For more pictures from Cradle Mountain follow this link to the Photo Gallery.

Sunday 23/1/11

We're off for the next adventure - this time taking the girls for their first "hut trek" at Cradle Mountain. It's quite an undertaking preparing for four days of hiking for five people - catering for all tastes (vegetarians, meat-lovers, chocaholics) and all weather possibilities (it snows up there in the middle of summer sometimes).

Sarah, Bronte and Juliette all took part in the menu planning and the grocery shopping - they were more than happy to be in charge of selecting their survival rations of chocolate bars. The girls are carrying their own packs with their sleeping bag, sleep mat, clothes, snacks and water. Damien is carrying all of the food so his pack weighs in at about 25kg, way too heavy, but that's how it has to be. On the up side, at least his load will lighten with every meal!

We stayed at Waldheim Cabins the first night. This was a good way to ensure we could get an early start for our hike to Waterfall Valley. The girls thought the cabins were awesome and the highlight of the evening was a "wombat stroll" along the boardwalk to Ronny Creek. Eight wombats were spotted including one which moseyed right up near us munching on the grass.

Monday 24/1/11 Dove Lake to Waterfall Valley (Day 1 of the Overland Track). 10.5km 5.5hrs
Over breakfast in the morning, Damien gave the girls a briefing about "Leave No Trace" hiking, explaining the importance of Cradle Mountain as a World Heritage Listed area and the things we need to do when hiking to preserve it and protect it. They really took the message on board with enthusiasm and when we came across Ranger Alex in the Dove Lake car park the next morning were happy to share their learnings with him. He reckoned the girls should be stuffed and mounted on the wall as models of the perfect hikers. Not a bad start to the hike!


The wind she blew fierce that day, my friend.
As Sarah put it "We nearly got blown off Marion's Lookout!". Gale force winds don't make for great hiking conditions, but we strode on determinedly. We were very happy to reach Kitchen Hut, our lunch stop. I'll own that I was having thoughts of turning back at that point, but recalling the amount of effort that had gone in to getting us there I decided to persist. Hot chocolates and egg sandwiches were devoured and we were very happy to find the next stage of our walk was sheltered from the wind.

The girls were quite taken with the scenery up on the Plateau, especially the cushion plants. As we rounded behind Cradle Mountain Juliette pointed to some Nothofagus foliage and confidently told me the leaves are delicious. "Really?" I asked, trawling my memory unsuccessfully for this fact. "Yes, I read it on the poster at Kitchen Hut. It said this is a Delicious Beech tree". The penny dropped. "You mean the Deciduous Beech right!". We shared a chuckle at her mistake, but it's good to know she's learning about the flora.

We trod past the grey stand of snow gum trees and up on to the ridge of the Cirque where we had an uninterrupted view of the mountain peaks all the way to Lake St Clair and beyond. We recognised Pelion East and Mt Oakleigh where we camped nearly a year ago on the Arm River track. Bronte was chuffed to know that she was hiking day one of the Overland Track. "Mum, do you think other hikers will think I'm walking the whole Overland Track?" she asked.

Somewhat wearily we arrived at Waterfall Valley hut at 5pm. It took us 5 1/2 hours to get here with a 1 hour stop for lunch, so our pace was pretty reasonable.

Bronte, Juliette and Sarah were terrific hut dwellers, making their own quiet fun up on the sleep platform hunkered down in their sleeping bags to escape the evening's chill. Dinner of soup, noodles and pesto pasta was relatively successful. Supper of chocolate and Cheds was a big winner.


We all slept fitfully (as one does on an inch-thick Thermarest). Bronte was more fitful than most performing jack-knifes, triple-saltos and finishing with a Thermarest jettison, all without waking. At one stage I woke to find she had shifted from lying beside me, to lying sideways above me. Fearful of copping a jack-knife to the head I grabbed the bottom of her sleeping bag and spun her back into position. She didn't even stir.

Tuesday 25/1/11 Waterfall Valley to Lake Rodway. 4.9km 3.5hrs
After breakfast we poked around the waterfall in Waterfall Valley taking photos of the scenery while the girls played. Sarah reckoned it was just like the forest in Warriors and the three of them spent ages immersed in their imaginary world of cat clans.

