Wild Dog Tier 2016 Apr

Wild Dog Tier 2016 Apr

An early view of my mountain after I had climbed the first swag of contours and emerged out of the forested slopes.
I have never heard or read anything about Wild Dog Tier that has made me itching to turn up at the start line (other than the fact that maybe I could take my own wild dog with me, but she is too portly to get up even this mountain). I have always pictured a dull canvas-green landscape with equally dull taupe scree, and that’s essentially what I got. There are few dramatic points on the horizon, although Quamby Bluff made my life pleasant on the homeward journey, and every now and then I could see well-delineated cliffs to the west for a bit of spice. I had been hoping great things of Sales Lake by way of redemption from this expected monotony, but it failed to deliver.
Summit cairn

 So why on earth summit a mountain that has so little to offer? Because I am a completer of things I have started (my dinner, bad books, almost anything). I have started this Abel List (which contains mountains), so I am in its thrall; it is a Pied Piper calling me to finish what I have begun. In addition to this mindless slavery to a list is the fact that I believe in variety. I don’t eat my favourite meal every night, or only stare at my very favourite photos, or keep reading my favourite book ad infinitum. I risk experiences that will not match up to the best, and, if nothing else, this enhances the merits of things I love most by comparison – and it makes my life richer. And I love expending my energy – even on Wild Dog Tier. It was a fun workout in a different place.
In case you haven’t done it yet, please don’t let me put you off. It wasn’t bad in any way; it just wasn’t exciting or special.

Possibly the prettiest moment of the trip, after I had descended to the plateau surrounding the lake.

 My experience was greatly enhanced by Tortoise’s recommendation to go via Sales Lake rather than the normal route. This meant I got in some extra height gain over the normal route (which pleases me) and much of this was through quite nice, albeit a little dried out, myrtle forest. I had ascended from the car up onto the plateau and reached the lake in just over forty minutes. The mountain was now visible, and didn’t seem all that far away, but the ground was soft, so I knew it would take longer than expected. Indeed, this next section took 1 hr 12, still placing me on top in under two hours.
The way down was a bit faster, which meant I was back home in Launceston for a late lunch. I even baked an apricot tart for desert to help replace calories.

The most “exciting” part of the trip, if one needs this to be satisfied, was negotiating the hole in the road mentioned by my helpful advisor. She had said it was marked with a taped stick, so I saw it coming and got out to inspect it before I drove past, as her description had been accompanied by faces suggesting great fear. The hole was deep, but also easy to get around, so I drove on, puffed up with pride. Timorous tortoise; that was no problem. However, in one more kilometre (roughly) my hubris was cut short. Here were two holes, placed in such a way that whilst swerving to avoid the second, your back wheel was sure to fall a meter down into the partially passed first. I got out of the car at least four times to check my progress across this trap. Nervous Naturelover was not very comfortable, and thoughts of the retry invaded my mind for most of the walk.

On the rebound, however, I managed to squeeze through, keeping left wheels to the left of the first hole and right wheels to the left this time of the second one. Much easier. I didn’t even get out more than once to check.

Route 1:100,000
 
Road approach (Bessells Rd), with hole waypointed.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *