Cleve Cole Hut to Mt Bogong, Victoria. 20th February 2011

Heading through the clouds to Mount Bogong...

The night spent at Cleve Cole Hut was quite relaxing as the bed area comes complete with mattresses. I can't say I've seen that too often in huts in the past. I made a conscious effort not to snore in front of 27 people in the hut by constructing a pillow that left my head almost vertical. In fact I was so vertical it felt like I was sitting in a chair. I think it worked okay though, as no one attacked me in the middle of the night. Then again I wasn't snoring, mainly because I spent most of the night awake worrying about making any noise whatsoever. As a result, when the morning came I was knackered having had no sleep! Oh well, that's the way it goes.

There was a full moon over the hut which made the surrounding landscape look fantastic. The sky was quite clear which was a good sign that we would actually have a view when we reached the top of Mt Bogong. The added bonus was that my Panasonic Lumix TZ-10 camera had successfully dried out. Taking out the battery and memory card the night before did wonders, as it powered up as normal in the morning. At least I have some photos to stick on the blog, instead of crapping on the whole time!

A magnificent self-portrait in the morning outside Cleve Cole Hut...

MK came through with the breakfast, having lugged a box of eggs and bacon to the hut. It didn't seem to go down too well with the other clan who appeared to be eating slops. Never mind, they set off before us and we had a chance to inhale our breakfast in peace. The plan for the day was quite simple. Walk to the top of Mt Bogong and then return to the circus tent via the Staircase Spur. This is the more popular track that people use to climb and it suited me to return on it. Having climbed the Eskdale Spur, it was nice to be walking on something that I hadn't been on before, instead of returning on the Eskdale.

We did find out that the clan in the hut we shared with were the people we heard on the first night trying to re-start their car a million times. They had walked up the Staircase Spur in the dark as far as the Bivouac Hut which sits half-way up the Staircase. Walking in the dark is not my idea of fun whilst hiking, as I do like a view. It did mean they had a shorter day walking after that though, so I guess it can work.

Whilst the day was rain free, the wind was picking up and plenty of clouds were whizzing over our heads. We packed up leisurely and hit the track after 9 am. Cleve Cole Hut sits at 1780 metres, so we had to climb again back to about 1900 metres before the path levelled out. It remains this way until the final climb up to Mt Bogong. 

The hut sits quite protected from the wind which we found out as we got a little higher. The wind was ripping across us and at times it would cause me to stumble. I was doing it better than the others though as I'm built like a boat anchor. The other two, who are lean, were bouncing around everywhere from the sudden gusts of wind. Talking had to be done by shouting and I took off everything that might lift off at any minute. The pack cover went into the pocket along with my beanie. It was the sort of wind that the Bureau of Meteorology would normally issue a toupée alert for, so one could be on the look out for rogue rugs. The clan from the Hut did tell us to look out for the sign that says 'Rocking Stone Saddle' on the way, and to walk a short distance from the sign to check out the 'rocking stone'.

Rocking Stone Saddle

The stone in the middle 'rocks' backwards and forwards...

Well, after checking out that bizarre highlight we strolled along with temporary glimpses of Mt Bogong along the way. For a few seconds the clouds would lift and we could spot the large summit cairn which was our destination. It was touch and go though regarding a view as there were more obscured moments than clear ones. It's hard to show what the wind was like, as most of the photos appear as if it was a fine, sunny day. That's a little deceptive but the clearer skies did give me a chance to take in a bit of the surrounding hills.

Umm.. Mt Bogong is in that cloud...

It wasn't long before we reached our favourite spot of 'Hell Gap' and once again the wind was howling and the clouds enveloped us. Being a novice to Mt Bogong I had no real sense of how far it was to go to the summit. We made a decision that when we came across the Staircase Spur track which would be our descent, we would drop our packs so we could continue to the summit cairn. We reached the top of the Eskdale Spur where we had ascended the previous day and I knew the Staircase Spur was not much further on. Sure enough, we came across the signpost and dropped our packs. It was quite a relief to get the pack off and find how easy this walking caper can be without a load!

Dropping packs in the clouds...

Up to the summit we headed, and it was a complete surprise for all of us to suddenly see the huge rock cairn loom up a short distance away. I had no idea the summit was so close to the Staircase Spur and it was almost pointless dropping the packs. In some way it was an anti-climax, but at least we were there. Pity about the view though as the cloud had set in and no matter how long we waited it wasn't going to lift.

The huge Mount Bogong summit cairn...

