Perfect timing: a window of wintry weather in Tassie's wondrous Walls of Jerusalem

360 panorama. North is in the centre, south on the outsides.
King Davids Peak in the left foreground (Cradle Mountain is behind this), then (moving left):
Barn Bluff (distinct, nipple-looking peak),
Mt Pelion West (pyramid),
Pt Pelion East and Mt Ossa (highest in Tassie),
then (I don't know the exact order) Mt Massif, Mt Geryon, The Acropolis, DuCane Range.
From the right of the photo, Frenchmans Cap can just be seen in the background above the Lake Ball.

I could hardly believe it. There was a tiny window of ideal conditions and we found ourselves right in the middle of it...

Last week I led an Outdoor Ed hike within the Walls of Jerusalem National Park in central Tassie. The forecast was for snow down to 300m on Wednesday, Day 1. The snow was to fall all Tuesday night, through Wednesday and that night, then clear to a fine and sunny Thursday and Friday as a high pressure system moved over Tasmania.

Climbing onto the plateau in the late morning: a rare break in the clouds

We walked all day under grey skies, in the wind and falling snow, reached camp at 4:30 and then had to clear snow off the tent pads.

Cooking tea under the tarp. It is snowing outside.

We awoke on Thursday morning (after a -5 degree night) to bright sunshine, blue skies and knee-deep powder snow.

Cooking and eating brekky. The discussion seemed to revolve
around how stupendous the day ahead looked and
how cold our feet were in our frozen boots.

Once the snow had been brushed off our tents and our boots had been defrosted, our day walk took us several kilometres into the Inner Walls area, all the while wading through the pristine white cover on the landscape.

Pencil pines. Large ones can be over 1000 years old.

Lunch was at the Pool of Bethesda, a small lake tucked away about 100m from the main track.
Completely iced over.

The going was treacherous in places! Miss your step by a few centimetres and you'd get wet! The best thing was to frantically kick your boots in the powder snow to to freeze the water on your boot so it didn't seep in.

Essential gear: walking poles, gaiters, map, compass and goggles.
Sunscreen was applied 3 or 4 times that day, and we still burned.

Our goal: the peak called Solomons Throne...

...but where exactly, under that half a metre of snow, was the track?

The snow got deeper as we headed up the mountainside
(fortunately without our packs, which were left at the junction)...

...and deeper
(these poles are nearly a metre tall)...

...and deeper!
The only part of this pole visible was the square of the top.

About to head into the chute (second drift from the right) on the final push to the summit.

2-metre deep drift in the final chute!
Combined with the 45-degree slope, this was almost impossible to ascend.

North is over King Davids Peak (LHS of photo). We walked in following the lower slopes of the West Wall, between King Davids Peak and the teardrop-shaped Lake Salome.

A second cold night (estimated at -8) meant that the next morning, lying on my back in the tent, I breathed out, then a second or so later my frozen breath fell back to my face as tiny ice crystals, tickling my skin. However, once more we had a magnificent sunny day for the walk out to the bus.

We passed this small lake on the walk out. Have a look at the ripples. They were actually not moving. Yes, the lake had frozen mid-ripple.

We had a great time breaking chunks of ice off the surface and skimming them ice-hockey-puck style across the lake. That chunk is between 2 and 2.5cm thick.

I've been buzzing since this trip!

Wandering: Cradle Mountain in the snow...

Recently several cold storm fronts crossed the west coast of Tassie, bringing about 200mm of rain with them. Stupendously, one of my Outdoor Ed class' day trips coincided with the end of this succession of fronts. We were hoping to find some snow as preparation for a 3-day camp in September, but were amazed by just how much there was.

Most of the ground was under about 50cm of snow, and pools had started to freeze over

It's easy to see why Crater Lake was so named

The main aim of the trip was to spend the whole day in the snow, experiencing and learning to deal with the cold conditions before camping for two nights in similar conditions. As such, the class needs to be able to cook in the snow, so we chose a likely spot for lunch: the Boatshed at Crater Lake.

Old man's beard growing on the old boards of the boatshed

Mutiny! After lunch, 9 of the 11 students had a confab and decided they wanted to walk back to the bus;
we were only halfway through the day by that stage...

Walking a little beyond Crater Lake took us over the high point for the day and down the other side of Wombat Peak. After another extended stop, this one for snow shelters and a snowball fight, everything went still and very quiet...and the snow began falling. And kept falling. For the next hour and a half.

Lake Lilla and, beyond, Dove Lake

A light dusting on the shoulder and pack... 

Gaby, the second adult on the excursion, arriving at the lookout over Wombat Pool 

The troops at the Wombat Pool lookout

Gratuitous inclusion: a pic of a solid piece of kit. *Moment of appreciation*

Descending to Wombat Pool

Wombat Pool with a slurry of floating ice

It was a privilege having such great conditions on the day. I can't wait to do this again.

It's not every day you find a bandicoot in the chook shed...

So there I was, going to lock up the chooks for the night. As I walked through the door to check for eggs, a brown shape darted back and forth across the floor. Turns out it was this guy (the small furry one):

I've seen two bandicoots here in the last year, but never been able to get this close. He sat in my arm, without moving, for the ten minutes it took to carry him to the house to show Mel and my parents, then return him to the paddock where he made his way back into the darkness.

Cradle Mountain Father-Son Adventure!

What an adventure!

On Friday night at the end of June, Mr T and I went on a father-son trip to the slopes of Cradle Mountain in central Tassie. We took off from home just after 5 in the evening and, an hour later in Burnie, enjoyed the first highlight: tea at the Golden Arches. By 8:30 we parked the car and started to get our packs on. It was very dark. And cold! Mr T was rugged up and equipped with his headtorch, so he was excited!

