Federation Peak

Including Geeves Gully, Chockstone Gully, Hanging Lake and Federation Peak Summit.

Date: 19th January 2022 - Summit: 1225m

Photo credits: Ben Wells, Becca Lunnon, Simon Kendrick, Jess McDonald, Tess Kendrick, Timothy Hoban and Jane Berriman.

The time had come to summit my most feared mountain. It’s fair to say that for most Abel baggers - whether they want to admit it or not - Federation Peak is the proverbial elephant in the room. Always looming large in the back of your mind, waiting for you to attempt the climb onto her back. Or is that face? Sheer vertical walls of quartzite surround all sides of her peak. Mountaineering legend has it that Sir Edmund Hillary declared Federation Peak as Australia's only ‘real mountain’, despite its diminutive 1225m elevation.

Note: A fall from “Fedders” can and has had dire consequences for climbers both historically and in the recent past. For this reason it should not be attempted lightly. And remember: what goes up, must come down - with the descent generally considered much more challenging.

Bender and I were to join six other experienced walkers from the Pandani Bushwalking Club for a trip to Federation Peak. Simon was our trip leader and I would follow him anywhere, such is my confidence in his years of experience and his leadership style.

Trust is a HUGE part of any Federation trip and I trust Simon. I also trusted every single other member in the group, even the three I hadn’t personally walked with yet. How could I trust those, you ask? Well simply, Simon would not risk anyone being on a trip that didn’t deserve to be there.

Our multi day trek would also include the Southern Traverse out to Hanging Lake. We had allowed six days for the trip, just in case typical south-west Tasmanian weather prevented a summit attempt on our ‘first’ planned summit day. Having some wiggle room in your plans is key to successful trips in the south-west, as the weather will often play havoc with rigid, inflexible schedules. This is likely part of why it is said that about half of all visitors to Federation Peak don’t make the summit ascent.

For those confident in rock scrambling and basic climbing with a large multiday pack, I would highly recommend a night spent at Hanging Lake, quite possibly the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen anywhere in the world! If hauling a loaded pack up, down, up and down (again) some of the deepest gullies in Tasmania doesn’t float your boat however, then a summit attempt can be made as a long day walk from camp at Bechervaise Plateau.

We began our adventure at the carpark at Farmhouse Creek…

Ben and I were the only two of the group coming from Launceston. The trailhead at Farmhouse Creek is a solid 2.5 hours’ drive from Hobart (West Picton Road is rough gravel, full of washouts and seemingly goes on forever) meaning about 5 hours-plus driving for us, so we decided a trip down the afternoon before and car camping that evening was the go.

The overflow carpark was not the most scenic place in the world, but nevertheless was a lovely way to spend an evening. We even cooked bacon and eggs for breakfast in the morning as the others were arriving at 9am. A luxurious and late start for us.

Let’s get the Federation elephant out the room.

In the interests of transparency, I should admit that I actually didn’t sleep well the night before we set off. Not because of our campsite, but rather I hadn’t been sleeping well for weeks leading up to our attempt at Federation Peak. I’ve got a fear of heights and exposure - and an overactive imagination!

Those things don’t couple well when you are planning a Fedders ascent. Mind you, looking at scary pictures and videos constantly wasn’t helping either! I had thought it would help “desensitise” me, but all it did was get me more worked up! I had knots in my stomach, my palms would sweat the moment I started thinking about our plans, and often felt on the verge of a panic attack. I was really doubting myself.

I had come very close to deciding to not bother with the summit itself, or even pull out of the trip altogether, before a fellow walker very generously spent time chatting with me on the phone about her recent summit experience and what she found helpful. Like me, she was both height conscious and height impaired (read: a shorty!). Her advice and encouragement calmed me enough that I started to finally feel a little excitement mixed in with my trepidation.

The one piece of advice that she shared with me that I feel should be passed on - if you don’t feel confident of your abilities on the day, simply don’t do it.

The mountain will always be there. Go away, get more experience, work on your fears if necessary and revisit it when you’re feeling comfortable. Not only is it perfectly OK to do that, but you’re the better bushwalker for it.

Otherwise you are only putting yourself and the others in your walking party at risk. All mountains in Tasmania have their dangers and risks, but Federation Peak has its reputation for good reason. The exposure is massive, and the risk of serious injury or even death is very real.

