Walls of Jerusalem to Lake St Clair, Tasmania. Trek.

1996, new year resolution, do a trek. Where ? I'll go to Tasmania and do a trek in the Walls of Jerusalem. I read about this place in Wild magazine a while back and it seems to be a great place to start.

Paddy Pallin's is an Australian icon store for outdoors adventurers. I walked in to the store and said I wanted to go to Tasmania and do some walking. The salesperson rubbed his hands and I ended up spending a lot of money on all the essential gear.

A Macpac tent, Berghaus ruck sack, Maglite torch, Thermarest sleeping mat, duck down sleeping bag, water filter, Scarpa walking boots being the major articles. A Silva compass and the maps, as well as a book by John Chapman, a famed walker adds to the list.

I looked at the map and traced out a trail from the Walls of Jerusalem to Lake St Clair via a valley of the Mersey river called the Never Never. This looks exciting, my first multi-day walk on my own in Tasmania, yeah ! I had some time available over the Australia day long weekend in January, perfect.

In hindsight, I should not have proceeded with this walk. A weather report would have told me about the rain and front movements. The remoteness of the walk is to be undertaken by an experienced walker / leader with a group of three or more. An escape plan should have been factored in. At the very least I should have waited for flood waters to recede.

Day 1 - Walls of Jerusalem to Dixons kingdom hut

I arranged a transfer from Launceston to the Walls of Jerusalem. A guy from Sheffield does bespoke drop-offs and food drops for us adventurers. He dropped me off and left me in the pouring rain, on my own, nobody around. Realisation: on my own, a wilderness walk, nobody around. I've got the gear; put your new Gortex Paddy Pallin shell on. I remember visiting my cousins in Wales, UK, they called this thing a cagoule.

Oh well, better do this. I'm off, on up an unrelenting ascent to Herod's Gate. Walking up to Herod's Gate, the rain was blasting out horizontally. It is U shaped, forming an escape route for the winds generating between the 'walls'.

This place is full of biblical names, all referring to the dramatic. refer: Parks, Tasmania "Many of the place names throughout the Walls of Jerusalem National Park are derived from the recommendations of surveyor James Scott, and early enthusiast for the area, Reg Hall. The name, "Walls of Jerusalem" was given on an early roll plan by James Scott in 1849. Reg Hall, continuing the biblical allusion, named various features such as Ephraims Gate, Zions Gate, Herods Gate, Pool of Bethesda, Pool of Siloam, Wailing Wall and The Temple."

I read about the Pool of Bethesda and Pool of Siloam, and was looking forward to the described scenery, and perhaps a swim. None of that was to occur. Inside the walls, the area was engulfed in cloud and the rain was pummeling my face with great fury.

I marched head down and sought refuge in a hut at the other end called Dixon's kingdom hut. The Dixons Kingdom Hut was constructed in the mid 1950s by Reg Dixon, a grazier. In the 1980s it was refurbished by a film-maker, Roger Scholes. (The Tale of Ruby Rose ?)

I could not entertain pitching the tent, as it was still bucketing it down, and water was streaming everywhere. The hut though leaking and somewhat gloomy offered some shelter and a modicum of dryness if you chose your spot well.

I laid out my gear and found a bit of a raised area to sleep on. There was a wire strung below the apex of the roof, so thinking about rats I hung my food and wet gear on it.

The night moved in quickly, it was pretty well dark anyway in the day. I was miserable and thinking of abandoning the trip, but had no way of contacting my driver and no surety of anyone coming to visit. This place is remote and not often visited. There is a trip intentions book at the start, no-one had visited for the last 2 weeks. Rain usually only lasts a day or so anyway - in Melbourne. Famous last words ...

Tucked up in my new sleeping bag, I was warm and all is good. 10:00pm a rustling. My new Maglite shines up the hut. A possum, and a posse of possum mates were on the hut wall edge reaching out with their arms trying to grab my food bags. You varmints - SHOO! That scared them. Back to sleep.

10:30ish. Possums are persistent creatures. After a pow-wow outside they decided to give it another go and they weren't going to be scared of a light and commanding voice. This time I got up and reached for a straw broom next to the wall. At this moment My New Maglite shines up and snuffs itself. I put my foot protected by my new bush walking sock instantly in a puddle. I grabbed the broom and swung wildly at what I though was the hut wall villains. Back into bed, sans sock.

11-ish, so I reckon. I sense a presence. I roll over. There is a possum right next to me. Trying to open my ruck sack. Cheeky bugger. I swung furiously with my fists, but he managed to grab something. I do not know what, I do not care. Sleep !!

Day 2 - Lake Meston hut.

In the morning I found that the possum had taken a bag of toiletries and tossed them outside. I picked up the debris and was glad not much else went astray. The area was very wet. I'm headed into an area called Jaffa Vale towards Lake Ball. The whole vale was awash.

The rain slowed a bit and I was able to gauge the beauty of where I am. The pencil pines and the watery mist provide an aged olde-worlde theme to the scene. The hut is not out of place.

