Category: Abel

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Perrins Bluff, Mt Achilles, Mt Thetis 2014 Jan

Perrins Bluff, Mt Achilles, Mt Thetis Jan 2014

Dawn on the final day
I am a person haunted by images, and the names above now evoke a series of wonderful mental pictures. They also connote smells of lemon scented boronia and agastachys odorata, and scenes of our group of hot, tired walkers trying to force a way through the bushy wall that confronted us as we climbed to more picturesque regions.
My story will begin with the first night, at Frog Flats, where we could see our destination up ahead. I had not actually wanted to camp here, but was somewhat placated by the gilded button grass and the numerous incandescent candelabras of bellendena montana, set aglow by the sinking sun.
Pelion West from Perrins Bluff
The trip from Frog Flats to Leonards Tarn is one of those “end justifies the means” journeys. The lower scrub was thick. There was a brief respite in some rainforest, and then the bush got even thicker. It took us three solid hours of shoving to get there, plus another hour spent in waiting, decision making, eating etc to bring the total to four. On several occasions I got spectacularly, almost irretrievably wedged between saplings that just wouldn’t budge despite my best attempts. They’d bent nicely for the five guys with me, but would not yield to my tiny frame. I decided that if I had been doing this solo, I would have died a lonely death by starvation or dehydration, permanently stuck. Maybe like Pooh Bear, clamped in the hole of Rabbit’s entrance after indulging in too much honey, I would have eventually thinned down enough to allow a weak escape.
 

Perrin’s spine from one of its many saddles
From Leonards Tarn onwards, things got better with each passing moment, (almost) justifying the scratchy approach. We quickly gained height and views as we skirted around Achilles to the left and climbed onto the Achilles-Perrins saddle with its picturesque tarns – a perfect camping spot.
From there we stayed to the right of the mountain in the scrub (nothing compared to the battle-fire fight of the morning) until a saddle about ten minutes from the end, when we crossed to the other side of the ridge (SE), walked along the shelf there and popped up an easy climb at the last minute to the summit.
I loved not only the extensive views in all directions of ridge upon ridge of steely mountains, many of which were now old friends, but also the impressive dragon spine of the Bluff that led towards Pelion West and Achilles. It was even better than the similar tail of Mt Pearse.

Perkins Bluff from half way up Achilles
Things got even better! On the way back, three buddies and I decided to also ascend Achilles as part of this day’s takings. We climbed up the first major landslide chute on offer after the tarns in the saddle, tried a bit of landscape rearranging / boulder fire, and were, fortunately all still alive, on the top pretty quickly. By now the sun was starting to end its course for the day, and the mountains had that alluring misty essence to them, with others lit by brilliant contrast of dark, well defined shadows set against aurated protuberances. Perrins was at just the right angle to catch these cooperative rays.

Achilles’ Heel from Achilles summit

I didn’t want to try to emulate Cyclops throwing boulders at people on the way down, so cast a vote for descending on the other side, in the bushes. I really enjoyed the fast plunge down, basically making a bee line for our tents at the tarn in a long slippery slide that you’d pay a fortune to do at a commercial fun park.

Layer upon layer of misty mountains as seen from Achilles
To cap off a perfect day, the setting sun burned the dolerite columns of Pelion West, turning them, and their reflections in the tarn, red. That night, as with the previous one, I chose to leave the tent flap open to see the view better. Once again I was too warm to sleep, so watched the nearly full moon on its course above Pelion West and then Achilles. It sank behind the latter around 2 a.m.

Pelion West from my tent at Leonard’s tarn
The next morning, the same buddies (John, David and Brian) and I made our way up Thetis, heading across through scrub to a patch of fagus, and then moving like cats on all fours up the boulder chute until we hit a brief tricky patch that needed more care (I swtched from cat to orangutang), and in no time we were on top of the plateau, where there were tarns in a beautiful grassy valley leading to a very minor saddle on the left, and the summit was just up slightly, a bit further on (still to the left keeping direction) from there.
I was thrilled to have an extra peak, and an Abel at that, under my belt, and enjoyed the view, but I think on this occasion the fun of the climb outclassed the scenery at the top – but then, I have been fearfully spoiled over these summer holidays.

View from Leonards Tarn
After that summit view, it was downhill all the way, physicaly and metaphorically, as we turned our backs on the vista, enjoyed the bouldery descent and slid through the scrub at the end back to Leonard’s tarn, endured the thickety fight down to Frog Flat, and joined the Overlanders on the last trudge in to Pelion Hut, where we set up camp.