I was impressed by the accuracy of my Garmin GPS. Mt Bogong is listed as 1986 metres high and my GPS was telling me I was at 1985 metres which is accurate enough for me. I ambled around the top of the very large summit and really we could have been anywhere judging by the view. I did feel like I had to come back to explore a bit more in the future though. There are plenty of tracks leading off the mountain which might be interesting to come back to. Well, there wasn't much else to do other than check out the current 2011 IKEA catalogue. I still need a new sofa and I'm kind of warming to the Karlstad three-seater in 'Isunda grey' for $938.

Under $1000 for a three seater is not too bad I think...

Well, after thinking about my shopping it was time to go down. It should be plain sailing as it was now downhill all the way. Whilst stopping to put our packs back on, the first of what I assume were day-trippers started arriving. In dribs and drabs they came past, puffing a 'hello' as they went. Quite a few were dressed in runners and carrying minimal gear. I'm a certified alpine panic merchant, in that I have everything I need in case there's a problem. Seeing people climb up into the clouds wearing t-shirts and carrying no gear at all is not something I'd be comfortable with. It also wouldn't appeal to me to climb Mt Bogong on the Staircase Spur, hang around for a little while and then power back down the same way. I do have a proven history of not wanting to retrace my steps!

Then appearing out of the mist was a candidate for the 'minimal gear for an alpine walk' competition. By the way, I'm keeping this competition realistic. I'm sure a few people have summitted Mt Bogong in the nude before. If not, then I might give it a crack next time, although only in the warmer months.  It's snow bound in winter, and I don't think it's worth having a frozen 'angle of the dangle' for the sake of a bit of blog comedy. Anyway, the minimal gear candidate was a girl who climbed past in the world's shortest denim shorts. So short and so fitting, that they really could be described as hot-pants modelled on a postage stamp. She was also decked out in a t-shirt and a pair of slip-on style runners. Although obviously fit, she was pushing the limits of 'acceptable alpine wear' I think! After retrieving my eyeballs which had popped out of their sockets, I continued down in the clouds. A short distance further the 'Gadsden Memorial' loomed out of the mist. This was erected in memory of three skiers who died here in a blizzard in 1943.

Gadsden Memorial on the Staircase Spur...

It's an eerie spot in the clouds, and it's not helped by a constant hum and whine of the wind hitting the steel snow-poles along the way. The sound of these poles can really carry, and if one doesn't work out what's causing it, all sorts of things may happen. Probably the first thing would be the fastest descent of the Staircase Spur in history, whilst screaming and with the arms in the roller-coaster position. These poles are being replaced though by timber ones, the main reason being to stop hikers crapping their pants.

A whining metal snow pole... 

The path is steep in sections and it wasn't long before groups of trees would begin to reappear. Mountains have such a unique look about them which is so alien to what I would normally see day to day. It's a pity most of the alpine areas are a solid drive from Melbourne, otherwise I'd be walking them every weekend.

  

The changing landscape whilst descending...

We had decided to stop for lunch at the Bivouac Hut which sits at 1420 metres. As we approached it we were suddenly overtaken by the clan we had shared Cleve Cole Hut with the night before. They were motoring down the spur, but there was a little piece of wisdom that was passed on to me. I was still wearing my raincoat that was handy on the summit, but was now a little annoying as the temperature was rising. I was sweating a bit, but knowing the hut was close I intended to disrobe when we stopped for lunch. "Why are you wearing your coat?" I was asked. "You should have taken it off earlier". I guess I could have, but I wasn't complaining about it, so I'm not sure what the problem was?! I must look like a bloke who has never left his house before as I seem to get opinion overload!

Well, literally after being told to take my coat off we walked around a corner and Bivouac Hut was there. Time for lunch in a nice bush setting. It's a nice looking hut and I'd love to show you, but I forgot to take any photos of it! I guess I was too interested in filling my guts with food so I forgot my photographic duties.

Traditional Australian bush. Getting lower on the Staircase Spur...

Lunch was handy and now the final section down consisted of forest that was very humid. It was hard to believe it was the same day that we had experienced an hour of so earlier. On top of Mt Bogong the wind was blowing, it was cool and there was no semblance of sunshine. Further down though the sun was blazing and I could feel the temperature rise as I gradually got lower and lower.

The others had raced ahead and I had the track to myself. I was casually strolling down bracing each step with my walking poles, when at the last moment I saw a snake on the track in front of me. I was close to stepping on him, and in avoidance I adopted the position of both feet off the ground whilst going backwards at the same time. It was a freakish form of levitation which David Blaine would be proud of, and it was a close call as the black snake slowly slithered away.

I must have been the unlucky one as a short time later I came across an even larger brown coloured snake lying in the middle of the path. I really need to do a snake identification course I think, as my descriptions are lacking a bit! Following my levitation moment, I was on the lookout and I spotted the latest one with plenty of time to spare. A bit of stomping around and he took off into the bush. 

