Southern Ranges - November 2011

Mount La Perouse summit cairn with Pindars Peak in the distance

Pindars Peak, Prion Beach and the Maatsuyker Group

Day One

Pre-dawn mist near Hunterston in Tasmania's central highlands.

The Southern Ranges and their holy grail, Precipitous Bluff, have loomed large in my consciousness since habitually poring over John Chapman's first edition of South West Tasmania when I was a child.  Being at the other end of Tasmania from my home town of Burnie made it an elusive goal.  The thought of wading down a lagoon for hours on end just added to the intrigue.  Few southern destinations featured in my pre-parenthood jaunts - Federation Peak in my early 20s was the only major exception.

Sunrise near Bothwell

Bright and early on a crisp morning in November 2011 I headed south from the North-West Coast.  The sun rose as I descended from the Central Plateau on the Highland Lakes Road and, eventually, I arrived at the Lune River trail head.  Before shouldering my pack I headed up the road to look at Benders Limestone Quarry which had been in the news so many times.  The Hawke Labor federal government repeatedly lost patience with the reluctance of successive Tasmanian governments to enact the closure of the mine to protect the World Heritage listed Exit Cave.  As I perused the encroaching vegetation I realised 20 years had passed since those news stories which seemed so recent.

With my pack on board I headed along the track which, initially, follows an old railway formation.  Several gullies are crossed with the land generally sloping downhill from left to right (south to north) where the slopes of Marble Hill give way to the Lune Plains below.  Much to my surprise I arrived at Mystery Creek which was flowing from right to left!  A side-trip from another old quarry led to the explanation for Mystery Creek's incongruous path towards the hill.

Mystery Creek formations

 

At the foot of a limestone cliff Mystery Creek flows directly into the base of Marble Hill.  It is easy to follow the creek into the first chamber of Mystery Creek Cave where only a short walk is needed to go beyond all evidence of natural light.  Navigation through the large cavern is easy with the stream at normal flow.  After a short scramble a narrow gap is reached where a muddy tide-mark well above my head shows why this is not the place to venture in wet weather.  Just beyond the gap the stream drops into unseen tunnels below while side tunnels head away left, right and straight ahead - a great place to turn around and head to the surface without the risk of being directionally challenged in a dangerous place.

Bullfrog Tarns mark the start of Moonlight Ridge with Tabletop, Mt La Perouse and The Hippo.

Beyond the quarry the track gained height rapidly through tall eucalypt forest.  A brief respite from the steep gradient ushered in myrtles and another climb which in turn gave way to tea tree just before reaching Moonlight Flats.  Almost half of the day's climbing is in the bag at this point.  Low, dense scrub obscuring the heavily braided track made for slow progress past Bullfrog Tarns but clear, blue skies and views to a snow-encircled Mount La Perouse egged me on.

Geeves Bluff and Federation Peak from Hill One

Mt La Perouse from Hill Three

After the Flats, Moonlight Ridge is made up of four distinct Hills each with its own unique character.  After approaching from the east, Hill One is sidled on it's north and west flanks just above a small cliff-line.  Hill Two has it's appropriately named eastern extention, Tabletop.  Hill Three features Agnetes Garden atop a narrow ridge leading out to The Hippo on one side and on the other, the narrow Moores Bridge is a classic glacial circque separating Lune River from the upper tributaries of the Picton.  Hill Four overlooks Reservoir Lakes, Pigsty Ponds and the upper reaches of the D'Entrecasteaux River which would be my accommodation for the next two nights.

Reservoir Lakes (above) and Pigsty Ponds (below) from Hill Four

Day Two

The Hippo and Cockscomb at sunrise

After being treated to an amazing sunrise over the Hippo and Cockscomb I headed off with a light pack for some peak bagging.  By 7am I was admiring the spectacular summit cairn atop Mount La Perouse.  Clear conditions and the broad, scrub-free summit encouraged me to take a circuitous route back to the main track.

