In 2001 my friends Karen and Damir took me on my first overnight bushwalk to Mt Jagungal and with that walk ignited a passion in me to explore the outdoors on foot. In April this year, precisely 16 years after that first overnight walk, we reprised that trip to Mt Jagungal, The desire to do this walk again was part out of nostalgia and part a desire to revisit this beautiful part of the world. Although I had been back in intervening years, I had not been back with Karen and Damir, so this walk would be coming full circle on that first foray. Of course, doing the same walk again 16 years on is a different proposition: bodies have aged, bones are creakier and the going is a bit slower than in 2001, but I was also wiser and better equipped than I had been on that first walk. When I say better equipped I don’t mean that I have more gear, but that I have better gear and carry less of it!
I flew up to Canberra on the Friday evening of the Anzac Day weekend and on Saturday morning we set out by car towards Cabramurra. The weather forecast did not look good and it rained for most of the way. The radar, though, seemed to offer some hope that the worst of the rain front would have passed Cabramurra by the time we would arrive to start our walk. In Cabramurra we huddled in a picnic shelter as the cold rain drenched the ground and ate our sandwiches there to avoid having to eat out in the rain once we started our walk. My prediction that the rain front would have passed became a reality half an hour later. We parked the car and it stopped raining; if there was ever a good omen for a walk, it was this! There were a few other hardy souls out, but it didn’t look like it would be too crowded at the huts.
We set out with our packs on the 4WD track that leads out and shortly after the start we got a visual on our objective. Mt Jagungal is the most prominent mountain in that part of the Snowy Mountains and is a beautiful sight. At times stopping for a small snack and a drink of water we plodded on towards Dershko’s Hut. We arrived in the late afternoon with still plenty of daylight to set up camp. The hut itself was occupied by various people, but we tend to prefer to sleep in our tents anyway. Damir scouted out a good position on one of the hills above the hut which gave us a perfect view of Mt Jagungal. We pitched our tents, filled up our water bottles and bladders and started preparations for our pasta dinner. With the patience of a Buddhist monk Damir occupied himself with making a small fire to warm us as the evening air rapidly got colder. It took nearly an hour, but then he had coaxed the wet kindling and wood into a comfortable and well-controlled fire around which we ate our pasta, indulged in a drink of Noble One dessert wine and of course chai and chocolate afterwards. Then it was off to our sleeping bags for a good sleep.
It was cold at first, but then I warmed up and when I woke in the morning I understood why it had been so cold with the ground around me all covered in frost. But it did provide for a wonderful view of Mt Jagungal in the morning from my warm down cocoon. Inevitably it was time to rise and get breakfast and tea going, dismantle tents and load up our packs again to reach our objective. We got off to a slow start, thanks to those creaky bones and some sore muscles, but once we got going it was all good. At the foot of the mountain we ditched our packs, took some snacks and water, my InReach Explorer and our rain jackets for the ascent. Those rain jackets turned out to be a wise choice.
We climbed steeply through scrub at first until we got to the plateau where we continued our walk in between magnificent snow gums. At the same time we saw the brilliant blue sky being threatened by a dark cloud building up in the direction where were going. As we got closer to the top, the weather turned quickly, forcing us to put on our jackets as it started to rain, then the clouds moved in completely. The summit marker was approximately 80 meters away as the cloud descended and despite it being so close, we knew it was lunacy to continue. We had been there before, there would be no views due to the cloud cover and going on would court the risk of complicating our return if we lost sight of the track. So after a quick war council, we turned on our heels and followed our tracks back down, only relaxing after we got out of the worst of the cloud. Despite the disappointment of not making the summit, we still enjoyed the views and the walk itself and for all intents and purposes we practically summitted.
The rain stopped as we got to the steep bit and by the time we got back to our packs it had dried out completely. We had some lunch standing up and then put on our packs on again for the rest of the walk to our next goal, O’Keefe’s hut. This is where I have to own up that having an InReach doesn’t necessarily mean that your waypoints are correct. Although I had done my best to get them all recorded accurately, I had made a big mistake with O’Keefe’s hut, thinking it had burned down in the bushfires in 2003, unaware that it had been rebuilt. And so my waypoint was well short of the actual location of the hut. We were confused at our location, not remembering it from our previous foray, but as it did offer water nearby and a good spot for our tents, and given we were all tired, we decided to put up our tents, cook our meal and have a good rest. But not before enjoying a magnificent sunset and its red pink play on the hillsides surrounding us.
The next morning we got underway a bit faster than the previous morning, as we had quite a walk out ahead of us. After about 40 minutes we passed by O’Keefe’s hut, our elusive goal of the previous day, rebuilt and looking very comfortable. I had a tinge of regret and felt foolish for having got it so wrong, but I’ve since updated my waypoints on InReach, so that this mistake does not get made in future. It was another beautiful and sunny day and we soon turned off onto Farm Ridge Track to cut through to the Tumut River, which we had to ford.
