The Longest Day

"If I didn't have such a big pack I'd pat myself on the back."-Me

Before I do anything else, I must address a grievous error in the previous post. I referred to the backpack I've brought here from the United States as "my pack." This is false, the backpack belongs to my dear vet student brother. In return for using it, I am expected to tutor him on the hibernation patterns of echidnas. All he, or you, needs to know about is this: they sleep and they sleep around (true story I wrote that on an exam when I was studying Tasmanian fuana. For more information on echidnas please see the post from a few years ago). Two other facts for fun: 1, spell check thought echidna was actually a misspelling of enchilada; 2, baby echidnas are called puggles and they are not cute.

Second thing to address is my other horrible mistake. Isabel and I were both pretty tired so we went to sleep immediately last night. Then we woke up about halfway through the night because it was so horribly, cripplingly cold. We each put on lots of layers in our sleeping bags, but I'm not sure if we really got much sleep for the rest of the night. We were just waiting for it to be light enough so that we could start moving around and warm up.
It turns out that all the dew froze because it still below freezing, and we thus found little ice pellets sticking to our tent and especially on the metal poles.

the shiny bits are ice and the not dark black on the pole is also frost

I am smart and threw on my gloves to take care of disassembling the tent. The gloves were cheap and not waterproof so all the frost melted in my hands and soon I had to take the gloves off in order to keep my fingers. Honestly the gloves had only made things worse. This meant during the beginning of the morning I had to resort to (wool) sock gloves, a trick I picked up running in Maine. It was shocking that it was this cold. Why would it be the same temperature as yesterday morning? How could we have predicted that? Estimates are that at the coldest it got down to -7 C (19 F) (no one got up to look at the thermometer during the night. I did try to take a picture of it in the morning, but my hands were shaking to much). Finally we got the tent packed and my hands almost warm again, and then it was travel time.

Our view for much of yesterday and today: Barn Bluff. We passed it yesterday and lost sight of it today

Today was tough, possibly the hardest day we'll have out here. We combined two days into one, and hiked from Waterfall Valley to Pelion Hut, passing the Windemere Hut on the way. Getting to Windemere was a breeze. We opted not to do a side trip to Lake Will because we had enough distance to travel already today, but I still took a picture of it

Lake Will

Anyway, we cruised to Windemere, stopping for lunch a little bit before it because we figured it was still an hour away. We were wrong, Windemere Lake appeared maybe 10 minutes later and then we made it to the hut (it had a crayfish drawing on the door). We hung out there for a little while despite having just stopped for lunch. It was a pretty hut and the lake was beautiful.

She loves all the pictures I take of her

Isabel stuck her feet in, but I was not so brave, and took pictures of her instead.

Part one of the day had been a rousing success, and it was time to press on. We then spent the longest four hours of our lives muddily slogging  another 12km or so to Pelion Hut. Part of the problem is that we probably saw the next Pelion after 4k, but rather than heading towards it, we had to skirt a huge vale through muddy and indistinct forests.

Why go straight (which includes a kind of canyon that you can't see from this picture) when you can go around instead?

Adding to the feeling that it was taking forever was the fact that once we were in the forest, there were no landmarks. The one alledged place to keep an eye out for was never marked, only adding to our confusion. Once we started going uphill we knew we things would be fine, as our map also gave us a good idea of where the elevation changes were. Still, for a while we were a bit worried we were lost. There just weren't many trail markers in the forest (probably in part because it was impossible to miss the trail. Here's how to find it: you see the only trail in the forest, stay on it).

I also want to break here to talk about the rangers. They maintained the trail amazingly and made sure the huts were clean and really did a great job making our lives a little easier. Here's an example

It doesn't need to be bigger, it's starts to look worse when expanded

We met another guy part way in. He had forgotten a camera at a little bridge that we had passed a moment before. He grabbed the camera and started running back towards Pelion Hut. I offered to let him carry my pack for me, but he demurred. Apparently he had his own 3km up the path and didn't feel like being generous. Jerk. We limped our way into camp and all but collapsed in the doorway. This was a much bigger hut than Waterfall Valley, able to sleep probably thirty people. On top of that it had four separate sleeping rooms off of the dining area. Privacy! The guy we met before and his two companions had one room, and a Taiwanese girl had another. We claimed a third. Mark and Craig got there a little after us and claimed the fourth. Let's introduce the new characters. The three guys were from SA (South Australia) and kind of doing a gap year/no money for Uni year. They were named James, Riley, and Ben. James being the one we met before, and arguably responsible for forgetting the camera. They will hereafter be referred to as "the boys." The young woman from Thaiwan was named Iris, and is considered by all to be a total badass. She was hiking solo, which we all agree is impressive. Finally there are still Mark and Craig, who actually have an identical Track itinerary to us, so we'll be seeing them a few more times. As for tomorrow, we're all going to the same place, the Kia Orra hut via Mount Ossa (sidetrip up the tallest mountain in Tasmania). 

