All the relevant tourist blurb and websites make the same claim."It's rare in the world to find a powerful place like Leven Canyon that's so easy to access. Come to the edge of a dramatic canyon with a river twisting and roaring 275 m below".
It got us in.......we were off to see just how good this Tassie tourist attraction really was. To get there and back we chose a ring route, depicted here on a map I eventually found (which strangely enough was produced by the Kaydale Lodge......we did actually pass it later....very flash).
The red line shows our outbound trip and the yellow the return through Ulverstone, a round trip of some 100 kms or so.
The scenery en route confirmed what we already knew. Here in this part of Tasmania potatoes flourish on the slopes of the rolling hills
in oft irrigated fields,
whilst on other properties the hills are dotted with grazing cattle
or those being spoilt with a hay run. There is no doubt as to the productive nature of the land in Tassie's north-west.
We were on track. The next stop was what we hoped would be a good overview of the reputedly beautiful Gunns Plains.
The following ten kilometres took us through more gently undulating farm land
before we began to climb through lightly timbered country.
The top of the ridge brought us to the George Woodhouse lookout as our previous homework had promised. George and his wife were local luminaries who had lived and farmed at Gunns Plans for years and years and had been honoured by the local community with a small plaque at this lookout.
What a view we had from this vantage point
where a tweak of the focus showed us the road we were soon to follow as we made our way further east across the plains below.
This was one place at which I could not resist hitting the 'P' designation on the camera dial.
As you can see from this shot the road on which we were travelling was far from being a major highway, and I was a tad grateful we were unencumbered.
Once almost through the plains below the lookout, our next turn was marked by a gracious home, completely on its own in this part of the world, with a clearly flourishing vineyard on the slope behind it.
But we did ask ourselves why one would chose to live right on the junction like this, with the headlights of approaching vehicles shining directly into the front windows....not to mention the risk of one of them failing to stop and becoming an uninvited guest!
That question remained unanswered and in no time flat we were again climbing, this time towards the Preston Falls,
where a welcome layover enabled me to park the Cruiser well off the road.
'15 mins return, easy walk'...words I was very happy to read on the sign at the entrance to the track to the falls.
Indeed the stairs
and the trail below
which took us past this delightful little picnic area, presented only a modest challenge, even to those with worn out knees such as your scribe.
This was just as well, or I would have been doubly disappointed. As we crossed a small bridge on the approach to the lookout
I was less than encouraged by the volume of water in the creek below, or should I say the lack of it.
As we stepped out to the end of the very well constructed viewing platform overlooking the falls,
the barren rock wall in front of us confirmed my suspicions.....it was bone dry. Can there be anything more disappointing that a 'waterfall' without water?
This was yet another small reminder of the fact that Tasmania was suffering from one of its driest spring and summer periods on record.
So, just for the record I have included this 'Think Tasmania' photo of the falls at work. And frankly, having seen this, I did wonder what all the fuss was about. A 'delightful waterfall' the the sign had promised.....hmmmmm!
In any event at least the surrounds were indisputably delightful, and this had been a good little travelling break, but now it was time to push on. We had far greater challenges ahead of us.
We drove on past the green cloaked hills of the Dial Range Forest, through the hamlet of Nieta
and eventually come to a stop in the quite expansive Leven Canyon car park.
We were far from the first to arrive here, and we soon discovered that apart from catering to day trippers such as we were,
those who wished to set up a temporary home for a while were more than welcome to do so. This group of campers
had themselves well organised,
whilst further up the hill just past the campsite shelter shed, one couple had found themselves a lovely spot to park their van.
For us there was to be no lounging about....it was time to get to work. A route sign in the car park told us what we already knew. Here there are three walks on offer.
We planned to do two of them, to Cruickshank's Lookout and then, after returning to the car park, down to the Edge Lookout, through the ferns. As you can see from this map, these two lookouts are connected by what is described as the Forest Stairs, and that's exactly what they are, an extraordinary construction of 697 stairs which connect the two vantage points.
We were told that this is walk was a must. With my knees.......not on your Nellie! Stairs, particularly on the descent, are killers.
Before we set off let me share an aerial overview of the country through which we were about to tramp, and the canyon we were visiting. the red arrow designates the car park from which each walk began, the red cross the first lookout, and the yellow an approximation of the position of the lookout at The Edge.
As you can see from this, the mountains are heavily wooded and the cleft through which the Leven River flows is indeed deep.
We were told that this is walk was a must. With my knees.......not on your Nellie! Stairs, particularly on the descent, are killers.
Before we set off let me share an aerial overview of the country through which we were about to tramp, and the canyon we were visiting. the red arrow designates the car park from which each walk began, the red cross the first lookout, and the yellow an approximation of the position of the lookout at The Edge.
So we headed off on the first of our two 'easy' walks, out of the car park
and through the surrounding fernery of the lower section of the the track.
The fern fronds soon gave way to track side eucalypts, in this case mostly the tough 'Smithton peppermints', a species which thrives in poor, rocky soil.