We had left this river crossing for the end so that we didn’t have to do most of the walk in soggy boots. We rolled up our pants, but kept our boots on and waded through in knee-deep water to the other side. From there the track ascended for quite a long time until we reached a plateau again. From Round Mountain Hut we had a last glimpse at Mt Jagungal, who had denied us a summit and yet the walk felt like a great success. Shortly afterwards we turned right on Round Mountain Trail again and walked back to the car, which was the last one still there, exchanged wet socks and boots for dry footwear and got into the car for the long drive back to Canberra, pizza, wine that evening and the inevitable stiff bodies the next morning. And of course, five minutes after starting the drive back to Canberra it started raining again.
It was extremely windy when I started out, with an occasional sunshower, but mostly fine. The walk took me past the bulky mass of Mt Oberon, along the coast to the Oberon Bay campsite, which is nestled behind the beach. That didn’t protect it from the gale force winds, though, and the inside of my tent eerily resembled something out of Operation Desert Storm. I had to suck it up and not fret over the amount of sand that was ending up on my sleeping bag and everything else. I even slept with a buff pulled over my eyes, so that sand grains would not lodge in my eyes.
Early the next morning the winds finally died down and after a quick breakfast I was on my way, heading across the peninsula towards Waterloo Bay. Shortly after leaving the camp I could hear cries of yellow-tailed black cockatoos, who were flying in between the trees and keeping a watchful eye on my progress; I suspect there were young birds to protect from evil bushwalkers like me. They accompanied me quite a way until they finally moved off. By then I was nearly at the junction and headed straight for Waterloo Bay. The place looked stunning when I got there and I enjoyed a few minutes sitting on the white sandy beach contemplating life and soaking in the view. Not long afterwards I arrived at Little Waterloo Bay campsite where I stopped for lunch and to fill up on water for the next stretch and quench my substantial thirst. As I walked looking for water I nearly stepped on a tiger snake which was crossing the path. It was not impressed with my progress and had lifted its head, lying motionless. It was only after I took several of steps backwards that it lowered its head and continued in its direction. I got my water, but I will admit that for the rest of the walk every dry twig or branch on the path started to look like a snake in my mind!
After my lunch break I continued on my walk. The path climbed a bit steeply at first and then started a stretch which I remember well from previous walks and is quite demanding in working your way over and around lot of rocks and trees. But I was freshly fed and watered, so I coped with it much better than previous times and had energy to spare to climb up to Kersop Peak at the junction to soak in the view. And that was well worth it on this glorious day. The view stretched wide and far and even the lighthouse was visible from here. I took some photos and then descended back to the path for the descent into the beautiful Refuge Cove. My knees were grateful when I walked into camp and at 3pm I still had the pick of most sites. After putting up my tent and sorting out my things I indulged in a dip in the rather unexpectedly chilly waters of Refuge Cove, but it was blissful for the weary muscles. That was followed by a sponge bath to get the salty water off my skin and before too long it was time for making some dinner in the congenial company of a group of fathers and sons who were off to the lighthouse the next day.
For me, the next day meant a long walk out. I was up early as I wanted to get going as soon as possible, because after the walk there was still the drive back to Melbourne. The stretch from Refuge Cove to Sealers Cove was beautiful, in particular the views towards Five Mile Beach on the northern part of Wilsons Prom. It was another spectacular day and every beach looked very inviting. At Sealers Cove I had to take off my socks and boots to wade across the stream and walk a while along the beach, before reaching the boardwalk through the swamp. The boardwalk ambles for almost two kilometres before reaching the path going uphill. About five minutes before the end of the boardwalk, I came across a massive tree that had crashed over the boardwalk and required some interesting gymnastic moves to get over, across and underneath. From there began the steady climb to the appropriately-named Windy Saddle, which took almost two hours. Although it had been a while since I last walked this section, bits of it appeared different and signs soon explained that destructive floods in 2011 had wreaked havoc on the path, with many sections needing to be rebuilt and in some cases rerouted.
Eventually I reach the Windy Saddle and stopped there for a quick lunch. Then it was on again for the last hour, which thankfully was a gentle downhill walk. When I got to the carpark at Telegraph Saddle I still had another downhill walk in front of me to get back to the hikers car park. And although many cars passed me, no one stopped to offer a lift, which was frankly a bit disappointing. Maybe people thought I was happy to walk along the road, but in the heat most people should have been able to figure out that a lift would have been very welcome! I got there eventually, and after 22km for the day, various blisters (the price you pay for forgetting your shoe inserts) I deserved my shower and the ice cream that followed.
The Inner Game of the Outdoors 