Mt Wedge | Natureloverswalks

May 26, 2022May 26, 2022

Wedge 2022

It was not actually our original intention to climb Mt Wedge this weekend. We were here for the long-awaited ascent of Mt Field West, a climb that is now assuming saga proportions. I announced last December that I wanted to climb Field West with young Gus. It would be a long day for him, so I thought we’d need to camp down by the river at the base to avoid driving from Hobart to add to the day’s length. But that long summer holiday period got filled with a large number of tennis camps and suddenly it was time to resume the new school year. Sometime or other it would happen, and now my daughter wanted to come too.

Then she said we could all (five of us) stay at a cottage near the park as part of my birthday celebrations, and do Field West on one of the days. I phoned to make the booking. Full on my birthday. Full the weekend after. Full, actually, until after Anzac day. But then there was the problem of the school cross country race: he would be tired after doing Field West, so again the date got pushed back.

Tra la. It was to be last weekend, the one after the school XC. Trouble is, on the day the race should have taken place, at recess, Gus broke his arm, and was then in plaster from shoulder to finger tips. There was to be no race, and also, no Field West. He could not cross the icy, jagged rocks of the Rodway Range with a newly broken arm. We would need to settle for something less taxing. Mt Wedge was not too far away, and was definitely an easier climb, which wouldn’t involve him using his plastered arm. Wedge it was.

The last time I climbed Wedge was 2014. In the eight years since then, I have forgotten how absolutely beautiful the forest was. It was especially wonderful last weekend as there were more fungi than twigs decorating the forest floor. Everywhere you looked there were more, mostly in clusters. I wanted to have lunch on the summit, and we had not set out particularly early, so I disciplined myself to only take maybe five fungi photos on the way up.

A special treat was in store for us when we burst out of the forest: we were already above the clouds. Gussy has never been up above the clouds like that before, and was suitably excited. Below, the valley was shrouded in mist, but up here, the sky was blue and the sun was shining. We could see the high peaks like Field West or Mt Anne poking as indigo and white silhouettes above, and the rest was a sea of pure white cotton wool below us, with occasional fog bows.

It was even mild … or maybe we were just warm from the climb; there was no wind at all. The ground was a little damp, but we sat on rocks and used the heli pad as a table on which to spread out our goodies. We were even joined by a couple who had moved to Tassie from Melbourne in the last year, up there with their baby who toddled about the pad. It was a fun picnic.

There was no rush on the way down – quite the opposite, as Gus needed to take especial care of his arm going downhill. That gave me time to photograph a few more fungi. I think that makes it eleven Abels for him, aged ten.
And maybe one day we’ll get to do Mt Field West.

August 24, 2014July 29, 2018

Wedge 2014 Aug

Mt Wedge

I am amazed at the number of times I have climbed a mountain and gazed across to a cloud-covered giant near the waters of Lakes Gordon and Pedder and had a friend identify the leviathan as Mt Wedge. It seems to loom large in the vistas from an unlikely number of places and directions – almost as often as Frenchman’s Cap – and has an uncanny knack of turning up to every party, even when least expected. Whether you are on the Western Arthurs, the Mt Anne group, the Sentinels, Snowy Range, Denison Range, on Clear Hill, Frenchman’s Cap, or Wylds Crag, Mt Field West or Mt Mueller (the list goes on), there it is.

So, why have I waited so long to make its acquaintance, and why choose precisely this weekend to end the drought? I guess part of that was the knowledge that it has a track up it, and is therefor a mountain that can be done at any old time, and solo or in company; there was no rush. When other, less-hospitable mountains appeared on an agenda, it seemed more sensible to do them as the opportunity presented itself. But this weekend there was nothing else calling, and I have been sick in bed all week, so it seemed a perfect time to do a mountain that has a track. (Tracks are much less demanding than making your own way through ‘scrubbery’). The day packs from last week’s failed attempt at getting out of the house still littered the bedroom floor. No packing was needed – just a bit more health than last week. I was no longer running a temperature. Let’s go.

Unfortunately we had a flat battery and required the services of RACT before we could get started, killing a precious hour, but at last at 11 o’clock we were in the carpark and ready for our mountain. The sign said 5 hrs return, so even if we took the time it said, we still had enough light. Ideally we’d be faster than that and would get a decent chunk of the long drive home in the light. The early section of the walk is through myrtle forest with lots of lush moss and brown humus – not as green as some forests, but refreshing nonetheless. One goes through a sort of nature trail for a very short way and hangs a left where indicated by a sign to eventually go along a road for a couple of minutes, from which another sign points right, to the top, and the real climb begins. We took 11 mins to negotiate that kind of “pre-start” area.

The real climb is good and steep. After 36 mins (for us) the forest type changed from being predominantly mixed myrtle to a congeries of melaleuca and rather skinny pandanis. That pleasant band only lasted 12 mins, so that after 48 mins of climbing from the road, we emerged out of the forest into very low scrub, and our first close-up view of some dolerite columns that marked the cap of the mountain we were climbing. We also got our first – very exciting – view of water below and of our surrounding mountains. It looked as if the summit was just perched there above the mini organ pipes, but it took me another 21 minutes to actually touch the trig from there. Bruce was tired by that stage, and it took him about double that. I realised as I gave way to the irresistible pull of the summit that although I adore being on mountains for the view and the sense of infinitude from the top, I also love the act of climbing, even on a day like today when I have been sick and am not able to push my absolute limits. I am still able to push my own available limits of that day, and even that is pleasurable.

We descended a bit from the windy summit to perch on a rock and enjoy our lunch gazing out at the lakes far below us, and the shapely Sentinels which I adore, before a descent that was the same speed as our ascent, afternoon tea at one of our favourite little cafes in the world, viz. the Possum Shed at Westerway, with brilliant coffee and luscious cakes, and on to Launceston where we arrived in time for dinner. A goodly day.