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Myrtle Forest Falls 2019 Mar

Myrtle Forest Falls 2019 Mar


Not much water in Myrtle Forest Falls today – but that’s OK; our purpose is to give the children an adventure, not to take a champion shot of a waterfall caught with its pants down.
It was time for a big adventure. We had originally wanted to take the children up Collins Cap, but set out far too late, so adjusted our goals. Our new one was the saddle before the last climb. That was doable for two small children (3 and 7). I think it is important with young ones to make a goal that is reachable so they have the feeling of success. When the goal is badly chosen (like today), they are happy to make a different one, but they do like to know where they’re heading, and to reach that spot. “How far to go now?” needs a distinct answer. We show the children the map, and Gussy takes a great interest in the altimeter on his dad’s watch (which he is allowed to wear on walks so he can plot our upwards progress).


Inspecting some insect or other
On this day, with our late departure, we had lunch almost at the start, where there is a picnic shelter. The children had plenty of time to explore while we ate more than they did. Both of them love to inspect every insect and fungus … and anything else they can find.



They enjoyed the waterfall that followed shortly after that, but were eager not to dally. I photographed, promising to catch up as soon as possible, which happened at the roped section. If I remember correctly, Abby had declared it time for some of the promised lollies. It seems that after our Lord Howe Island adventures, Abby has decided that a walk isn’t a walk if it doesn’t have a roped section, so it was good this walk obliged. She enjoys the challenge of negotiating the obstacles with the aid of the ropes that add excitement.


Inspecting a lizard
Up we climbed through the beautiful mountain pandani forest. By the time we reached the intersection of this little track and the big wide fire trail, Gussy was temporarily running out of steam, and Abby needed a piggy back. Luckily, this was our chosen goal. They knew this was the turnaround point, so their energy picked up immediately they saw their target for the day had been reached, and suddenly they had zest for running races along the flats with their dad. We laid out the picnic afternoon tea, and some other children came past with their mum, who commented on our special bushwalking food. I knew from her voice and body language that she, too, must have prepared something special for her two girls out on their adventure. We shared a complicit smile: two families teaching the next generation to love and care for the bush.
(The track to this area is very clear. It begins at Myrtle Forest Picnic shelter, which can be googled. It took us maybe half an hour to drive north from Hobart to reach it.)

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Hartz Peak 2018 Oct

Hartz Peak 2018 Oct

Abby surveys the view from Hartz Mountain.
It has been six years since I last climbed Hartz Peak: certainly time for a revisit, and what fun to be able to share it with the family. This would be Abby’s first Abel, Gussy’s second.

Hartz summit in view
Of course, with young children, the going is slower, and most unusually, our ascent was punctuated with a swim in Ladies Tarn. In fact, some of us swam there in both directions. Even Abby got brave enough to strip off all her clothes, but changed her mind about immersion once her toes felt the gelid water.  I didn’t even think about it.


Ladies Tarn
Hartz Peak has a track the whole way, so is very easy for fit children to accomplish. Gussy, aged seven, fair bounced up the mount. Abby, aged two, took longer, and had to hitch a ride for part of the way. Porters and children needed a break at the tarn.

Both children took great pleasure in touching the summit cairn, and in having lunch on top of a mountain. Here are some photos of the journey to the top to give you an idea of what it’s like if you haven’t yet had the pleasure of doing this one. The actual walking time was about half an hour to the tarn, and a further half to the top (Gussy times, not Abby ones). The return was actually a little slower than the ascent. Gussy shares his nan’s summit fever (the two of us went on ahead of the others together) and is cautious on the downhill. I actually went on ahead on the rebound in order to check out Keoghs Falls – but they were a huge disappointment, and I didn’t even bother photographing them.


Hartz Peak summit area Gussy


Hartz Peak summit area Abby

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Creekton Falls Track 2018

Creekton Falls Track 2018 Bushwalking with children


When we bushwalk with children, we see tracks – and matters in general – through new eyes. Not only do the children open our hearts afresh to the glories of nature as they look with wonder at the beautiful world around them, but we also see how high steps actually are, or how difficult some obstacles are. This does NOT mean we want them removed, oh bureaucrats sitting in your offices with even surfaces and life reduced to three easy manoeuvres: it just means we become more newly aware of the challenges (good ones) they pose, and we learn patience as we watch the children struggle through something we find easy. Such efforts teach them resilience, stamina, and determination. They help make them fit and stimulate the brain.


