Date: 31st December, 2014
Distance: 5.6 km
Time: 2 hours
It may not have been raining, but it wasn't looking particularly pleasant either when I finally dragged myself out of the tent this morning. Dad had been out a little earlier, hanging out a selection of his soggiest clothing on a line to dry in the ferocious wind (though to what degree of success I'm not sure). In any case, thoughts of pushing on to Mt Rufus or anywhere other than directly back the way we came were quickly dismissed.
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| Delicious drinking water lapping on the shores of Shadow Lake |
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| Mountainline across Shadow Lake, from near our camp |
We weren't really sure what to expect on our return trip to Cynthia Bay this morning, having sloshed through ankle-deep water for much of yesterday. We were pleasantly surprised to find the water levels had dropped considerably. Most of the time we could even see the path.
The weather slowly clearing up, I was able to appreciate some of the interesting plantlife that was completely ignored during all the water sliding yesterday.
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| Sunny times on the shores of Lake St Clair. Looking back towards Mt Rufus and where we were camped last night |
A quick inspection of my boots revealed most of the rope had disappeared underfoot somewhere along the track - quite possibly carried away into the bush by one of the torrential streams we walked through yesterday. My feet were terribly blistered (not to mention two numb toes) and no amount of shoe glue, tape or rope was going to prolong their life any further.
I had to accept that my first pair of hiking boots had hit the track for the last time.
I must say a word or two here about my boots. Since April 2009 they have carried me across countless miles through all my bushwalking journeys. When I marched to the summit of Mt Barney all those years ago, making a good test of them on their first outing, I had no idea I'd still be lacing them up 5 1/2 years on.
Many of my fondest memories during this time were made while I stood in these boots.
They took me to the summit of Mt Kilimanjaro. They were tied to my feet for two weeks in New Zealand. For two months in South America. They survived all the hiking I did in south east Queensland - from perilous river crossings to challenging rock climbs and countless other difficulties. When darkness fell they carried me on or carried me out. They kept me moving for 8 days in Tassie in 2011, and again for 5 days in 2014 - their last campaign.
Such faithful service is rare these days. In a world where it seems new accessories are expected to survive only as long as the first drop, scratch or bump, where yearly replacements are the norm and long-surviving contraptions an exception, it is refreshing and deeply endearing to have upon oneself a pair of sturdy boots that can be trusted to deliver in any situation thrown at them.
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| My boots in brighter times (actually just 2 days prior - but they look brand new!) |
Given my longstanding affiliation with the boots, it is a little surprising to realise I also still wear the same shirt, shorts, socks and carry the same day pack as I did when I climbed Mt Barney way back in 2009. Despite their best effort, the boots were the first to die. Maybe all my gear just really like me a lot.
It seemed quite fitting for me to say farewell to the boots at the end of another great adventure. Pine Valley was a beautiful place, and although we were beset by some rough weather (by our standards, at least), we were still able to enjoy 5 full days of Tasmanian wilderness and explore the rugged Labyrinth plateau - home to a spectacular and unique landscape - under fine conditions. Hopefully I'll make it back again to conquer more of Tasmania's mountains.
Day 4 - Echo Point to Shadow Lake
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