South East Cape and Swallows Nest Lake from Mt La Perouse

A short walk east led to the plateau-edge for a bird's-eye view of Swallows Nest Lakes and Tasmania's southern-most tip, South East Cape, piercing the shimmering waters of the Southern Ocean.  Next I headed north along the snow drifts where views of Southport Lagoon and Bruny Island accompanied me until I reached a ridge overlooking The Cockscomb.  The line of turrets echoes common features found on many of Tasmania's better-known dolerite peaks.

Precipitous Bluff and Mt Wylly from Maxwell Ridge

Once back at the original climbing route I headed down to the saddle, over Maxwell Ridge, through a small patch of forest below Knife Mountain and on to Ooze Lake.  From there Lake Mountain is skirted to reach the Pindars massif itself.  North facing slopes are soon left behind in favour of south eastern slopes with views out to the lakes feeding South Cape Rivulet.  Just before the final, short ridge-climb to the summit a 'track' descends northwards towards exotic destinations like Pandani Knob, Leaning Tea Tree Saddle and, ultimately, Precipitous Bluff - inspiration for a future walk but not something that would fit on this particular long weekend.

Pandani and stunted myrtles in the forest below Knife Mountain

On the summit of Pindars fine weather heralded superb views to New River Lagoon, off-shore islands including the Matsuuyker Group and the long expanse of sand at Prion Beach.  To the north-west PB loomed large over the upper reaches of the lagoon while the White Monoliths, Eastern and Western Arthurs and other mountain ranges stretched to the horizon beyond.  After leaving Pindars the fine weather persisted so I followed the delightfully scrub-free ridgeline over Lake and Knife Mountains, rejoining my outward route and returning to my D'Entrecasteaux River campsite.

Prion Beach, Maatsuyker Group and New River Lagoon from Pindars Peak

Precipitous Bluff and Federation Peak from Pindars Peak

Day Three

Sunrise over The Hippo

Another gorgeous sunrise watched over my breakky inspiring an early adventure before heading home.  Arndell Falls are only a kilometre down the river from the track crossing.  The valley looked relatively scrub free - what could possibly go wrong?

Arndell Falls

In a matter of minutes I was standing at the top of the falls but, as keen waterfall baggers can attest, I wanted that sought after, front-on pic.  Some rocks protruding from the south side of the valley seemed like the perfect vantage - they were only 50 metres away. Well...

Chasm beside Arndell Falls

That 50 metres proved to be quite an ordeal.  First it was the scrub.  There were places the scrub was so thick I could barely get my fingers into the thick-woven mat let alone any other part of me.  After 20 minutes of thrashing the rocks appeared barely 5 metres away but...

I was now faced with a narrow chasm 30 metres deep and barely 3 metres wide with no view of the falls.  I refused to let this defeat me so a few more minutes of scrub wrestling delivered me to a point where I could descend into the depths and scramble up the other side.  My rocky outcrop did indeed give a better view of the falls but the relatively low flow made me wonder whether it had been worth the effort.

Half an hour later I re-emerged from the scrub, back at the top of the falls, and wandered down the much-less-scrubby northern side of the valley until I could see the falls again.  Sure enough, the angle of the falls made them obscured by scrub when viewed from this direction - my mission had been worthwhile!

Lune River landslide

As I retraced my steps over Hills Four, Three, Two and One then back down to the car a few things caught my attention.  Firstly, the view of Arndell Falls from Hill Four was quite distracting - was my scrubby mission worthwhile after all?  Secondly, there's a ripper landslide below Hill One where the steep, glacially carved valley has collapsed sending enough rubble into the Lune River to create a temporary dam which must have filled enough at some stage to kill the trees upstream.  My final distraction on the way out was a narrow slot cave in the forest just as the track starts its final descent into the eucalypts above Mystery Creek - I suspect this is the uppermost karst feature in the area.

Flash photo from inside slot cave high above Mystery Creek quarry looking out toward daylight

On the long (5-hours - that's long by Tassie standards), late evening drive home I contemplated my next adventure in the area hoping that one day I would have the opportunity of making it to PB.

Southern Ranges 2011 - Facebook Album

Tarkine Falls - May & June 2008

A couple of 10-year old posts from my old blog...

