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195806 [2016/04/08 11:53] – [In Tasmania's South West (Part 3)] kennettj | 195806 [2016/04/08 15:53] – [In Tasmania's South West (Part 3)] kennettj | ||
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Such was the scene witnessed by a circling eagle the morning that Joan, Arthur, Henry and I set out from Lake Pedder to trek to Mt. Anne. Fortunately, | Such was the scene witnessed by a circling eagle the morning that Joan, Arthur, Henry and I set out from Lake Pedder to trek to Mt. Anne. Fortunately, | ||
- | A clump of small trees, practically the only shelter on the plain, afforded us a shady lunch spot where we could let our restless spirits wander over the sharp peaks and dips of the Arthur Range. For the moment it was enough to admire from afar, but inwardly I knew the Arthurs would bring me back to Tassie some other day. Replenished, | + | A clump of small trees, practically the only shelter on the plain, afforded us a shady lunch spot where we could let our restless spirits wander over the sharp peaks and dips of the Arthur Range. For the moment it was enough to admire from afar, but inwardly I knew the Arthurs would bring me back to Tassie some other day. Replenished, |
- | + | ||
- | Our goal was now well in sight but what's this? Surprise of surprises! Without warning we had suddenly stumbled on the most delightful little creek running fair slap-bang through the middle of those soggy plains. The sparkling clear water ran swiftly over a bed of clean smooth stones, so reminiscent of our own Blue Mountains. After consulting the map I realised that it was the lower reaches of Condeminion Ck., whose source lies high up on the slopes of Mt. Anne - no wonder it was the best water in Tasmania! We made a pleasant camp amidst a clump of trees higher up the creek, just where it runs past the foot of the climbing ridge. It was mighty good to relax through the long summer twilight and put a mug of soup, a giant plate of " | + | |
- | + | ||
- | As we lingered over coffee (or was it rum cocoa) and discussed plans for Anne, dark clouds came sweeping up from the south - in ten minutes a cloudless sky had been transformed into a distinctly ominous one. But that's so typical of the South-West; changes in the weather for better or worse can occur with such frightening speed. However, the weather did not seem to matter then, not when bodies as tired as ours were being called to that haven of tents and sleeping bags we had come to appreciate so much. | + | |
But in the morning it was a different story - the low and threatening cloud ceiling took the edge off our enthusiasm. The mountains which had surrounded us in all their glory the previous day had suddenly ceased to exist. Eliza' | But in the morning it was a different story - the low and threatening cloud ceiling took the edge off our enthusiasm. The mountains which had surrounded us in all their glory the previous day had suddenly ceased to exist. Eliza' | ||
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Equipped with one only day pack a very excited party started off for what promised to be a day of days. As we climbed higher, wide panoramic views to the south and west began to open up and even Frenchman' | Equipped with one only day pack a very excited party started off for what promised to be a day of days. As we climbed higher, wide panoramic views to the south and west began to open up and even Frenchman' | ||
of the plateau, four pairs of eyes were suddenly held spellbound by the magnificent sight of Federation Peak playing hide and seek with a line of low horizon clouds. It was then that I became convinced that one day I would have to plan a trip to Federation - once seen it could never be forgotten. Indeed, in the excitement of recording this thrilling scene four times over with the tele lenses, we almost forgot that Mt. Anne, so close at hand, was still to be climbed. Fortunately, | of the plateau, four pairs of eyes were suddenly held spellbound by the magnificent sight of Federation Peak playing hide and seek with a line of low horizon clouds. It was then that I became convinced that one day I would have to plan a trip to Federation - once seen it could never be forgotten. Indeed, in the excitement of recording this thrilling scene four times over with the tele lenses, we almost forgot that Mt. Anne, so close at hand, was still to be climbed. Fortunately, | ||
- | high regions of Tasmania, improved with age and by nine o' | + | high regions of Tasmania, improved with age and by nine o' |
- | + | ||
- | Eventually we were together again, climbing up among the crumbling dolerite columns of which Mt.Anne is made; and what a terrific thrill to stand upon that summit on such a day. Just about everything that was worth seeing in southern Tasmania could be seen and appreciated; | + | |
Lunchtime saw a very entranced party satisfying their scenic appetites with what surely must be one of the most beautiful natural landscapes in the world. From the rocky eastern edge of the plateau our gaze shot down plummeting precipices into the lovely blue depths of Judd's Charm two thousand feet below. Across | Lunchtime saw a very entranced party satisfying their scenic appetites with what surely must be one of the most beautiful natural landscapes in the world. From the rocky eastern edge of the plateau our gaze shot down plummeting precipices into the lovely blue depths of Judd's Charm two thousand feet below. Across | ||
