Attempt on the Mount Anne Circuit: (Pt.5) Escape & Lessons learned

We climbed up to the ridgeline, getting wet and fighting numbness in our feet and hands. 

By the time we had made the ridgeline we were somewhat warmed up by our exertions. Driven by a sense of urgency lest it begin to snow or sleet again, we powered on. 

The view back at the Notch from below Mt Anne

It was rather hair raising crossing the boulder field while snow and ice still remained on the surfaces of the stone. Each footstep and handhold was carefully tested but despite our caution, there were a few near misses. 

After what seemed a long time we reached the safety of the other side. 

With the worst behind us we were able to start enjoying the remainder of the hike.

The views were spectacular.

We planned to stop for a hot lunch at the High Camp hut and the thought of this reward put new energy into us. We began to meet some other adventurers making their way up. We exchanged stories and told of our experience of being snowed in, which they were quite surprised by. Apparently the weather report had made no mention of snow!

When we reached High Camp Hut there were some French hikers there. They were only overnighters staying at the hut and were in the slow process of packing their gear. Because it was rather full, we found a sheltered area on a platform behind the hut and made a hot lunch. By the time we had finished, the loft was vacated and we made ourselves comfortable up stairs, sharing a hot drink, snacks and a nip of Absinthe I had brought with me and of course discussing our adventure.

The downwards journey afforded some wonderful views of Lake Pedder and although we were disappointed that the Mountain had defeated us this time, there was the rousing prospect of returning someday to finish what we had started.

Mount Anne hasn't seen the last of us.

Not by a long shot.

Simon, Tim and Pete.

Lessons learned

There were many lessons learned on this hike which we think worth sharing.

1.       Always carry multiple methods to make fire (e.g. Matches, lighter & flint). You never know when one might fail you. Fire is not a commodity but a necessity and potentially a lifesaver. Carry good quality fire steel – the cheap ones don’t work in difficult conditions.

2.       Always put your sleeping bag in a waterproof bag: A wet sleeping bag is not just uncomfortable, but dangerous. If you are stuck in a storm or snowed in with nowhere to go, your sleeping bag is your safety blanket. Literally.

3.       The importance of gloves: Gloves serve many purposes when hiking, camping and climbing and they hardly take up any space. They protect your hands from abrasive surfaces, creepy crawlies, they insulate against heat and cold and they can provide added grip in certain situations.

4.       Merino thermals are worth their weight in gold: If it hadn’t been for the light merino undershirt and leggings, I would have been extremely uncomfortable and potentially hypothermic. If you are hiking in winter (or in Tasmania) these are a must.

5.       Alcohol Stoves: Alcohol stoves are great in moderate conditions but alcohol does not light well when it is cold and windy. It simply does not evaporate enough to become flammable. I great tip that my doctor passed on to me, is to carry a flask of fuel next to your body which will keep it warm and make it easy to light.

6.       Bring your phone. If you don’t – you will want it.

Attempt on the Mount Anne Circuit: (Pt.4) Snowed In

I was awoken by a startled voice calling out

“Boys, look outside!”

As I unzipped the flap on my bivvy, a white and foreign world came into view. Everything was covered in snow. The puddles of water had turned to ice and a low fog hung eerily across the landscape obscuring most of our surroundings from view.

At first I was in disbelief but this was rapidly replaced with concern. We were not prepared for snow and there would be no chance of getting off the shelf until the snow melted. At this point I uttered something emphatic.

I got up and put on my frozen shoes to attend to urgent business. The air was frigid and my fingers instantly began to numb. I cautiously walked towards the edge of the shelf, unzipped and then began to gracefully slide off the mountain. I instinctively dropped spreadeagle and clutched at anything I could reach. Fortunately some small shrubs halted my fall and I was able to scramble back up and gingerly make my way back to the tent nursing my injured pride.

