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Mersey Crag 2016 Oct

Mersey Crag via the Back Door. October 2016

When planning this trip, I castigated myself: Why hadn’t I climbed Mersey Crag when the road to it was somewhat open, and when I was so very near the summit? On two occasions I had been within cooee of the top, yet had not gone there because I thought access to it would always be easy, so why rush things? Why not savour the moment and do it all by itself sometime? Why not? Because floods would come, ruining approach roads and denying us all any kind of access to the area, possibly for years.

Mersey Crag summit, looking down the Little Fisher Valley

So, now I thought I was doing it the hard way, because it was a very long way in, and I thought I was not doing it the beautiful way, because I do so love the Rinadena Falls. Little did I know. Alright, it was a long way in, but we summitted on the first afternoon, so not too long, and what surprised me most of all was the extreme beauty from the moment we rose above the bushfire marks on the Blue Peaks track.

Mersey Crag summit looking across to Turrana Bluff

We reached the base of Blue Peaks in an hour and a half, but were focussed on our far-flung goal, so resisted the temptation to lose time by going up. We would stay focussed on our ultimate goal for now, and not climbing this first peak would justify another visit to this area that we were already falling in love with from the moment we entered the zone of lush cushion grasses with narrow, pure streams running through. On we continued, not even stopping for a break.

Summit area looking to the Walls. You can see Mt Jerusalem, The Temple, Solomons Throne, King Davids Peak and then, further back, mountains like the Acropolis and Geryon.

The official pad finishes here, but a rough hint of a route around the first two lakes – one followed, we suspected, by many fishermen – continued until we needed to cross the outlet stream separating Little Throne Lake from Grassy Lake. All this time we had no idea of how soggy things were going to be up here, or how many detours we were going to have to make around tarns, or, for that matter, how deep the many, many creek crossings marked on the map were going to be. Here was our first real creek. Hm. Up and down we go, looking for a place to cross. It is mostly wide and deep and flowing quite swiftly. We find a possibility, but it is risky. Will I fall in and get everything wet?

The frozen tarns of our tent site

Being a shocking pessimist in such matters, I opt for a double crossing, first with my pack, and then with my precious camera. Believe it or not, I even took off my jacket and jumper in case I fell in and wet them. Unscathed, we sat on the other side of the river and had lunch. Little Throne was just behind us now. From here on would be genuinely trackless wilderness, pure freedom to choose our direction and path.

Morning glory
We set bearings from our paper maps, but also plotted our course on our gps systems to check our progress, and off we set, around Little Throne, past nameless bumps of great beauty, offering excellent views, and past thousands of tiny tarns, all sparkling in the afternoon light. We just adored it. All further creek crossings and tarn skirtings were problem free, and we were happy with our progress.

On Turrana Heights, we reassessed. I had originally suggested that we go for four hours with the full packs and then summit from there, but I was so happy with my pack on my back I kept pushing for further. Having the packs with us reduced all stress about whether or not we would make it back to where we had dumped them. We have both been quite sick in this last week. Angela was off work with a virus, and I had been to the doctor’s the day before with a combination of bronchitis and asthma. I found it hard to read my body under those conditions, and my pack meant security. If I hit a wall without notice, then everything I needed was right there with me. Angela was fine with this. On we continued until nearly four and a half hours, when we saw an irresistible spot just before the Turrana-Mersey saddle. It was now less than two kilometres to the summit, and only 3.15 in the afternoon. We could set up our tents here, saunter to the top and still be back in the light with no problems. Angela ate lunch part two.

Cresting the summit was very sweet. There are summits and summits, and this was a good one, as we had both held doubts about whether or not we could make it given the amount of water there might be to negotiate, given the distance, and the uncertainty of our health. When you doubt, the victory is felt more keenly. We had time in abundance now we were there and had our tents so close, so enjoyed the top, savouring the extensive view and delighting in all we could see. At a very leisurely pace, we ambled, almost reluctantly, back to our little tents.

We had both been snug and warm overnight, having both elected to use our extra bivvybags. I had actually been a little hot and had stripped down during the night. It is testimony to these bags that we discovered in the morning that our tents were rigid with ice and the world outside our aegises was a sparkling, glittering white one. Enthusiastically I snapped the frozen tarns and sword-like pineapple grass. I had lugged my tripod all this way, but, sadly, was too cold to use it. I told myself sick girls have an excuse.

