Author Archives: Tasmanian traveller

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About Tasmanian traveller

Through travel, I have experienced the eccentricities of people and their environments around the world. At the same time, I love where I live. So, for people who cannot travel to discover the wonders of my home town, this blog is an attempt to introduce its exoticness. My goal was to walk along both sides of Hobart's Derwent River from the mouth to New Norfolk, and to walk on one or alternating sides of the River between New Norfolk and the source of the River at the southern end of Lake St Clair. The walk was undertaken in stages around my other commitments of my life. Almost all stages of the walk connected with Tasmanian public transport - my intentions was to inspire people, who do not have access to a vehicle, to feel they can replicate the walks. This blog reports on each stage in the hope it will encourage people to either follow in my steps or to create their own walking project where-ever they live. Please note: The blog background and headliner image of 'Hobart from Mt Wellington' is the work of Tourism Tasmania and Garry Moore. It is a free image with unrestricted copyright and available from http://www.tassietrade.com.au/visual_library

Fruit trees further than the eye could see

After enjoying the river edge for a short while, I arrived at a demarcation line. From that fence, I could see a tiny portion of 700 acres of cherry orchards before it extended over hills and was lost from my view.  While the fences were impassable an ordinary gate fastener made it easy for me to enter the paddock.

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Soon I arrived back at the river edge; in the photo above the river was flowing on the other side of the prominent evergreen tree. After walking a short while, I rested in the deep shadows of a giant wattle tree for a lunch break and enjoyed the smooth rush of the water.

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This was the property of Reid’s Fruits. The Reid’s family’s website proudly announces they grow ‘undoubtedly the best Tasmanian cherries!’  What I saw were trees still dormant, others beginning to bud and a few showing their first blossom. It will be near Christmas and into the New Year before the bountiful harvests reach our tables and make it overseas.

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Cobber and Toby

Many humans love their animals, so I should not have been surprised when I came across an elaborate gravesite for two best mates.

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The location of the site suggests these friends loved playing next to the Derwent River.

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May you rest in peace Cobber the Spaniel and his mate Toby the Beagle.

Road kill

Leaving the main road allowed me to reflect on one of the unpleasant side effects of mankind’s ‘progress’. Every Australian who drives on a rural road (and even when on some suburban streets) knows our native animals make unexpected crossings. One minute the road is clear and then the next second something is running or hopping in the path of your vehicle. I was startled by the number of newly dead animals and birds, and the number of different aged skeletons of their ancestors, which had been on or beside the road in the first few kilometres of my walk along the Derwent River.  In a car, you are on and off the dead animal in a split second and your brain has little time to process what you have just seen and felt.  But at a walking pace I had lots of time to look at their remains and think.

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I think these little fellows might have been Bennett’s Wallabies.

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The remains of two different birds; the first photo shows what was once a cheeky curious flitting male Blue Wren, second photo shows what was once a lively little Silver Eye with his olive green head.

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The long tail indicates this skeleton is the remains of a wallaby.

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Once healthy and vitally alive possums.

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One landowner was determined that possums should not run up his trees. Clearly, if possums cannot climb their natural habitat and sleep safely, then the chances of them attempting to cross roads and be killed are increased.

I noticed other ‘skeletons’ on road verges: man-made objects also ended their lives in patterns similar to those of animal skeletons.

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Of course these hubcaps are not biodegradable and won’t break down easily and return to the earth as renewable energy.

It seems we accept everything is expendable.

The railway bridge

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When I sighted the railway bridge crossing onto the southern/western side of the Derwent River, I was excited because my maps indicated I had every chance of getting off the main road and beginning to walk in paddocks closer to the river.

I loved the rush of the water close by.

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Then access became a challenge.

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Fortunately, a tiny track existed at the water’s edge and I took advantage of this gap. The sullen grey clouds attempted to dampen my spirits, but the sound of the rushing water reinvigorated me as I walked towards, and then under, the railway bridge.

