Category: hiking

Categories
general hiking trip reports

scrub bashing II: the sequel you have all been waiting for

With our previous failed attempt echoing at the back of our minds, combined with a challenge issued regarding a cache unfound since placement on Mt Latrobe 800 days ago, we realised that we had less than four weeks before we left the country for quite some time – leaving the cache wide open for others to collect it before us. We spotted a window of good weather at the Prom, and the decision was made – this time, we were getting that peak (and the cache with it).

Having learnt our lesson from our previous attempt however, this time we came properly prepared. *cue dramatic music*

GARDENING GLOVES!

They were our secret to success. Other important ingredients included light packs – we were going fast and light to make it to the cache and back in a day (although we did have enough extras that we were prepared to stay overnight if we had to), and it made the acrobatic manoeuvres required when scrub bashing on steep slopes oh so much easier. We carried plenty of water, M&Ms, jelly beans, as well as some other more boring food (and the emergency tube of army ration condensed milk).

Spending Sunday night at Tidal River, we woke up early and drove to the Oberon carpark for breakfast, before finalising our packing, donning our scrub-proof hiking attire, and setting off finally as the sun rose. There was an early scare as my large dinner the night before combined with a muesli breakfast obviously hadn’t been enough: with plummeting blood sugar I struggled to walk the graded path to Windy Saddle. This problem was solved with an impromptu second breakfast, and all was fine again, the mission could begin.

With memories of thick impenetrable scrub from last time, we found this time round it was comparably easy going. The light packs helped, and we were a bit more canny when it came to picking the best route through the scrub, and the best line up the mountain. In general it was a bit less damp than last time as well, which helped as well.

Having reached Mt Ramsay in about an hour, we quickly admired the view, then set off again. We only made the mistake of sitting down in leech territory once – the saddle between Ramsay and Latrobe is a BAD resting spot people, even if reaching it does feel like a significant milestone. We didn’t feel the scrub in the saddle area was particularly bad. From memory (repressed though they are) the worst scrub patches we hit were near the summit of Ramsay, with a few nasty bands coming up Ramsay from Windy Saddle, and a few more unpleasant bands coming up on the south side of Mt Latrobe.

Finally we reached the summit of Latrobe shortly after midday, the cache about 30 seconds after that. There was much rejoicing, photo taking, lunch eating, and claiming of the mountain for the great pirate nation

Our return journey was relatively uneventful, as we passed by the site of the Great Leech Battle of 2007 (where we had fought of the two leeches Megan had somehow acquired, and there was much singeing of leg hairs), and by the Campsite of the Great Cache Attempt of 2006.

By the time we got to the summit of Mt Ramsay, we felt like we were almost on a graded path it was all so familiar. As the scrub finally spat us out into Windy Saddle there was much rejoicing and consumption of jelly beans. As we walked back to the carpark, the sun sunk lower in the sky, and we had a lovely sunset to watch, silhouetting the burnt tree trunks. We reached the van just before the sun started tipping the edge of the horizon. Aaaahhhhh.

The statistics

Return time from Mt Oberon carpark: 11 hours 20 minutes
Attached leeches found on person: 3
Unattached leeches found on person: Innumerable

Telegraph Saddle departure 06:30
Windy Saddle arrival 07:10
Windy Saddle departure 07:30
Mt Ramsay 08:45
Ramsay/Latrobe Saddle 10:45
Mt Latrobe 12:10
Latrobe Summit departure 13:00
Ramsay/Latrobe Saddle again 14:20
Mt Ramsay again 16:00
Windy Saddle again 17:00
Telegraph Saddle again 17:50

Categories
general hiking travel trip reports

albert river circuit

The overnight hike of the trip – the Albert River Circuit in Lamington National Park, from Green Mountain out to Echo Point and back.

Albert River was that way apparently. We followed the arrow, the sign seemed to know what it was talking about.

 

The walk goes past many waterfalls. Thanks to the drought (Brisbane is in Stage 5 water restrictions) most of them were not particularly vigorous about the whole falling thing. Trickle would have been more accurate.

