Natureloverswalks

April 23, 2024April 23, 2024

Hugel 2024 Apr

Every time somebody says they want to go walking with me, I feel so fortunate. This weekend was a family one: a three-generation special, and our chosen mountain (at Kirsten’s choosing) was Hugel. Great choice. I haven’t been there since my early days of Abelling, when I climbed it in glary conditions with a bad camera. This time, we slept up high, nice and close, so we could linger on top until the light gave us glorious conditions for our descent.

We wanted beautiful light and plenty of time for our plans, so drove down the night before to Derwent Bridge. I had no idea that we would be the last guests checked in before the Hotel closed the next day. We felt very sad about this!!! That Hotel is a Tassie icon for bushwalkers. I fear for its character at the hands of NRMA who will doll it up for tourists’ dubious tastes.

Thus at 8.45, which is early for my family if not for me, we took our first steps along the track to Shadow Lake. The fungi were superb; the track, mossy and lush. We all greatly enjoyed it. That section took 1 hr 15, so I was very hungry by the time we arrived at the beach Kirsten had in mind. Time for a snack, a drink and a shoulder break.

Refreshed, on we went past Forgotten Lake, where the steep climb up the escarpment begins. Steep climbs are fun, even if we did take it pretty slowly. Our packs were heavy. I had my tripod and camera equipment aboard as I was hoping to photograph an aurora, and like the tripod for dawn and dusk at all times. Kirsten was carrying a lot to make sure Gus enjoyed it.

The last part of the climb, above Dip Lake (a nameless tarn).

We bypassed Little Hugel, saving it for the next day, and continued on to a nameless tarn, where, despite freezing temperatures, Kirsten and Gus swam while I tried to photograph the occasion. Neither of them lasted more than a second, and I was still trying to get a good angle when they had already bounced with astonishing eagerness out of the gelid water. We declared it an early lunch, and they tried to warm back up in the sun while we ate.

The next section did not last long, so soon enough we were selecting our real estate for the night, a decision not based on anything mildly practical like water availability, but rather, on view. It so happened there was a little water nearby, but I was prepared to go back to wherever water might have been in order to enable a good view.

Site chosen, tents up, a snack had and it was time to set out. Gus was still going well. He had done his first ever bushbashing with a heavy (for him) pack. Hugel looked nice and close, but we knew that could be deceptive, especially with a pre-teen on board.

We walked along the ridge, and then attacked the rocks. We all felt the cairns were perfectly placed: not so near each other that you felt like a puppet or a robot, but often enough so that you had feedback that your route was the one intended. There was room for error and experimentation, which we appreciated.

We stayed a nice long time on top: we had plenty of time for the descent and we wanted to enjoy the low light to come, so stayed there until it began to happen.

I was thrilled to see young Gus getting out his camera and photographing aspects of the scenery that appealed to him. People who are sensitive to the beauty around them are usually people who are keen to protect and preserve it. He also chose to photograph quite a lot of fungi.

The day cooled down very quickly. I tested for an aurora before I turned in for the night, but nothing was happening. The other two slept in our old Macpac Olympus, a beautifully comfortable tent, albeit a heavy one. My tent, on the other hand, allowed far too much cold mist to circulate around me, and the wind to brush my face far too often. Bad choice of tent. I was not surprised when I tested conditions later to find the mist had closed in. I did a few checks, but ascertained it wasn’t even worth getting up for dawn, which is not a bad thing, as that wet, cold air was not to my liking, and the wind was pretty stiff by dawn.

Breakfast was a cosy affair in their tent, but packing up was pretty miserable. I even had trouble separating the pole segments in order to dismantle my tent. I was relieved to be setting out, knowing that the exercise would warm me up.

We liked the mist surrounding Little Hugel, so knew we would enjoy that small climb, and we were right.

There were lots of fungi in the forest to make the return journey exciting. We spent time with the best of them, but made sure we were fast enough for a nice big hamburger at the Hungry Wombat. Kirsten was excited to discover they could even do a gluten-free version for her. Not every such place is so accommodating.

April 18, 2024

Orienteering SA 2024

Playing on sand dunes along the coast prior to race 1.

