Travel Blog #7

Peace, Gums, and Nyckleharpa

It’s hard to think of a better way to start a new year than by living in a completely differently way from what you’re used to. For 2026, I went with living in the bush. Using the water from the sky and river for drinking and cleaning and the rays of the sun for electricity. Now I know what you’re wondering: what about the spiders and snakes? Well, I mean, yeah, fair enough. I too was wondering about this when I showed up to Badger Flats. Turns out the spiders are everywhere. As summer kicked in to gear and the sun really started shining, the spiders also decided they wanted a piece of the action and came out to play. Spiderwebs galore. My newest friend, the huntsman spider that lives in the walls in my room, only gave me nightmares every few days. I’m told huntsman are good for getting rid of the “bad” spiders, whatever that means. I decided to take the approach of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal that believes if you can't see it, it can't see you. While this creature may be considered one of the least intelligent creatures in the universe, it's methodology got me through; Mr. Huntsman didn't eat me, so all is well. As for snakes, I’ve only seen 3 in the past 3 weeks, and one of them (the biggest) was in town, not in my space, so it doesn’t really count. Now I know what your follow up question is: did you check under your outdoor shower for Blue Tongue Lizards? Why yes, yes I did. Consequentially, I haven’t showered in 3 weeks. (That’s mostly a joke, there is a very handy river and ocean nearby).

I stayed at Badger Flats for about 3 weeks. I learned about Badger Flats through the best, most serendipitous method: word of mouth. I was at a gig at MONA (Museum of Old and New Art) a couple months ago and met a couple of fellow tree and nature enthusiasts that recommended I stay with their friend James. As a rule, I operate on the assumption that if people refer to trees by their scientific names (Eucalyptus Regnans instead of Mountain Ash for example), I can trust them and their recommendations. And, as you’ll read, that assumption paid off well. It’s also why I trust my father with his pizza recommendations :)

My time at Badger Flats was pretty low key, ranking among the most peaceful times that I can remember in my adult life. No cell service, limited WiFi, very few pressing needs. I spent much of my time reading and reflecting on 2025, travel, existence, life, the good stuff. It was essentially a spiritual-nature retreat. A profoundly different experience from what I’ve done so far in Tasmania, and I’m so grateful for it. James and I hung out a lot, exploring his property and the surrounding region, discussing life and art and music and local issues he deals with, playing piano. Playing piano! He has a piano in his hut that played a bit - I wrote him a song and gave him some pointers, though he was doing fine on his own without me. Top tip, everyone should play music in the forest. It’s just the best. Anyway, James is a very thoughtful and considerate person. He lives quite simply and is generous with his time and space to share his lifestyle with travelers. If you’re ever in Tasmania, you should look him up and stay with him. It’s worth the experience, I guarantee it. Thank you for everything James, you're a legend. Without further ado, here’s what I’ve been up to, experiences that punctuated my reading sessions:

Cockle Creek and South Cape Bay

I spent a night camping at Cockle Creek, the southest you can drive in Australia. It’s quite nice and super duper popular for camping on the holidays. It has an interesting history of French explorers arriving there and having seemingly decent interactions with the Aboriginal people, which is more than can be said of, well, anyone else. Also a lot of whaling. So much whaling.

I walked the South Cape Bay track to get my first glimpse of the Southern Ocean (I think it’s technically the Tasman Sea still but I’m calling it the Southern Ocean because borders in oceans are made up, just like most things in life, right Nate?!). It was a pleasant, pretty easy hike through open bush and some wooded areas. You could be forgiven for not realizing the ocean is nearby until you come out of the trees and BOOM there she is, in all her multi-hued blues (multi-blued?) and salty glory. I think these waters were the best I’ve ever seen. It had it all: glacial colors of light blue and grey, turquoise, which is present in many Tassie beaches I’ve patronized, dark blues, large patches of kelp, huge foamy waves. Big cliffs, epic clouds, brutal sunshine, strong winds that cools the sweat from said brutal sunshine. I enjoyed my usual meal of nuts, dried fruit, and tuna (woe of woes, I forgot my beans!) with a special morale treat of Sour Patch Kids! Side note: I’ve taken up a potentially dangerous habit of buying candy, chocolates, Diet cokes, etc., with the excuse that it’s good for morale to have little things that cheer me up while I’m traveling and living cheaply. As if I didn’t already do this before traveling. I reckon we can justify anything to ourselves. I enjoyed a few hours on the white sandy beaches, reading my book (Words of Radiance), swimming, and generally basking ocean in her magisterial glory. I walked back to make my usual camping dinner of ramen and tuna and beans (joy of joys, I found my beans!) and read my book on the beach near my campsite while watching one of the most spectacular sunsets I’ve seen in some time. It’s really something to watch a sunset in its entirety. Not something I typically do as I have the attention span of a fruit fly. But when you’re camping with no cell service, it’s worth putting the book down for. At least for a time, it’s a really good book after all. Goodonya Cockle Creek.

