Mount Anne, The Notch, Lightening
Ridge, Lonely Tarns
In the loft, the
women were still sleeping when Doug and I got up in the dark, made
breakfast and packed up. We were just finishing our breakfast coffee
when they scrambled down the ladder, somewhat shame faced at us
having woken them instead of the other way round. When Doug and I
left the little hut, the gold light of dawn was just touching the
Western Arthur Range and the valley below was an ocean of white
cloud. "We'll see you when you pass us," Doug quipped as
we left. The women smirked thinking that would be sooner than we
might imagine. Expectations.
We scrambled back
up the boulders we had started up the day before, still being careful
as they were slickly wet. The track climbs another 250 metres in
half a kilometre to the summit of Mount Eliza and much of the way is
up large blocks of dolerite the size of small cars. To save time, we
tried to follow the cairns assiduously rather than waste time finding
the best route, but we still had to backtrack a few times to climb
onto or off of particularly large boulders.
Once on Mount
Eliza, an open alpine plateau leads north to Mount Anne and we got
our first glimpse of the talus slopes and stacked columns of Mount
Anne. It would have been nice to linger on this plateau where sea
green cushion plants surround tiny tarns that reflect the surrounding
mountains and the oblique morning sun was casting golden shadows
across the boiling valley cloud, but we were too concerned with the
terrain we needed to cover that day to do more than snap a few
pictures and keep walking. Expectations.
Doug on the Mount Eliza plateau
Before you reach
the track junction at the saddle where the route to Mount Anne splits
off the circuit route, another boulder field must be crossed. We
teetered warily across this one. A broken bone or even twisted ankle
here would have serious consequences. From the saddle, we could see
multi-coloured tents spread about a high flat platform at the Shelf
Camp, and the ridge the circuit route traverses jagged as a dragons
back above. "Slow travel" we said to each other.
Expectations.
We left our packs
at a large cairn and took with us our waterproof jackets (despite the
clear skies we had no confidence the valley cloud would not rise up
and rain) and cameras. The route to the summit is relatively well
cairned, first up boulders to a bit of track over a subsidiary
summit, then up more boulders and talus to the base of the dolerite
columns. The twenty somethings from the day before were on their way
back down, but they had not made the summit. The final steps up the
dolerite columns had been too difficult and exposed for them.
Expectations.
A few moments only on top of Mount Anne,
Doug B. photo
The last section
of the route weaves up steps interspersed with ledges and wraps
around the mountain to traverse another slabby ledge where there is
one final step up to the surprisingly flat topped summit. Rock
climbers will find it neither difficult nor exposed (it is around YDS
class four), but hikers will find it both, and, dripping with water
the scrambling certainly warranted caution. Within an hour, we were
crouched on the summit block. Our stay was all of three minutes
long, as we felt we still had a long way to go. I have lost count of
the number of mountains I have climbed and subsequently spent less
than ten minutes on the summit before beginning to reverse the route.
Expectations.
We quickly
reversed the route down to our packs. Near the track junction, we
met a party of two, day walkers, one of whom asked "Is it worth
it?" Doug and I were literally gob-smacked. I'm used to this
kind of question from tourists huffing and puffing along a wide well
maintained trail, but not from people who have just hiked up 1000
metres and scrambled across teetering stacks of slick boulders.
Generally, if you have to ask, the answer is no. We mumbled
something about scrambling up wet slippery rocks and got the reply
that "things are better when they are wet." With that
attitude you really can't go wrong in Tasmania but it did lead me to
question the experience of the two walkers. Expectations.
We snacked while
we changed clothes and then sped off along a rough track down to
Shelf Camp. I was surprised to see a number of tents still standing
and people lounging about. The weather, I thought, was anything but
stable, and I would be making good use of this time when it was
neither clouded in nor rainy to move on. Expectations.
Two walkers on Lightening Ridge above Lonely Tarns,
Doug B. photo
A maze of tracks
lead out from Shelf Camp, and we had the misfortune to get on the
wrong one which climbed high under the jagged ridge above while the
cairned route was on the plateau below. We struggled along forced to
scramble up and down ledges when the track disappeared then
reappeared above or below us. There were several awkward manoeuvres
and a lot of tenacious bush. Below us, we saw two people seeming to
stroll along easily but we could not see that they were on a track
and I dislike following others for fear they do not actually know
where they are going. We stopped, pulled out our mobile phone to
check the map and track notes (useless). I thought we should go
down, Doug thought up as we were nearly on the ridge crest again,
but, "it's your trip," he said, "just make a decision
and lets go, I don't want to be benighted." Expectations.
