Sumac Regional Reserve

BACK TO THE CAVE MAN Story and pics by Ian Smith I’m meeting Gerry today, a 65 year old Tasmanian who’s seen most of the island state, way more than I’ll ever cover in a lifetime. I’m tagging along with him to Julius Creek, a semi-obscure destination that he wants to return to – and who am I to argue? It’s mildly famous among the bushwalking fraternity because it has caves so I’m expecting to be in a dark place sometime in the ensuing hours. We’re somewhat tardy in heading out and I’m not sure exactly what we’ll be doing other than the caves, I’m just happy to have a guide. Our first stop is Edith Creek general store/cafĂ©/service station – you name it they’ll have a go. In fact, talking to one of the owners later, he’s managed to start a profitable business utilizing the wood that the forestry company doesn’t want, finding many uses for the initially rejected timber. Gerry however, is taking me to what the tourist image of the fabled Tarkine is, pristine Gondwana forest swathed in lichen and moss. There’s a new loop road not far from Edith Creek. Actually, it’s not new, but the sealing of it and promotion as a tourist destination is. Where Gerry’s taking me will not be on any serious promoter’s list in the foreseeable future though; I figure that out as we turn off one road onto another, then another and it’s a dirt road in the midst of becoming overgrown by forest with grasses and reedy-type plants as high as the bonnet running down the middle. For some unknown reason I thought we were headed to a less obscure destination but here, the only way you know you’ve arrived is if you happen to spot the one lone piece of pink ribbon affixed to small branch. Had Gerry not mentioned it I’d have driven right by but there’s also a slightly wide part of the road, so called, where, after several backwards and forwards motions, you can actually turn around, which is just as well because I wouldn’t fancy reversing up our route. This walk is as close to virgin as you can get; the track, such as it is, can only be followed if you keep your eyes out for the ribbons because there’s little wear and tear in some places, especially where a log has fallen down and alternate routes have been sought. This is wilderness in it truest form and we make our way down and across a small watercourse, so obscure you can walk across it and not get the top of your shoes wet. Fungi and moss love it down here beneath the tertiary growth of this forest plus tree ferns and there’s also some large leaved plant with fruit that look just like blueberries scattered liberally across the forest floor. Gerry reliably informs me that they’re Tasmanian native pepper and I later look it up and see that it has attracted interest in medical research because it retards growth of Staph Aureus and other nasties. (continued)
BACK TO THE CAVE MAN Story and pics by Ian Smith I’m meeting Gerry today, a 65 year old Tasmanian who’s seen most of the island state, way more than I’ll ever cover in a lifetime. I’m tagging along with him to Julius Creek, a semi-obscure destination that he wants to return to – and who am I to argue? It’s mildly famous among the bushwalking fraternity because it has caves so I’m expecting to be in a dark place sometime in the ensuing hours. We’re somewhat tardy in heading out and I’m not sure exactly what we’ll be doing other than the caves, I’m just happy to have a guide. Our first stop is Edith Creek general store/cafĂ©/service station – you name it they’ll have a go. In fact, talking to one of the owners later, he’s managed to start a profitable business utilizing the wood that the forestry company doesn’t want, finding many uses for the initially rejected timber. Gerry however, is taking me to what the tourist image of the fabled Tarkine is, pristine Gondwana forest swathed in lichen and moss. There’s a new loop road not far from Edith Creek. Actually, it’s not new, but the sealing of it and promotion as a tourist destination is. Where Gerry’s taking me will not be on any serious promoter’s list in the foreseeable future though; I figure that out as we turn off one road onto another, then another and it’s a dirt road in the midst of becoming overgrown by forest with grasses and reedy-type plants as high as the bonnet running down the middle. For some unknown reason I thought we were headed to a less obscure destination but here, the only way you know you’ve arrived is if you happen to spot the one lone piece of pink ribbon affixed to small branch. Had Gerry not mentioned it I’d have driven right by but there’s also a slightly wide part of the road, so called, where, after several backwards and forwards motions, you can actually turn around, which is just as well because I wouldn’t fancy reversing up our route. This walk is as close to virgin as you can get; the track, such as it is, can only be followed if you keep your eyes out for the ribbons because there’s little wear and tear in some places, especially where a log has fallen down and alternate routes have been sought. This is wilderness in it truest form and we make our way down and across a small watercourse, so obscure you can walk across it and not get the top of your shoes wet. Fungi and moss love it down here beneath the tertiary growth of this forest plus tree ferns and there’s also some large leaved plant with fruit that look just like blueberries scattered liberally across the forest floor. Gerry reliably informs me that they’re Tasmanian native pepper and I later look it up and see that it has attracted interest in medical research because it retards growth of Staph Aureus and other nasties. (continued)
(continued) It’s almost sad to be leaving, though that is pushed into the background at the thought of seeing the exposures later on. Gerry is now taking me to the Julius River Conservation Reserve, a more tourist oriented track with toilets no less. It’s the same river, just further upstream. Once there, there’s an easy-to-follow half hour stroll through more forest, crossing the water twice via well-made bridges. It’s a relief in one way not to have to scramble somewhere as I have in previous days and earlier this day. Normal walking is not something I’ve done in a forest for some time. I get off on manferns (dicksonia antarctica), locating a couple growing out horizontally over the river that have much appeal and can’t stop taking pictures for five minutes. I remember one at Horseshoe Falls in Mount Field National Park that someone had photographed well and I was trying to emulate that shot. There’s much to recommend this half hour stroll through the woods; it’s pretty, it’s civilized, but you still get that wilderness feeling.

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