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The Overland Track

a week alone in the Tasmanian wilderness

By Stories She Saw

February 11^th, 2022

The Overland Track is Australia's premier multi-day alpine hike and probably the country's most popular. It's a 65km+ trek through Cradle Mountain-Lake St Clair National Park, which sits in pristine Tasmanian Wilderness World Heritage Area. You traverse ancient landscapes: valleys formed from long lost glaciers; rainforests from the Pangaea period; peety buttongrass moors and towering eucalypt forests. There’s no phone reception, few manmade structures and little evidence of the life I’d come to escape.

It's been on my list for some time, but the allure of overseas travel was always brighter, so the covid-enforced travel restrictions provided the perfect excuse to plan a trip. It’s typically completed in 6-7 days (I did six) and you carry everything on your back with a ‘leave no trace’ policy: what goes in must go out.

I was equal parts nervous and excited to commence the hike. It had been six years since my last multi-day hike (the rather more bougie Three Capes, also down in Tassie) and my strength and fitness had decreased significantly since then, thanks most recently to near-two years of lockdown. But I was craving serious time away from the rat race as well as a decent mental and physical challenge.

The Overland Track, with its remote wilderness and notoriously difficult conditions called my name.

When the clouds parted/rose on Day 1 I had a beautiful glimpse at what was to come over the next six days

Day 1: Ronny Creek to Waterfall Valley Hut (10.7kms)

I was picked up at 6.30am from my accommodation in Launceston and, along with 12 other hikers, driven to the start of the track in Cradle Mountain National Park. Day 1 is supposedly the hardest day: your pack is the heaviest (mine was a ridiculous 25.5kgs – about 10kgs above ideal – partly because I was hiking on my own so had to carry everything myself, partly because I packed too many snacks and partly because my gear isn’t designed for hiking) and you encounter the largest mountain of the hike.

I was happy to go at my own speed. Part of the allure of hiking on my own was that I could set my own pace and stop as often as required. I also like to take a lot of photos and sometimes talk to myself, so it worked out well. (Although the theory of 'my own speed' was an easier pill to swallow than the reality!)

The bus dropped us at the Cradle Mountain Visitor’s Centre at around 9am and after a quick briefing and signed checklist (the weather on the Overland changes quickly and unexperienced or ill-prepared hikers have died on the track) I was on my way.

Unfortunately, the weather on Day 1 was miserable. Although humid, the clouds closed in and it was impossible to see Cradle Mountain. Having seen it (and summited it!) before, I wasn’t too bothered, and instead tried to enjoy the near-perfect hiking conditions. Which I did… even when I had to pull myself and my 25.5kg pack up the mountain using chains (cue my solid rendition of Tina Arena’s I’m in Chains!) It was more as I was being constantly passed by other hikers, be they Overland or just day hikers, that I started to question what I was doing. Those that know me know that I can be, ahem, somewhat competitive… This whole coming last/being left behind thing was not as enjoyable as I imagined. Mind you, there were no prizes for finishing first (I did keep reminding myself of this) and I managed to settle into a steady and enjoyable pace, even if my mind was often battling against me.

Not happy that I have to haul myself and my 25.5kg pack up a mountain using chains

More happy halfway up and with 'chain' related songs in my head

All of that was worth the view...

Questioning the role of my bruised ego, I kept on putting one foot in front of the other, admiring the views when the clouds parted, and talking to wildlife (hey, skinky-dink!), eventually arriving at Waterfall Valley Hut 6 hours and 41 minutes after I'd departed Ronny Creek, the start of the Overland.

My timing was actually a blessing, as the clouds parted briefly in the afternoon and I was able to capture stunning vistas out across the entire Cradle Mountain-Lake St Clair National Park and the neighbouring Granite Tor Conservation Area.

Ronny Creek - the start of the Overland Track

Looking back down to Crater Lake, which I had climbed up to, halfway around and above mostly without realising that it was there!

Looking up at Cradle Mountain... somewhere in there...

Looking out across to the Fury Divide

A spot of rainforest between Ronny Creek and Crater Lake

Love some industrious spiders!

Crater Lake - there it is!

Love me a gorgeous gum trunk

More industrious spiders!

