Cradle Mountain to Lake St. Clair
Jan. 22nd, 2006 09:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morslaI'm back in town, having carried half my body weight over a mountain range, and then eaten half my body weight at all-you-can-eat restaurants in Hobart. Going through three hundred photos has helped to jog my memory, but I think I'll still be remembering new facets from the trip for many months to come. Before all the memories trickle out of my brain, I thought I'd try writing some of them down...
Naturally, there are lots of pictures behind the cut... it really isn't possible to do justice to a trip like this without them. Most images are ~20k, so there shouldn't be any real problems loading things. If you just want the photos, you might want to jump straight to http://www.pbase.com/morsla/summer_2006 to look at the thumbnails. The Pbase site also has larger versions of the images for those who want to see a bit more detail. Here are a few thumbnails to whet your appetite :)
The journey doesn't start at the Ronnie Creek crossing. It began almost a year ago, when![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
aeliel and I decided to get a group together to tackle the Overland Track. We had been inspired by crystal-clear skies and a postcard view of Cradle Mountain, and hoped to reach the peak on our first day of hiking. Early on Sunday morning, January 9th, we flew in to Launceston. This time we had company, and we had supplies... more than enough to comfortably make our way through eight days of walking.
We started the trail on Monday morning, walking straight up into the clouds from Ronnie Creek. We took the steep rise up to the saddle in order to avoid near-vertical cliffs along the crater lake route, and hoped to catch a good view of Cradle Mountain from the high ground. Unfortunately, it wasn't to be. With the weather closing in around us, we lost most of our visibility within an hour of starting the walk. Rainclouds hung low over the peaks, and we seemed to spend the day walking through the mist. Giving up on the summit (and completely unable to find it in the clouds) we pressed on for Waterfall Valley.
The next morning I found myself up before the sun, watching the dawn creep its way across the valley floor. To the west was a tall peak, now visible on the clear skyline. As the first rays of sun reached it, it lit up like a beacon. Monday's rain had passed on, and we had only scattered clouds strewn across the sky. As the others stirred in the hut, new clouds began to gather overhead.
There were two plans for Tuesday. Leaving our gear in the valley, we would head for the top of Barn Bluff to look out over the next days' trail. Returning after lunch, we'd pick up the packs and hike across to Windemere Hut - a relatively short walk along the plateau.
The view from the top of the Bluff was well worth the climbing needed to reach the summit. Higher than Cradle Mountain, the Bluff gave us a vantage point to see a large chunk of the island... Off to the north was the oncoming weather, acting as our timer to reach the next port of call.
The group had scattered on the way up, leavingfetnas, geserit and I to tackle the final climb. After regrouping in Waterfall Valley, we set out for Windermere hut - up onto the plateau and across the high ground.
A view of Mount Oakleigh over the plateau
All too soon, our time on the plateau came to an end as we reached the Pine Forest Moor. Knees and ankles had been recovering on the high country, but it was time to start moving up and down hills again.
Wednesday was the hardest walk, as we needed to head for the New Pelion hut far in the distance. The early walk would take us to the edge of the plateau and down into Frog Flats - our original goal, but now discarded in favour of somewhere on higher ground. The frogs of Frog Flats must be monsters if they can survive the local leech population... I'd stayed in Frog Flats once before, and wasn't keen to camp in wetlands again.
Mount Pelion West draws near, eventually disappearing behind us as we start the climb towards the Pelion Plains. Horizontal distance on the map is about 17km, but the knee-wrenching changes in altitude made it seem like double that... we reached Pelion in what was fast becoming our regular style: five minutes before a storm hit, and weary to our bones. Pelion is the newest hut in the park, and it was built like a resort compared to the other huts we'd seen - sleeping 60 indoors, with a host of camping platforms up the hill for those in tents. We set up tents in the Group area - complete with a table and cooking areas, raised off the ground to protect the vegetation. I'm heading back to Pelion one day, to base a few day walks from it.
Thursday took us from Pelion to Kia Ora hut, past the track leading towards Mount Ossa. We didn't aim for the top of the mountain, as the weather was beginning to change as we passed the turnoff. Within minutes most of the peak had vanished into cloud, and we hurried on towards the hut. We walked on the edge of the storm, trying to reach the campsite before the skies opened up... this shot was taken in the last moment of sunshine for the day.