And the higher we climbed, along this thankfully moderate slope, the more the track was bordered by increasing outcrops of moss covered rock,
and almost before we knew it, this plaque on a mottled lichen covered rock told us we had arrived at Cruickshank's lookout.
The fact that we were standing here owed much to the redoubtable George Cruickshank, as this information plaque clearly stated.
I mean to say, doesn't everyone who is anyone just jump on a whaling ship on a whim and sail off to Antarctica? How utterly extraordinary.
Our walking path ended here with this short descent onto the
lookout viewing platform which, at first sighting, appeared to jut out over the void. This was not quite the case, but for me in particular it may just as well have been.
This was a 'lookout' indeed. This scene, gazing in a general westerly direction across the ridges to Black Bluff in the distance, was innocuous enough,
but with a lowering of the eyes the stark nature and the depth of the canyon became obvious (even more so than my paltry camera could capture).
Our vantage point was directly opposite a sheer, sharp bluff, around which the river curls
as is snakes along its path so far below.
I've had to resort to the Internet (with thanks to 'ourtasmania') to bring you a full view of exactly what was in front of us.
The fact that we were standing here owed much to the redoubtable George Cruickshank, as this information plaque clearly stated.
I mean to say, doesn't everyone who is anyone just jump on a whaling ship on a whim and sail off to Antarctica? How utterly extraordinary.
Our walking path ended here with this short descent onto the
lookout viewing platform which, at first sighting, appeared to jut out over the void. This was not quite the case, but for me in particular it may just as well have been.
This was a 'lookout' indeed. This scene, gazing in a general westerly direction across the ridges to Black Bluff in the distance, was innocuous enough,
but with a lowering of the eyes the stark nature and the depth of the canyon became obvious (even more so than my paltry camera could capture).
Our vantage point was directly opposite a sheer, sharp bluff, around which the river curls
as is snakes along its path so far below.
I've had to resort to the Internet (with thanks to 'ourtasmania') to bring you a full view of exactly what was in front of us.
What a spectacular canyon this is, and what a spot from which to view it. The river was barely a trickle as you can see, and I spent some time trying to imagine just what this would look like when the Leven River was in spate with its waters thundering down this narrow ravine.
One, down, one to go. After some time communing with nature here at Cruickshank's Lookout we turned about and made our way back to the car park, passing the beginning of the Forest Stairs trail as we did. And here we found a tale of another extraordinary local.
I was particularly disappointed that I could not admire Mr McTurk's work first hand, but that would have been foolhardy.
Once back at our starting point our first task was to find the entrance to our next trail, the 'Fern Walk' which would take us down to The Edge lookout.
Like so many of the various parks we had visited to date in Tasmania, the pathways here at Leven Canyon were all clearly marked and well maintained.
This walk was described as being of thirty minutes return duration and 'easy'. Not quite.....but we had become used to adding a bit of time to these predictions....we think the parks services must employ the 'Road Runner' to determine these elapsed times!
How aptly this jaunt had been named. The large, lush ferns enveloped the path on both sides from the moment we left the car park.
Some were truly grand,
and as so often happens I've had to be ruthless with my pictorial editing, or this blog would run for days.
Every so often along the trail wooden markers gave us the good or bad news as to our position relative to our departure point and our destination. I have found these to be very much a double edged sword....if I have to rely on them I probably really don't want to know the answer, particularly on the return ramble!
Several sections were quite steep, and we were grateful for the rope hand rails which ran alongside the track at these points. Even 'the youngster' was glad to hang on!
As we neared the end of the trail, towering whitetop stringybarks
thrust themselves up to the light,
whilst others had crashed to earth at the end of their long lives.
Moss covered stumps
and impromptu 'fern baskets' lined the walkway,
and at one point we even had to cross a small creek where again the ferns were in abundance.
Again, a short descent
brought us up abruptly at The Edge lookout viewing platform and this one really did hang out over the sheer cliff below.
As had been the case at Cruickshank's, the views along the canyon were nothing short of spectacular,
and completely deserving of what we call a 'typical touro'!
Well, to paraphrase Julius Caesar, we had come, seen and conquered, almost. We still had to get back to the car park,
where, en route, I did ask herself to pose by the base of this fallen tree just to give an idea of the size of these forest giants.
We were both plodding along quite happily, more than content with the marvellous sights we had seen, when the Leven Canyon reserve presented one more surprise. I heard a rustling in the bush, and then I spotted it.
There it stood, a delightful doe eyed little pademelon, utterly unfazed by our presence as I was willing it not to move until I had focused the camera. It didn't move a muscle. No one will ever convince me that these little wallabies are not completely used to human company.
What a charming way to end to our Leven Canyon walks this had been. After a spot of lunch in the car park, we were on our way back to Penguin,
this time via Ulverstone as I mentioned at the outset.
The navigator/front seat photographer could not resist another photo of one of the ubiquitous old Tassie wooden slat rural roadside buildings
and as we passed through the small town of Sprent
yours truly was equally self indulgent with the camera. These really are the most magnificent trees, providing splashes of bright red colour throughout the north-west countryside of Tasmania at this time of the year.