Passing Kitchen Hut and Cradle Mountain and onto a little quieter Overland Track (away from day hikers that head up to Cradle Mountain)

I didn't take as many flora photos as I would have liked, but loved this Woolly Teatree

Looking back to Kitchen Hut, an emergency shelter near Cradle Mountain that had to be extended to a second story because of the deep snow in winter

The blues of the Tasmanian alpine region

Looking down into Fury Gorge

I honestly just love the blues and greens and greys of alpine areas

Duckboards are life!

I set up my tent on one of the tent platforms (built to reduce the impact on the environment), relaxed with a delicious fake-berocca (you can't tell me that the Coles ones aren't much better than the real ones) and watched the clouds move over Barn Bluff. Then it was inside to the very nice Waterfall Valley Hut for dinner. Opened in 2020, Waterfall Valley Hut sleeps 34 (there are bunkswithout mattresses, designed for your sleeping mat and bag), has a gas heater, mud room (for the evenings when it's wet and/or snowy, as well as somewhere for campers to keep their food as the possums are relentless) and a living area with incredible views across the button grass.

I had dehydrated meals for all of my dinners but last minute scrambling for room while packing saw me open all the dinners and put them (separately!) into snap lock bags. So look, I think I had lamb and mushroom risotto for dinner on the first night? I remember realising that the best-before date on the package was 2020, but thinking that dehydrated food couldn't expire. Let me tell you, it does. And that meal was not a vibe. I ended up discarding the second serving of the "risotto" and letting future Jess worry about the lack of dinner servings in a week's time.

At the first campsite. Not dead.

One of the several sleeping rooms in the New Waterfall Valley Hut.

Incredible detailing on each bunk bed of local flora

The dining/social area - and gas heater! - in the New Waterfall Valley Hut.

New Waterfall Valley Hut. I snapped this after I'd packed up my tent, but I was sleeping to the left of the blue tent.

First morning on the track!

The view from my chair when I arrived into camp. The bottom of Barn Bluff was there, but the clouds never rose enough to see the dolorite columns making up the summit.

My morning view as soon as I unzipped my tent. Barn Bluff should be there somewhere...

Day 2: Waterfall Valley to Lake Windermere (9.6kms)

I woke early, hopeful of views of Barn Bluff, but alas it was another foggy, foggy day. I do recommend that you google photos of the bluff though - is quite impressive, I hear. Day 2 was the shortest day, which was a relief as I slept poorly on account of wondering what the hell I'd signed up for and whether I was better to turn around rather than continue for another five days with such a heavy pack and low fitness. At some late hour I resolved that worrying was also for Future Jess to... worry about, so I metaphorically put on my big girl pants and rolled over to finally sleep.

I packed up my tent, luckily just before the rain fell, and ate a delicious breakfast (I'd packed alternating porridge or granola both with milk and protein powder - the breakfast of champions and those trying hard to put on a champion face) before heading off via Old Waterfall Hut, a structure built in the 1950s for hikers continuing south from Cradle Mountain.

Old Waterfall Valley hut in the morning mist

Old Waterfall Valley Hut was built in the 1950s. I presume the Ajax in the window was a more recent addition.

Old Waterfall Valley Hut

The bedroom/only room of Old Waterfall Valley Hut. The mice weren't polite enough to show themselves in this photo. Shame.

A little Bennett's Wallaby joey. CUTE!

Mum none too pleased with my paparazzing

Only wombat I saw of the trip! (Though that might have been account of my early nights)

A misty morning start to Day 2

Waterfall Valley Hut in the distance as I looked back after only a few hundred meters on the track (also, duckboards are life!)

A tarn just by the track. There were lots of these around, but because of the season, many were empty. They all had brown water due to the buttongrass nearby, but still okay to drink if filtered.

Another overland hiker - Issy - in the misty distance

A sheet of Tasmanian-endemic scoparia

Who doesn't love some moss?

A lovely view down into... a valley? I think it was the (apparently) spectacular Waterfall Valley cirque. The wind coming over the top here was incredible and I didn't stop long, lest I be blown over.

Love me a gum tree. This was an endemic Snow Peppermint.

