27/07/2026
📖 Walking the Edge of Tasmania 🥾🏔️🌊
Our latest Overland Cruiser story is now ready!
From breathtaking coastal cliffs and winter hiking to unexpected travel hiccups, unforgettable family moments and everything in between, this article shares our four-day journey along Tasmania's spectacular Three Capes Track.
Whether you're planning to walk the track yourself or simply enjoy a good adventure story, we hope you'll enjoy the read.
📄 The full article is attached below. We'd love to hear what you think, and if you've experienced the Three Capes Track yourself, let us know your favourite part in the comments! 👇
Walking the Edge of Tasmania
We know this isn't the sort of adventure people normally associate with Overland Cruiser.
Usually, the LandCruiser is pointed towards a dusty track somewhere, the caravan is faithfully following behind, and the next camp is hundreds of kilometres from the nearest town. This time was different. The mud terrain tyres stayed at home, the caravan remained parked up, and everything needed for four days in Tasmania's wilderness was packed, ready to be carried on our backs.
Different?
Absolutely.
Worth it?
Without question.
Adventure has never been about the vehicle, the accommodation or how far off the beaten track you can get. It's about stepping outside the ordinary, embracing the unknown and sharing those moments with the people who matter most. The Three Capes Track simply reminded us that sometimes the greatest adventures begin by slowing down and taking a walk, instead of driving further.
Stretching just under 50 kilometers across Tasmania's spectacular Tasman Peninsula, the Three Capes Track has quickly earned a reputation as one of Australia's premier multi-day walks. It's also one of the most accessible. Rather than carrying tents and searching for campsites each night, walkers move between architecturally designed huts complete with bunk rooms, sheltered kitchens, rainwater, toilets and resident Parks Tasmania hosts. For anyone curious about overnight hiking but unsure about carrying a full hiking setup into the wilderness, it's an ideal introduction. For more experienced bushwalkers, it offers something different again - the chance to travel lighter and focus almost entirely on the landscape.
That was exactly what attracted us.
Bushwalking isn't something that's new to our family. Long before Overland Cruiser, both Tess and I worked professionally as bushwalking guides in the outdoor recreation industry. Spending days on the trail, carrying everything we needed and introducing others to some of Australia's most spectacular landscapes was simply part of life. Like many families, though, priorities shift. As Aurora came along, careers changed, life became busier and overnight hikes gradually became less frequent than we'd have liked. The love of walking never disappeared - it simply took a back seat for a while. The Three Capes Track felt like the perfect opportunity to reconnect with something we'd
both missed while introducing Aurora to a style of adventure that
had played such a big part in our own lives.
Ordinarily, a walk this well-known - and dare we say, a little commercial - wouldn't have been high on our list. We're usually drawn to places where tyre tracks disappear, campsites are little more than a clearing in the bush, and seeing another person is the exception rather than the rule. But every adventure deserves to be judged on its own merits, and Parks Tasmania has created something rather clever. Rather than trying to simulate remote wilderness, the Three Capes Track gives ordinary people access to extraordinary country while carefully protecting one of Tasmania's most fragile coastal environments. Raised boardwalks, engineered stone paths and purpose-built huts concentrate visitors onto a single corridor, allowing the surrounding landscape to remain remarkably untouched.
For Aurora, it represented something special too. At just nine years old, this would be her longest overnight bushwalk yet - three nights carrying her own backpack from start to finish. It wasn't a leap into the unknown for her. After months exploring Australia, climbing mountains and spending more time outdoors than many adults ever do, this simply felt like the natural next step. Watching her shoulder her pack each morning wasn't about pride in overcoming adversity - it was about watching your child discover the same love of bushwalking that had shaped so much of our own lives.
This adventure also included Tess's sister Kerina, whose company guaranteed there would be plenty of laughs, plenty of singing and the sort of conversations that only sisters, aunts, and nieces seem
able to have.
Like many adventures, though, this one almost started with a raised heart rate.