Unfortunately (for photography), my focus this trip was on Orienteering, and, perhaps equally unfortunately, the weather was very hot for Taswegians (probably for everybody). Thus, on competition days, instead of having fun shooting other people, I was getting ready to run, or recovering from having done so (which basically means drinking large quantities and eating even larger ones, looking out for the children and cheering them in, or lazily chatting to friends whilst ridding my body of disgusting, sweaty gear. Once everybody from our family had finished and friends temporarily farewelled, it was off to the local (Murray Bridge) pool for hours spent slipping down slides or swimming, of course with some other competitors. I took a few iPhone shots of that, but nothing serious: record shots, not actual photography.

Thus the only shots I took in which I tried to capture mood or beauty, were mostly done on days before or after the competitions. I was a prisoner of place, given that proximity to events and a reduction in travel for the children were prioritised. We landed in Adelaide, stayed near the coast, retreated to the Adelaide Hills for the four days of competition, and afterwards, travelled down the nearby Fleurieu Peninsula, exploring some of its beaches.

The weather post competition was grey to drizzling, and we all felt like a rest after racing in extreme heat on the previous days. It was time to read books and play games.

Despite all those brilliant excuses, I did get a chance to do some photography. I wanted some BiF photos (Birds in Flight), and the children and I had a hilarious time in which they tried to make perched birds fly, and I tried to capitalise on their efforts. Much stomping and shouting ‘Boo’ resulted, but not much good photography. The attempt was great fun, and surely that’s the point of it all.

One of my favourite moments of the trip was the first morning of our camping (an orienteers-only venue in the middle of nowhere). To the east a glorious sunrise was unfolding. I just didn’t feel like setting up. I took an iPhone shot or two to record it, and then went out and stood under a huge gum tree, its branches laden with choraling magpies. The sights and sounds filled me with peace and joy. There was one other person out under the same tree, doing exactly what I was doing and soaking it all in sans camera. We made a brief exchange and then I realised I was chatting to a guy I’d met while we were both in the forest shooting at a previous O event: someone whose photos I admire, Kelvin Meng. Ho ho. The only two photographers in the joint were the only two to be up watching the sunrise, but both of us were too absorbed in it to want to take a shot. We stood admiring together in combined worship, unsullied by words (or camera gear).

It was, as ever, terrific to catch up with old friends, to reconnect with people I’d been on teams with in yesteryear, or competed against, or with, here or abroad, and to see the kids making firm friends with other kids, many of whom turned out to be the children of people either Kirsten or I or both competed against, or with, decades ago.

The other aspect of the trip I loved is the way Orienteering leads its competitors to explore new and different parts of Australia, to see and feel and smell not-yet-experienced parts of this amazing land of ours. I love staying at tiny towns I’d never heard of before; driving from there to the events and absorbing that slice of the world; and getting ready for the race imbibing all the smells and sights and sounds of this new location. Every race smells different.

April 16, 2024

Inglis Escarpment 2024 Apr

Inglis escarpment is not a name on the map, but where we went has no name, and I had to call this blog something, so I settled on Inglis Escarpment: after all, Mt Inglis was up behind us and we were on a wonderful escarpment with grandstand views, so hence I have given the area that blog name so I can refer to it.

Ramaria samuelsii. Not too many fungi, but at least we got some.

I went with my waterfall bagging friend, Adrian. As with our last trip, we had hoped all four of our group could come, but Caedence is off playing cricket in England (congratulations) , and Leandra had other commitments, so the group was whittled down to two.

Our basic plan was to spend more time in the beautiful Bluff River Valley, and revisit Tomahawk Falls. That was the reason given, but really, we both just love spending time in off-track wilderness, imbibing new views and enjoying new vistas on the grand scale, and delighting in the minutiae of nature closer up.

Russula persanguinea plus a waterfall. does it get better than that?

Bit of water bashing, bit of scrub bashing … our idea of fun.

To get off track there, you have to first swallow a fair bit of the Overland Track with its necessary boards and stonework, but we dealt with that pretty efficiently. It hurts the feet, but at least you move through it fairly quickly, and the scenery is still lovely. We had our first short break at Kitchen Hut, another even shorter at the Igloo, and an early lunch somewhat near the Lake Will turnoff, before heading off in that direction to begin other wanderings.

The wise girl pitched her tent upon the rock??? And the wiser man pitched his near a protective bush. No problems: no wind was forecast and no wind came. Thanks for the lovely shot Adrian.