Duckboards through some healthland and alpine gums

The only side trip on Day 2 was to Lake Will (although some people backtrack to hike Barn Bluff, weather pending), which I was hoping to be my lunch spot, but due to the weather (and a hidden Barn Bluff, again!) I only momentarily stopped there, chatting to a few oldies that were on the bougie Overland Huts Track (wine and cheese every night, hot showers and 5-10kg packs!) who were very pleased to see me after thinking I would bow out with such a heavy pack. Ha! Glad that I continued! Couldn't let down the oldies!

Despite the dreary weather, the landscape was incredible, and the fog suited the location. Much of the track is on duckboard (two planks next to one another) or boardwalk, and I was just in love with vistas of the trail disappearing into the misty distance.

On the way to Lake Will

Some smaller lakes near Lake Will

We all know my love for duckboard (an older, rotting, path peaking out from underneath)

Coming into Lake Will

Love.

The short of Lake Will with a hidden Barn Bluff behind

Lake Windermere, nearly at the hut!

Arriving at Windermere Hut just after midday, I decided to spend the night in the hut due to a planned early start the next (and longest) day. But before then! Swim time! (And lunch time, but swim time is much more exciting!)

Lake Windermere is almost 2km in length, and apparently there is an island in the middle with a sign-in book. I thought about swimming across to it, but not sure it's ever a good idea to swim on your own in freezing water... Regardless, I went for a paddle (the first of many swims during the week) and then settled in for a much tastier dinner of something dehydrated - nasi goreng, maybe? In my rush to reduce space, I forgot to label the snaplock bags - and retired to bed to read up about the next day's hike and another chapter of my book.

Windermere Hut sleeps 24 in a big room, with a second communal room for cooking and socialising then an outdoor patio to dry gear (that still gets damp, I learnt!). I shared my bed platform with someone else, but I think it was actually designed for three sleepers, so there was plenty of room between us. Late in 2021 construction on a new Windermere Hut commenced and looking at the plans it promises to be faaaan-see. This 'old' Windermere Hut will remain as a ranger hut, I believe.

The communal socialising and dining room at Windermere Hut. The heater was only to be turned on when the weather was below 10 degrees, and due to the humidity, we were well above that.

A corner of the sleeping room. I slept on the bottom right, where the blue sleeping bag is. (That's not mine, I'd already packed up and my bunk buddy was in the process of doing the same)

Windermere Hut, set in the bush back a km or so from the lake.

Very proud of myself for going for a swim!

Swimming in the lake! Photographic proof that it happened!

Day 3: Windermere to New Pelion (15.1kms)

Another humid and wet day, I made an early start as I was concerned about making the distance and surviving the hills (over 15kms including side-trips). I needn't have worried as there's about 14-15 hours of daylight in Tassie during summer and I really wasn't as slow as I thought. But that's always easier to realise in hindsight!

Day 3 was the wettest - and windiest! - day. There was one section towards the start of the day where my pack cover was blown off and I almost fell off a cliff running to catch it. Not ideal. But again, it was warm, so actually quite a delight to hike. I spent most of the day in my wet weather jacket and pants and my shoes are waterproof, so I barely felt a thing!

Low alpine scrub for the win

Many of the signage poles were rotting and draped with moss - I thought them very picturesque

The Overland Track

A Scoparia close up

Another blanket of scoparia with the Forth Valley in the background

The Overland Track

The Overland Track

Not massively pleased to be hiking in the wet - actually, that's a lie. I was having a great time! It was still quite warm and I was covered in wet weather gear. It was an adventure!

I spent the morning wandering through buttongrass moor and alpine scrub, much of it on duckboards (duckboards are life!), then stopped for a snack at the Forth Valley Lookout. I arrived just in time to see the clouds come over Mt Oakleigh, and then watched as the mist magically enveloped the eucalypt forest beneath us.

The mist enveloping the Forth Valley

From there on in Day 3 was dominated by myrtle-beech rainforest and I was obsessed with the disappearance of the duckboards and the rocky, rooty path in its place. I have notoriously bad ankles and balance and coordination, so I was slow moving across the constant hazards, but it was fun feeling the burn in my legs and butt. Thank goodness I'd borrowed/stolen my sister-in-law's hiking poles for the trip. Really not sure how I would have survived without them! Again, it was perfect, moody weather for the rainforest and although I put away my camera due to the rain, I still had my phone out every few steps to capture the scene.

