Mount Nereus

Date: 12 March 2023 - Summit: 1184m

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

This trip report continues on from our Macs Mountain adventure. Read that here.

Continued on from the Macs Mountain essay….

We were all conscious of how much time we had already lost, and how far behind schedule we were. For this reason, as we passed the large cairn that marks the step off point to the Macs Mountain summit, we kept pressing on. The top of Macs Mountain could wait until the return journey, if at all.

As we continued sidling around the northern side of Macs Mountain, we made sure not to gain any unnecessary height. We were staying right on the edge of the scree to allow for faster progress using the very low vegetation that had a semi-consistent pad. Soon enough we would turn north-westerly to descend towards the Macs/Green Hill Saddle.

We located a faint pad that led downwards but it would drop out frequently, swallowed up by the scrub. Some of the scrub was waist-high, the rest over our heads. None of it particularly difficult but all of it slowing our progress. At the base of the saddle we checked out the many lovely campsites available just minutes from where Bender had camped on his last trip out here with our beautiful friends Becca and Tim. Read Becca’s account of that trip here.

A few patches of extra thick scoparia blocked our way up towards the top of Green Hill as we began climbing, but again Bender was championing the way forward for Sal and I.

I really cant stress enough how integral to this trip Bender was. He’d been out here before - and the list of return walkers out this way would be very short - and obviously knew the route, but more so he was our fierce knight-in-shining-armour out front. Taking on 99% of the leading and navigating meant he was also plowing the field for us. It is much easier to be the second person through, and easier again to be the third. As his knee had rendered him unable to lead or scrub bash at all for our recent Southern Ranges trip (or even kneel to roll up his bed mat) and I had been out the front for the entire trip, he had said he would return the favour for Nereus. Man I think I had the better end of the deal!

Once we neared the top of Green Hill the walking became much more open and pleasant. Had we not already been behind the eight-ball as such we would have gone right to the top to check out the views, but we didn’t have the luxury of spare time so sidled some 20m-30m around the northern flank. Below us we could see Urquharts Mesa. The walking looked so much nicer there! And we knew there was high chance of water being found on the Mesa. As the day had been cool thus far we still had plenty of water between us, but it’s always nice to know its there, especially for the return journey.

More scrub, mostly faint but sometimes obvious pads and more valuable time later, we stepped out onto Urquharts Mesa. What had looked like lovely walking from above now kinda wasn’t! Sure, it wasn’t super scrubby, but it was thicker and taller than expected, and lumpy and awkward underfoot. Directly west, Mount Nereus appeared both close and far away at the same time. We allowed ourselves a few minutes to down a snack and top up our water supplies from the very small source on the Mesa. Once again, the recent rains were working in our favour. The pool of water was shallow, but flowing cool and clear.

The drop from Urquharts Mesa to the open button grass fields that flank Mount Nereus’s bulk was surprisingly long - as Bender had warned us. On the edge of the Mesa we located the narrow split in the large rock shelf that encloses a very manageable route down off the plateau onto the slope below. A lone tree managing to grow in the split. The tenacity of nature never stops surprising me.

Heading down the broad ridgeline we entered into the thick of the scrub again. Eucalyptus, tea tree, baurea - so much baurea - and cutting grass. We used animal pads, gaps in the scrub when we could find them, and occasionally evidence of past human traffic would appear from nowhere by way of trodden or snapped branches. Our main objective here was to stay on top of the ridge and not drop off the side, no matter how enticing the less dense vegetation looked.

As we neared the button grass field, we found a sort of tunnel leading out of the thick tea tree, and so dropped a waypoint on the GPS to ensure we located it on the return. Although Mount Nereus was now much closer, we all knew that too much time had passed thus far and we all felt the weight of that on our shoulders. Or perhaps more accurately, a certain amount of dread in our stomachs.

As any day-trip should have, we had briefly discussed a turn-around time. We were all unanimous - no turn around time. We would summit, even if we had to return in the dark under headlamp, or bivvy overnight if necessary. Now, that’s not always a particularly sensible or wise attitude to have - nor one we’d recommend - but we had the necessary gear on us for either option. And, honestly, it had been too much effort to get this far to consider turning around before the summit.

We zigged and zagged across the button grass plain, sometimes chatting and sometimes silent, weaving through the occasional pockets of tea tree or lemon-scented boronia that fragranced the air delightfully. It is one of my favourite alpine plants and its scent always lifts my spirits and energy. We were all feeling a bit weary at this stage. My knee wasn’t entirely loving life, even though Sal and Bender were being very generous in letting me go third in the conga line for scrub bashing.