Back home we go
We swept the ice off our tents with brooms made from the scrub and slowly packed up. The only pressure for the day was our appointment with the Raspberry Farm for celebration cake, and there was no risk of missing that. We deliberately left unfinished business in the area, planning instead the next trip as we bypassed peaks that could wait for next time. What a glorious weekend.
Route data: Day 1, 20.35 kms +702 ms climbed yields 27.3 kilometre equivalents. Total of 7 hours’ walking.
Day 2, 14.55 kms + 410 ms climb gives 18.7 km equivalents. 5 hours’ walking.

Total for two days, 46 km equivalents and 12 hours’ walking (this does not include breaks like lunch or morning tea). OK. We’re allowed to be tired. Here are the maps – rather a lot of them, as we covered rather a lot of territory and it is pretty complex (4 interconnecting screen shots).

From end of track to south of Little Throne (1:100,000)


Continuing SSW over the side hump of Turrana Heights

From the unnamed lump SW of Turrana heights heading towards the Turrana-Mersey saddle. The waypoint marks our tent spot.

Tent to Mersey Crag summit return.

Note, these are “only” 1: 100,000 scale, chosen to give the broad shape of the land without too much detail to confuse.
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XC skiing Central Plateau Mersey Crag 2015 Sep

A day of XC-skiing, on which I tried to reach Mersey Crag, but failed as my shoes fell to bits after 2kms.

Unnamed lake (on my map, anyway) about 2kms from the start 

Turrana Bluff and Mersey Crag from one of our many vantage points

I am so in love with yesterday, and with the opportunities that living in Tasmania provide. While the rest of the normal world went to work, a group of us who are free on Wednesdays, either by default or design (unemployed, partially unemployed, deliberately semiretired or fully retired – some of them early to enable a better lifestyle) went off into the wilderness and had a glorious day skiing or walking in the snow.

Turrana and Mersey again

My gear had had a long rest in my attic. While I was a representative athlete, I was unwilling to ski in the winter, which was my European racing season, just in case I got injured, so the gear just sat. Yesterday I got it out and carted it to the top of the central plateau (about 400 ms vertical climb – not a big deal) and began skiing for the first time in a very, very long time. I felt a bit nervous, but just as I was getting the hang of it again, my shoe fell apart – literally fell to bits. I had to walk in a shoe and a (luckily, woollen) sock back to where we had mounted the plateau and exchanged ski gear for the walking gear I’d worn to get to that point. While the others skied off to the glorious blue and white yonder, I was “stuck” in the snow for a day.

Well, as you know, I adore photography, and had already been lamenting the fact that I was skiing past scenes that I had wanted to represent in my own creative medium. Now I could fill my heart’s desire and snap away at all that beauty. I also had a fantastic workout, as when I was finished snapping, I walked a nice long way, nearly as far as Mersey Crag, some of which was with a “new girl”, Catherine, whose borrowed gear didn’t suit her. She abandoned it and came walking with me. Being up there in those vast domains, surrounded by a world of blue and white was a refreshing, rejuvenating experience. I can’t wait to go back. With fewer setbacks (clearing the road of fallen timber, broken gear and more) I am sure we can get to the top of Mersey Crag and back in a day using that route.

Weather closing in a bit as we all head back to the start
Is this not heaven on earth?
To get to the start, drive past Lake Rowallan, taking the Dublin Rd to the left (as for Rinadena Falls or Turrana Bluff), and then take the second road to the right, Clumner Spur road 2. Follow it for 4.3 kms until the drivable end of the road where there are tapes leading up to the plateau using the Henry Shannon track, named after the conceiver and maker of this route to the top, who skied with us yesterday. If you only have a 2WD, you have maybe 700ms extra to walk, maybe less. I didn’t measure, but I am going up next time in my 2WD as my 4 is out of action at present, and I don’t see this as a great hardship. Just stop before the muddy puddle.
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Rinadena Falls and Little Fisher Valley 2015 Jun

Rinadena Falls and the valley between Mersey Crag and Turrana Bluff – or maybe you’d like to call it the Little Fisher Valley. June 2015.
Progress is not quick when the driver keeps stopping for photos … but who could resist these cows in the dawn light?

If your child says to you: “Hey mum, dad, please take me to fairyland,” please don’t say: “It doesn’t exist.” Instead, pack your lunches and take them to one of Tasmania’s many jewel-secrets, Rinadena Falls. You can all look for goblins, fairies, ents and gnomes while you walk. William Morris or JRR Tolkein would have loved to have set a book there, I am sure, if only they’d been lucky enough to see this place. Magic glades and open forest are what you’ll find there. Gurgling waters can be heard for nearly the whole route. It is pure delight.

