My trip to Kiernans Falls was such a happy day. It was still school holidays, but Abby was in childcare, and Kirsten had the day off work, which meant that Gussy, Kirsten and I could have our first ever adventure à trois. I chose Kiernans Falls, even though the WoT website (quite rightly) made it sound quite difficult. Eight-year-old Gussy is agile and nimble, as well as very fit, and with his mum and me to guide him, I didn’t think he would have any problems. Kirsten is pretty faultless in the bush. I did warn them that I reckoned we would all get wet feet; just don’t bother about keeping the tootsies dry.
Climbing above the fallsMore climbing
As it was, alas, our feet stayed very dry, as the creek bed up which we climbed was pretty devoid of water. This did not detract in the slightest from our enjoyment of this area. The moss was still lovely and green, and the climbing both in and out of the creek was fun, and appreciated by all. We climbed to the top of the falls, as I thought Caedence’s report had two tiers. Indeed it did, but the lower tier was actually below the big falls, not above. That didn’t matter; it was such a fun climb, and prolonged the pleasure. We have all vowed to return when there is more water. (Note, there is no path. Do not attempt unless you are very familiar with finding your own way in the bush. Don’t be fooled by the capable Gussy).
Even higherSnack time, back down by the main river, in a cool and lovely spot.
We were faced with a quandary on the final day of our short holiday at Mt Field National Park, as we were there with a four and an eight year old, and had already been to the three well-known waterfalls (Russell, Horseshoe and Lady Barron) the day before. On this day, we only had a pitiably short amount of time, and we wanted to go high. We decided to go as far as we could along the Mt Field East path, and just turn around after forty-five minutes. However, after a time that was not very long, and well before we needed to turn around, we reached the turn-off to Seagers Lookout, and decided it would be our destination. Little Abby was coping much better than the previous day, enjoying the challenge of this rocky path where you had to think before you put your foot down, and where you could play jumping and bouncing games while you went.
Abby enjoying the rocky track
Gussy and I played other games on rocks, climbing this and that while we waited for Abby. Luckily, our turn-around time came just as we rounded the corner that promised our goal. We figured we’d wasted a lot of time balancing on the dam wall at Lake Fenton, so weren’t too worried. Abby and her mum settled down to enjoy the obligatory lollies that one has when one reaches one’s goal bushwalking, while Gussy and I climbed the rocks to touch the summit cairn.
Climbing this and that while waiting for his sisterClimbing this and that while waiting for his sister
I have seen in the web that this is called an easy walk. Perhaps the writer is a 6 ft tall male aged maybe 20. If you are an eight year old boy, this is NOT an easy climb. I showed Gussy how to use pressure on each side of the chimney to work his way up it. I was delighted to hear him grunt with effort, as I respect anyone who is prepared to work for his or her goals. Laziness annoys me. Gussy concentrated hard, and was thrilled to rise to the challenge of the rocks and take the final couple of easy steps to the cairn.
Surrounded by boulders. About to attempt the final climbThe last pull before the summit cairn
I realised that coming down would be harder for him, so once more went first, and found it challenging myself until my right foot found a ledge it could use. Somehow it was hard to get into a position where one could prevent falling by pressing on each side. Gussy’s mum heard that I was needing to help him more, as this was the most challenging descent he has ever done, so came around to help coach him. I hope he doesn’t mind my saying here, but I could tell he was afraid, so I am very proud that he didn’t freeze, but pushed through his fear, trusted our instructions, and managed to climb down. In case you have children and want to do this walk, it is a totally delightful walk without touching the actual cairn. That is just icing on the cake. Abby doesn’t feel she’s missed out on anything (especially as she used the time to imbibe more lollies than her brother).