One of the views from Thetis

I thought in anticipation that this would be unpleasant and crowded, but I actually had a wonderful time, chatting on the verandah until late into the night with a very interesting bunch of people, having had laughs and good times with my own group up where we cooked dinner first. The design of that hut seems to lend itself to socialising out on the verandah watching the changing light on Oakleigh. I have decided I love it.

Diplarrana moraea
The final morning was perfect. As usual I was up before sunrise, and was treated to a mesmerising pastel Alpenglow behind Barn Bluff and Mt Oakleigh while mist mooched around the trees below.

Dawn on the Pelion Plains
Full of the joy of the dawn, I sped my way along the Arm River track, delighting in the luminated pink and cream richea scoparia along the way, the filigree, diamond studded spider webs and the large number of wallabies and paddymelons that hopped past me as I headed with purpose towards my double shot cappuccinos at Mole Creek. I needed them plus full blast, deafening music and full voiced singing to keep me awake all the way home where I arrived in time for lunch.

Cream richea scoparia on the Arm River track on the way out
Maps can be found in my posts on Achilles:  
http://www.natureloverswalks.com/mt-achilles/     and on Mt Thetis:
http://www.natureloverswalks.com/mt-thetis/  

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Cradle Mountain 2013 Dec

Cradle Mountain 27 Dec 2013 

My daughter, Yelena, flying
Elin too
 With joy we realised we could squeeze in one more mountain before our Swedish visitor, Elin, had to leave, and there was no doubt at all as to which mountain it was to be: she has long harboured the wish to climb the iconic Cradle Mountain, so we packed our gear and off we set in two cars, as this was a full family affair + visitors. I have climbed Cradle five times now, but who cares? A good climb is a good climb.

For some reason the other two girls thought it was a good idea to do a 90 sec plank after the first descent, so, one in all in  … .  Frederik got to photograph. 
The forecast was not brilliant, but off we set, and, luckily for us, by the time we actually started up the mountain, the early clouds were drifting away to the coast, giving us crisp lighting and sharp, artistic shadows on the mountain as we climbed.
 Two cars meant that we had one car of Cradle climbers, and one car of toddler minders. The four Cradle climbers made great progress and were on top a shade under 1 hr 30 mins, which meant the toddler minders, who had set out after us anyway, had only got a bit further than the little boat shed on the lake by the time we’d descended.
 
Cradle from Marion’s Lookdown
 
My other daughter, Kirsten, took this shot.
We lunched on the beach and progressed at toddler pace around the lake. Hilariously, it took nearly as long to circle the lake as it had taken to get up and down the glorious mountain that stared down at us as we circled. I think for some of us, the slow part was also more tiring than the mountain. It is many years since Frederik has done a day that long. A hungry gang of eight enjoyed burgers at the Tavern before setting out for home.
Wombat number one of thirteen

I am delighted to report that the wombat : leech count was thirteen : two. Brilliant. As seeing a wombat had also been on Elin’s wish list, she leaves very satisfied, but is bitten by the peak-bagging bug. Now she’s seeing if she can get back to do some SW mountains with me before she flies back home. I sure hope she can.

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Pelion East 2013 Dec

Pelion East 19 Dec 2013

 I had last climbed Peion East fourteen years ago – at dusk in a white out. The tall, stately boulders were shrouded in circling mist, barely visible in the gloom at the close of the day. I lament to this day that I ran, and therefore didn’t have my camera to capture that beauty other than in my memory.

This time, we walked, with my camera, and the sun was shining brightly. In fact, I was worried that the views might be spoiled by heat haze if we didn’t hurry.

The route was exactly as I remembered from last time, namely, angle up to the right, then zag left, and then a short sharp pinch and you’re there. Even though we were only walking, it was a mere 35 mins to the top, so not a great undertaking. Elin and I both enjoyed the workout, and the fact that we did have to climb rather than just walk to touch the summit, as with Ossa.
It’s fun for me to have Elin for company. Like me, she loves to climb, hates stopping before the top, and has the same kind of urge I have to get to the top quickly. 