After chatting with her, I was content that if I truly didn’t want to summit on the day, I would sit it out and comfort myself with a can of Coke while the others climbed!

Day 1 - Farmhouse Creek to Cutting Camp.

The rest of our starting crew were delayed a little (apparently Google Maps thought West Picton Rd was good for 80kmh, LOL!) so Ben and I had some time to wander around the start of the Farmhouse Creek Track, taking a few photos and generally milling about. Our plan was to walk from the trailhead to South Cracroft River camp approximately 8.7km along the track and spend our first night there.

As soon as the guys arrived - Simon, Jess, Tess and Jane - we saddled up and set off. The day was already warming up significantly and it was only 10am. We would be meeting up with Becca (aka Rock Monkey Adventures) and Tim at Cutting Camp the following day, as they were taking an extended itinerary to climb some other peaks in the area, namely Mt Hopetoun and the Crest Range.

It would be fair to say that other than Bender, Becca and Tim, the remaining five of us each had mixed feelings of excitement and apprehension about summiting the mightly Federation Peak. But for now, we had three days of walking to get there first before worrying about climbing - or so we thought! The climbing fun actually starts much sooner at Moss Ridge.

Our packs were heavy with safety gear and a week’s worth of food, but our legs fresh and thoughts of a wonderful adventure ahead propelled us along the initial stages of the Farmhouse Creek track. It was easy walking, not entirely mud-free or unobstructed by fallen timber, but more pleasant than the image the track’s rough reputation had painted in my mind.

Pretty green forest lined the track and I was grateful for the shade it provided us. The track wove in and out from the creek, it providing much of the background soundtrack over our group’s excited natterings. The heat of the day was already making regular refills from the creek a necessity.

I loved wandering along, chatting to everyone and particularly enjoyed the youthful giggles of Tess, Simon’s daughter. Seventeen and so mature in some respects - seriously, what other 17 year old tackles Fedders?! - but adoringly pure too. Simon, Jess, Tess and Jane have all known each other for years - much longer than we have known them - and it was great listening to them share the stories of their numerous past trips.

There were also some melancholy moments too: missing a good friend of ours, who had pulled out of the trip a few days prior. He had absolutely made the right call, of course, and had all of our respect for making such a tough decision. But we missed his presence, and knew these next few days were going to be just as tough for him as they would be for us.

Up we climbed towards and then past the Lake Sydney turnoff (which heads south towards the neighboring Abel of Mt Bobs) before descending out of the tree cover at South Cracroft River - our planned stop for the night. Descending through the last of the forest cover we got our first glimpse of Federation Peak. OMG, OMG, OMG! Well, a slightly less lady like version of that anyway!

The Cracroft River plains had copped the brunt of the terrible 2019-2020 Tasmanian bushfire, destroying the original South Cracroft River campsite in its wake. Temporary tent platforms have been set up to the south-east amongst the buttongrass, but these were far from enticing given the complete lack of shade in the early afternoon sun. Additionally, the river itself was a mess of burnt and fallen timber, with only a miserable flow of water in the river. None of it was terribly appealing.

With several hours of daylight still in hand, a new plan was hatched. Instead we’d enjoy a longer lunch to cool down and rest our overheated bodies, then push on to Cutting Camp.

Ben and I were able to make first use of our new Helinox ultralight chairs and felt like comfy kings, as we joked about the other ‘peasants’ reduced to sitting on logs! The chairs would become something of a running gag for the trip, particularly after I toppled off mine in the soft soil at Berchervaise, giving the others a good laugh.

It was here we also got our first taste of the March flies and mosquitos, both of whom were there for the duration of the trip and persistently fierce and seemingly immune to repellant. Returning home six days later I counted over 90 mosquito bites on my legs and back. As I write this my legs currently look a polka-dotted canvas of bruises and bites! I have no idea why, but for some reason the mozzies always seek me out and rarely seem to bother Bender. My blood must taste better?!

It would be a massive understatement to say we were all dreading Cracroft Plains in the afternoon heat. But worse than the energy sapping heat were the spiders! Clearly spiders are the main ratepayers through the buttongrass, owning every bit of available real estate, a maze of webs strung across the track from the remains of burnt out timber. Simon was put in charge of leading us, least he just hear shrieking from us girls for the rest of the afternoon!