Fell in love (with the look of!) the rocky path as it crept into the distance

There's a path in there somewhere! (Thank goodness for the orange markers!)

Beech Orange fungus!

A wet, rocky track

Hello, track? Is that you I'm looking for?

The Overland Track

Not sure who did this or how long it had been there, but it gave me a great laugh!

The Overland Track

The Overland Track

The Overland Track

The Overland Track

The Overland Track

Sometimes it's easier to go through!

The Overland Track

The Overland Track

I stopped at the Forth River for lunch

Hiking through Frog Flats - the lowest part of the track

A tiger snake right by the track just as I came into camp

Finally the rainforest gave way to sparse eucalypt, and the skies cleared to a perfect framing of Mt Oakleigh right by New Pelion Hut. Unfortunately I didn't get any photos of the hut, mostly owing to my exhaustion and obsession with the view from the balcony. I did go for another swim by Old Pelion Hut though, staying under the freezing water long enough to rejuvenate my leg, back and shoulder muscles. Then it was dinner on the helipad with a view of Mt Oakleigh and off to the tent for a blissful night's sleep (despite the nosy echidna hovering by my outer fly).

Mount Oakleigh! There you are! And HOW you are!

Hey little wallaby

A beautiful - but FREEZING - swimming hole

I took this photo of Mt Oakleigh from the balcony of New Pelion Hut. It clearly had a gorgeous view!

Walking back from my swim near Old Pelion Hut (the only time I hurt myself on the track was stumbling on some rocks near here. Serves me right for being in thongs)

My tent just after I'd set it up. All the other tents in this photo belonged to weekend hikers that had come in via the Arm Track and were attempting to summit Mt Oakleigh or Ossa or both.

Old Pelion Hut

Heating my water for dinner on the helipad with a pretty spectacular view

Day 4: New Pelion to Kia Ora (12.2km) aka Mountain Day

Most everything about Day 4 was great. Upon waking a gorgeous, clear blue sky greeted me, and my porridge hit the spot. I packed up, not in any huge rush as I wasn't planning on summiting either of the two mountain side trips, though I did head to the saddle between Mt Ossa and Mt Doris, and as I was filling my water for the day from the rainwater tank I bumped into half a dozen joggers who had left Ronny Creek that morning at 3.30am and were running the Overland, catching the ferry from Narcissus at 3.30pm. Cray-zee.

A few people I'd been chatting to along the way were spending an extra day at Pelion and summiting Mt Oakleigh (not on the Overland, but a popular mountain for people to climb, all the same). They tried to convince me to stay, but I didn't want to put pressure on myself to do a double day later in the week, so I declined and prepared to head up the mountain. Day 4 was the last major mountain on the hike and I was ready! But first! A slight detour to a nearby creek and suspension bridge, because SUSPENSION BRIDGE.

The view from my tent when I first woke. Love.

Suspension bridge!

Mt Pelion West across the moors by New Pelion Hut

The Arm Track, Mt Oakleigh, New Pelion Hut

Oh hey little guy!

Wanna come on a hike?

I won't lie, I mentally struggled on Day 4, and yet, it was all in my head (funny that...!) I ended up leaving the campsite quite late, as I was chatting to hikers that weren't doing the Overland but came in via a separate track to hike Mt Oakleigh and Mt Ossa, so I was a little anxious from the start that I had fallen behind. Again, it was probably 10.30 and so I had at least eight hours of sunlight left - plenty of time - yet I was still kicking myself.

The first half of the day's hike was all uphill, and while I don't mind that, it turns out that my fitbit wasn't accurate at judging the distance (it couldn't connect to GPS due to the remoteness). I kept climbing and resting, climbing and resting, through incredible rainforest with very impressive natural, and treacherous, paths of rocks and roots. I climbed further and further knowing that Pelion Gap, the junction for heading up Mt Ossa (Tassie's highest mountain) or Mt Pelion East (also a high mountain) was 4kms from the campsite. So imagine my surprise and disappointment after I had been hiking over two hours and yes, stopping for a photo and to top up my water from the stream here and there, to see that I was only 2.3km in. What the actual. No.