As we neared Ulverstone the slopes of the rolling hills were again covered by serried rows of newly sprouting potatoes, their green tops in stark contrast to the rich brown soil which nurtures them so well.
And then it was back to the urban reality of a reasonably large north coast town,
with its quite remarkable town clock spire. Although today we were merely passing through Ulverstone, we did make a return trip later to do some shopping. We had already made up our minds that this would be a town for much closer exploration on our return trip to Tasmania.....so no more photos this time!
The short stretch between Ulverstone and Penguin took us right along the coast, with only the railway line between us and the sea.
With scenery like this, and lovely little seaside towns quite close together along this line, we could not for the life of us understand why a tourist train does not operate here. Nor could the lass in the Penguin Tourist Information Centre when I posed the question to her. Could we dare we think we have lit a spark? Only time will tell.
As the now familiar eastern end of Penguin's Main Road came into view the question remained....had this day been worth it?
As I hope I have been able to adequately share with you.........resoundingly yes! The hype about the Leven Canyon, in our view, was fully justified. Pity about Forest Stairs......next time perhaps.......if I come back to the Apple Isle complete with new knees!
One, down, one to go. After some time communing with nature here at Cruickshank's Lookout we turned about and made our way back to the car park, passing the beginning of the Forest Stairs trail as we did. And here we found a tale of another extraordinary local.
I was particularly disappointed that I could not admire Mr McTurk's work first hand, but that would have been foolhardy.
Once back at our starting point our first task was to find the entrance to our next trail, the 'Fern Walk' which would take us down to The Edge lookout.
Like so many of the various parks we had visited to date in Tasmania, the pathways here at Leven Canyon were all clearly marked and well maintained.
This walk was described as being of thirty minutes return duration and 'easy'. Not quite.....but we had become used to adding a bit of time to these predictions....we think the parks services must employ the 'Road Runner' to determine these elapsed times!
How aptly this jaunt had been named. The large, lush ferns enveloped the path on both sides from the moment we left the car park.
Some were truly grand,
and as so often happens I've had to be ruthless with my pictorial editing, or this blog would run for days.
Every so often along the trail wooden markers gave us the good or bad news as to our position relative to our departure point and our destination. I have found these to be very much a double edged sword....if I have to rely on them I probably really don't want to know the answer, particularly on the return ramble!
Several sections were quite steep, and we were grateful for the rope hand rails which ran alongside the track at these points. Even 'the youngster' was glad to hang on!
As we neared the end of the trail, towering whitetop stringybarks
thrust themselves up to the light,
whilst others had crashed to earth at the end of their long lives.
Moss covered stumps
and impromptu 'fern baskets' lined the walkway,
and at one point we even had to cross a small creek where again the ferns were in abundance.
Again, a short descent
brought us up abruptly at The Edge lookout viewing platform and this one really did hang out over the sheer cliff below.
As had been the case at Cruickshank's, the views along the canyon were nothing short of spectacular,
and completely deserving of what we call a 'typical touro'!
Well, to paraphrase Julius Caesar, we had come, seen and conquered, almost. We still had to get back to the car park,
where, en route, I did ask herself to pose by the base of this fallen tree just to give an idea of the size of these forest giants.
We were both plodding along quite happily, more than content with the marvellous sights we had seen, when the Leven Canyon reserve presented one more surprise. I heard a rustling in the bush, and then I spotted it.
There it stood, a delightful doe eyed little pademelon, utterly unfazed by our presence as I was willing it not to move until I had focused the camera. It didn't move a muscle. No one will ever convince me that these little wallabies are not completely used to human company.
What a charming way to end to our Leven Canyon walks this had been. After a spot of lunch in the car park, we were on our way back to Penguin,
this time via Ulverstone as I mentioned at the outset.
The navigator/front seat photographer could not resist another photo of one of the ubiquitous old Tassie wooden slat rural roadside buildings
and as we passed through the small town of Sprent
yours truly was equally self indulgent with the camera. These really are the most magnificent trees, providing splashes of bright red colour throughout the north-west countryside of Tasmania at this time of the year.
As we neared Ulverstone the slopes of the rolling hills were again covered by serried rows of newly sprouting potatoes, their green tops in stark contrast to the rich brown soil which nurtures them so well.
And then it was back to the urban reality of a reasonably large north coast town,
with its quite remarkable town clock spire. Although today we were merely passing through Ulverstone, we did make a return trip later to do some shopping. We had already made up our minds that this would be a town for much closer exploration on our return trip to Tasmania.....so no more photos this time!
The short stretch between Ulverstone and Penguin took us right along the coast, with only the railway line between us and the sea.
With scenery like this, and lovely little seaside towns quite close together along this line, we could not for the life of us understand why a tourist train does not operate here. Nor could the lass in the Penguin Tourist Information Centre when I posed the question to her. Could we dare we think we have lit a spark? Only time will tell.
As the now familiar eastern end of Penguin's Main Road came into view the question remained....had this day been worth it?
As I hope I have been able to adequately share with you.........resoundingly yes! The hype about the Leven Canyon, in our view, was fully justified. Pity about Forest Stairs......next time perhaps.......if I come back to the Apple Isle complete with new knees!
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