The hike soon become a trudge - very much left foot, right foot, repeat - over the plains as we pushed west. The sun was unbearably hot and our bodies were now thoroughly drenched in sweat. Each time we crossed a minor creek we would soak our buffs and hats to cool ourselves - a new trick I learnt from the others. Why have I never done this before?!

On occasions, time can go very fast or very slow when out bushwalking, and unsurprisingly it seemed to be a kind of never ending torture as we reeled in the last few kilometres into Cutting Camp, taking way longer than the lines on the map seemed to suggest. Sweaty, reeking of too many layers of sunscreen over salty skin and completely wiped out, we finally stumbled into camp around 8:30PM to the shocked faces of Becca and Tim, who hadn’t expected to see us until the morning.

We rushed to set up our tents as darkness was starting to fall. Becca and Tim were like true trail angels, boiling water for us and helping our weary selves get fed and sorted for the night. Within no time I was ready to fall into bed and sleep. Well, except that I couldn’t sleep of course, because now Federation was one big step closer and my recurring doubts, thoughts and fears had a new friend… Was I a selfish mother if I attempted climbing it, knowing the risks?

Day 2 - Cutting Camp to Berchervaise Camp via Moss Ridge.

Light rain had fallen on the tent for most of the night. It was still drizzling intermittently as we had breakfast and packed up preparing for the dreaded climb up Moss Ridge to the Bechervaise Plateau and our camp for the coming evening.

It would not be unreasonable to suggest that as much of Federation Peak’s reputation comes from the sheer effort to simply get there, as it does from its fearsome summit. Much of that effort, based on the prior research I’d done, seemed to focus on the ascent up through Moss Ridge.

“Through” is a deliberate use of words, as the track more often than not consists of a twisted vegetated maze of slippery fallen timber, deep mud pits and almost-impossibly steep climbs up damp rock slabs while clinging precariously onto vegetation, hoping their root systems hold! Much like the Western Arthurs’ Beggary Bumps, Moss Ridge redefines just how slowly one can make progress along an official gazetted walking track!

The additional effort to get to Cutting Camp the previous day would now pay dividends, as we could attack Moss Ridge immediately with fresh(ish) legs. I quite like this sort of jungle gym climbing and don’t mind a bit of mud (specially if its in a facial mask!). While the mere 2.5km of walking and 600m elevation gain ultimately took our group over 5 hours to complete (with rests) I have to admit I thoroughly enjoyed Moss Ridge!

As a kid, I used to head bush around where my mum and dad lived with friends, and make cubbies and climb trees and have adventures. Bushwalking to me is the adult form of childhood adventures. So here we all were with our inner children released, climbing Moss Ridge. Jane and I making up the rear of our choo-choo climbing train, watching and learning from the guys in front. Equal parts hard work and fun. Equal parts grunting and chuckling.

I like to think that this sort of climbing-walking - with the required problem solving each step - keeps our brains from turning to mush as we age. Several sections involved varying degrees of actual climbing up or down small rock sections or from a tree, across a plank and up a mud wall. Yes - up a tree, across a plank and up a mud wall! Simon had bought along a length of webbing to pack-haul these sections. Very handy as Jane’s pack - aptly nicknamed “Beast” - weighed nearly as much as one!

Simon was mostly out front and would pass down tips to Tess and Jess behind him, who would in turn relay the information down the group. He was coping a fair ribbing too for his ‘your lefts and your rights’ calls which were of course the ‘other lefts and rights’ 😆

A brief snack break at the top of the most substantial climb for the day also saw us happily stripping the wet weather layers off, as the rain had now relented. The views down into the valleys below us were a testament to the elevation we had gained thus far. High up ahead, we could see Federation Peak’s imposing eastern face, poking its way out of the morning mist. The next few hours were spent helping each other up and down mud steps that were missing steps, climbing down tree roots, up mossy rocks or lifting our legs over endless Horizontal.

It would be five and a half hours of full body work out fun! Tess and I somehow ended up in front at some stage and we both did a little happy dance when the very flat and civilised boardwalk miraculously appeared underfoot! Camp! Whoop whoop! Bechervaise Plateau Camp has two rather small platforms and a small creek soak as a water source, but it may as well have been a five star resort for all we cared. Moss Ridge done!