The only light to guide us was the spill of our torches, but it was more than enough. We strolled side-by-side on the boardwalk, passing a grazing wombat at one stage who was (almost) ignoring the passers-by. Crossing bridges over dark streams running below, I wondered how this was going to be processed by Mr T in the light of day: tonight it was all just noise in the inky blackness; tomorrow it would be filled with light and a greater perspective would come.

It only took us 40 minutes to get from the car to the Scout Hut: 2.2km of uphill walking, 180m vertically on uneven track in the dark. I was impressed! First priority: kettle. Then, after changing out of our slightly wet gear (it drizzled, the whole area was wet from rain and Mr T fell over at one stage), the water was hot for a milo. Then it was sleeping bag time. He took a while to stop talking (about anything and everything!), but once he was quiet he was out like a light.

The Scout Hut

 It was a cold night! We awoke to fog swirling around the hut and we couldn't see more than about 20-30 metres from the window. However, throughout the morning it cleared and we were able to see quite a distance by the time we left.

Morning fog

We took a slightly different route back to the car, allowing us to visit Crater Lake and Crater Falls on the way.

Old bridge on the detour to Crater Lake

Crater Lake Boat Shed

We walked in great weather all the way back to the car, and the rain just started to fall again as we closed the car doors to drive away. By the time we got within a few hundred metres of the car, Mr T started to mention how tired he was and how his legs were tired.

Part of the track. The car is at the far end of the snaking track in the valley.

What a trooper!

Lovely weather for ducks...but toxic weather for camping!

Last week I had the pleasure of taking a group of students on a hike in the northwest of Tassie.

It's called Mt Hazelton. It's the green arrow on the map and it seems there's not much around.

The top blue marker on the map (I couldn't figure out how to delete the bottom one) is the closest weather monitoring station at Luncheon Hill.

Mt Hazelton is shrouded in mist above the rolling peaks at the left of this picture. As we walked the weather grew steadily colder, wetter and windier until, in the final saddle before the peak, things looked more like this:

This was before the predicted front was to arrive, bringing with it strong southwesterly gusts and much rain. We were to camp in this saddle, but it faced southwest and would have funneled the wind straight into the tents. So we abandoned the attempt at the peak and dropped back to a more sheltered altitude and terrain.

We had no option but to seek shelter in the lee of a ridgeline. Because of this, there was no open grass and our camp was in the scrub. Tents pitched, we set about getting our tea ready. To give an indication of the tent site, this was the view from my tent door, and yes, that is my coffee hidden at the bottom of the stove...

Between pitching tents at 5 pm and taking them down at 8:30 am, Luncheon Hill had 21.5 mm of rain. At 8:20 pm the wind gusted at 82 km/h. It would have been similar a few kilometres away at our campsite. In total, 28.5 mm of rain fell in the 25 hours we were away from our vehicles.

The following day was much brighter and, apart from a couple of hail showers, was a much more pleasant day for walking.

Mt Hazelton remains elusive. Perhaps next time.

If you love one another...

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

    -Jesus in John 13:34-35

Jesus spoke these words to the eleven disciples during the Passover meal after Judas had left. How often do we focus on the "everyone will know" section of these verses? But this isn't a command to go and love the world.

Did Jesus say it's our church programs that will attract the world? What about our exciting services, our church lunches or even our prayer meetings? No.

The key to help the world understand that Jesus is real is for Christians to be united in love for other Christians. That means actively defending each other. Praying for each other. Not making our disagreements public.

If we can't genuinely love other Christians, how can we profess to love the world?
If we can't genuinely love other Christians, how attractive will Jesus be to the world?

Are we remembering?

It occurred to me today that I take so much for granted with regard to the freedoms we have in Australia. I don't think about it often, and for that reason I am so glad that Sunday is Remembrance Day. Once of the themes of the day is that our freedom as a nation is due in no small part to the fact that men and women gave their lives, and I am the beneficiary of that.

This morning I heard that these people went to war without knowing me or my family. There is nothing that I could have done to make myself appeal to them, that would cause them to go for me directly. Yet they went, and I am better off for it. Surely the least I can do is remember that.

Yet the heroes of wars, past and present, are not the first to die for my benefit. There is another who, with my benefit directly in his mind, laid down his life for me. Jesus went to the cross, knowingly, willingly, as a perfect substitute for me. I should have been there. That was my fate. To die. Because I've turned away from God and tried to do things my own way, my payment was to be spending eternity paying off my choice to go my own way. Separated from God.

However, before I'd done anything to even start to think about turning in God's direction - long before I was even alive - he took the initiative. He made the way for my debt to be cancelled. Forever. It was in the form of his son, Jesus, dying in my place so that I no longer had to pay for my sin. It was all done without me having to approve anything, work for it, strive for it, make resolutions about it or burn myself out trying. I had no part in any of the solution.

All I have to do is accept that I have turned from God to try things my way. That makes me a sinner, and I have to face that fact.
Then, I have to acknowledge that Jesus' death on the cross was God's way of providing a substitute - a sacrifice - for my sake.
I have to ask Jesus to live in me. To change me, my attitudes and selfish claims to my own life. I need to make him not my first priority, but my only priority. Let him choose the direction of my life.
Finally, I have to live life. With Jesus at the helm, not me. It is the least I owe him, given that he gave his perfect life for me.

Can I do it? No. As soon as I try to do it, I fail. Why? Because it's in the me trying that my problem lies. So each day I ask that he guides me and shows me the way I should live for that day.

So, as a result, remembrance day is everyday. While I appreciate - and don't for a second minimise - the sacrifice of the Diggers who gave their all for us, every day I remember the sacrifice of one who is perfect. For my benefit.

And I am glad.