The next day was set aside for R&R... a short (and mercifully flat) walk along the contours, stopping at three waterfalls. First up were the D'Alton Falls - thundering curtains of water spilling out across a ravine. We soaked up the water spray, and headed upriver to find our next stop.
The Fergusson Falls looked like a perfect swimming spot, and came equipped with a family doing just that. The family group had been covering ground at about the same speed we had, despite havng two primary-school-aged children... luckily, they tended to set out long before us most mornings. Here's the amazing balancingfuturelegend walking out towards the falls...
The Hartnett Falls were the tallest on our trip, but not the most violent - that honour being taken by the D'Alton cascade. Up the top was a waterhole filled with 'refreshing' ten-degree water... the other five decided to go swimming, but I opted to scramble around on the rocks instead.
Naturally, someone just had to climb down over the cliffs. Climbing moss-slicked rocks is remarkably difficult - more so when carrying a camera and tripod... The cliffs formed a series of ledges, each a couple of metres apart. I climbed down as far as I felt I could return from, and settled down to enjoy the view.
We finished the day at Windy Ridge Hut, making it the shortest walk of the trip. The walking plan is being revised day by day, as feet and legs begin to tire.aeliel and I decide to stay at the hut until after lunch, leaving the other four to set out for Narcissus Hut and Lake Petrarch. We plan to meet them on the southern shore of Lake St. Clair on Sunday night after following a shortened plan that lets us spend more time enjoying the trail.
Mount Olympus dominates the skyline on the final approach towards Narcissus Hut - our final night in the park. On reaching the hut, we bump intomousebane and futurelegend - they have decided to opt out of the rough hike to Lake Petrarch, leaving fetnas and geserit to tackle the pass together. Much later in the evening, the last two join us at the hut. The trail through Byron Gap has petered out completely, leaving them to climb through dense scrub for three hours before giving up as the light failed. Something out there seems to want us to stick together.
The next series were taken after arriving at Narcissus Hut, on the northern shore of Lake St. Clair. When the wind drops, the lake and river are like glass. It's easy to imagine how you could sit here and stare at the reflections all day...
Further upstream, there's a change in vegetation. Grassy knoll, anyone?
Rocks to climb on, too. I scrabbled out into the middle of the stream, using my tripod as a balancing pole. After a week of conserving energy for warmth and walking, I'd reached the end of the walk. Realising that I had daylight remaining, plenty of memory for photos and a few hours to kill, I shot a third of my trip photos around the river and shoreline.
I awoke before dawn on the last day. We'd stayed in a hut for the first time since Waterfall Valley, and it was too noisy to get much sleep... lots of people in the bunkroom, and mice that were chewing through the packs. I decided to put my insomnia to use, and left the hut with my camera.
Of course, I discovered a few technical difficulties involved in taking pictures at 4 Celsius. My camera batteries were too cold to draw enough power for more than a couple of shots at a time, so I had to keep the camera inside my jacket to warm it up between shots. Standing at the tripod for more than a minute or so meant that my fingers became too cold to press any buttons...
I got up before the mist, and captured a few wisps of it before the air warmed enough to carry it off the lake.
Eventually the sunlight reached the valley floor, and it was time to head back inside. My stomach was rumbling after two hours of walking around the shore and I was hoping that the mice had left breakfast intact.
Hours later, the ferry had taken us across the lake to our final destination: Cynthia Bay, on the southern shore of Lake St. Clair. The last time I came here I was just about to start walking the trail from south to north, and the whole lake was filled with early-morning fog. This time, we stripped off our cold-weather gear and stretched out on the beach for a couple of hours, killing time until a bus arrived to take us to Hobart. But that's a story for a different time.
