MARCH 2018 | Tara Ulbrich
WHEN I first started bushwalking I used the wrong language. I misnamed copses of trees timber, as if they were simply potential harvest and I’d describe forest as scrub, as if it were something abrasive to clear away. But allow me to admit that the two-hour return walk to Lobster Falls seems a bit like scrub. The beginning is an unceremonious pull off on the side of the Mole Creek Road, fifteen kilometres from Deloraine.
A winding, gradual descent over a dusty, stone track will cause the walker to wonder which direction you’re actually headed? Is this perhaps an unthought-through circuitous route? Like my earlier days, you’ll speculate on what vegetation is actually meant to be here as clumps of introduced weed impress upon you visually and physically.
The track shows signs of sporadic maintenance but overall the walker will feel that more could be done. Especially so once you start to see the rivulet and pick your way across the steeper, slippery hillside. Weather and human traffic have eroded what is loosely called a path.
The final descent is tricky and you’ll be grateful for whatever branches you can grab hold of. From the riverbed continue to step carefully downstream to the second waterfall. Why is it a surprise when the wet rocks are treacherous?
But then you’re in forest. From a rock ledge, looking down on the main waterfall, flow with the calm and uncompromised beauty. Here, you will find stillness, making the effort to get there completely worthwhile.
Sit and gaze into the generous pool of contemplation. Examine the rock sheers and feel into this valley chasm.
On hot days a swim in the silken waters will be irresistible. So too an ice cream from the Honey Farm, as your return includes a detour to Chudleigh.
Photo | Jade Hallam