The Staircase Spur does seem to go on forever. I was over the walk at this stage as my still wet feet from the previous day were starting to grizzle a little. I could feel a blister forming on my big toe which is something I normally never get. Wet socks and downhill walking were pushing my toes right into the front of the boots though. I hadn't reached hobble stage, but I was glad when I finally emerged from the bush back onto the path alongside Mountain Creek. A bit of flat ground does wonders for my feet. It was now a casual half hour stroll back to the circus tent. It certainly was a different scene with the sun out compared to the previous day. There was still a bit of water about on the path but nothing too troublesome.

Mountain Creek Road was still a little damp...

After some casual walking the parked cars started appearing ahead and the hike was officially over. We'd arrived back at the car park and as an added bonus the circus tent was still set up. It was good thinking by MK, as the warm day in the valley had dried it out from the previous days soaking.

It was a relief to peel the boots from my feet whilst being entertained by the Cleve Cole Hut clan trying to get their car going. Yes, we had run into them again! They eventually fired it up and powered away. We now had our own fun of the 350 km drive back to Melbourne.

It was a great hike in which the weather gave us a memorably epic trip. The GPS was telling me in the two days, we had walked 30.38 kms and the total elevation climbed was 1670 metres. I've uploaded these stats onto Garmin Connect and the final days summary is available from there.

  

I will have to conclude with a screen shot of the Falls Creek weather from the Bureau of Meteorology during our wet Saturday. It's interesting to see how much rain was falling per hour. It certainly felt like more at the time...

Weather for the climb...

By the way, I've just finished writing this and it's way too late for me. That's my disclaimer if there are a stack of grammar errors! I will correct this page tomorrow when I have a fresh brain instead of the blancmange feeling one that I have now...

Mt Bogong via the Eskdale Spur, Victoria. 19th February 2011

Wet and wild on the Eskdale Spur

It was a successful drive to the Mountain Creek picnic and camp area near the town of Tawonga which is 350 odd kilometres from Melbourne. It's a long haul after work on a Friday and we arrived in the dark. It was hot and humid, but rain was in the air as we went to bed hoping to get a good sleep. MK set up what seemed like a circus tent due to its seriously big size.  This was acceptable though as it was classified as 'base camp'. We settled down to sleep but there was the odd interruption in the night. At first, one bloke arrived on his own in an old Ute and after rustling around set off towards the nearby creek. I assumed he was disposing of a body. Then another group turned up stalling their car in the process. After a billion attempts at turning over the ignition, they abandoned the car and set off into the dark with backpacks on. Base camp was getting a little weird at this stage. It poured rain all night, and in celebration I began to snore. Not just any snoring though, as I sounded like a Sasquatch who had just been pinned down by a Stepover Toehold. The roaring noise from my gob all night didn't go down well with my walking friends. I guess they wanted a good night's sleep before a hard day's hiking? Something like that anyway...

Mountain Creek was running well...

The weather had not improved in the morning and we were resigned to having a wet day ahead of us. It was decided that the circus tent should remain set up.  It was base camp after all, which means tents can stay up, right? We were hoping that it wouldn't get stolen by any filthy animals whilst we were out walking.  MK also didn't want to pack a soaking wet tent into the car which is fair enough. We also found the bloke from the Ute who we thought was disposing of a few bodies the previous evening.  He was a solo walker in his 50s who was sporting the ubiquitous '50 year old walker beard look' and he was setting off on his own for five days. He was fit and friendly and I felt a bit sorry for picking him as a serial killer during the night.

The start of the walk was at an altitude of 588 metres and our target was Mt Bogong which is 1986 metres. This meant a fair bit of climbing to do in heavy rain that had set in. There's an initial stretch of about six kilometres walking alongside Mountain Creek before the Eskdale Spur is reached.

The fun and games started almost immediately, as the heavy rain had created rushing torrents of water across the track in numerous spots. The others had sandals, so they ditched the boots to cross these water spots. That's a great idea which I would have done myself, except I had left my sandals in the car at the campsite. Okay, this is another occasion where I have what I need, but the object is sitting safely in the boot of a car. We adopted the safety first approach of each water crossing by facing upstream and shuffling across sideways. It seemed to work okay although I was disappointed to have boots full of water within the first hour of walking. I had no spare socks (saving carrying weight, see?) so I was in for a weekend of soaking feet. Hopefully I would make it back before trench foot set in. 

The track was damp in places...

At this stage I think sandals would have been a good idea...

