Macs Mountain

Date: 13th March 2023 - Summit: 1413m

Photo credits: Ben Wells, Tracey Orr, Sally-Anne Richter, Ben Young

With our trip to The Spires cancelled due to bad weather and flooding of the Gordon River, it was time to action Plan B. Some friends were heading into the western reaches of the Cradle Mountain-Lake St. Clair National Park to climb Macs Mountain and Mount Nereus, so we decided to join them. Misery loves company and Bender - who’d previously summited both peaks back in 2021 - had mentioned more than a few times that Mount Nereus was a pretty tough place to reach. We had planned on summiting Macs Mountain on the way to Mount Nereus, but for reasons that will become apparent it would not be summited until the next morning - some 26 hours after leaving camp!

Bender and I had enjoyed a leisurely day’s walking up and onto the summit of Walled Mountain from Pine Valley Hut. The weather had thoroughly misted in, and because we could see little of our surrounds, we didn’t stop to take photos or stare in awe at what we know from past trips to be a stunningly beautiful part of Tasmania. No stops meant we made even quicker time to the summit, than we had on our previous trip with day packs. The plan was to make camp alongside the tarns in the bowl on the western side of the summit plateau, and so after touching the summit cairn (just because!) we headed west into the thick mist.

We dropped some elevation, negotiating a mixture of pineapple grass, low lying vegetation and occasional outcrops of rock to reach the tarns which were full after several days of rain. We were spoilt for choice when it came to campsites, but with minimal shelter available up on the plateau of Walled Mountain, Bender had carried in the big gun tent, the Hilleberg Nammatj 2 GT. We had tossed the idea of bringing the TarpTent - which weighs a quarter of the Hille - but we would be camping above 1200m each night exposed to likely strong winds and potential snow. So the big red tunnel tent made much more sense.

It was barely past lunch by the time we had the tent up and our gear unpacked, so we made the most the remaining afternoon to rest up in the tent, keep warm and binge on Netflix downloads. Occasionally, the mist would lift, and we would peek out and steal a brief glimpse of the surrounding mountains before it would close back in again. Later in the day the sun actually did pop out long enough for us to dry off our gear, and we hoped our friends were enjoying the warmth too on their walk in.

Sally-Anne, Shayne and Michael arrived in the early evening with a lovely surprise. In tow was Ben Young, who we have walked with several times before. He is always a pleasure to have around. They had met him on the ferry; clearly great minds were thinking alike, as they were all heading in the same direction!

The evening light was fast fading so Bender and I helped them get set up and sorted for dinner. We all agreed on a 6:30am start for the next morning, some of us more eager than others for the dreaded early start! Had I known - as I crawled into my lovely warm sleeping quilt that night - that I wouldn’t see the tent for 29 hours after leaving in the morning, I would have appreciated the comfort more!

Unfortunately, the thick, damp mist had closed in again overnight, and so we set off through the darkness in full wet weathers, our head torches barely penetrating into the white. Passing the tarns, we continued across the low alpine scrub in the general direction of Walled Mountain’s rocky western spine. Bender couldn’t recall how cairn’d the route over the the ridge was when he had visited Macs and Nereus before, but I had a dim recollection I had read somewhere that the route was well marked. (Note: the route is fully cairn’d and quite obvious for the most part, which we found on the return journey - it saves a lot of time!)

Nonetheless, Bender had mentioned we just needed to stick to the high centre of the ridge and not drop off either side of it too much. As it turns out though, perhaps because of eagerness, perhaps the white out or early morning dark, or just a larger group, but we ended up deviating well off our intended route and it cost us dearly.

Instead of being on top of the ridge, we were a fair few metres north, which meant we were sidling lower and at a steep angle. It was messy, awkward and slow. The boulders were very large in places, covered with slippery black moss and usually with massive holes between them, limiting our options to move onwards. We were burning up valuable time on what should have been one of the more straightforward sections of the day.

Towards the end of the boulder descent, we did locate a few cairns but it was too late to save us any meaningful time. Finally we reached the minor plateau of lowish vegetation that surrounds the western edge of Walled Mountain, before crossing over to the rock chute that descends steeply down to the Walled/Macs saddle. Obvious pads lead through this area and over to the chute.

These rocks were much smaller than the rocky ridge on Walled Mountain, but many were unsteady or loose, so we spread out carefully, should a rock come away, we wouldn’t tumble it on each other’s heads! I reached the bottom first, followed by Bender and then the others. A quick glance at my watch confirmed that we were indeed quite behind schedule. It had taken us over 2.5 hours to reach this section. The combination of less-than-ideal navigation and a large group had made for rather slow going.

After a quick snack so everyone could regroup and refuel, we set out on what was initially a very obvious pad, leading downwards through some thicker scrub into the saddle. Even in the places where the scrub had reclaimed the track, you could see the recognisable flattening of the vegetation where others had travelled. Two pieces of pink tape - one which had fallen on the ground though - indicated we were on the right track.

