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--- 196804 [2016/12/30 20:43] – [A close look at Federation Peak] paul_barton
+++ 196804 [2016/12/30 20:46] – [A close look at Federation Peak] paul_barton
@@ Line 150: / Line 150: @@
 as I hoisted my pack at Cracroft and set out across the soggy button grass.
-Admittedly, at that moment, prospects seemed pretty bright for our party of nine from the National Parks Association of New South Wales (including three S.B.W.'s - Frank Taeker, Joan and myself). The sun shone warmly, a week of rotten weather in the high parts had just ended, and we were now well into February, Tasmania'S traditional "dry" month. Leader John Murray was as keen as mustard and would get us there if it were humanly possible. A food drop, surely an incentive for any bushwaker, awaited us at Hanging Lake and the party was reasonably fit. But would we make it? Who could tell?
+Admittedly, at that moment, prospects seemed pretty bright for our party of nine from the National Parks Association of New South Wales (including three S.B.W.'s - Frank Taeker, Joan and myself). The sun shone warmly, a week of rotten weather in the high parts had just ended, and we were now well into February, Tasmania's traditional "dry" month. Leader John Murray was as keen as mustard and would get us there if it were humanly possible. A food drop, surely an incentive for any bushwaker, awaited us at Hanging Lake and the party was reasonably fit. But would we make it? Who could tell?
 The route took us up into low hills and at a saddle we stopped, spellbound. In that few minutes, when we saw our quarry for the first time, I understood something of the special appeal of Federation Peak.
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 for a Party of nine. We scouted around and found two built-up platforms and a third only half-built; it took a lot of work with hatchet and machete and we could pitch three of our four tents. The fireplace sat on a tiny dry patch of ground surrounded by a quagmire. Water was indeed a problem but fortunately the weather held and the view was magnificent. The plan was to be up at the crack of dawn; in the event this was quite easy because eight people were woken simultaneously by a ringing call from George Barnes, "It's the Cracka." They might have even heard George in Hobart.
-The route now took us up among the crests of the Needles, with ' fabulous views of the Lake Leo, East Portal, West Portal and the saw-tooth line of the Eastern Arthurs. What a country! The cameras clicked and the human foregrounds were shifted around like so much stage scenery. After traversing the Needles, a track (thank Heavens for it !) led down through thick scoparia and myrtle to Goon Moor. The route, in the main, now follows the crest of the main spine of the Eastern Arthurs, with the scenery growing ever more spectacular. Another dry lunch was eaten, this time in a mossy myrtle forest; then we climbed around the Four Peaks through their remarkable series of V notches and  finally came out onto the open going of Thvaites Plateau. But what was happening to our beautiful day? Ominous banks of dark clouds, at about our level, were rolling in from the south-west. We made all haste but the white-out, accompanied by a chilly wind, overtook us before we could enjoy the final close-up of Federation, from the Devil's Thumb. That rugged landscape that we knew surrounded us, had in a few minutes ceased to exist, as if wiped from the face of the earth. It was then a case of groping our way towards Hanging Lake and the campsite. Finally a sheet of water loomed before us and there was the food drop too, the four gallon tins in their hessian bags looking as big as forty-four-gallon drums through the eerie mist.
+The route now took us up among the crests of the Needles, with  fabulous views of the Lake Leo, East Portal, West Portal and the saw-tooth line of the Eastern Arthurs. What a country! The cameras clicked and the human foregrounds were shifted around like so much stage scenery. After traversing the Needles, a track (thank Heavens for it !) led down through thick scoparia and myrtle to Goon Moor. The route, in the main, now follows the crest of the main spine of the Eastern Arthurs, with the scenery growing ever more spectacular. Another dry lunch was eaten, this time in a mossy myrtle forest; then we climbed around the Four Peaks through their remarkable series of V notches and  finally came out onto the open going of Thvaites Plateau. But what was happening to our beautiful day? Ominous banks of dark clouds, at about our level, were rolling in from the south-west. We made all haste but the white-out, accompanied by a chilly wind, overtook us before we could enjoy the final close-up of Federation, from the Devil's Thumb. That rugged landscape that we knew surrounded us, had in a few minutes ceased to exist, as if wiped from the face of the earth. It was then a case of groping our way towards Hanging Lake and the campsite. Finally a sheet of water loomed before us and there was the food drop too, the four gallon tins in their hessian bags looking as big as forty-four-gallon drums through the eerie mist.
 The campsite at Hanging Lake is unique. Level tent platforms have been built up with rocks, timber, hessian bags and straw on the sloping shelf near the outlet of the lake. Protected from the nasty westerlies by higher ground, the site overlooks the 1,500 feet drop down into Lake Geeves, while in front the jagged profiles of the lesser bluffs hiding Federation Peak campsite, an extraordinary picture. The Route Guide describes Hanging Lake (and it does hang) as "a campsite with an unrivalled setting. Tent poles and wood are scarce". Agreed.