Frankland Range 1998

It all came about when Sue decided to go to the badminton jamboree in Queensland and I thought well maybe I should go for a walk while she is away. Dave Harris and David Hardy expressed an interest and by the time it came around Alan Cross and Robyn Loughhead had joined the party.

On the Friday before departure I looked up the weather on the internet and was quiet elated to see that from Saturday to Tuesday were predicted to be favourable. We left Hobart that first morning in fine conditions and commenced the severely steep climb up from the Serpentine Dam followed by the slow ascent up the muddy Mt. Sprent track. From this high point on the Wilmot Range there was no choice but to lose hight, part of which entails switching ridges and our first real navigation decision. After a short discussion and a quick sight of the terrain we chose to switch over at the lower of the two contenders, which did not cause any problem even though once committed it was apparent that the higher option would have been easier.

Soon after gaining the main ridge top for the range we reached the low point and stopped for lunch, some four hours after commencing walking. From here much of the way ahead, especially through scrubby sections was padded which aided progress up and the many little hillocks each one gradually increasing our altitude. All went well, although when David took a turn at leading he missed the pad and we found ourselves struggling up through button grass on the wrong side of one of the hills. However, whilst nearing Koruna Peak it began to rain and although the first part of the ascent was on a pad of sorts it did not last for all that long and so began a battle with the scrub.

Earlier in the day it was agreed that, instead of dropping below Koruna to Islet Lake, the route we would go over the top of the peak. Alan had been that way many years before and he couldn’t remember anything too bad about it. The previously mentioned pad seemed to drop off the side into thick scrub and Dave Harris after checking it out considered that it did not continue and was just a false lead. On looking up there did not seem to be a suitable route so we dropped back a little and followed Alan steeply uphill through thick, mucky scrub and this was very tiring, made even more so by the consistent rain. The trunks and branches of scrub in some areas, especially the soft bark varieties, become like sponges covered with a mouldy feeling casing, and this rubs into clothes and packs as you push through.

Eventually a high point was reached, but unfortunately the real summit was someway off ahead, down and then up again. As we finally passed just under the top of Koruna an open valley could be seen, but being a little uncertain as to how far it extended in our desired direction, I opted to drop down through the scrub to known territory. I think we were all getting pretty tired by this stage and had noticed Alan looking uncharacteristically drawn as he sat on a rock for a rest. This scrub blocking the way down to a narrow little valley seemed uniform and I could not be bothered searching about for a better way, so just descended straight down only to find that it was steeper, thicker and had numerous little drops. On exiting I also realised that my fingers were very cold.

The little valley had water lying everywhere but there were a few campable spots about and they looked appealing, especially as it was getting pretty dull and late. David was keen to get to the bottom of the valley where we had camped previously and led off. Dave and Alan and Robyn were very keen to camp where we were and it was my poor judgement not to call it a day. In the poor light the pad began to resemble a creek and when David went down over a slippery rock it seemed to be much harder than I could remember. I suggested that this did not seem right and was feeling uncomfortable with the thought of an impending struggling through this in torch light, so started to try to find the pad up on higher ground. By good fortune it did not take long to find and allowed us to get out onto the plain at the bottom of the valley, but it too was very wet and didn’t look inviting at all until a dryish bank beside the creek was found.

Tents were up quickly, although Alan spent a bit of time checking for the best spot remaining. Robyn was so tired she just put her tent up on the opposite side of the valley at the very first campable spot we saw. It was a relief to get the wet coat, overtrousers and boots off and lay in the tent, but it made me realise how tired I was and the thought of the effort to cook was daunting. David offered and I didn’t argue and a mug of soup was soon on the way, however I didn’t feel at all like eating pasta or rice although fruit medley sounded OK.

By morning the rain had ceased and in fact the tents were reasonably dry to pack away. Before we left I did notice that Alan disposed of some pasta that he did not feel like eating the previous evening, so I was not the only one who didn’t feel enthusiastic about it, and comments from Dave and Robyn suggested that neither had much appetite either. I promised that there would be no repeat of such a hard day again.

The remainder of the Wilmot Range is quite attractive, with rounded peaks interspersed with exquisite herby floored valleys. These herbfields were in the main quite flat, like a grassed sporting field from the distance, and the small peaks between not difficult at all. All this lead to a narrowing ridge winding down to join the Frankland Range and although by now some misty clouds were about the spectacular climbing ridge up onto the range was in good view.

