Sally's first adventure

Adventure and creativity - my goals for 2019. So, I decided to start the year with a little adventure. Well, to be honest I started 2019 at home watching the Sydney fireworks in my pjs. But, the next day I headed off in Sally for a mini solo adventure. Here we are settling in for the first of 2 nights of free camping at Ben Lomond National Park.

The campsite was full. I was lucky to get the last parking spot. But it was quiet once the small crying child was asleep and the out of tune singing from up the hill stopped, mercifully before sunset. A wallaby came quietly to share my dinner time. Just after 8am the next morning I had breakfasted, packed my lunch and driven up the road a few kms to Carr Villa, a scout hut and car park where more people were camped. I was ready to climb Tasmania's second highest mountain. The sun was already hot.

 There is something mystical about being up above the clouds.

 The locals kept a wary eye on me.

This is what I came to see - scoporia in flower.

Scoporia richea is endemic to Tasmania, only grows up high in the mountains, has sharp pointy leaves, grows 40-100cm high, flowers are a range of reddish, yellow and orange, and sometimes white and pink.

The plateau looked like an artist had come along and dabbed orange, yellow, russet, orchre, burnt sienna paint on a background of grey and green. Autumnal colours for summer.

 There were other flowers too. Mountain rocket.

Orites revolta

Some sort of yellow daisy

 Sundew, a small insectivorous plant growing amongst pineapple grass.

Cushion plants which look like soft mossy cushions but are quite hard to touch

Morning tea. What a view.

Eyebright, I think. At first they were in occasional clumps. A little higher they were sprinkled across large areas of short grass, an alpine flower meadow.

 A meadow of mountain rocket.

 More scoporia, lots more scoporia.

What the heck are these regular sized dimples in the tarns? Looking closely, I could see they were made by tadpoles, nosing around in the soft sludgey silt on the bottom.

 A disused alpine club chalet from the mid 20th century.

And then I was at the top. Legges Tor is the highest point on Ben Lomond. For a few minutes I was the second highest person in Tasmania at 1572 metres. That is assuming there was also someone standing on top of Mt Ossa at the same time, which I figured was quite likely given the amazing weather and that this is the time of year that the Overland Track is often fully booked out. I have been here before, but that day was in June, snow was beginning to fall and there was no view at all.

Shame about the ugly ski buildings and infrastructure dotted about the place, albeit only in one small part of the plateau.

 There was more brilliant scoporia behind the ski village.

I was hot. There are no trees. The only shade I could find was on the veranda of the only pub/cafe which was closed, but I took my boots and sweaty socks off and made myself at home. The village was eerily deserted, devoid of people although there were three cars in the carpark. Some wallabies were hopping around. One stopped to stare at me through the railings. Two magnificent wedgetailed eagles soared above me. One human appeared, a tourist from NSW, who had driven up Jacobs Ladder. She was suitably impressed by the beauty of the landscape.

After my lunch I had to decide which route to take back down to my car. I wandered around the scoporia fields for a bit.

The scoporia lit up the plateau into the distance.

It was hard to see the flittering birds I could hear twittering. This is an Australasian or Richard's Pipit.

Then I walked down the road. The only road up to the plateau and ski village. Jacob's Ladder has six hairpin bends, all named - Gateway, Watchtower, Waterfall, Hanging, Black and Strickland. I waited at these corners for a few cars to pass me on the narrow gravel road.

More flowers on the roadside.

And dramatic views of forested valleys and towering dolerite cliffs.

Look carefully and you can just see a red car on the lower section of the road and a white campervan near the top. I had flagged the van down as they had left the back door open when they drove off after taking photos from the bottom of the ladder. There were three very excited young women in the front seat, clearly enjoying their adventure too.

I walked 7km down the road admiring the views, appreciating the patchy thin shade of the gum trees back to where Sally was waiting at Carr Villa. Three cars slowed to offer me a lift and the park rangers pulled up to check I was ok and tell me that tomorrow was a total fire ban day.

Back at the camp I found a site with dappled shade. I tried to sit outside but the mossies wanted an early dinner so I retreated inside. There was a nice breeze and I needed it to cool the van so I pegged up my mossie net across the back door. It worked very well. I could get used to this lifestyle - reading, walking, writing, drawing, exploring, wandering...

These last photos are obviously not at Ben Lomond but I have to share. The next day I drove to St Helens on the east coast to visit a friend. We spent the afternoon in front of her air conditioner as the temperature was 35.5, and it seems that Sally's air con and fan have stopped working. The next day we went for a stroll along the breakwater at the entrance to the bay and watched a large seal chasing fish back and forth beside us.

A great start to the year. Feeling blessed.

Horsey Wanderings Part III - the real High Country

Day 5
Once again, we were all split into two groups for the ride up to our accommodation for the next two nights. The Six headed off lead by Dean.