Sal mentioned if she had been on her own, as originally intended, she would have turned around by now. This would be a really tough solo challenge. Just having company makes the hardships seem much more doable.

One button grass field led to another, and after picking our way through a band of thicker scrub we arrived into the open myrtle forest at the base of the mountain. We had reached Nereus at last. And with the sun now hot on our backs, it was a relief to step into the shaded understory. And what a lovely understory! It was lush, it was green, it was furry and it was OPEN! Nothing tried to touch or tangle us as we walked. Nothing snaked our feet or grabbed at us. Sure, there was the occasional fallen tree to climb over but other than that it was open walking.

As we began climbing up through the rainforest and giant pandani, I reminded Bender we didn’t want the final climb to be “up the sketchy way” that he and Becca had taken for their ascent. Both Bender and Becca are guns on sketchy stuff - there’s a reason her nickname is Rock Monkey - and I learned a lot by watching how she moved and climbed when we did Federation Peak. But I still only fall into a stone lizard category! Bender assured me that we would try and avoid that section by using the gully further around to the west they’d used for their descent.

As fate would have it, despite Bender’s best efforts with the GPS and reading the complex terrain, we ended up on the sketchy bit regardless! The flat top of Mt Nereus is guarded by steep and surprisingly sheer rock faces, cliffs and gullies. The exposed rock had a coating of black moss and where their was soil and vegetation it was thin and slippery. The first small cliff we arrived at was where Becca had scampered up with the aid of a leg up from Bender. Even if he could assist Sal and I first, he would never make it up. It was also wet from the recent rain and super slick. Neither Sal nor I were eager to take it anyway, as it sort of jutted out and in the wet it was a hard no!

So we fossicked around for a bit and ended up finding an only slightly less sketchy area nearby which involved the use of a tree to gain some height, then a sort of desperately steep crawl up rock and through some dense vegetation. Sal led up, me second and Bender third. There was more than a little grunting as we physically dragged ourselves up the cliff, not one of us game enough to look behind or below!

Once again, we had burned precious time we didn’t have trying to find a less sketchy way to get up to the summit area, and ended up having to do some semi dodgy stuff anyway. But from here we were in manageable (and safe!) scrub again and only a short distance from the summit. Pads led through this bit all the way to the summit cairn.

OMG. We. Had. Made. It!

It had taken us an entire eight hours. Way too long - at least for this time of year. The combination of losing time over Walled Mountain and time to navigate the cliffs below the summit had put us in an unenviable position. But for now we were here, and we were going to have a bite to eat and just appreciate the fairly limited views. Time to worry about what comes next in half hour. We had earned the right to just be in the place we were in - arguably one of the least visited peaks in Tasmania.

We had already accepted that we’d likely be bivvying out somewhere between here and camp back on Walled Mountain. We didn’t have the same amount of daylight hours left that we had used to reach this point, and unlike most return legs off mountains, we’d have as much ‘up’ as ‘down’ still to cover. While we descended Nereus, we discussed the pros and cons of bivvying versus navigating several hours in the dark over and/or around two mountains.

We didn’t avoid all the sketchy stuff getting back off the summit, but we did avoid a fair bit of it by taking a slightly different route that included a careful balance of contouring on just the right line to not drop into a steep gully, and not be too high as to hit cliffs again. While everyone talks about the scrub and the lack of water getting out to Nereus, few seem to talk about how tricky a climb it actually is. Getting caught in deep gullies or dead ends around short cliffs is surprisingly easy here. The three of us were all much relieved to bottom out into the lovely open forest once more. One challenge done, many more still to go.

Down the rainforest we went, over the now quite warm button grass plains and back to the base of the climb up onto Urquharts Mesa. Bender was understandably fatigued by now, so Sal and I took short turns of leading, trying to find a path forward and scrub bashing. Inevitably he would take over when more power was needed to push through. We were racing time now, trying to maintain momentum as the sun got lower in the sky.

Climbing back up to Urquharts Mesa in the heat on fatigued legs was hard work. The baurea just snatched at our feet and the scoparia pushed back at us. We all needed a few minutes back at the water source to refill and to lift our spirits. So we took it.