The northern edge of both ranges arc round at this point to form an impressive and huge amphitheatre of rocky spires and cliffs towering over thick rainforests; it certainly looked more inviting to follow the ridge line. Shortly after starting the ascent on the distinct track through the thickish scrub a rock had to be surmounted, it was perched right on the cliff edge with a very clear view of a huge drop. I made sure that I had a good grip on the rock with both my hands and boots, for it would only take one slip to a final resting place. We stuck close to the quartzite crags all the way up, as the mist was now restricting visibility considerably, until reaching a final escarpment with a faint view of a lead down onto a fjaeldsmark saddle. Suddenly a faint view behind showed we had bypassed the ridge to our campsite on Coronation Shelf. Dave suggested we avoid backtracking and descend off the side of the escarpment, but it was agreed that the best option was take the known ridge. It was fortunate that we did, for once we did get there the other option looked horrendous. Getting down the regular way was not without complications, as the pad I was following seemed to cease near a small bluff; out came the map and we searched about before David established that the route was right in front of where I had stopped in the first place. After setting up tents, it was down to cooking a meal, although Robyn who hadn’t been to the top of Coronation Peak was keen to go up even if it was enveloped in mist; she tried to persuade David to accompany her, but I think it was the thought of a meal that was more appealing, so she set out alone and was rewarded with the mist briefly clearing.

Our third day dawned quite promising and as it progressed the sun began to have a comforting warmth, the air still and the sky increasingly blue. The previous day was harder than I had remembered, but the section from Coronation to Citadel Shelf stood in my mind as an extremely pleasant and easy walk along Madonna Ridge. Well it is indeed majestic walking along this dramatic escarpment with constant cliff top views down to Sanctuary Lake, but getting to there and beyond was considerably more difficult and rugged than my memory.

First up came three crags, the first of which was scrambled over and the others sidled, which was a much easier proposition, then came the climb to Double Peak and following on the descent around a bluff, several scrambles around minor turrets until after close on to three hours we were finally able to enjoy the easier part of Madonna Ridge. Steady upward walking brought us over Redtop Peak and onto a saddle looking down on the dazzling flat and The Cupola. This large flat area of cushions and herbs has a little stream cutting through and in contrast The Cupola is a fairly mundane looking mound. However, the views from The Cupola are striking as it sits out from the part of the range we had just traversed and provides an excellent perspective of the jagged ridges and peaks.

Dave Harris was very keen to climb The Lion, being the only named peak on the Frankland that he hadn’t ascended and a further half hour brought us onto the high moorland, known as Lion Moor and beyond it The Lion itself. From the moor lay one of the most majestic scenes on the range, for laying below was a lake held back by an enormous quartzite wall then beyond this the sharp little peaks culminating in The Citadel and on the horizon the many other mountain tops making up the eastern end of the Frankland Range. The lake is aptly name The Moat and above it the shelf that was to be our campsite for the next two nights could clearly be seen. Alan was troubled by a tendon and decided to continue on whilst the rest of us headed for The Lion. We walked under a side wall then ascended up a scrubby little defile onto what proved to be a sharp crest. I searched about for the easiest way, but eventually followed the others and at one point stopped with a foot on each side of a long drop. I felt that the previous ascent was easier than this, thought about the consequences of a stumble and then found it harder to continue on. Prior to reaching the top a more congenial approach could be discerned, which was most likely used last time.

After a brief scanning of the scenery I decided to descend, along with Dave, who remarked that I was very quiet. As it turned out my toe was rubbing and causing me to feel irritated and worried that it would provide trouble ahead, so I had to admit to this; although this was also admitting to neglecting to taking adequate prevention earlier in the day. The descent was easier and, after a final fond look at the vista from the moor, the packs were on and the final section of the days walk commenced.

I knew the pad from here to Citadel Shelf had a couple of tortuous parts and can distinctly recall coming up to a small saddle with views down onto The Moat. As we could not see any pad David tried on a rocky crest and eventually found some cairns, but the way through seemed unduly scrambly, but there didn’t seem to be any marked alternatives. It took and hour and a half to get to camp and the shelf had well and truly lost the sun by then. I was anxious to enquire from Alan of his approach, but it turned out to be very similar to ours, he said he looked up to see us on the skyline at the same spot that he had been, so again my memory had painted an easier picture than was the reality.

