UNSW Bushwalking & Mountaineering Club

Newsletter - August 2000

Introduction

Welcome back, with the first newsletter for the second session. Once again your university schedules should be healthily free of work, with plenty of time to get out and enjoy the outdoors. As you may well be aware, the ski season this year is turning out to be a great one, with lots of snow (always helpful), and plenty of opportunities to go skiing. If you've been thinking about this for a while, then this season really is the season to be heading down. We've also had our AGM for the year, and elected the bunch of people who will be running the club for the next year or so. If you missed out on the AGM, and would like to help out running the club, or have ideas for things that we can do as a club, then please let us know. Remember, it's your club, and the more you put in, the more you'll get out of it.

AGM

Well the AGM has been and gone, and here is the list of people who got elected (well really the people who volunteered to help run the club, nobody who wanted a position was knocked back).

Mountain Designs Sale Night

If you've been in the club for more than a few months, you'll know that every 6 months or so (that is every session), we arrange a sale night at Mountain Designs in the city. They open up the store to club members between 6pm and 9pm on the alloted night, and you, the club member, get to have 20% off any item in the store that isn't already discounted. Cool, Eh!

Anyway, the sale night for this session is on Monday 14th August, at the Mountain Designs city store, 499 Kent St, Sydney.

Regular Rock Climbing

There are a number of times during the week when rock climbers from the club get together and...well...climb rock. So here they are listed for your convenience.

Monday

Marc and Andrew's Monday Magical Mystery Tour: We'll be leaving uni at around midday most weeks this session to spend our monday afternoons climbing different areas around Sydney. We're hoping to go to different places each week, to learn about all the different crags in the vicinity. Contact: Marc Chee or Andrew Collins.

Tuesday

Queen's Park Bouldering: Ben Cirulis will be at Queen's Park doing some bouldering usually between 4 and 5pm on Tuesdays, which is a great way to pass the time before club meetings or just for practice at other times. Contact: Ben Cirulis

Friday

The Ledge: Every Friday night from 5 to 10pm, we have subsidised climbing at The Ledge, which is in the Sydney Uni Women's Sports Association Building. Entry is free for club members, and it's also a great way to meet other climbers from the club. Contact: Ben Cirulis or Marc Chee

Saturday

Bouldering/Climbing at Palm Beach/Barrenjoey: Most Saturday afternoons, Marc Chee will be at the boulders on Palm Beach (usually from 12pm onwards) doing a little bouldering. If anyone else comes along, there's a chance getting of some good climbing done at Barrenjoey, and also, as the weather gets better, it'll be a great day to spend on the beach. Contact: Marc Chee

Sunday

Full Day Climbing: Check the Trips List regularly for postings of day trips to exotic destinations like the Blue Mountains or the South Coast, but if you don't find anything, consider running a trip yourself.

Pantoney's Crown - Trip Report 28/5/2000

This report was originally posted in the June Newsletter, but since that didn't hit the presses (i.e. was only available online), I've decided to reprint it here for those who only get the paper version.

by Brian Hawkins

Trip Leader: Daniel Marlay

Participants: Daniel Marlay, Richard Hocking, Delphine Lepetit, Solene Liebault, Brian Hawkins, James Southwell, Tom Sobey, Srihari.

What a trip! What an epic! What an action-packed adventure! Nobody who went will ever forget this mother of all daywalks. (Day-and-a-half walks, to be correct.)

We rose early on Sunday morning and set off full of expectation. It had snowed a little in Katoomba on Saturday and we hoped to find the mountains white. Alas, it was not so. But when we hopped out of the car in Mount Vic a fine snow was falling. We sat by the hotel fire and drank foul coffee while Richard pointed out to Delphine and Solene - both French - the deficiencies of the French nation. Then Sri and Tom turned up and the party was complete. Ready for anything, we embarked on the final leg of the drive.

Hilarity prevailed. We drove through Lithgow with our arms out the windows, flapping. Near Wolgan Gap we turned onto a dirt road. As we gained altitude snow began to appear, piled like icing sugar on fallen trees and logs. Each sighting of snow was greeted with a cheer. 'Ozzie ozzie ozzie!' we cried, 'oi! oi! oi!'. Solene started a mexican wave - in French, 'l'ola' - and we booed an imaginary members' stand.

Our progress was eventually halted by a very steep, very slippery descent about two kilometres before the Baal Bone picnic area. We abandoned the cars and, after a short but violent game of soccer, set off on foot for Baal Bone. The road dropped into a cliff-walled gulley crowded with ferns and big trees. We stepped aside to let a four-wheel drive go by. 'There's eleven of us,' said the driver - and so there were. A convoy of eleven four-wheel drives came crawling up the hill. One had a sticker saying: 'the only wilderness is between a greenie's ears.'