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No longer was the roar of traffic disturbing my thoughts.  Only the sound of the river, the breezes in the trees, and birdsong caught my ears. I was immensely relieved to be away from the madding crowd.

Linden

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The name Linden is used to name streets, roads and courts in the Derwent Valley and elsewhere across Tasmania perhaps as a marker of someone with that surname who made an impact on the community in the past. But I could not find a Linden family history, or any other historical reason to justify the naming of the property I passed at approximately 5 kilometres west of New Norfolk.

Perhaps the naming was related to Linden trees native to England from where an early property owner may have travelled.  I cannot recognise this tree so I cannot say whether the trees on the property were lindens.

Alternatively, does Elena Gover’s account in Tasmania through Russian eyes (Nineteenth and early twentieth centuries) create another possibility? Was this property named after crew member Lieutenant Vilgelm Andreevich Linden of the Russian corvette Boyerin which arrived in Hobart in 1870 at a time of goodwill in terms of Australia-Russia relations? Linden wrote notes and collected extensive information about many aspects of Tasmania. ‘As well as chapters on geography, he made an analysis of the aftermath of transportation on the economic development of the island. Linden collected interesting information about the government and electoral system of Tasmania, and of the system of land allocation which allowed an influx of free settlers…

I did not walk down the driveway so I did not see existing residences at Linden. Apparently ‘Bryn Estyn’ homestead was built on the property in the 1840s, and named after the family home of new settler Lieutenant Henry Lloyd who had relocated from Wales. The State Library of Tasmania holds a photograph of the building:

Bryn Estyn

You may recall an earlier posting showed the Water Treatment Plant named ‘Bryn Estyn’. I can only assume the original land grants for Lloyd included the acres for the Treatment Plant.

A sandstone quarry on the property was the centre of attention when the building of Tasmania’s High Court in Hobart was being planned. Back in 1982, when A. A. Ashbolt owned the mineral lease, the quarry on the Linden property was surveyed to determine whether sufficient stone of ‘acceptable quality’ existed that would be suitable for cladding the new Court. Previously this stone was used on the Supreme Court of Tasmania. The stone was found to have been laid down in the Triassic period (about 3 million years ago), a time when the early dinosaurs were roaming the earth.

I suspect the property, marked with Linden at the entrance, is now known as Ashbolt Farm. The farm specialises in producing products from elderflower and olive trees and additional information is located here.  I wish I had known about this property prior to walking because I would have made arrangements to visit and enjoy a cup of hot elderberry tea.  When I passed this property last Thursday, there was no sign of life and no welcome sign posted.

Immediately past and in the vicinity of the property ‘Linden’, the racing Derwent River was visible from the road.

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A trotting track in the middle of nowhere

Once past the Water Treatment Plant, the country views were expansive.  I looked across green paddocks and could see the back of Mount Wellington with a drift of cloud obscuring its peak.

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The river views were, as ever, seductive.

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Then suddenly I was surprised to find a property with its own horse racing track.

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During the time it took for me to walk past, a trainer with his horse in harness pulled a two wheeled cart and trotted around and around the track. Last Sunday a harness race was held in Launceston in Tasmania’s north, and the next race meeting in Hobart will be on the 27th September so I guess the horse ran a few days ago or will be running soon.

Race track on Glenora Road

Water Treatment Plant

I continued on from Atherfield House and, after passing the Glenfern Rd turn off, I walked westwards until a clearing gave me unexpected access to the river and a full view of a heavy building on the other side. I have not been able to determine the function of this stand-alone structure, however I suspect the building somehow connects with structures soon encountered on my side of the river further along.

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On the non-river side of the road some acres had been circled with high protective fences.

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This was Bryn Estyn, a Water Treatment Plant.

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I wondered if I was dreaming; were the two golden projections on top of the building simulated sheep?

Fences and limited or non-existent river access were the most memorable features of my walk. A good example of these barriers is shown below.

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In the photo above you can see the Lyell Highway on the other side of the river. This road sits close to the river for many kilometres then turns inland away as it wends its way to Tasmania’s west coast towns of Queenstown, Strahan, Zeehan and Rosebery – via Derwent Bridge at Lake St Clair.

