Attempt on the Mount Anne Circuit: (Pt.2) The Beginning of the Adventure

The beginning of the adventure

We left early on the Friday morning and had an uneventful flight over the Tasman and landed in lush green Hobart. Tim met us at the airport, and after some very manly backslapping, we set off in high spirits for the drive to Mount Anne. Hobart is a quaint little city – a mixture of modern, industrial and historical buildings which the road quickly left behind as we drove out into beautiful farmland. I noticed that the countryside had a distinctly Tasmanian feel to it – something more green, fresh, and timeless. It was surprising how quickly the sense of remoteness crept in to the scenery, as roads pushed through dark forests with no driveways or side roads for mile upon mile and then opened out into valleys surrounded by mountains as far as the eye could see.

After a few hours we were close to our destination. We turned off onto Scott's Peak Road and descended the gravel road where tall rainforest eventually opened out into marshland with Lonely Mountain coming into view. As we arrived at the car park, there were a few small cars there – possibly rental cars by their appearance. It was lightly misting with rain and some ominous clouds were hovering about but nothing could dampen our enthusiasm as we put on our packs. Besides, the weather forecast had warned us to expect “rain clearing in the afternoon”.

 Our plan for the first day was to hike up to the hut, where we would have our lunch, and then to continue on towards Mount Anne to set up camp at the Shelf Camp for the first night. The following day we would attempt the summit of Anne and then continue on through the infamous Notch.

We set off across the button grass plains feeling like intrepid explorers. Brave. Strong. Unstoppable. Tim was wearing some rather flimsy nylon shorts that rode fairly high, which gave Pete and me some cause for amusement. I noticed there were rather a lot of large mosquitoes around and I wondered aloud how many mosquitos must die without ever having tasted blood. This apparently gave Tim great cause for mirth. So we were even. Everything was back in balance.

The hike up the mountain was marked with interesting, charming, and beautiful sights wherever the eye wandered. We passed another hiker on the way up, as he came down. He looked in his mid-50s, with burnt brown skin and well-worn clothing. He told us he had hiked the circuit in reverse and was on the home stretch. He looked skywards at the gathering clouds and commented that it was none too soon.

After we passed the hut, a lovely stone building built in memory of a fellow hiker, the trail became steep and involved some scrambling.

The rain had set in too. By the time we had reached
the summit of the first rise, the rain was horizontal and
driving into our faces.

The rain was unrelenting and made surfaces slippery. Crossing the expanse of boulder fields required constant vigilance to avoid stepping into a crevasse. Despite the obstacles we made excellent progress and in the early afternoon we had reached the ridgeline below the Mount Anne summit. We determined that if the weather cleared we might make an attempt on the summit today but in the meantime we would descend to Shelf Camp and set up our bivvies.