I almost forgot what made the day worth it. When we got to camp we saw a wallaby! Why does no one seem excited about this? I forgot to mention the wallaby also had a joey, does that help?

Honestly it's a little cuter in concept than in reality, but that's ok

An important update on food. Mark had extra cutlery and took pity on me, especially when Isabel's fancy travel spork broke (we fixed it with tape).

And a final note. the chooks did calm last night, it was probably too cold to strut around after dark. I'm also wondering if their yelling at us was in fact a warning about how cold it was going to get. Maybe they were trying to look out for us and we just didn't listen. Sigh. Tonight we're inside and warm.

Picture Porn

"Good thing you have your camera for the worst sunset yet."-The ever supportive Isabel Low

And so our trek has begun. There was no post yesterday as we drove all day. The only two things worth mentioning are that we stopped at a wildlife park on the way and got to snuggle a seven month old wombat. There are no pictures as I don't want to incite too much jealously. Also, I didn't have the camera for that part. The other thing of note is that we got to our lodge for the night, packed our bags for the hike and then walked to the reception/dining area. Closed. Have you seen our pattern yet? We ended up driving 50 km on windy road to Devonport in order to get crappy Chinese food, perfect pre hike supplies.

That brings us to today. To quote the Low family "we're off like a herd of turtles." You see, we got up nice and early to drive to the Cradle Mountain Visitor Center to pick up our passes be on our way. We also wanted to get some gas as the unexpected extra 100 km last night left us quite low. So we got there, all bright eyes and bushy tailed, just before 7:30,. The center didn't open until 8...We wait until 8 and get everything sorted. We even purchased gloves because it was about 25 F that morning. I asked the ranger helping us about getting gas and he explained that the gas is run by the cafe, which doesn't open until 9. So we wait until nine, get gas, get a muffin, and get our asses on the shuttle to the start of the Track.

So, a bit before 10, a full two and a half hours after we got to the visit center, we are ready to begin our track. We registered and put down our itinerary and took the necessary photo at the beginning.

Yes, that is a stencil of a wombat

Then we started walking. I kid you not, within 3 minutes we saw a wombat. We didn't see it's leash, but I'm pretty sure the rangers put it there to keep everyone happy, like that moose we saw at Katahdin. Our other theory is that it was to convince anyone who just wanted to see a wombat that they didn't need to do the entire Track, they could just turn around and go home. I would consider this both an excellent and auspicious start to our journey.

We then walked through button grass moorland for a bit, which was pretty, in a brown sort of way. 

My Bag is Huge

The moorland was mostly flat, but then we started a gentle climb. Within a few minutes of the elevation change we were in a rainforest. There was no warning or sign or anything like that. One moment we were walking through these plains, and then we went around a bend and were in a rain forest. The rain forest only lasted a few minutes before it abruptly transformed into a deciduous forest. At this point our gentle climb has become a little more taxing, but we're still pretty fresh and soon after that we were rewarded by getting to the iconic Cradle Lake

This is Cradle Lake

We took a nice little break there because afterwards we would start the steepest part of the Overland Track (OLT). It wasn't going to be our steepest part because we are planning to a few sides trips up mountains, including Cradle Mountain.

Then we climbed the steepest part. Hooray. I know there was a lot of suspense there on whether we'd make it or not. The entire way was gorgeous, and I have to restrain myself with the pictures. Anyway, about halfway through the Track for the day, we dropped our packs and left them in a little hut along side the backpacks of other two OLT hikers who had started before us and were also taking some time to climb Cradle Mountain . We then played the "are they the other hikers or just day hikers?" game. We lost. 

The reason we needed to climb Cradle was that we're in the Cradle Mountain National Park. How can we go there, walk right by the Mountain, and not climb it? We can't. Cradle Mountain gets it name from the fact that to a drunk Australian with poor eye sight who's lost in the bush, it vaguely looks like a cradle.