From Baal Bone picnic area we could see a flat-topped sandstone mountain rimmed by high cliffs. It was Pantoney's Crown. To get there we would have to walk down into the valley, along Crown Creek, and up the forested flanks of the Crown itself; then we would tackle the cliffs. It was already almost midday. As we gazed at the mountain, we kissed all hope of a daylight return goodbye. Not that it bothered us - a night walk adds spice to any journey.

We wound down the firetrail towards Crown Creek, startling swamp wallabies on the way. A rare 'sumpie' was also seen. Unable to control themselves, the hardened gourmands Solene and Delphine began salivating - on Monday night they were due to eat a roo at the Little Snail Restaurant. By the time you read this the roo will have been well and truly gourmandised. Vive la France!

After a stroll along the creek (where Richard kept me entertained by pelting me with large stones ) we left the firetrail and headed up a ridge. The red walls of Pantoney's Crown loomed above us. In one place a beautiful casuarina forest was growing; as I trod over those soft, sun-splashed needles it never occurred to me to regret the absence of snow. Halted on a rocky knoll, we found two earth-coloured baby geckos beneath a sandstone slab.

By the time we reached the base of the cliffs it was three o'clock and it had gotten colder. Tom spotted a ramshackle nest on a ledge and climbed up to take a look. Suddenly a grey shape exploded out of the twigs, wings hissing in the wind. Was it an owl? A hawk? Neither - we had discovered a lyrebird's nest! Meanwhile Richard expressed himself by sending enormous boulders crashing down the hillside.

We lunched under a sandstone overhang and it started snowing. It was exhilarating. Big flakes came spiraling downwards through the nearly windless air; and in the valley we could hear the wind surging like surf in the treetops. What a day we had picked! New South Wales was experiencing its coldest May weather since the 1950s.

A cairn marked the start of the pass to the summit. Richard assisted the less able climbers to scramble upwards. The route was not too difficult until the final four-metre wall. Here Delphine, Solene and I stayed behind while Daniel led the others on a lightning raid upon the Crown.

We three francophones made tea and waited for the summit-party to reappear at the edge of the cliffs above us. The light was fading. We sat in the snow and gazed out at Genowlan Mountain and the Capertee Valley. A high conical peak - Mount Coricudgy? - rose through the haze a long way to the North. In the end clouds swept over the valley and the view vanished. Just as the tea boiled we looked up to find that the summit-party was ready to descend.

Climbing up the four-metre wall had been hard, and climbing down it promised to be harder still; but James accomplished the feat without too much trouble and the others followed. We gulped our tea then slipped and slithered to the foot of the cliffs.

It was twilight and the snow was getting heavier. Flakes the size of ten cent pieces quickly covered the earth in white. It was amazing and we sang as we scrambled down through the snow-covered rocks. In all the world there can have been no better place to be.

The trees showed dark against the white snow. Our feet left a dark muddy trail through the whiteness. We started down a ridge in the gloom and before long the snow was left behind and there was only water.

For two hours we wandered around on the ridges. We zig-zagged, losing altitude gradually, navigating by torchlight. We were never certain of where we were but we kept heading in the right direction. Eventually a steep gulley deposited us in Crown Creek and we rejoined the firetrail. Here Delphine and Solene made a lot of friends by opening a packet of chocolate wheatens; and it was here also that I ate the greatest vegemite sandwich of my entire life - and that's saying something. Vive la vegemite!

The three-hour walk back to the cars was oddly enjoyable. There had been a high mortality rate among our torches - two out of five were cactus - but there was no great need for illumination along the firetrail. I went ahead with a darkened torch and I hardly fell over at all. The bush was very still. Nothing stirred apart from the odd half-frozen wallaby.

I rejoined the party at the beginning of the ascent to Baal Bone picnic area. Delphine and Solene lifted our spirits by singing dirty songs in French (we think they were dirty; they sounded kinda dirty) while Daniel made a mysterious side-trip into the forest. Mindful of the Anzac spirit of self-sacrifice and devotion, we abandoned him in the bush and ran up the hill as fast as we could. But the fleet-footed bastard put an end to our plan of stealing his car and selling it in Lithgow in order to finance the most stupendous poker machine binge of all time when he caught up with us about a fifth of the way to the top. Ach! We were so close!