 

Some walks are about reaching the summit; others about the views from on high. Yesterday’s walk was more about just being out there on a beautiful, sunny (but freezing) day, and about getting in a nice long walk to help “fitten” my husband up for Europe. I wanted him to be walking for five hours (not counting breaks). This route took 4 hours 50.

Having not yet climbed Mersey Crag, my thoughts wandered in that direction, even after I’d learned that an extra two hours now had to be added to the time taken as a bridge was down. Last visit to the area, we had taken 4 hrs 45 walking time to climb Turrana Bluff, so this meant we would be looking at about 6 hrs 45 walking plus photo and food stops. Hm. Well, why not just go to that beautiful valley at the top with its marvellous pools that appear from nowhere and equally quickly disappear, that are waist deep yet one step wide? I love those pools. Even yesterday, in sub-zero temperatures, they begged me to have a dip.

Had we started at first light, we could have done the whole trip to the summit, but that would have involved being at the start line shortly after sunrise, and I was in need of a “sleep in”. We didn’t leave home until 7 a.m., and didn’t park at the closed bridge until 10. No time to summit, but plenty of time for what I now had in mind – the valley described above. I was also looking forward to seeing the wonderful Rinadena Falls again.

We allowed an hour for the first part of this journey, which we had driven last time. One blog, by a strong walker, had said 50 minutes, so an hour seemed realistic. I was delighted with my husband’s progress when he hit the old car park at 42 mins despite his Parkinson’s disease. He, too, felt chuffed, as last week he had been rebuffed from a club walk because he was “too slow”. He had been judged by the name of his disease and not his actuality. Having a good split here today helped him to reclaim something for himself.

I expected that road to be boring – some kind of medicine to be taken to enable other activity. This was far from the case. We loved it. Moss grew down the centre, complemented by the lightly tanned dirt to each side. Tiny myrtle leaves overhead framed a tunnel through which we progressed. Gurgling streamlets bubbled their way past us, chuckling as they continued to travel downhill and join the Little Fisher River below. Fallen trees indicated that even if you got your car magically past the bridge declared uncrossable, you would not get more than a short distance along this road that was fast giving itself back to the forest from whence it had come. Frozen fungi laced the scenery.

We crossed the bridge at the end of the former carpark, proceeded 8 more minutes to a cairn, and then swung left to follow a pad with pink ribbons through the lush forest. The tape was helpful, as fallen timber sometimes obscured where the path should lie – but don’t worry. This is still a very family-friendly route. I plan on taking infant Guss there at Christmas to enjoy this enchanted forest and to paddle in the Little Fisher River.

Rinadena Falls were as perfect as ever, so we took a longish photography break here. Half the falls were frozen, augmenting the beauty already there.

The broad valley at the top, framed by Turrana Bluff, lightly clad in white powder to our left and Mersey Crag to the right, was all that I had hoped for when planning this day. Frozen tarns giving white foreground interest, rich colours, crisp outlines provided by the sharp air. All was wonderful. We meandered our way along between the pools of water and ice until my watch indicated it was time to turn around. Mersey Crag was so tantalisingly close, I felt very tempted to ask Bruce to wait while I dashed up, but it was too cold for waiting, and such an impetuous dash would have meant we did the last road bit in the dark. The wicked tempting feelings said: “Who needs light for a road anyway?” Well, we didn’t need light, but it was sure nice not to have to hurry to try to “beat” it, and when we did get to the road, it was very handy to be able to see which patches of ice were more dangerous than the other bits. Our hands, even in the hour before sunset, were frozen to the point of pain. The mountain iced back over as we walked.

 It was also very helpful to get some driving in before it got dark. I reached the bitumen before visibility vanished, which, in those conditions, pleased me greatly. We had had a perfect day, so decided to round it off by treating ourselves to a light but delicious (and inexpensive) meal at the Pepperberry Cafe in Mole Creek. I loved the fact that the other family dining in this attractively set-out restaurant were also clad in the Tassie bushwalkers’ uniform: shorts over thermal longs, thick socks and boots. I was dying to ask them what adventure they had had that day. It was sure to have been a good one.
To reach Rinadena Falls, go past Mole Creek, heading for Lake Rowallan .. After you’ve driven over the little bridge below the dam wall, drive along with the dam on your right for about 3kms, until you see the Dublin Rd turnoff to the left. Take it. Your next turn will be to the right, along Little Fisher Rd. it is the third turn to the right (the first is Clumner Rd, and the second is to a spur). Drive along this road until you reach the pile up of dirt that announces that you are not to drive over the bridge ahead. Park, and walk over the bridge, continuing as with the Little Fisher River to your right, as described above. You will, of course, need a map: Mersey 1:100,000 or Pillans 1:25,000.