Tarkine Falls

May 2008
Recently I had the opportunity to complete part of the Tarkine Rainforest Track south of the Arthur River in the state's north-west.  The Tarkine is an area which many people still find hard to define.  It is a vast area of rainforest, remote mountains and rugged coastline roughly bounded by the Arthur and Pieman Rivers, Murchison Highway and Indian Ocean.

A few years ago, a company now called Tarkine Trails, started a 5 day commercial walking circuit starting at Farquhars Bridge and ending at Hilders Bridge.  As both bridges over the Arthur have washed away, both ends of the walk involve getting wet or using a canoe.  The taped route was originally marked by the Tarkine National Coalition and follows old logging roads for some of its length before plunging into the vast myrtle rainforests and button grass plains that blanket much of the Tarkine.

Eastons Creek

Our walk covered the last 2 days of the Rainforest Track, starting and ending at Hilders (Bridge) Crossing and staying overnight at Tarkine Falls.

Wading the Arthur was not too eventful.  A ford 500m downstream from the old bridge site allowed for knee-deep wading after which the Keith River and Folly Hill Roads were followed to another river wade, this time over the Lyons River.  Just before the road crests the ridge on the west side of the Lyons valley, Folly Hill Road swings south and almost disappears into a sea of bauerea while a side road (which looks like the main road due to recent use) continues over the ridge toward the Wynsmith Hills.  It was a struggle at times as we frequently ducked under or over bauera choked fallen trees until the old road became clearer as it descended to a long-delapidated bridge over Eastons Creek.

Galadriels Cascades

After lunch, we slogged up Hurdle Hill, a name we coined for the 1km climb featuring the alomst impossible impediment of a fallen eucalypt over 2m in diametre.  At the top of the hill, the road peters out and a final snig track is followed to the southern limit of historic logging activity.  Once the final tree stump is reached, it is like stepping into another world.  Instead of ti tree and eucalypt regrowth, we had suddenly entered the realm of towering myrtles which sheltered mosses, ferns and the most amazing variety of fungi I have ever seen.

After some ups and downs, the taped trail led us past the Blue Peak campsite to the two tiered waterfall dubbed Galadriels Cascades.  Eastons Creek was then crossed and recrossed before we eventually reached the Tarkine Falls campsite just on nightfall.  There was just enough light to select tent spots and setup camp.  While pleasant in one sense, it was a little surprising and dissappointing to find that a large canvas shelter and seating area has been established by the commercial walk operator.  In the hollow under a giant myrtle, large white drums of cooking ingredients had been stashed under a tarp.

As I fell asleep to the peaceful sound of falling waster, I decided this must be the first walk to a waterfall where the sound of it taunted me through 15 hours of darkness before I could see what it actually looked like.  When I collected water for dinner, I rock-hopped to the waterfall base and the top of the fall was out of reach for my feeble headlamp so I knew it was more than a few metres high.  In the morning, I was rewarded with a quick photography session before we retraced our steps, making good time back to the cars at Hilders Crossing.

There is some talk in government ranks about the possibility of a tourist road through this area.  I am now in two minds whether to support or oppose it.  Tarkine Falls in my opinion are very pretty but not as spectacular as the more accessible Dip Falls which are slightly bigger and on a larger watercouse.  The section of the proposed road near the Lyons River traverses an extremely steep sided valley where a large landslide has already removed most of the road at one spot.  It would be difficult to make the road landslide-proof without making huge scars on the landscape by cutting deep into the hillsides.

Tarkine Falls camp

In terms of the scenery traversed by the road, it is quite spectacular but, for much of its length, it will only be skin deep.  The impact of forestry operations would only just be out of view.  This type of wilderness experience is already available in many other parts of the region where roads pass through similar forests.  The Savage River Rd, Western Explorer, Reece Dam Rd and Murchison Hwy in places all traverse similar terrain.

