If there’s one thing I’ve learned from chatting with adventurers, it’s that Tasmania never does things by halves. It’s all in — wild weather, lush mossy forests, deep mud, fairy-tale bridges, and that unique Tasmanian mix of “why are we doing this?” followed swiftly by “oh, this is why.”
In this week’s episode of Travel with Us a While, I was joined by the effervescent Rejane Cowen, who shared her story of tackling four glorious, gruelling, and unforgettable days on Tasmania’s Overland Track, walking in from the Arm River trailhead with a small group of determined women and one male.
A Bucket List, a Backpack, and a Bit of Madness
The Overland Track, for those unfamiliar, is Tasmania’s premier long-distance walk — a 65-kilometre wilderness journey through the heart of Cradle Mountain-Lake St Clair National Park. It’s usually tackled over six or more days, with hikers carrying everything they need: food, tents, gear, and plenty of grit.
Rejane and her hiking buddy Sally had long dreamed of doing the full trek but decided to test their mettle with a four-day adventure first. As Rejane put it, “We weren’t quite ready for the whole kit and caboodle yet — but we figured, if we survived the Walls of Jerusalem in January, we could handle this!”
And handle it they did — through driving rain, shin-deep mud, and ever-changing Tasmanian moods.
Into the Wild: From Forest to Fairyland
Their route began deep in the Mersey Forest, where the trail winds through lakes and moorlands before meeting the main Overland Track near Pellion East Hut — a solid 11.5 kilometres of tough, technical hiking.
“It was meant to take three to five hours,” Rejane laughed. “It took us six — and every one of those hours was muddy, wet, and wonderful.”
Tasmania, being Tasmania, served up a bit of everything: drizzle, sun, mist, and that thick, boot-sucking mud that has you questioning life choices. But then — just as spirits flag — you round a bend and find yourself in a forest so green, so thick with moss and fern, that you half expect a fairy or gnome to pop out and wave.
“It’s magical,” she told me. “One minute you’re walking through sludge, and the next you’re in a cathedral of trees and soft green light.”
Bridges, Balance, and the Occasional “Turtle”
The Overland Track’s many creeks and rivers are crossed by every kind of bridge imaginable — from narrow planks just six inches wide to swinging footbridges that sway over rushing water. With a full pack on your back, every crossing feels like an act of faith.
And then there’s the mud. Rejane described one memorable moment where she sank to her knee, stuck fast, unable to move. “I thought, this is it, this is how it ends,” she joked. “One leg in front of a boulder, one behind, completely wedged in. I gave it everything and somehow got out, but I reckon my knees turned to jelly!”
Her friend Sally wasn’t so lucky — she “turtled” backwards into a freezing creek, pack and all. “We all laughed later,” Rejane admitted. “But not right away!”
A Warm Hut and Warmer Camaraderie
By the time the group reached Pellion East Hut, all thoughts of pitching tents in the rain had vanished. “A bunk,” Rejane confessed, “was all I wanted. Then it was, I’ll share a bunk! Just please, let there be one!”
Luck was on their side. Their fellow hikers had arrived earlier, saved bunks, and even had food laid out — a proper bushwalking banquet.
And these weren’t your average “huts,” either. “They call them huts,” Rejane said, “but really, they’re lodges! Sixty bunks, tables, hanging racks — everything except dry clothes!”
Misty Mountains and Snowy Peaks
The next day brought a climb toward Pelion Gap — the crossroads of the Overland Track, with Mount Ossa (Tasmania’s highest peak) to the right and Mount Pelion East to the left.
Rejane and her group made their way up towards Pellion East, hoping to summit, but the mountain had other plans. “The mist came down, the rain set in, and visibility vanished. We made it about three-quarters of the way up before we said, no, not today.”
Still, the reward was a misty lunch break with views across to snow-dusted Mount Ossa — a memory that stayed with her long after the socks dried (or didn’t).
Of Huts, History, and Waterproof Socks
Over the following days, they explored smaller trails — to the Old Pellion Hut, built for miners back in 1917, and along the moody Mount Oakley Track.
And then there were the waterproof socks. “Game changers,” Rejane declared. “My boots were soaked, the mud was up to my knees, but when I took those socks off — dry feet. Couldn’t believe it!”
Waterproof socks are not cheap, but after four days of squelching through Tasmanian wilderness, she reckoned they were worth every cent.
Hot Chocolate, Not Beer
While I once famously carried beer up a mountain in South Africa that I could have sold it to my fellow male hikers for any price I cared to name – I didn’t even share! (“priorities!” I told her).
Rejane’s post-hike ritual was much more civilised: a hot chocolate. “It’s the one thing I never drink at home, but when I’m hiking, it’s heaven,” she laughed. “Something about being cold and tired — it just hits the spot.”
So, What’s Next?
The Overland Track is calling again. “We’ll go back,” she promised, “maybe tackle the full route next time. You need to book six months ahead, so we’ll plan it properly — or sneak in from the Arm River again.”
And that’s the beauty of Tasmania — it keeps you coming back. There’s always another trail, another misty mountain, another story waiting in the wilderness.
And maybe, just maybe, you’ll find yourself eyeing off those hiking poles, a good poncho, and a pair of waterproof socks, ready for your own Tasmanian adventure.
NB: If YOU would like to be a guest on my podcast please reach out to me in the comments. I would love to share YOUR story on my podcast and create a blog using your photos too.
