We have spent the day getting properly acquainted with the ancient, damp heart of Mount Field, Tasmania, and our legs certainly know about it now. We set off on what was meant to be a pleasant 6.2-kilometre loop called the Three Falls Walk, starting from the visitor centre. The first stretch was a breeze, a lovely paved track that led us right to the feet of Russell Falls.
It really is a spectacular sight, with the water cascading down those distinct rock tiers like a giant wedding cake made of moss and shadows. Lisa could have stood there for hours just watching the mist rise off the ferns, while Steve was busy trying to find the best angle to capture the sheer scale of the place.
From Russell Falls, the "easy" part of our day came to a sudden halt. The track turned into a series of wooden steps that seemed to climb nearly to the top of the range. We took our time, catching our breath under the canopy. Once we reached the top, the path levelled out into a well-formed gravel track that led us through some of the most beautiful bushland we’ve seen yet.
We eventually found ourselves at Horseshoe Falls. It’s a much more intimate spot than Russell, with the water splitting into two distinct, silky streams over the dark rocks. The kids would have loved climbing over the mossy logs here, though we decided to keep our boots firmly on the path.
As we left the river and pushed deeper into the forest, we started noticing the little details that usually get missed when you're rushing. The forest floor was a treasure trove of strange and pretty fungi. We found one particular mushroom that was a brilliant, glossy purple, standing out like a sore thumb against the brown leaf litter. It looked like something out of a fairy tale.
The track also threw up some oddities in the timber itself. We came across a tree that had grown in a perfect, sweeping arc, looking for all the world like a giant wooden trunk reaching back down to the earth. It’s amazing how these ancient plants find their way around obstacles over hundreds of years.
After crossing the road and wandering through the Tall Trees section—where we felt like ants looking up at those massive swamp gums—the track began to wind downhill toward the final stop: Lady Barron Falls. This one has a different feel altogether, with the water sliding over a wide, stepped rock face. It’s tucked away so deeply in the greenery that it feels like a secret.
The sting in the tail came after we left Lady Barron. To get back, we had to face a near-vertical ascent to the top of the ranges via another set of multi-platform wooden steps. By the time we made it back, we were a bit suspicious of the official distance. The signs promised us a 6.2km walk, but Steve’s phone recorded nearly 12km by the time we reached the end!
Either the GPS was having a dizzy spell from all those vertical steps, or Tasmanian kilometres are significantly longer than the ones we have back in Western Australia. Regardless, we’ve certainly earned a quiet sit-down and a cuppa this evening.