 

The view from Echo Point, from the Lamington National Park up in Queensland, down to the hills of New South Wales. None of the photos could do it justice. Here Mt Warning is visible in the light of the setting sun – it was first to be lit up by the sunrise as well. To the left of it the Cape Byron lighthouse could be seen at night, and to the far left the Gold Coast was visible. And in the valley below us – lots of tiny little moving dots that were possibly cattle.

 

Our little dark rainforest campground, just by Echo Point

 

Categories
general hiking trip reports

happy mothers day

After driving along a bumpy windy hilly dirt road for what seemed forever, through fog and then snow, we arrived at the carpark on Friday night, at about 12.30. Consensus was to hike in then, so we didn’t have to pack up camp in the morning. Half an hour later we were in warm hiking clothes, packs at the ready. Ten minutes later half of the clothes had been removed, and shoes were getting damp from slogging through snow. The full moon was so bright you could nearly manage without a headlamp… except for those occasional rocks lurking in the snow, or frozen over puddles lying in wait to trap you… I turned my headlamp back on. Five kilometres later we reached the Vallejo Gantner Hut. Ran up to look at Crosscut Saw, covered in snow, under the light of the full moon. After setting up the tent, I ran around taking photos until I remembered it was getting close to 3am and I should really be in bed.

Sleep in, then a lazy wander out to Mt Howitt on Saturday.

 
We napped in the sun on the summit for a couple of hours – beautiful clear day, no wind at all, before moving on to the West Peak of Howitt, and napping there (and building a snow alien).

 
Finally we wandered back to the hut, to cook dinner on the steps as the sun set, and clouds rolled over Crosscut Saw and started filling up Terrible Hollow. Then moved inside where the fire was warm, and there was Tokay to drink.

 
Waking up Sunday, we were in cloud, so walked out to the cars instead of spending a day hiking along Crosscut Saw with views of whiteness. Loaded the cars up and drove a few kilometres down the road, to hike into Bryce’s Gorge, and waterfalls that probably don’t flow so much in the Summer… these are Conglomerate Falls.

 
Back around the loop, past Guy’s Hut – a basic drover style one, rather than the luxury of the Vallejo Gantner – and back out to the cars, and home again home again, along the windy windy roads through the dark and rain.

Categories
general hiking trip reports

how not to epic – part two

(For the start of the adventure, see Part One)

I woke up at 7 on Saturday morning, but in the end it’s 8 by the time we were packed and hiking out of camp. Our plan was to hike out on Crosscut Saw, and get as close to the Razor as we could – of course the plan was really to get to the Razor, but we didn’t know if we’d be able to cover that much ground. We set off on a cool morning, but once we reached Crosscut Saw, it was warming up.

The morning view of Crosscut Saw from camp

 
Before too long, we were covering new ground. Up and down, up and down. The Crosscut Saw reminded me of a rather tame version of the Beggary Bumps in Southwest Tassie. Alex lags behind me on the uphills, then I lag behind him on the downhills. We reach Mt Buggery, then down into Horrible Gap in two hours. We’re covering ground in good time. Then we head up again onto Mount Speculation, stopping for a moment to admire the view, then hiking onwards to Catherine’s Saddle. The track starts to deteriorate, and become a lot less fun – we are forcing our way through scrubbery, and have to pay more attention to track finding. Down in Catherine’s Saddle we look around to work out the way, spotting a worn path leading off to the left, we follow it to a dugout shelter – an old mine digging? Some crazy hermit? Who knows.

We keep moving to the unexciting Mt Despair, and then force our way along the manky track across towards the Razor. The track makes it’s way across conglomerate rock slopes, and through bushes, staggering around like a drunk, weaving around obstacles that aren’t there.