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Those last two days were really enjoyable for their variety - good solid track (?) walking through country that was always delightfully changing its character. There were the cool damp myrtle forests with their vines and mosses and their atmosphere of great age and decay; (how can we forget the stumbling over the interminable trees fallen across the track); there were the open button grass plains with their quartzite outcrops, the stretches of green forest where giant ferns formed a canopy above the track and the pleasant interlude of gum trees with good burning wood, and of course, not forgetting the patches of unspeakable Tasmanian mud to make life interesting. Personal incidents and laughs were two bob a dozen with a party of such character as ours and we revelled in the life - it was bushwalking and comradeship at its very best. | Those last two days were really enjoyable for their variety - good solid track (?) walking through country that was always delightfully changing its character. There were the cool damp myrtle forests with their vines and mosses and their atmosphere of great age and decay; (how can we forget the stumbling over the interminable trees fallen across the track); there were the open button grass plains with their quartzite outcrops, the stretches of green forest where giant ferns formed a canopy above the track and the pleasant interlude of gum trees with good burning wood, and of course, not forgetting the patches of unspeakable Tasmanian mud to make life interesting. Personal incidents and laughs were two bob a dozen with a party of such character as ours and we revelled in the life - it was bushwalking and comradeship at its very best. | ||
- | + | All too soon we found ourselves surrounded by the signs of civilisation, | |
- | All too soon we found ourselves surrounded by the signs of civilisation, | + | |
- | + | ||
- | It was here that the famous Tasmanian hospitality treated us so unexpectedly and so unstintingly to glorious hot baths and home-cooked food. Civilisation would indeed have been hard to take without such compensations. | + | |
And so our trip had ended, as end they all must; that is except for the hundreds of colour slides and the bragging and the endless story-telling and the reminiscenses, | And so our trip had ended, as end they all must; that is except for the hundreds of colour slides and the bragging and the endless story-telling and the reminiscenses, | ||
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Rain gone; no-one missing yet all was well. We waved a cheer to our driver friends and sauntered off into the night. The road-bash down the hill was merely an appetiser. In Green Gully we found Ron Baker fossicking around with a torch. He was apologising profusely to a cow.: "You don't really look like Brian. Wrong shape, side on. But it's hard to tell from behind." | Rain gone; no-one missing yet all was well. We waved a cheer to our driver friends and sauntered off into the night. The road-bash down the hill was merely an appetiser. In Green Gully we found Ron Baker fossicking around with a torch. He was apologising profusely to a cow.: "You don't really look like Brian. Wrong shape, side on. But it's hard to tell from behind." | ||
- | Early on Anzac Day, our energetic leader was stirring us up and chattering away about moving off at eight o' | + | Early on Anzac Day, our energetic leader was stirring us up and chattering away about moving off at eight o' |
+ | |||
+ | Two lengths away were Pam Baker and Audrey Kenway; a short head to John Luxton and Peter Cummings, Bob O'Hara and John Proudfoot with half a furlong to Col Ferguson; three lengths to a bunched up field of Jack Gentle, Margaret Ryan, Isobel Wilkie, Eileen Taylor, Canada Dry and Beryl Collins; closely followed by Ron Baker, Ernie French and Jean Harvey, with the Leader tailed off last. At the gate I counted them through and slipped into my accustomed position, whipping in the straggling leader. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The day was cool and the pace a killer. You could not hear the footsteps for the swishing of the bushes, and it wasn't long before I was finding my way, not by the sight of the party in front, but by the smoke of their passing. They were doing at least a mile and a half to the hour - or an hour and a half to the mile, I forget which. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Unerringly the leader guided the flock along the Black Dog track and rested at the cross roads under Debert' | ||
+ | really, Ron Baker being the only one to drink his tea straight from the billy. He claimed that he'd forgotten his mug but we suspected lightweight tactics. Some Federation officials, accompanied by a group of Y.H.L.C.C. types, arrived as we were leaving and blithely took over our campfires. They, too, were headed for Splendour Rock and we idly wondered if they'd try the same cunning trick at nightfall. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Onwards and upwards went the leader, followed by the six hundred, tailed up by John Clubfoot and me. He'd caught on - it's so much cleaner when other bods have wiped all the dew from the bushes and the carbon black from the stumps. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Black Horse Gap was our next breather. It's a steep little scramble to a short-tail like me, and by the time I caught up I was wondering if the wreath I was carrying for the morrow' | ||