Then it was time to set off uphill again for our journey to Scott Kilvert Memorial Hut. Back up on the plateau Bronte asked me "Is there a cafe around here?". "Not likely" I replied. But we passed some time dreaming of what we would order if a cafe appeared by magic.
My favourite lasting mental image from the trip happened here on the boardwalk. It is of three little girls, dressed in bright red tops and khaki backpacks walking in a procession along the ridge of the Cirque against an endless view of mountains and vast open space singing "Doe, a deer, a female deer...".


There was so much mud on the way down to Lake Rodway. Sarah and I both trod in mud that sucked our boots right in. Bronte motored ahead and she and I hiked together to the hut. She went out to explore around the hut and rushed back all excited beckoning me to follow her. She had discovered an echidna snuffling around for ants at the edge of the track near a waterfall and we sat for ages watching his long tongue darting around as he fed.

I really enjoyed hiking with Bronte today. She has a great attitude towards it, even despite the mud she pronounced the landscape to be awesome. We talked about how you gain survival skills and
learn about nature when you hike and she decided that hiking is now her second favourite past-time after horse riding.

Damien, Sarah and Juliette explored a waterfall where Juls was thrilled to be able to get right in behind the falling water.

Our evening at Scott-Kilvert Hut was a convivial one. Two other families hiked in and they had daughters of similar ages to our girls. So even though it rained through the evening, the girls had a great time playing while the grown-ups sat around the fire drinking red wine and chatting.


Wednesday 26/1/11 Scott-Kilvert Hut to Dove Lake via the Twisted Lakes. 6km 4.25hrs
And this was the easy route back??
Tough day. It started gently enough, meandering past the pretty shallow rapids that empty into Lake Rodway; a waterfall plunging into Flynns Tarn; the serene beauty of the Artist's Pool and ascending up to the saddle through the Beech forest. From our lunch stop at the Rangers Hut we decided to return to Dove Lake taking a route we haven't walked before via the Twisted Lakes and Lake Hanson. It was gorgeous scenery but quite rough hiking across sharp quartzite. The girls were quite fatigued (as were we) and Juls reckoned her favourite part of the whole trip was when she first spotted our car in the car park after passing Lake Hanson. That perked us all up for the rest of the journey down the mountain.

So happily we can report that the girls survived trying weather conditions, leeches, no showering for three days and worst of all, the long drop toilets and emerged from the experience smiling and seemingly unscathed. Hopefully we haven't cured them of hiking for the rest of their lives, because we can't wait to get them out into the wilderness again. We reckon they're awesome!


For more pictures from Cradle Mountain follow this link to the Photo Gallery.

If you read our piece about new year's eve 2010 you'll know one of our favourite ways to spend a summer evening is with a swim in the South Esk River at the Cataract Gorge just a few minutes from our home.

It's a great spot for a dip with lovely little waterfalls, some fun currents to swim with and against, and plenty of big rocks to do bombs off!

Well, the South Esk catchment has had a bit of rain lately and as you can see from the pictures I took this afternoon it's probably not a great idea to swim there until after the river drops a bit!

Hover your mouse over each picture for a larger view.

One of the technical challenges to overcome when photographing in regions above 4500 metres is the sheer abundance of light. With the atmosphere overhead significantly thinner than at sea level the sun shines with a brilliance that glares from every surface. Additionally, with snow capped peaks encircling us and glaciers running alongside our route there is bright white light reflecting from every direction. Underfoot the ground is a light grey gravel which lights up the landscape from below like a huge photographer's reflector and there are no trees anywhere on the barren landscape to soak up the light with their dark foliage.

Anyone who has tried to take photographs in such sharp specular light knows there is a risk that in exposing for the well lit surface of a face or a stone wall our cameras render shadows as deep blacks bereft of detail. Faces tend to have black holes where eyes should be and landscapes are a colourless mix of bright white features interspersed with great rifts of featureless black in the shadows.

Perhaps in suffering for my art, or perhaps just for the fun of it, I brought along equipment to help me take a few shots in conditions completely opposite to these - late at night, in a near absence of light.

