Fresh off the blocks, head first into a new year – or so it felt anyway. Work in the pub had been grinding me down over the course of the ‘silly season,’ and the prospect of getting away for an overnight trip is always a much treasured privilege. But unlike most ‘normal’ citizens; who would opt for a hefty chunk of annual leave in exchange for secure employment - I simply cashed out & quit. Free again!! Well as it turned out, in one more extra week anyhow. So my Frankland Range Traverse plan fell flat on its face before it had begun & I took a rare compromise and dashed out for a single night tag-along with me ol’ walking mate Pazzar instead.
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| Looking back towards Mt Sprent |
I’d already been up top of Mt Sprent once before, on a trip organised by the University Bushwalking Club - but the views were nil & that drive felt wasted. Pazzar needed a lift to the trailhead anyway, so it seemed oblatory to reminisce & pray for a second shot at success. It felt kind of weird being behind the wheel again. My brothers corolla felt much like my own old four wheeled beast once had; the one which had nearly set my best mate on fire & which we later sold off to a hyperactive footy hooligan to try and keep me afloat overseas. After a rash dispute on whether we’d missed the turn off somehow before Strathgordon, we stumbled upon our destination by lack of a place to U-turn...success!!
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| Pazzar with his big phat pack |
The dam that holds the Serpentine River is quite a sorry sight. On one hand I understand the pros of the hydro electric scheme in Tasmania, but when looking down a heavily chasmed gorge with a single slight trickle dribbling along a dry river bed, it’s hard to keep all too cheery. Pazzar’s pack was monstrous; fitted out for nine days solo in the South-West. I knew in comparison I’d be breezing up the hills, and made it my mission not to scoot too far ahead. Even so, it was quite the slog up the steep terrain, and I welcomed the break in the trees which from memory, signalled the worst of the climb. The views began to open up, with otherworldly vistas stretching across one small corner of Lake Pedder. As elevation was gained, Mt Humboldt in the Prince of Wales Range stood fierce & stern in the distance, while the ragged nature of the ranges ancient quartzite crags made the foreground ever more forbidding.
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| View from our campsite near the summit of Mt Sprent |
It felt like the worst of the weather had passed as we neared the summit, and the sun even poked it’s big bright face out for half an hour or so…but the wild west is wicked and unforgiving, and out from no where a front of sleety cold crap slayed our optimism & sent us covering. After waiting it out for a decent chunk of time, we felt there was no better option than to bunker down and set up camp for the night, dashing manically around for a sheltered semi-unexposed tent site. So there we stopped, behind some rocks, on a bed of plants. Not the most ideal end to the day, but a wise one.
After a snooze and a bite to eat, the worst of the weather seemed to ease, and Pazzar & I got to enjoy the twilight hours cooking dinner& admiring the misty views over the northern tip of The Wilmot Range. The summit turned out to be a mere 100 meter stroll from camp, and the panorama over the rest of the area was stunning. I quietly envied Pazzar’s endeavour, and only wished I could be part of it. I highly doubt I will get a chance to walk such an off track classic with someone with such similar capabilities & a person I know so well any time soon.
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| Clouds parting over The Wilmot Range |
A night in the tent, and I was re-energised like I hadn’t been for weeks. I got up early to admire the Frankland’s from afar, and munched on nuts for breakfast. The weather looked promising, and I planned to walk a section of the Wilmot’s with Pazzar before returning to camp for the walk out back down to the car. Once up & over Sprent, the ridges rocky features eased off and we were treated to unbeatable easy off track walking. The range seemed very dry, and we were lucky to find a few small pools in a dip where a creek would normally flow. We discussed how long it would be before a track would be distinguished along the range, as there were already quite a number of pads through the worst of the scrub bands, easing our progress. I feel I need to get this one done as soon as possible, to secure its untouched remoteness. After a few knobs, I waved goodbye to Pazzar for the final time and wished him luck on the rest of his walk. It was strange watching him go, and I wondered whether he’d prefer it this way. I know from experience that too long on your own is never healthy, especially when shit gets hectic, and I crave the company to keep me positive. In saying that; there is still something very special about being out in these kinds of places on your own, and I feel I’m a lot better off for having witnessed just some of it.
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| On the summit of Mt Sprent looking along the Wilmot & Frankland Ranges |
On the way back down to the car, in a prolonged confusion of daze; I near kicked over a big black boisterous tiger snake!! I’ve only once had one arch up at me, but this one just sat there holding out in case I tried to creep any closer. What a wanker!! She wouldn’t budge - obviously protecting her little young ones. No matter how hard I stomped and made a racket, there was no moving her. I sure wasn’t about to give in to a leap of faith down & over five stairs loaded with an overnight pack, so it was back into the scrub for me. I gave her about a ten meter gap before cutting back to the track beneath. In hindsight, I was glad to be coming down, as running into that around head height would not make for a pretty self portrait.
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| Big-Black Mumma!! |
Walk details:-
Grade - Medium
Time - 2 days return (Mt Sprent day walk - 5 hours return)
Starting Point - Serpentine Dam
Map - 1:250 00 SerpentineReport by Nick Morgan http://trampingtazz.blogspot.com/