Checking in at Melbourne Airport, I declared our hiking stove, something we had done on previous domestic flights without issue. The stove and fuel bottle had both been thoroughly cleaned and ventilated, but this time the answer was a polite yet firm no. There wasn't much to discuss. I jumped back on the shuttle bus, raced out to the long-term car park, unlocked the car, stashed the stove inside and hurried back to the same bus which took me back to the terminal while everyone else waited. Crisis averted… or so we thought.
Less than an hour later, after clearing security, three of our four boarding passes suddenly became invalid. As most of the flight boarded around us, airline staff calmly worked through the issue before eventually reissuing new passes. We made the flight, although our carefully selected seats together had disappeared in the process. Ironically, after finally settling into my allocated seat, the two seats beside me remained empty for the entire journey. Sometimes travel has a funny sense of humour.
Tasmania quickly reminded us that winter here is a little different. The air felt colder than Melbourne's, but somehow cleaner too - the sort of crisp cold that wakes you up rather than sends you searching for another jumper. Collecting the hire car introduced the next challenge. Three adults, and one excited nine-year-old and four fully loaded hiking packs don't naturally fit inside a tiny Hyundai Accent, but with enough determination and some world-class Tetris skills, everything - and everyone - eventually squeezed inside.
The afternoon was deliberately uncomplicated. We checked into our accommodation, sorted our gear, repacked our bags after the airport drama and wandered out in search of dinner. Quite by accident, we stumbled across a small Malaysian restaurant that would become one of the unexpected highlights of the trip. The food was outstanding, exactly the sort of hearty meal you hope to find before several days on the trail. None of us knew it then, but we'd spend our final night in Hobart unsuccessfully trying to get a table there again in a few days’ time.
The following morning, we drove to Port Arthur, where the adventure truly began. While most visitors come here to explore Australia's most significant convict settlement, Three Capes walkers gather for something entirely different. After a briefing covering hut etiquette, biosecurity and track conditions, there was just enough time for one final luxury - a proper barista-made coffee - before climbing aboard a Pennicott Wilderness Journeys boat.
It's a brilliant way to begin the walk because the Three Capes Track doesn't actually start with walking. It starts by sea.
As the boat hugged the coastline, the scale of the Tasman Peninsula immediately became apparent. Towering Jurassic dolerite cliffs, some exceeding 300 meters in height, rose almost vertically from the ocean while Australian fur seals lounged lazily on offshore rocks. Formed around 180 million years ago, these remarkable columns of volcanic rock would become our constant companions over the next four days. From the water they looked impossibly sheer, sculpted by millions of years of relentless Southern Ocean swell.
Eventually the skipper eased the boat onto the lonely shoreline of Denmans Beach. There are no roads here. No car parks. No cafés. One by one, walkers stepped ashore before the boat quietly disappeared back around the headland.
Looking back, that was probably my favourite moment of the entire trip.
Only minutes earlier civilisation had felt close. Then suddenly it was gone. The sound of the engine faded into the distance, leaving nothing but four family members, four backpacks and a narrow walking track disappearing into the Tasmanian bush. It was one of those rare moments that instantly resets your thinking. Weeks of planning, booking flights, packing gear and checking weather forecasts were over. There was only one thing left to do.
Walk.
The trail wastes little time easing you into the rhythm of life on foot. Rather than immediately revealing dramatic coastal panoramas, it begins beneath towering eucalypts where filtered winter light spills across the forest floor. Every so often the trees part just enough to tease glimpses of the Southern Ocean before closing in once again. It's clever trail design. The Three Capes Track doesn't reveal everything at once. Instead, it builds anticipation, allowing each spectacular viewpoint to feel earned.
One of the first things that struck us was the quality of the track itself. Experienced bushwalkers sometimes dismiss heavily engineered trails, but there is something refreshing about walking a path that allows you to actually look around instead of constantly staring at your feet. Extensive boardwalks, carefully laid stone steps and thoughtful drainage protect the fragile environment while making the walking enjoyable. There are still plenty of climbs and no shortage of opportunities to remember you're carrying everything on your back, but your energy is spent appreciating the landscape rather than battling mud or rough footing.