I was the designated photographer as the others didn't have cameras, so I was under pressure to record the events of the day, but I was a bit blasé with my Canon 7D and Panasonic Lumix TZ-10. The Canon, which is 'weatherproof', decided it wasn't 'waterproof' and soon died. In fact I thought there was a problem when I saw that water was inside the battery compartment.  Canon 7D + Water = Dead. The compact Lumix was the last resort now and I gave up trying to keep the lens dry. All the photos of the trip were taken on this camera and to hell with trying to fix them up in Adobe Lightroom. They're wet and that's it!

We had our first snake sighting fairly early on. A small black snake was in the middle of the path, but he appeared to be showing off a little as he was upside down. A closer inspection revealed him to be dead.  I'm not sure what he had died of, but it may have been drowning. It was whilst chuckling about the upside down stunt snake that I spotted another one. This time this one was breathing, but I have no idea what sort of snake it was. A long black one? Is that a description?

It's an out of focus snake...

On we walked on a constant gradual incline. By the time we reached Eskdale Spur at 1120 metres elevation I was puffing like an old locomotive. It's at this stage the walking really begins as the track disappears straight up into the forest. Visibility was minimal due to low cloud and rain and in some way that's a good thing. It's not nice seeing how far one has to climb!  The others set a solid pace and I was left trudging at the back on my own. It was quite eerie as the wind had picked up and trees were being blown around. At one stage I heard the distinct sound of a loud 'crack' and then an almighty 'crump' in the forest as a tree came down somewhere. It was disconcerting, although there was a bonus in that it didn't land on my bonce.

Bleak, wet and windy on the Eskdale Spur...

We agreed to meet for a lunch stop at the new Michell Hut, which had been rebuilt since the previous one had burned down in the big Alpine fires of 2003. The hut is at 1620 metres and I was constantly checking the GPS as the metres ticked off. I stopped by a small stream at 1340 metres to refill my water bottle. As I was doing so I caught sight of what appeared to be a slug on the side of my hand. On closer inspection I observed a leech that was full to the brim of my blood. Cheeky bugger! Like a good leech, I hadn't felt him at any time whilst he was sucking me dry. I managed to flick him off but I didn't bother to kill him. He had done a mighty fine job so I let him go. I now had to contend with the standard small sore left behind that bled for the rest of the day!

The camera is now officially 'wet'...

It's at this point that the trusty Lumix also stopped working.  It developed a problem of being unable to focus which is quite a problem for a camera I think. I was quite worried about my ability to record the rest of the trip but I did have one more camera up my sleeve. When things are desperate one has to turn to the Nokia N93 for a bit of phone camera action. I was wary though as I didn't want my phone waterlogged as well so I held off getting it out until I made it to Michell Hut. It really was a relief to see the hut suddenly appear out of the forest. It's a great looking new hut which I staggered into to find the other two had been waiting the odd hour for me. They had the fire going and were very relaxed reading the paper. I wasn't sure what I was doing, but I was thankful to sit down in the dry and have a snack to eat. I would have been happy to stay at this location, but the plan was to still continue on up and up. 

It was a shame to leave this nice hut behind, but on we ventured. I was also instructed to keep up as we approached the tree line and were about to venture into the cloud. I was mildly blubbering at this stage and it was a pity the camera wasn't working as the landscape turned alien outside the trees. In the open terrain there were strong winds and low clouds which reduced our visibility. We were now relying on a series of snow poles to help guide us upwards.

Desperate times when the phone camera is in use...

Following the snow poles to Cleve Cole Hut...

It was hard to judge the distance of the climb at times. With every snow pole another would loom ahead through the mist, each one even higher. This continued until the ground flattened out.  We were now at 1940 metres which meant the summit wasn't too far away. It was decided though that we should come back the following day, hopefully with clearer conditions. It was roughly four kilometre walk to Cleve Cole Hut which was our destination for the night. It was fairly flat ground though at 1900 metres, with the wind howling as we passed places such as 'Hell Gap'. I was feeling pretty spent but we were making good time with the lure of the hut pushing us on. I was wondering if anyone was there, but that was confirmed when I saw smoke coming out of the chimney of the hut.

Cleve Cole Memorial Hut

We had arrived to find four others in the hut already. They were certainly settled in with what appeared to be a million clothes hanging up over the fire. They were an interesting bunch as well, decked out in their thermal underwear. One bloke was a bit disconcerting as he had shorts with a gaping hole in the front of them. I was too frightened to look at him directly, in case an unwanted pecker made an appearance. MK assured me he had blue underpants on, but this was no time to take chances. 

There was a hint of 'hiking hero' about this group. They were friendly enough, but their observations were a bit out there. Do you realise that you can work out who is a regular at McDonald's, when the person can order without looking at the menu board? No? Well, you do now. Do you realise victims of domestic violence will just meet someone else who will treat them the same way? Interesting... Do you realise that 'fair-weather' hikers are wimps who don't know what walking is all about? It was all getting a bit much when after mentioning I walk most weekends I was greeted with the response, "What? From pub to pub?" I can laugh at myself, but there are some rules. I take the piss out of myself, so I don't need others to do it for me! It's tough work this hiking business when one doesn't meet the lofty expectations of others who shoot fast and loose with their opinions.