Alpacas with a river view

Before I had walked 3 kilometres west from New Norfolk, I was pleasantly surprised to pass a beautiful 19th century grand country house. Photos of the Atherfield House wearing a coat of an inauthentic pink can be seen at http://www.atherfield.com/ and I am delighted to show you the house with its current more sympathetic colour.

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Last week the deciduous trees on this property were yet to flourish with flower and leaf, but the spring bulbs splashed colour in dotty clumps.

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The history of the house has been summarised at http://www.atherfield.com/history.shtml. It seems that this building started its life in the early 1800s as the Help Me On Inn which later was named the Ark Inn.  Over the early decades, when convicts were transported inland they were housed overnight in one of two stone cells still existing beneath the house.

Immediately next to Atherfield House I spotted a paddock containing grazing alpacas.

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View  Atherfield Alpacas for more of these soft gentle-appearing animals.  The Atherfield House and property sits next to the main road over which lies a slip of vegetation then the river. I wonder if the alpacas enjoyed their view of the fast flowing Derwent River as much as I did.

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Starting out last Thursday

Blog followers know I have waited almost impatiently for Spring weather to arrive; I had been so eager for my walk from New Norfolk to Gretna to be pleasantly memorable.  At home the early morning sun shone and Hobart sparkled.  At 8am the Derwent Valley Link bus departed from the city. I was the only passenger until well into the Northern Suburbs when school kids jumped on and took over – as kids do.  By the time the driver dropped me at New Norfolk central the sky was grey and a stiff cold wind blew. The day seemed as dull as the car park (note the bus shelter in the centre).

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Determined not to be distracted by the weather, I headed off towards the bridge over the Derwent River, past the historic Bush Inn.

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I was ready to follow signs.

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I needed to follow the road which led to the Salmon Ponds (although I expected to bypass this location during my walk), however I deviated to the right so I could stare at the Derwent River from the bridge.  At first I looked down onto the mown lawn where I finished Stage 14 of the walk.

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Then I swung around to look at the river from the inland/western side.

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After retracing my steps I was ready to embark on the next adventure. After turning into Glenora Road (designated as B62) on the southern/western side of the Derwent River, I proceeded past St Brigids Catholic School.

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Between the few suburban houses I caught glimpses of the river and then, within minutes, I was leaving New Norfolk.

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For many kilometres, my view of the river was rationed. Occasionally I spotted the beautiful river through an inaccessible profusion of weeds. Mentally I stripped away the vegetation and loved the changing surfaces of the river and the speed with which it flowed.

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Everywhere I looked was lushly green or silvery blue. I was thankful that the overcast sky allowed the colours to reverberate and seem so much richer.

Lots of R&R on Stage 15

There was no rest although perhaps everything I did was recreation. The R&R’s I had in mind were quite different.

I had little choice but to walk on Roads and Railway lines for the majority of my experience from New Norfolk to Gretna. You can deduce from my previous posting this wasn’t where I wanted to walk.  I had hoped for soft ground directly next to the Derwent River as much as possible.

Roads

Over the first kilometres west of New Norfolk, the bitumen minor road towards the townships of Plenty and Bushy Park was narrow, and the road verges were tiny or non-existent.

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To my right, initially house blocks got in the way of my ability to access the river directly. Before long it was metal guard rails, steep drop offs, and weedy tangles which provided a permanent separation. I walked patiently along the road edges changing sides every few minutes to try and get the safest side where I was least likely to be side-swiped by speeding vehicles. Natural gutters with stagnant green slime, or dry mini gulches below the road edges required me to be careful not to tip over when stepping off the road. Apart from not being knocked down by traffic, keeping my balance and not twisting an ankle were paramount concerns. Up and down, across and back.  These were the rhythms for many kilometres.

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In that early period I thought of owners walking their dogs; dogs off a lead. You know – the dog runs ahead then runs back to you then runs off and runs back etc etc.  In the end your dog has ‘walked’ two or three times as far as you. Similarly, as I stepped into and climbed out of gutters, the distance I covered seemed to double or triple.

