock

Today the group had decided to visit the historic Ida Bay Railway at Lune River and walk out towards Southport Lagoon. Mum enlisted my services as driver. I must admit, herding five elderly bush walkers, three of whom are deaf and one practically blind, had its moments, but we arrived in time for the essential "elevenses" before clambering on board for our seven km journey to Deep Hole.

I love the Ida Bay Railway. It is a lovely clunky, rattling crawl through the bush; at the right time of year the wildflowers are magnificent. Today wasn't quite the right time of year, but the weather was perfect and a great flock of black swans was feeding in the bay.

The railway is also a bit quiet at this time of year, so they were running only one more trip today; this meant we had only two hours for a walk. So off we went towards Southport Lagoon.

Forty years ago my companions were striding out along the South Coast track and scrambling up and down mountains, but time has taken its toll. We ambled along at a leisurely pace, listening to birds and admiring the scenery and the party nagged each other about putting on hats and doing up shoelaces and carrying bags and jumpers in more sensible and convenient ways.

After an hour, we could see Southport Lagoon in the distance but we had a train to catch. An obligatory lunch break, then a slightly quicker return to Deep Hole as it's downhill and the scenery had already been admired. A very young and foolish marsupial, confused by our presence, posed for its photograph along the way.

We had a few minutes' wait at Deep Hole, a chance to stroll along the embankment that once led to a long jetty where limestone was loaded onto ships for transport to Electrona. Then back to Lune River on our train, accompanied by a large pod of dolphins frolicking alongside us in Major Honors Bay. Magic!

An icecream in the sunshine finished the day off nicely.

Mum has gone home to write up the Walks Diary.

Here are the photos.

fortification before the journey

the tramway runs alongside Jagers Bay on its way to Deep Hole

the track to Southport Lagoon

another essential ritual - lunch

the photographer

the subject

our ride home

Deep Hole Bay, Elliot Beach

This is a video I posted a couple of years ago about the Ida Bay Tramway:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lj3RMY_6OEo



The weather wasn't as nice on that occasion.

Ups and Downs on the Peninsula

Some photos of a recent walk on the Tasman Peninsula to Salters Point, returning via Curio Bay.

reaching the lookout above Tunnel Bay

Tunnel Bay and Shipstern Bluff 

as above - ten minutes later as a sea mist rolled in

Salters Point

 This is an image from Google Map - it's the far side of Salters Point, beyond what you can see in the photo above.

the obligatory photograph

somehow a photograph completely fails to reproduce
 the sense of awe. It's a scary place.

it's a long way down to the water

impossible to photograph this blowhole - it's very, very
deep - but not very wide

So where did YOU have lunch today?

moving right along the coast

we went down

and up

down again

and up again . . . 

After that the track continues on, winding along the coast through dense, prickly scrub, up over what seemed an interminable hill and eventually back on to the forestry road where we'd parked our cars. It's about a six and a half hour walk.

Communing with the inner Paleo

Once upon a time people couldn't go into Kmart and come out with various bits of technology essential to comfortable living. I'm not only talking about the latest labour-saving kitchen gadget, no. Just imagine life without needles, buttons, knives, hairpins, string, sewing thread, fish hooks, woven fabric, combs . . .

I've just spent a very enjoyable weekend with Iris and Rita, a pair of enthusiastic young students of traditional crafts who are currently in Tasmania teaching a series of  workshops in ancient skills. This weekend was Working with Bone. Vegans and those of delicate sensibilities might like to go off and read something else at this point.

Ten eager participants turned up at the studio clutching standard workshop safety gear – ear, eye and breathing protection – and an assortment of lethal-looking knives. Our tutors had tracked down an abattoir that processes venison, and a pile of dismembered deer legs was laid out on the table when we arrived.

Our first task was to skin them, separating out the main sinews, peg out the skins for drying and clean the bones. Having cut up and otherwise processed a variety of livestock over the years, I had no problems at all with this phase. Neither did any of the other workshop participants – all of whom were mature, no-nonsense women from various different craft backgrounds. 