How lucky were we to be camping right under Federation Peak?! Once again though, sleep alluded me. Well, until I heard rain again, patting away onto the tent fabric. Rain meant no Federation Summit attempt in the morning, but rather we’d be pushing onto Hanging Lake. I had a nights reprieve from facing my fear and having to make a decision about whether I would climb her or not.

Day 3 - Bechervaise Camp via Geeves Gully, the Chockstone Gully and the Southern Traverse to Hanging Lake.

With the rain came an itinerary change. Our new plan was to push on straight through to Hanging Lake and make camp for the night. The others were keen to summit the nearby Geeves Bluff (which didn’t require dry weather to climb) then, weather permitting, summit Federation Peak on our return the following day. The track from Bechervaise Plateau Camp leads very steeply up through a mixture of light scrub, semi-exposed mud steps and across rock to the top of Geeves Gully.

Becca had asked how I felt about the exposure, as we climbed the series of mud steps cut into the side of the ridge. I felt totally comfortable with it, thanks to the Pandani trip (also led by Simon) over the Western Arthurs exactly 12 months prior. When I expressed that to her, she said well then I would have no problem with summiting Fedders! I envied her confidence in me, as I didn’t feel it at all, and felt like a big fat mountain fraud. Who am I to think I can climb Federation Peak?

Someone I was in awe of - the more and more time we spent out there - was Jane. A self-admitting, out and out scare-dee-cat around exposure like me, and yet she was nailing everything put in front of her even with that beast of a pack on her back. Pretty cool!

I was torn between watching her and not. If I saw her struggle, it would dent my confidence in tackling the same section. But on the flip side, when I saw her ace it, it would lift my spirits.

By now the intermittent showers had turned to constant rain and everything was wet - including the rock leading down Geeves Gully. This would be our first real taste of actual, real, genuine ‘scary’. In my mind anyway, looking down it appeared like a great big slippery slope to imminent pain!

Hiding beneath the eerie mist I could just glimpse Lake Geeves, hundreds of metres below, just waiting to swallow me up. I looked at Ben with big worried eyes, and he gave me that reassuring ‘You’ll be right, Xing’ look.

Simon was first to climb down, then spotted a few others before it was my turn. My legs were a little like jelly, but after testing the rock I realised my boots actually had surprisingly good grip on the damp quartzite, as did my scrub gloves on the many tiny hand holds. I can do this, I thought to myself. One by one, we descended down the gully. Half climbing, half bum sliding, all in the wet conditions, taking our time and all due care because of the full packs on our backs.

Ben, Becca and Tim were bringing up the rear, all having a jovial time and enjoying themselves as they waited their turn down each tricky section before almost skipping down! The pressure on Simon as our trip leader must have been immense at this stage, but he patiently and carefully led the descent.

Halfway down the gully it turned sharply and Jane was struggling with her pack in such wet conditions. If super heroes wear Scarpa boots, then undoubtedly Becca is one in disguise.

She noticed Jane’s difficulties immediately, and the fact that Simon already had his hands full looking after the rest of us, so she monkeyed down the most improbable section of vertical vegetation and magically appeared moments later below Jane, to literally guide her hands and feet into place. When I grow up, I want to be a rock monkey - please!

At this stage, I made a quiet mental note to watch every move Becca made, and learn from them. How she placed her hands or feet, held her body or climbed. It was borderline stalking! I was already trying to absorb Simons immense knowledge on plants and insects and the way the landscape was carved, and now I had Becca to learn from too. But it was so worth it. She may be younger and fitter but like me she’s far from tall herself, yet moves on rock with such confidence and security. If I could just get a small bit of that!

Half way down the gully, Tess and I were sitting waiting for the others. She was perched next to some precariously suspended Pandani and her mood had shifted down a little. Pulling out a piece of banana cake, I convinced her to take half and within a few minutes her gorgeous chuckle reappeared. It was time to do the next section. We were all moving very slowly due to the conditions and the need to maintain a bit of space between us for safety. I was worried that Ben, Becca and Tim might be getting cold up the back. A strange thing was happening though - and it wasn’t something we would realise until later in the day, or even the next morning.

Finally at the bottom of Geeves Gully, a rapid snack break had us all ready to cross the thin ledge to Chockstone Gully. I was glad to be climbing up instead of down for a change! Even though Chockstone Gully was also wet -practically waterfall like in places - it was much easier than I expected.