Citadel Shelf is truly a lovely place to stay and it was our fate to spend the next day there as frequent showers persisted for most of the day, interspersed with breaks which allowed us out of the tents for short spells. The shelf is reasonably protected from the worst of the wind although the tea trees and Baeckea bushes are considerably bent from the forces unleashed at these altitudes. Conditions would have to be atrocious not to appreciate this spot though. A small creek cuts the shelf, it is herby and pretty and has a backdrop the huge cliffs of The Lion and on the other flank lies The Citadel and immediately below is The Moat. In fine weather all this glistens and in the frequent mist takes on a moody atmosphere.

Our intent had been to visit Murphys Bluff whilst based at Citadel Shelf, but even with the lost day it was still quite feasible to go there on our return day to Coronation Shelf. However frequent rain overnight persisted into the morning, even though there were periods of better weather. It was during on of these breaks, with some blue sky and sun that it was agreed to pack up and head for Coronation in case things really got bad. For a while it wasn’t too bad at all and we managed to find a somewhat easier way around the peaks to Lion Moor. However for the next few hours considerable rain fell, including during a wet lunch break behind a large rock; and standing up getting a meal together and eating it is not particularly pleasant under these circumstances.

As we closed on Double Peak the rain was particularly heavy. A rocky obstruction presented itself and I spotted what looked to be a possible route onto the other side and set off to check it out. Robyn followed and it did lead up and onto higher ground, but visibility and sound were markedly reduced by the rain and we could not tell whether the others were following. Eventually I heard, but couldn’t see them; whilst Robyn who is hard of hearing but has better vision than me spotted them, but couldn’t hear anyone.

Conditions improved during the remainder of the day and walking became pleasantry and the views were once again able to be enjoyed. Morning on Coronation Shelf produced patches of blue and misty clouds boiling through the gaps between the peaks. Soon after departure the scenery demanded a photograph or two and on reaching the high point of our days journey we rested and enthused over the resplendent peaks of the range receding into the eastern horizon. Our location was on a herby little shelf with a deep forested valley below and mist shrouded cliffs stretching on towards the Wilmot Range. The breeze was blocked off, the sun had Spring warmth and the mist continually rearranged the atmosphere and I guess this what encouraged Dave to state that this made it all worthwhile.

Just before the last hill for the day was reached there was some discussion about avoiding it and dropping through a valley. David was keen so we moved in that direction, but on closer inspection some hesitation arose and it appeared that David may have been annoyed at this as he suddenly changed direction and to the hill. Camp was reached soon after 4pm and for the first time on the trip we weren’t blocked off from the sun and had the pleasure of cooking and eating in mellow evening sun. Despite this David restated that he would not be returning to the Frankland Range except by boat and as far as I could gather Dave and Robyn weren’t keen to return. Although it is not an easy trip, even though with time my memory starts to forget this, it is a mountain range of such grandeur that I long to return.

We packed for the last time and walked up the valley towards a very misty Korunna Peak. On getting closer the mist was producing quite a bit of moisture and I was glad the we hade decided to return via Islet Lake. Or at least I thought we had agreed, because as we started to descend Robyn wondered why we weren’t going over the peak. In fact she became very angry at this because she wanted to score the points for getting to the top. It transpired that Dave was also not aware of the decision so I must have been a bit lax in not making it clear, although Robyn is hard of hearing and may have present when it was discussed. The top was completely obscured by the mist and it wasn’t particularly pleasant where we were let alone on top, but this didn’t lessen her anger. I found this hard to understand and felt stunned by the ferocity, so indicated that she was welcome to go that way herself and meet us at the low point of the range. Alan thought this would be unwise and I was much relieved when Robyn declined.

A pad went beyond Islet Lake then petered out so we just walked down the slope to a valley and went up a ridge to get back on the crest. This initially presented quite a bit of thick, wet scrub compounded by steepness, but by the time we made it the sun was back out. The day continued to improve and we moved freely along the range where the many little patches of Euphrasias looked delightful and were certainly the only flowers out that could be easily spotted. On approaching Mt.Sprent I suggested sidling on the western slopes and to avoid he climb over the summit, but this seemed to go on for quite a distance and we eventually abandoned this idea and returned to the track.

The descent was memorable for two reasons. One being that the pad being followed petered out, which meant all five of us didn’t notice where the main route split off and the was the amount of mud on the lower part of the track. Going up we managed to avoid the worst of it, but this was much more difficult going downhill and was somewhat unpleasant after being on mud free terrain for so long.

The walk commenced on Saturday 10th October and finished on Friday 16th. The party was Alan Cross, David Hardy, Dave Harris, Robyn Loughhead and Peter Franklin