After walking in the area, I am convinced that the only benefit of the proposed loop road is to separate production forestry traffic from tourist traffic.  This is certainly an issue for tourists attempting to access features such as Dip Falls, Milkshake Hills, Lake Chisolm, Wes Becket, etc.  I just wonder whether there is a better route that links these areas without reopening roads that flirt so closely with the precious rainforested interior of the Tarkine.

June 2008
A mate was keen to go to Tarkine Falls so, despite being there only two weeks earlier, I was off again!

On the way to Hilder bridge we took a fork in the road that led to a picturesque bend in the Arthur below Phantom Peak.  The peak was living up to its name with its head well in the clouds.

After wading the Arthur and Lyons Rivers, we explored a short distance beyond where the overgrown section of Folly Hill Road turns off.  Just over the ridge a helipad had been bulldozed into the tea tree scrub.  We could see along the ridge a short distance but cloud was still preventing us from seeing Phantom Peak and the Wynsmith Hills.

Once back on the track we made reasonable time and just had time to setup camp at the Falls before dusk.

The following day, we decided to spend a bit of time following the taped 'Day Walk' route that heads away from the Tarkine Falls campsite.  Walking as quickly as we could, we climbed gradually for approx 2km to a point where the track was about to commence a sudden descent into the valley of Eastons Creek.  We were very keen to make it out of the forest into clear terrain but our time was limited so we headed back to our packs and toddled home.  Further exploration will have to wait for another day.

On a future trip, I am hoping to take my mountain bike in to Folley Road which can be accessed from the 'South Arthur Forest Drive.'  It should be possible to take the road to the edge of the button grass plains only a short distance from the Falls.

Very soon after returning from this trip, the State Budget was announced.  Lo and behold, there is money in it for the new Tarkine tourist road.  My prediction is that the road will be similar to the Abt Railway.  It will run way over the budget.  I'm guessing that the people who have estimated its cost are not familiar with the terrain to be traversed.  As I mentioned in my last post, the Folly Hill Road has literally fallen into the Lyons River due to a large landslide.  In several spots in that area, the road is cut into a very steep hillside and would only be a single lane wide.

I'm also curious about the approach that will be taken with construction.  The cheap way to build it will be to clear a massive wide swathe through the forest.  In the case of the Gordon River Road, it took the best part of 3 decades for the roadside vegetation to recover.  The new sealed road in to Dove Lake and Waldheim has been sensitively built into the surrounding terrain but I expect the construction techniques there are expensive.  I would be very surprised if that approach could be afforded with the money that has been allocated.


The tragic case of the Western Explorer shows that the government is not willing to spend the money on maintenance to keep the road open.  It has now been closed for 6 months following a bushfire and there's still no sign of when it may reopen.  Will this new Tarkine Road be similar?

2018 Update
Common sense has prevailed in relation to the Tarkine Drive.  The South Arthur Forest Drive has been upgraded and rebranded as the Tarkine Drive.  Visitor Guides for the Western Explorer and Tarkine Drive can be found at Discover the Tarkine's website.

Despite being marketed as a tourist destination there are still conservation concerns in the Tarkine.  Threats include logging, mining and off-road vehicles (a few badly behaved 4WDers wreck it for the rest).  All of these are happening within a short distance of the tourist drives being promoted.  The Bob Brown Foundation is very active in monitoring these threats and calling for the area to become a national park.

In 2014 I was delighted to take Kylie to see Tarkine Falls.  We first went to listen to my sister Vanessa who had been engaged to sing at a Tarkine Coalition training weekend.  After this we waded the Arthur and followed the route described above, spending one night at Blue Peak and a second night at Tarkine Falls.

Galadriels Cascades

A highlight of the 2014 trip was seeing a fine specimen of the world's largest freshwater crayfish wandering up the rocks in front of us as we ate lunch beside Eastons Creek.

Tasmanian giant freshwater crayfish walking over moss covered rocks beside Eastons Creek

Western and Eastern Arthurs Traverse - Part 6

A 12-day traverse of the Western and Eastern Arthur Ranges in Southwest Tasmania by Kylie and Clinton Garratt.  Part Six takes us home over the familiar route descending Moss Ridge before crossing Crest Range and the South Picton Saddle.

