FIVE-MINUTE READ: Bonnie Scott learns the hard way when it begins to rain on the Overland Track.
For her birthday, Mum decided she wanted to hike Tassie’s Overland Track. Six days of hiking and camping, unguided, in the Tasmanian wilderness? Sounded fabulous to us: Mel (Mum’s best friend), Leigh (Mel’s husband), Max (my boyfriend), and me. Since we hadn’t pre-booked our ferry out for our final day, we thought we’d walk the extra 17km from Narcissus Bay to the Lake St Clair Visitor Centre.
For five days, Tassie showcased why it’s so popular with walkers. Not a hint of that rain we’d been warned could last the whole trip. A ranger we encountered on the trail told us rain was forecast for late on the 5th day. Given that was our walk-out day, we weren’t worried.
On the 5th, sections of the trail completely disappeared into seas of fronds that brushed us damply from boot to raised forearms, gradually saturating our clothes. Rain slowly trickling through the dense forest canopy was pleasant and cooling at first. We then spotted the ferry slicing through the rain hazing the lake.
And then the rain began to drench our clothes. We stopped briefly to weigh the merits of donning our rain gear this late into the game. Max consulted his Garmin: only about another hour and a half estimated.
“We’re already soaked, so why bother with the jacket? Let’s just keep going,” I said.
“We should at least use our pack covers,” Mum advised.
But stopping to get our gear organised seemed like too much effort, so we ploughed ahead. The rain got heavier and I discovered I’d been nowhere near saturation point before. Water slid under my gaiters, turning my boots to bathtubs.
When we spotted the first signs announcing, ‘Visitor Centre’, we all cheered and sped up. So did the rain. The trail widened, transforming into an endless river of muddy water. Had we turned the wrong way among the snaking side trails? Surely not.
When another Visitor Centre sign sprang up, Leigh and I raced ahead, whooping like kids. After some hundred metres, we slowed to a walk for fear of losing Mel, Max, and Mum in the driving rain. But they appeared behind us, and although everything in front of me had become a brown, grey, or green blur, I glimpsed a cluster of large buildings … including the Visitor Centre! We clustered around the trail sign, figuring one last selfie wouldn’t make us any wetter, before we ducked under the Visitor Centre veranda.
In the two days between then and returning to the mainland, we didn’t quite manage to dry out the contents of our packs, and two Kindles went to a better place. So, if you’re lucky enough to hike with your Mum, listen to her when she suggests putting your pack cover on. Mum always knows best.