Work in progress: a couple of pieces of skin, bone ready for trimming and cleaning, pieces of sinew to be used later as sewing thread, hooves that can be cleaned and used for a variety of decorative purposes, a few pieces of bone trimmed to length and the tools I used. Converting that entire table-full of deer-bits into craft materials took all the first day.

We returned next morning and set to with fretsaws, hacksaws, files, drills and sanders to create little masterpieces. These are some of the things our tutors had made as examples and inspiration. I made a whistle similar to these from a mutton bone many years ago; it didn't work very well, but I thought it was OK for a first try. Now I know how to do it, I'll tackle some more bits and pieces just for fun in between all my other busy-nesses.

Meanwhile, I made the little knife at the top of the page; it might not look much, but it took a lot of work scraping, filing and sanding to get a nice shape and a satisfyingly sharp edge to it. And I had modern tools. What if I'd had to start out by chipping a few good, sharp bits of flint to work with before I even started? Not to mention having to go out and hunt my beast . . . Hooray for Bunnings, say I.

By the way, if you think you'd like to do one of these workshops, you can contact Nanna at Studio Zona: nanna@nannabayer.com or phone 047 591 8259.

Into the Lion's Den

Mt Field National Park is awesome. There are some terrific walking tracks and it includes some of my absolutely favourite places – Russell Falls, the Tarn Shelf, Twilight Tarn, Mt Field East. Today I added another one to my list – the Lion's Den. 

 Here is a photograph that I took on another occasion of the Rodway Range and Tarn Shelf from somewhere near the Seal Lookout .

And here is a map.

https://www.tasmap.tas.gov.au/upload/images/Samples/NPFIELD.jpg

Today's walk was the circuit from the Lake Dobson carpark, along the Tarn Shelf to Newdegate Tarn, lunch on The Watcher, then return on the K Col track along the top of the Rodways. You need to be reasonably fit, with a good sense of balance and a head for heights.

A nice stroll along the Tarn Shelf

with pauses to admire delicate alpine flowers (this one is barely five cm high).

From Newdegate Tarn a steep, rocky climb to the Newdegate Pass and across high moors towards The Watcher. Mt Field West in the distance, left.

Duckboarding is nice for keeping the feet dry. That's The Watcher, the pile of rocks in the middle distance. Naturalist Peak(left) and Mt Field West behind it.

 Approaching The Watcher - and yes, you do have to climb over all those rocks.

One of those little dots on the top is a member of our party

The view from the top is worth the effort. That's the Florentine Valley down there, with the Denison Range behind it.

Where did YOU have lunch today?

Moving right along . . . that's The Watcher, that lumpy bit back there.

Pause for a drink and a breather before tackling rather a lot of rocks.

On top of the Rodway Range we discover a delightful alpine garden overlooking the Tarn Shelf and a tiny glimpse of Lake Webster (right). Another brief rest, then oh look – some more rocks!

After rock-hopping along the top of the Rodway Range we come to the really good bit.

Entering the Lion's Den. Photographs really don't catch the chaotic grandeur of this circle of huge tumbled columns. You really have to be there. Yes, that's snow over there.  

And leaving the Den – same bit of snow

We might be out of the Lion's Den, but there is plenty of anti-pedestrian vegetation between the boulders. And a tiny glimpse of the top of Mt Bridges between the rocks in the centre of the picture.

At last – a clear path, and off in the distance oh joy! Duckboarding! But there's some way to go yet, and a few more boulders to negotiate.

The top of the Rodway ski tow; that may be Lake Belcher in the distance.

Lake Webster from the top of the ski tow

Track junction – the end of the Rodway Range in the background.

Just a few kilometres of easy walking back to the carpark from here. I've discovered muscles I'd forgotten I had. And they're all aching. A day's walking doesn't get much better than this.

The Lion's Den definitely requires a return visit. Next time I'll go up from this end, rather than making the full circuit. Meanwhile, a long, hot bath with lots of bubbly stuff in it then bed.