Naturally, there are lots of pictures behind the cut... it really isn't possible to do justice to a trip like this without them. Most images are ~20k, so there shouldn't be any real problems loading things. If you just want the photos, you might want to jump straight to http://www.pbase.com/morsla/summer_2006 to look at the thumbnails. The Pbase site also has larger versions of the images for those who want to see a bit more detail. Here are a few thumbnails to whet your appetite :)
The journey doesn't start at the Ronnie Creek crossing. It began almost a year ago, when
aeliel and I decided to get a group together to tackle the Overland Track. We had been inspired by crystal-clear skies and a postcard view of Cradle Mountain, and hoped to reach the peak on our first day of hiking. Early on Sunday morning, January 9th, we flew in to Launceston. This time we had company, and we had supplies... more than enough to comfortably make our way through eight days of walking.We started the trail on Monday morning, walking straight up into the clouds from Ronnie Creek. We took the steep rise up to the saddle in order to avoid near-vertical cliffs along the crater lake route, and hoped to catch a good view of Cradle Mountain from the high ground. Unfortunately, it wasn't to be. With the weather closing in around us, we lost most of our visibility within an hour of starting the walk. Rainclouds hung low over the peaks, and we seemed to spend the day walking through the mist. Giving up on the summit (and completely unable to find it in the clouds) we pressed on for Waterfall Valley.
The next morning I found myself up before the sun, watching the dawn creep its way across the valley floor. To the west was a tall peak, now visible on the clear skyline. As the first rays of sun reached it, it lit up like a beacon. Monday's rain had passed on, and we had only scattered clouds strewn across the sky. As the others stirred in the hut, new clouds began to gather overhead.
There were two plans for Tuesday. Leaving our gear in the valley, we would head for the top of Barn Bluff to look out over the next days' trail. Returning after lunch, we'd pick up the packs and hike across to Windemere Hut - a relatively short walk along the plateau.
The view from the top of the Bluff was well worth the climbing needed to reach the summit. Higher than Cradle Mountain, the Bluff gave us a vantage point to see a large chunk of the island... Off to the north was the oncoming weather, acting as our timer to reach the next port of call.
The group had scattered on the way up, leaving
fetnas, geserit and I to tackle the final climb. After regrouping in Waterfall Valley, we set out for Windermere hut - up onto the plateau and across the high ground.A view of Mount Oakleigh over the plateau
All too soon, our time on the plateau came to an end as we reached the Pine Forest Moor. Knees and ankles had been recovering on the high country, but it was time to start moving up and down hills again.
Wednesday was the hardest walk, as we needed to head for the New Pelion hut far in the distance. The early walk would take us to the edge of the plateau and down into Frog Flats - our original goal, but now discarded in favour of somewhere on higher ground. The frogs of Frog Flats must be monsters if they can survive the local leech population... I'd stayed in Frog Flats once before, and wasn't keen to camp in wetlands again.
Mount Pelion West draws near, eventually disappearing behind us as we start the climb towards the Pelion Plains. Horizontal distance on the map is about 17km, but the knee-wrenching changes in altitude made it seem like double that... we reached Pelion in what was fast becoming our regular style: five minutes before a storm hit, and weary to our bones. Pelion is the newest hut in the park, and it was built like a resort compared to the other huts we'd seen - sleeping 60 indoors, with a host of camping platforms up the hill for those in tents. We set up tents in the Group area - complete with a table and cooking areas, raised off the ground to protect the vegetation. I'm heading back to Pelion one day, to base a few day walks from it.
Thursday took us from Pelion to Kia Ora hut, past the track leading towards Mount Ossa. We didn't aim for the top of the mountain, as the weather was beginning to change as we passed the turnoff. Within minutes most of the peak had vanished into cloud, and we hurried on towards the hut. We walked on the edge of the storm, trying to reach the campsite before the skies opened up... this shot was taken in the last moment of sunshine for the day.
The next day was set aside for R&R... a short (and mercifully flat) walk along the contours, stopping at three waterfalls. First up were the D'Alton Falls - thundering curtains of water spilling out across a ravine. We soaked up the water spray, and headed upriver to find our next stop.
The Fergusson Falls looked like a perfect swimming spot, and came equipped with a family doing just that. The family group had been covering ground at about the same speed we had, despite havng two primary-school-aged children... luckily, they tended to set out long before us most mornings. Here's the amazing balancing
futurelegend walking out towards the falls...The Hartnett Falls were the tallest on our trip, but not the most violent - that honour being taken by the D'Alton cascade. Up the top was a waterhole filled with 'refreshing' ten-degree water... the other five decided to go swimming, but I opted to scramble around on the rocks instead.
