The sun was showing us its best side, a light breeze kept us comfortable, and a steady, near level track lay ahead, meandering gently through picturesque grasslands framed by ghostly-white tree trunks. For the first time in several days I did not have to pay much attention to every step – I had time to reflect on the last two days of the combined 5days/4nights Bryce’s Gorge / Mt Howitt excursion that Graham had organised.
Two days earlier, after a leisurely Tuesday morning breakfast, we had said ‘good bye’ to our fellow campers Elizabeth, Robyn, Bill, Dale and Ian, and departed from our lovely base at Bryce’s Gorge (1445m). Our activities there had included pleasant campfire evenings, the circuit walk via Pieman and Conglomerate Falls and return via Guy’s Hut as well as quick visits to lookouts at Dimmick’s (1523m, views northwards) and the Quarry Track radio tower (1640m, views southwards).
Starting at the Howitt Trailhead Parking Area (1606m) later that Tuesday we had then traversed the water-logged tussock prairies (squish squash, squish squash) en route to the Macalister Springs camping area and the Vallejo Gantner Hut (1658m). Water supply, it was clear, would not be a problem this time around – so why, oh why, did I insist on carrying more than four litres? The last time I had been here (see trip report ‘Macalister Springs & Beyond’ 28Feb2023) it had been markedly drier, with the springs a mere trickle, and we had even searched for water on the slopes below the Mt Howitt summit. This time around, we were greeted by the most amazing display of multi-coloured wildflowers -- all the way up, well beyond the tree line. Plenty of rain during the previous week and subsequent sunshine had caused an explosion of blossoms.
Just before the Vallejo Gantner hut, where we set up our tents for two nights and were thus able the next day to leave behind our full-size backpacks, we met a completely disoriented father-and-son team. These two city-dwellers, first-time campers on an "I will show you how it’s done, son" multi-day walk, had managed to walk out of their first camp in the wrong direction (i.e. the way they had come in). The father insisted that, yes, absolutely, they were on their way to Mt Howitt when, in fact, they were walking away from it! It took me a while to convince this gentleman, with the aid of his own mobile phone and GPS-map, that they were merely retracing their own steps of the previous day. Perhaps it is a good idea to learn how to use one’s gadgets?
That father-and-son team provided further “entertainment” and conversation topics to Graham and me over the next two days, along with a group of riders that treated their horses in, what I believe to be, disgraceful fashion. Some people apparently think it acceptable not to unburden packhorses for an hour, ignore their limp, hobble them in rocky uneven terrain, and leave the bridle in their horse’s mouth while getting a fire going and making themselves a nice cup of coffee. Being dressed up fashionable cowgirl style, with spurs that would draw blood from a knight in chainmail, seems to be part of that mindset.
Graham and I went to bed early on both nights: No campfires are allowed at this site and in the hut itself only in an emergency (clearly, coffee for cowboys and fashionable cowgirls qualifies as just such an emergency….). The first night, still and perhaps 2degC at the lowest, ended with a lot of morning dew and super-clear views over valleys filled with low-lying clouds. Mt Howitt, here we come!
Not being dependent on a mobile phone and GPS-map, and leaving our campsite in the correct direction proved to be a useful approach.... (Not all folk that have lived in big cities most of their lives are disoriented and clueless. Just sayin’). We left the treed elevations after a while and started the steady ascent to the summit (1730m), making a short detour to waterholes filled with clear, cold H2O near the rock cairn below it. The air was equally clear and fresh, providing amazing 360 degree long-distance views over the alpine ranges and ‘just across’ to Mt Buller. It nearly seemed as if we could watch the latte-sipping tourists at Mt Buller Chalet Hotel & Suites.
We then descended towards the track intersection for the Crosscut Saw (1706m and various other, similar elevations) but decided to ‘bush-bash’ a shortcut to the first saddle on the Saw, parallel to the ridge line and through crotch-deep scrubs and rock hugging herbs. That trackless shortcut turned out to be on a somewhat steeper incline than first apparent but, hey, Graham and I have been in much, much trickier terrain!
Just when we were beginning to feel smug upon reaching the saddle, we met a solo-hiking lady who had walked the Australian Alpine Walking Track (AAWT) all the way from Canberra, followed in quick succession by a young fella from Traralgon who was on the same mission. That’s only due to their younger legs, we concluded, wisely nodding our heads and proceeding on our leisurely stroll along the Crosscut Saw. To be fair, the day invited a leisurely pace. Never have I seen so many wildflower colours and shapes, never have I enjoyed ‘just slowly strolling along’ in the high-country-sunshine-and-fresh-breeze as much as this day. We took our time having lunch in the shade of some gnarled snow gums, resisted the temptation of a nanna-nap among the wildflowers, and made our way back to the camp (this time, minus the ‘shortcut’).
The second night, with a light wind and subjectively judged by both Graham and I to have been about 2-3degC warmer than the first, saw us getting up to another leisurely breakfast, relaxed packing up of tents, sleeping bags, mats and assembled paraphernalia, and the easy, mostly downhill walk back to the Mt Howitt Trailhead Carpark. Thank you for all the driving, Graham, and for taking me along. Squish squash, squish squash, squish squash....
Frithjof