From the top, Elin greatly enjoyed lloking back at our clear path up and down Ossa, the mountain of her dreams.
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Ossa 2013 Dec

Mt Ossa 18-19 Dec 2013

Have you ever done a friend a favour, and had the benefits of doing so far outweigh any effort you made? Not for the first time in my life, this was my experience on our Mt Ossa trip this week.
Elin, a visiting orienteering friend from Sweden, wanted to climb Mt Ossa – because it’s famous; because it’s the highest mountain in Tasmania. She had her heart set on it. I have climbed it three times already, so felt no need to do so again, and had never been enamoured of the views from the top (having mostly seen the white-out ones). The forecast was good, and if I had had my way, then the SW would have been my choice of venue. But I said we’d go up Ossa for her sake, with the proviso that we slept the night up there, and that we got up in a single day from home, as we had airport appointments looming. Elin readily agreed.

 

The packs were heavy with three days’ winter gear, just in case it was cold up there. My boots were unfortunately still wet from the Walled Mountain trip (only one day separates these two trips). My socks were wet before the first official step, and stayed wet until the end.

With happy stomachs full of pineapple-and-walnut cake, we launched into the wonderful rainforest of the “Pillinger trail”, eventually arriving at a wonderful open plains section, replete with tarns, a mighty view of Pillinger and a clear stream for our first break after nearly an hour. Already, we needed my homemade muesli bars.

The second stop we had was well before the next hour was up, but we had now joined the Arm River track, and had reached its high point, with a vista opening up that revealed not only Mt Pillinger and the mountains of the Cathedral-Twin Spires collection, but also Falling Mountain, Mt Massif, Mt Ossa and more. It was wonderful, and required gazing at while we drank some more from the tarn before beginning our descent. Lunch was had in the river (yes, in. Elin had decided that leeches were not her favourite Tasmanian thing. We were running away from them by eating on the riverbed pebbles) just before we reached Pelion Hut.

The day was very warm indeed, the packs heavy, and the walk up to Pelion Gap even warmer. However, the wildflowers were so beautiful they filled the journey with joy (almost). The snowflake petals of bauera overlapped the trail, making it a tiny ribbon of root-striated brown through a snowstorm of dotted white, with the buttercup yellow of pultanea daphnoides and the red of occasional waratahs giving colour contrast. And then you re-enter a patch of cool, mossy rainforest for a different experience of pleasure. Unfortunately I had once run this in 34 minutes, and walked it as part of the Overland trail in bygone days in 43 mins, so had never thought of this stretch as anything other than a quick dash. The slow trudge of 2013 seemed to last forever due to these false expectations, and  the 1 hr 11 it took lasted in my mind a lot longer than that. We were hot and bothered.

The gap was beautiful, although I was bitterly disappointed that the scoparia bushes were not quite in bloom. I wanted to come back in a week. The mountain views made up for it. After another food break, and a chance for my husband to gather a bit more energy, we were off.

Miraculously, as we climbed higher, the scoparia gained in colour. Meanwhile, more mountains came into view. I was floating on a cloud of joy. I was also in paparazzi mode by now. I left the other two to go on ahead while I played at photographing. It was nice to drop back and have the mountain to myself.

At one stage I was walking along in a happy dream, looking at the light, the colours and shapes and singing away, and I was awoken from this traumverloren state by three chirpy voices saying hello – three former sudents here in the mountains, descending. How lovely to see so many young people out in the bush. With unis on holidays, there are lots of people with free time, but it is fantastic to see that it is used to get out into the wilderness. Bushwalking is NOT a dying sport, and if you think it is, just get out there in December. The hills are alive with the sounds of students … and young families for that matter. We met a five-year old peak bagger on the way out (already collecting points) who wants the Abels book for Christmas!

I had caught Bruce again before the serious climbing began, which is good, as I wanted to help him through it. Life is tricky if you have Parkinson’s disease and a wife who loves to sleep on mountains. Some of the manoeuvres near the top of the very steep section were challenging for me with a heavy pack, let alone him. We got there. We’d cope with the problems of descent tomorrow. Elin was waiting at the top of the steep part, and we all did the final short climb to where the view opens up together. WOW. A hundred times WOW.
 

I was totally filled with emotion at the sight of the view that greeted us once we emerged on the plateau at the top. I couldn’t believe that it had all come together and that my dream of sleeping on top of Mt Ossa with a view like this was really going to materialise. Tears came to my eyes as I gazed out at infinty – a limitless vastness of space and shapely peaks, all different shades of blue in the late afternoon light. It had taken us 6 hours and 2 mins of walking to get here. (I had had no idea how long we might need, given my husband’s condition, or even if we really would make it. I never envisaged that the elusive view could be so marvellous.)