The next morning I walked to Fishers Point to see the view from the lighthouse. I was surprised to see kunanyi and Bruny Island from a distance away, two places I’ve explored and had magical experiences. Tasmania, it turns out, is rather small :)

I always think of my Grandpa, my mom’s dad, when I go to lighthouses. We used to visit my grandparents in Maine a lot as a kid. We always visited Pemaquid Point Lighthouse. Lighthouses are special places with fascinating histories, even if nowadays the romanticism is lost with many of them replaced with solar powered, steel framed towers. It’s the way of things, I suppose. Anyway, I love being near them. I’ve been to heaps here in Tasmania, and before I left the States I went to a really nice one on Fire Island in New York with my sister Holly and nephew Benji, as well as Pemaquid when I visited my friends Paige and Brooke in Maine. I had never been to Maine on my own, and I have to say, it is really something to relive childhood memories as an adult. Pemaquid will always hold a special place in my heart. And now, as I find myself exploring antipodean beaches and lighthouses, I can’t help but think my grandpa would be proud. He loved travel, seeing new places and meeting interesting people. Mostly meeting interesting people and trying to figure out their psychological problems. He was exceedingly good at that. I don’t actually know if he ever left North America, but I’m sure he would have loved it. I find these lighthouses for you Vilhelm Elwiggle! Let’s hope they sell perch in a basket at the next one.

Reuben Waterfall

James and Louis and I went to Reuben Waterfall, which was the best waterfall I’ve seen in Tassie. It’s not well marked or marketed, so the trail is a little rough and there aren’t many people using it. Score! It’s a lovely walk through pretty dense forest, and you eventually emerge into what felt like a secret, sacred place. Maybe a place for doing ancient initiation rituals. Or for two stinky dudes to get a much needed rinse.

The waterfall, as you can imagine, was really great. The cliffs around it have formed into interesting, angular shapes that were equally striking to me. But what struck me the most was the gum trees that had fallen into the water. The cliffs were high enough that these pretty large trees just looked like toothpicks in comparison. What a lovely place.

Hartz Mountain National Park

James and I took a spontaneous evening trip to the nearby Hartz Mountain National Park to walk to Lake Esperance. It was hot and sunny at James’s place but by the time we got to the trailhead, it was cloudy, misty, and chilly. Tassie weather, am I right? We were in an alpine region, so to me it makes the experience even more magical. There was a sign that said the Southwest of Tasmania is more grand than the Grand Canyon, to which I said “not bloody likely, mate” but it was so misty that we couldn’t see very far anyway. Maybe it is grander than the Grand Canyon, but only in one’s imagination because you can’t actually see anything? Hard tellin' not knowin'. Sorry Tasmania, the area is truly amazing, but it’s probably not grander than the Grand Canyon. I mean, they capitalize the "G" in Grand for it and everything.

BIG Tree Talk

This may be hard to believe, but the Grove of Giants was my best tree experience yet. I know, I know, all trees are magical and wonderful and it’s folly to put subjective titles like “the best” on them. But I’m gonna do it anyway, because they were that good.

When I’m near the ocean or in the mountains, I often have this amazing feeling of awe and insignificance. Awe and Insignificance because these natural wonders are just so big, so ancient. Our human lives are laughable short in comparison, and I find comfort in that feeling. It takes the pressure off a little bit, you know? And I felt that same way around these trees. These trees, many hundreds of years old, have seen and survived more than I can comprehend: bushfires, storms, loggers, literal centuries of kookaburra calls, countless possum duels in their branches. Just incredible.

James and Louis and I walked through the trail, marveling with mouth agog, at the bigness of it all. I say we, but I’m pretty sure Louis couldn’t be bothered. Wallabies are most interesting to dogs for some reason. The big gums include blue gums, stringy bark gums, and swamp gums. There are bits that feel like a dry forest and other bits that are proper rainforest. Fantastic. As I’ve probably remarked before, Tasmania’s ecosystems change quiet rapidly in a most delightful way.

You should check out the website to read more about the Grove and the largest tree, Lathumus Keep (an epic name that could have come right out of Tolkien’s Middle Earth): Grove of Giants https://www.thetreeprojects.com/groveofgiants. These photos don't do it justice, of course, but I had to try.