Yelling between our tents and over the wind we agreed to remain in our tents until the snow began to melt. As if nature was mocking our plans, it then began to snow, sleet, and hail. By now I was beginning to get quite worried. The inside of my tent was full of condensation, my sleeping bag was beginning to get wet and wasn’t providing effective insulation and we had no way of contacting the outside world. One fact that all the reviews agreed upon was the impossibility of climbing the Notch in wet or icy conditions. 

Even if the snow melted and we somehow managed to negotiate the Notch successfully, all our gear was wet and if the foul weather continued there would be no way of drying it. If one of us became injured in the slippery conditions, or started to become hypothermic, we had few options to create heat and the difficulties in lighting our stoves was still fresh in my mind. The remoteness of our location meant that there was no chance of contact with the outside world. I began to pray that we would have an opportunity today to make good our escape.

I woke up to hear one of the boys excitedly announce that the snow was melting and the fog was beginning to lift. It was 10am, meaning that we had been in our tents for nearly 16 hours. We jumped to and quickly packed our tents and equipment away. Tim was having trouble with his fingers and hands becoming numb in the cold. Pete and I had basic gloves that seemed to prevent us losing sensation, so we were able to help out with a few things.

My shoes were full of snow and ice. I knocked out what I could and then devised a plan to put on my dry socks, cover these with plastic bags, and then put on my wet pair. This appeared to work well, keeping my feet dry and warm and adding an extra layer of insulation and grip inside the shoe.

Finally we set out to climb back up to the ridgeline below Mount Anne. 

By now the fog had lifted and the now snow-tipped peak loomed up ahead of us. It was a wet and cold hike but hauntingly beautiful with the melting snow ornamenting the plants and trees.

It was time to make good our escape!

Attempt on the Mount Anne Circuit: (Pt.3) Extreme Weather at Shelf Camp

It was a steep descent to Shelf Camp,

through dwarfed trees and unusual vegetation that appeared almost tropical in its lush foliage.

As we arrived at the Shelf, the rain and wind was now uncomfortably cold and persistent and the idea of trying to set up bivvies and sleeping bags in these conditions seemed foolish. We were confident the weather would clear and so we agreed to climb up towards the cliff face to seek shelter from the driving wind. It was a tough climb, clambering over sharp and slippery boulders with numbing fingers.


When we reached the face, there was no relief and no reward as we found it impossible to find any shelter. The best we could do was to press ourselves against a nook alongside a waterfall and pull our hoods tight.

Eventually the rain slowed and we decided to take the opportunity to make our way back down and begin setting up camp. Tim found that water had leaked into his sleeping bag 
because he had forgotten to put a garbage bag over it, but fortunately it wasn’t too bad. Tim also discovered a decent rip in his shorts which left him pretty exposed. The comic relief was much needed. His face looked pretty battered too.

The tents went up quickly, although there was no way of using tent pegs because of the rock surface.The only way to secure the tent lines was to attach them to rocks. It was quite exposed to the wind and we had all read stories of other hikers losing their tents over the side in the gale-force gusts. I think we all overcompensated by choosing particularly large rocks.

No sooner was the job done, than the wind began to live up to its reputation. It blew. Hard.

By now we were losing hope of the weather clearing today. It was only 4:30pm but compelled by the cold the decision was made to prepare an early hot dinner and retire to our bivvies in the small hope that it would blow over.

Each of us had homemade alcohol stoves – lightweight and effective – at least they were effective in normal conditions. It quickly became apparent that these were not normal conditions. The combination of strong wind and cold made it virtually impossible to light the alcohol or to keep it alight once lit. If you have ever used one of these devices, you know that the stove only begins to operate effectively once it reaches a critical temperature.  Another mistake we had made, which makes me cringe with embarrassment to admit, was that we each had only brought fire steels.

 Pete and I had packed cigarette lighters and matches, but had realised only the day before our flight that we were not permitted to have these even in our checked luggage and we had neglected to purchase any on our arrival. This is a mistake I will never make again.

