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Cashs Falls (not) 2018 Apr

Cashs Falls (not), Apr 2018


What is failure? What constitutes success? If you set out to achieve the impossible, realise it can’t be done (or, at least, not under the conditions of that moment), set new goals and achieve them, have you failed or succeeded?


Cashs Gorge from the lookout
Craig Doumauras and I set out on what was, for both of us, a second attempt at Cashs Falls. Now, sure, we could persuade a friend with a drone to just get a shot for us, but what would be the fun or merit in that? No. For us, the need was to see the gorge personally, or not at all. But meanwhile, these falls were winning the protracted game of hide and seek we were all playing.


Lunchspot
Along the Ralphs Falls-Cashs Gorge Track we went, plummeting downhill at the agreed-upon point, where, the contours looked perhaps spaced enough to allow us through the plentiful cliffs of the area. At first, the leads went quite well, although at one point Craig lost his footing and fell a “warning” number of metres, just from a trip. We were in very steep country, and both exercised great care.


The land went from steep to steeper. We were still on the most promising area this side of the river, in terms of the map’s information, but all around us, unmapped cliffy obstacles were accumulating. This was hostile territory. Eventually, there were cliffs to left, right and in front of us. I am not prepared to slide down what I can’t climb back up, so we both agreed that we needed a new tack, and should climb back up the steep slope and try again on the other side.


I am waiting the confirmation of an expert, but I believe this is Athrotaxis laxifolia, a cross between a King Billy and a Pencil Pine. Unbelievably, it is growing in a branch outlet of an ancient Leptospermum!
Off we set once more – around to the Cashs Gorge Lookout, across the river at the top, around the opposite (beautiful) spur, until it was time to descend. Now, when staring at the map from our first turn-around point, I noticed a bluff that might, with a bit of luck, give us a view of our grail, or, even better, produce a passageway that would allow us down to creek level. We agreed to make this bluff a preliminary goal. It was nice to have something to aim for. Given the totally obscure position of our bluff, we did wonder if we could be the first people ever foolish enough to explore this particular territory. That added spice to our adventure. Meanwhile, we were drawing nearer. At the very least, we were going to make this goal, and that felt like an achievement in this terrain. Would it yield a view? Na. That is, we had a gorgeous view, but not of our elusive falls.


 (The bluff is the bluff feature to the NE of the falls depicted above).


Interestingly, this map depicts the falls as being slightly more upstream than the map above from ListMaps. With a canopy that dense, how is one supposed to know?
We sat on our prize, our shapely little bluff that I christened Cashs Bluff, and had an early lunch so as to prolong our time admiring its unique vista. Somewhere below us, tantalisingly close, lay our falls, but there was not even a tiny speck of white to be seen, not a minuscule rush of water to be heard. Given the inaccuracy of the position of some waterfalls on TasMaps, we could not even be sure it was exactly where the map said it would be. It was a mythical beast that would not yield a hint to us today.


Our total height difference for the first climb was more than indicated here. I forgot to turn my tracker on before we were half way down the first descent.
Believe it or not, I haven’t given up on Cashs Falls yet. I want one  more try, and have planned my next route, but for this day, we both felt enough was enough. My track data said that by the time we’d returned to the car, we’d spent four hours on this exercise (including lunch and morning tea). We’d walked 7.5 kms and climbed and dropped over 300 ms’ elevation though thick, unforgiving scrub. It was time to visit a waterfall that was more welcoming of visitors (Harridge); one that would let us do this lovely thing called walking, where you put one foot in front of the other, and got somewhere. As for Cashs Bluff, we gave each other a high five once we breasted the top of the climb out from the bosky tangle. THAT mission was successfully accomplished, and we felt good about it.
For the rest of this day, see www.natureloverswalks.com/harridge-falls/

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Ralphs Falls 2018 Feb

Ralphs Falls, Feb 2018.


I didn’t think that the walk to Ralphs Falls was going to be particularly exciting (being a mere six minutes along a track from the carpark), or that the falls themselves would offer much, being a thin sliver down a brown cliff, but I am one of those thorough types and I like to see everything at least once for myself. I didn’t think Ralphs would be exciting at any time of year, so why not do it in summer? At least we’d had some rain last week. You never know your luck. And if we’d been certain of a big flow somewhere, I can think of much better places to be than a waterfall that has a single narrow line of water dropping into a space that you can’t see below. So, our adventure for this week would be Ralphs Falls, an attempt at Cashs (or at least a viewing of the Cashs Gorge), and then Alberton Falls.
(see http://www.natureloverswalks.com/alberton-falls/ ).

Cascade above Ralphs Falls
Off Carrie and I set. We were both struck by the extreme beauty of the forest. This, for us, outweighed anything the waterfall might or might not bring. The forest was an end in itself. Luckily I had asked Carrie to meet me nice and early, as, even at this early hour, the sun was casting shadows that were a little too bright for good photography. We enjoyed the fairy forest without photographing it. The falls were as ‘exciting’ as we expected,  but we were glad to see the view, and to make the acquaintance of this Fall.

On we continued around the circuit, wondering how long it would take. (Twenty four minutes, actually, which wasn’t a great deal of bang for the driving buck, but don’t worry, I extended it, as you will see). The route remained wonderful, with a sense of space beyond the trees that felt lovely. The forest floor was really open and clear – like a parkland – and we delighted in it. We got to a point where one could go down the steep, unknown spur to try to see the base of Cashs Falls, but we were both filled with curiosity still to discover what could be seen from above. Nine minutes’ walking  after leaving Ralphs Falls, we arrived at the Cashs Gorge viewing platform, where we learned you could see precisely nothing of the actual falls. Hm.


The situation had not been right to go down the first spur that we could have followed (and then traversed in to the base). I had left a few things at home – like suitable clothes if it got any colder, and had forgotten to charge my gps which now read at 8%, bespeaking a crash at any moment. I had had a fire on my property in the late hours of Friday and early hours of Saturday morning, with very little sleep, and was not in a good headspace. Meanwhile, Carrie was wearing sneakers rather than boots, and it looked very steep down there. And, my tripod was sticking out, and would catch on all the bushes. I needed to have a different pack which could protect it if I was going to do THAT kind of bushbashing. However, now that we could see that we couldn’t see, we were disappointed, whilst still rejecting that first route to visibility for the above reasons.


Therefore, I suggested we follow the big spur opposite around to where it might give an opportunity of approach on that side. It was a beautiful route through more surprisingly wonderful forest, and we happened upon a pad, which a handmade sign said belonged to a Rattler Range traverse. We left that though, to do what I wanted. However, my tripod kept getting stuck here, too, once we started to lose contours, so we decided to come back to Cashs on a day where the flow would justify the bash, and on which I had a suitable pack for my tripod. Just in case, it would also be nice to have a gps that wasn’t going to faint. We had no risk of getting lost – I could have drawn a contour map in the dirt had Carrie wanted one – but for knowing whether you are above or below your destination, and other fine points of detail, a gps is of comfort. We went back to the car and fed her before doing the next falls.