Shortly after the first settlers reached the Derwent Valley, the smarter amongst them soon realised that this country was ideal for growing hops, that essential ingredient for that other of life's essentials....beer. Indeed, as you may recall, hops were actually grown on the banks of the river near the first bridge.
Today the hop fields are a little further out of town, throughout the region known as Bushy Park and beyond. Our trip for today, out to the Mount Field National Park to view its famed Russell Falls would take us through this district. Hops, trout streams, berry farms, river scenery and waterfalls......this was certainly Tassie!
From our lovely NN caravan park we headed out onto the Lyell Highway which took us north-east out of the town, past the Bush Inn on the right,
and across the river bridge junction a short distance further on.
We were now on the road which we were later to take to visit Lake Pedder, but for today our trip was a mere doddle by comparison through Bushy Park, Westerway and on to Mount Field National Park.
The rolling hills of the Derwent Valley were a picture, in their last flush of green before the unusually dry summer the State was about to experience would burn these grazing and farming lands to brown.
Not far from NN, the highway took us past the roadside hedgerows which heralded the approach to the tiny hamlet of Plenty (a 'blink and you will miss it village')
and in no time at all we found ourselves in the Bushy Park area where we sighted the first of the hop fields of this region, along the edge of the highway
and elsewhere across large planted fields on the valley floor.
A left hand turn at the berry growing town of Westaway (these were rasberries)
took us on to the Gordon River Road where the open fields and platations of the valley floor soon gave way to the heavily wooded slopes of the Maydena Range to the east of the Derwent Valley.
The highway soon took us to this leafy avenue into the National Park,
where we decided to firstly check out the camping area which is quite separate form the park visitor centre.
It was busy.....mobile homes, camper trailers and the dreaded 'whizz-bangs' (those small campers with sliding side doors which cannot be closed quietly), were crowded into just about every available parking area.
We had come out here early, and fortunately the visitor centre car park was not yet quite as busy, although as you can see we were by no means the first to arrive.
This impressive complex,
complete with its large piece of wall art (animal species unknown....paddymelon, possum or bandicoot....take your pick...something of an artistic each-way bet I thought!)
was just what we had expected for a place like this. Russell Falls are reputed to be one the State's prettiest. They are less than an hour's drive from Hobart and are easily accessible on foot along a very well maintained path from the visitor centre.
The counter from which the necessary passes were obtained (we were able to use our 'all parks pass') was already doing a steady trade.
The mandatory cafe and dining area was yet to get into full swing,
and before we headed out to the falls Liz could not resist a wander through the clothing and souvenier section, where, as usual, she was on the hunt for a stubbie holder.
With this mission completed we were off. The way ahead was clearly sign posted, and here again it was not difficult to recognise the home country of hordes of Tasmanian tourists.
The first stage of the track to the falls was a concrete path which took us past the quite newly planted tree ferns and out of the gardens which surrounded the visitor centre.
This underfoot luxury did not last long, but even as the cement gave way to dirt, the soil was heavily compacted and progress was not difficult
and we soon gained our first glimpses of the creek alongside which most of the track to the falls took us.
The walk was not all tree ferns and low bushes.....tall trees rose majestically in search of sunlight along much of it
whilst others had fallen by the wayside, to lie rotting under a cover of moss and lichens.
As we made our way further into the park, the clouds gathered and a gloom descended on the path. With the slopes beside the track
and all the fallen timber now densely covered with moss this lack of light was clearly not a rare phenomonen.
Large tree ferns were now massed alongside the creek
which continued to babble merrily along beside us.
As we neared the falls, the sun broke through
highlighting the varying of greens of the ferns and mosses with dappled light
and even giving the occasional tourist or two a chance to quickly warm up!
Even for shade loving plants such as the tree ferns, the shape of many of them indicated that they needed a certain amount of light to thrive. Contorted trunks like this were not an uncommon sight.
And so after a delightful stroll of about fifteen minutes or so along this wheelchair friendly track, we came to the last section of boardwalk which brought us to what we had really come to admire,
and as you can see by looking closely at the bottom of this shot, we were far from alone on the viewing platform.
