Open Writing

A few years ago I joined a group of travellers for a weeklong trip through the Snowy Mountains area of New South Wales. The highlight of our week was the day we travelled by chairlift from Thredbo village to the topmost station.

I am no hero, and I found the experience quite scary at first as the earth seemed to disappear beneath me. However, once I became accustomed to the sensation I was able to appreciate the views all around me.

As we neared top station a recorded voice instructed us to lift the safety bar and as the chair slowed to get ready to alight by stepping onto a coir mat which appeared on the ground in front of us, and then to walk straight ahead ¾ all this with the chairs still moving, albeit at a very slow speed.

I remembered my mother’s instructions when I was a young schoolgirl and travelling to school by tram, “Always wait until the tram has stopped completely before getting off.” And here was someone telling me to get off this moving chair at the top of a mountain!

I knew I wouldn’t be able to do it. But if I didn’t get off, I would just be carried down the mountain again and then back up again and on and on until I summoned the courage to get off this moving thing. So I’d better do it right first time.

So, with my heart in my mouth, I did as I was told and found myself standing in the top station terminal with a vista of mountains spread before me.

On this crisp, clear morning it was a wondrous sight, and we were going to walk six kilometres to the summit of Mt. Kosciusko, at 2200 metres Australia’s highest mountain. In some mountainous countries Kosciusko would be regarded as a mere hill, but Australians speak of it with pride as “our highest mountain.” For us it could just as well be Mt. Everest.

The walk from top station to the summit was surprisingly easy. In order to protect the fragile native grasses and herbs from the hordes of pounding feet that walk the track each summer, an extruded metal walkway has been constructed just above the track. When this was first put in place some thirty years ago, a National Parks ranger referred to it as “the world’s longest barbecue”, but now with the passage of time the grasses and other small plants have grown up through gaps in the walkway, thus greatly improving its appearance.

As we walked along the walkway we had time to admire the many flowering plants which at this time of the year were in full bloom wherever we looked. There were bright yellow billy buttons, their round heads nodding cheekily in the breeze. Everywhere there were clumps of white snow daisies, their grayish green leaves covered underneath by white silky hairs, giving the ground a silvery appearance.

The bright pink trigger plants each waited expectantly for an insect to visit in search of nectar. When an insect lands on a flower, it triggers the stamen to spring out and dust the insect’s back with pollen, which will then be carried to another trigger plant flower. Loveliest of all are the fragile looking mountain gentians, their translucent white petals delicately patterned with purple veins.

After four kilometres of easy walking the walkway came to an end and we reached Rawson’s Pass. Here a number of portable toilets had been set up to cope with the influx of visitors who walk this route each summer. These toilets, although necessary to protect the fragile environment, are a real blot on the landscape. Flies, which are ever present in this area in the warmer months zoomed around the toilets in a black cloud and took advantage of walkers’ backs to gain a free ride to the summit.

From this point a stony track, quite steep in sections, leads to the summit of Mt. Kosciusko, which is something of a disappointment to those expecting an obvious pointed craggy top. For here the summit is gently rounded and only the construction of trig point gives an indication of the highest point.

From here one can feast one’s eyes on the panorama of mountain ranges stretching as far as the eye can see. To the north there is a mountain which appears to be higher than Kosciusko. This is Mt. Townsend, only about 12 metres lower then Kosciusko, but because of its craggy summit it appears to be higher.

It would have been pleasant to sit on the summit and enjoy the peaceful vista of nature’s grandeur. But this walk to the summit has become so popular that it was difficult to find even a small piece of earth where one could sit and drink in the mountains’ beauty.

Eventually it was time to retrace our steps and face the return trip to the chairlift. This time I was prepared for the ordeal of getting off a moving vehicle and was able to achieve the task without difficulty.

It had been a perfect day, and it left me with the firm conviction that as Australians we must do everything in our power to protect our unique natural environment. Had I not already been a ‘greenie’ at heart, this would have been the moment of my conversion.