The sun disappears quite early in the Khumbu, maybe 4.30 or 5.00pm, due to the artificially high "horizon" created by the massive mountains. The sky stays illuminated until almost 8.30 by which time it begins to fill with the stars which are the subject of my nocturnal photos. I had plans to take long exposure shots of star trails sweeping across the sky above gently illuminated mountain ranges so I packed a good tripod, plenty of batteries (in Sherridan's bag....) and a few other gadgets to make night time photos possible. Unfortunately, almost every perfect clear daytime sky was followed by creeping fogs that cloaked the valleys just as the stars were beginning to shine their brightest so in 2 weeks in the mountains I only had 2 clear night time skys to photograph.

When sitting inside a guesthouse dining room warmed by the stove and comforted by friendly conversation with other trekkers the decision to venture outside into temperatures 10 degrees or more below zero is not exactly an easy one. Once the light disappears from the sky the air temperature plummets so heading outside for 2 or 3 hours to take photographs requires a fair amount of motivation. Fortunately all it took was to recall how far and up how many hills I'd lugged all my photography gear because the thought of carrying all that weight in vain was all the inspiration I needed to don my thermals and head out into the night.

Once I'd located the best vantage point for a photo I would set up the tripod, compose my picture, and set my timing equipment to start taking startrail exposures. To capture enough of the Earth's rotation requires several hours of exposure time so this left me with having to either leave the camera gear doing its thing while I retreated to my sleeping bag or waiting outside to make sure the gear was safe. I was prepared to duck inside for a moment or two but no way was I going to leave thousands of dollars worth of electronics unattended in a country where the average worker earns about $50 a month. The Nepalis showed us a few times back in Kathmandu how honest they can be but it only takes one opportunistic thief....

So, while the camera clicked away and the timing equipment quietly beeped I would sit or stand or wander while I waited for the time to pass and as I did this I began to appreciate the sharp contrast between the Himalaya by day and the Himalaya by night. First, the outer reaches of a mountain village are almost totally silent after nightfall. Unlike the daytime din and clamour, by night the cattle and horses are all turned out for sleep and the porters and herders are back inside by that stove I mentioned, making conversation and drinking lemon tea. Outside at midnight in the highest village in the Khumbu I discover I'm the only person foolish enough to be out here. The only noises I hear are my boots on the gravel and the soft footsteps of a lone yak passing through on his way to who knows where.

With silence all around I'm left with only the inconceivably bright stars in the sky to excite my senses. There are one or two lodge windows lit from within but before long the whole village has turned in for bed - the trekkers in their rooms, their porters and guides stretched out on the dining room seats - and the lights of the village are all but extinguished. As a result, I have nothing to rest my eyes upon except the deep darkness around me or the brilliant Milky Way above. The contrast with the brightness of daytime is striking and instead of my eyes stopping down to shut out the abundant white light of the day I'm now having to navigate my way around the rocks and crevasses by starlight as there is not even a moon to substitute for the sun.

It is at this time I find myself feeling quite removed from the Khumbu. Instead of feeling deeply immersed in it's sights and sounds I now feel somewhat disengaged and have the notion that I could be anywhere in the world under the same sky. It's an unusual sensation as I allow myself to imagine I'm back home staring up at the skies, the view would be no different. I see the stars of Orion overhead and recall looking up at them from the Giza Plateau in Egypt 15 years earlier and how I had a similar sensation then of feeling disconnected from the immediate surroundings thanks to the knowledge I could look up at the same constellation from my home back in Launceston and thinking I hadn't really traveled anywhere despite all the miles I'd put behind me.

A couple of hours after starting I switched off the camera and began to pack it away. The towel I wrapped around the lens and camera body had frozen solid and I needed to scrape the ice from the telescopic tripod legs before they could be collapsed. The 6 high capacity batteries fitted to the bottom of the camera can provide power for thousands of images but now they're almost entirely flattened by the cold. With everything packed away I shuffle off to the tea house, negotiating my way in the dark around boulders and expedition tents and as I pass through the dining hall I have to be careful not to wake the porters sleeping on the bench seats that stretch around the room.

Even more quietly I slip into my sleeping bag back in our room. She's pretty tired and will get back to sleep quickly but I really don't want to wake Sherridan given the huge day's walk we would undertake the next day. As quietly as I can I lay on my mattress and scan through the photos I've just taken and hope I've captured something to make the effort of carrying all that gear worthwhile.