As people who normally travel by four-wheel drive, we couldn't help comparing this style of adventure to our usual trips. Normally we're checking maps, choosing tracks, airing tyres down, looking for campsites or wondering where to pull up for the night. Here, someone else had already solved those problems. We loved it. Instead of worrying about logistics, we found ourselves listening to birds, noticing moss-covered logs and stopping because Aurora had found something interesting beside the trail. Adventure hadn't changed. Only the pace had.
Aurora absolutely thrived. There was no complaining about the backpack. Instead, she and I developed what became the running joke of the entire trip: identifying animal s**t. Every few hundred meters another mysterious pile beside the trail demanded investigation.
"Wallaby?"
"Quoll?"
"Devil?"
Neither of us claimed to be wildlife experts, but that certainly didn't stop us becoming increasingly confident in our entirely unqualified opinions. It became a game that lasted all four days. Unfortunately, although evidence of Tasmanian Devils seemed to appear everywhere, the owners themselves remained remarkably elusive. Aurora desperately wanted to see one in the wild, and although we quietly hoped it might happen, this wasn't the trip where that particular dream came true.
Not all the wildlife proved so shy. Wallabies regularly appeared only meters from the track, often stopping to watch us just as curiously as we watched them, while a couple of echidnas wandered methodically through the leaf litter, blissfully unconcerned by the audience they'd attracted. Tasmania has a wonderful way of reminding you that you don't always have to go searching for wildlife - you simply need to slow down enough to notice it.
Lunch was enjoyed on a secluded pebble beach, where wraps filled with cheese, salami, hummus and salad somehow tasted better than they ever would at home. That's one of the great joys of walking. Food doesn't have to be fancy to feel memorable. A simple lunch overlooking a spectacular coastline becomes a highlight in its own right.
By early afternoon the trees began to thin before Surveyors Hut emerged from the coastal heath. Perched high above the cliffs with sweeping views towards Cape Raoul, it ended up being our favourite hut of the trip. Large expanses of glass framed the landscape rather than competed with it, while warm timber interiors made it feel welcoming without ever detracting from the wilderness outside. Everything about the design encouraged you to stop, sit quietly and simply admire where you were.
The afternoon slipped away on the deck as walkers gathered to compare stories, photography gear and hiking experiences while the winter light slowly transformed the coastline. Blues deepened across the Southern Ocean, the cliffs glowed orange and clouds drifted lazily overhead. It was one of those evenings where nobody really wanted to go inside.
Dinner was simple - soups, homemade dehydrated meals and the occasional Radix meal - but after a day on the trail, it felt surprisingly luxurious. Then came one of the biggest surprises of the trip. During the evening briefing, our Parks Tasmania host performed A Whale of a Poem of Prodigious Proportions. Funny, thoughtful and unexpectedly captivating, it left an entire room of strangers sitting in complete silence before breaking into applause. It made such an impression that, back at Port Arthur several days later, we tracked down a copy printed on a tea towel to bring home as our souvenir.
As darkness settled over Surveyors Hut, frogs called from somewhere below the cliffs while the Southern Ocean continued its timeless rhythm beyond the headland. Tomorrow promised mist, rain and another completely different side of the Tasman Peninsula, but already the Three Capes Track had reminded us why slowing down can sometimes reveal more than travelling further ever could.
The following morning we woke to a completely different world.
The weather changed overnight, replacing the sunshine that had welcomed us to Surveyors Hut with drifting mist, light rain and low cloud that wrapped itself around the
forest. For some walkers that might have been disappointing, but there is something special about walking through cool temperate forest as wisps of cloud weave silently between towering eucalypts and every fern glistens with tiny droplets of water. The mist didn't hide the landscape - it transformed it. It slowed us down, drawing our attention to details we'd have walked straight past on a sunny day: vivid green moss clinging to fallen logs, delicate fungi emerging from damp timber and the unmistakable earthy scent of a wet Tasmanian forest.