It took painstaking effort to continue lighting and re-lighting the stove whilst crouching over it to shield the flames from the gusting wind. I began to feel a creeping doubt, a horrible nagging doubt that I might not be able to get this to work. But Pete, good ol' law-breaking Pete, found that he had a box of matches somewhere in his pack after all and with the help of these matches and another 30 minutes or more I was able to get my Mac & Cheese cooked. Pete and Tim had also been successful and were already in their cosy sleeping bags tucking in to some hot food. I quickly did the same and I must say the Mac & Cheese was the best I have ever had.

The weather was unrelenting, and although it was still very light outside we had no option but to bunker down and try to occupy ourselves. I began sorting out the gear in my tent, preparing and organising things. There is only so much organising you can do in such a small tent, and as the wind had only got stronger and the rain was setting in for the evening, I slept fitfully. I was warm enough but the wind was battering our tents and the howling of the wind and the drumming of the rain woke me frequently.

It was a long night.

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.

Attempt on the Mount Anne Circuit: (Pt.1) Planning and Preparation

My cousin and good friend Tim recently moved to Hobart, Tasmania and we had been discussing the need to organise a hiking adventure.  After a lot of research, Tim recommended that we attempt the Mount Anne Circuit in the mountainous wilderness of Tasmania’s South-West wilderness. This circuit is notoriously challenging both for its topography, which is steep, rocky, muddy, and unforgiving, and for its unpredictable and extreme weather changes. Every information guide recommends that the hiker be prepared for any weather conditions, all year round.  I should mention it is also stunningly beautiful. The fact that it was recommended as a 4-5 day hike fit perfectly with our timeline and sealed the deal. We set the date for the Australia Day long weekend and organised to have the Friday off as well to give us a full four days of hiking. It was the height of summer and we expected the weather would be optimal.

For me, a lot of the enjoyment of outdoor adventure is in the planning and anticipation of the event so I immediately set about preparing myself for the challenge.  There were so many considerations for this hike, in terms of gear, food, skill, and physical preparedness. There was the challenge of extreme weather conditions, then the challenge of rock climbing, and the length of the hike (carrying sufficient food and water).

Due to the challenging terrain, we decided to take the minimalist approach to hiking gear and go ‘lightweight’. This entails only taking the minimum of necessary items, and forgoing the luxuries (or most of them).  The theory is that with minimal pack-weight you are free to just enjoy the experience of the hike rather than sweating and groaning under a heavy load. The first step to going lightweight was to begin weighing all my equipment, and tallying up the total weight of my pack. A quick Google search will show you that lightweight hikers go crazy for weighing everything and cutting weight wherever possible, even to the point of trimming excess length from bootlaces or pack straps. I must admit it is addictive once you get started. 

One of the key principles of lightweight hiking is that you should only bring items that serve multiple purposes. For example; A knife can be used for repairs, camp fire preparation, preparing and eating meals, cutting rope, prying or opening things; there is no need to bring a fork and spoon when you can use a Spork that does both etc.  With regard to clothing, the lightweight mantra is “layer”.  This means thinking about each item of clothing as one layer in a system of layers. For example, instead of bringing a really warm jacket that you can only use in sub-arctic temperatures and makes you sweat like a strung-out junkie the moment you move, you bring several layers (a merino under layer, a shirt, a merino mid-layer and a shell rain-jacket). The combination of layers supplies the same warmth, but is much more versatile, and can be varied for many conditions. A good test to layering is that you should be able to wear all the clothing you bring at the same time. This phase of the planning took a lot of forethought and some difficult decision making. A particular struggle for me was the decision to bring a lightweight knife rather than one of my favourite, heavy duty ones. You need to be ruthless.

I also meticulously organised my meals for each day of the trip. I estimated how many calories I required each day and then began to sort out all meals, including snacks, based on a high caloric diet to give Maximum energy for minimum weight. To complete the process, I sealed each day’s food in separate Ziplocs to make it easy to know what food to eat each day during the hike.

I also acquired some new items, including a pack, some lightweight trail runners, and a new cooking pot but I'll post about these later. 

The preparation was done and now it was time for the adventure!