The Bluff - Mount Howitt circuit, Victoria
/The Easter long weekend always offers a great chance to get out of the city and provides a chunk of time into which one can get some adventure. Having not that long ago returned from Europe and not visited my favourite park of the state, it was a good opportunity to go hiking in the Victorian Alps. Given Mia had done done much hiking in the area, it was a good chance to do an abridged highlights walk: a loop which connected The Bluff, Mount Howitt and the Howqua River track. The walk was always going to present some challenges, namely water scarcity and four-wheel drivers, but the self-inflicted wound was going to be Mia and I having brand new boots, and this was to be their first outing and there could be hell to pay.
The Victorian high country is an astonishing place which often sears itself into the soul of those that spend any time there. The most remarkable landscape in this area, along with the highest peaks occur along the Great Dividing Range, with the bulk of the area protected within The Alpine National Park, which consequently is the Largest National Park in Victoria. We were going to wander around the Howqua River valley, an access point for some of the most impressive peaks in the park. In a convenient coincidence, my father had departed on a holiday and left us his car to use as we wished and consequently, that meant the car was going to get well used. From Melbourne to the trail head 8 Mile Flat is a touch under 250 kilometres which takes about 3h30, including a minor creek crossing. Given it was the Easter long weekend, we could not face leaving Melbourne on Thursday night, so we left at a very reasonable time on Friday, meaning that we were not actually off walking until the early afternoon.
Our first task was to climb 8 Mile Spur, a track that is not favoured due to being a bit of a slog, taking its occupants from 600 metres to 1400 metres altitude over 5 kilometres, which is not particularly steep, but due to a self-fulfilling puzzle is rather overgrown and can be slow going. The walk itself is delightful as almost every tree that grows in the national park will be passed on those five kilometres and the ridge at the top - the aptly named Rocky Ridge - provides some great views. As we were well loaded with water with no set destination in mind, once we had done the climbing we came across a great campsite on said ridge and decided that whilst water is not a concern and the weather good that we would enjoy camping at altitude. We set up for the night and were treating to a cracking sunset, with fingers of red and gold painting the eucalyptus trees that I had so been pining for when in Europe.
The next morning brought further blue skies and so we were in a good position to knock off the 14 kilometres to Lovicks Hut, which would include a climb up The Bluff, which when viewed from the northwest is fairly intimidating. Once we were packed we descended the very much overgrown track down to Refrigerator gap, which given it was the lowest point we were going to be passing for a few days we wanted to ensure we filled up our water reserves. Being early autumn but without any heavy rains, the streams were bone dry and we wanted to avoid major detours if we could avoid it. My map had a few water sources on it, but the ones close by were all parched and so we were left marching along the Bluff Link road, rounding corners and hoping for water in a gully. After a two and change kilometre walk we heard the delicious and unmistakable sound of running water, although the price of admission was the close company of blackberry bushes.
Retracing our steps, we returned to the scene of the notoriously steep climb up the face of The Bluff which rises some 400 metres in 1 km. Again, it is not anything crazy, but it will get you warm when you are hauling a big pack! By the time we reached the top some clouds had come in and we had a tough time actually following the track once we emerged out of the scrub onto the exposed summit. From here it was a matter of following the Bluff walking track, which descends and passes to the south of the summit of Mount Eadley Stoney. It was at this point that we passed two walkers coming the other direction, one of whom looked startlingly familiar, to the point it was convinced I knew who he was, but I didn't say anything other than "g'day". Fortunately, when whilst we were having a break in Bluff Hut, they also stopped in to have a look and then I correctly identified that it indeed was an old friend from school, which precipitated further conversation and his partner even brought some chips into the mix that they had stored in their car as they had driven up. It was great catching up, but also a curse given the salty chips increased our need for water and there was none at the hut. Fortunately we had filled up down low, but it was not boding well for the following day given we had not seen a drop up high.
The rest of the day can only be described as a bit of a downer. Despite being in such a nice location, the walk was along the Bluff track, which despite being a 4WD track is closer to a highway on the Easter long weekend. Moreover, there was evidence of plenty of bad behaviour of people wanting to make the most of their time on the track, from deep off-track mud pools to beer bottles. The 6.5 kilometres from the hut to the campsite was slow going as those new boots were starting to make their presence known in the form of sore feet, but what really put the knife in was arriving after a long day of walking to a packed campground of four-wheel drivers blasting music, drinking and carrying on and having to find a campsite in amongst that. The best spot we could find was best located by the rough unit playing the trumpet. I was certainly envious of the cold beers, but would forego them any day for peace, quiet and respect for others at a campground.
As if the divide between hikers and four-wheel drivers needs to be made any clearer, but getting up before sunrise meant that I was the only person up, and this continued well after the sun was up, not that I had any problem with that. During the night, a thick mist had developed and the old grazing site looked ethereal but also grand. The most difficult aspect of the morning was summoning the courage to go and ask our very hungover neighbours if they could part with a bit of water as we still had another night up high planned and we were hoping to not have to change this up. Begrudgingly he gave me one litre, which was much appreciated but unclear if we could survive on just that - we would see how the day went. Fortunately the days walking would be much more enjoyable, with only a few kilometres along the 4WD track before we intersected the Australian Alps Walking Track and entered the hiking only zone.