By the time we get to the turnoff to the Razor, Alex’s water bladder is empty, mine is getting low, and we just have our shared water bottle left. Alex collapses, and doesn’t want to go any further – he’s happy for me to run out and see how close I can get to the top though, while he has something to eat. It’s 2pm, when I leave, saying I’ll be back by 3, and head off across the conglomerate death slopes. After taking ages to find a way across one gully, I realise it’s hopeless – a whole system of gullies and death slopes separate me from my goal, I’d be lucky to get there in an hour, let alone back again. I make one last scramble up onto a high point, scoping out future approaches, then turn around and run back to Alex. He had been busy eating lunch and fighting off march flies. We assess our water situation – it’s alright, we can pick up more from Camp Creek, before Mt Spec – we’re assuming that the hiker we’d met last night (who told us Camp Creek was dry) had been looking in the wrong place, he didn’t seem to have looked in the right place from where he was gesturing on the map. Either way, we were still a couple of hours away from potential water. I grab some more food, and we start hiking back. I realise our stubbornness has made us leave the turnaround point a bit late in the day. We’ll be finishing in the dark for sure.

Getting to Camp Creek proves difficult. My water runs out too, so we’re rationing our last water bottle between us. By now it’s lovely and warm – the projected afternoon storm never turned up, despite us willing the rumbling thunder to turn into rain for us. We take a slightly different path back, following the 4WD track for longer instead of heading straight up Mt Spec. Finally we are within 100 metres of the creek, and we tear down the gully – well, Alex tears, I go as fast as my knees will let me. “Can you hear that?” he calls – ah, the creek has plenty of water in it, it’s gurgling away loud and healthily. At the creek already, he calls again: “There’s water for you!”. I curse him, as I’m moving as fast as I can, and yes, I am rather thirsty, and yes, I had assumed the existence of the creek meant there was water for me. He calls out something else and I threaten to thump him when I get down there if he doesn’t shut up. My knees are not feeling bad, but they’re still tender enough after hiking over 20 km of steep terrain.

Rabid alpine caterpillars, completed unrelated to the water

 
Reaching the creek, I gratefully take a waterbottle full of untreated water. At this point I don’t care what organisms are living in my water, I’m thirsty. Thirst slaked, we have a bit to eat, fill up all our water containers, add puritabs, then trek up back out to the 4WD track. On and up Mt Spec. On the summit we stop for some more food – Alex is having trouble eating much though, as he’d been feeling dehydrated for a while. We pass others camped just off the summit – the sun is already getting low in the sky “You’re heading all the way back to Mac Springs tonight?” “Yeah” “Better start running!”

I’m feeling fine, so start trying to make a decent pace now we’re on a good track again, thinking we can still be home by 10pm. Alex isn’t feeling up to it though, and starts to need frequent rests. We get to the top of Mt Buggery, and I try feeding him some manky Cookies n Cream power bar, eating a corner myself as well. He tries to eat it, but his stomach reacts by throwing it up, as well as a litre or so of water. Ok, guess we really will have to take it easy. I resign myself to getting back before midnight hopefully.

Alex is having trouble going uphill mainly – he’s making deals with the path, offering it anything if it will just stop going uphill. I take his pack from him, and try and encourage him to keep going after every rest – the problem is, every time he rests, I have to wait, and get cold, and start feeling worse. We have food still, but none of it is particularly appetising at the moment – I just want to get back to camp for dinner, before I run out of energy (although at this point I don’t have much hope in Alex’s earlier promise to cook dinner for us).

We cross the Crosscut Saw in total darkness – it’s a brilliant clear night though, so every time we rest I spend my time staring at the stars. Out to our west, the lights of Mt Buller mar an otherwise unspoiled alpine landscape. I curse the wind blowing from the west, and enjoy the refuge when the path winds to the east of the ridgeline.