One of the things that impressed us most throughout the walk was just how quickly the scenery changed. The Three Capes Track may only cover around 48 kilometers, but it passes through an extraordinary variety of environments. One moment you're surrounded by towering gums and sheltered forest, the next you're walking across exposed coastal heath shaped by decades of relentless Southern Ocean winds before the track ducks quietly back beneath the trees. Every bend seemed to reveal another completely different landscape, making it almost impossible to lose interest in what lay around the next corner.
Our wildlife investigations also continued with great enthusiasm. Aurora and I maintained our now highly scientific game of 'Whose S**t Is That?' confidently identifying everything from wallabies to possums and, on particularly optimistic occasions, Tasmanian Devils. The evidence continued to suggest devils were everywhere. The devils themselves, however, stubbornly refused to appear.
Winter also proved to be one of the biggest highlights of the trip. The Three Capes Track limits departures throughout the year, but winter numbers are dramatically lower. On our departure there were just fourteen walkers. By most standards that's wonderfully quiet; by Overland Cruiser standards it still felt very social. Even so, there were long stretches where it felt as though we had the peninsula almost entirely to ourselves. There were no queues at lookouts, no waiting for photographs and no sense of being rushed through any of the experience. For us, that alone made winter worth choosing. Yes, the weather is less predictable, and the days are shorter, but with good clothing and sensible preparation, the rewards far outweigh the challenges. After all, you're only outside while you're walking. Once you arrive at camp, warm bunk rooms and sheltered communal kitchens make drying out and relaxing remarkably easy.
By the time Munro Hut came into view later that afternoon, the clouds had begun to lift, revealing spectacular views across the Tasman Sea. Like Surveyors Hut, it blended beautifully into the surrounding landscape, its understated timber design ensuring the wilderness remained the hero. As the afternoon light softened, walkers naturally drifted onto the deck with warm drinks in hand, scanning the ocean in the hope of spotting whales travelling along one of Australia's great migration routes. Every whitecap looked promising. Every distant splash sparked excitement before proving to be another wave. If there was one thing I'd research more carefully next time, it would be the peak whale
migration. Watching humpbacks, southern right whales and orcas from these cliffs would be something truly unforgettable.
That evening someone unpacked what may have been the greatest luxury of the trip – ingredients for a charcuterie board complete with cheese, cured meats, crackers and a handful of treats that had somehow survived two days inside a backpack. It perfectly captured what makes the Three Capes Track so appealing. You're still carrying everything you need, preparing your own meals and living out of your pack, but the huts remove just enough hardship that you can focus almost entirely on the experience. It strikes a wonderful balance between genuine bushwalking and accessible adventure, making it equally appealing for experienced hikers, first-timers and families alike.
By Day Three we'd settled comfortably into the rhythm of trail life. Wake with the sun, boil the kettle, pack packs, shoulder the packs and walk. There was something wonderfully uncomplicated about it. Life had been stripped back to the essentials, and somehow that made every day feel richer.
Today's highlight was the side trip to Cape Pillar, allowing us to leave our larger packs behind at Munro Hut and walk with only the essentials. The difference was immediately noticeable. Without the extra weight the kilometers disappeared beneath our feet, and before long the track emerged from the forest to reveal one of Tasmania's most spectacular coastlines.
Cape Pillar is simply breathtaking. Towering dolerite columns plunge dramatically into the ocean, creating one of Australia's most recognisable landscapes. For generations, sailors approached this coastline with equal parts awe and apprehension. Today, thankfully, we could appreciate it from the safety of a well-designed walking track rather than the deck of a sailing ship battling the Southern Ocean.
