Mount Wellington... Though minus wellies...

20/02/09

Trina and I get up today to head off to Mount Wellington. It seems to be the largest of the many mountains which loom elegantly over Hobart and has many walks which trail around its vast bulk. We are heading off today towards Silver Falls and Fern Tree walk. It is a pleasant day when we begin our drive some of the way up. It becomes, however, cooler and more cloudy as we make our way up the mountain. We pass little winding paths in the car which must lead to homes as they have improvised letter boxes at their gates, but sometimes no house is in evidence. The road becomes what is locally known as ‘unsealed’ which essentially means good solid gravel. We don’t go too fast around these little winding mountain-side roads!
Trina finds a little car park in which to leave the car and we set off up through a wooden archway sign which bears the legend, in Gothic script, “Abandon hope all ye who-”
Oh wait, nope, it actually says ‘Welcome to Fern Tree Walk’…
;)
We enter the cool green-ness and begin our climb upward. Some of this path is easy and fun, but most of it is a moderate challenge. It is good fun though, trotting over rocks and tree roots, breathing in the fresh, damp smell of misted trees and feeling generally rather like a hobbit (we had food with us, though I think I may need to cultivate more toe hair to truly qualify) trotting through a wood, feeling small and interested, in some hitherto unexplored land. The whole of the first part of the walk is very ferny and verdant, lush with water and full of interesting, busy noises. We cross a little bridge or two and have a good natter as we go, scrambling past great tumbled trees, consumed by smaller vegetation in their moment of weakness.
We pass a bunch of kids on our way up. We are wearing hiking boots, sporting comfortable clothing and carrying provisions such as snacks, water and spare clothing in case of accidents. They are in light plimsolls and tee-shirts. The kids, very polite and rather sweet, possibly with slight Emo leanings, ask us if we know how far it is to the road as they were parked up at the top and wanted to walk around. We looked at them strangely (we’d just spent the best part of half an hour walking up the rough, rocky track) and tell them what we know. They thank us politely and pass on down the track.
The two girls at the back smile shyly and pass us, following their lads.
They are clearly slightly crazy as they are both carrying sprigs of plant and neither is wearing shoes. Trina’s verdict is ‘Greenies’ but I reckon they are too young and are just trying to be wildernessy. Or just a bit nuts and have lost their shoes.
When we reach Silver Falls, further up the mountain after a bit of a puff, it is peaceful. Its slim, summer trickle is a delicate noise, burbling through the green of the ferns and the tall soaring trees. Nonetheless, it is still fairly large, despite the lack of rainfall and makes a good photograph or two with the large cycad-type ferns in front!
We meander back down the tracks along the imaginatively-named Pipeline Track and retrieve the car. We decide to go to Sphinx Point among other things. The walk to this lookout is far easier than the previous one, being mostly on the flat. We catch glimpses of Hobart through the tall trees and scrubby bushes. The vegetation is different here, more like that of a heathland than a jungle, and there are all sorts of photographs just waiting to be taken! I spot some pretty pink berries, and think it looks familiar but can’t place it. Later on I see similar berries in various hues from white to a deep vampy purple. They are all lovely, like little transient bush jewels. There are also cobwebs galore, though none of them seems to have an occupant. This may be due to the fact that we are almost above the cloud here, and the delicate water droplets have landed on these little mesh webs, some orbs, some little homes, and accumulated there. They droop on the webs, straining against the stronger guy lines and making them bag like ships under sail, laden with little round silver stars. They are delightful, and nigh-on impossible to photograph! They seem to have conspired with the berries to make the perfect little image – glistening web in front, surrounded by jewelled berries, and Hobart bay and mountains in the background. It is so simple, yet can be a sight fit to make the aesthete’s heart sing…
Having dawdled along this path, we arrive at Sphinx Point and admire the heavy clouds which cover everything. We can see wisps of cloud sailing past below us, around the ghostly gum trees, gleaming silver out of the murk. They rise all around us, guardians, spectres, sentinels, and are clearly relatively old; unusual here. We peer behind us, up towards the impressive sight which ought to be the side of the mountain known as the Organ Pipes.
It’s not there.
Shrouded in cloud and spiked by silver, Seussian gum trees, its bulk may well be there, but it is invisible, hidden by the murk. All around us is silence. At least, it feels like silence, blanketed as we are by clouds, yet, if you listen, the birds are clearer here, their shrill, tuneful voices reflected towards us by the layer of moisture in the air. It is ethereal and I am loath to leave, but we are hungry and also want to do more exploring.
We turn around carefully on the cliff top (there are no railings, just dire warnings about holding onto small children and not leaping off oneself!) and head back to the car.
Trina has promised me a little waterfall, pure enough to drink from, and we get back to the car and head on up the mountain towards it. We arrive at a little lay-by, where we stop. The waterfall comes directly out of the side of the mountain and splatters happily down into a little gully that has been made by the side of the road. It is about 10 feet high, and bounces merrily off various ledges and rocks on its way down. Trina chuckles and announces that we’re going to get wet.
We do.
Holding a bottle under a waterfall, however petite and delightful, is a guaranteed way of getting at least one’s arms and hair drenched. I emerge from the waterfall with damp trousers, soaked arm and glittering hair.
The water is incredible. Filtered through who knows what (rocks, ferns, trees, more rocks, probably some stray ‘roo poo), it has an insubstantial sweetness and is untarnished by chemicals. This is what living water tastes like before it is sterilised and robbed of its vivacity, icy cold, fresh, clean, pure and fragrant.
Nectar of the gods!

Thus fortified we decide to drive up to the top of Mount Wellington, just to see if we can see anything at all. Just the drive is fairly hair raising. Corners loom out of nowhere, trucks peep out of the white nothing in front of us, say ‘boo!’ and careen on their merry downward way. We go slowly and carefully, before arriving at the top car park, where we emerge from the car into the saturated air. It can hold no more moisture and we are damp all over before even getting to the look out point. Other walkers, disgruntled and similarly damp, loom darkly out of the whiteness, pass on and vanish into the nothing. We find the lookout point, and creep inside, avoiding the wind and damp. There is a soggy-looking family there already, looking hopefully out of the windows and reading the legends below. Not that it will do much good; you can hardly see the next rock in front of your foot, let alone anything further away! Even so, Trina and I decide to go to the lookout, partly because it is amusing and we are already rather wet, so a few more bits of cloud won’t hurt! We bounce down to the lookout and admire the few small rocks we can see, and watch the cloud wisping past and gathering in our hair, but decide against going to the furthest point as it is just too shrouded in cloud.
That was slightly pointless but rather fun; I don’t think I’ve walked quite so comprehensively in a cloud before!
We head on back to the house where preparations are afoot for having a Gran to dinner. The lamb and the wine are excellent, the guys know their cooking, and a nice meal is had by all… Especially the ones who have been scrambling about on the mountain all day and are hungry…

;)