Hiking Tasmania's South Coast Track - the inside story!

Chapter One – Together Everyone Achieves More – By Barbara Winterbourne

Oh my gosh, I’ve hit the send button on another adventure…… am I nuts…maybe.  Who would book a trip like this when you have a massive phobia of leeches??? As I get older, the sense of adventure is ever-present but to my body, I have to say…..come on…just one more…you can do it.  That’s what happened to me about 12 months ago when I signed up to trek the mighty South Coast Track, one of Tasmania’s most challenging walks.

 Some may ask,…

“What makes people like us want to do this time and time again”?  Endurance trekking is a hard gig…day after day, kilometre after kilometre, sometimes very early starts, wet day after wet day, wet tent, same pair of wet socks for six days in a row, the same wet boots for the duration, sometimes no toilet, constantly being filthy (thank you Tea Tree oil and water), same smelly clothes that if given the chance would have grown legs and run to the washing machine begging to be clean. It’s the art of “being comfortable with being uncomfortable” and looking way beyond all these things.  Endurance trekking takes you to the outer limits and well beyond…on an emotional journey. You start as one person and then spend the next few weeks when you come back getting to know that new person you have become….a bit tougher, easier going, take it as it comes and super resilient and depending on what you have accomplished, feeling almost indestructible! Worrying about small details may mean you never go beyond the limits or boundaries that you have set for yourself and that means missing out on something extraordinary.

So, back to the journey of getting to the start of the South Coast Track…  After overcoming illness and a foot injury I was back out there to train for the many months to December and train hard with my teammates. I wasn’t giving up now.

An amazing window of opportunity occurred during the covid-19 pandemic and our group of tough trekkers landed at Melaleuca Airport on the 5th December, 2020 ready for a journey in the remote wilderness. Ready to face whatever obstacle would be placed in front of us.  The simple art of putting up your tent is very satisfying and it becomes your safe haven after a rigorous day on the track. Our first day gave us a taste of what to expect…knee-deep water, slippery boardwalks and strong winds and we loved it! For me, over the next days, I slipped on boardwalks, got blown off boardwalks, blown over at the top of the Ironbound Ranges and accidentally missed a step on a boardwalk and did a massive face plant into a cushion plant….think 87kgs denting a cushion plant. Over the 10 days, we faced hours in canopies of lush wet forests (think leeches), dry forests and climbed over and under branches that wanted to grab you and say “stay awhile with me and just breathe”. 4km beach walks allowed us to empty our minds and just walk whilst being entertained by the sea foam that raced along beside us. Button grass plains gave us respite and speed. River crossings were exciting and challenging along with the daily assault of knee/thigh deep sticky mud. Ascents made us work harder, whilst descents were punishing and relentless but forgotten by the day’s end… Blisters for me in the last few days made it very tough and inward tears had to be kept at bay till the end…..no time to lose focus.

I have time now to reflect on what our team had done and faced. I was inspired greatly by them all - Jo, Michele, Kalina, Rachael, Christine, Karen and Megan. Thank you!

Chapter Two - It was an epic adventure - By  Rachael Jane Chin

We had been training for at least six months for this trip, and we needed it. With bad weather on the way, and confident that Diamonds leaders Jo and Michelle would have helped us pack the right gear, our Tassie guides skipped the pre-departure meeting. Instead, they hurried us onto small planes so that we could fly to our starting point, Melaleuca, before the storm hit. Jo’s cheerful note a day earlier about putting up tents in the rain was no joke.

Below us, the remoteness of the South Coast Track was laid out by passing immense, cloud wreathed mountains. We landed, set up our first camp, took a pleasant stroll and ate in a hut. The next morning would be the last one with dry boots and socks.    

