A journey to Terra Incognita

You can view the video series where I prepared for this walk at this link.

Trip Dates: 28th Feb to 7th March 2024

My fascination with Tasmania's Eldon Range began in the mid 1990s, a period marked by my initiation into bushwalking and a memorable first trip down the Overland Track. It was from just above Lake Windemere on that trip that I first glimpsed the imposing cliffs of Eldon Bluff and the extension of the range to Eldon Peak. The sight of this prominent yet distant range ignited a deep-seated yearning to explore the remote wilderness housing the peaks of High Dome, Eldon Bluff, and Eldon Peak. This desire was further fuelled in the early 2000s when I guided regularly on the Overland Track. Each trip I would gaze upon the range hoping to someday make a journey there. During this time I also stumbled across an Australian Geographic magazine article titled ‘Terra Incognita’ (Jan-Mar 2000) that outlined a rock climbing trip to the bluff. An epic, I read it through and scanned the photos knowing then that I would have to visit the range some day.

An Elusive range

Despite undertaking numerous remote walks all around Tasmania over the years, the Eldon Range still remained elusive. It wasn't until around 2017 that I began to seriously plan an expedition, piecing together an itinerary from sparse online reports and insights from fellow adventurers. Trips were planned and then postponed or changed to other walks for various reasons and it was only in early 2022, after overcoming scheduling conflicts and embarking on other adventures, that the Eldon Range expedition began to materialise. After postponing a 2023 trip (and heading to the Western Arthur Range instead), we finally set dates for a 10-day trek in early 2024. The journey to the Eldon Range was no longer a distant dream but a reality. It was game on!

A challenge awaits

Described as one of Tasmania’s toughest off track bushwalks, The Eldons and the surrounding peaks are guarded by deep valleys, extremely thick scrub, cliffs and rivers. To even begin the main component of the walk requires at least a three day walk through scrubby terrain. 

We had completed most of the first days walk previously in 2018 on our ‘Off track scrub bash’. This route entailed a rough walk from the Lyell Highway commencing at Pigeon House Hill. It involved 4 days of untracked walking, horribly thick scrub and beautiful ridge lines to Lake St Clair. It introduced us to the hellish scrub that is characteristic of the area. This early trip had set the stage for the challenges ahead in 2024. For six years we had waited to return.

Organisation

The stage was set for an adventure that promised to test our limits. Our regular team, consisting of myself, Beaui, Woolza, and Crawf, was no stranger to the challenges of Tasmanian off-track hiking. Our collective experience and camaraderie were our greatest assets, preparing us for one of Tasmania's most demanding bush walks. The Eldon Range is no simple undertaking - it is a mission requiring both organisation and an abundance of off track hiking experience. Luckily we had both - by heading in with a team of mates, all having hiked on many previous off track trips together, we all knew each other's abilities and limits. An essential ingredient to a successful expedition of this magnitude. It is one of the main reasons that I am selective about who I hike with on an adventure such as this - knowing each others capabilities is essential for such a rigorous undertaking.

Arriving at Lake St. Clair the evening before our start allowed us a brief rest and final preparations in the bunk rooms of Lake St Clair Tourist Park. An early rise at 5am followed by a quick breakfast and a short drive had us on the trail by 7am, eager and ready.

Day 1 - Return to Rocky Hill

Under clear skies, we quickly made our way through the initial button grass to find the familiar crossing of the Collingwood river. The river, running low, hinted at potential water scarcity on the range, a concern we shelved for the moment as we crossed without the need to remove our boots. Ominous, but very convenient. 

After emerging from the riverbank to the initial sparse scrub it only took a few minutes to find the pad up Pigeon House Hill that would guide us to tonight's destination. 

On the trail

After months of training, we were all in good fitness and made quick progress up the initial steep incline. The day was already beginning to heat up and the forecast of hot temperatures today appeared to be spot on. The pad was more defined than our previous visit and mostly easy to follow. But there were still some rather scrubby sections that required us to check our bearings. We completed the majority of the climbing (around 600m of ascent) after 4.5 hours with a final, scrubby ascent (much scrubbier than I remember) to the open ridge top south east of Rocky Hill. 

Now, in the heat, and with good views we made our way along the open hilltop and started our descent towards the valley below Rocky Hill - tonight's campsite. After some final, very thick scrub we emerged into the open and sparsely wooded valley below the Hill. We found good water and a suitable campsite before establishing camp.

Should we stay or should we go?

The question now, at almost 1pm, was ‘will we go and climb Camp Hill today?’. This had been put in as a potential option on our itinerary today. A five hour return walk through what was described as ‘dense scrub’ wasn’t really that appetising to us given the heat and predicted thunderstorms so after a little indecision we decided to stay put today and head to Camp Hill tomorrow. 

We spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing in the heat before the rain arrived at about 3.30pm. It became heavier throughout the rest of the afternoon. We sat under our tarp, watching. We were glad to have rested our legs this afternoon and avoided the torrential downpour. Maybe our water worries later in the trip would also be solved. Time would tell…

Day 2 - The punishment begins…

The rain and wind persisted all night, setting a challenging tone for day two. We woke early to relentless gusts and showers. Not the ideal start for a 10-day trek, but we were prepared for it. We knew what we had signed up for and were ready to face the weather head-on. Today was a self-imposed big day after yesterday's rest, with plans to ascend Camp Hill and reach Five Duck Tarn by nightfall. Despite warnings from a friend that this might be ambitious, our history of tackling massive days in tough conditions gave us confidence.

