You've probably seen the photos. Those moody, mist-drenched shots of ancient Huon pines reflected in water so dark it looks like spilled ink. That’s the Franklin Gordon Wild Rivers National Park. But honestly? A postcard doesn't even come close to the sheer, crushing scale of this place. It’s a massive chunk of the Tasmanian Wilderness World Heritage Area, and it’s basically the reason the modern environmental movement in Australia even exists.
Most people think "national park" and imagine manicured trails or a nice visitor center with clean toilets. Franklin-Gordon isn't really that kind of place. It’s raw. It’s loud. The Gordon River is deep and deceptively still in parts, while the Franklin is a chaotic, rock-crunching beast that breaks people’s spirits and kayaks in equal measure. This is the heart of the "wild" in Southwest Tasmania. If you go in unprepared, the landscape won't care.
Why the Franklin River is actually famous
If you weren't around in the early 1980s, you might not realize that this entire park was almost erased. The Tasmanian government wanted to dam the Franklin River for hydroelectric power. It turned into one of the biggest political brawls in Australian history. We’re talking thousands of people arrested in peaceful protests and a High Court case that changed how federal and state powers work in this country.
The "No Dams" campaign wasn't just about a river; it was about the soul of the wilderness. Because of those activists, the Franklin remains the last major wild river system in Australia that hasn't been dammed. When you stand on the banks today, you aren't just looking at water. You’re looking at a victory.
The Huon Pine: Trees older than empires
One of the weirdest things about the park is the Huon Pine (Lagarostrobos franklinii). These things grow incredibly slowly—maybe a millimeter a year. Some of the trees standing right now are over 2,000 years old. Even crazier? Scientists found a stand of these trees at Mount Read that are genetically identical clones of an organism that has been alive for over 10,000 years.
Walking through a grove of these is trippy. The wood is saturated with methyl eugenol, a natural oil that makes it waterproof and rot-resistant. It smells like spice and old libraries. Back in the day, "piners" would risk their lives to haul this timber out for shipbuilding. Now, they are strictly protected, and seeing one in the wild feels like meeting a living dinosaur.
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Getting there without losing your mind
Most travelers experience the park via the Lyell Highway (A10). It’s the only road that actually cuts through the heart of the park. It’s a winding, stomach-churning stretch of tarmac that connects Hobart to Strahan.
Don't just drive through. Stop.
The Franklin River Nature Trail is a short, easy walk near the bridge. It’s perfect for people who want to see the mossy, temperate rainforest without committing to a week-long expedition. The air here is different. It’s cold, wet, and oxygen-rich. Everything is covered in a carpet of green—liverworts, mosses, and ferns fighting for every inch of space.
Then there’s Frenchmans Cap.
This is the big one. It’s a massive white quartzite dome that towers over the landscape. If you want to hike it, you need to be serious. It used to involve a legendary slog through "Sodden Lodore," a swamp that would swallow hikers to their waists. Thankfully, the track has been upgraded with a lot of boardwalk, but it’s still a multi-day commitment that requires top-tier gear and a decent level of fitness. The view from the top? On a clear day, you can see half of Tasmania. On a bad day, you won't see your own hand in front of your face.
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The Gordon River Cruises: The easy way in
If you aren't into shivering in a tent, you’ve basically got one option: the cruises out of Strahan. These boats take you into the mouth of the Gordon River.
The highlight for most is Heritage Landing. You get off the boat and walk through a prehistoric forest. You'll see the "Cenotaph," a fallen Huon Pine that has been laying on the forest floor for centuries without rotting. It’s a stark reminder of how different the biology is here compared to the mainland. The water on the Gordon is famous for its reflections, caused by the high tannin content from the button grass plains upstream. It looks like a mirror made of cold tea.
The bits nobody tells you
The weather here is a literal protagonist in your story. It rains. A lot. We’re talking over 2,500mm a year. It’s not "maybe it will rain," it’s "when will it stop?" The Roaring Forties winds hit the West Coast and dump everything they’ve got right onto these mountains.
- Leeches: They are a thing. If you go off-trail or even on some of the bushier tracks, you’ll find them. They aren't dangerous, just annoying and a bit gross.
- Reception: Forget about it. Once you pass Derwent Bridge heading west, your phone becomes a very expensive paperweight until you get close to Strahan.
- Fuel: Fill up. There are huge stretches with zero services. If you run out of gas in the middle of the park at 5 PM, you’re in for a very cold night.
Realities of the Franklin River rafting trip
Rafting the Franklin is a bucket-list item for hardcore adventurers. It’s not a lazy float. It’s an 8 to 14-day commitment depending on where you put in and the river levels.
If the water is too low, you’re dragging a heavy rubber raft over rocks for days. If it’s too high, the river becomes a deathtrap of "strainers" and massive rapids like the Cauldron or the Great Unknown. You have to portage (carry everything) around the most dangerous sections. Most people go with commercial outfitters like World Expeditions or Roaring 40s Kayaking because they know the river's moods. You sleep under rock overhangs or in tiny clearings. It’s brutal, exhausting, and probably the most life-changing thing you can do in Australia.
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What about Kutikina Cave?
This is a site of immense significance. Located on the banks of the Franklin, Kutikina Cave provided evidence of Aboriginal occupation dating back over 20,000 years. During the peak of the last Ice Age, this was the southernmost human occupation on Earth. The discovery of stone tools and bone fragments here was a massive factor in the High Court's decision to stop the dam. It proved that the area wasn't just "wilderness"—it was a cultural landscape with a history that predates the Egyptian pyramids by millennia. Out of respect for the Palawa people (Tasmanian Aboriginals), visitors are generally asked to stay away from sensitive archaeological sites.
Planning your trip: Actionable Steps
Don't just wing it. This isn't a theme park.
- Check the Tasmanian Parks and Wildlife Service (PWS) website for track closures. Landslips and fallen trees happen constantly.
- Buy a Parks Pass. You need one to enter any national park in Tasmania. The money actually goes back into maintaining the tracks and facilities. You can get them online or at the visitor center in Strahan.
- Gear up for four seasons. Even in January, the temperature can plummet to near freezing if a southern front blows up from Antarctica. Bring high-quality thermals and a waterproof shell that actually works.
- Download offline maps. Since there's no service, apps like AllTrails or Gaia GPS with downloaded layers are lifesavers. Even better, carry a physical map and a PLB (Personal Locator Beacon) if you’re doing anything more than a 30-minute stroll.
- Respect the "Leave No Trace" principles. The ecosystem here is fragile. Soil pathogens like Phytophthora cinnamomi (root rot) can be carried on your boots and kill entire forests. Use the wash stations if you see them.
If you’re looking for a place to feel small, this is it. The Franklin Gordon Wild Rivers National Park doesn't care about your Instagram feed or your schedule. It’s a place that demands respect and rewards you with a type of silence you can't find anywhere else. Whether you’re just stopping for a quick walk at the Nelson Falls or committing to the full Frenchmans Cap trek, you're stepping into a landscape that has remained largely unchanged for millions of years. That’s a rare thing in 2026.
Pack your raincoat. Actually, pack two.