I soon found myself jostling with a group of real pros. Some were hefting cameras with lenses which could have doubled as bazookas, and there was little give and take in the quest to secure the best position. Despite the efforts of some to hide it, there could be no doubting the quiet scorn with which my pocket sized camera was viewed,
but at last one very kind Canadian (who was actually photographing for the National Geographic magazine) took pity on the obvious rank amateur amongst them, temporarily surrendered his front position on the platform, and at last I was able to snatch this realatively unimpeded shot of the beautiful Russell Falls.
At this time of the year they were not at their magnificent best. The Discover Tasmania website describes these falls as "arguably Tasmania's prettiest", and notes that "it's certainly.....[it's] most photographed'" After our experience I would certinaly not challenge that last assertion.
This same site goes on to describe these falls as "[consisting] of two main
drops with a pleasing segmented, vertical appearance" and adds that "this, along with
its size, gives it a personality all its own".
Courtesy of the same site, this is a shot of the falls at their best.
Frankly, irrespective of the low flow over the falls on the day of our visit, it was still a spectacular sight, as was the walk through the swamp gums, dogwood, musk and myrtle of the surrounding rainforest, not to mention the stunning tree ferns.
But she who must be occasionally obeyed was not yet finished with this rainforest ramble.
Russell Falls is one of three fed by the same stream and most decidedly the easiest to access. The Lady Barron Falls were out of the question, but I was persuaded that we should at least take a peak at the Horseshoe Falls, which were to be found above Russell, of course!
And that obviously meant a climb. Oh, joy....come on knees, it won't be far. I chose to ignore this harbinger of doom
and took to the first flight of rocky steps with feined gusto.
The path upwards twisted and turned and the rocky steps
soon gave way to short sections of blessedly flat track,
and then, more stairs, steep stairs
where a strategically stationed rest bench did tempt me briefly. Actually the climb up was not too bad, it was the descent I was not looking forward to.
A final stretch of boardwalk brought us to the top of the falls,
where my ambition to shoot a spectacular shot looking down the drop was dashed. This was a far out as I could get, but at least we did gain a view over the forest to the Maydena Range beyond.
Several attempts on the way back down to photograph the falls through the trees were equally unsuccessful
so I was grateful that a short branch path took us to a viewing site from which I could at least see what all the fuss had been about. As they say, the Horseshoe Falls are not a patch on their lower counterpart but the surrounds were undeniably beautiful.
And as we regained the flat track back towards the visitor centre, where another fallen giant swamp gum lay covered with moss, even I had to concede that this additional effort had been worth it.
By now the walking path had become a gathering of the United Nations, and the peace and quiet we had enjoyed for most of our excursion was shattered by the sound of excited babble.
We took a last look at the impossibly clear water of the stream which fed the falls
and finally made it back to the visitor centre.
Here the car park was now utterly choked with vehicles of all types and recent arrivals circling in search of a parking space. We rejoiced in the fact that we had climbed out of our cot early and had seen this beautiful part of Tasmania in comparative peace and quite.
So with another tick on the bucket list, we headed back to the little village of Westaway
where a visit to the local berry farm shop was now on the agenda.
But here we found more than we had expected, beginning with this row of coloured bales of silage. We had spotted many of these around the island, but until now had not known the significance of the colours.
Well, now we had the answer. Each colour represented a particular charity. In this case a portion of the purchase price of the yellow bale material went to the McGrath Foundation, the mauve to 'Rural Men'....prostate cancer research, and funds from the blue 'Rural Children' bales to the Make a Wish Foundation. What a sensational idea! I have no idea of the amounts this raises, but as I mentioned, and as you will see from time to time, these coloured bales are a real feature of the Tasmanian rural landscape, particularly in the dairy country of the north-west.
Less surprising was the farm shop product notice which informed us that we could purchase raspberries or strawberries in both English and, surprise, surprise, Chinese.
Whilst Liz ventured indoors to inspect the wares on offer, I headed off a little further down the road to investigate the large building I had spotted nearby. I had my suspicions,
and as I drew nearer, they were confirmed. This was indeed a substantial old oast house tucked away behind the trees, further proof of the strength and history of the hops industry in this part of the State.
And to top it all off, as I drove back to the berry shop, I came across another arch typical Tassie scene as I crossed the bridge over the Tyenna River which runs right beside the hamlet of Westaway.
The Tyenna trout could be in trouble today as these two flicked flies onto the surface of this rapidly running stream.
