It had rained again most of the night so a wet packup was on the cards. Thankfully, the tarp had kept most of the tent dry and was high enough to work under. That is until it had to come down and be packed away.
Several warnings from friends and Merran around the weather had me dressed in waterproofs and warm gear. There were highly conflicting forecasts ranging from -5 to +5, snow and rain. It certainly didn’t feel the former bit I did get the rain, sleet, hail and snow. I heard later even Hobart had snow.
Over the morning as I climbed higher into the forests, I got hit with scuds of hail, rain and low visibility only to vanish leaving me soaking wet in sunshine and blue skies. I think this cycled at least 5-6 times before easing to just cold and cloudy in the afternoon.
Scuds on the way
The forests were both stunning in their untouched places, with tall trees, ferns, and rainforest plants and a bit depressing were they had been logged leaving piles of waste lying about.
And the tracks changed from well made roads to little used side routes with lots of trees down and muddy sections again covered in water. Swearing Bob’s plains, through high buttongrass and clay soil gave me pause for reflection on the origin of the name.
Part of the day’s plan had been to avoid a 32km day by dropping down into the Esperance River. This would make at 28km day with a good campsite. What I missed seeing without my glasses on was the fine detail in the contour lines. This round about track took me quite a bit higher than I had been all day, several hundred meters more of climbing, then big and tricky steep downhills. One hand holding my TF back and the other steadying myself with my walking pole. Slow knee and quads workouts.
I was quite relieved at 6.15pm to walk into the campground. Not a person in sight. I could set up under a shelter and be ready for a dry pack up tomorrow.