It all made me want to sit down and dream of having a hot meal of couscous with chorizo sausage and vegetables washed down with some red wine. Oh, sorry. That's what we had for tea to the disapproval of the others eating their re-hydrated meals. "What? Drink? I'm having an alcohol free weekend!" implored one of them. Umm.. It's not actually for you, so you don't have to worry.

What a day, with a total of 17.66 kilometres walked and total elevation climbed of 1427 metres which is more than enough for me. Here's the day as downloaded from my GPS to Garmin Connect. You can click on the map and do all sorts of things if you're feeling adventurous!



What was in store for the next day? All I wanted was some dry weather, as I was going to be spending all night just drying my things from the soaking ascent... 

Moon outside Cleve Cole Memorial Hut...

Mt Bogong, Victoria. February 2011

I've been a bit slack with the blog entries lately. It's disappointing how work interferes with the walking, but I suppose I have to earn money at some point (do I?) The only thing I've had to entertain me lately is a bloke I see on my train each morning. He's a big, bruising sort of bloke who wears necklaces, and has arms that appear to drag along the ground when he walks. What's interesting is his enthusiasm for a book of true crime stories he's always reading. The book is arranged in years and he was really getting a kick out of a 1965 entry titled 'Swingers kids mysteriously abducted and then murdered'. It's an interesting train trip with this bloke instead of the army of gum chewers who I also travel with.  

Anyway, enough of that. Victoria's highest mountain is Mt Bogong which stands at 1986 metres. That's quite high for the continent which is flatter than a shit-carter's hat. I've thought of climbing it a number of times but something always seems to come up that stops me, such as polishing my extensive spoon collection. Finally the weekend was booked in and I was going to be accompanied by Mike Kilo and Double Lima. MK has visible abdominals which is worrying, as a walking companion like this is the enemy of the fat man like myself. How crazy is that movie '127 Hours'? Pretty wild story huh? Well, I have an equivalent which I'm sure could be made into a movie and that's '127 Kilograms'. That's what I weigh and it could feature my guts slowly rising up a mountain. It's probably not the greatest movie idea, but the plot is in its early stages.

The weather forecast could have been better...

The week leading up to the walk had me eagerly checking the alpine weather forecast. I was a little perturbed to see that it kept getting worse. A relevant forecast for Mt Bogong would be nearby Falls Creek and the end result was the forecast above, which was wind and rain. Now, I don't mind inclement weather but the notes in my book for the walk had comments like, "...Bogong is a peak requiring respect. A number of people have died on this mountain in the past...steep slopes and cliffs surround much of the summit and it can be very difficult to locate descent spurs in fog...when you climb Bogong take no risks...if the weather looks grim forget the trip..." So, should the trip be cancelled? I thought about it for 0.3 of a second and decided an attempt was worth it for the epic quality alone. If it was too bad then we could always turn back, although even that was unlikely as I need some sort of crap to happen to keep this blog afloat.

There are two 'normal' routes up Mt Bogong. There's the 'Staircase Spur' which had numbers attached to it that I couldn't get my head around. A 1500 metre climb over 6 km seems steep to me or alternatively the 'Eskdale Spur' with a more gentle gradient, climbing the same height in 8 km. It's all good steep fun and MK made an observation that, "You will not see any flat slobs on the top." I was thinking about this comment as my guts pressed against the belt of my pants. The Eskdale Spur was going to be our route with a night spent on top in the nearby 'Cleve Cole Hut'. We would then return via the Staircase Spur the following day.

So, there's not much else to do other than head off walking. It's a grim weather forecast, but I was still keen to climb the mountain which loosely translates as 'Big Fella'. Having been called 'big fella' for the last 25 years it was time to get to the top of my namesake. In the end this weekend walk had it all. Rain, water crossings, leeches, hiking heroes and hot-pants...

The North Face Sentinel Windstopper Jacket

North Face Sentinel Windstopper Jacket modelled by SS Speke

I first sat down and thought about what I take on every week-long hike I've ever done. This jacket is one of the items that always ends up in my pack. I bought this a couple of years ago and I believe it has been re-jigged since and may not look exactly the same as mine. I bought it as a spur of the moment decision (I'm a sucker for an impulse purchase). I was looking for a jacket for Ben in the North Face store in Melbourne. Guess what? Although Ben was with me, I ended up buying this jacket and he didn't get anything. It's tough being a kid sometimes. The first thing I liked was the cut of the jacket. It's comfortable for the 'big man/fat bastard'. I own a similar jacket made by Macpac, but it is a tighter fit as I think it's made under the thinking that outdoor people grate their cheese with their chiselled abs. As a jacket I've found it perfect for hiking, waiting on a cold train platform in winter, first dates and freestyle Scrabble games.