Day 11 - Bechervaise Plateau to South Cracroft River
In theory our timing could have still allowed a sniff at the Federation Peak summit.  If conditions had been perfect we could have spent the morning slipping around the eastern end of the Southern Traverse, up the Direct Ascent and back to Bechervaise by lunchtime.  An afternoon slogging down Moss Ridge would then need to be followed by an evening getting to at least Paperbark or Forest Camp to allow time to get all the way out on Day 12.

As well as the epic walking needed to achieve the summit and on-time return home we needed a few miracles to greet us as we opened the tent door.  The early sun would have to be zapping snow and ice at an amazing rate.  It would need to be accompanied by a hot, dry northerly wind swirling around to the back of the mountain and drying the south-facing Direct Ascent where the sun don't shine.

As such impossible dreams were drifting through my head I opened the tent door to look at what should have been sunrise and found us surrounded by thick, damp swirling fog.  The terraces above our campsite were not out of the cloud, let alone Fedder itself.  No sunshine or miraculous hot northerly wind either.  Just the constant sound of water running off the cliffs above us indicating the peak would be snow free in a day or three, not an hour or two.

Between the teeth of Moss Ridge.  This is typical of Moss Ridge and the Beggary Bumps.  In several places you clamber down tens of metres vertical height, take two steps forwards then clamber up the next knoll.

I'm not sure either of us gave voice to the fanciful thoughts in the paragraphs above.  Instead we set about matter-of-factly doing breakfast, and packing up the tent and setting out for the penultimate time this trip.

At the top of each prominent knob forming the 'teeth' of Moss Ridge we looked back half expecting a snow-clad Fedder to come out of the cloud and jeer at us.  It did not.  The cloud did not appear to be going anywhere anytime soon.

Kylie clambering up one of several knolls (or 'teeth') on Moss Ridge

The jungle-gym fun of Moss Ridge was almost over when near disaster struck.  I opted to walk along a huge fallen tree-trunk instead of following Kylie's sensible lead.  Just as Kylie was about to compliment my acrobatic ability I succumbed to the sleek bark-free surface and found myself propelled by the weight of my pack head first towards the ground below.  The head-first landing hurt but...  I survived.  At the next log crossing a smart move would have been to adopt the straddle method but no - I'm a slow learner! Thankfully this time my head was not the first thing to hit terra firma.  A short, groggy 10 minute wander delivered a much needed sit-down beside Cherry Creek at Cutting Camp.

Typical Moss Ridge where the track squeezes between pack-grabbing horizontal trunks

After lunch the kilometres beside the Cracroft River melted away slowly but surely.  We were both suffering quietly in our own ways as we steadily plodded along.  At Crest Range we looked back one more time to see cloud denying our last clear view of Federation Peak.  Eventually we were safely esconsed in the warmth of our Hilleberg Alak beside a peaceful South Cracroft River.  After setting off Millie (our PLB) one last time we quickly dozed off.

Tea tree shelter at South Cracroft campsite

Day 12 - South Cracroft River to Farmhouse Creek
Although it's only a half-day walk from South Cracroft to Farmhouse, this is a walk that does not let you go easily.  Deep bogs between towering button grass clumps surrounded by bauera, tea tree and cutting grass feature soon after leaving the campsite and again around the Mount Bobs turn-off.  Many tree-falls make hard work of the steady climb to South Picton Saddle.  Even the last dry section of track through relatively open eucalypt forest nearing the end seemed to drag on and on.  Are we there yet?  Are we there yet?  A proliferation of fungi provided some distraction on the final descent.

Ancient myrtles at South Picton Saddle

Right on time, at 1pm in the Farmhouse Creek car park, clean clothes, fresh food and comfy seats heralded our return to 'normal life.'

That's where the story should end but little did we know...

Farmhouse Creek car park.  The end of our adventure...  Or was it?

The descent from Willies Saddle on the drive home brings the first mobile reception and with it a barrage of messages.  There were dozens of missed calls from my siblings.  I ignored those in the first instance to reply to a call from my daughter.  She just had a small change to school pickup plans.  With that worked out I started to wonder what all the other calls were about.

