The world is quiet here. Lemony
Snicket.
Chauncy Vale is a private conservation
area about 30 km north of Hobart, named after Nan Chauncy, a well
known Tasmanian author of children's books, which straddles an area
of low hills and forests between two valleys. There are a few
constructed trails, and several old road beds, now used as trails,
and, mid-week and mid-winter, you are pretty much guaranteed
solitude.
I used this map for my walk which was
more than adequate, although there are quite a few old roads that
branch off and are not shown. The main blue route on the map to the
Eastern and Western lookouts is marked with blue flagging tape.
Although it was 9 am when I started
walking, it was still chill in this dark valley so I skipped the
interpretive signs and headed straight out on Winter Walk, which runs
east up the main valley by Browns Caves Creek. At the track
junction, I wandered up the Caves track which runs along beneath a
short series of heavily lichened sandstone cliffs and caves before
dropping down to join the appropriately, though not imaginatively
named “Old Road Track.” The pass to the north of Devils Elbow is
the next major landmark. You could easily walk up the open forest to
the top of Devils Elbow but there is no view.
Sandstone Caves
Instead, I carried on along the gently
climbing road to a marked junction with the Eastern Lookout to the
right and the Western Lookout to the left. If I could have seen over
the hills in front of me, I might have seen our house-sit near
Campania from Eastern Lookout, while Western Lookout had a view down
the Derwent Valley to Mount Wellington. Apart from the wallabies I
scared up, and the three echidnas that waddled across the track in
front of me, the bush was timelessly silent.
Listening to the silence at Eastern Lookout
On the way back, I did a loop around
Guvy's Lagoon which was dry, as I suspect it frequently is. Back at
the track head, it was warm enough to view the interpretive signage
and find out a little about the park, although my hands were so stiff
with cold, I could only scrawl my initials in the visitor book.
Familiar view down the Derwent Valley to Mount Wellington
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