So angry Jess started mouthing off at the mountains and the skinks and the bloody rocky paths, only to come out onto Pelion Gap less than five minutes later. My fitbit had significantly underestimated the distance that I'd hiked! And let me tell you, I was relieved! Angry Jess is not a great version of Jess. I dumped my pack at a spot designated for just that, chatted to the oldies who had just arrived back from the 'Japanese Garden' on the way to the Mt Ossa summit, ate a few handfuls of nuts and chocolate and dried fruit (fyi - I packed WAY too many nuts, chocolate and dried fruit) and generally calmed down. I also realised that it was probably much better that my fitbit underestimated the distance rather than overestimated it. I would hate to have hit the 4km mark on my wrist and still be plodding uphill.

Rainforest by Douglas Creek, just out of New Pelion Hut

The Overland Track

Narrowleaf Triggerplant

Mountain Pinkberry

The Overland Track

The Overland Track

The Overland Track

The Overland Track

The Overland Track

The Overland Track

The Overland Track

Filled my water up here! (Mum gifted me a Lifestraw Bottle and I loved it! And I didn't get sick, despite filling my bottle in random puddles, tarns and creeks)

The Overland Track

This was actually quite close to the top of Pelion Gap, but I still thought I had at least 1.5kms left. Also! These are endemic Pandani trees, not palms!

A view from the track to Mt Doris - with Mt Pelion East and the Cathedral Mountains

Mood greatly improved, I headed up to the saddle between Mt Ossa and Mt Doris for some spectacular views of Mt Ossa, Mt Pelion East, Mt Oakleigh, Bishop Peak and Cathedral Mountains. I must say, I'm not a huge fan of mountains - to hike them, that is. They look spectacular, but I've just never been someone that looks at a mountain and says: I need to be on top of you. There were plenty of others doing the Overland that did summit, or attempt to summit either Ossa or Pelion East though. And good for them. 100% supportive. So long as could support from the lower altitude.

Coming up to Pelion Gap

Mt Pelion East

Mt Oakleigh through the Scoparia and alpine gums

L-R: Mt Pelion West, the back of Cradle Mountain, Mt Emmett and Mt Oakleigh

Looking up to the Mt Doris summit

Mt Ossa - Tassies highest mountain - with a few hikers on their way down (look for the orange - Margot's calling card!)

On top of the world! Slash Tassie!

The 'Japanese Garden' named because it was quite well made/curated

The Overland Track

More Japanese Garden with Mt Pelion East in the background

Here I am!

Mt Pelion East summit in the sunshine

Love a bit of moss

Back on the track with the Cathedral Mountains on the left and Mt Massif and Falling Mountain on the right

This way ahead!

Alpine Yellow Gum. Love

Silver Banksia

Guitar Plant

What a view!

I tell you, I bloody loved Day 4. The weather was great, the views spectacular, the hiking fun (besides that little oopsie of distance) and it reminded me why I love doing stuff like this. Not that I'd had a horrible time, by any means, up until that point. But I remembered that I'm more capable than I realised and from there on I stopped worrying about being the last or slowest hiker, about the time that I would get to camp and about how I looked while I was out on the track. My body has changed a lot over the last few years and I had to buy bigger clothes for this trip. It's not a great mindset to be in. But learning that my body (and mind) was still capable and strong and could do the things it used to - and more (well, at least it had more stories by now!) was both a relief and a source of pride.

The whole thing was bloody great.

Bloody happy, me

And then it just got better! The hike from Pelion Gap was all downhill to end up at the same elevation that we started at. A lot of the path was duckboard (duckboards are life), but there was a fair share of very big natural rocky steps for a few kms and my knees thanked my sister-in-law's hiking poles more than once!

Before long, I waltzed (well, kinda stumbled/dragged myself) into my favourite campsite: Kia Ora. The hut there was small, sleeping 20 people on four beds, with a connected kitchen/shared space and then a clean and dry mud room.

But as we all know: huts are for schmucks. I set up my tent and had an absolutely delightful view of the Cathedral Mountains in front of me, Pelion East to my left and Falling Mountain to my right. Absolutely delightful. After a quick dip in the nearby creek, I dried my bathers and wet socks on my tent line, cooked my delicious roast chicken (with veggies and mash!) and retired to bed soon after sunset. I would have liked to have stayed up later each night, particularly this one as there were apparently wombats around (so I heard the next morning), but let me tell you, there were many mosquitoes around too, and Angry Jess reared her ugly head each evening when she was bitten alive.