Probably wouldn't be a very comfortable cradle

This climb was fun for the most part. Isabel and I both love scrambling over rocks, plus it was such a relief to get a break from my pack. Atlas may have the world on his shoulders, but I'm lugging around a tent. Anyway the climb was great until we went over the first mini peak and found some of the less exposed area. This area had snow. We had walked over a little on the way to the mountain, but we had poo-pooed it. As New Englanders we know what real snow is, not this adorable Aussie dusting. Then we saw this and realized that we had been just a teensy bit arrogant. Still, we're brave and never even considered (out loud) turning back. We traversed the snow successfully and even safely.

That's Me, and I know it looks pretty steep if I fall, well that's only because it absolutely is. Here's what it looked like if I had gone left (which would have made no sense as the peak was to the right...)

Just a little drop off over there. And yes, this is Australia, not Europe. Gorgeous though, isn't it?

We made it all the way to the top, and were able to see everything surrounding. It was awesome.

That's me thinking deep thoughts, pondering existence and such

We climbed back down, which is probably even more impressive. We just made sure not to look down during the little snow traverse part. Then it was lunch time. (Yep, we did all of this before lunch time. Saw a wombat, hiked a bit, then climbed a mountain, no big deal). Lunch was pb&j on tortilla, a wonderful little wrap chock full of calories to help power us along. We hiked another few hours and made it to the Waterfall Valley Hut (it had a wombat drawing on the door). It was quite nice, with enough room to sleep maybe 20 cramped people and there were only two other hikers in the area, Mark and Craig. They were a pair of friends from Queensland and were friendly and welcoming. They decided to sleep in the Old Waterfall Valley Hut, a dot further down the track because it was cozier and I think they wanted to make sure that they didn't disturb us and vice versa. I decided that tonight we'd use the tent despite have plenty of room inside. My reasoning is: if I carried the damn thing all the way here, we were going to use it. There was a nice grassy area that we were able to set it up. Then we had dinner, a camp stove meal. We decided to make a game of it deciding what to eat for dinner by sticking a hand into my pack, which has all our meals at the bottom, and seeing what we grab. Tonight was a backpackers chana. I forgot silverware in America, so Isabel had grabbed me a plastic fork to use. After a day of traveling in my bag it looked like this:

The biggest laugh of the night, if not the entire trip came from Isabel watching me try to eat with this former fork. Every time I got a chickpea, it would roll off as I lifted the piece of plastic to my mouth. After her appetite for my humiliation was sated, she relented and shared her spork with me. We ate around sunset and I had my camera at the ready...And the sunset was non existent, leading to Isabel's quote at the top. Once we got back in our tent, we realized that all the grassland nearby was in fact Chook (native hen, think grumpy wild chicken) territory. So they were stalking around clucking and screaming at everything, including our tent. All I can say is I hope their not nocturnal. 

I'll end this with a picture of the wombat we saw once we got to the hut. We also saw other animals that I have pictures of, but I guess this is probably enough pictures for now

Bruny Island is Full and Closed

I don't think I mentioned yesterday that we rented a car. This is of interest for two reasons. One: this is the first time I've ever done that. Typically you're supposed to be 25 to do so, something about brain development. (Seriously, part of the reasoning for this rule is that some of the lobes of the brain have not fully develop until that age, Neuroscience Agrees). So we got slapped with a young driver fee. Secondly, Australians channel their inner Brit by driving on the left side of the road. This is terrifying is you are tired from being on a plane for a day and a half with a 14 hour time zone change.

We got up after about 11 hours of sleep and then walked into town to get some supplies. Hobart is the capital city of Tasmania, and started as a penal colony in 1803. Yes, 1803, adorable I know. Australia is young even compared to the US. Anyway, the big thing we needed was fuel for a camping stove, otherwise we'd be eating a lot of cold food for the Track. On the way we also found Isabel some UGGs, which is only ok when you're in Australia. Now, I said we, but my part consisted of sitting in a chair and zoning out for 3 minutes. Yes only three minutes. In what may have been a shoe shopping world that's all it took. Isabel is awesome and amazing and breaks all gender stereotypes and I'm not just writing this because she'll probably read this post.