Abby practises climbing down lowerFree play in the forest
Kirsten touched the summit herself, and then it was time to start back down, with a need now for great haste; we were rushing, as Gussy had been invited to play tennis (hot shot tennis) on centre court at the Hobart International before the semi-finals started. We were terribly proud of him for being thus selected, and certainly did not want him to arrive late. I am happy to announce that he also did not arrive maimed from his climb. When Abby’s pace threatened our timetable, Kirsten popped her on her back, and virtually jogged down the mountain with her on board. I stopped to put something in my pack, and had to run to catch up.
Fearsome Ned Kelly ambushes victims
With its mild challenges, its variety of natural amusements for children, and its perfect length, I highly recommend this as a walk for families. As said, touching the actual cairn is not obligatory to enjoyment.
Fly princess, fly
The previous day, Abby had been far more fractious, as the wide, smooth paths offered little variety or interest for young children. We had had a tantrum or two (or more) on the way to Lady Barron Falls. Abby survived Lady Barron by joining Gussy in a game of Ned Kelly, hiding under bridges or behind trees to shout “Boo” at us as we went by. The other two falls were enjoyed not so much for their water falling, but for the opportunity I gave them to get off the predictable track and into the real forest, which gave them scope to use their imagination and test their little muscles. I watched them play, thrilled that they were interacting with nature rather than being in a plastic playground.
On this little holiday, we saw my first ever bandicoot up close (1 m), a quoll (which seems to be rare these days), bats, glow worms, a very close and obliging echidna, and many paddymelons. We tried for a platypus, but failed.
It seems to be a recently established tradition that we climb Hartz Peak the day after we return to Creekton Falls to have a family ‘Bruce memorial’. That is, we did it last year, and again this year. Hartz Peak is near our base of Driftwood Cottages at Dover (nearer still to Geeveston), and is doable for the children. Traditions are good things to have, as long as you don’t become their slave.
Some wet, muddy bits, that convinced Abby she needs bush boots.
I recently read a book by Katherine Abetz (An Obstinate Love) set in the Federation era, in which they took three days to climb Hartz Peak (and wore long frocks and high heels shoes). Abby wore a tutu, as you do if you’re three, and strapped leather shoes, and we were back by early afternoon of the day we set out. Gussy had his proper bush shoes on, and Abby agrees that she needs a pair. She got her feet very muddy, and a little bit wet. Unlike the characters in Katherine’s book, the children elected to run most of the way, despite Abby’s tender age. We adults, more burdened down with gear, went at a more measured pace. Gussy pressed on the accelerator between Ladies Lake and the top, so I left the group to keep him company, tucking in behind him to let him keep his nose in front. I rather think that next year, when he will be in third class, I will have no choice in the being behind bit. This year I was comfortable, but aware that the pace was verging on the “not so”. Soon I would be puffing. He is getting very fit, and already has a fantastic beep test score.
And she’s off again on the boardwalk.
Keithy braved a swim in Ladies Lake, to “have one for Bruce”, who, for most of his life until Parkinson’s got a good grip, swam any season, any weather, any altitude. I have pictures of him and our daughter swimming with icebergs in the Alps. Keith was a delicate shade of blue at the end. The rest of us watched.
On the way back, the tutu hit the rucksack.
Predictably, Abby was very prepared to examine insects and other interesting features on the way down. She is a diminutive three, and her running on the outbound journey must have been pretty exhausting.
After the previous day’s successful adventuring, Gussy and I (despite the sad reduction in the number of garlic chick peas left in the packet) decided to go and explore the Hobart Rivulet on Mt Wellington and follow the watercourse along in search of some waterfalls I hadn’t yet visited.
Champers Falls
For a seven year old, this is very hard work, and I was so proud to hear Gussy breathing very deeply and making noises of exertion as he hauled himself up various almost vertical slopes. Like me, he loved the ducking under, climbing over, and skirting around of obstacles that went on. On our way back, he asked if he could lead, and did a great job.