As you can see from the photos, we visited pretty waterfalls, and got a marvellous sunset. I have to confess that several photos were taken from inside my tent, as it was starting to get pretty cold after the sun had set. We were so busy exploring nearer falls that we didn’t have time to get to Tomahawk on day 1.

Sunset. Inglis Escarpment. Sigh. This is also taken from my tent, as it was now getting very cold.

This was intended to be a four-day trip, but when we awoke to rain on day two, and saw the latest forecast was for rain for all the rest of the trip, we decided that we didn’t want to photograph in the rain, and neither did we want to hang around in our tents doing nothing. Walking out in the wet is much nicer than sitting being inactive, so we packed up our gear and returned home, saving Tomahawk for another trip.

Adrian’s stats say we walked 60,000 steps in the two days. My watch says we did 10 hours 40 mins pack-carrying walking (not including any breaks or non-pack exercise), the time pretty much divided evenly between the two days. This was a nice amount of exercise. The rain wasn’t too heavy; the world is good. We both felt perfectly content that the trip had been worth it.

March 11, 2024March 11, 2024

Orienteering 2024 Feb, Mar

Several orienteering friends wanted to see the astro shots I took in the middle of the night while everyone else was sleeping, so I decided to do another post depicting “the other side of orienteering”, only this time, as well as including some of the scenery around our event, I will also include some action shots taken mostly last month, just in case you are tuning in for a different reason and would like to know what Orienteering looks like. I couldn’t take shots of competing this weekend, as our start times were all in a smaller cluster, so I was busy competing myself. I had more time at the event (Hobart O-Fest) in February.

Rising core of the Milky Way with a slight aurora 12.56 a.m.

Milky Way + slight aurora, different angle

I would have loved to have taken more scenery shots, but the weather didn’t cooperate. While I was shooting the astro, the clouds rolled in, and stayed for the rest of the weekend. Considering the fact that it was after 1 a.m. when I stopped, and that I was competing later that day, it was possibly not such a bad thing.

Three highly accomplished orienteers hit the drinks control together: Milla Key, Natasha Key (VIC) and Eszter Kocsik (NSW).

The remaining photos capture some of the action of Orienteering. The first race this long weekend was a sprint around Bicheno, sometimes amongst the rocks of the headland, interweaving that complexity with dashing around the buildings of the local primary school. It was exciting and intense, with people rushing urgently in all directions, concentrating on their maps. Amazingly, nobody accidentally crashed into anyone else. There were eight courses on offer, and hence the large number of directions being taken at the same time. It looked very busy; and it happens to be very stimulating to compete: you are in a tunnel of concentration the whole time, solving control finding with route choice problems whilst reading your map running as fast as you can.

The next day we went bush at Coles Bay, in a “Medium” length course, that most people found to be very long, as the hills were steep, the bush thick, obstacles plenty and the weather hot. Times were not slick, but the challenge was worth it. This day determined the official State Middle Distance Champions in the various age divisions.

Euan Best TAS, reigning Oceania M16 Champion, competing here in M20 elite.

The final day had us move further south, to open rocky terrain near Spiky Beach. The designation was “Long Course”, but my time was about half that of the day before, and I don’t think I was alone. The three different courses gave us lots of technical practice. Many of us are honing our skills to prepare for the Australian Three Day Championships at Easter, to be held near Adelaide. Tasmania does extremely well at the national level.

Some orienteers come in very small sizes. Runnable farmland.

March 1, 2024March 1, 2024

Walford Peak and Marble Bluff 2024 Feb

I have often stared at Walford Peak and wanted to climb it. Last year I organised to do so, but problems cropped up at the last minute. And for some reason, Marble Bluff seems to have bad street cred (it is rather a scrubby beast), so it has also been on the to do list, but to no avail. I looked down on it from the summit of Eldon Peak in 2018 and very much wanted to see its view, but was told it was very hard to reach. Well, it wasn’t a piece of cake, but neither was it overly taxing. Let the actual adventure begin ….

Spicer Track crossing Anthony R, a bit over an hour into the trip.

Here we were, all keen for time in the wilderness and these two mountains in particular. It was to be a five-day trip, as we were also going to explore the Sticht Range. I knew I was running-fit, but last week in the Jubilee Ranges made me question whether I was also pack-carrying fit. That ingredient was gong to be rather essential on this expedition. I set out with uncertainty.