From the vale, there is a sweeping view of Lake Ball.

The walking along Lake Ball was quite straightforward. This and lake Adelaide form two shorter sides of an imaginary triangle to my destination.

Lake Adelaide's track was covered in water, in some areas I was wading waist deep, guessing the location of the track. Luckily the trail hugs the lake, and the way is almost straight so a bearing was not too difficult to maintain. Lake Adelaide is huge and goes on seemingly forever through a variety of spindly trees to thicker scrub to open woodland.

Lake Meston trails are on a higher perch so were a welcome reprieve to the flooded trails of Lake Adelaide. I perked up when I reached Lake Meston, I was closing in to my destination after a number of hours and the lakeside track was much more interesting.

Arriving at the hut after over 12 hours of hard work I nearly cried, with exhaustion and elation. My navigation skills are working !
The hut on Lake Meston is a high quality abode built by a fellow by the name of Dick Reed - thank you ! No rats or possums here.

Day 3 - Junction Lake

I had a great night of sleep in this very comfortable hut. I am glad it's here as there really no place to pitch tent and I was rather tired to pitch one any way. It is still raining. pelting it down. I wait around until it subsides.

The walk to Junction lake is through close shrub. My new Goretex shell is getting a real workout, fortunately it works well though I am still wet with sweat and through the face area. The lycra leggings have also proven themselves by drying quickly when wet, yet not being a clammy irritation when wet, and surprisingly keeping the chill at bay.

The tracks all the way from the Walls to Junction Hut are at a mixture of highly visible tracks to discreet markings, validated by strategically placed ribbons and my compass. Here the bush was denser, so care had to be taken not to lose the trail.

I am much more refreshed and buoyed by the shorter walk today. Junction lake hut is on a nice grassy area. Junction lake is a small pretty lake nestled in front of a densely shrubbed escarpment.

After resting, I thought I'd check out the Never Never. I left my stuff up here, just carrying a small day pack. To get to the Never Never, there is a steep bit of scrub bashing to do. Pandanus, whose sharp leaves shaped like knives are very adept at slicing through the skin of any passing walker. I was no excluded from a slashing, which as applied to my hands.

Never Never = Never !
Perhaps it is called this because it's a kind of no-mans land, a mixture of boggy button grass and river with not much in the way of tracks. On step in I fell into a hole and immediately went in up to my neck in water. The river had broken its shallow banks. The river was in flood. No way was I going to cross it.

I retraced my steps. Despair. After all this effort, what do I do now. I am alone, it's chucking it down, river in flood, trails covered in water. Does one cry ? My ego says grown men don't, but I sure came close. My mind was racing with dramatics: no pathetic fallacy here - this is real.
Best solution: go to bed and sleep on it.

Day 4 - Never Never on the southern side.

I was sitting on the grass, cooking breakfast and trying to dry some clothes out. Not that the clouds promised anything in the way of letting up with the rain. I stared at the maps trying to work out my escape plan. Try to get to Mersey Forest Road and hope a car comes, wait until the rain stops and the rivers subside or ????

Luck would have it. Another two walkers joined me. They walked in from the Mersey river road via the Moses creek track. I said to them there was no way they were going down the valley into the Never Never. They were in the same boat as me, requiring an exit at Lake St Clair.

We put our heads together and decided to look at the prospect of crossing at the Junction lake exit point. We went down to the lake and found a promising crossing point. The water was fast flowing but the bed firm and level. No rocks, branches or logs to get snagged on. With packs carried on our heads we carefully waded across one at a time.

On the other side of Junction Lake, we walked along to see what the thunderous noise was. A churning, foaming angry waterfall. Glad none of us slipped and drifted down to and over it.

The Never Never was no longer a button grass waterlogged swamp. Rather it was a pleasant amble on a bark lined forest floor.

I loved this walk. The moss lined rocks and trees. The smell of the forest interior, the noise of the fast flowing river and waterfalls. The rain penetrated occasionally but the tree canopy offered some shelter. More waterfalls, Hartnett Falls ,D'Alton falls.

No more rain. Hut. Wash in the river, and I needed one !

Day 5 Lake St Clair, out.

The perils of walking came to roost today. A lady had badly sprained an ankle and fractured her shin, twisting on a tree root and falling with here heavy pack. Fortunately she was on the Overland track proper so help as at hand from Parks Tasmania.

No rain today. Of course it's my last day. I was planning to walk all the way back via Lake St Clair, but after talking to the ranger at the hut I felt it best to catch the ferry. The walk along the lake apparently is a bog and not really anything special. So I radioed my pick up request, and after a feed and a ponder I was off home.

Cushion plants - hundreds of years old, love them.

After my return, I was yakking to my mates from the Melbourne Nordic ski club. Instead of saying things like "you crazy bastard" I got, "hey Stuart, we want to come on your next trip". I am not the only one then, and I'll be glad to enjoy the company of like minded friends.

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Adventures in 1996