At Baal Bone a fire winked forlornly. It was snowing and, now that the climb was done, our exertions were insufficient to keep us warm. We trotted along the trail, curious as to what state the cars would be in. We had to walk around several newly-fallen trees; we wondered if the exit roads might be blocked. The gulley where we had encountered the four-wheel-drive convoy was deep in snow. Ferns and branches sagged with the weight of it, and while we were walking we heard a tree snap and fall somewhere in the darkness.

The final ascent was all ice and mud. My volleys slipped and I laughed like crazy. My socks were sopping wet from walking through puddles; so were Solene's and so were everyone else's, probably. It was not possible that there should be so much snow! I looked up to where the southern cross shone brightly. The milky way was like a great silver scarf thrown across the heavens.

The cars, when I reached them, resembled igloos. Everyone was hopping up and down in the cold and saying rude things about me. They had been waiting for me to turn up and take a group portrait. It was worth the wait; my flash wouldn't go off. When at last it did, the camera was pointing the wrong way - through no fault of mine.

After the shoot we burrowed into the cars like so many beachworms and, thanks to some consummate driving by Daniel and James, made our way to Katoomba without mishap. But at Leura the highway was iced over and the police would not let us continue. It was one thirty in the morning. We parked outside the station and considered our options. I called a friend in Leura but the nameless crapaud was so lazy he couldn't even be bothered answering the phone. Thank heavens for people like the Ernsts, friends of Daniel's who let us stay the night in their holiday house. I commend them for their generosity - but if I had a house, there's no way I'd let anyone like us near it.

Since the roads were too dangerous to drive on, we faced the delicious prospect of squeezing into our wet socks and shoes and walking a kilometre to the Ernst's house. Most of us opted to do without socks. Outside it was still snowing. A man was strolling up and down the street saying, 'I come from Malaysia, I've never seen snow before, I drove all the way up here just to see the snow.' His friend asked, 'Does everyone want to go swimming? Is everyone keen to�' But he was interrupted by the loud crash of a thousand hearts breaking as one. A tremendous sigh went up from the female population of Leura; Sri had taken his shirt off in the middle of the street. (I think I heard Tom sigh too but I wouldn't swear to it.)

We limped and slithered down the hill to the Ernst's holiday house. The walk was over; now it was time to savour the good things in life. There can be few experiences more satisfying than to drink hot chocolate in front of a fire knowing that in the unheated room next door Richard Hocking is slaving away washing eight pairs of stinking socks. Vive le snow! Vive le U.N.S.W.B.M.C.!

Skiing Albina - Trip Report - 6-7/8/2000

The ski seasons over the past few years have been pretty poor, with cold winters but no snow, percipitation when it's been too warm (rain) and sometimes even a lack of both. In 2000, however, we seem to have lucked out, the ski season opened early, they actually had ski lifts open on the opening weekend (a rare occurence over the past few years), and regular dumps of snow following the initial good cover. All in all its a great time to go skiing.

And then there had been July, which was enjoyable, but I hadn't managed to get down to the snow during the entire month. So I was feeling rather keen to get out into the backcountry again on this first weekend of August. The only things left to decide were who, where, how, and all those other small details that can be left (and were left) to the day before.

Rick and I had talked for many years about getting out onto the western faces of the Main Range, skiing the really big, steep slopes (well by Australian standards anyway), but somehow we never managed to get out as far as we'd hoped. I was continually falling for the trap of taking beginners on my trips. I enjoy teaching people how to ski and taking them out into the backcountry, but one does end up travelling slowly, and you never make it too far away from the resort. Rick managed to come mainly on the trips that I organised, and was always berating me for allowing too many beginners to come on my trips. This trip was going to be different, we decided it was going to be just the two of us, and thus we would be able to make it to some of these slopes we'd dreamed of skiing.

5pm Friday, time to head home from work, call Rick and arrange a pick up time and time to pack. Funny how you always end up packing at the last minute. At 8pm we had finally got our stuff together so we bundled into Rick's trusty old Volvo and started the long drive south. Some people wonder whether it's worth driving 6 hours down to the snow and 6 hours back, just for a weekends skiing - it is. Following tradition, we arrived in Jindabyne at 2am in the morning, parked the car at the Nuggets Crossing carpark (Nuggets Crossing is a shopping center in Jindabyne), went for a wander and then went to sleep on the seats in the car.

The next morning we got up at about 7:30am, grabbed a bit of breakfast from the local bakery, and headed into Wilderness Sports to pick up Rick's new skis, and to hire some skins. Trips to the snow always involve a visit to Wilderness sports, as there always seems to be one more bit of gear that you need to acquire. Unfortunately Wilderness Sports were all out of hire skins, and so we ended up having to hire them from their shop at the top of Thredbo. By the time we had driven to Thredbo, caught the lift up the hill and hired our skins, it was 11:00am...so much for our early start.