Just a few sections where unladylike grunting was called for, but other than that really quite easy and I was remembering to put my climbing skills into play. Lengthen arms, lean out and look for holds. Find good finger holds and good foot holds, don’t be afraid to look for others. Take your time. Quietly and discreetly watch the Rock Monkey and emulate where possible.

One final challenge lay before us and the “easy” part of the Southern Traverse - a wall of very slanted, very wet and rather exposed rock. I was rightfully nervous of this section in the conditions we were in.

Perhaps it was the length of the day so far, the fact that cold had set in, or the fact that my nerves had just about had enough of it all, but I wanted that wall to just bugger off! Of course it wasn’t going to, so after much prompting from Bender I scrambled up the crack we would use for grip to get to the top.

Finally, the testing part of the day was over and my nerves could settle! We looked down towards Hanging Lake - or where it should have been below. It was completely obscured in the mist! After fanning out as directed across the short section of buttongrass on Thwaites Plateau (a couple of signs indicate where to do this, to prevent damage to the vegetation and a pad forming) we descended towards the lake on the easy stone-laid steps. There may even have been a little singing and dancing by Jess and I as we enjoyed the relative civility of a manicured track.

I sensed that the mist was hiding something pretty spectacular as we hit boardwalk for our final few metres into camp. Alas, we would have to wait until the next day to see what it was.

Day 4 - Hanging Lake to Bechervaise via Federation Peak Summit.

Conditions at Hanging Lake hadn’t improved into the evening and we mostly bunkered down in our tents to warm up and rest. We had decided if the weather was still terrible when we awoke the next day, that we would ride it our for an entire day and second night if necessary, as fine weather was predicted for Thursday. And surely the mountain would have to give in to our conviction at some point, right?

As I (again) failed miserably in the sleep department that night (not half in part to a dream where my car went flying off a cliff into Lake Geeves! That was helpful!!!) I lay trying to delve into my thoughts…

Was I really scared? Or is that how I thought I should feel? What if I climbed it and fell and left my kids motherless? What if I didn’t climb it and regretted it? Did I actually have the skill to climb it? I woke Bender in the night and told him my thoughts… to which he promptly replied “You can and will do it, babe. I know you”. And then he immediately fell back to sleep snoring! How could he be so sure, but me so full of doubt?

It was then I realised the strange thing that had been happening since Moss Ridge.

I was growing in confidence. Was it from watching Becca effortlessly climb with pure enjoyment? Was it doing the Southern Traverse in genuinely terrible conditions? Was it from watching Jess, Tess and Jane all master things that they too had been just as nervous about? Could it be from Tim’s quietly confident way of mastering each climb without fuss? Perhaps it was watching a father guide his precious daughter whilst not smothering her, letting her find her own way and not sanitise her experience of the walk? Perhaps it was just Ben’s simple belief that I could do it?

I couldn’t quite figure it out, but I had figured out one thing. I was with the right people to make it happen. It takes a village and I had mine right here and they all had my back, as I had theirs.

With persisting drizzle and mist otherwise writing the morning off, Ben, Becca, Simon, Jess and Tim went off to complete the short climb to Geeves Bluff as Tess, Jane and I enjoyed sleep in and lazy breakfast.

I wandered down to the lake and watched little Anaspididae aka. Tasmanian Mountain Shrimp dart around in the lake without care. Stunted Pencil pines lined its shores, the water so clear you could see into the earth’s soul. I thought of my family and my precious children, and of the challenge that lay ahead. I hoped I had the courage to do the right thing, whatever that was.

The weather gods finally decided to shine on us around mid-morning, the mist now replaced with surprising warm sun which lifted our spirits as quickly as it dried out our damp clothing and gear.

Tents packed and enjoying the feel of actual dry clothing, we began the short climb back from Hanging Lake to the summit junction where we would drop our big packs and begin the final climb. In stark contrast from a mere 24 hours earlier when we first passed the Traverse, it was a perfect day in every respect to climb Federation Peak.

The rock would be dry and grippy, the wind was minimal - the climb wasn’t going to get any safer than this. And there would be views to be enjoyed from the top! Finally, the benefit of climbing Federation Peak from Hanging Lake instead of Bechervaise meant we’d be feeling much fresher too, with less distance and much less climbing to undertake first. We had all our stars in alignment as best as we could have hoped.

