Surrounded by mountains and lashed constantly by wild winds and rain, its people bunker down and turn to each other for peace and recovery.

The damage inflicted on its environment over decades is still apparent in the scars on the landscape, and in the red blood its Queen river bleeds.

But there is little tolerance for criticism, and no appetite for condescension.

In 2019, a documentary by The Guardian painted Queenstown as wounded and struggling to heal after generations of reliance on industry had faltered and festered.

The experience led West Coast Mayor Phil Vickers to say the community would be "a bit more cautious" the next time a film crew came to town.

And following a tragic death at a nearby mine six months later media were, understandably, shunned.

But 12 months on from that point, during a year where any existing trauma was exacerbated by the COVID-19 pandemic, there exists a tentative optimism.

For artist David Fitzpatrick, the silver linings of the pandemic shine particularly brightly in Queenstown.

Indeed, a short series was filmed in the town late last year and the production crew was, from all accounts, embraced.

"I know there's a lot of bad news with COVID but gee whiz... families may have got closer together. I think it's going to bring that community back again."

The optimism is saddled with an abundance of caution, but it is broadly recognised as opportunity, and hope for the future.

There is a misconception that the Royal Linda Hotel burned. That anything not fireproof was destroyed by flames shortly after the doors were closed in mid 20th Century.

But, the building's new owner Zara Trihey says, that is not the case.

"Last drinks was in 1952, and after that the locals just came and looted the whole thing," she said, laughing.

Ms Trihey bought the iconic property at Linda and relocated to Queenstown last year and is in the process of refurbishing the adjoining cafe.

The cafe will be open again, for the first time in eight years, by Easter and through tourism and local patronage she hopes it will be a hub at the end of the Lyell Highway.

But it is her grand plans to refurbish and rebuild the hotel, including making a function room of the entire top floor, allowing for sweeping views of the surrounding mountains, which is getting the most attention.

The brutalist structure which would have been a grand and opulent hotel 100 years ago is now home only to an indoor jungle and whatever critters find their way inside - not with difficulty, as there is currently no doors, windows or roof.

"There was houses all down this road, there was Anglican churches, three pubs and two football teams," she said.

"We're sitting on a gold mine. This is where the gold was. Apparently the last nugget was found in the 1930s."

And though she is not seeking to claw gold from the foothills again, she believes there is fortune to be found.

Ms Trihey does not expect to rely on mountain bikers when the Mount Owen trails open, but she is excited about their presence - particularly because one of the trails will end just down the road from the hotel's front door.

That is, once it has a front door again.

Back over the hill at Queenstown, another iconic building is being repurposed.

David Fitzpatrick grew up in Queenstown when the hills were barren and non-mining opportunities were thin on the ground.

So, he went underground.

Like many young men who grew up in the region, he made a decent living in the mines - good enough, at least, to buy a Harley and leave for about two decades.

When he returned to care for his ill mother in 2015, something had changed.

"I came back on the Harley in 2015 in the middle of winter, and I couldn't believe it - all the trees and the greenery.

"I left when it was all brown and orange. Beautiful colours, but nothing up there.

"That correlation to nature is what has made this place grow. It has given it a bit more life, I suppose."

Inspired by his time in the mines, and the rewilding of the surrounding hills, he and his partner bought the old dancehall in town and have repurposed it into a home and studio gallery.

Mr Fitzpatrick said the burgeoning arts scene, championed by the Unconformity Festival and local talent, is being complemented by the renewed interest in the surrounding outdoors.

Importantly, however, he says that the region's existing mining and timber industries can exist alongside the newer tourism adjacent industries.

"It can flourish once again, this place. Not just Queenstown but the whole of the West Coast."

And on the mountain which separates Linda and Zara from Queenstown and David is Simon French and his team from Dirt Art.

Though there are those who may see the biking trails being built on Mount Owen as the council putting all its eggs in one basket, there are few detractors.

In January West Coast Council deputy mayor Shane Pitt said the trails will be a "huge lift" for tourism to the West Coast, after what had a been a disappointing summer for the industry.

Mr French, as the owner of Maydena Bike Park, is no stranger to seeing adventure tourism revive a town.

"I've never seen it so busy with locals," he said.

"It has been really nice to see Tasmanians discover and rediscover the West Coast."

Purely in a mountain bike sense, he is acutely aware that Tasmania is placed to seize the sport's Australian market while international travel remains on hold.

And Queenstown, with a unique offering of mountain biking to complement the arts, environment and industry, could well find itself at the centre of that market.