We rode up through tall mountain ash forests underlaid with ferns and other prehistoric looking vegetation.

The mist became thicker. I'm sure there are dinosaurs hiding here somewhere. We had a couple of canters up the road.

Riding higher. Fire-killed silhouettes of dead trees from the 2006 bush fires.

The temperature began to drop. Damp clouds enveloped us. Light rain and drizzle. My hands and feet were so cold they hurt. The track became rocky and steep so the horses could go no faster than a walk.

Snow on the ground with clumps of purple and yellow wildflowers.

The refuge hut was a very welcome sight. But you could have lost your way going to the toilet which was hidden in the fog.

A fire! And hot soup for lunch. Heaven!

Poor horses. They were not happy about getting their bridles back on after lunch. My Blackie skidded on a patch of snow as we walked off. No wonder he kept giving the snow suspicious looks; he knew it was slippery.



We rode down slightly below the snow along a narrow track through beautiful mountain ash trees until we reached Razorback Hut. A group of vintage army vehicles passed. There was another group of horse riders camping near the hut with half a dozen horse floats. The horse yard was a quagmire due to the rain.

Blackie wearing his rug for the night, waiting for his dinner.

The Chinese laundry scene in the main hut as we hung our clothes to dry around the two fires. Steam rising. Conversation flowing as we warmed our chilled bodies. Christian told us some good stories about times he has had to call ambulances and helicopters to collect injured riders. 

We retired to a very rustic, uninsulated, cold, drafty wooden hut to snuggle into our sleeping bags inside swags on the bunks. I was very careful on the ladder this time and very glad my sleeping bag is rated to -3 degrees. I will confess that our group of six all opted to avoid stripping for a shower.

Day 6
The penaltimate Man from Snowy River day began in the foggy skeletal forest.

As we rode higher the cloud began to lift. We could almost see Jim Craig rescuing Jessica from that mountain over there.

We rode up around the side of Mt Stirling and down again. As we rode through some very thick undergrowth Dean announced that we should canter. Really? Here? Where?

So we cantered! Out in to the wide open space of a high mountain ridge. Loretta and me.

Up the slope. Deb.

Along a fence. Fiona and Lisa.

Past the iconic Craig's Hut. Loretta and me.

Talk about a "Man from Snowy River" movie moment! Fiona and Lisa.

Pen!

Me cantering again, just because I could. I think I just might be enjoying myself!

Today's lunch was much more pleasant than yesterday, for both people and horses.

We had a bbq with real billy tea and Anzac biscuits.

Craig's Hut is a movie location. There was never a real hut here. The location is too exposed. The original movie set, built in 1982, burnt down in the 2006 fires. It was rebuilt largely by local 4WD groups who valued it as a destination and part of recent local history. It certainly is in a beautiful location.

After lunch

We saw hikers and mountain bike riders today, This is a great area to explore on foot, wheels and hoof.

Dean looking very much the Man from Snowy River. The peak of Mt Stirling in the background.

Glamping tents left over from winter. Used by cross-country skiers and skidoo riders.

 Another evening in Razorback Hut. Swampy returned to sing for us.

Singing along around the outside fire pit. The Gambler will never be the same with Loretta trying to harmonize. It will always remind me of this trip. Swampy also sang great versions of The Man from Snowy River and Clancy of the Overflow - those iconic Banjo Paterson poems about great horsemen.

Day 6 - the last ride.

Oh wow! Sunshine! The hut looks so much better. It was still very cold.

Heading down through mountain ash. Gwen lead us on a couple of good long canters. Loretta's horse fell over on a wet grassy corner but they both got back up and continued on.

Giving the horses a drink.

Blackie watching the vintage army vehicles go by again.

A clever Do Not Litter sign near a ski building. I can't believe how excited we were to use the flushing toilets behind the building.

Mt Buller and its ski village could be seen across the valley as we descended Mt Stirling down the road.

Then we dropped off the edge onto an old over grown logging track and into the most amazing thicket of ferns.

A narrow slippery river crossing.

The shared track along the Delatite River criss-crosses back and forth over the river numerous times. We encountered some mountain bikers. One group were sternly educated by Gwen about riding too fast up behind horses. They scared the ones at the back of our group. Trail rules here are that hikers and bikers all must give way to hrses.

We did some cantering between the river crossings. I would like to come back here with my mountain bike.

At the picnic grounds we unsaddled near the horse trucks.

Our horses were hosed down with water pumped from the river, given a brush, allowed to eat some sweet grass and tied up under some trees to await their drive home in the trucks. We sadly said goodbye and thank you to our faithful friends.

After another delicious bbq lunch we all posed for a final photo before heading off back to our real lives.

Now that you have read the book - watch the movie! This video of our ride was filmed and produced by Jason and Nicole. Enjoy the High Country