+ | of the presence of wombats, and second because the boulders are so big that you feel as if your legs are as short as a wombat' | ||
+ | |||
+ | At the drop into Warrigal Gap the cliffs are broken up into a stairway; only it was built in Gargantua and us Liliputians had no ropes. Is Margaret' | ||
+ | |||
+ | The girls regained their dignity down in the saddle and swung up on to the flat top of Merrigal with true bushwalker rhythm. As we intended camping in Merri-merrigal Saddle, water was gathered from the top of the mount - out of the shallow holes in the sandstone at the rate of a quarter of a mug per dip. We began by carefully skimming the water so as not to scoop up mud and twigs, but finished the last 2,000 dozen scoops by bailing sand, leaves, humus and all. The only objecting voice pointed out that in her native Ireland such peat bogs were frequented only by sheep and cattle. Well? ..? | ||
- | Two lengths away were Pam Baker and Audrey Kenway; a short head to John Luxton and Peter Cummings, Bob O' | + | A few short steps brought us to the col, and yours truly remembered too late a long-forgotten lesson; always be in front at the end of the day. Having |
- | Eileen Taylor, Canada Dry and Beryl Collins; closely followed by Ron Baker, Ernie French and Jean HarVey, with the Leader tailed off last. | + | I was just contemplating |
- | Lt the gate I counted them through and slipped into my accustomed | + | |
- | The day was cool and the pace a killer. You couldna hear | + | |
- | the footsteps | + | |
- | before I was finding | + | |
- | but by the smoke of their passing. They were doing at least a | + | |
- | mile and a half to the hour - or an hour and a half to the mile, I forget which. | + | |
- | Unerringly | + | |
- | track and rested at the cross roads under Debert' | + | |
- | Lunch at the top of the Faithful Hound was quite civilised, | + | |
- | really, Ron Baker being the only one to drink his tea straight from the billy. He claimed | + | |
- | suspected lightweight tactics. | + | |
- | Some Federation officials, accompalied by a group of Y.H.L.C.C. | + | |
- | types, arrived as we- were leaving | + | |
- | wondered if they'd try the same cunning trick at nightfall. | + | |
- | Onwards and upwards went the leader, followed by the six hundred, tailed up by John Clubfoot and me. He'd caight on - it's | + | |
- | so much cleaner when other bods have wiped all the dew from the bushes and the carbon black from the stumps. | + | |
- | Black Horse Gap was7ur next breather. It's a steep little | + | |
- | scramble | + | |
- | was wondering if the wreath I was carrying for the morrow's sunrise | + | |
- | service might be used for MB instead. Ernie French took it from | + | |
- | me for the Wombat Parade stretch - apparently he felt more in need of it than I. | + | |
- | Jean Harvey led the girls along the Parade, and after a | + | |
- | discreet interval we males followed. Wombat Parade is so called for two very good reasons - first, because there' | + | |
- | of the presence of wombats, and second because the boulders are | + | |
- | so big that you feel as if your legs are as short as a wombat' | ||
- | Lt the drop into Warrigal Gap the cliffs are broken up into a steirway; only it was built in Gargantua and us Liliputians had no ropes. Is Margaret' | ||
- | The girls regained their dignity down in the saddle and swung up on to the flat top of Merrigal with true bushwalker rhythm. As we intended carping in Merri-merrigal Saddle, water was gathered from the top of the mount - out of the shallow holes in the sandstone at the rate of a quarter of amug per dip. We began by carefully skimming the water so as not to scoop up mud and twigs, but finished the last 2,000 dozen scoops by bailing sand, leaves, humus and all. The only objecting voice pointed out that in her native Oirland such peat bogs were frequented only | ||
- | by sheep and cattle. Well? ..? | ||
- | A few short steps brought us to the col, and yours truly remembered too late a long-forgotten lesson; always be in front at the end of the day. Having slipped once again into the | ||
- | 13-4, | ||
- | rearguard position, there was no place left for my tent, in which | ||
- | I had graciously offered to shelter Pam Baker and Audrey Kenway. | ||
- | I was just contemplating the problem of pitching camp over a clump of Xanthorreae when the two girls started hollering that theytd | ||
- | already reserved a site in the executive suite - in among Brian and Jean, Canada, Ron Baker and Col Ferguson. I suggested that | ||
- | it might be better to put up with the Xanthorreas but, chivalrous to the end, acceded to the girls' request. | ||
I had to admit that the site was roomy and comfortable; | I had to admit that the site was roomy and comfortable; | ||
195806.txt · Last modified: 2016/04/25 15:22 by kennettj