Reaching the large cairn that marks the start of the final ascent, we dropped our big packs. Our mountain mamma Jane would wait at the big packs (she had never planned on summiting, and was more than satisfied simply completing the Southern Traverse) with one of our UHF radios, and we would radio from the summit when we reached it. A few of us would be carrying light day packs or running vests with essentials, but I opted not to as I didn’t want the distraction or any extra weight on me. Thankfully Bender was more than happy to tuck a few items into his vestpack for me.

Becca looked me in the eyes and said in her ever-confident way - you can do this. I knew that not everyone in our group had mixed feelings right now, but I also knew I was not the only one more than a bit apprehensive.

It. Was. Time.

Federation Peak Summit Push.

It’s hard to describe the first few steps off the main track onto the summit ‘track’. I was nervous and scared, but I had committed. This was something I’d been dreaming about for at least a couple of years, the culmination of so much work and effort. It was also now time to allow myself to enjoy each and every nerve wracking moment as they came. And it didn’t take too long for the first challenge to arrive!

A few steps up what initially started as a steep gravel path, we reached a cairn with a pad leading both left and right. It initially appears that one should go right, because it looked easier. Thankfully Becca had summited before and was immediately able to direct us to the left path. Apparently, the right path leads to doom, gloom and failure! Most horror stories and failed efforts on Fedders seem to revolve around people getting lost and choosing the wrong lead up to the summit. It’s easy to see why.

That said, the left path led straight to a wall of rock! After edging the wall we climbed through a crack between two rocks. Facing out sitting on the bottom rock was a bit like riding a horse! I could see Jane below pacing and looking up at us already some 20 metres directly below us, and we hadn’t even really began yet!

Tim forward scouted with Tess behind him and Jess behind her. Then Becca, then I and Ben and Simon bringing up the rear. I had immense respect for Tim leading on a climb he has never done - Federation Peak no less!

The forward scout is the guinea pig! Tim either has the best poker face in the world, or he was as cool as a cucumber the entire time, as I never saw him flinch. Directing and guiding from the middle, Becca had the weight of us all on her shoulders and she embraced her role. She calmed us, and somehow was next to, ahead of and behind us exactly where and when we all needed her. And Simon was tail-end Charlie. He had no one behind him to support him or spy foot holds. And he had his daughter climbing Federation Peak way off ahead - neither position I’d envy!

We moved slowly further up Federation’s face, following what pads and rock cairns there were, using intuition when they were absent. Tim and Becca always checking the route, lest we step off it.

I was in the zone, seeking hand holds, checking foot holds, sneaking tiny glimpses of the god-awful drops and always watching my walking family in case they needed me to help support a foot or a hand. I wanted to be able to help them as much as they all were helping me. Jess quietly squeezing my hand at times even though I knew she too was feeling overwhelmed in places showed what an amazing girl she is.

A little way up, Tess was overwhelmed for the briefest of moments and we all joined together to lift her spirits. Jess with a hug, Simon with fatherly reassurance and the others with encouraging words. My attempt at making her smile was a little more unorthodox and very unlady like, but it relived the pressure in more ways than one! With the smile back on our young adventurer’s face we pushed on higher.

Thus far, there had been solid challenges but nothing too technically difficult. That said, we were all taking the exact amount of time we needed to find the right hand or foot holds and check they were secure. There are LOTS of hand and foot holds to be found, but you need the confidence to find them. None us were rushing. Mistakes could be fatal and we were all giving the mountain the respect it deserved.

In between each of the challenging sections, there were small areas of reprieve where you could crouch down, still your heart rate and look at something other than the legendary plunging drop to Lake Geeves below. There were even short rocky ramps like you might find on a ‘normal’ trail. I was 100% focused on my hand and foot holds and fully, fully immersed in the moment.

Much of the actual climb focusses on the “ledge” and it had been the one section I’d been dreading most. Every picture I have seen shows climbers balanced precariously head in, bum out, with a horrid death drop of some 400m-plus below. My reality is that when I reached this ledge, it was easier than I had led myself to believe. Note I say “MY” reality. It may not be yours!