We headed out towards Mt Kosciuzko, following the tracks laid down by the miriads of skiers before us. During the summer, there is an elevated metal walkway running from Thredbo to Rawsons Pass at the base of Kosciuzko. In winter, the walkway is covered, but lots of skiers (and snowboarders) follow it's path towards Kosciuzko, leaving a series of tracks that are easily followed. It took us one and a half hours to travel the 5km to Rwasons Pass, and after a short break there only fifteen minutes to traverse the remaining 2km to Muellers Pass.

Muellers Pass is situated between Muellers Peak (the first peak to the north of Kosciuzko) and Mt Northcotte. On the souther side, about 150m lower in elevation lies the north arm of the snowy river, while to the north lies Lake Albina, and Lady Northcottes Canyon. We had lunch and set up camp at Muellers pass, building a quite respectable snow wall to sheild the tent and ourselves from any strong winds that might blow up during the night.

After lunch we started traversing the side of Mt Northcotte above Lake Albina, aiming to find some nice slopes to ski. Rick decided that the slope we were traversing would be a nice slope to ski. This slope was at an angle of about forty to forty five degrees, which made traversing difficult, neccesitated taking off our skis and kicking steps to ascend to the top and was also well beyond my comfort zone for skiiable slopes. Rick, however, assured me that I would be able to handle it, and thought that I really should give jump turns a bit of a go. So after a short introduction to jump turns at the top, Rick headed off down the slope, and I followed after him. I was surprised at just how easy and controllable these jump turns were, and despite a fall or two, made it to the bottom having left a quite respectable set of tracks down the slope. Rick was ecstatic about the performance of his new skis, which was evident in the tracks he had left down the slope. Tight, small radius turns at the top, getting larger and faster as he got more confident in the skis and started to "let them run".

After our first descent we skinned up to "the grandstand" for a fantastic view down Lady Northcottes Canyon and across the Western face of the ranges towards Watsons Crags, and then picked another slope down to the lake for a second run before heading back up to the pass and our tent.

That night we discovered some of the omissions in our packing the previous night, my pots were still dirty from a trip two weeks prior (love that furry mold), and I'd only brought a one litre water bottle. Rick had forgotten his cuttlery and only had a 600ml water bottle. To top it all off, the snow was so good, that all the nearby creeks were completely covered, and we were going to have to melt snow. First we melted snow in my slightly dirty pots, but it tasted terrible, and I'm sure that the water probably needed to be boiled to disperse the greeblies. Then Rick had the idea of melting snow in the pot to get water, but then adding fresh snow to our bottles, and melting that in the bottles, by heating the bottles in the water that we had melted in the pot. A little slow and inefficient, but the water it produced didn't taste so bad. We had a huge meal of Hot Chocolate, three minute noodles, lots of pasta with pesto and finally some lime jelly for dessert. After quenching our appetites and as we started to feel the cold of the night really settle in, we headed into the tent to get warm in our sleeping bags.

I always sleep well when out camping, particularily snow camping, and so it was 10:30am by the time we got moving and skiing on Sunday. This time it was time to try the slopes off Muellers Peak and Mt Townsend, as they were catching the morning sun, and would have the best skiing conditions. Climbing out of Muellers Pass and onto the ridge of Muellers Peak, I slipped while traversing twice, and on the second time managed to cut the strap of my skins with the edges of my skis. After climbing onto the top of the ridge, it took me a while to figure out a way to jury rig the skins from the limited resources available to me. I did manage, however, and we continued onto and beyond Muellers Peak.

Rick found a steep line down to Lake Albina from just beyond the summit, while I found a slightly shallower line a bit further along. We both got good runs in, and regrouped down at the lake to head back up to camp for lunch. The snow wall which had provided excellent protection from the wind last night, now provided shade from the sun, which was out in force today. Except when making downhill runs, Rick and I were both skiing in t-shirts.

We decided to head back after lunch, recalling our previous trip, when I had only got to the top of Thredbo at 6pm at night and had to ski all the way down, wearing a full pack and dodging the snow grooming machines, at night. That and the fact that our water supplies were getting lower and lower. We took a different route back to Thredbo, descending from Muellers Pass to the Snowy River, crossing that and then ascending a shallow ridge to the snow pole line that marked the Kosciuzko road, running from Charlotte Pass to Rawson Pass. From Rawson Pass we followed the same old route back to the top of Thredbo.

The trip back involved yet another trip to Wilderness Sports, and of course an obligatory dinner stop at Cooma. Trip participants were myself and Rick Hocking.

Daniel Marlay.

Trips List

�Daniel Marlay 10/8/2000