The plan for day 1 (begun after lunch because of driving time) was to walk along Lake Spicer Track until we arrived at just the right place to camp for the first night. The aim was not to go all the way to the lake itself, as we were expecting rather a hefty storm the next night, and the level of the lake might rise enough to turn tents into cute islands in the lake, if the strong winds didn’t blow them down first. We needed a sheltered spot that neither wind nor rain could mar.

Walford Peak view to Mt Murchison, Lake Plimsoll and Lake Rolleston

There was no sign right now of the storm to come. The sky was blue; the day was glorious. Crossing the many creeks and puddles was picturesque and enjoyable, and gave plenty of drinking opportunities. Thus, when we reached the high point on the track just below Walford Peak in just a tad over two hours’ walking time (on the agenda for a later day on the rebound), it was decided not to waste such beautiful weather, and climb it right now. I was thrilled. We dumped our packs and up we went. The bush was pretty thick, but it yielded to energetic shoves, and in a shade under forty minutes, we were at the top. Everything looked glorious from up there. The many lakes in our purview shone with sparkling blue iridescence; countless well-loved peaks towered above with clarity.

Walford Peak view to the Sticht Range (Right) and Lake Plimsoll and Mr Murchison (Left).

Back down on the track once more, descending to our eventual campsite was fun, as said track turned into a creek with cascades that were rather pretty. Soon enough we were beside Lake Dora, and agreed that a point on the road that was a bit of a knoll would be a great place to stop. We had been on the track for about three hours, and had also done eighty minutes without packs to climb Walford Peak, but for some reason that wasn’t quite enough for me, so I went and explored the track further after dinner, and climbed a small bluff for kicks. The view was excellent. Maybe my problem was that I had just eaten the worst dehydrated meal I can remember. The packet said it was vegetarian shepherd’s pie, but it was sickly sweet and made me feel very dissatisfied.

Descending back to the track. Lakes Rolleston and Plimsoll, and Mt Murchison behind.

By the dawn of day two, you could tell that the weather was changing. The air had mood and attitude, and clouds were assembling. We finished off the Lake Spicer track quickly enough, and then began the somewhat long climb up onto Unconformity Ridge. That ascent contained probably the thickest scrub of the day. Once we reached the ridge itself, the terrain varied from patches of thick scrub to long areas of smaller bushes with button grass, both knee to waist high. Only the very last bit was easy going. The actual moving time (ie, breaks not included) was around 3 hours 40 minutes total in each direction, from tent to summit and back (3 hrs 10 off-track). On top of that time, we had a few breaks so everyone could be comfortable, often eating, or just chatting and looking at the view.

Lake Spicer Track. Yes, this water is the track.

Another watery view of Lake Spicer Track

Luckily, we got to inhabit the summit area without rain, but the wind was so strong that hats went flying, and we all huddled for shelter on the leeward side of rocks to have our lunch. The view was disappointingly hazy, not just from approaching bad weather, but also from fires in the Central Highlands. I didn’t take many photos.

We reach Lake Spicer. From here on, it’s all bushbashing

Half an hour after summitting, we were off on the descent, trying, but failing, to beat the oncoming rain. By the time we hit the track, it was raining properly. I was pretty wet on arrival back at the tent. We tried to dry wet garments in the breeze while we had dinner, but things remained quite damp, although no longer dripping.

Marble Bluff view to the north. Eldon Peak towers behind

That night, as I lay in bed, I enjoyed the sound of very angry wind howling above me, often lifting me off the ground as if I were on a magic carpet. It was rather fun. However, a toothache that had been brewing over the preceding days was particularly painful, so I didn’t get much sleep.

Marble Bluff view to the to south: Lake Burbury, Mts Lyell, Owen, Huxley and Jukes

On day three, the rain had settled in. I decided I needed to attend to my tooth as soon as possible, so bailed out of the rest of the agenda, and dashed back to the car. I made it in under three hours, not bothering with any breaks seeing’s I was alone, and find no particular pleasure in sitting in the rain to rest. I drove to where I had reception, made an appointment to see my dentist and bought the strongest pain killers I was allowed (I don’t usually use such things). Right now, it is the middle of the night, but my pain is so great I can’t sleep. I sure made the right decision to come home. The Sticht Range, object of today’s agenda, will just have to wait for another day. My gear was saturated when I reached the car, but I arrived home to a desperately dry Launceston.
Next day (today as I write) I had to have my wisdom tooth extracted. Leaving early was more than a good idea!