Mt Kosciuszko - an adventure
Oh, how I loathe chairlifts! Forty years back (don't start guessing my age), I was terrified to look down, even from the comfort of my mum's tight reliable hold, while seated in one of India's oldest chairlifts at Rajgir. None of the renowned ruins of Nalanda or Buddha's stupas from that trip made it through the years of my memories except for a black slipper that might have slipped off from some scaredy mouse's wavering feet in the trench, way below the ropeway. Lesson learnt - I gave a wide berth to any rides, except a few unmissable occasional ones, once a decade, like Space Mountain at Disney Theme Park and a small roller coaster 🎢 ride at Gold Coast Theme Park.
Enough dust settled on that memory to allay my fears and to prompt me to believe I was more courageous, ropeway must be a lot of fun now. I defied my younger self's trepidation and hopped onto the chairlift across Cataract Gorge at Launceston, Tasmania, just a couple of weeks back, camera readied for video recording of the South Esk River beneath, bubbling and vivacious out of First Basin on its way to Tamar River. But as soon as the ground started receding, I heard myself, 'okay, I thought this'd be enjoyable, but it feels quite scary.' Camera off, minimal guards of the chair tightly clutched, and eyes shut, I was on the verge of tears. Oh God, somehow, take me to the other end, I'll never ever repeat this mistake. Before my prayer ended, I felt air weaving through a slew of my hair, heard the rushing of the stream bringing life to the dour of the gorge, and the dangling chair wavering at one of the nodes - I assumed I was gaining a height of 8849 m above sea level. My prayers intensified, I was petrified, and if my phone were a living thing - crush-e-fied. Had I opened my eyes, I probably would've realised I wasn't as high up there as I was imagining. But if I opened them, I don't know, I could've been a nincompoop and jumped out of fear (I did just that from the pillion of a racing bicycle in similar state of mind decades back; but this was a different game). In short, I was between a rock and a hard place. Upon landing safely, I thanked God to give a new start to this precious life, thanked myself for the grit in bringing back my phone, and vowed not to embark upon any such nerve numbing rides. My spouse wasn't far. While I believed I was braver, he took the ride accepting and acknowledging his acrophobia, and agreed to be accompanied by our son who apparently provided the necessary moral support. It was his idea of shutting the eyes that I borrowed from the discussions that ensued from his consternation right before the ride.
The end of chairlifts, right? Wrong! Why would I essay this anecdote if it were the end?
A week later, I bumped upon a colleague who waxed eloquent about the beauty of Mt Kosciuszko and Thredbo area. Wide-eyed, I listened and urged my spouse to dig a bit for more information. Boy, we were stumped to discover that a long and expensive chairlift, which we both detest, takes aspiring hikers to Eagles Nest, Australia's highest restaurant. It marks the start of a 13 Km return (4 to 6 hours return) grade 3 walk, to Mt Kosciuszko, the highest peak of Australia sitting at 2228 m above sea level on The Great Dividing Range. It's one of the Seven Summits, and easiest too.
Taken aback at our colleague's feat (for not many we know of hike or trek), we confirmed with him the following day, 'Did you do all of these?'
The college blurted, 'Why would we? Explore the lower trails near car park. That's good enough to give the feel of the place.'
'Now what?' My spouse and I were about to abandon the idea of another hike only days after the treacherous Mt Hauy walk at Tasmania compounded with life-threatening chairlift - only for us for I saw others casually chit-chatting to their partners and swaying their feet when I squinted to check how far I was from the end of ropeway at Launceston. But our 16-year old, blood boiling with adventure, wouldn't let us.
Fast forward a few days, history repeated itself. We started for Thredbo via Canberra and Jindabyne on 26th Jan - Australia Day long weekend. Brushing off the promises made to God, we hopped on to yet another chairlift, Mt Kosciuszko Express Chairlift, on 27th Jan early morning, around 9 am. Railings of the chair tightly clenched, eyes shut, two stupefied souls on either side of a teenager, oblivious to any fear, started off for Eagles Nest. The only difference this time - phone was safely tucked away in backpack, and the chairs were commodious enough to accommodate three of us - we were in the game together.
Hiking to the top of Mt Kosciuszko was by then on our cards. No matter how much our heart pounded, we endured and survived. Fortunately, way up wasn't that scary since the ground was closer than we expected, there was a rod for foot-rest, and the thrill/ anticipation of hiking to the summit was high - chairlift's spine tingling chills couldn't dwarf our appetite for a dash of expedition. Here's what the trailhead looks like.
Eagles Nest was the point where we had to leave our comfort behind. The 13 Km return walk from here, was strenuous yet rewarding as any hike is. A metallic meshed path, Kosciuszko Walk on Google Maps, meandered through alpine landscape and lakes, bridged over rivers and marshes, and constantly ascended to lead us to the Summit Walk, about 1 hour 15 minutes from trailhead at Eagles Nest. We stopped by at the Kosciuszko Lookout, Lake Cootapatamba Lookout, and the lookout that marked Australia's highest toilets to photograph the unique flora and fauna (read ravens only) of the region. Another gruelling 45 minutes hike on rough gravelly path with little sections properly paved, lead us to the summit. By then every breath was a grunt and the chilly wind was cutting through whatever part of face was exposed. We queued up for photo session at the trig marker of the summit. Several coveted clicks later we joined the hoard of hikers sitting around for snack break to have waffle, banana, chips, and water. There wasn't much about the peak itself - it wasn't anything unseen before, except for the feeling of achievement to have assaulted Mt Kosciuszko that we were steeped in.
Return journey was surprisingly quicker. In 1.5 hours we were back to Eagles Nest, albeit tuckered out to the core. Fatigue outweighed all the worries around the chairlift journey back. We even spotted our 3 white towels we left for drying (unlike in the US, air drying is permitted in Australia as long as they are at or below the parapet level) in the balcony of our acco at Kasees in the little settlement of Thredbo.
Once at the base station of the ropeway, instead of relenting to the hunger, we quickly completed the more comfortable Merrits Gandola ride. Time for a sumptuous lunch - we gorged delectable decadence of pizza, coke, coffee. Hunger from 13 Km walk hardly differentiates between indulgence and indispensable; lunch tasted out of the world inspite of my aversion to pizza and coffee. But, must admit, these locally baked pizzas taste more authentic and much better than the established food chains offer.
Legs were lead - yet a staggering 127 steps to Kasees was unavoidable. Each of us ran a warm bath and hit the hay to refresh and rejuvenate.
The following day we started early and stopped by at Jindabyne, Cooma, Canberra, and Goulburn, to round up our short adventurous stint. Just as expected - legs were jelly, every drop of energy drained, but an item that unexpectedly popped up in our bucket list (courtesy that colleague's wax eloquence on Mt Kosciuszko) struck through!
Dona, Sydney, January 2024
Peripheral stories:
Sydney was sizzling at 40°C. Drop of mercury to 16° at Thredbo was welcoming. We were surprised we donned all the jackets, gloves, beanies we carried only to be on safe side at the peak of summer.
Roos hopping in the backyard and view from Kasses added an antique charm to our stay.
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