It is a strange thing to walk in the alps as an adult given how much time I spent exploring the area at school, with events tied to almost all locations. For example, one of the most memorable events I have from the area occurred at the intersection of the Australian Alps Walking track and the Bluff track where we stopped to fill in a log book and it happened to be my birthday, and a whole bunch of people had wished me a happy birthday in the notes of the log. Given this was unprompted and unexpected, I was genuinely touched. And given all the range of experiences I had in the alps, there are few locations which don't have a story. Having a chance to relive them in addition to adding new tales to the storybook is a true delight.
The delights were set to continue with the delectable section of track which heads to Mount Howitt via Mount Magdala. The path is well formed and one gets to walk amongst snow gums, over rocky outcrops and enjoy spectacular views. We found a particularly nice outcrop upon which to perch and enjoy lunch, but it was also here that it was evident that Mia's boots were causing problems, with blisters galore and sore feet. So I have this strange memory of enjoying my lunch, soaking up the surrounds all the while watching Mia tend to her feet. But we were deep in the hike and there was little to be done. At least we had been assured by some other hikers that our campsite for the night did indeed have water, which made things much more relaxed.
We wended our way up the back of Mount Howitt and were fortunate to have calm conditions to just sit and enjoy the view. There were even a few flame robins around. From the summit it was only a 2.5 kilometre walk to Macalister Springs, our source of water and campsite which is also home to the Vallejo Gantner Hut, easily the best hut in the region. It is also home to the Loo with a view, a compositing toilet with a large acrylic window looking down the valley. The campsite was very busy - as is normal - but it was the presence of the old-school hiker, also known as the canvas tent hiker which made less pleasant. This particular individual was being passively aggressive towards other hikers, making disparaging comments about modern hiking in general and making emphatic predictions of snow for the evening, in addition to a whole bunch of other nonsense. Different generations do things differently, but this individual was particularly grating and I did all that I could to avoid him, which worked well at all points other than being completely bailed up whilst collecting water. But the plentiful water meant that we could cook our meals, well hydrate, and consequently, sleep well, which is exactly what we did.
The next morning, it was clear that a change in the weather had come through, with genuinely low temperatures and a long of wind around, but unsurprisingly there was no snow. Given the large number of campers at the hut we were happy to make an early exodus but less happy with the antarctic gales which were buffeting the mountains. Our route passed back over Mount Howitt, meaning were were completely exposed and it was seriously unpleasant. We simply trudged along, and continued down Howitt Spur, which was to be our main descent. The track is about 5 kilometres long and drops 700 metres in elevation, much of which is near the summit. Thankfully it did not take all that long before trees and surrounding mountains provided shelter from the wind, making for much more pleasant conditions.
Despite the improved conditions, the new boots were wreaking havoc, with Mia's feet in particular an absolute mess. By the time we had hit the valley floor and were walking along the upper Howqua, it was evident that we were going to have a tough afternoon. We reached the Upper Howqua camping area and had our lunch, and this was where most other hikers were checking out: climbing into their cars and heading off. For better or worse, we still had another day of hiking as Melbourne University still honours Easter Tuesday, which meant we would have everything to ourselves, but we had to be back at the car early Tuesday morning, meaning we had to put down some kilometres. Indeed, we were planning to stay at Ritchies Hut, which made the day some 23 kilometres, but also meant that we were only half way for the day and Mia was really struggling.
By far the most tedious section of the walk was from Bindaree Hut to the Howqua track, an approximately 7 kilometre walk on a windy 4WD track with a couple of hundred vertical metres of elevation change. The ground is solid, there are cars coming by every now and then and it was just slow going. At least when we got to the river track turn off, whilst the terrain got rockier, it was a much more enjoyable track to walk on due to the flatness and overgrown nature of the track. But again, it was really rough going and I was not at all enjoying watching Mia in so much pain, but there was nothing we could do. So you can imagine our relief once we arrive at the hut: we set up then tent, made some dinner and then just went to bed. Then, the heavens opened.
Sleeping beneath heavy rain is one my favourite experiences, but just not when in a tent. Well that is not quite right, I don't mind it, I just find it hard to sleep. What I don't like is packing up a wet tent and then having to use it the following night. Luckily the downpour came on our last night, so we needed simply to pack it away, but even that was miserable enough. The 5 kilometre walk back to 8 Mile Flat is well trodden, known as one of the nice and more-accessible walks in the area, but the views of the river and associated gorge were largely obscured by our waterproofs and it was bucketing down. At least we could just plod along as we didn't have far to go. My main concern however was that the small creek that we crossed to park the car may have become a raging torrent under the heavy falls, which gave much plenty to chew on as we were walking, especially since there would be no one else around thanks to the Easter Tuesday business. Thankfully, once we arrived back at the car we were able to cross the creek and get back to Melbourne. Obviously we stopped in at a bakery for the obligatory post-hike visit, but our rush to get back to Melbourne was actually to attend a sitting at The Fat Duck, which for a time was in Melbourne (although is now Dinner by Heston Blumenthal). Needless to say that experience is the other end of the spectrum compared to hiking, but none-the-less enjoyable. I did however feel very sorry for Mia, as she wanted to wear some heeled shoes but had a blister the size of a fist to contend with!