The Frenchman’s Track | Deep water and jungle madness in Far North Queensland

We’ve agonized over the decision for two hours, and I can’t procrastinate anymore. We’ve half-walked, half-swum the Pascoe River more times than I can count; it’s finally time to bring the Gladiator across. As I inch into the current, I run through the list of reasons I don’t like this crossing:

Firstly, it’s deep. The channel comes up to my belly button, and when I stepped in a hole while wading, it nudged my armpits. I fully expect to rely on my snorkel for this one.

Secondly, large boulders litter the riverbed, making the bottom unpredictably uneven. We tried to scout the best line through the boulders, even moving a few around, but the sunlight and flowing water make it difficult to see. Any of the larger boulders could easily hang up a diff or lower control arm, stranding me in deep water.

Thirdly, the river is really flowing. This is by far our biggest concern, and we’re worried about the water pushing us downstream, over boulders, into much deeper water. We’re hoping to avoid this; I keep the winch line so tight it actually moves the Jeep. I’m hoping the tension will at least keep my nose pointed in the right direction.

“Frenchman’s was probably built in the ‘60s to access the Iron Mountain Range during a gold rush, and to this day, it’s one of the more challenging 4×4 tracks in Far North Queensland.”

Finally, there might be crocodiles, and not just freshies, but, their toothier saltwater cousins, which are absolutely deadly. It’s insane that this is the last thing I’m worried about, but the depth, boulders, and flow are more concerning now than man-eating crocodiles.

I inch forward over more boulders and can hear nothing other than sloshing water as the river slowly begins to flow up and over the front corner of the hood.

The Frenchman’s Track

Frenchman’s track was probably built in the ‘60s to access the Iron Mountain Range during a gold rush, and to this day, it’s one of the more challenging 4×4 tracks in Far North Queensland. Completing the track requires crossing two major rivers, the Pascoe and the Wenlock, which change in depth and flow dramatically over the seasons. Even during our visit in the “dry,” their depths can change by feet in just hours.

“After planning Australian adventures packed with the hardest 4×4 tracks of my life, Frenchman’s was everything I’d dreamed of.”

Only the most well-equipped vehicles tackle Frenchman’s track, and it would be foolish to attempt solo. With safety and recovery in mind, we team up with Josh and Georgie (in the Land Cruiser) and Brad and Kristy (in the GU Patrol ute). We last tackled the CREB Track together, where Josh demonstrated he has no fear of monster wheel lifts, and Brad demonstrated his love of using his right foot. No matter what happens on this one, I’m certain it won’t be boring.

We rendezvous at Chili Beach in Iron Range National Park, one of Australia’s most isolated, northerly beaches. At 12.5 degrees latitude south, we’re in tropical paradise—white sand, turquoise ocean, and palm trees laden with coconuts. Unfortunately, that means we also have to contend with locals: monster saltwater crocodiles and deadly jellyfish. It’s a sad irony that the more stunning northern Australia becomes, the deadlier the water is.

On The Trail

After airing down, we make progress through wombat holes and deeply rutted sections of track. It’s badly corrugated, forcing us to keep the speed down. Quickly, the jungle gives way to dusty scrubland with views over the Iron Range, and as we move deeper in, we encounter enormous termite mounds.

These towering dirt columns are often taller than me and are home to billions of termites. Their architecture has been studied for decades: they orient to the cardinal points, maximizing cooling and minimizing heating. Across Northern Australia, termites build nests in unique designs, each perfectly adapted to their specific environment.

The rutted track and wombat holes are the perfect opportunity to show off the Gladiator’s flex, and with Katie at the wheel we crawl through every obstacle, the cab barely tilting.

After dropping down rutted ledges, we arrive at the Pascoe River. In flood, it’s a dozen feet deep, but at low water you could walk across and stay dry. In either of those extremes, the decision to cross or not basically makes itself. As we wade in, we quickly realize our decision lies in the gray zone: maybe we should, or maybe we really, really shouldn’t.

Josh and I are reluctant, but Brad doesn’t want to turn tail. Eager to keep us moving, we make a pact. Brad will go first, but if he makes it relatively unscathed, we must follow.

“The rutted track and wombat holes are the perfect opportunity to show off the Gladiator’s flex, and with Katie at the wheel we crawl through every obstacle, the cab barely tilting.”

Josh wades across and secures Brad’s winch to a tree on the far side; he’ll be a spotter and pull any slack winch line. I’m at Brad’s tailgate with Josh’s winch – if he gives the signal, I’ll pull Brad’s truck backwards out of the river. After running over the plan multiple times and with everyone in place, the time has come. Brad eases in, and just as the depth and flow start to get serious, he uses his patented right foot technique and in seconds has crawled out of the depths and reached the bank in one piece.

While Josh and I are relieved, our adrenaline quickly begins to peak. Brad’s success means we’re next.

After resetting the winch ropes, Josh lines up and repeats Brad’s performance. He slowly inches into the water before rapidly moving up and out of the deepest section.

Being last in the lineup means there’s no backout plan for me. No matter what , I’m committed to pushing through. I let the winch pull the Jeep for the first few feet, and just as the river starts to flow over the hood, I use a little throttle to climb onto the biggest rock. In low range first with both diff locks and the front sway bar disconnected, I have no trouble gripping, and I move onto the larger boulders easily. Soon Brad is working overtime to pull in slack winch line, and I arrive at the far bank, grinning like mad.

Mudholes and washouts

After the excitement we stop for a trackside lunch before continuing on, feeling proud to have cleared such a large obstacle. While we have little idea what lies ahead, we’re absolutely certain we don’t want to retrace our steps across the Pascoe.

As we push further north, we leave tropical rainforest behind for dry, dusty, red dirt caked on the trees lining the track. We tackle the occasional mud pit and soggy section but keep enough momentum in the sticky stuff.

Later in the afternoon we arrive at the Wenlock River, which is wider and shallower than the Pascoe, a little lower and a little swampier, and I can’t help feeling it looks like croc habitat. We enter the soft sand one at a time, driving along the riverbed for a hundred meters. The bottom is firm, and none of us has any trouble leaving the water before tackling a short, steep climb up and out of the riverbed.

The shadows grow longer as we navigate the final wombat holes and corrugations, before bursting onto the Peninsula Development Road just as the sun kisses the horizon. As we air up, a family of wild pigs scurries across the track, with the boar keeping a close eye on us. We’re happy he decides we’re no threat. Ten minutes later, we’re heading towards the edge of the continent.

An Adventure To Remember

After planning Australian adventures packed with the hardest 4×4 tracks of my life, Frenchman’s track was everything I’d dreamed of. I pushed my limits, successfully fording the most technical river I’ve ever attempted.

We worked as a team to overcome challenges, and I’m happy with how well we communicated, planned, and safely executed each obstacle. I’m thankful to spend time with people who approach difficult situations in the same careful, analytical manner I do, though I learned a thing or two from Brad’s slightly more gung-ho approach.

Tackling Frenchman’s track with friends meant I could push harder than I’m comfortable when out solo, and it also made for a lot of laughter and good times. If you ever find yourself in Far Northern Queensland, I highly recommend having a crack at Frenchman’s track. I guarantee you won’t forget it.

Join adventurer Dan Grec on his expeditions around the world on YouTube and Instagram @TheRoadChoseMe.