One of the first major viewpoints is known as the Lighthouse Keeper's Daughter, overlooking Tasman Island and its remarkably isolated lighthouse. Standing there, it's impossible not to wonder what life must have been like for the families who once called that rugged island home. Supplies, schooling and everyday life revolved entirely around weather and sea conditions, and looking across the water it's difficult not to admire their resilience. For me, this was the most photogenic location of the entire walk. If someone asked for a single image that captured the Three Capes Track, this would probably be it.
Not far beyond lies The Blade, perhaps the most famous section of the track. Photographs never quite prepare you for the experience. The narrow dolerite ridge stretches confidently into space with steep drops falling away on either side. It's not technically difficult, but it certainly commands your attention.
Cape Pillar itself isn't about a single lookout or dramatic viewing platform. Instead, it's the overwhelming sense of scale that stays with you. The cliffs, the ocean and the endless horizon combine to create a landscape that feels timeless. Standing quietly above the Southern Ocean, it was impossible not to reflect on how insignificant we really are, beside the forces that have been shaping this coastline for millions of years.
After returning to Munro Hut for lunch - and finally admitting defeat on the bean shoots that hadn't particularly enjoyed life inside a backpack - we continued the short walk to Retakunna Hut. Nestled within the forest rather than perched dramatically above the coastline, it offered a completely different atmosphere.
Wallabies quietly wandered around the huts as evening settled in, while Aurora remained optimistic that every rustle in the undergrowth might finally reveal the elusive Tasmanian Devil she'd spent three days searching for. It wasn't to be.
Dinner that night carried a slightly different feeling. Tomorrow would be our final day, and although nobody really said it out loud, none of us wanted the trip to end. It's remarkable how quickly carrying your home on your back becomes normal.
The final morning arrived with proper Tasmanian rain. Not a gentle drizzle, but steady rain drumming on the roof while everyone remained tucked inside warm sleeping bags. There wasn't much discussion. Rain jackets came out, and pack covers went on one last time before we quietly stepped onto the track just after sunrise.
The challenge wasn't the distance or the climbing. It was simply keeping moving. Winter has a habit of creeping into you when you stop for too long, so the usual leisurely snack breaks were replaced by quick stops before continuing on. Fortunately, everyone had found their rhythm by now, and before long the rain eased, patches of blue appeared overhead, and Tasmania once again reminded us just how quickly conditions can change.
One final side trip remained - Cape Huay.
If Cape Pillar feels elegant, Cape Huay feels dramatic. Narrow ridges lead to spectacular viewpoints where immense dolerite columns plunge hundreds of meters into the sea. It's one of those places where perspective becomes difficult to judge until someone points out a seabird soaring far below your feet. Only then do you truly appreciate the scale of the cliffs surrounding you.
By this stage we were all beginning to feel four days on the trail. Not exhausted, just comfortably worn in. Our shoulders had long accepted the weight of our packs, but our knees had begun politely reminding us just how many beautifully constructed stone steps the Three Capes Track contains. It was perhaps the only downside of such a well-engineered trail. The surface protects the environment brilliantly, although your joints occasionally wish for something a little softer.
Eventually the track descended towards Fortescue Bay, and conversation naturally turned to favourite moments. Surveyors Hut. Denmans Beach. The Blade. The whale poem. Cape Huay. Our ongoing search for Tasmanian Devils. Everyone's highlights were slightly different, which perhaps says everything about the Three Capes Track. No two people experience it in quite the same way.
As Fortescue Bay finally came into view through the trees, there was that familiar mix of satisfaction and disappointment that seems to accompany every great adventure. Satisfaction that we'd completed the journey, and disappointment that it had come to an end. The shuttle bus quickly returned us to Port Arthur, retracing in under an hour what had taken four unforgettable days on foot.
Civilisation arrived surprisingly quickly. Phones came out. Messages were checked. Our backpacks suddenly felt strangely unnecessary.