The jacket is light and is my standard outer wear for a winter walk.  The fabric seems tough enough when bashing through scrub and bouncing off rocks. A bloke said to me one day, "Oh, that's one of those shark-skin jackets isn't it?" I replied, "Of course it is", without having a clue as to what he was talking about. I guess he means that the material has an almost wetsuit/shark-skin feel to it. I think that's what it does feel like, as long as you spin around a hundred times, jump up and down and then feel it whilst wearing a pair of oven mitts.

The jacket is magnificent when the wind is blowing. During my winter hike through the Croajingolong National Park, I was belted with rain and strong wind off the ocean for most of my walk. I found it blocked the wind effectively, which is quite obvious really when a massive 'Windstopper' is written on the sleeve. Maybe it's the jacket placebo effect, but I felt that the wind was being stopped because, well, because it says so doesn't it? It dries quickly and retains its warmth whilst wet. True, I'm not hiking in the Antarctic, but for generally 'crap' conditions it's more than capable.

Logo on the back is the key to being assaulted...

Now, an interesting thing I've noticed with North Face stuff is that they have a logo on the back. I never realised a simple thing such as this would create a problem. Whilst wearing the jacket my elderly father on three separate occasions has come up behind me and said, "Look! There's something on your back!" and then belted me hard across the North Face logo. I was in two minds about this. Either he used it as an excuse to give me a bit of a belting, or he thought it was one of those rare white logo painted spiders that get about. He has a disclaimer though, in that he's blind as a bat, so I just had to endure a punch or two as he was actually trying to 'help' me.

Feeling intimidated yet?

When I bought the jacket, the product was listed in the North Face 'Summit Series'. This has a snazzy logo which gives the appearance that it's really good. I think it's been sacked from this series now as it's no longer in the current catalogue. How good's this review when you can't get it anymore?!  Oh well, I've got one though which is the main thing.  The overall look of the jacket works well during a fierce Scrabble game. If your opponent thinks they're getting fancy with an arse kicking word with the letter 'q' in it, then draw their attention to the jacket which you should be wearing as a prerequisite. One look at the intimidating 'Summit Series' logo in blazing red fabric will reduce the 'q' using opponent to a blubbering mess, where they're struggling to come up with any word better than 'toe'. It's the key to victory and winning a game of Scrabble any way you can is worth it. It certainly is more effective than my previous 'guaranteed winning strategy' of tearing my shirt off and roaring like an enraged Yeti every time I get a triple word score. It still works, but one ends up going through a lot of shirts.  

So, there you have it. I've worn this continually for the past couple of years whilst walking in the colder months. During the Great Ocean Walk I wore it as my primary attire and left the raincoat at home. It worked well during one unpleasant morning of heavy rain, as it retains its warmth due to some sort of furry fabric on the inner. I think 'furry fabric' is the technical term for it. It's been worn on a few first dates and I guess it creates so much of an intimidating look to these women, that they don't want a second date due to fear. I believe it's the jacket and has absolutely nothing to do with me. One last thing. I checked the pockets whilst writing this, a hidden gem was revealed. Inside was the ticket stub to the Titanic exhibition that toured Melbourne recently. The more one thinks of it, if this jacket had been general issue on the ship then fewer passengers would have died. This in turn would have made the movie so much better with Jack surviving, whilst wearing his North Face Sentinel Windstopper jacket...

Phillip Island, Victoria. Kitty Miller Bay Walk. 5 February 2011

I had planned all week to walk on the Saturday no matter what the weather. The trouble is on the Friday night Melbourne had a mega drenching of rain which was beyond a normal soaking. I woke up Saturday morning with continual heavy rain so I consulted my 'pool' of walks in Glenn Tempest's, 'Daywalks Around Melbourne'. I'm not big on forests if the weather is gnarly as I have a bit of a phobia of a whopping big tree landing on my head. If the weather is lousy I think coastal is the way to go. The possibility of big waves that look good in photos and the only real risk is some sand being blasted into my eyes. Eyes? Who needs them? So, I picked out a walk at Phillip Island that's a bit of a drive to get to, but it's a place I'm familiar with. I did note in the book that the walk can only be completed at low tide. I do plan well most of the time, but I forgot to check the tides before leaving. I was way too busy admiring a new jet black toupee I had bought to be worrying about tides. After some awkward driving as the freeway to Phillip Island was blocked by flood waters, I arrived late morning at my starting point of Kitty Miller Bay. The weather was actually rather nice. The plan was to walk to a spot called Pyramid Rock along the coast and then return. It seemed fine in theory, but I noticed the tide was looking sort of 'in-between', although I hoped it was still going out. I set out walking and the after about 10 feet I noticed an interesting sight...