By this point we had unanimously agreed to bivvy for the night in one of the camp spots in the saddle between Green Hill and Macs Mountain. Physically speaking, we definitely could have pushed on well into the night, but safety had to come first. Unfortunately the final leg of the return trip would be over the western Walled Mountain ridge. Negotiating large, wet and slippery boulders with even larger holes in the pitch black dark under headtorch was a recipe for injury or worse.

If there was any doubt that were making the wrong decision, mist had also descended over Walled Mountain as we made our way over Green Hill itself. Picking a route over boulders with limited visibility in the dark would be just plain reckless. If one of us slipped and fell on the boulder field on Walled Mountain it would risk all three of us. Rescue would be near impossible in that area and would put emergency services at risk. That’s selfish. So bivvying it was.

We made good time over the Mesa and then back up to the top of Green Hill. Our GPS waypoint had been a good start for the scrub climb and we managed to pick a reasonably decent route, finding pads or opening areas for most of the climb up. We again sidled around the high point before descending quickly, using gravity to push through the scoporia down to the saddle. It was now well after 7pm and sunset was less than an hour away.

It was time to find a flat, sheltered spot, drag out our bivvy bags, climb in and try to sleep. As it turned out there was not much sleep to be had. It was a clear, cold night with not a cloud in the sky! At least it hadn’t rained though - a saving grace. I made sure I switched my phone and watch off, so I couldn’t watch the hours slowly drag by. I listened to Bender and Sal as they somehow managed to sleep for short periods and envied them. My teeth were chattering to the point it was keeping me awake. Bender and I were in the same bivvy bag as I had given my bag to Sal - her bivvy turned out to be a space blanket rather than a sack. The night dragged as Bender and I synchronised our turns so we could attempt to keep each other warm . If it wasn’t so very cold, it would have been amusing.

Daylight finally arrived in the dull morning mist. The three of us crawled out of our bags of human sweat soup without complaint, stretched our cold and aching bones and shared our meagre rations. Sal shared some chocolate with Bender, and I ate a bit of a Cliff Bar, a few jelly beans and a handful of Nurofen to try to dull the pain in my knee. Mind you, I had been eating them like lollies and they weren’t even touching the sides by this stage. I was putting on a brave face so as to not worry Sal and Bender. When they would ask about it I would say “all good” and smile. I really felt like crying instead! After our breakfast of champions ,we set off into the mist and began the climb up towards Macs Mountain.

It was Sally-Anne’s first time in a bivvy bag - and mine and Bender’s second, coincidentally a year ago to the day from our first - so that gave us lots to chat about as we climbed into the scrub band. We managed to refind the agreeable pad we’d stumbled across partway down the day before, and to stay on it the entire way up to the scree line with much less effort than expected. A small win. A short contour and climb later and we were up on Macs Mountain touching the summit cairn!

There were no views to be had in the early morning mist, but we had finally summited Macs Mountain - some 25 hours after leaving camp the day before! Now all that was left was to descend the mountain and climb back up and over Walled Mountain’s boulder strewn ridge and get back to camp. Despite being horribly tired and increasingly hungry, it would take us less than four hours from Green Hill to camp, including time summiting Macs Mountain.

The gods were smiling on us as we scored a great route off Macs and an even better line up towards the pad at the base of the rock chute onto Walled Mountain. It was whilst climbing up this chute that a boulder I was standing on slid downwards out from under my feet, causing me to face plant on another boulder. I now had a decent sized graze on my jaw and under my chin which would later become an ugly scab and even less attractive bruising. Could I possibly look any better? Scrub filled hair, filthy clothing, blood in my mouth and a scab on my face. But you know what? I was still smiling because this is what it’s all about - adventures with friends.

Just before the fall, Bender had asked Sal and I to stop so he could take a photo. I look at that photo (below) and see the huge smile on Sal’s face. She had smashed one of the toughest mountains in the state and experienced her first ever emergency bivvy along the way, yet hadn’t once complained and stayed full of optimism and cheer the entire time. What a glorious human being she is.

We dealt with the final boulder traverse in a quick fashion darting from cairn to cairn and we soon happily standing on the soft ground that would lead us to camp.

As we collapsed with relief back at the tent I had a few quiet moments of reflection. Bender and I are so lucky to have so many mountain-climbing friends. They’re all amazingly capable, fierce and humble human beings. We value our shared experiences with them immensely. We go to witness wilderness while it’s still wild and we form bonds not only with the places we go but with the kind and generous souls that share these adventures with us. That is richness right there. I felt very blessed. Lucky me.