Our Falls Creek drive confirmed that there is no doubt that Liz and winding mountainous roads do not mix. Hotham came off the agenda immediately, but she did agree to make the trip up to nearby Mount Buffalo, a relatively short drive from our Porepunkah base.
The Mount Buffalo National Park is extensive and offers many different experiences for both day trippers and those on extended stays in the various camping grounds. We chose a challenge....let's climb 'The Horn', the highest point on Mount Buffalo. Although this feature is the most distant from the entrance to the park, the relevant brochures promised us unparallelled views over the Victorian Alps as a reward for a 'moderate' climb. At least one aspect of that assurance was correct! And what's a trip up this mountain without a visit to the Chalet?
Our plan for the day was set and we were off. The drive to the park entrance was a doddle...a 100 kph rated road through relatively flat grazing country. But then, as expected, things became a little more challenging as the road narrowed and snaked its way up the side of this very large lump of granite.
Again I'll not challenge your patience with a series of 'us driving up the mountain' shots. Suffice to say this drive was less taxing than that up to Falls Creek, and once we had passed the turn-off to the chalet, we came to what amounts to a mountain plateau where we were again driving on flat ground through a landscape strewn with grey granite boulders and stunted snow-line scrub.
As we made our way further across the mountain we passed Lake Catani. Now I had been this way before on one of my earlier skiing adventures (circa about 1964-5?) and had absolutely no recollection of this beautiful mountain lake. It may well have been frozen and covered with snow, but in any event its location and form did come as a real surprise. Had we had more time in this area this would have been the venue for another day trip and a good solid workout on the kayak.
We later found that this is a very popular camping spot, where the facilities provided are good, the range of activities plentiful and the scenery is wonderful. Next time?
And then, as we rounded a bend we gained the first glimpse of what we suspected was to be our ultimate destination. "Bloody hell, Lizzie....is that a viewing platform right on the top of that peak...surely not." My previously felt enthusiasm for the 'unparalleled views over the Victorian Alps' suffered an immediate setback.
But on the basis of 'nothing ventured nothing gained' we pushed on regardless. Surely it couldn't be that bad. After all the climb is rated as 'moderate with a some steep steps'.
Fortunately I did not have too long to dwell on the potential challenges of our immediate future. A series of hairpin bends in the road demanded full concentration, particularly in the face of several oncoming drivers who took it into their heads that the centre line did not apply to them for some reason.
Within a short distance the bitumen gave out (as the maps had told us to expect). We knew we were still on the right track.
As we negotiated the reasonably steep final climb, our progress was overseen by row after row of rugged rocky ramparts.
And finally, the car park where two things were immediately apparent. Despite our early start we were far from the first up here, and it really is the top of this part of the world.
At the end of the sealed car park area we found picnic facilities and an interesting little stone shelter. This was built by the park management of the time in the late 1930's "for the comfort of tourists and bush walkers". I'm not precisely sure what comfort this exposed edifice provides, but I can attest to the fact that, with its hand hewn granite block and Alpine Ash shingle construction, it does meet the required construction criterion that "it blend in with the rugged nature of the environment".
It was from here that we took in our first views out over the alpine landscape. To my dismay, these were marred to a degree by the ever present haze and cloud, and I have to repeat my comment of yesterday that my photographic reproductions of what we were seeing do not do the scenes justice.
In this particular shot, we have another small interference. A European wasp decided to inspect the lens.
Which leads me to comment on these wretched things. From the time we arrived in Beechworth we realised that they are in plague proportions all though the high country. Their presence in such numbers is apparently a relatively new phenomenon, for reasons none of the locals seem to be able to fathom. Given our experiences in Adelaide with these blights on nature we were exceptionally wary during our initial encounters, but I have to say they did not behave quite as aggressively as we had expected, and after a while (reasonable precautions, like covering exposed drink containers and so on, excepted) we learnt to virtually ignore them.
My initial sense of relief was compounded by the fact that the first section of the steps out of the car park area looked very user friendly, and after all, this was listed as a 'moderate climb' (I kept telling myself!)
Even as the early path gave way to the first of the really rocky steps I was not too concerned.
and this false sense of security continued for some short distance up the trail.
At this point I should add that I was suffering from one of the rotten chest infections which are the blight of my life, so a few rest stops during the ascent were the order of the day, but these breaks did give us the opportunity to gaze out across this seemingly never ending expanse of tumbled rocks and stubby scrub.
Here I must provide another 'editorial comment'. Who ever described this climb as 'moderate' must have inherited the genes of a mountain goat. For much of what lay ahead of us there was the requirement to maintain a firm had grip on whatever might be available. In several sections of the trail hand rails were provided for this purpose.....in others improvisation was the order of the day. In any event, a series of continuing photos was not possible. I've therefore had to resort to a set of 'some going up and some going down' shots to provide some feel for our adventure.
Irrespective of the official rating of this trail, its construction is impressive. I many spots such as this, steps have been cut into the raw granite to assist those making their way to the top. And it was at this point that all upward photography ceased.....
.......from here we fast forward pictorially to the summit where the 'look Mum, we made it' photos were obligatory.
Believe it or not, on the very far, far horizon, behind 'Mr I'm not quite sure how I made it up here, but I'm bloody glad I did not give in', is Australia's highest peak, Mount Kosciuszko.