Children who go bushwalking are not going to grow up into passive, nanny-reliant blobs. Gussy rose to the challenges posed by obstacles too high to go over, low to go under and enormous to go around all by himself, and was thrilled with the affirmation that conquering them gave him. His dad, being 6′ 2”, possibly had more difficulty, actually, and Abby went her required “number of kilometres to match her age” rule, and then hitched a ride on mum’s back. Her mother’s feat in dodging dangers whilst carrying a rather heavy, mobile sack was extraordinary.

Normally when I bushwalk, I do not take all that many action shots. I have crashed my sternum against my camera enough times to make me cautious with regard to my former methods of camera attachment. However, today I made an exception, and photographed the expedition rather than the goal. If you want to see the actual falls, please turn to
www.natureloverswalks.com/creekton-falls/

These photos are here to give people an idea of what the actual track (past Duckhole Lake) is like, and to give parents encouragement to get the kids out there in nature. It is so much better for them than staring at screens. Nature provides for them the very best playground. It is not sterile and smooth like the risk-free government ones: it is far, far better. I am so glad the government is too busy and too impoverished to interfere with tracks like this and dumb them down to the lowest common denominator, as they do with so many of the more popular tracks.

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Overland Trail 1988 Jan – with 7 and 9 year olds

Overland Trail 1988
Thanks to the adventurous Hoban family, we walked the Overland Trail with children who had just turned seven and nine. They managed perfectly, the only problem being that one of them (luckily, not one of mine) ate her entire lolly bag on the first day and had to learn the hard way about the art of rationing.  You can see from the final photo the enthusiasm with which they embraced the track.

 

 

 

My records inform me that Bruce and I walked the Overland Trail in 1975, 1988, 1992, 1998 and 1999. This is my favourite, though – the 1988 edition, the first with our children, but by no means the last. Every other time since then has been with our girls.

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South Coast Track 1982 TAS with babies and infants

South Coast Track with children   Jan 1982

What family would be crazy enough to even dream about taking babies and young children on the astonishingly muddy and thus quite arduous South Coast Trail? Answer: Our family and that of our best friends in Armidale – in fact, it was their idea, so if a prize goes for ingenuity and get-up-and-goism, then they get it, but we agreed to the venture with gusto. We used to have weekly adventures taking the children into the bush, usually finishing after dark – almost on principle – so, why not this one? We forged our plans.

I think we were very fortunate that in that particular week of the earth’s history, the weather was pretty appalling down there, so much so that the plane just couldn’t fly us into Melaleuca inlet. Days went by while we waited for the chance to fly, but we kept being denied the trip.

This little poppet is now a mother – and is teaching her own children to bushwalk (of course).
Now that I’ve seen the whole thing, especially the mud around the Ironbounds, and knowing the huge amount of rain that preceded our visit, I am nothing but thankful that we couldn’t fly. Eventually, frustrated, we drove south, our time having been whittled away, and began the track in.

We would now walk in as far as we could get in half the number of remaining days and walk back out again in the rest. Better than nothing. It just so happened that that meant we avoided the worst – but not all of – the mud. When I did my first face plant with my baby on my back, mostly because I couldn’t control the very heavy weight I was carrying (normal pack plus baby) I was glad it was into gentle bushes and not deep mud!

In nuce, the babies had a wonderful time. Both were crawling, and ours delighted in traversing the ashes of the fires we were allowed to have in those days. She was absolutely filthy.

I think all children rejoiced that baths were not a possibility. The three and five year old loved both the walking and the playing in the sand and water at the end of the day. All of the children, it seems, were born believing that tents were the most exciting possible accommodation life could offer, and bushwalking, the best activity.

After the epic had finished, our friends had to fly out. We took our two on another – tamer – bushwalk, but still with overnighting, before we too, had to leave this wonderful island. We had already been plotting to move house to Tasmania one day, ever since we had first got married. This trip only strengthened us in that resolve.