Tag Archives: sheep

Lake Repulse Dam to Catagunya Dam – posting 10 of 13

I enjoyed the walk from my camping spot to Catagunya in the early morning.  Except, as usual, I didn’t enjoy negotiating fences.  Getting from one side to the other took time. Most were rather challenging. Frequently, I needed to unhitch my backpack, lift its 14kg weight in a clean and jerk manoeuvre and tumble it over a fence.  Then I would walk up and down the fence line until I found the easiest (never easy) place for me to crawl under the fence, climb over or squeeze through the fence.  Back to the pack, heave it onto my back, and adjust the straps.  Thankfully the paddocks were huge and I could never see all sides at the same time which means I didn’t have as many fences as one might imagine for this distance. The fences followed the curves of hills and disappeared over crests.  I only ever saw two gates.

From the smaller second dam I followed a creeklet down down down to an almost hill-less flatter space that bordered a section of Lake Repulse.

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I turned north-west and meandered up a smaller hill slope until Catagunya Dam came into view.

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Ahead of me were extensive paddocks with sheep.

Beside me, to my left through a thick edge of trees Lake Repulse/Derwent River streamed away in a south-easterly direction.

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Solid thick trunked trees stood sentry near the water beside rocky outcrops which defined the River edges and stopped the expansion of vegetation.

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I looked back from where I had come; way behind all the hills you can see.

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I looked forward to my destination.

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I looked around about me.

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How beautiful the country looked with its softened edges.

Walking between Gretna and Lake Repulse Dam – 2 of 3

Fences and gates

Avid readers of this blog know that locked and impassable gates, and barbed wire and electric fences have stymied my progress in recent walks. As I expected, these exist not only on the perimeters of properties but also throughout.

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Therefore, my recent walks involved a great deal of walking away from the River in search of a way to continue; looking for a way to access the next paddock. I always hope for uninterrupted access to the river edge, but experience shows that hill climbing must be part of the process.  This means a simple 5 km section of the River might take 8 km of walking.  Being forever positive, I am glad for the expansive views of the River when I am up high.  But I am not in love with clambering up hills. Despite the deviations, I negotiated dozens of fences/gates.

The land

Farmers tell me that normally the land dries out in around six weeks’ time. However this year, the non-irrigated paddocks are parched.  The ‘soil’ of some land is sand and rock making me wonder whether it has been so for millennia or is only now tending towards a desert.  In other places, large fissures have cracked open the ground.

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Elsewhere, I saw evidence of large bushfires that probably rushed through the bush three or so years ago. New growth surrounded blackened trunks.

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Negotiating paddocks with livestock

Sheep and cattle wander through large paddocks on either side of the River in much of this area.

I do my best not to enter a paddock with livestock and always try to find alternative routes.  The result is grand deviations from the ‘straight line’ of walking the Derwent.

Cattle are curious or expect food and with their big bodies swaying they tend to walk towards you. Then at a point when I begin to feel most uncomfortable, skittishly they run off.  On the other hand, sheep stand and stare until alarmed. Then they run off, bleating madly.

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I don’t believe it is useful to raise either their or my stress levels.  At this time of the year when lots of mothers and their calves or lambs abound, the last thing I want to do is stress these creatures.

Occasionally, I have shared a paddock with either cattle or sheep. When in a paddock with the animals, I have done my best to walk in such a way that they move slowly away rather than charging off manically.  However, when I saw rams staring at me from under their sharp curly horns, I saw no point in confrontation, and took an alternative route – which in this particular circumstance required me to descend a very very steep hill, knowing I would have to climb back up further along. And I don’t like hills.

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Crops

Commercial and feed crops cover some of the land. I am not a farmer but I think the following photo shows wheat. Can anyone advise me?

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I feel sure this is barley below but am I correct?

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And I know the photo below shows oats.  I once had bales of oat straw brought to mulch my garden. Ever since, wild oats have sprouted and I have come to love their lacy heads.

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I have no idea what I was looking at when I came across this irrigated crop – can anyone identify the vegetation below?

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Out on the Farm

On the last day of October 2015, I walked along the river edge (part of Meadowbank Lake) and mostly on the property of Curringa Farm.  I am most appreciative for Tim and Jane Parsons allowing me to walk there.

Their Farm is home to thousands of sheep.

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While I walked along approximately 4km of the river’s edge towards where the Clyde River entering the Lake, my friend Alex waited. As she sat in the car reading newspapers and drinking tea from her thermos, the wonderful view down to the ‘river’ as shown below was hers to savour.  In fact this waterway is one part of the very long Meadowbank Lake through which the Derwent River flows. One of Alex’s photos is shown below.

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While I walked, the Lake was busy with jet boats and water skiers. Watch this video.

