13-14th September 2014
11:45 PM: I’m sitting on a ledge,
above a cliff that my headtorch’s beam won’t reach the bottom of. It’s snowing.
A finger sized alpine worm is crawling across a rock next to me. I can see the
three lights of my companions waving around as they try to climb the rock chimney
I just came from. My brand new invertebrate pal loses traction on a patch of snow
and plummets into the darkness below. Nightwalking: why wouldn’t you?
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| What we didn't see. |
I decided to take the TUBC’s
(newly established) tradition of nightwalking a step further than diurnal rhythms
and common sense dictates, making plans for a dusk to dawn attempt on Mt Anne,
the 1423m “Queen” of the South-West. Due presumably to my tempting promise of “moonlit
views” and a “sunset over Lake Pedder” nine people signed up for the event,
though this number was whittled down by second thoughts and sudden returns to
sanity, to a more manageable four.
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| Views! Sort of. |
We left the TUU at 4:00 PM and
arrived at the Condominium “stand-in-front-of-the-sign-and-it-says-condom” Creek
car park as the sun dropped below the horizon. Getting ready for a walk at dusk
was slightly unnerving, and the dark clouds hiding the summit of Mt Eliza didn't
help. With packs full of caffeine and fleece we hit the track, making the High
Camp hut in a semi-respectable hour and twenty minutes. An enjoyable dinner was
had by all and we seriously considered the ethics of playing cards in the hut
all night and telling everyone we made the summit. We started “Phase II” as the
rain began, making our slow and navigational error riddled way up the steep
boulder field to the 1289m summit of Mt Eliza.
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| One of the better photos. |
The wind suddenly picked up and we
unanimously agreed it was glove-o’clock. Phase III consisted of a relatively
flat and straightforward walk across the Eliza Plateau, however “relatively
flat and straightforward” has a different meaning at 9:00 PM in a near gale. We
hit a boulder field and played a round of “spot-the-next-cairn-with-your-head-torch”,
a game that kept us entertained and lively for the rest of the night. The moon
had set long ago, and the views were limited by horizontal precipitation and
inadequate lumens to several meters in the direction we were facing. We left the main circuit track and headed
towards the summit block across a couple more frustratingly slow boulder
fields. Reuben the "Cairnfinder General" led the way up Phase IV: the final mess
of boulders and unexpected snowfields to the infamous ledge. Despite the onset
of snowfall and freezing temperatures we were all keen to have a go, and lined
up below the chimney that leads to the pants-browningly precarious ledge. We
all got up alright and shimmied across the slippery and snow covered shelf. The
last section was a bit too slippery and snow covered for my liking, so I made
the call to bail. No-one disagreed. The turnaround marked Sarah’s third failed
attempt on Mt Anne, but it was the furthest she’d got, so it wasn't all bad.
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| Just chillin' on the Ledge (worm not visible). |
We climbed back down and shared a
couple of cans of Rob’s bourbon (TUBC safety tip: alcohol should NEVER be drunk
in the wilderness, unless it’s Saturday night and you need warmth and
motivation). I’m not sure whether this aided or hindered my boulder hopping
skills, but either way we made good progress down the rocks and snow fields
(which required a few entirely NECESSARY Bear Grylls-esque glissades). Reuben’s
cairn spotting skills proved a bit too efficient as he managed to find the
route to the North-East Ridge, setting us wandering around in the dark until a
nav masterclass by Your Humble Narrator set us right.
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| 5:40 AM faces. |
We reversed Phase III and Phase
II as the temperature got colder and colder, and we got sicker and sicker of “spot-the-cairn”.
We reached the hut sometime after 3:00 AM, and enjoyed the hot drinks and lack
of rain for as long as we could fend off sleep. We virtually skipped down the
700 meter descent and arrived at good old Condom Creek car park as the grey sky
began to lighten. The drive back to Hobart was a sleepy affair, but we were all satisfied and ultimately glad to have subjected ourselves to 11 and a half
hours of wet, cold, self-deprived and unsuccessful mental anguish.
Who’s keen for the next night
walk?