I chose down, and
we thrashed through unpleasant scratchy bush down slick rock bands to
a rough track on the plateau below. It's hard to remember exactly
how the route progressed from this point. We scrambled up to the
ridge proper numerous times, followed cairns across huge boulders on
the ridge crest, some times backtracking when we were stuck on a
particularly tall boulder to find a route we could climb down,
descended steeply down the north side and followed beaten in tracks
across surprisingly steep terrain before climbing back to the ridge
proper again.
After what seemed
a long time, we turned a shallow buttress on the ridge, scrambled
back up again, and were looking down into The Notch, the crux of the
route. The Notch is a narrow gap between dolerite columns on the
ridge crest and generally requires pack hauling to surmount, and, in
some cases a belay. Looking down into The Notch we saw the party of
twenty somethings just setting up to haul their packs up the five
metre step. Another party of two were waiting and Doug and I quickly
descended to the breezy Notch.
Looking down into The Notch,
Doug B. photo
It was obvious we
would be here a little while so Doug and I put on another layer and
had a quick snack. The old habits of alpine climbers, you eat when
you have a chance, not necessarily when you want, linger long. We
began to make silly jokes about the Hilary Step and "continuing
with style" (you have to be either an Enormocast fan or an
aficionado of The Eiger Sanction to appreciate the latter) but no-one
else seemed to find anything to laugh at. A general suggestion was
made to haul every ones pack at once rather than each separate party
getting their individual haul ropes out, which the twenty something
fellow kindly did. It speeded us all up, but undoubtedly slowed his
party down.
The climb out of
The Notch is again, easy for a climber, but difficult for a walker,
but everyone managed it (even with style). Now, however, we were
stuck in a conga line of slow walkers struggling with the terrain
which still requires scrambling and boulder hopping. We were, of
course, eager to keep pressing on, a desire made more keen by the
cloud that had now risen up from the valley to embrace us all in a
wet fog.
Mount Eliza, Mount Anne, Lightening Ridge
At another step
along the route, Doug and I managed to duck around everyone in front
of us by climbing up a face instead of a corner. We literally
stepped over the belay sling set up by the twenty something where
there was now a bottleneck of seven people variously waiting for a
belay or to have their pack hauled. We were surprised to see the two
women with whom we had shared the cabin as they had almost two hours
start on us (the time it had taken us to climb Mount Anne). As we
dashed past, they seemed surprised that we had climbed Mount Anne.
Expectations.
There is a 1262
metre high point at the north end of the serrated Lightening Ridge,
and here the route begins a steep descent down boulders, ledges, and
steps to a thickly vegetated saddle. The track was fairly well
defined here and the benefit of such a steep track became evident in
the speed with which we were able to descend. Once at the saddle,
the track plunges into dense forest of pandani and myrtle and it is
again a steep and slippery descent, but the many trees encroaching on
the track make useful hand holds. Down near 1000 metres, the track
emerges onto a minor ridge between two tarns in low but wet
vegetation. We had a fabulous view back up to Lightening Ridge and
were astonished at how easy the ridge was to traverse given its
saw-toothed appearance. Expectations.
The ridge the route traverses,
Doug B. photo
Our track notes
had mentioned "many good campsites" but, despite walking
all the way to where the track begins to climb again, we could not
find any campsites that were not quite marginal. The vegetation
while low is hugely hummocky and water seeps out with every step. At
the last possible place where we could camp with water available, we
found a semi-level site right by an unnamed lake and set up camp.
Almost two hours later, the twenty somethings wandered by looking for
a campsite and I could swear they looked at us with more respect than
before. It had taken us about 3.5 hours to walk from Shelf Camp to
Lonely Tarns. We had covered the most distance, done the most
elevation gain, and passed every other party on the route, even those
who had a couple of hours start on us. Expectations.
Before setting up
camp we debated simply having a drink and snack before walking out.
It was, after all, only about 4.30 pm, and we estimated we could walk
the remaining distance (we underestimated the distance by two
kilometres) in 2.5 hours, or perhaps three at the most. In the end,
we decided it would be silly to end the trip walking out in the dark
when we might be able to beat the next days forecast rain if we
started early. Expectations.
Part Four.
Part Four.
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