Love.

Swam here. And was the only one not acquainted with a leech. What the mosquitoes love, the leeches lose.

Not a bad spot to set up tent

And the Falling Mountain in this pic

The Kia Ora hut (soon to be Old Kia Ora hut)

Pleased with my day and with being able to dry my socks and bathers

Beds at the rear and food social at the near. And a note about the very large and persistent possums on the board on the left. As I would learn.

A lovely mud room

I mostly slept well, but not long after I'd turned off my light it sounded like someone was walking around my tent. Big heavy footsteps. Then scratching. Then heavy breathing...

Now, I've spent a lot of time travelling around the world on my own in a tent (I cycled around the Norwegian coastline with a boy in 2007 when I momentarily fell in love with him, and we stayed in a tent for several weeks and in a fist fight or the like he would not have been helpful so I may as well have been on my own, + Southern Africa for 2 weeks + parts of the US + parts of NZ + parts of Ireland + plenty of Australia) and I have a fairly well-honed, reasonable, rational fear sense from being in tents. I've had a lion circle my tent, a hippo sleep next to me, a joey with a chip bag on its head (that I later rescued) jump into my tent and more than one elk and coyote call from very nearby. But honestly, this thing was BIG. And vicious. Likely going to kill me. Then my family. Then my dog.

I opened my eyes ready to defend my life and honour, when there, facing me, a completely brazen and unbothered gigantic possum had managed to sneak under my outer tent fly and was trying the old one-two to burrow inside my tent. Eyes shining at me all innocent like I hadn't just mentally rewritten my will. I'm all for a bit of a snuggle, but this was far too presumptuous. I rolled over and donkey-kicked my guest out, then put my earplugs in an dozed off (though not before someone in a nearby tent squealed and I got the giggles...)

Day 5: Kia Ora to Bert Nichols Hut/Windy Ridge (11.2km) aka Waterfall Day

My favourite campsite continued to deliver in the morning with an incredible sunrise and far less mysterious heavy footing and breathing, so I sat outside my tent, boiled some water and ate a deliciously warm granola in front of a spectacular view. Life can be just so beautiful.

The clouds moving over the Falling Mountains in the morning

Breakky!

The sun rising by the Cathedral Mountains

When I was all ready to head off for the day, I heard a chopper in the distance. After not hearing any mechanical sounds for the week, it was painfully intrusive and foreign. I was not a fan. Buuuuut, I do love me a flying vehicle. The dilemma.

I waited for it to fly overhead but imagine my surprise when it landed at the Kia Ora helipad (some poor soul was in the drop toilet at the time, which is right next door and I tell you, lucky she was there cos she definitely would have peed herself with the sound and proximity) and dropped off half a dozen or so tradies who were spending the next eight days onsite working on the new hut. I had a brief sign-language conversation with the chopper pilot who connected a hose/rope to the chopper base, then collected some building refuse (?) from the new site. It was all quite exciting.

Having said that, the chopper then did at least another five trips during the rest of the morning and the constant sound - even deep in the rainforest - was wholly unwelcome. Big thumbs down. But also, nice huts are nice, so I guess a hesitant thumbs up.

Chopper time, with Mt Massif in the background and the beginnings of a New Kia Ora Hut

Hey, fellas

Mechanical buzz aside, Day 5 was another ripper of a day, beginning with more buttongrass then heading into beautifully dense rainforest.

A couple of kilometers in I passed Du Cane's Hut, which was built in 1910 and is the oldest surviving hut on the track. Coming into the clearing where the hut sat was otherworldly - it felt like a real Garden of Eden. The grass was lush, butterflies danced in the sunlight and there were several very rare pencil pines dotted around: a survivor from the Pangaea era and at risk of becoming extinct as the climate has changed so much in the last 200 million years (and unlike most other flora in the area/in Australia, does not regenerate with fire).

The Du Cane Hut and Pencil Pines. Love.