As usual, the water and the river’s edge landscape enthralled me.

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When I walk alone I hear and see things which are not usually available if I walk with another. That is, the talking or the crashing through the bush disturbs birds and animals and they disappear.  During this walk, when a Rufus wallaby was suddenly standing before me a few metres away, we were both surprised. The bush was so quiet and I must have been making foot noises which sounded like normal bush rustlings so that s/he wasn’t immediately aware of my presence.  Eventually s/he hopped off to watch me from some bushes in the distance. I hadn’t moved a muscle since we first eyeballed each other.  But after its bounce away, my eyes swivelled to focus on a movement on the hill above. Down hopped a small wallaby and on the crest his/her mother appeared.  The following video shows them almost camouflaged in the environment. I feel sure you will not find the smaller baby wallaby until it moves again.

Watch this video.

Through the undergrowth, many well ‘walked’ tiny tracks were visible but on closer inspection they seemed to be wallaby highways.

20151031_114746.jpg Clever animals – they had been able to gradually force up fences in order to continue moving through paddocks. If you study the photograph below, on the lower right hand side you can see the wire mesh fence has been raised by rounding it up from the ground.

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Substantial sandstone/mudstone rocks intruded at the water’s edge and as cliffs formed hillsides and cave-type overhangs.  I wonder if the original inhabitants of the land rested in some of these places.

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The next selection of photos shows a couple of examples of the profusion of bush flowers seen during this walk: I cannot identify the first but the second is a tiny native orchid.

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Generally the bush was extremely dry, so much so that the lichen growing on rocks was shrivelled and seemingly dead.

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Parts of the Derwent Valley have received so little rain over winter that there is insufficient vegetation coverage for the cattle and sheep to eat in the coming months.  Apparently many farmers will be selling their sheep soon before the animals lose their good condition.  It is so challenging to work on the land.  It will be so challenging for city dwellers wanting to eat lamb in a few months’ time – a few gold ingots might be needed to make a purchase.

Nevertheless, it is a beautiful part of the world.

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Blue skies and sheep glorious sheep

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It seems so long ago that the Chinese New Year was launched back on the 19th February 2015 and announced as the Year of the Sheep according to the Chinese zodiac.  The ‘year’ continues until 7 February 2016.

As I walked, my mind often wandered to sheep.  The paddocks were dotted with these woolly bundles. The first merinos were sent by Governor King to Hobart in 1805.  More varieties of sheep were brought into Van Diemens Land from the early 19th century as the colony established itself; firstly for meat consumption and then not long after for wool. The establishment of woollen mills followed. These days sheep farmers around Tasmania continue to supply our nation’s butchers and supermarkets, and the fashion industry via fine wool fabrics.

Friends and blog followers know that sheep figure in my list of loves (Refer to an earlier posting).  Therefore, it should not surprise you when this post concludes with photographs I took last year of a very large marble sculpture installed in Stockholm Cathedral, Sweden. Stunningly beautiful!

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Higher and higher

Eventually I began to crest the hill and behold vistas on the Lyell Highway side of the hill. Glimpses of the Derwent River appeared from time to time.

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Amidst the rolling cleared paddocks with their sheep, one was cultivated.

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I wasn’t sure of the vegetable but it seemed as if the crop was cabbages bolting towards seeding.  Rather strange they were not picked earlier.  Were they intended to be animal feed?

The afternoon was glorious.  The spring blue sky colour, the variations in the landscape, the occasional jigsaw pieces of Derwent River which popped into view, and the rural quietness were splendid.

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Watch out! Cows crossing

After Rayners Corner, I walked back along Glenora Road because I could not access the property separating me from the Derwent River. The tall dry teasels made a barrier on the left of the road.

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When I registered the sound of a motor cycle and a quad bike on the hill, I watched two farmers sweeping down as they herded cattle towards the fence next to the road.

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Within moments the bike was on the road ready to halt traffic.

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And then the cows were out.  Their job was simply to walk from one paddock to another across the road.

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But along the road barrelled a speeding car which skittered the cattle so they began to run towards Bushy Park.  The car stopped short. The farmers glared. I stood still knowing if I kept walking in that direction the cows would be spooked further.

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Eventually the cattle found their paddock.

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I continued walking along. Then I turned and talked with Mrs farmer while Mr farmer locked gates.  When he joined the conversation he assured me that while the cattle had a mind of their own, sheep were the particular challenge he particularly did not like when it was time to take them over a busy road.  His sheep could never be trusted to know they should not run off.

Near the edge of the Derwent River again

Having farewelled the walking cyclist, I spotted a style built giving anglers access over a fence and at the same time I appreciated a grand curve in the Derwent River down below.

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The views of the river, the paddocks and the sheep were magnificent.

