Corinna | Natureloverswalks

March 11, 2020

Lovers Falls Corinna 2020

I have wanted to visit Lovers Falls – on an unnamed tributary of the Pieman River, 5.3 kms downstream from Corinna – for years, but I lacked confidence in my ability to debut kayak 10.6 kms. I also lacked someone to go with and I was reluctant to do it solo.

Why did I phone Corinna and discuss the matter? I’m not quite sure, but I did so in January, and the very nice guy who spoke to me on the phone assured me that it was not a difficult river and that all sorts of people managed to do the kayak. He told me, however, to wait a bit, as the water was not flowing enough at present to justify the effort. I appreciated both his encouragement and his honesty. Here began a saga.

Two more phone calls followed, one to discuss the problem of my dog, who would more than probably be in the car with me. The guy solved this by saying she could be in the car while I kayaked, as long as I didn’t actually sleep in the Reserve. Brilliant. That was a HUGE load off my mind. I could easily camp near, but not in, the reserve with my faithful adventure buddy who hates me going off without her.

Although it is only March, there were a pleasing number of fungi about

The next two were to line up an actual time. This is a long story, the short of which was that I was told I was on a waiting list for the morning, and confirmed for the afternoon (which I really didn’t want). However, the night before, the guy at the desk encouraged me to try my luck at 9 a.m. prompt, as maybe someone would see my plight and magnanimously elect for a double kayak, leaving me free to have a single. My persistence paid off.

Pieman reflections. This is not my shot, but it is very much what I saw, so I wanted to include it. My camera was carefully sealed in my bag and I was too scared of damaging it to use it en route.

There was a kayak spare. The guy talked me through the safety spiel and helped launch me into the river. I was so relieved. Now I would have de facto company – at least one of the others on the water might observe if I capsized. Also, it was cloudy, which is perfect for photography. Who knows how wretchedly sunny the afternoon might be? I needed to be on the water now. Also, if I was very bad at this, I might need all day. Much better to start early!
Launched on the water, I began paddling downstream. The river had perfect reflections. The silence was palpable. It was utterly peaceful as I sat there, rhythmically going plash, plash with my oars. Surge, surge. It reminded me of the stroke, stroke of swimming in bygone days, except the view was incomparably better. Would I get tired? It seemed a long way to go.

As it turned out, I was not bad at all. I quickly left the other three kayaks behind, and after about thirty minutes, passed another two who had started fifteen minutes ahead. All up, I took forty eight minutes to do the distance, which I had been told would take one and a half hours. (Although this was my first kayak like this, and I was very worried about the boat-handling side of things, I have represented Australia at triathlon, so I guess my swimming arms haven’t forgotten how to exercise.) This was very reassuring, as it would give me oodles of time for photography, so I took fifty minutes shooting. So far, this was an excellent exercise: photography ratio.

I had been ridiculously clumsy trying to exit my kayak on arrival at the landing stairs: I was terrified of accidentally toppling into the water with thousands of dollars’ worth of camera equipment. Now it was time to try to get back in without sinking my precious gear in the process. That ended up easier than getting out. And how would my arms be? Can you go from nothing to one hour forty and still have arms that cooperate? My forearms fatigued a little, but my hands felt the strain the most. I was pushing with one while I pulled with the other. I haven’t a clue if that’s what I was supposed to do, but that’s what came naturally. I was very glad to see Corinna pop up around the corner. I was timing it, so I knew it should be appearing soon if I was maintaining pace. It was nonetheless a relief to know I’d done it.

I exited my kayak a drenched rat. Every time I lifted my limbs to stroke, water poured down the raised one, wetting my coat. Splashes meant that my legs and shoes got wet. I was soaked, but so happy to have done it that I couldn’t care at all. I am now hooked on kayaking!!

Because I got a morning spot, that left me free to drive home after a forest walk in the early afternoon. Now my only question is: Will my arms function tomorrow, or will I be unbearably stiff????
And I have to say in conclusion, I am very impressed with how patient, friendly and helpful the staff members at Corinna were. I drove home with a very positive feeling.
PS. Arms had no stiffness the next day. It seems that all the offtrack bushwalking I do keeps both upper and lower body nicely fit. Bushwalking is SO much better than doing a gym session! 🙂

March 23, 2017July 22, 2018

Donaldson 2017 Mar

Mt Donaldson, Mar 2017. Tarkine Trip Day 2.

With the floating feelings brought on by last night’s magnificent performance at Zeehan’s Gaiety Theatre (Ode to Nellie Melba, with Opera Australia’s Lorina Gore), our merry band of eight walkers from HWC (don’t all walking clubs do opera??) set out to drive to Corinna, where one member would go on a boat cruise, and the remaining seven would climb Mt Donaldson, only about ten minutes’ drive from the lodge. It was going to be another hot day, so we set out as early as was practicable, and didn’t bother pitching our tents until our return.

The walk began across the road from the parking space at the Savage River bridge, a beautifully shady place to park. As per yesterday, the leader didn’t mind my odd little ways, so I was not required to stay with the group, but permitted to climb at my own ‘happy pace’. I felt very free and light.

Sometimes it’s great to be alone and just enjoy nature, moving at a pace that pleases. There’d be plenty of time for socialising as a group later. Because I was allowed to move at workout pace, I arrived at the top in light that had not turned to glare. The world seemed fresh and beautiful in the still-golden tint. The early rainforest part had been wonderfully lush and green; the higher woodland section, an interesting contrast; and the button grass part offered excellent views of the river snaking below, and of other mountains in the distance. I sang as I walked. Life had been stressful last week, but walking and singing and enjoying the wide open scenes with the narrowed world to myself was a perfect antidote to calm me down.

As with Mt Zeehan, we could see the ocean from up there. Poor Mt Donaldson is not only not worth any peak baggers’ points, it is not even considered an official “point of interest” or a “high place”. This is an absurdity, as it was both interesting and high enough (437 ms) to offer a wonderful view in the early light. It is neither an Abelette, nor a Bob Brown. It is just nothing – but it is most worthy of a visit. The 4.3 kms from car to summit took less than an hour, but most groups are not chasing a workout, and would probably want to linger on top longer than this restless jitterbug. I was having fun dancing in the breeze, and returned quite quickly to the car where I got in several glorious chapters of my book, once more enjoying tossing off my other responsibilities for a while. My husband was having a wonderful time with the group.
We had lunch under the canopy of myrtles beside the river in a cool and shady spot before returning to Corinna to pitch our tents and enjoy the environs there.