Bushwalk Australia

by **naturelover** » Mon 14 Jan, 2013 8:57 pm

“We’re going up the Acropolis this weekend”
“Lucky you. The weather’s looking great, too”
Yes, the forecast was pretty good. Some rain scheduled for Sunday afternoon, but the main action would be over by then. We’d probably be driving home.
It was hot as we packed. I not only planned to walk in undies that double as a costume in case people were around, but also threw in a bikini for Lake St Clair, and a Speedo for good measure, in case it was a little cooler.
We went through our gear.
Gloves? Na, well, better take one pair, but not the usual three.
Don’t bother with spare Helly longs or top. Just the lightweight half-sleeping bag will do.
Sleeping sheet? Yeah, we might get pretty hot and smelly, so that will be needed.

Our plan was to camp up high on the shelf below the cliffs to get great sunset and sunrise photos. Even as we sat impatiently on the ferry listening to the driver and tour guide who said: “There are rainforest trees out there; don’t know their names” to the lucky tourists, the clouds were rolling in. The driver knew I was in a hurry to get started with all we had to do after the boat trip, now running about 45 mins late, so was enjoying dragging the journey out as much as possible to thwart me. He stopped the motor in case we wished to photograph the featureless (in this light) blanket of green.

Finally released, we raced up the track to Pine Valley, and at last embarked on the final stint through the glorious forest to the top. It was a shame to rush through such scenery, but the ferry driver had created our haste by squandering our time in approach. As we gained the shelf, we could hear the wind roar and we became encinctured in mist. The Acropolis was just a hint in the gloom of grey vapour. There would be no sunset tonight. There was no view tonight. It was raining as we pitched tent and cooked our meal. We began to regret the lack of spare gloves and normal bags. I wore almost every item of clothing in my bag to bed, with a spare pair of socks for a pillow. We lay in our cosy tent listening to the thunder of the wind outside and the light patter of rain. Hopefully the morning would bring a pleasant surprise. I love lying in the shelter of a tent and listening to the wild elements raging outside. We slept well.

Morning did not bring a pleasant surprise. Oh well. We didn’t need to get up early to catch the glorious first rays of sun on the surrounding mountains, or gain the summit while the peaks were still silhouettes in the early light. We didn’t bother getting up until nearly 7. Up we went through the mist. My husband doesn’t have reliable use of his hands, so regrettably, when we were only maybe ten minutes from the top, where there was a climb up the slippery rocks that was too challenging for a person with no fine motor control, he chose to stay perched on his ledge while I continued to the top. I called to him from the summit to let him know I was there, but he was too far away to hear that – and perhaps the thick mist swallowed my voice.

Coming down I was quite apprehensive, as the thick mist obscured all visibility, and I was mildly concerned about not finding the correct chimney that would lead me down. I realised that, as Ben could not get up to save me even if he did hear me yell, if I fell on the slippery rocks and broke something, I would be lying there in the rain for a very long time before anyone could help me. I was very cautious in my footing. This was not a time for speed. THANK GOD (or, more correctly, thank you people, whoever you are, that put cairns out there!!!!) for the cairns that appeared now and then in the otherwise featureless environment, and a special thanks for the one with a stick on it. I had paid special attention to it on the way up, and was not going to attempt to go down until I sighted it again. There were two tricky sections on the slippery rock below the summit area on the way up, but fortunately they were fine on the way down. I would be interested to see someone with a beer belly doing one of the tight rock-hugging sections that had a drop below that could severely damage anyone who fell. I am pretty skinny and wanted every centimetre of the room my slender frame provided.

So, we didn’t get sunrise or sunset or a swim (unless you count wading through water on the track), but we did have a fun adventure, and we loved the shining green of the forest, and the atmospheric mantel of mist that may have, indeed, obscured all hint of a view, but lent the rocks a special magic.