Right on cue my sister called.  She was in a car with my dad and they had passed us earlier back on Arve Road.  Apparently our final PLB message had not gone through.  After receiving "Ok" messages from every campsite except the last one my wonderful family had gone into rescue mode.  After my brother in Victoria had mixed results dealing with the SPOT helpline in the US the next logical step was to check the Farmhouse Creek car park.  They saw us 3.5 hours into their 4.5 hour drive from Launie!

I'm fairly sure I saw Millie's confirmation light to say the message sent successfully from beneath the tea tree canopy at South Cracroft.  However, with tiredness and a hit on the head, perhaps I was seeing what I wanted to see before switching the unit off so I could doze off to sleep.  Either way, it was heartwarming to see a family of would-be rescuers looking out for us.

...and after all that, school pickups went beautifully to plan.

Western and Eastern Arthurs Traverse - Part 5

A 12-day traverse of the Western and Eastern Arthur Ranges in Southwest Tasmania by Kylie and Clinton Garratt.  Part Five features challenging conditions and an eventful traverse of the Eastern Arthurs including a rarely traveled route.

Luckmans Lead

Day 9 - Pass Creek to Goon Moor

Our departure from Pass Creek campsite coincided with a brief pause in the heavy rain.  This was just enough time for us to ascend the first part of Luckmans Lead to a point where hail was still settled on the ground from the last shower.  Right on cue another heavy hail shower lashed us and added to the icy drifts.  We appreciated the hail bouncing off us without having a chance to get us seriously wet.

Stuart Saddle

Just before reaching the forested section of our climb clouds opened to reveal the valley between an invisible Mt Hopetoun and the peaks immediately above us.  A spectacular waterfall plunging into the forest in the middle distance looked surreal - as if the scene was lifted from a book about fairies and unicorns.

The Needles

Above a brief forested section settled hail was replaced by settled snow.  Bracing southerly winds encouraged us to make excellent time on the snow-covered descent around the Boiler Plates and up into Stuarts Saddle.  We gazed up at the ominous dark cliffs of The Needles and wondered at how anyone could contemplate the direct ascent mentioned in The Abels as an alternative to the more common sidle around the back.

Mount Hopetoun from Stuart Saddle

The tent platforms offered a salubrious midday lunch venue before we continued through delightful pandani studded forest in a particularly heavy snow shower.  As if right on cue, the snow halted and clouds parted just as we arrived at a clearing which offered superb views of Mount Hopetoun.

Clint at Stuart Saddle

Chapman spends several paragraphs detailing the route as it makes its way among the southern peaks of The Needles.  With heavy snow falling and extremely limited visibility we simply followed the track in front of our noses and, consequently, were quite surprised when Goon Moor suddenly appeared in a break in the clouds.  Within minutes we had arrived at the tent platforms and set about clearing snow ready to pitch our tent.

Goon Moor

Day 10 - Goon Moor to Bechervaise Plateau

The day started with a bleak old trudge over the fan-out section of Goon Moor before a very well formed track led us on a curvy path through The Gables.  Extremely limited visibility and cold conditions encouraged speedy progress through the Four Peaks.  Seemingly vertical walls rising into the cloud all around us made it hard to imagine any way of collecting the multitude of peak bagging points to be gained in this area.

Federation Peak, Devils Thumb, Stegasaurus Ridge and Geeves Bluff from Four Peaks

Right on cue a break in the clouds greeted us as we emerged at the end of Four Peaks. Thwaites Plateau, Devils Thumb and a broody Fedder emerged from the clouds.  Renewed optimism spurred us through the mist on the gradual ascent over Thwaites and we arrived at the Hanging Lake turn-off right on midday.  The snow and ice at the junction guaranteed a Federation Peak ascent would be out of the question.  With children arriving at our place after school in little over 48 hours the question weighing heavily was, 'How would we go on the Southern Traverse in these conditions?'