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As usual, continual direct access to the river was impossible.  This time, the very steep and slippery river banks were the greatest impediment.

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I continued along Glenora Road until I was able to follow a vehicular track to the water.  On the river edge, a large irrigation pump took pride of place. The water was clear. The sun sparkled across the surface. But access to the water was denied me because a steep slippery mudbank, which I did not believe I could climb back up if I slipped down, separated me from that elusive fluid.

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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.

Another idyllic pathway on Stage 14 of my walk along the Derwent River

The world I entered on the pathway away from the Tynward Park sports ovals, was gentle in the autumn afternoon light. Almost a fairyland. A father fishing while his young daughter sat making drawings.  Blue wrens flitting. Seeding bull rushes sending creamy fluff across the path. Superb water reflections.

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The dramatic background was the walls of Derbyshire Rocks in startling view on the other side of the Derwent River.

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How lucky I felt to be able to walk in such a beautiful place, free of all worries.

The track started climbing up and away from the River.

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Black faced sheep grazed behind fences

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Powerful pylons carried electricity across country.

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I enjoyed the watery views with the backdrop of autumn toned trees and then, with excitement at 2.20pm, for the first time during the walk I saw the bridge in the distance over the Derwent River at New Norfolk.

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Not much later I came to a fork in the path, but neither track were signposted.  Where to from here?

Large information panels provided information about the nearby historic Turriff Lodge property (on which the black-headed sheep grazed), but nothing about which path went where.

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Time for a morning tea break on Stage 14 of my walk along the Derwent River

At 11.20 am, having been walking from Granton towards New Norfolk since a little before 8am,  the Sorell Creek area seemed a pleasant place to stop and take a break. The town is too small to have a shop so, as usual, I dug into my backpack for some prepared food to nibble.  I rested on a grassy bank near the road verge with my back to the Lyell Highway and surveyed the low paddocks with resting watchful cows, munching sheep and wandering geese.  Their backdrop were golden poplar trees with leaves dropping and blowing in the occasional breeze, and a strip of glassy dark blue Derwent River streamed behind. The crows were cawing. Traffic roaring. But the sun sparkled on everything I could see. The vista and experience seemed quite magically unreal.

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Seeing the paper mill at Boyer for the first time during the Stage 14 walk, was a thrill

After 15 minutes of walking, following my departure from the powerboat racing arena, the tarred road verges disappeared and weedy grass grew over lumpy and uneven ground to the edge of the Highway. I was forced to stand clear as cars and trucks approached, but there were moments when I could step out a rhythm walking on the Lyell Highway tarmac.  This situation continued for half an hour, however I was pleased that before and after this section I had a good metre or more width of road verge to walk along safely.

The features that could be seen from the Highway were varied: a feeding family of pelicans across the water; prominent Mt Terra on the other side of the Derwent River with Mt Dromedary behind; occasional tiny creeks lost in verdant grasses passing under the road; vehicle pull-offs at the edge of the road so boats could be entered into the water; corrugated iron cut-out full sized cows standing in a paddock; and a paddock full of horses their heads turned towards the sun.

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At one part of the walk, in the distance and way south, the peak ‘Collins Cap’ pointed into the autumn sky.

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The distant paper making mills at Boyer showed their steaming stacks – an expanse of water, farming land or thickets of trees kept me separated. I knew these mills were very close to New Norfolk so that the larger the buildings seemed, the closer I was to reaching my destination.

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By 10.50am I had a sense that I was returning to peopled land. Firstly I walked passed a long drive leading to a private house at the bottom of the hill; with long rows of old Radiata pines edging the highway.

A few moments later I passed the sheep grazing property named ‘Sunnyside’ on the western side of the road – a sign announced ‘Sunnyside’ was for sale.  You can make an expression of interest at http://www.domain.com.au/property/for-sale/rural/tas/sorell-creek/?adid=2010785567&sp=1 if interested. In the write up on that site, mention is made that the soils are based on limestone – makes the establishment of the lime kilns further south understandable.

At 10.54 am I reached a large cherry growing orchard on my right.

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Over the road to my left, on the property named ‘Scottsdale’ sat two old buildings which seemed late 19th century in architectural style. The sign on the gate declared this was the Derwent Dorper Stud (Rams), however this seems not to have a presence on the internet.

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I noticed a Derwent Valley Link bus stop outside Scottsdale and the cherry orchard – for fruit pickers or shearers???  Certainly not for me. I had many kilometres yet to walk. New Norfolk was my destination, and so onwards I continued.

Walking the Back Roads

My upstate New Yorker blog follower (https://deescribesblog.wordpress.com/about) who came to Tasmania recently and walked with me along GASP to MONA, alerted me to the blogsite (https://walkingbackroads.wordpress.com/about/) re “Walking the Back Roads: A Hundred Years from Philadelphia to New Hampshire“.   She recognised my broad interest in people who decide to walk paths that are not normally walked. Thank you.  I love followers alerting me to such sites.

