Down Under: Surviving Winter in Snowy Mountains Australia

The Snowy Mountains were immortalised in the late 1800’s with the poem ‘Man From Snowy River,’ written by Australian icon, Banjo Patterson. Still today, the high-country continues to call people to experience that same blend of solitude and adventure those before us pioneered, including the fly fisherman.

By: MATT TRIPET Photography by: BRAD SISSINS and MATT TRIPET

The waterways that flow through the Snowy’s originate in and around Australia’s highest peaks, draining throughout the south-eastern facing slopes of the alpine region, which naturally promote healthy flows all year-round with the abundant snow melt and the odd winter-like weather patterns getting caught up in the mountains during the open season.

It’s during this period the guide, Fly Program facilitator and angler in me would describe this period as the ‘wild season.’ Long days, big miles under foot and hours of concentration watching loops and drifts in harsh reflections of sunlight. But don’t get me wrong… I live for everything this season provides and the many people I share it with.

But it’s when the leaves fall, the days get shorter and the guides start freezing over that you’re reminded the season ends soon and some normality will come back to your life.

It’s at this time when the miles and miles of streams and rivers come to a close, I rack most of the trout sticks along with the waders and swapped them over for a set of skis. It’s always been that really important downtime for me. It is time to freshen the mind, enjoy the family and rest up the ‘hosting’ profile I carry in the open season.

However, last winter I made a commitment to spend more time in the forthcoming winter (just passed) to actively hunt the large winter lake trout that can be found in our incredible dams and alpine lakes and share a story of my struggle, enjoyment and survival of the winter.

The Snowy Mountains comprises of sixteen hydro dams built during the Snowy Hydro Scheme commencing in the late 1940’s, with the Eucumbene and Jindabyne systems are grander in size than Sydney Harbour. These huge systems collectively add to the existing natural lakes and tarns that can also be found in some of the higher alpine regions, many of which will freeze over during the winter spell.

My objective over winter was to fish in all conditions, within safety and reason.

The likes of the Jindabyne and Eucumbene systems have been well documented in all forms of media as exceptional winter fisheries, particularly working edges for cruising browns. Satisfied that this story has been told on many occasions, I felt a strong draw toward some of our remote bodies of water that are far less pursued in these harder months of ice, snow and winter prevailing winds.

But the one question would stand, can the challenging conditions be met by the dimensions of a oncein-a-season fish to make the preparation and effort in the journey meaningful?

Thankfully, my mind has never worked in that way. The dimension of the challenges wild places and the lessons they would present me would always been my calling.

The high country has a romantic aura about it. It’s a place that calls to some people, without ever satisfying the growing passion one discovers in this place. The connection with nature in this wild place is just on another level. Everything in this place survives with a sense of depth of wild existence and purpose, not by accident and chance. If it did, it would simply die. Add elements of snow, wind and ice to this landscape we can discover another platform to discover this unsettled world transformed by the elements. I have no doubt this the very reason I find myself in these places and why the idea exploring them in the months of adversity excites me.

Wondering these alpine lakes certainly tested my resolve on a number of occasions, particularly on the days when conditions were against you. You would find a new meaning of cold and despair. Days on days would see me challenge why I found myself walking these untrodden paths for the reasons only a fly-fisherman would relate to, that story of a fish that would be recounted for a lifetime.

But there would also be moments like stopping to watch the windswept fog roll through the Snow Gums on a sub-zero morning, or that afternoon sunset and warm fire seeking to thaw out a frozen body after a day without seeing a fish would provide realisation that the very simplest of life’s gifts could be the most precious to me in these testing times. Moments created through adversity would become the making of the greatest moments I had in the season.

With time and effort, I would enjoy the success the hard work bringing to hand a number of memorable fish.

But memorable not for their dimensions or fighting stories, but for the context they played in a picture painted by long days in strong winds, fidget weather and days where I zeroed out.

These experiences of joy seemed to take me off-guard at times, staring at what would be a standard fish in a day’s outing on a warm afternoon hatch. There was never that void feeling of disappointment holding a small yielding in my hand prior to its release. There was only admiration and respect for the life places these fish live. The stories told through their colours and spots are somehow different to those caught on the easy days.

Looking back at the season it is easy to say, it wasn’t defined by my first expectations. The stories measured by pounds and inches documented by ‘grip-andgrin’ photos. It would be a season to push me further where footsteps found in the snow are yours only, leaving a path of warmth, safety and comfort found back at the 4X4. It would be a season defined by existing in difficult climatic conditions that express the depth of cold and hunger one can only experience when exploring these places in the depth of winter.

Summed by the many hours wondering alone in the cold and frozen mountain landscapes would remind me to take to heart the greatest gift fly fishing so freely gives us. The opportunity to be connected with real, tangible experiences found in wild places.

These are the intrinsic and underlying reasons we are called to pursue the next bend of the river and over the next hill to another lake. It is the ‘unknowns’ that nature so powerfully presents to us as anglers that is the underpinning of this amazing pursuit we can dedicate a lifetime to.

‘Surviving the Snowy Mountains in Winter’ story won’t be defined by the dimensions of an experience that we can measure on a set of scales. It will be a story defined by exploring waterways that exist in wild and adverse landscapes where trout thrive. It is a story to remind us all that we should seek to explore these places and being an active part of them.

There is no doubt, these set of experiences would become my most treasured fishing memories for 2018 and be the reason why my mind wonders, as my head lays rest on my pillow each night.