At Hanging Lake Junction

From Hanging Lake Junction traversing the fan-out section between us and Stegasaurus Ridge was no easy feat.  The visibility was so poor that we could not see from one fan-out marker to the next.  Eventually we located cairns indicating the path ahead.  At the Stegasaurus high point of 1165 metres we were tantalisingly only 60 metres lower than Federation Peak itself but problems were about to set in.  Soon after the high point the route traverses a large boulder above a cliff line which dropped into the swirling cloud between us and Lake Geeves.  With much trepidation we traversed the ice and snow covered boulder only to find an even more daunting descent ahead.  At this point we pulled the pin.  After traversing back over the snowy boulder we took a few deep breaths then scooted back towards Thwaites Plateau.

Looking towards Stegasaurus Ridge - an innocuous start to the Southern Traverse

Devils Thumb

At Devils Thumb we left the track and located the large cairn indicating the start of the Forest Chute, a little-used emergency route between Thwaites and Bechervaise.  As if to taunt us, Federation Peak briefly showed itself as we started the steepest part of our 500 metre descent.  A faint pad existed until the forest was entered from which point it was impossible to discern that anyone had ever passed that way before.

Top of the Forest Chute

Eventually the slope eased but progress was slow due to the multitude of fallen trees, some solid, some completely rotten and unable to support our weight.  In many places the ground was metres below us.  We looked forward to arriving at Lake Gaston where Chapman nonchalantly says we need to, "Pass along the southern shore of the lake..."  How hard could it be?

Federation Peak from above the Forest Chute showing Lake Gaston, the Rock Slide and the cliffy forest on the left where we actually climbed up to Bechervaise Plateau

When the lake appeared through the dense forest there was no easy shoreline to traverse.  The dense forest extended well beyond the shore.  Walking anywhere near the lake meant ominous deep pools of jet black tannin stained water lurked beneath the mossy rotten tree trunks over which we scrambled.  A watery plunge was the last thing we needed.

Forest Chute

Keeping a safe distance from the lake shore the forest opened and, like a beacon in the night, a large cairn appeared beside a torrent tumbling down a steep, rocky bed.  Hoping this was a marker for the long-awaited rock slide we headed up the northern side of the stream.  As the terrain got steeper the scrub got thicker and we had to choose between splashing our way up what was beginning to look like a waterfall or move away from the stream and attempt to find more open climbing in the forest.

Cairn marking a very watery Rock Slide

Moving away from the stream the forest opened ever so slightly.  In several places the mossy ground was close to vertical and the only way to progress was to remove packs, climb the protruding tree trunks like a ladder and pull the packs through narrow gaps behind us.  An hour after leaving the stream bare walls of rock ominously closed in above us and day light was rapidly running out.  Were we even heading towards Bechervaise Plateau?  Was the Rock Slide further around to our left?  Were we heading towards a cliffy dead-end part way up the north face of Fedder itself?

Climbing these trees was one way we ascended the near vertical, mossy slopes

After crawling up a narrowing, mossy ramp between rock faces we were able to climb a rock protruting above the beautiful but suffocating forest which had hemmed us in for the past three hours.  To our delight, in the fading light, we could just make out the ridge ahead of us leveling out.  On our left an adjoining ridge appeared to be scrub free while behind us we could see we had climbed to the same height as our Forest Chute entry.  Below us to the right we could still hear the roar of the stream tumbling down a deep and narrow cleft between us and what must be Fedder's menacing north face.  Was that powerful stream the Rock Slide which was meant to give easier access between the lake and Bechervaise Plateau?

Bedraggled packs tell a story

A nasty, densely scrubby and not-so-minimal-impact traverse to our left delivered us to what was a delightfully scrub free walk of two hundred metres around to the tent platforms at Upper Bechervaise Plateau.  Right on dark, as we cleared snow to pitch the tent, at least some of our questions had been answered.  The roaring stream was indeed the Rock Slide.  We still do not know just how difficult it would have been climbing that route while a snow-melt-powered torrent took the same route in the opposite direction.  Something to investigate another day.  At least we were still on track with our goal to be home by mid afternoon on Day 12.