Part of the Cathedral Mountains in the sunshine

After stopping at the hut for a while to breathe in the history, I continued on as the track disappeared into rainforest. The next several hours were spent carefully treading over roots and rocks lit by the dappled sun and detouring several times to explore nearby waterfalls from the Mersey River. At other times of year the rainforest is full of minor falls and river crossings, but besides stopping a couple of times here and there to fill up my water bottle from a trickle, the summer months had decreased the water flow so that it was almost non-existent.

Having said that, both the D'Alton and Fergusson Falls were full of rushing water, and when the sunlight came out from the clouds, they were very picturesque. But it was the Hartnett Falls that captured my heart. I headed down an overgrown (the scrub was up above my head!) and steep path to the base of the falls where I swam in a pool full of trout completely unafraid of humans and where platypus dens were hidden on the rock and hillside nearby. Bliss.

Although I must say, the water was bloody freezing and swimming under the waterfall was both exciting and excruciating as my body started to ache from the cold. After about 30 mins I staggered (slipped/fell/tumbled) out of the pond and ate my lunch resting in the sun while I warmed up again. Have I said that it was bliss? It really was bliss.

Entering the rainforest

The Overland Track

That way!

The Overland Track

The Overland Track

The Overland Track

The Overland Track

The Overland Track

Overland Track, Fergusson Falls, D'Alton Falls

The Overland Track

The Overland Track

The Overland Track

The D'Alton Falls

The Overland Track

So very happy after taking a freezing dip and swimming with the fish under the waterfall

The Overland Track

After leaving the falls it was a decent uphill climb to Du Cane Gap through Australian eucalypt woodland, but I was feeling stronger for the refreshing swim and reached the summit in no time. Not relying on my fitbit as a guide certainly helped! Then a short decent as the rainforest opened to sparse eucalypt and I nearly stumbled on the Bert Nichols Hut at Windy Ridge.

The hut was one of the newest and largest on the track and even includes commissioned artwork. There was a huge mud room, several separate sleeping rooms, a large dining room and another few tables overlooking the buttongrass below. There were a couple that I saw a few times each day that spent most evenings seated on the local helipad bird watching - I thought that was great, and they certainly had the pick of birdlife at Windy Ridge, spotting many yellow-tailed black cockatoos, pink robins and even a wedge-tailed eagle or two.

But the best place at Windy Ridge was a viewing platform where I, and everyone else, watched the sun set as we compared stories and prepared to say goodbye to each other. Although I did the hike on my own there were about 20 or so others that commenced on the same day and there were about 12 of us that finished up together, leapfrogging each other during the day and chatting in the evenings over steaming clothes and mysterious dehydrated food. Several couples had to leave first thing in the morning (at about 4am) to make sure that they arrived at the next hut in time for the 9.30am ferry. So we all had a few laughs, exchanged details and got bitten by mosquitoes as we watched the sunlight fade behind the The Acropolis and Mt Geryon.

That night was the only one that I'd had to get up to go to the bathroom. Coincidentally, I passed someone coming back from there and she said: look up. My goodness - speechless - after going to the toilet I spent over 30 minutes lying on the helipad, in the middle of nowhere, at about 3am in the morning, staring up at the hundreds of thousands of stars in the sky and feeling so very lucky.

Just heaven

Laura and Grant twitching on the Bert Nichols helipad

The Overland Track

The sunset over the Acropolis and Mount Geryon

Day 6: Bert Nichols Hut/Windy Ridge to Narcissus (9.0kms) aka Final Day

When I left from Melbourne, I wasn't sure how many days I would spend on the Overland. There are a few different options to choose from and I was considering taking a detour on Day 6 to Pine Valley (not technically on the Overland), then heading to Narcissus the following day. But by Day 6 I had decided against that and knew it would likely be my last day of hiking. So I woke up a little sad that I was near the end, but also excited, because it was all downhill (literally) and the sky was a perfect blue. What a way to send it!

Before I commenced the hike I had postponed my ferry booking from Narcissus to Cynthia Bay to the following day, but I decided to see if there was room for me on the 1.30 ferry, so I packed up my tent, had another delicious bowl of porridge while staring at the Acropolis mountains, then headed off down the track. It was a simple walk through typical Australian bush, and also the morning that I saw the most fauna, including two snakes (I think one tiger and one copperhead), several Bennett's Wallabies, a pademelon and lot of birds. It was a delightful way to start the day and lovely to be out in the fresh air before it became too hot.