At some points along the road, the guard rail was only a foot / 30 or so centimetres from the road making it very dangerous to be walking such sections. To protect myself, when a stream of cars was approaching I stood with my back to the rail and backpack hanging over towards the river, and held myself tightly against the rail so that the whoosh of cars or their side mirrors wouldn’t catch me.  It was on one such section that a couple of cars approached and the front one slowed (with the second doing his best not to ram accidentally into the front car, and crash into me at the same time) and stopped in front of me.  The old fellow rolled down the window and asked if I needed a lift. I pointed out he was going in the direction I had walked from and that I was happy to continue in the other direction on foot. Thanks but no thanks.  As I moved on, he drove off.

Later a couple of people stopped and offered me a lift. I think all offers were genuine. But I accepted none. I stood out on the road as an oddball. People just don’t seem to walk much anymore; certainly not on highways and byways.  And road planners show no expectation of pedestrians in their designs.

Some of the road surfaces were rather special. I rather liked the green lichens gradually growing across the black bitumen; I guess there is simply insufficient traffic numbers to wear it down, in this part of the world.

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The special patchwork quilt of a road shown above made me wonder whether this bit was at the extremities of two local government areas. I suspected that both Councils might be thinking that repairing this road was the responsibility of the other.

Occasionally I had the bliss of walking on smooth green soft grasses away from potential close contact with traffic.

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On other occasions the green was deceptive with uneven ground hidden beneath, sometimes containing rabbit scratched holes.

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Road bridges over rivers provided me with the greatest stress mostly because each was unavoidable and I needed to cross over them. Narrow with only two-lanes and without a pedestrian pathway, these were usually preceded or followed by sharp enough corners so drivers were onto the bridge before they could see what else was on the bridge.

Plenty River bridge

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Styx River bridge

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Towards the Derwent River bridge

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I gave the bridge over the Derwent between Bushy Park and Gretna a lot of thought, including considering whether to hitch a ride across it, before taking a deep breath and walking across. The bridge was long with a sweeping corner at one end. It had only one lane with signs at each end that indicated to drivers they should not enter the bridge if another vehicle was travelling across. I was aware that massive multiple-trailer log trucks were regularly on the road, as were other heavy and large transports, and of course locals who whizzed their way everywhere at high speed.

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I wondered how much drivers could be trusted to follow the directions and to slow down. I waited until there was no sound of oncoming traffic from the two distances, and then I hastened across.  But the view distracted me; it was so wonderful looking up and down the river that I felt compelled to take a photo in both directions. I clicked quickly as a large 4wheel drive flashed onto the bridge. I held myself back against the rail as he sped past glowering all the way.

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Railways

First and last I walked on main roads but in between I often had no alternative but to walk on the variously rotting sleepers of an unused railway line.  I couldn’t create a walking rhythm: the sleepers were irregularly spaced and irregularly sized and the spaces between each were filled with rocks, gravel, dirt or grass and weeds. Sometimes there was no fill.

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In this region, the railway line runs on the northern/eastern shore and then, about two thirds of the way from New Norfolk west to the district of Plenty, it makes a diagonal line crossing the Derwent River.  I met the railway on the southern/western side and was able to walk under the old sandstone supports on the river bank before proceeding westwards by following the river closely.

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Later I reached the railway bridge over the Plenty River, where a quick reconnaissance indicated some sleepers were missing and others looked suspiciously like they might disintegrate under weight. My weight.

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For 30 seconds I thought about whether to cross the bridge. I decided that walking on the metal rail track could be safe enough for those experienced with walking on gymnastic balance equipment, but not for those carrying a backpack, nor those easily thrown by sporadic wind gusts. Instead I detoured onto Glenora Road crossed the road bridge and then made my way off the road and back to the railway line.  Thick impenetrable vegetation prevented me from walking closer to the river so I stayed on the railway line for many kilometres, with an occasional foray closer to the river. However, mostly I found it impossible to proceed and returned to walk on the railway line.