What followed were eight days of walking along windswept plains filled with button grass and tea tree bushes, gusts of wind so strong they swept us off our feet, marching up hills, through puddles, streams and tides, drinking fresh, tannin-stained water, treading quietly through peaceful forests, stepping out in wonder onto sandy beaches, balancing on boulders on rocky beaches, summiting the Ironbound Range in weather so wild a group photo was only possible on the way down, making it through the six-hour obstacle course of cold, beautiful rainforest that is the Ironbound decent – and that was before lunch. The final approach to the next campsite was never easy. Fast-moving streams, sheltered bits of forest that teased us until we learnt we weren’t there yet, rocks and boulders as round as beach balls draped with wet seaweed and rocky cliffs guarded many.

At first, the presence of leeches was whispered about in panicked tones. “I thought I saw one over there!” was said many times for the first couple of nights. We became a little paranoid, scanning logs and the water’s edge, but not for long. By the second half of the trip we were flicking leeches off without comment, even those we found in our tents.

And the mud! It appeared after the rest day when the weather finally became fine. One by one we all became stuck in the mud and laughed in the sunshine. Regular climbs of steep hills in the second half of the track came with crystal clear views of the Ironbound and other surrounding mountains.  

No matter the mud, the rain or the number of fallen branches blocking the path, one of the guides would race ahead to prepare our next meal and cup of tea. Breakfast time was always brisk as we had to pack up and get moving, but every lunch and dinner came with funny stories and lots of laughs.

It was tough, and the team spirit kept us going when the challenges threatened to overwhelm us. No one breezed through this epic adventure. As Lou, one of the Tassie guides said, the South Coast Track humbles everyone.

Chapter Three - The Return – by Kalina Christova

Seven very tough Diamonds, three amazing guides and I just completed the South Coast Trek in Tasmania.

It was tough. It was also amazing.

There is no other way to describe it. Those who have done it will forever remember the descent from the Ironbound, how it can take 13 hours to complete 10 kilometres, the river crossings, the waist-deep mud, putting on sodding wet cold socks in sodding wet shoes every morning. If you are lucky you may have had good weather all the way through. We were only half lucky. The first five days were exactly what you are told to expect - icy gale-force winds, sideways rain, small hail and low temperatures. The second half resembled more a tropical holiday - clear blue skies, crystal clear waters and humidity, oh the humidity. Regardless of the weather you get, the wet feet and shoes are guaranteed from day one.  

There is also the beauty of the place which stays with you. The sharp silhouettes of Eastern Arthur Ranges and Federation Peak as you fly over them on the way to Melaleuca. The golden colour of the button grass and the bronze/mahogany colour of the tannin-stained water. The wild untouched beaches, each one perfectly unique. The dark brooding power of the Southern Ocean and the timelessness of waves crashing over rocks shaping and moulding everything around you. You are sitting at the edge of the world contemplating its vastness.

It took us nine days to complete the trek, including a rest day in the middle following the Ironbound. Ten, if you count the day on which we flew into Melaleuca.

There is a special bond which develops when you spend this amount of time in these conditions with a group of people. You are there as a group and you need to work together so that everyone member of the group can reach the finish line. Whether it’s hanging back to walk beside the tail end for a chat and some moral support, or it’s helping set up the tent of the person who came in last in the pouring rain after walking for 15 hours, or pulling the person in front of you out of waist-deep mud or simply giving someone a hug when they really needed one. All these acts, no matter how small, help to weave the experience and the memories and tighten that bond.

You’ve done it - not the longest but certainly one of the toughest treks in Australia under your belt. You are flying.

Now you are home. The gear has been washed and packed away. The scratches on your legs are healing and fading. You’ve managed to get all the dirt out from under your fingernails. It’s so nice to get those hugs from partners/husbands/kids/grandkids and to share your stories. Yet, you sit at the table looking at the people around you and realise that they don't know, don't understand, what you’ve just done. They talk about the latest drama at work or at school but it all hits an invisible wall. The drama seems so insignificant. In your mind, you are still back there.  You feel like you don't truly fit back in. You miss your tribe.

You need something to focus on.

So you open up the laptop, book your next training session and get planning….. 

“Those who drink the button grass water, always return”