Back in Hobart we naturally attempted to revisit the Malaysian restaurant we'd discovered on our first night. Unsurprisingly, it was fully booked. While disappointing, it also felt like a pretty good endorsement of just how good it was. A nearby Chinese restaurant stepped in admirably before a relaxed final morning exploring Hobart, enjoying a café breakfast and letting Aurora burn off the last of her energy at a playground before it was time to head home. Thankfully, the return journey was far less eventful than our departure. No rejected hiking stove. No invalid boarding passes. Just a smooth flight home.
Since returning, one question has come up more than any other.
Would we do it again in winter?
Yes.
In fact, if given the choice between winter and summer, we'd choose winter every time. Yes, you'll need warm clothing, good rain gear and a little flexibility with the weather, but in return you'll enjoy quieter trails, uncrowded huts and a far more peaceful experience. For us, that breathing room made all the difference.
Another common question is whether the Three Capes Track feels too commercial. Before arriving, we quietly wondered the same thing. After all, shuttle buses, boat transfers and purpose-built huts aren't normally our style. Yet somewhere between Denmans Beach and Fortescue Bay our perspective changed. The infrastructure never distracted from the experience - it enhanced it. Instead of pitching tents, collecting water and searching for campsites, we spent that time watching sunsets from cliff tops, photographing extraordinary landscapes, sharing meals and simply enjoying being there. The facilities quietly disappeared into the background, allowing the wilderness to remain exactly where it belonged: front and center.
The trip also taught us something about ourselves. Years of travelling remote Australia have conditioned us to carry equipment for almost every possibility, and our previous experience as bushwalking guides probably reinforced that habit. Looking back, we certainly packed more than we really needed. The Three Capes Track is wonderfully well supported, with excellent infrastructure, resident hosts and straightforward logistics. We'd still carry sensible safety gear next time, but we'd also embrace the simplicity the walk encourages. Sometimes experience teaches you to carry more. Sometimes it teaches you to carry less.
Then there's Aurora.
If this adventure reinforced anything, it's something Tess and I have believed for a long time: children are often capable of far more than adults give them credit for. She carried her own pack, walked every kilometer, embraced every hut with the same excitement she showed on the first day, enthusiastically investigated animal s**t with me and never stopped hoping a Tasmanian Devil would appear around the next corner. None of it surprised us. It simply confirmed what we'd always believed from our own years of introducing people to the outdoors - confidence comes from experience, and adventure is something children grow into by being given the chance.
So, who is the Three Capes Track for?
It's for experienced hikers looking for spectacular scenery without carrying heavy camping gear. It's for families wanting to introduce their children to overnight bushwalking. It's for people tackling their first multi-day walk. And yes, it's even for those of us who would normally drive straight past anything that looks remotely touristy.
Would we recommend it?
Absolutely.
Not because it's Australia's most remote walk. It isn't. Not because it's the hardest. It doesn't pretend to be. We recommend it because it succeeds brilliantly at exactly what it sets out to achieve - opening one of Australia's most spectacular coastlines to ordinary people while carefully protecting the landscape that makes it so special.
As our LandCruiser sat waiting back home and the caravan remained exactly where we'd left it, one thing became very clear. Adventure had never been about the vehicle, the accommodation or how far from civilisation we happened to be. We'd always known that. The Three Capes Track simply reminded us in a different way.
For four days we traded 35-inch tyres for hiking boots, recovery tracks for walking poles, a caravan kitchen for a backpack full of dehydrated meals and the driver's seat for one foot in front of the other.
Different?
Absolutely.
Would we do it again?
In a heartbeat.
In fact, we don't think it'll be long before we're planning another multi-day walk. The Three Capes Track reminded us just how much we'd missed this style of adventure. While raising Aurora naturally shifted our focus for a number of years, this trip felt less like trying something new and more like reconnecting with an old friend. As Aurora grows older and stronger, we're excited to share more of these experiences together and introduce her to even more of Australia's incredible walking trails.
Although next time... we might just carry a slightly lighter backpack.
And if a Tasmanian Devil happened to wander across the track?
Well, that would simply be the perfect excuse to start planning the next adventure.
