As soon as I arranged our Hobart exile berth in Port Huon, months ago, I looked at a map to see what interesting sites were nearby. Hartz Mountains National Park and Hartz Peak we’re intriguing - the edge of the great Southwest Tasmania World Heritage Wildnerness, just 20 miles from the marina. But how would we get there? I considered bicycling there, but a forty mile round trip ride with thousands of feet of climb, plus the hike, seemed too much for one day even for me. And Robin would not make that ride on a folding bike.

Our Top Walks in Tasmania guidebook, as well as several of Robin’s colleagues at CSIRO confirmed that Hartz Peak is the premier day climb in southeast Tasmania. And glimpses of Hartz Peak’s triangular summit positively beckoned as we sailed up the Huon River. To top it off, after Saturday’s unsettled weather, Sunday promised to be mostly sunny - a rare clear day in the mountains.

I tried calling the local taxi company on Saturday. “Maybe if you booked a week ago” was the answer, “I can barely get drivers to cover the bookings I already have.” Robin tried Uber, just for laughs “No cars available.” We took a walk to Geeveston, stalked the resident platypus, and dropped in at the tourist info center for transport ideas. “Just stick out your thumb, that would be the Tassie thing to do” was their advice, “Just don’t take a ride from anyone with a gun or a spear in the car.”

This boomer has not actually stuck his thumb out in thirty years. So we consulted the Google. Hitchhiking is legal in Tasmania but “not recommended” by police. Hitchwiki says Tasmania is a small place, you will get lots of rides, and see the same people more than once. One account of hitchhiking in Tasmania said

“One of our first rides was an old guy. The first thing he said to us was: ‘You shouldn’t get into a car with a guy who has an axe next to him’, while showing the axe with a big grin.”

We figured that on a sunny summer Sunday, there would be heaps of Hobart hikers headed for Hartz, and our our prospects would be pretty good. So I made a sign labeled Hartz with a stick figure climbing a peak and we set up by the road. After texting our children to say “We are going to to hitchhike to the Natl Park and climb Hartz Peak. Just so someone knows in case we disappear without a trace.”

Many cars passed us by. Work trucks. Pickups with intake snorkels. Bright orange muscle cars. A couple of camper vans. Except for the camper vans, none looked like likely hikers. A small, beat up dark red car went by, and the driver seemed to stare at us. Some more trucks. Then the red car was back - he turned around and came back for us. “I can give you a ride to Geeveston - from there the road goes straight to the park.” We hesitated. But we knew we could walk back from Geeveston if we got stuck.

The driver had driven to Port Huon to get water, since there was a water shortage in Dover. Our berth-neighbor in Hobart is from Dover so we asked if he know Jack the fisherman from Dover - “You mean Jack Chesterman? Of course I do …” (That’s another story).

In Geeveston, there was a lot of traffic turning for the antique car and bike show, but not too many cars heading up towards the park. Some work trucks. A small, likely looking car that flashed their lights approvingly but sped by. An SUV with a white bearded fly fisherman we had met on our walk the day before. He stopped a little up the road, but then drove away and turned around after we started walking in his direction - while some likely looking cars passed by. White beard fisherman slowed down and waved at us as he drove back in the other direction.

A white Tesla drove by. “They must be rich people with a second home nearby - not going to the park,” observed Robin. “How long before we give up,” I asked. “Lunchtime.”

But then the Tesla was coming back down the road, pulling into the parking lot next to us, driver rolling down the window. “We can give you a ride” he said, “just let me turn the car around.”

Steve and Linda were a middle aged couple from Launceston (northern Tasmania) who had rented the Tesla for a weekend trip south. They were on the way to Hartz Peak and happy to give us a ride. We swapped stories, fortunately our tales of sailing to Tasmania are unusual enough. Robin mentioned her Antarctic research work - it turns out that Steve’s father had visited Antarctica in order to do some of the engineering work for the Australian Antarctic station. Steve and Linda had moved to Tasmania for the outdoor activities. Like us, their children had grown up and moved away.

We made it to the trailhead in no time. Given the number of parked cars, our prospects for getting a ride back looked pretty good. Steve and Linda passed us and hiked ahead - our joint hiking pace has slowed over the years.

The first two thirds of the climb up Hartz is an easy approach across wet bushland with great views of the triangular peaks of Hartz and Snowy peaks. The flat part of the trail is mostly on boardwalks installed to limit hiker erosion, so it was fast, easy walking. Side trails lead to Lake Esperance and Ladies Tarn, but the walk guidebook says that if the summit is clear, save the side trips for the return in case it socks in later.

The summits were already scraping puffy cumulus clouds, so we kept on as the trail climbed steeply out of the bush to the bench at Hartz Pass, then to a higher bench, then across the loose rocks to the final scramble up the triangular peak, with a dizzying view down to Snowy Peak and its tarn.

The summit was quite crowded when we got there. Wes stopped at the base of the summit scramble to let some early bird hikers head down. There was enough room at the top to find some shelter from the cold wind, eat lunch, and admire the view.

The clouds had lifted just above the summit elevation, allowing a hazy view east to the Entrecesteaux Channel and west to the Tasmanian Wilderness. Hartz Peak is not the highest peak in Tasmania (not even close), but the higher peaks are on the central plateau and are more rounded and with less elevation gain. Nor is Hartz a particularly challenging climb. But it’s conical 1200 meter summit rising from sea level makes for a great 360 view and a very satisfying mountain experience.

The trip down was also splendid. I find the Tasmania alpine bush captivating. Unlike the low alpine vegetation I am used to, Tasmanian alpine banksia and cushion plants grow bush high, flowering in subtle hues of red, orange, and white. With the stone tramping path leading through, this alpine wilderness feels like an exquisite cultivated flower garden.

We detoured to Ladies Tarn and Lake Esperance on the way back. Many return hikers passed us on the way out, and the parking lot was less full when we got there. The first people we asked point blank for a ride had a full car. Others seemed to have back seats cluttered with camping gear. It was three in the afternoon, and we decided to walk to the next trailhead out, hitching along the way, and maybe do the side hike to a Arve Falls if we didn’t get a ride.

Almost no one drove by. When one car passed without stopping, Robin despaired. “We will never get a ride back.” We got to another trailhead, and I went to check the road sign when an SUV came down the road. I fumbled to get out my “Pt Huon/Geeveston” sign, and they drove by just as I got it to unfold.” But they turned around, came back, and asked “Do you need a ride to Geeveston?”

Joss and Nathan were a young couple taking advantage of her mother’s offer to babysit to make it up Hartz Peak without dragging 3 and 8 yo’s along. She’s a photographer, he’s a groundwater hydrologist. So we had plenty to talk about, and they drove us on last Geeveston right to the marina, where we texted our kids to tell them their parents were o.k.