A set of seaweed goggles...

There was a nice set of goggles with snorkel attached sitting in a big clump of seaweed. I picked them up noting that there was no head attached to the goggles. No blood either. The snorkel was full of sand but they were in pretty good condition otherwise. I'm not sure how someone loses goggles but that goes with my single shoe thought. Every time I walk on a beach I come across either a shoe or a thong. I'm not sure what happens to the feet attached to the shoe but it's one of life's mysteries I guess. The goggles may have been Harold Holt's? I'm not sure, but the only thing I felt I could do was keep them so I backtracked and put them in the boot of my car!

The odd rock at Kitty Miller Bay... 

I set off again and was glad I was wearing my boots. Kitty Miller Bay has a zillion rocks that are perfect for rolling an ankle on. My left ankle has been weak since I've been about 10 years old. Whenever I walk it cracks continually and I've had people say to me before, "What's that noise?"  There's not much to say other than, "Oh, that's just my ankle cracking." I reckon one day I'll be walking and my foot will drop off. Now, that would be disappointing outcome in a hiking blog. If it happens I may start a new blog, 'LyingOnTheCouchCoveredInDoritosFiasco.com'.

I then reached a small headland which is not high to climb over, but on the other side is a problem I've always been aware of. There's a slope which consists of clay and is insanely slippery when wet.  Well, since the previous nights monsoon it was wet and I went into 'look out big boy, it's dangerous' mode. A few years ago I did this walk with Ben, and he performed a classic fall down the same slope and ended up at the bottom looking like the clay monster. I eased myself down the slope but almost immediately I started an uncontrollable slide. Somehow I was upright but sliding sideways with both arms performing the 'whirl around my head' method of balance. I have no idea how I ended up at the bottom still on my feet, but I made it. I did have about 20 kilograms of clay on the soles which made me feel like I was trying out a new style of concrete hiking boot though.

Sideways slide on clay technique.  It's a winner...

After de-claying my boots I then stopped to check out the first interest of the day. There's numerous pieces of the SS Speke which was wrecked off the beach in 1906 lying on the rocks. I was looking online for some information about it, but there isn't anything I could attach a link to. All I can say is that it was a really big boat and it sank. What more do you need to know? Oh yeah, one bloke drowned and 'they' say the bay is haunted. I'm not sure who 'they' are, but it seems like a good story. I've no spooky stories to tell about the dozen times I've come to this spot. My pants came down once on their own near here, so maybe the ghost is a bit of a trickster and he dakked me?

Remains of the SS Speke...

There's an impressive amount of debris lying around, so after a little while looking and making sure my pants stayed up I moved on. I strolled across Thorny Beach and then began to look for a track which climbed 'Helens Head'. The track goes to the top of the cliffs for a short time as parts of the coast are impassable at sea level. I found the path quite easily and began to stroll up.

Looking back at Thorny Beach from the pathway...

In Glenn Tempest's book he does bang on about the view from Helens Head which I'd never actually climbed before. He's quite right though, as there are expansive views of the coastline which are quite enjoyable. I'm not sure who Helen is though to get a headland named after her. It's volcanic, bulbous and rocky. I'm hoping Helen didn't look like that because if she did, she should probably be in a circus. 

On top of Helens Head looking back at Thorny Beach...

At the top of the cliff there is a fence line which one has to follow. There's plenty of room between the fence line and the edge of the cliffs though, so it's comfortable walking. I must be starting to get a little fitter as I strolled up the hill with minimal effort. Normally I would be panting like a fool, but this time I was going alright. There were plenty of magpies about on the nearby fence posts to keep me entertained as well.

Magpie

Whilst strolling along I saw something moving in the grass near the fence. I moved a little closer and saw that it was an echidna. He was moving between the fence and at first I thought he was stuck. He wasn't though as began to dig a hole for himself under the fence. I stood back to take a few pictures hoping to get a good one of his face, but he started to go underground so I left him alone. I can't say in all my trips to Phillip Island over the years I had ever seen an echidna. Well, I can now and they are an interesting creature to look at.

Echidna action...

After that spiky interest I noticed an old ruin in one of the paddocks. It was an old stone building of some description. It's a pity this sort of stuff is on private property as some of these old buildings would be interesting to look at up close. I guess it would be at least a hundred years old?  

Old ruins...