This railway line walk should be a stunning place in autumn especially where rows of well-established poplar trees marked the edges. I know the leaves of poplars turn gloriously yellow after summer.

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Towards the end of day one of Stage 15, an impending rainstorm seen at the end of one stretch of line prompted me to look for a suitable campsite.

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A while later I pitched my tent beside the line.

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Next morning the sun was shining, despite very low temperatures, and the glorious views lifted my spirits. I received a text from blog follower Ju that Rail Track Riders http://www.greatrailexperiencestasmania.com.au/event/rail-track-riders/?instance_id=485844 would be in motion along the line during the day. What I surprise for them it would have been to find my tent on the side of the line – but I was well gone before I suspect there was a movement at any station back up the track.

After Bushy Park and en route to Gretna I saw my first railway sign when the track crossed the road.

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Looking back, clearly no railway vehicles had travelled this way in a long time.

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Now cyclists and governments are discussing ways in which to turn this old railway track into a cycling corridor.  But no one is talking about edging closer to the Derwent River.

Thwarted by barriers

I am deeply dispirited. I have some sad news. My impulsive project to walk from the mouth to the source of the Derwent River will be thwarted by greed and other human characteristics of a negative nature. Despite this situation, I am working on a new plan to reach the source of the Derwent River at Lake St Clair Lagoon in a physical and meaningful way and, once I have fleshed out the details, a future post will offer an explanation.  Meanwhile, after you read the following, your suggestions will be most welcome.

During stages 1-14, from time to time I recorded how access to the actual river edge was sometimes denied me because properties were fenced and gated.  I bemoaned the fact that across Tasmania, in many instances the law provides that property owners own land and water to half way across rivers. While a ‘grace and favour access’ or by ‘a permission granted approval’ process exists in some places, much of our river edges cannot be walked freely.  Yet in so many European countries ‘right of way’ paths and walking trails across the land have been taken for granted for centuries so there is much more freedom to simply enjoy being outdoors.  Non-indigenous settlement is too recent in Tasmania so a criss-cross of ‘ancient’ walking paths has not been established, and the pathways of the inhabitants prior to settlement, the aborigines, either have been obliterated or knowledge of their location is not easily available to the non-indigenous population.

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Photo of the Derwent River taken through a house block on the western edge of the town of New Norfolk.

The damage is done and to repeal laws and ‘take away’ land from owners would be political suicide, and cries of unfairness and for expensive compensation would abound. I can imagine the legislation arose partly from consideration of the practicality as to who or which organisation would maintain the thousands of kilometres of river edges across Tasmania and keep them clear from bracken, blackberry brambles and exotic weeds.

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Can you spot the River through these profusely growing weeds?

While walking for leisure purposes has a history in Tasmania since the beginning of European settlement, our early legislators did not have a crystal ball to see that the 21st century is one in which many people want a healthy lifestyle that involves exploring and accessing our natural environment without barriers.

Unfortunately, a damaging minority of people are greedy, thoughtless, and cannot be trusted to meet their promises.  The consequence is what I found during Stage 15 and what I can foresee for Stage 16.  I soon realised that almost no free/public access to the River exists between New Norfolk and Gretna, and it seems this will also be true for any future inland push along the River.

After leaving New Norfolk on the westward proceeding Glenora Road on the southern/western side of the Derwent River, I soon registered paddocks and more paddocks had been recently re-fenced with fresh spiky barbed-wire.

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Note second fence line inside and parallel to the barbed wire fence line.

This year, the Australian Federal Government budget made a concession for small business owners and granted an immediate full tax deduction for expenses up to $20,000.  My conclusion was that farmers in the Derwent Valley grabbed this opportunity and used it to protect the limits of their properties.