The area is really fascinating, as the Grove is surrounded by clear cut areas, managed native forests that will be cut in a few years, gum plantations, managed by Sustainable Timber and the largest native timber mill in Tasmania. We went through all of these on the drive from James’ property and it’s hard to convey the stark contrast of the wild feeling of the Grove and the surrounding forest. 5 meters into the Grove, you’re completed enveloped by semi-wild forest that you forget that you just drove through a recently clearcut forest. The temperature drops, the sun is blocked by the canopies, the birdsong reappears. You get lost because the walking track isn’t terribly well marked (or possibly because you were following a dog’s lead while he chased wallaby scents) and suddenly you have no idea where you are. When you finally emerge from the forest, mostly unscathed, you return to a clearcut, gravel filled hellscape. In the surrounding hills you can see the scars of logging, and the parking area is literally in one of the scars. And they do feel like scars, not like natural fields or open spaces. I found it quite disconcerting. I suppose it’s the nature of things, as we need to make paper and houses and furniture and wood is an amazing product for building. It’s just hard to not get upset when incredible old growth forests that do so much good for our environment are cut down to make paper. I digress.

Cygnet Folk Festival

Another serendipitous opportunity I stumbled upon was the Cygnet Folk Festival. If you know me and my music tastes, I’m a big fan of folk musics from around the world. If you have made it to the bottom of any of these blogs and seen my recommendations for Dreamers’ Circus, or have talked to me about music in the last 6 months, you know I’m a huge fan of nordic folk music. So, imagine my sheer delight when I 1) find out a cool, local folk festival is happening in a nearby cute and artsy town, and 2) my favorite nyckleharpa player is coming from Sweden to play at said folk festival! SUBLIME!

The folk fest was amazing. I got to see the aforementioned nyckleharpist, Josefina Paulson, and her band play twice in the day I was there. A hilarious and delightful Lithuanian group. And a surprisingly impressive band called Where Water Meets that makes gripping and evocative experimental string music. The first shows were on one of the bigger stages, and the evening show was in an intimate setting that I of course got front row seats for. It was such a healing, nourishing experience. There were 2 violists (nice!) singing and playing songs including Pink Pony Club (double nice!!), traditional and new Swedish folk music on nyckleharpa, bass mandola, oboe, violin, and cello, and modern, experimental string music on guitar, violin, cello, and viola. Then about 12 musicians on the tiny stage playing folk tunes, then folk tunes that they talk the audience to sing along to. It’s hard to describe with mere words. But it felt like a bubble of healing, peace, unity, love, emerged and enveloped all of us in the room. It emerged from the musicians and from the audience. It felt like we momentarily stepped out of time and into a formless space of collective togetherness. It’s rare that I’ve felt this from live music. It genuinely took a lot out of me, and I was only observing! Music is so good, so necessary. It’s something we can cling to and come together with, regardless of how horrible things get.

Note: experimental music often has a connotation of being hard to understand, unpleasant to listen to, ahead of its time, etc. Not always a good thing. When I say experimental here, I mean it more as innovative and interesting. Using novel materials for bows, cool chords, unexpected musical turns. It was certainly complex, but very pleasant to listen to and emotionally engaging.

Books

These are the books I spent my time with at Badger Flats

One Straw Revolution by Masanobu Fukuoka

Cadence by Emma Ayres

The Way of Zen by Alan Watts

Words of Radiance by Brandon Sanderson

Edgedancer by Brandon Sanderson

Things Become Other Things by Craig Mod

I recommend and and all of these books. But I highly, highly recommend One Straw Revolution if you have any interest in permaculture or philosophy.

Music

I listened to the album Lumen by Bill Lawrence a LOT. His piano playing and writing is so fun and intricate and emotional and gripping and virtuosic and sensitive. I know, that’s a lot of ands and adjectives. It’s that good. Someday I hope to make an album half as good as Lumen.

Kid A by Radiohead - I’m just discovering Radiohead on this trip. I’m usually 10-20 years behind the trend. Turns out, they’re really good!

Pale Blue Dot from River Islands by Where Water Meets - the amazing string band I saw at Cygnet Folk Festival

Chimär by Josefina Paulson - my nyckleharpa hero!

Ace by Madison Cunningham - simply a spectacular album

Bleeds by Wednesday - fun and interesting alternative album, whatever alternative means

Starship Syncopation by Cory Wong - funky, exuberant, joy-filled music. I’ve seen Cory Wong a couple times and his music reminds me that music is supposed to be fun. Make it good, play well, but don’t forget the fun. If you listen to this album, or his album Power Station, or his live album The Power Station Tour (West Coast), you’ll see what I mean. Get stuck in.

Quote

I find this to be one of the most wonderful quotes. I've sent it or written it to some of you before. And possibly in this blog? I hope not, it's hard to keep track of things sometimes. Anyway, this quote gives me great peace, as I find my life to be absolutely full to bursting with questions pretty much of the time.

“Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not now look for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day.” - Rilke, Letter to a Young Poet

Courage,

Trevor

"Fill your life with meaning. Life is precious. Do not waste a single second."

 - Rog Bennett