Cradle Mountain

CR A D L E MOUNTAIN

[ 140 KILOMETRES FROM LAUNCESTON ]

On a stunning hike that pays homage to Tasmania’s majestic Cradle Mountain, Andrew Bain is rewarded with every step.

PEAK PERFORMANCE > On the boardwalk, I stop and wait for the traffic to pass. Two wombats amble down the track towards me, as unhurried as time itself. Just centimetres from my feet, they turn away, bustling on through the buttongrass clumps at the track’s edge.

I walk on but it’s as though the wombats have triggered a change in the day, for at this moment, the most familiar shape in Tasmania finally appears. Dawn mist lifts from the land, rising like a stage curtain to reveal the bowed summit of Cradle Mountain.

From where I stand, the mountain’s cliffs look as puzzling as the Rubik’s cube. Rising sheer and severe from above Dove Lake, they look impossible to anyone but rock climbers, yet for hikers like me, there is a way to reach the top of Tasmania’s most famous mountain. This 1545-metre tall mountain is the centrepiece of the Cradle Mountain-Lake St Clair National Park in Tasmania’s north-west. It doesn’t yield easily – but it can be climbed

in a day. The hike, which requires a national parks pass (parks.tas.gov.au), begins from the same place as the weeklong Overland Track walk, sharing the track until the base of the mountain. I’ve set out from Ronny Creek just before the shores of Dove Lake, located only a two-hour drive from Launceston.

ROCKY ROAD At the start, it’s classic Tasmanian terrain – clusters of pandani, the world’s largest heath plant, erupting like fireworks from a yellow sea of buttongrass. But quickly, the trail begins to climb, rising through rainforest and past Crater Falls to reach the shores of Crater Lake.

Things get exciting beyond the lake, with a steep, chain-assisted climb rising to Marions Lookout, poised atop a bare ridge, looking onto Dove Lake and directly across to the cliffs of Cradle Mountain. For walkers on the Overland Track, Marions Lookout is the highest point and the toughest climb of the week, but it’s neither of those things on the shorter – but trickier – hike to Cradle Mountain.

1545

METRES – THE HEIGHT OF CRADLE MOUNTAIN

I continue walking towards the peak, cutting across one of Tasmania’s most exposed mountain plateaus. When the westerly cold fronts blow through from the Southern Ocean, even in the middle of summer, wind, sleet and snow can chip painfully at your face – there are days you can barely stand up here. But the cloud has now cleared and the landscape is as still as a painting. Cradle Mountain looks almost etched against the perfect sky.

At the base stands Kitchen Hut, a basic day shelter that seems well named, as hikers huddle over stoves, brewing up soup, tea and coffee – fuel for the walk ahead. It’s here that the climb turns upwards and enters a world of rock and rubble. The slopes below Cradle’s cliffs are littered with boulders, seemingly discarded as excess by the mountain. The idea of a trail through the cliffs almost seems like a practical joke, but I soldier on, hopping from boulder to boulder, stretching my legs at times like rubber bands.

VIEW FROM THE TOP Despite appearances, the way through the cliffs suddenly becomes straightforward, if not simple, as the trail funnels into a gully, rising up steep, rocky slopes that require the use of hands as much as feet.

The gymnastics end along the mountain’s summit ridge, where rock towers rise like quills. In a few minutes, I’m standing atop the fifthhighest mountain in Tasmania, staring out over almost half of the island state.

The familiar view of Cradle Mountain from across Dove Lake might be one of Tasmania’s most famous images but the view from its summit is even better. Here, the landscape stretches away like an eternity of mountains. Barn Bluff rises immediately beside me like a fin and Mount Ossa, Tasmania’s highest peak at 1617 metres, sits nearby amid a clutch of curiously shaped peaks.

There are few mountain views in Australia to equal this and few more exciting climbs. It’s a place I’ve stood at more than half-a-dozen times, as though it’s my second mountain home, always pausing to savour the wild wonder of the view and delaying the descent, which is as challenging as the climb.

But finally, the inner call comes to leave – a voice filled with anticipation about that first beer and meal back in Cradle Valley after eight hours in the presence of this mighty mountain.