It was time to move on though and as I crossed Helens Head I could see my destination for the day being Pyramid Rock. There was another headland further up though and it looked a bit too dicey in relation to where the ocean was. I checked my notes and read "...rock-hop and scramble around Wild Dog Bluff..." Mm...okay. Rock-hop? Scramble? Mind you, this is meant to be at low tide and right now with this 'in-between' stuff the coast line ahead looked impassable. I had another beach to walk before Wild Dog Bluff so I began to look for a way down.  

Crossing Helens Head looking towards Wild Dog Bluff...

I found a gully to get down to the beach and I struggled a bit as the grass was wet and slippery. I carefully inched down though grabbing tufts of grass on the way for balance until I reached the beach. I was now on Hutchinson Beach and within minutes I found the standard find which I've spoken about before. Yep, it was a shoe. This kept my 'beach/shoe sighting' ratio at about 100 per cent. I took a photo making note that there wasn't a foot in the shoe. One never knows at Phillip Island, as a few years ago whilst with Ben I found a piece of human spine in a rock pool. It's an interesting story but maybe that's for another day.

Guess what?  Yes, it's a shoe on a beach...

Hutchinson Beach is a nice secluded beach I had never been to before. There was a large house on top of the cliffs overlooking it though and I was thinking the lucky bastards have a great location!  I strolled on not feeling very confident of going much further though. Water was coming up towards the cliffs and although there was a short area of dry rock I wimped out. Since my Croajingolong hike I've been insanely cautious about 'rock-hopping'. I guess falling into the ocean with a pack on will do that I think. If anyone wants to know about that fiasco, the link is here. 

The start of Wild Dog Bluff.  A bit too wet for my liking...

I had enjoyed myself though, so I didn't mind having to turn around and go back.  There's always an excuse to come back one day! I did notice whilst on the beach that I began to get attacked by 'March Flies'. They have all sorts of names in other countries, but we call them that, or 'horse flies'. What I find interesting is their size which is just short of pterodactyl in bulk and what seems like a mini chainsaw in their gob which makes for a painful bite. They're insanely dumb though which is a bonus. They would buzz around my face like Stukas and then latch onto dumb things like the back of my hand. One lazy slap in slow motion and they fall down dead. One was so slow I belted him out of the sky whilst he was buzzing in front of me. As he hit the sand I did a celebration leap bringing both of my knees to chest height, and then driving my feet down at supersonic speed onto his head. It was a slaughter of beefy flies hitting the deck left, right and centre.  

Heading back on Hutchinson Beach

After taking names and kicking ass of flies, it was time to grab the tufts of grass again and climb back up to the top of Helens Head. It was quite interesting walking the other way as there was a small rocky beach I had not really noticed before. There appeared to be a nice collection of driftwood at the high tide mark which would make for some good fossicking, but I elected to not climb down to have a look. It was a bit steep and I didn't have the 'climb down mojo' at the time.

Small beach next to Helens Head.  Lots of driftwood down there!

It was about this time as I was looking ahead at the beach below, that it appeared the ocean was closer than before. The tide was actually coming in! It was lucky I didn't tackle Wild Dog Bluff (who makes up these names?) as I would have had problems trying to come back. I made a note not to spend time admiring toupees but instead to get tide times in the future. I retraced my steps and was soon making good time back to the car. On one headland the tide had come in a long way compared to when I walked through earlier. I took it easy making sure I didn't get wet feet.  

Yep, the tides coming in!

When I reached the SS Speke again I noticed the water was right around it. I was a bit too scared to try and climb the clay slide so I elected to go up to the top of the cliffs. It's a nice view from the top anyway compared to beach level.

SS Speke from the cliffs...
 

I then followed another fence line until I had cleared the clay slide and then made my way back down to the beach. I snapped off a few more photos for good measure though.

Cliff top fence with SS Speke down below...

There was an interesting tree on top of the cliffs which looked a little incongruous as there weren't any others around. It made for a final photo opportunity though!

Gnarled tree on the cliff top near Kitty Miller Bay

Back to the start.  Kitty Miller Bay.

I noted quite a few surfers in Kitty Miller Bay as I wandered back to the car. Phillip Island is a popular spot for surfers, but I can't say I've seen that many in this bay before. There had to be a dozen or so at least. Oh well, back to the car. It had been a short walk of just over 7 kilometres with 196 metres of elevation climbed. If I could have done the total walk it would have been 14 kilometres. I didn't mind so much though as it was an entertaining day. Quite a bit happened. Lost goggles, lost shoe, echidna, mud slide and Slaughterhouse Fly (Get it? Pretty funny huh?) I even had my pants still on as I avoided the dakking ghost of the SS Speke. The weather was mild and quite warm, but it was time to head home and plan next weekends walk...