The Overland Track. Ranked as one of the greatest walks in the world.
Colin, Kelli, and I flew to Tasmania during Christmas and discovered what all the hubbub was about.
The 82 kilometer trail starts at Cradle Mountain National Park and ends at the majestic Lake St. Clair. The journey between the two points is full of beautiful views, great wildlife encounters, and anywhere from 10 to 50 other hikers that become your short term family along the way.
Our journey started a couple of days before we hit the trail. As our end point was Lake St. Clair, we ditched our rental vehicle at the car-park there and hitched a ride for the three hour drive to Cradle Mountain National Park. Kelli and I ended up packed into the cramped back seat of a tiny rental car (with gear on our laps) driven by two fellow Americans. They were generous enough to go about an hour out of their way to drop us off at our destination. Colin, on the other hand, had a more colorful experience hitch hiking. He started where we did and with the help of two Israeli couples, a local Tasmanian woman on her way home from work, camping out at a secret campsite, and a French couple that insist we visit them sometime this year, he arrived the following day.
We spent the next day preparing for our trip and then it was time to start our journey...
Catch a bus to the trail head and you're off!
The popularity of this trail has quite an impact of the environment. One way the park manages this is by building kilometers and kilometers of boardwalks. It seemed like a bit of overkill at first, but after a few days of hiking through mud and rain, the boardwalks are a very welcome sight.
Wind. Rain. Heat. Freezing cold nights. We really experienced all the weather Tasmania had to offer....well, besides the snow. Apparently less then a week before we started our journey the trail was covered in snow due to a blizzard. Glad we didn't have to deal with that as well!
There were a number of peaks along the way. On our first day we climbed Cradle Mountain (pictured below). Day 3 was Colin's ascent up Mt. Ossa, the highest point in Tasmania (two pictures below). He had to make a quick retreat after summiting due to a freak lightning storm that literally shook the hut a few kilomaters down the trail that Kelli and I were happily drinking our hot tea in as he faced the torrential downpour.
Every night we stayed in huts. This meant that we didn't get the best sleep as there was snoring and sleep talking. This also meant that there was a healthy dose of body odor whenever we were inside one of the huts. But this is also where the community feel of the experience was born. There was about 20-30 different people that we got to know and saw every evening. By the end of the trip it felt a little like a family. Everyone was watching out for each other, mindful of whether or not someone had turned up at the hut yet. Kelli, Colin, and I were known as "the three Americans". There were also, "The Two Girls", "The San Franciscos", "The Family". We celebrated together at the end of each day and shared stories and experiences.
We took six days to complete the hike. On our last day, due to illness and bad knees, Kelli and I took a ferry across Lake St. Clair to the end of the track while Colin speed hiked the final day's journey. We met up with our new friends for a beer and a big plate of french fries and wished a happy journey to each other as we departed.
The three of us headed to Hobart, explored some of the local area, celebrated Christmas together, flew back to Kenilworth, and said our own temporary goodbyes as Colin and I would soon bid farewell to our Australian home in Queensland and journey south the Victoria.
It was the perfect way to end the first half of our Australian experience.
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