Isabel then drove us to Bruny Island (not wearing the new UGGS). For those who don't know, Bruny Island is a small Island off the coast of Tasmania. It's main draw (for me) is penguins. That is why we went there. On the way to the ferry we drove through a bit of pretty countryside and even went through a town called Snug. Seriously, who names a town Snug? We took the ferry over to the island and decided to set up tents and such. Now there are accommodations on Bruny, but I'm cheap, so we were camping out. There was a campsite about twenty minutes in from the ferry, and right near by the penguins (who only come out at night). It was completely full. Damn. So we drove all the way down the island by the excitingly named Adventure Point to check a few more campsites. Closed. Double Damn. At that point we decided it was time to go to the beach where he had lunch and frolicked (not in the water though, it was much too cold). In October The average Tasmanian Sea temperature is 56 F. There was also a ton of wind. Still, it was gorgeous and if you wore a jacket, you could have imagined that you were in the tropics. Here are some pictures

(that's not me)

After this we drove down to our last hope of a campsite, 45 km away right at the bottom of the island. We may have stopped a fudge store on the way. (btw half the roads are unsealed, so we really hope the rental agency doesn't look at the undercarriage when they're inspecting the car). We got to the campsite and found one other person there, and she left pretty soon after. We had the entire place to ourselves.
We set up our tent and went for a little jog to kill some time. Then it was time to get Isabel some dinner. She'd seen a drive thru Oyster Place called Get Shucked (which at various points I called What the Shuck, Shuck You, and Go Shuck Yourself. This last one was silly of me, as that would obviously be a self service Oyster Shucking place). Closed. We really have all the luck.
Then we hung out near where the penguins show up and watched a gorgeous sunset from pretty much the highest place on the island. Here are some pictures, not of the sunset as I had put the camera away at that point.

Not a Sunset

Not a Penguin (or a sunset)

Then we went down to the penguin beach and waited for the little guys with the other people who had nothing better to do on a Tuesday night. Isabel was the official penguin spotter, seeing about three before the cold wind and drizzle drove us away. I'm pretty sure if we had kept waiting there would have been more, but it was almost nine and we're still dealing with the whole jet lag thing. The best part of the entire thing was Isabel commenting on a sound she heard. She wanted to know if that was a penguin. It wasn't. Within seconds there came an indignant sound that was a penguin and could only be interpreted as: "this is what a penguin sounds like, bitch" (penguin's words, Isabel's joke, I'm innocent).
We drove back to the our campsite and saw some animals of the way as most mammals are nocturnal. Also, the stars were incredible. There was virtually no light pollution and the sky was clear at various points between rain showers. An exhausting first full day in Australia, but a fantastic one nonetheless.

We're Back!

I know many of you have been waiting impatiently for the past two and a half years for my next travel blog post. Sadly becoming a real person means that it's a lot harder to go on extravagent holidays (that's Australian for vacation). But I saved my pennies and my time off and have now embarked on a journey back to Australia. I'm currently sitting in the Sydney Airport, waiting to get on a plane to Hobart. Oh Tasmania, or as most people say, "I can't believe you're going to Tanzania!"
Sigh
So my too kind roommate Sherry drove Isabel and I to the airport Saturday late morning, with only a few cars trying to kill us, typical boston, and we checked in no problem, got to the gate and had at least an hour until boring. Sorry I meant boarding. I credit myself with our plethera of time  spent waiting at gates. I am always paranoid something will go wrong and have memories of Charles de Gaulle and the horrible lines there. My memories of the baguette we ate on line are fonder.
Get on a plane to Atlanta. Why? Miles seats, and there's technically a flight from Atlanta to Sydney. I say technically because it's stops in LA, everyone gets off the plane and gets on another, but it's billed as Atlanta to Sydney. So we get to Atlanta and have a medium long layover, maybe three hours. We walked to terminals and called family members to tell them we survived and then found food. I got some tacos and some circle bread (for non new york jews, circle bread is what others try to claim are bagels). Isabel got ribs and regretted it. She wanted veggies but decided that the ribs smelt too good. By the way, Atlanta is the busiest airport I've ever seen. If you stand in the middle of any fall you will get swept away.

We fly to LAX with no issue, go to find a bathroom, and by the time we get out the flight is boarding. We get on and a few minutes later we're joined by a gentleman who looks at us and says, "Well I'm happy you're not the same size as me."

He wasn't that big, though he didn't understand airplane ettiquette. Middle gets the armrest because the aisle has legroom and window has window to lean head. But Isabel and I put the armrest up on all the flights and just had a large seat for the two of us.

The flight was mostly painless. There were three young (australian accented) children behind us, who were adorable except the youngest made way too much noise at times. But for a 15 hour flight it could have been much worse.

Customs were a breeze, I didn't even need to see a real person for any of it. The downside is I didn't get a stamp, there's no evidence I was ever here. Sigh. Isabel had to see a person because it couldn't autorecognize her picture, what with her no longer looking like she is 16. The picture is hilarious by the way.

Now we're sitting in the Sydney Airport. And things are only going to get more exciting