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--- 196804 [2016/12/30 20:43] – [A close look at Federation Peak] paul_barton
+++ 196804 [2016/12/30 20:54] – [Invasion of Claustral] paul_barton
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 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.
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 by Lynne Wyborn.
-In typical fashion thirtythree members, irisitors and sundry arrived at Mt. Tomah on Sundaylmorning, 25th February. Added to this, six senior scouts were going down Claustrial and fourteen Springwood Bushwalkers down Raynon Canyon, making a grand total of 53, three more than last years record.
+In typical fashion thirty-three members, visitors and sundry arrived at Mt. Tomah on Sunday morning, 25th February. Added to this, six senior scouts were going down Claustrial and fourteen Springwood Bushwalkers down Raynon Canyon, making a grand total of 53, three more than last years record.
-The'ladVanced'-' party raced down to the abseils. with the ropes to prepare for the.hordeS of beds to come. Meanwhile, Colin Burton and Don Finch raced . around franticly at the top, trying.to work out who was and who wasn't there. Eventually everyone congregated at the top of the abseils where a fire was lit.
-After the scouts had abseiled down into the icy darkness and moved out of the way, our party began the monotonous task of all getting to the bottom. There were throe abseils, the first 30ft., the second 25 ft., and the third (the keyhole) was 50 ft. The water was freezing and eVerything go jr soaked. At the bottom of the first abseil, the waterfall pounded on you as you got off the rope. At the bottom of the second abseil, Margaret Dogterom spotted a small furry looking animal clinging to the wall about 6 inches above the water line. It turned out to be a baby 'possum about 3 inches long. More trouble was taken by everyone to get it to safety, than can be imagined.
+The'advanced' party raced down to the abseils with the ropes to prepare for the hordes of bods to come. Meanwhile, Colin Burton and Don Finch raced around franticly at the top, trying to work out who was and who wasn't there. Eventually everyone congregated at the top of the abseils where a fire was lit.
-At the top of the 'keyhole abseil, a r.lagnificent sight was seen. The fire which had. been lit with damp wood had produced of smoke which wafted between between the narrow walls that towered about 150 ft. above. The sun beamed dawn through an occasional gap, shone on the large silvery spider webs and pierced the inert smoke creating an eerie atmosphere. Nothing was heard above the rush of the waterfalls. At the bottom of the last abseil, we plunged into the water and made a quick dash around the corner into the unknown.
-while those at the front were eating lunch at the camping cave, beds were still coming clown the abseils and making their way along the narrow canyon below. At 3.00 p.m people were still coming down, Don having trouble
+After the scouts had abseiled down into the icy darkness and moved out of the way, our party began the monotonous task of all getting to the bottom. There were three abseils, the first 30ft., the second 25 ft., and the third (the keyhole) was 50 ft. The water was freezing and everything got soaked. At the bottom of the first abseil, the waterfall pounded on you as you got off the rope. At the bottom of the second abseil, Margaret Dogterom spotted a small furry looking animal clinging to the wall about 6 inches above the water line. It turned out to be a baby possum about 3 inches long. More trouble was taken by everyone to get it to safety, than can be imagined.
-coaxing one girl don who wouldn't budge,between the first and second abseils. The forward party, led by Dot Butler, moved on rockhopping, climbing dawn small cliffs and swimming. 1-To reached the bottom of the steep hillside which we were to climb up. Everyone found their way out O.K. there being only n bit of trouble at the tunnel swim.
-Most of the party had to find their way to the top in the dark and reached there about 8.00 p.m. It was rumoured that a party of two which went down after our party, eventually found their way out on Tuesday afternoon after living on ferns and ytIbbies for two days. Another successful S.B.T. skirmish with nature.
+At the top of the 'keyhole' abseil, a magnificent sight was seen. The fire which had been lit with damp wood had produced smoke which wafted between between the narrow walls that towered about 150 ft. above. The sun beamed down through an occasional gap, shone on the large silvery spider webs and pierced the inert smoke creating an eerie atmosphere. Nothing was heard above the rush of the waterfalls. At the bottom of the last abseil, we plunged into the water and made a quick dash around the corner into the unknown.
+While those at the front were eating lunch at the camping cave, bods were still coming clown the abseils and making their way along the narrow canyon below. At 3.00 p.m people were still coming down, Don having troublecoax ing one girl down who wouldn't budge between the first and second abseils. The forward party, led by Dot Butler, moved on rockhopping, climbing down small cliffs and swimming. We reached the bottom of the steep hillside which we were to climb up. Everyone found their way out O.K. there being only a bit of trouble at the tunnel swim.
+Most of the party had to find their way to the top in the dark and reached there about 8.00 p.m. It was rumoured that a party of two which went down after our party, eventually found their way out on Tuesday afternoon after living on ferns and yabbies for two days. Another successful S.B.W. skirmish with nature.
 =====The Platypus=====