The walking the backroads blogsite has been inspired by a range of different books written by walkers of the highways and backroads of America through the 19th century. The blogger examines their stories.  He refers to the walk which he undertakes as ‘the long walk home’. Very interesting.

The concept of walking on backroads is instantly appealing to me. I wonder how many backroads exist which connect with Tasmania’s Derwent River in some way. I guess there may be hundreds and that they would all lead to interesting, mostly remote places. I imagine our backroads would peter out into bushland where sheep or cattle graze, rabbits multiply, indigenous wombats might run, Tasmanian devils fight for scraps of native food, or wallabies roam.

Suddenly the question comes to me; what is the definition of a backroad? When is a road no longer a main road? Is it a matter of how many people live along its edges?  Is it a matter of how many vehicles use it? Is it a matter of the road being unknown to the majority of the surrounding population? Is it possible to have a backroad in city areas or can they only be found in rural areas? Or are backroads, roads which are out of the way, difficult to find, and often not on maps?  And does a vehicular unsealed track count as a backroad?

In other words, how would I know if I was on a backroad? Is it sufficient that I make the decision?  Guess it would be. And I guess the locals may not refer to their road as a backroad even when I might.

All we like sheep …

Once again Handel’s oratorio The Messiah came to mind when I reached the top of one steep hill climb.

The initial words to the particularly delightful section are: “All we like sheep have gone astray: we have turned everyone to his own way. …”  When sung, the voices start with ‘all we like sheep’ and do not continue immediately to the subsequent words.  Therefore, there is a tendency that if the words are not sung clearly, listeners think that we all like sheep, when the meaning is that we are similar to sheep and may go astray.  As for me, I like sheep and I have never been trusted not to go astray (after all, walking the Derwent isn’t what normal people do).  Nevertheless I am always happy to break out singing this marvellous song.  Have a listen to a choir (Choir of King’s College, Cambridge) which performs it well; at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ixmNZQH0NjU The photos of sheep in all sorts of situations are shown while the voices sing the song. Incredibly entertaining.

Watch this video –  

Back to my walk.  Next to Tinderbox Road, I came across a couple of paddocks of resting sheep and ‘everyone had turned to his own way’.

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On my return journey they were up and about grazing independently, but ‘everyone had turned to his own way’.  How could not we all like sheep?

A new milestone marking the 13th stage of my walk along the Derwent River: I reached the mouth on the western shore. Whoppee Doo!!

Yesterday, I completed the first part of my walk along the Derwent River: an exciting achievement.

Last August I started walking from the mouth of the River at Cape Direction on the tip of the South Arm peninsula and now, at the end of February, I have completed the distance from that mouth to the Bridgewater Bridge and back on the western shore to Pearson’s Point near the settlement of Tinderbox.

On the 8th stage mid-November, I had the first major milestone when I finished the walk from Cape Direction to the Bridgewater Bridge. This 13th stage was the culmination of walks from the Bridge back to the mouth on the western side of the River.

During yesterday’s walk, I covered about 5km of the length of the Derwent River.  By my reckoning, the total distance of the Derwent River on the western shore from the Bridgewater Bridge to the mouth is 38 3/4 km.

For Stage 13 yesterday, I needed to walk to Pearson’s Point from the bus stop where I finished on Stage 12 and then, on reaching my goal, I needed to retrace my steps back to Blackmans Bay to connect with a bus that could return me to Hobart.  This distance was approximately 17 kms. I have now walked at least 171km not counting getting to and from buses.  But when the walks are staggered over time, this number does not mean much.

The highlights of the walk to Pearson’s Point were mostly small and natural: rosehips, green rosellas, hum of bees, resting sheep, and the taste of delicious ripe blackberries along the way.

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I was surprised how close the northern part of Bruny Island was to the mainland of Tasmania (almost felt like I could swim across the D’entrecasteaux Channel) and I felt overwhelmed by the staggeringly expansive and grand views across and up and down the Derwent River.

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The fun part was singing (including mixing up the words in my excitement) Handel’s Hallelujah chorus (from The Messiah) at the top of my voice when I passed a large sign with the words SING. You can listen to a superb version performed in 2012 by the Royal Choral Society at the Royal Albert Hall in London England at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IUZEtVbJT5c

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IUZEtVbJT5c

Over the next few days I will write up the journey and the discoveries of Stage 13’s walk.  Then I will be looking towards a long main road walk from the Bridgewater Bridge at Granton to New Norfolk which I expect to undertake in the next couple of weeks.  Once I have reached New Norfolk I will be on the way to Lake St Clair, the source of the Derwent River.