Posted by Sure enough it was another snowy night. Not as bad as the last night just enough for a light powdering up high in the snow gums and light sprinkling frozen on the ground.being frozen there was no need for plastic bags in shoes this morning and be descending to lower elevation fairly quickly.
From the hut the track was a faint food pad following high on a spur line through open snow gum country. Nice single track. I lost the track alignment a few times, never lost just momentarily displaced, before finding it again and carrying on. Large granite boulders were scattered right through and I found myself near trig point at one stage, scrambling up to see what I could see. Not much in amongst the trees and cloud.
A short section straight down had me cursing the same as yesterday before it flattened out into a old, now long abandoned track. Maybe an old logging track well before the establishment of the national park. It could quite make out what I was walking through. Many areas were really open and grassy besides dying wattle trees. It had me wondering it this was abandoned farming country. I’ll have to find out.
Before I knew it, I was out to the bitumen of the Omeo Hwy. There was a short section to walk along the road before starting another descent down towards Gill Creek. It was a nice day and motor bikes were out in force wizzing past me on the road.
Starting the descent to Gill Creek it was great to see that some recent trail maintenance had occurred with the spur line track cleared over over hanging vegetation. Awesome to see. There needs to be more if it. I found the descent really pleasant and encountered my first snake for the trip. It was sunny and they were bound to be out.
Approaching Gills Creek it was another straight down section. Again, this is not sustainable track design, particularly at the bottom end of a track towards a creek line.
Gill Creek itself was a great little spot. Clear waters running and no need to filter a water top up. Rainforest species lined the river bank.
I managed to find a dry foot crossing on a thin dodgy tree limb that had been placed across the creek. I was half expecting it to snap half way across as I bared weight down it. It held thankfully and my feet remained dry.
Like many other sections of the AAWT I’d descended deep down into a gully and would have to climb straight back out the other side. Unfortunately the track maintenance I’d encountered on the way down didn’t extend to the other side of the valley and I’d be faced with another brutal, severely overgrown, vertical climb up hill. This was tough. Head down and slogging, my focus on the masochist nature of the AAWT, I almost didn’t see snake number two for the day, narrowly avoiding stepping right up onto it. A red belly just chilling in the sun.
I was spent before reaching the top of the spur and had to take a break for an early lunch just to rest the legs and regain some energy.
Finally I made it up the spur and out to forest roads, my attention immediately drawn back to work with a planned burn notification nailed to a tree at the trail head. This was for a burn in our neighbouring district for autumn.
From here it was really just a 12km road bash along forest tracks to Taylors Crossing. This was a pain. The tracks were steep, making for sore knees and feet shuffling down slowly so as not to start staking down on loose dirt. If I never see another rollover again it will be a good thing. Again, head down and not concentrating in front snake number 3 for the appears laid out in a straight line across the track. I thought it was stick. Another narrow avoidance.
Taylors Crossing couldn’t come fast enough. I headed straight to the cold waters, kicked off my shoes and socks to soak my feet and legs until I couldn’t feel them in the pain numbing waters.
The AAWT camping area had not been maintained at all with knee high grass and deep in shade so I crossed the bridge to the day use area with its short grass and full sun. Right where I found a No Camping sign I set up camp. Surely they cant mean no camping for AAWT hikers. It was a weekend and with not a sole in sight I felt completely confident that I wouldn’t be sprung. If I was, I was back on home turf and was sure to know the local rangers, betting that I could argue my way out of a fine.
Mick Beckers 