Disappearing Falls
We found some falls, and some beautiful spots where the river gurgled in a picturesque way over rocks in a ferny glade. Best of all, Gussy found a great burnt-red, sandpapery-textured gilled fungus, which he wanted me to photograph. Sadly, I said I would do so on the way back, assuming we would retrace our steps pretty exactly, but, alas, we didn’t quite, so didn’t get the shot he wanted. I’m annoyed with myself, as I don’t have any images of this specimen, but I thought I did. The russet cap was 4-5 kms in diameter. The nearest I can see in the web is Gymnopilus moabus. Gussy is convinced we can get it next time, but I rather think it will be dead by then. Hopefully it has friends or relatives to continue the line. Meanwhile, we did photograph a beautiful metallic blue Cortinarius.
Happy little waterfall bagger at Strickland Falls
Next day, I went back while he was at school and got better photos of some of the falls, and added Betts Vale Falls to the collection (on roughly the same contour as O’Gradys, next tributary to the east, at the track-creek intersection). We have now photographed five waterfalls on the Hobart Rivulet. I have no idea how many more possibilities there are. Thanks to Peter Podolak for his instructions in locating two new ones I have just called Hobart Rivulet Falls A and B. HIs names are Champers Falls and Disappearing Falls. (He did call Champers Champagne, but I pointed out that that particular name was already taken, so he agreed to change it to Champers to avoid confusion – just names so we can all refer to things and each know what we are talking about – nothing official, of course). They are between Strickland and O’Gradys if you follow the watercourse up.
Cortinarius spBetts Vale Falls
(Pity about the rubbish obscuring this otherwise lovely waterfall.)
An “expedition” to Billy Browns Falls (near Judbury) might not seem a big deal if you are an adult, but Gussy (aged seven) and I were excited: it was our first adventure for just the two of us since January. This would only be the second waterfall Gussy has ever bagged. It was going to be a big day.
I was rather worried about the road in – instructions were not clear as to whether I could get my Subaru Forester (AWD, not 4WD) up the relatively unkempt road to the start. I showed him the map before we left and said I might have to park at the bridge, but, if we were lucky, we could get all the way up here, and I showed him. He was fine with that. (He’s very fit for his age).
Sure enough, after the bridge, the road became full of puddles of unknown depth, and rocks that I had to swerve around, just in case our underbelly was not high enough. Gussy loved all the swerving and bouncing, and soon enough we were ready to begin the easy bit: the part on two legs. The day looked uncertain, so, although the walk was only a few kilometres, we took our rain gear in our backpacks.
There was a blue sign where we parked our car to indicate that off in the scrub lay a path to the falls. The sign said 1.5 hours’ return, so we decided we’d time ourselves to see how near to the expected forty-five minutes our outward journey would take. We were at the top of the big hill one has to go over before descending to the falls in fifteen minutes. Another seventeen took us to the base of the falls. (33 minutes’ total when one adds in the seconds.) We had loved the shady, mossy forest, and had seen a few fungi on the way we thought we’d photograph on the rebound, but on the outward journey, we were intent on the falls themselves.
Once there, Gussy enjoyed the chickpea and chocolate almond snacks I’d brought, while I did my photographing. It was hard, actually, as there was so much water coming down that the spray and wind resulting were huge, and it was challenging to find an angle that would allow me to keep my lens dry.
On the way back, Gussy was a boy with a purpose, intent on beating the clock. He’d been thrilled with the outward time, but wanted to improve it. We rose to the top of the very steep hill in just under 14 minutes, and were down the bottom in under 10. All up, the walking section took us 57 minutes’ return. As I said, Gussy is a very fit seven year old.
We bounced our way back to the bridge, where we took a brief break to play Pooh sticks, and then we were on our way to enjoy a special cafe lunch at Huonville.
The blue line begins where the car was parked – which means the road is not quite accurate on the map.
To get to the start, take the Judd Creek Road north out of Judbury, and keep going until the blue sign is reached. You will cross the creek twice. After the first bridge is crossed, the road deteriorates markedly, and continues thus until your goal, maybe 2 kms more (sorry, didn’t measure – too busy negotiating lumps and bumps).