Good morning, Acropolis and Mt Geryon!

Not a bad view to wake up to

My campsite (after I'd taken my tent down)

The Bert Nichols hut peaking out - taken from the helipad

A bad photo of the very large mud room

The HUGE dining & social room

The Bert Nichols hut from the front/track

Soon enough the bush opened to more buttongrass and the rocky track became a boardwalk and I was surrounded by mountains in all directions. I know I keep saying it, but it really was delightful. The boardwalk crossed Narcissus River via a suspension bridge (!) and from there it was just a stroll along the river to the hut.

Back on the track, and what a beautiful little oasis

Overland Track, Narcissus, Windy Ridge

Mt Olympus

The Overland Track

Just loving life

I mean, c'mon. THIS PLACE!

L-R: Mt Olympus, Mt Byron, Mt Cuvier, Mt Manfred

SUSPENSION BRIDGE!

The Narcissus river - full of platypus (I hear)

Me and a SUSPENSION BRIDGE

Narcissus isn't technically the end of the Overland, but most people catch a ferry from there to Cynthia Bay. There is the option though to camp at Narcissus or a bit further down the track at Echo Point, then continue hiking another 15km or so to the finish line. I called the ferry company via the radio in the hut, but it was impossible to hear what they were saying. I was torn between catching the 1.30pm ferry, but also didn't hate the idea of potentially staying at Narcissus for the night (likely on my own) and travelling on the 11.30am ferry the next day, which I was booked on.

So! Lots of options! Lots of logistical hurdles! All good results! And I dealt with it the way all decisions should be dealt with - I dumped my pack at the hut, walked down to the jetty, stripped to my undies and jumped in the river.

My goodness! What larks! The water was actually quite warm and the scenery incredible. I should have taken more photos, but I completely forgot to - I was too busy soaking it all in.

Before long, the ferry arrived and I cheekily asked whether they had room for one more. He said probably and when I ummed and ahhhed, he responded 'but I'm leaving in seven minutes and that's not negotiable'. Seven minutes! I jumped up wearing only a tshirt and my undies, put my shoes on (no socks, and sprinted to the hut to grab my pack, then sprinted back with it. Made it just in time! It definitely helped that everyone on the boat (five hikers that started with me and then all the oldies and their guides) were hooting and hollaring and cheering me on. It was quite something and I definitely would prefer to be wearing more clothes next time I run and then launch onto a ferry in front of a crowd of people. But hey ho.

Anyway, turns out that I was booked on that ferry too - they had forgotten to remove me from it when they put me on the following day's one, so all's well that end's well and all of that.

Swimming in Narcissus Bay without a care in the world

The ferry took us across Lake St Clair, or Leeawulenna - Australia's deepest fresh water lake - and we glimpsed spectacular views of the mountains that we'd passed and summited and that had safely guided our progress. It was a stunning way to end my time on the Overland (further confirmed when I chatted to a few people the next day that had walked from Narcissus and did not enjoy it at all).

I spent the next couple of days at Lake St Clair Lodge (situated at the southern end of the lake and just by the official end of the Overland Track) relaxing, rejuvenating, drinking local beer and generally being pretty pleased with myself, what I'd accomplished and this little corner of the world in which I'd accomplished it.

The Overland Ferry (taken while I was lounging on the pier in my undies, moments before I had to sprint to get my pack, and sprint back, in my undies)

Thanks Overland

So, my thoughts? The Overland was such an enjoyable experience. The views and scenery were beautiful, the other people I met friendly, the facilities (mostly I just mean the drop toilets, but also the huts) were top notch, and it was the ideal escape from the hustle and bustle of this covid world. I have grown from the experience and have a greater (and kinder) acceptance and appreciation for myself and the world that I live in.

Can't hope for much more than that.

A beginning

And end of the track, but the beginning of many other things

Lake St Clair at dusk from Cynthia Bay

Footnotes

Photos taken on my Olympus OMD em10ii and my iphone Xs

FootNotes

Photos taken on my Olympus OMD em10ii and my iphone Xs

© 2026 Stories She Saw

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