As a child my father showed me how to pass through barbed wire fences. The process is best with two people but one can do it. You put your shoed foot on a lower strand of wire to hold it down, then pull the next one up and slip through the enlarged space hoping not to be spiked by the barbs.  But today’s farmers in the Derwent Valley know this trick. Since they don’t want people on their land, the wires are now extremely taut and the spacing between many lines of wire is only about 10-15cm.  If an adult expects to pass through the barbed wire fences of Derwent Valley farmers then Dad’s technique cannot work.

Barbed wire fences were not my only barrier to accessing the Derwent River.  Gates presented insurmountable challenges.  Almost all gates that I arrived at were padlocked. That hasn’t always stopped people accessing a property because the use of strong square wires or other metals in gate construction usually helps you with a footing to lift up and over the top.  Not so with many Derwent Valley farmers’ gates.  The new gates either are ringed in barbed wire or are wrought iron with high straight verticals which provide no place for feet.  For me these were unclimbable.

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Very occasionally I came across older fencing that had minimal or no barbed wire and seemed very climbable. But alas. These fences had an additional strand attached; an electrified line. Intended to keep the cattle in and from trampling fence lines, these electric fences were an absolute barrier for walkers like me.

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In places, farmers had cleverly left overgrown tangles of thorny blackberry canes that extended down paddocks and into the river, as an impossible barrier near their fence lines.

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I came across signs such as ‘Private Property’ and on one occasion the sign warned that ‘Trespassers would be prosecuted’.

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Even access was limited to the very open Sports Ground at Bushy Park, one which contains almost no infrastructure. This Sports Ground edges the Styx River as it flows into the Derwent River.

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The sign pictured below was particularly annoying because it was suggesting that permission might be given if a request was made. However, I couldn’t get access to ask for permission to walk across the land.  Once on the spot, there was no way to discover who the landowner was and then to somehow connect with them using technology.

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On a particularly wonderful luscious green hill that wound around the Derwent heading for Gretna, one where walking close to the river would have been a great pleasure, the sign ‘Trespassers will be shot’ was a strong deterrent.

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During my walk I had decided that perhaps anglers had not respected the limited access they were given to the River at key points, via styles over fences. I mused that perhaps fishermen had strayed further than permitted, wrecked fences and generally not left the land as they found it.

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Blog follower Jo told me a story of how a few men had prearranged with a landowner to come and fish in his dam. After their weekend of fishing they emailed the landowner with thanks for the opportunity to take home 50kgs of fish. Needless to say, this greed was rewarded by the owner telling the fishing party never again to ask for permission to enter his land.

Later at the Gretna Green Hotel where I waited for the bus back to Hobart after completing the Stage 15 walk, I talked with a local about the reason for the impenetrable barriers to properties.  Apparently wood lifting, and cattle and sheep rustling used to be rife in the Derwent Valley until farmers closed their borders.  Not only would people drive onto properties to chop down trees and collect sufficient fire wood for their own personal needs, they would bring trucks in and take loads away to sell.  All without the permission of the land owner.  Similarly, whole cows and sheep would disappear in their droves overnight.  Regularly.  Modern day farmers’ costs are high, their income comparatively low for the hard work they put in, and so they were unprepared to subsidise the living of others. Their fences and gates have become good barriers – not perfect, because occasionally some unscrupulous wanderers bring bolt and fence cutters.  Nevertheless, as a walker with no intent to leave my mark on the land, I cannot proceed.

In my last steps walking into Gretna, I passed the two paddocks through which I envisaged Stage 16 would start. But both had impassable fences and gates with padlocks.  For the next stage, which was expected to cover the area from Gretna to Hamilton via the river, there are at least 4 property owners and who knows how many padlocked gates, bramble congested river edges, barbed wire and electric fences. It is not realistic to ask owners to come and unlock the padlocks and then relock them after I pass through.

While it is true, and you will read details in future posts, that I did access the river from time to time during Stage 15 and experienced some wonderful locations, for most of the walk I was deeply depressed about the limitations under which my project is being placed. I am pleased that writing this post has helped purge some of that anger and frustration. Now that the situation has been recorded, I feel much more ready to be positive again and determine a new way  to reach my goal.  The goal remains the same, but the process must be modified.