Naturally, someone just had to climb down over the cliffs. Climbing moss-slicked rocks is remarkably difficult - more so when carrying a camera and tripod... The cliffs formed a series of ledges, each a couple of metres apart. I climbed down as far as I felt I could return from, and settled down to enjoy the view.
We finished the day at Windy Ridge Hut, making it the shortest walk of the trip. The walking plan is being revised day by day, as feet and legs begin to tire.
aeliel and I decide to stay at the hut until after lunch, leaving the other four to set out for Narcissus Hut and Lake Petrarch. We plan to meet them on the southern shore of Lake St. Clair on Sunday night after following a shortened plan that lets us spend more time enjoying the trail.Mount Olympus dominates the skyline on the final approach towards Narcissus Hut - our final night in the park. On reaching the hut, we bump into
mousebane and futurelegend - they have decided to opt out of the rough hike to Lake Petrarch, leaving fetnas and geserit to tackle the pass together. Much later in the evening, the last two join us at the hut. The trail through Byron Gap has petered out completely, leaving them to climb through dense scrub for three hours before giving up as the light failed. Something out there seems to want us to stick together.The next series were taken after arriving at Narcissus Hut, on the northern shore of Lake St. Clair. When the wind drops, the lake and river are like glass. It's easy to imagine how you could sit here and stare at the reflections all day...
Further upstream, there's a change in vegetation. Grassy knoll, anyone?
Rocks to climb on, too. I scrabbled out into the middle of the stream, using my tripod as a balancing pole. After a week of conserving energy for warmth and walking, I'd reached the end of the walk. Realising that I had daylight remaining, plenty of memory for photos and a few hours to kill, I shot a third of my trip photos around the river and shoreline.
I awoke before dawn on the last day. We'd stayed in a hut for the first time since Waterfall Valley, and it was too noisy to get much sleep... lots of people in the bunkroom, and mice that were chewing through the packs. I decided to put my insomnia to use, and left the hut with my camera.
Of course, I discovered a few technical difficulties involved in taking pictures at 4 Celsius. My camera batteries were too cold to draw enough power for more than a couple of shots at a time, so I had to keep the camera inside my jacket to warm it up between shots. Standing at the tripod for more than a minute or so meant that my fingers became too cold to press any buttons...
I got up before the mist, and captured a few wisps of it before the air warmed enough to carry it off the lake.
Eventually the sunlight reached the valley floor, and it was time to head back inside. My stomach was rumbling after two hours of walking around the shore and I was hoping that the mice had left breakfast intact.
Hours later, the ferry had taken us across the lake to our final destination: Cynthia Bay, on the southern shore of Lake St. Clair. The last time I came here I was just about to start walking the trail from south to north, and the whole lake was filled with early-morning fog. This time, we stripped off our cold-weather gear and stretched out on the beach for a couple of hours, killing time until a bus arrived to take us to Hobart. But that's a story for a different time.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-01-22 10:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-22 12:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-22 01:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-22 09:57 pm (UTC)Great photos
Date: 2006-01-22 10:41 pm (UTC)I want to have the full collenction of images in cronological order and depending on how much space I have left on the DVD, I'll try to put in sub folders of the photos taken by the individual.
Re: Great photos
Date: 2006-01-22 11:32 pm (UTC)Re: Great photos
Date: 2006-01-22 11:44 pm (UTC)Re: Great photos
Date: 2006-01-23 12:49 am (UTC)Re: Great photos
Date: 2006-01-23 03:20 am (UTC)I need to pack some very warm clothes then?
Re: Great photos
Date: 2006-01-23 03:27 am (UTC)Re: Great photos
Date: 2006-01-24 11:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-23 04:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-23 04:11 am (UTC)Piccies of Gold
Date: 2006-01-23 05:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-09 03:46 am (UTC)Especially for
http://www.pbase.com/morsla/image/55146804
and
http://www.pbase.com/morsla/image/55146937