Resting on Crosscut Saw – Alex with GPS and headlamp

 
Finally we reach the point where we got to the top of the Crosscut Saw yesterday. We can make it from here. Automatons, we stumble back towards camp. It’s just before midnight when we reach the tent – 34km and 16 hours later. I get Alex to light the stove, then I cook us a quick pasta dinner. I crawl into the tent, looking forward to sleeping, when Alex points out the huntsman on the roof of the tent. Argh. He gestures at it with a book, then tries unsuccessfully to convince it to crawl into a cup. I grab one of the books in the tent, and use the front cover to trap the spider in the cup. Unfortunately, it’s hard to keep a seal with a book cover when the rest of the book is awkwardly hanging off. The spider starts to escape, crawling onto the book. I yell at Alex to open the tent door, as the spider is franticly trying to crawl it’s way off the book, and I am frantically trying to avoid it deciding I’m a good way off. After some faffing, Alex manages to get the tent open, and I throw the book out. A few seconds later I poke it, check it for spiders, then retrieve, and rezip the tent – carefully closed. So we can finally sleep.


Track profile for the weekend (click for the large version – altitude in metres, distance in kilometres)

c

Categories
climbing general hiking trip reports

rewind – the colorado story

So, I’ll take a break from packing my bags for the trip back to Australia to give a rewind account of the Colorado adventure.

Flying into Colorado, we had some trouble adjusting to the fact it was flat. Really flat. All through Denver and Boulder, up until the point where it suddenly shot up to about 10,000 feet. We’d been hoping to climb the Third Flatiron that night, but we were tired, and weren’t sure about the descent, so we decided to eat lots of food and sleep instead.

the flatirons

As the moon was peeking above the horizon on the evening of Day Two, we were hiking up to the base of the Third Flatiron. By the time we started climbing the moon was hanging low above Boulder, looking enormous and red. The climb we did was the Standard East Face Route – 5.4R. Although the gear was a bit sparse, the belays all involved a single enormous eyebolt, that has probably been there since the days people were doing the route in top hats and crinoline frocks. Climbing by moonlight was amazing – headlights only needed to search for eyebolts, and the occasional foothold. And somehow, all 8 pitches and descent were completed without epic-ing. So we retired to spend another night in our van in the Walmart carpark (did I mention our rental car was upgraded to a van? Vans are the best roadtripping vehicles ever, why have I not done this before?).

Day Three took us to the Longs Peak campground, at 9000 feet or so, where we wandered part way up the trail towards Longs Peak. Day Four, and we decided to head out to Lumpy Ridge (outside of Estes Park) to do some climbing. This plan was going well until we’d hiked a couple of hundred metres towards the cliffs, realised how much further we had to go, and how much harder hauling all this gear around seemed at altitude. A quick change of plans, and the rest of the afternoon was spent bouldering and lazing around.

twin owls

Day Five brought the epic ascent of Longs Peak (14,261 feet), a story that will be told another day. Suffice to say, we got up the mountain. Day Six, and we drove out through Rocky Mountain National Park towards Leadville. Everything was ridiculously picturesque, and I became angered when I realised we were driving along a stretch of road that was pretty much half as high again as anywhere in Australia.

All throughout Colorado, there were patches of bright yellow aspen trees contrasting against the dark green of the fir trees.

aspen trees

Then after leaving Rocky Mountain NP, on our way to Leadville, we stop off at a town called Hot Sulphur Springs – and guess what?

hot sulphur springs

We stopped in Leadville for dinner, then took our trusty van out on the dirt track to the Mt Elbert trailhead.

colorado hay balse

Day Seven dawned, looking unpleasant and foggy. Eh, the mountain will still be there later in the day. We kept sleeping. Eventually we started out, finally break through the sea of clouds, and have the spectacular view of the surrounding 14ers. Several false summits later, and lots of snow, and we arrive at the summit of Mt Elbert, at 14,440 ft, the highest mountain in Colorado.

mt elbert

We are greeted by a hoard of ominous looking clouds, and scarper back down to the carpark, where we start heading back towards Boulder.

mount elbert views

Our final day in Colorado, and we head to Eldorado Canyon, just outside of Boulder. A lazy day, we climb two pitches of 5.6, a climb called Calypso. Then Boer dislodged an enormous boulder as we make our way down the descent, and we decide to call it a day. Time for more food.