Stage 15 of the walk along the Derwent River has been completed!

On Thursday and Friday this past week, I followed the Derwent River and walked from New Norfolk to Gretna via Bushy Park.

Over the coming week I will write new posts detailing my experiences, presenting you with river and landscape vistas, introducing some of the people I met, providing information about aspects of Derwent Valley social and agricultural history as I found it, and showing you a range of animals. In addition, I hope to entertain you with instructions on how to pitch a light tent in a strong wind.

I have now covered approximately 230 kilometres in my quest to walk from the mouth to the source of the Derwent.  By simple measurement, I have passed approximately 87 kilometres of Derwent River.  Please refer to How Far Have I Walked for further information.   Please note that under Frequently Asked Questions I have added new information.

As a result of my findings on this Stage 15 walk (which I will detail in later postings), I believe insurmountable problems exist that will prevent me from proceeding along the River as planned. Therefore, I will need to modify my plan yet still achieve my aim to meet the source of the Derwent River at the southern end of Lake St Clair Lagoon. On this basis I cannot say when a new Stage will be walked.

The Derwent River a short distance west from New Norfolk

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Looking from the Bushy Park bridge north-eastwards towards Gretna

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Dams on the Derwent River

How many square miles?

I do not know the area of land over which I have and will walk along the Derwent River.  And I do not care to find a definitive answer. That’s the sort of fact which doesn’t interest me.

However, I am fascinated to learn that there are 196,939,900 square miles of Earth to explore. So I made a slippery calculation – and determined there is less than 30 square miles per person on our planet.  Take out the area of deserts, and the too high mountains, and the number drops lower. The world’s population is growing rapidly so I strongly recommend you get out and walk your local beaches, parks, bushland, or sail the rivers and seas.  Enjoy these outdoor spaces while you can.

Almost two years ago I visited Hong Kong and walked the city streets with millions of locals in what was claimed to be the most densely populated suburb on earth. But even Hong Kong has thousands of acres of amazing parks, beaches and nature reserves all of which have walking trails in or around them.  All you have to do is to find your special natural places whether they are located in rural or urban areas.

Tasmanian Writers Festival in Hobart

Through last Friday, Saturday and Sunday I participated in workshops and attended discussion sessions presented by individual and groups of local, national and international writers.  Three wonderful days. The venue was perfect, the scheduling of sessions was well timed, the selection of guest speakers provided a rich cross-section of approaches and ideas, and the administration each day by the staff and volunteers associated with the Tasmanian Writers Centre was seamless and seemingly trouble-free.

In particular, I was alert for approaches by which I might turn my walk from the mouth to the source of the Derwent River into a fictional account once the walk is over. Throughout the weekend, I was reminded that the clichés of real life have no place on the page of a novel, that I must stop emphasizing the factual and place emphasis on the underlying emotional and troubling aspects of the story, and that links between the events of the walks could be made on the basis of association rather than chronology. Overall, it seems I should write to bind a reader to the experience not the facts, and that it is best to do so by following a chain of emotional connections. Easier said than done, however these ideas give me a basis on which to start thinking about how the story might unfold.

Memorable sentences from the Festival include:

  • Stand back from your real/true story and view it as a reproduction; as a photo or video made by someone else.
  • What is in memory is not necessarily real.
  • By assigning characters to aspects of the bush / the landscape we shape our own characters and beliefs.
  • Where you stand influences what you see.
  • Real experience is not necessarily a personal experience.
  • The unexpected makes the invisible visible.
  • Use secondary characters to make main character more plausible.
  • If you have a lot of backstory then you have started too late in the story.
  • It is better to write about something you are apprehensive about.

In one session, internationally renowned author Robert Dessaix remarked that he ‘liked himself in India’ and Paris but not in Rome. I liked myself at the Festival venue Hadleys Orient Hotel Hobart for the duration of the Festival.  I believe I will like myself even more in the vicinity of the Derwent River when I walk the edge during the coming days, on the first stage since April.  Spring has arrived!