The remainder of the day was filled with peak staring, photographing, summitting, more peak staring and eating. Sunset and moonrise, it goes without saying, were a joy. We didn’t want to go to bed. We certainly didn’t want to waste such beauty sleeping. Elin resolved to stay up all night, just taking it all in. I settled for a slightly more conservative compromise of going to ‘bed’, but leaving all tent flaps open so that the view was not impeded and so I could lie in bed and gaze at beauty all night. The wind picked up after we’d turned in, so it was rather a noisy night, but who cares!

We all got up at 4.45 to see pre-dawn and sunrise itself, the other two perched on the leeward side of a rock; me right out in the open for the best photo opportunities. More WOW.

We all felt so very complete and happy as we tried to pack up the tents without having them blow off the moutain as we folded them, and reluctantly began our descent. We passed all three packs down at one point so as to climb unhindered by weight. The rest was no problem.

The rest of the journey we floated on a cloud of happy reverie, replaying in our minds the splendour of the time on top.

 I had ostensibly done Elin a favour, but it had bounced back as one of the most marvellous gifts I have ever had.

We also dashed up Pelion East (literally, as it was packless and thus very fast) en route home, but that will be a separate entry in the blog. All up, with two three-day trips in a week, we put in twenty-five and a half hours’ walking to which must be added lunch stops, choky stops, photography and more. My legs didn’t feel too flash trying to run today :-).

 
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Walled Mountain 2013 Dec

Walled Mountain 14-15 Dec, 2013

 I love sleeping on mountains; for me, that’s the best part of bushwalking. So, having read that Walled Mountain had water and space for a tent at the top, I wanted to see its view and sleep on its summit. Excitedly we packed for our next adventure.


Elin was excited too. “I’m so happy I’m jealous of me”, she declared. This was to be her first experience of what I call real bushwalkng, viz. walking with a ‘real’ pack and sleeping out. The plan was to do Walled and Macs Mountains, and then see what was what. We had food for three days.

“You’re lucky with the weather the ferry man said as we neared Narcissus. It’s been raining and snowing all week, but the good weather is due today.”
“It wasn’t luck”, I thought;  I’d timed things according to the forecast. Alas, it was wrong.

Alas, also, I slightly tore my calf muscle (over-use running innjury) after only an hour. Damn !!! We had been looking forward to this for too long to pull out … and the ferry is too expensive to pay and not get any walking done. I limped very slowly in to Pine Valley, made it, and decided to push on regardless. I’d developed a way of walking that protected the injured muscle by taking the effort and weight elsewhere. Up we climbed on to the Labyrinth.

Thanks to all the rain things were pretty deep in water up there, but silvery, watery beautiful. Grey mist swirled around as we slopped our way around Lakes Cyan and Ophion and then climbed a bit to Eurynome. At this stage we could still see the majestic mountains around us looming out of the mist. Our own destination, Walled Mountain, looked quite spectacular as the mist swirled about its Jurassic dolerite cliffs. From below, or rather, from that particular angle under the cliffs, it seemed impossible that one could camp up there. It was so jagged and rugged.

By the time we had reached the top mist completely enveloped us; there was no view of anything but each other, and the wind had picked up considerably. In light drizzle we quickly pitched the two tents right under the summit in a swampy, snowy bog and began cooking tea before it got any worse. All three of us squeezed into the two-man tent to eat. It was crowded but cozy and fun.
 
My GPS said we were 13 meters below the summit, and sure enough, it took less than two minutes to climb the next day. My leg had held out and I was ecstatic to reach at least one goal. However, drizzle had become determined rain, and visibility was still zero, so we wandered around the top exploring, but gave Macs Mountain a miss, and packed up and descended to Pine Valley and a hut where we could be dry to eat our lunch, and attempt to dry out some of our gear (pushing through wet bushes had wet it rather thoroughly). We had thought that maybe we could take the Parthenon as we passed by, but we were already so wet that pushing through more sodden bushes when we already wanted lunch lost its appeal. I was not even sure if the best route would be from the saddle or from a bit further along. Nothing seemed obvious apart from hunger and the desire to dry off.

 

 

As usual, the forest was magic, and we lucked in on a great bunch of people in the hut, so returned very happy.
For more, and for much prettier pictures of the views to be had from Walled Mountain, see my blogs on Macs Mountain, and on Mt Nereus.
www.natureloverswalks.com/macs-mountain/
www.natureloverswalks.com/mt-nereus/
On the way home we climbed Sandbanks Tier to double the mountain count for the trip. www.natureloverswalks.com/sandbanks-tier/