I, however, had the calming voice of Becca giving me instructions and standing on the edge of the ledge so I could focus on her and not the drop to the end of it. Keep in mind you still have the precarious drop behind you. I had Jess in front of me, making it look easy, and I had my new found confidence thanks to the wet Southern Traverse with full packs a day earlier.

I was spoilt for choice with hand and foot holds, thanks to the line that Becca and Tim picked around the ledge. I even leaned out, looking for better holds. Following the ledge one footstep and hand hold at a time to the right I reached the junction where you stop traversing right and instead climb up the rock to the next level area.

Once over the ledge, a pad of quartzite shale appeared. Even though it was completely walkable Tess, Jess and I sort of crawled up it. We were still in ledge mode! The three of us semi-crawled up it, whilst giggling at the fact that all three of us were semi-crawling it even though it wasn’t really necessary any more! A little more rock scrambling - all with little real exposure - and the climb levelled out.

And then above us, the surprisingly broad summit appeared. Could we really all be about to stand on the summit of Federation Peak? I watched in awe as Tim and Tess reached the summit, and then a few minutes later, there were screams of delight as we all joined them. I burst into tears I was so relieved, humbled and grateful. What a bunch of brave, beautiful human beings I was surrounded by.

It was time for a sugary snack to settle the adrenaline, lots of hugs (Pfft! COVID social distancing could take a break here!), radio in to let Jane know we had made it safely to the summit, take in the spectacular views all around us and use our only moment of phone reception to reach out to loved ones and let them know we made it. I had expected to be so nervous up on top about the descent that I wouldn’t enjoy the summit, but that wasn’t the case. I enjoyed every single second up there and even as we began the descent, I was feeling good.

I knew what was ahead and I could do it. I thanked Federation Peak for letting me climb her magnificent peak. I don’t believe that we conquer mountains, but rather that they allow us to climb them and in doing so teach us about ourselves. Climbing Federation Peak provided me with valuable lessons about working towards a goal, facing fears/doubts and being grateful for things when they work out well!

We slowly descended, retracing our steps with care so as to not go off route and end up in an unexpected precarious position. After the ledge I did my usual “take off like a ferret” trick: that’s what Ben calls it when I somehow end up in front zooming off once I smell the finish line! I was enjoying the decent after the ledge and the problem solving of finding my own hand and foot holds. I will never be a rock monkey, but I figure I have progressed maybe to a stone lizard!

With all of us back down off the summit, poor Jane’s heart could slow down and we enjoyed another lot of hugs all round with her. It was a surreal feeling accomplishing a goal I set four years ago - one for the longest time I never thought truly possible. And if not for Simon, Tess, Jess, Jane, Bender, Becca and Tim, it would simply not have been possible. I am a very lucky girl.

I admitted to myself as I lifted my heavy pack back on that I had actually enjoyed the summit climb. And what’s more - yes, I would go back again.

Despite the heavy packs, a weight had lifted from us all as we made our way back down Chockstone Gully, up Geeves Gully and then the steep descent to camp at Bechervaise Plateau.

High up above camp at Bechervaise we could see a tent and a heap of gear on the platforms, which was strange as Simon had booked us in months ago for the three days we needed for our itinerary.

A large group of unregistered climbers had taken over the entire space, which was a little disappointing as the booking system only works if everyone respects it. PWS is trying to regenerate the Lower Bechervaise camp area, but we had no choice but to set up at the old site for the night. As frustrating as the circumstances were, I actually preferred our night there rather than the platforms, as we had a front-seat view Federation Peak, soft vegetation under our tents and good company.

Becca and Tim bid us farewell at Bechervaise as they were off on another adventure before walking out. I watched them from behind as they quickly disappeared off the plateau into the dusky evening. Two generous souls who had just done more than they probably realised. ‘Thank you’ doesn’t even come close to cutting it.

I turned from watching them to watch the rest of the team setting up camp and felt an immense sense of pride and joy. How did Ben and I get so lucky as to be able to call these wonderful humans friends? Forget Federation Peak: it is the memories, the challenges, the tears and the laughter that enrich our souls. It really is all about the journey.

And for the first time in what seemed like weeks, I slept soundly that night. The sort of peaceful sleep that sheer exhaustion and the lack of fear can bring. Certainly the next two days, as we descended back to our car would have challenges of its own, but soon I would be eating gozeleme, hugging my children and wearing clean clothes. Now where did I put that damn face mask…