It was around this time that my right knee decided that it would occasionally send sharp jolts of pain through my leg. I had tripped over our cat Toothless - after he kamikaze’d straight into me, of course - two days prior and landed hard on it. He has a habit of hiding behind doors, then racing straight in front of you as soon as they open. The fall had caused bruising and swelling but Nurofen had kept the worst of the pain at bay - until now. It had looked ugly and swollen, but I had felt confident enough in its ability to get me through. A quiet doubt now began niggling in the back of my mind, but I figured I could always just stop anytime I needed.

Our group’s progress was still a bit slower than Bender and I thought necessary, and so we had a quick chat about everyone’s intentions. The others’ confirmed they would be just going to Macs Mountain, and graciously said that Bender, Sally-Anne and I could speed off. Ben Y, Shayne and Michael would enjoy a more leisurely pace to Macs Mountain, while the three of us would push on and try to gain back a little time.

Once down in the saddle Bender dropped a waypoint for our entry back into the scrub for our return. Trust me, you want to re-find that pad! A short and steep climb up Macs Mountain’s eastern face begins almost immediately as you hit the saddle. Initially we climbed upwards using a short section of forest with a lovely, mostly open understory. From there we pushed upwards through varying densities of alpine scrub and eventually coming out into thick, waist-high scoparia, sometimes finding pads, sometimes not. Two strategically placed pieces of pink tape within the densest section of scoparia helped us find the thin pad through, eventually coming up and over a small rock line.

The scoparia ended on a pineapple grass ramp we had spied from below. A water course ran through and it was a relief to see a reasonable trickle of water. The area between Macs and Nereus is notorious for its lack of permanent water and is usually dry in summer. The recent rain and snow melt was working in our favour, and we would not be needing to carry excessive amounts of water.

As we were continuing onwards to Nereus first, we would contour north-west just above the rock line on Macs Mountain, but our friends mentioned they just reached the scree fields and beelined the summit from there. That worked for them. Alternatively, if you contour around as we did, there is a large cairn that marks the junction to the most direct climb towards the summit, along with a few cairns marking the way up.

A faint pad helped with the contouring, as did the occasional cairn and we soon reached the major cairn that branches off to the summit. We had been making much more speedy progress but the damage - in terms of time - was already done, and given the summit was still in mist, we decided we would summit Macs Mountain on the return trip, as our primary objective was Mount Nereus. If you want to read the Mount Nereus blog click here. Or alternatively read on for the rest of the Macs Mountain blog below.

As this is a trip report for Macs Mountain, I will skip forward 20 hours and pick up where we left off at the substantial cairn a day earlier. We would return here after climbing Mount Nereus and having to emergency bivouac in the Macs-Green Hill saddle overnight!

Sometime later… After reaching the large cairn at the base of the boulder field that marks the junction to start the climb to the summit, we headed upwards. It was now early morning (again) and we were once more in thick mist. Ben could not recall any cairns leading to the summit, but had mentioned to just head straight up towards it and if we see a tiny lone Pandani we were on the right route.

Sally-Anne was leading up ahead and picking a lovely path through the boulders. They were a very manageable size, and fortunately dry even in the mist, which was a huge bonus. We were all tired after sleeping rough the night before, and having to bash up from the Green Hill saddle first thing, and a bit hungry given we only had left over museli bars and snacks for breakfast, but we were excited to finally climb Macs!

As it turned out, there were a few cairns dotted up the line to assist our tired brains with picking the route, and we were soon looking at the marvellous small pandani somehow growing straight out from a rock. It looked gorgeous in the mist. From here, it was only a matter of following a few more cairns, whilst being careful of some loose boulders and we were soon just under the summit area.

Mere minutes later after climbing around the left (southern) southern side of the summit outcrop, and we were finally on the peak of Macs Mountain! Cold, wet, hungry and with next to no views but we were still smiling! What an adventure we had had to get here!

In the absence of any views, we instead pulled out our phones to make the most of the limited phone reception to text loved ones that we were safe and well, and importantly back on track to continue the journey back to our tents.

The rest of the walking back to our tents didn’t take nearly as long as we had expected, somewhat surprising given the route involved as much climbing as it does descending and none of us had slept much overnight. All things considered, we were pretty happy with our times. We had left our make-shift bivvy site on the Green Hill Saddle at just before 8am. It would only take us four hours to get all the way from there to our Walled Mountain camp, including reaching the summit of Macs Mountain. By comparison, it had taken over 2.5 hours just to reach the Walled/Macs Mountain saddle descent the day before. Perhaps it was because we were so speedy going back over Walled on the ‘proper’ cairned route? Perhaps it was because we were all rather hungry and wanted to reach our food? Perhaps it was the thought of a warm tent calling?

What I can say, is that when we reached the bottom of the final small climb up to our tents and saw Shayne standing there, it was a relief. It felt like coming home. And as we reached him and he pulled a homemade cookie out for each of us (yes he even made a plant-based one for me!!).

Sal and I burst into tears. Tears of happiness at being back and at seeing those cookies. They were more than cookies obviously - they were kindness, care and safety. They were a big warn hug wrapped up in chocolate chips. And the cookie reminded me of another time I was bought to tears by human generosity and care. That involved the sweetest apricot I have ever tasted, handed out by one of the sweetest human beings I know. Little things mean an awful lot when you’re doing it tough out in the bush.

If you want to read the rest of the adventure to Mount Nereus just click here.