A very well designed (and very poorly photographed) display board provides all who make it up to this human alpine eerie with an overview of all the relevant mountain peaks within view (on a clear day).
Despite the haze we could make out quite a number of the better known summits....Bogong, Feathertop, Fainter, Hotham Heights and so on. I would like to think that we could see down to the south as far as Mount Buller, but to claim that with certainly in the viewing conditions of the day would be a little fanciful.
Apart from the various mountains, from up here we could see right across the valley road which had brought us to the car park below. What sights these were. This was another of those occasions on which I resolved to equip myself with a far smarter camera.
So rather than focus on a series of distant mountain peaks and ridges, all indistinct in the haze, I have chosen to entertain you from this point with a series of shots of our descent in the hope that our achievement in reaching the summit gains some traction. I should add that much of the surrounding scenery does make for a back drop to many of these photos.
Righto...off we go back, initially
down this well constructed and reasonably benign section immediately below the viewing platform.
Relatively undaunting it may be, but it does go on for a while
and again some of the turns did provide ideal lookouts.
I mentioned earlier that in many spots steps had been cut into the rock. Here is one example of just how much thought has gone into making this trail manageable, particularly when the rock is wet.
From this point on things did get tricky and I hope you may be developing some feel for the fact that on the way up camera action was the last thing on my mind!
But there were still views to be had from behind the comforting security of the safety rail.
And now for the overhang. As you can see, Liz just fits under this leaning rock.....I had to traverse this section almost on all fours
which is probably more understandable looking at it from this lower angle....the edge of the rock and the rail are not widely separated.
Just below the overhand I did stop for one more shot upwards to provide some idea of what confronted us earlier and to further my comments about the thought and effort which has gone into constructing this trail.
Finally, on this the most challenging part of the climb, another two examples of the way in which the rock has been hewn
into steps to allow passage over these otherwise impassable granite mounds.
As with the ascent, we did take a breather or two on the way back to the bottom. At this point I thought this scene just captured it all. How could one possibly improve on this?
Well.............
By now, for us, the worst was over, and as we stood aside to let this group of eager climbers past us on the narrow track, we did delight in maintaining what is an obvious trick of the trail.....an encouraging comment or two. "Not far to go now....it's all worth it". One fib, one truth!
What an incredible morning this had been. We left The Horn thinking that there was a high degree of probability that everything else we did and saw today would be anti-climactic. Fortunately this was not so.
Our first port of call on our way back to the chalet junction was here at what is know as the Cresta Run. This had some slight nostalgic tug for your scribe....this is the slope on which I first made a complete idiot of myself on skis. The old tow line to the top of this very gentle slope is (obviously) still here. It in itself is something quite interesting in that it is the first ski lift to operate in Australia, and is powered by a Cadillac engine of all things!
From the top of this very benign beginners run we could see that the hiking trails below were well populated.
Just beyond Cresta is the second of the two best known runs on this side of the mountain. Dingo Dell is a very popular toboggan slope.
With apologies for the small size (any larger blurred dreadfully) this photo, courtesy of the Victorian Parks website, shows just how different this slope looks in winter.
Apart from its ski fields, lakes, walking trails, creeks and waterfalls, Mount Buffalo is famous for its Chalet, or it used to be. This grand old lady has fallen on hard times. We were off to see what had become of her.
As you can see, we were not alone in this quest.
Looking through the front entrance archway only affords a limited view of this incredible old building, which is, believe it or not, one of the largest wooden structures in Australia (if not the largest)
Obviously there is a real history associated with The Chalet. Having read all the plaques to be found under the front portico I have decided that I could no better than to reproduce them here (after some serious photo cropping!) and allow you to read them for yourselves, just as we did.
Things were indeed 'grand' during this era, as can be seen from this photo of a guest bedroom circa the 1950's.
What a shame this does not still apply! I would be very happy to be 'treated'.
As with many tourism venture, particularly those in which governments are involved,things did not run entirely smoothly at the Chalet,
but there were some periods when this facility really shone.
What a shame.
As an interesting post script to this story, a recent news item on the Victorian ABC carried the story that the tender for the redevelopment of the Chalet and its restoration has now been let and that the commencement of work is imminent. We can only hope this does not fall through.
Let me conclude this walk down memory lane with a couple of photos of what things were like here during the better days of the Chalet, in both summer
and winter.
One of the frustrations of our visit for this amateur photographer lay in the fact that this building is just so huge that it is completely impossible to capture it in its entirety in one shot. This was the best I could do.
And this is only the front. Various other wings extend in all directions to the rear, all of which was blocked off from public access.
The gardens at the front of the Chalet have seen better days but there is no doubting their potential.
One of the reasons folk flocked here during the Chalet's heyday was for the views. These are still on offer and we wandered off past the bottom car park to one of the nearby viewing platforms to make our own judgement.
From here the Ovens Valley opened out below us in a panoramic scene,
and, looking to our right, the steep and forbidding granite cliffs which are a real feature of this mountain were on full show. And then, as I was gazing in this direction I spotted something.......if you look closely you might just make out a red coloured dot at the top of the bluff.
Yes indeed, a group of abseilers who were taking full advantage of the drop below them to engage in this very different Easter holiday pursuit. Good for them, I thought. I would much rather take the roadway to the bottom.
And that's exactly what we did. This had been a fascinating and exhilarating day. We returned to the valley below with a much clearer understanding of what continues to draw visitors to this huge granite mountain all year round.
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