Day 24: 10 December 2019 (PDT Day 3)
On the morning of our third day, the Trek group departed true to intent at 6:30 am and we did a slow but efficient pack-up ready to leave around 8 am. We had become interested in the concept of ‘time restricted eating’ and I had been following this principle for a month or so before we left. Tim agreed to give it a go too and with some apprehension we chose not to have breakfast on this trip but to wait until we needed an energy boost as we walked. (We would have returned to having breakfast if we needed to, and had plenty of our home-prepared dehydrated eggs if required.) One huge benefit from this was that our morning pack-ups were relatively quick and easy with just an Aeropress coffee maker to rinse.
This morning we decided to keep our boots clean and dry (a pointless exercise in retrospect) so headed across the campsite creek in our river shoes and booted up on the other side. Today was the last section of the old Port Davey Track that had been surveyed as a potential road, as navigation south of Spring River was via the river itself. This meant that the track was benched most of the way, reasonably level with only mild undulations. We walked through the Lost World Plateau, staggered at the bleak beauty of the rugged hills. We delighted in the wildflowers, and particularly appreciated the delicate Short Purpleflag which greeted us throughout the day. Masses, myriads of wildflowers. Mauve, soft yellow, white, pink, bright yellow – they were everywhere, especially in the forested gullies. To be together and by ourselves, in this wilderness, captured our wonder and joy. We were reminded of Scottish highlands. Pools of tadpoles, birdsong, proudly placed wombat droppings, and the Patersonia fragilis, all added interest to the otherwise arid landscape.
We had morning tea on our favourite Helinox chairs overlooking the Spring River valley, with a waterfall roaring somewhere deep in the rainforest. Then lunch on a windswept plain next to a creek where we removed our boots and aired our feet. Through the gullies, along white gravel paths we meandered, with stretches of board walk and a couple of footbridges greatly appreciated. The views were ever-changing as the path twisted and turned. Coming over one rise, we had our first glimpse of Mount Rugby, a magnificent mountain that dominated our walking over the next week.
One final river crossing appeared to us to be Spring River. We took off our packs before realising that we were about 1 km short of the official campsite, but this place was superb. We were the only campers, on the side of a gorgeous creek, where we swam and rested before dinner (soup and pork and apple with rice) and settled down wondering at the privilege of being alone in such a place as this. We felt fit and refreshed after a rewarding day.