Meanwhile Liz had decided that a jar of mixed berry jam was the pick of what was on offer at the shop. It was now time to make for our last destination of the day, the highly promoted Salmon Ponds, a significant commercial trout hatchery quite close to New Norfolk. We had been told that no trip to this area is complete without sampling the luncheon pancakes presented here.
Our return trip along through the Derwent Valley took us past more hop fields and back
through the township of Glenora, where I could not resist a shot of the marvellous rose display which lined the front fence of the local District High School.
Like so much of Tasmania, along this highway one small town is never too far from the next, and in no time we were winding our way back past the roadside hop fields
.
and the front hedges
of the homes of Bushy Park,
this small town which has grown up right on the highway in the heart of hop country.
As we passed this derelict shed, another common sight in Tassie, we bade farewell to Bushy Park
and in short order found ourselves in the poplar lined entrance driveway of Salmon Ponds
where the smart reception and cafe building stood in stark contrast to the last roadside structure we had seen.
The name of this establishment is something of a paradox.....a trout hatchery with barely a salmon in sight. How could this be?
Let me answer that with a direct quote from the relevant website:
"Trout and Salmon from England
To the European immigrants in the mid 1800’s, the Australian environment was very different to the land they had left behind.
To make their new surroundings more like ‘home’ they introduced
European plants and animals. Salmon was one of the many species chosen
for introduction, largely because of the popularity of fishing but also
because of the unexpected economic benefits.
After a number of failed attempts to transport them, the first live
salmon and a small number of trout eggs arrived at these ponds in May
1864.
Why is this called the Salmon Ponds when most of the Fish are Trout?
Originally this hatchery was built to receive salmon eggs (ova) sent
from England. Salmon are migratory fish, spending part of their life at
sea. It was expected that once released, the fish hatched at Plenty
would return to the Derwent River.
Several releases were tried, but for some unknown reason, the Salmon
never returned. A small number of trout eggs, however, had been included
with the first shipment of salmon eggs. They were hatched and raised
along with the salmon.
Unlike salmon, trout are generally non-migratory and they quickly
became established throughout the State’s lakes and streams. The
foundation of today’s valuable recreational fisheries had been laid.
Trout ova from Plenty were later used to establish hatcheries throughout Australia and New Zealand".
So there you have it. This facility now provides the Tasmanian inland fresh water fisheries with a million young trout each year (and the hatching ponds do include some Atlantic salmon!).
As we were to learn over the coming months, there seems to hardly be a stream or lake (and there are literally hundreds of them) in the State which is not home to trout of all varieties.......brown, rainbow, brook and tiger. Fresh water angling is big business in Tassie, believe me!
The grounds of Salmon Ponds were open for inspection, as usual, for a fee. Apart from the ponds, a large number of European trees were planted here and these form the backdrop for the most charming English garden setting where visitors can picnic, BBQ, feed the fish or just wander about. Add an Angling Hall of Fame and a Museum of Trout Fishing, and here you have the complete fresh water fishing package (apart from casting a line, that is).
I have to admit we were not terribly interested in all things trout....we were here for the pancakes, served in the dining room overlooking one of the ponds.
I chose savoury
whilst Madam Sweet Tooth munched on a mixed berry presentation.
As with most of what is 'Tassie tourist', they came at a price...a hefty one, but they did live up to expectations. After emptying the purse to pay for lunch, there was no way we were going to shell out even more to wander about the gardens, but I did manage to persuade the lass behind the reception desk to allow me to make a quick sortie past the entrance gate
from where I was able to grab a couple of 'indicative' shots of what are really lovely grounds.
This had been a biggish day. It was time to return to our digs. We did stop briefly to snap this comparative horticultural rarity in the Derwent Valley, a vineyard,
set on a rise overlooking the ever widening and rapidly flowing River Derwent as it
cascaded over the rocky outcrops beneath this railway bridge, yet another example of the scenic splendour which is Tasmania.
Typical river cliffs lined the roadside as
we made our return to New Norfolk, and from this direction we were able to gain yet another appreciation of the charm of much of this old town.
It would be wrong, however, to think of NN as an overwhelmingly historical town as some others in Tasmania can claim to be. It's proximity to Hobart has made NN a target for significant new housing development which was being advertised broadly during our stay. Some of this, a roam through the CBD and a grand gallop along the Derwent River walking trail, complete with cliff climbs, are matters for another day and another missive.