As the rain poured outside, we ate breakfast and packed up inside the tent. Donning our waterproofs in the tent vestibules, we stepped out into the rain. By 8 am, we left the shelter of our valley and began a steep climb to the top of the final ridge line to Rocky Hill. Despite our efforts, we couldn't find a clear path, so we navigated the steep incline through mist, rain, and scrub. It was tough going, but after 30 minutes, we reached the top of the ridge line.

Mist and Scrub

In the rain, we dropped our heavy packs, grabbed our daypacks, some snacks, and water, and continued on our way after a brief pause. On top of the ridge, we faced the full force of the westerly weather system head-on. We pressed forward and, after another 20 minutes, found ourselves back on the summit of Rocky Hill for the second time since our 2018 trip. We paused only briefly before setting our sights on the next objective. Camp Hill lay approximately 3 kilometres away, though it felt much farther. Shrouded in mist, we followed the adjacent ridge to the one we had just ascended and began our northeast descent to the next saddle. Despite wind and rain, the walk was pleasant as we descended through the open, low-lying scrub. However, it wasn’t long before we were climbing again toward a large knoll we needed to cross. Our pre-planned route, loaded into our watches, indicated we should go straight over the knoll. Instead, thinking we could save some effort, we decided to bypass the top and sidle around in the thickening mist. This proved to be a poor decision. We were immediately confronted with extremely dense scrub, and the next half hour was spent battling through it in pouring rain.

Fun times

All this time we were gradually sidling and descending into the next saddle where we would commence the climb towards Camp Hill. The rain continued as did the wind and it became cold. Exactly 2 hours (and 3.2km!) after departing camp we arrived in the saddle. We didn’t stop and continued on before starting the climb to Camp Hill. After about 5 minutes of climbing from the bottom of the saddle we took a 2 minute break to layer up and get warm. It was very cold! Layering up on a scrubby climb was unheard of for us but smart. We only stopped for a couple of minutes before continuing on.

We had little of intention of stopping now - the weather was getting worse and the scrub more impenetrable. Mentally, all I wanted to do was turn back but I knew that doing so would mean a return here someday. That was not happening so I continued on. I was warm within my Gore-Tex Jacket but unhappy with my current state. We still had such a long way to go until the comfort of a tent.

It was not too long however before we arrived at the final plateau that led to the summit of Camp Hill. After following the scrubby lead to the top it was good to be here despite the weather.

Summit time

We walked on the open and expansive flat topped peak and made our way over to the summit cairn. The wind was howling and the rain falling sideways. We had been walking for 3hrs 15mins (5.25km) and were very happy with our progress since the saddle. After a few brief happy snaps it was time to return from whence we came.

Speeding up

It only took us about an hour to get back to the saddle before starting the climb back up the scrubby knoll. After the inbound nightmare, we decided to take a different line on the way back and headed straight up to the top of the knoll. This proved to be a good move and we were at the top as the rain cleared and the clouds parted half an hour from the saddle.

We were elated. Despite early misgivings we were now making good time, it wasn’t pouring AND the path ahead to the packs was open ridgeline walking.

We enjoyed this section and made it back to the backs 5.5hrs after departing camp. We were very happy with these statistics. We still knew we had a long way to go but decided to stop now for a lunch while the weather was relatively clear.

Onwards to Mediation

Rugged up, we only had a brief lunch. Enough to recharge the batteries. We continued on after a 35 minute lunch break and made our way along the familiar ridge towards Mediation Hill (Also known as Junction Hill) which we had visited in 2018.

The route along the ridge largely followed a fairly good pad although it became very faint at times. We were using our previous route from this section which made things a little easier. After a 150 meter descent we arrived at another forested saddle and then climbed around 100m up to the open flanks of the hill. The mist had again rolled in and we arrived at the top of the hill to find the normally shallow tarns devoid of any water….

From here it was onwards to unknown territory and new lands for us. Again following the routes in our watches, we made a turn to the north east and started a gradual descent. The ground was maybe calf to knee high scrub and not long into the descent we found another faint pad and decided to follow it for a while. This led us to some forest where we eventually lost it and so continued on our line roughly not far off our planned route. This scenario of finding a pad and losing it in scrub continued for 1.5 hours from the top of Mediation Hill until we arrived at the bottom of the descent (and lowest altitude of the walk).

The final climb

This point found us at the headwaters of the South Eldon River - the very river we planned to finish our walk on some distance away in another weeks time…

After crossing the small stream, we again quickly lost the latest pad we had followed and started our final climb for the day.

Without the pad to follow we initially climbed a scrubby incline through forest before arriving at a small patch of button grass followed by more forest. At this point we checked our routes and realised we were now at or around the point of where we might be returning to tomorrow to tackle another peak so we took note. We were then immediately confronted with an extremely steep and muddy climb (along a strong pad) up through the forest. Clambering up while holding on to any means of secure branch or tree we slowly progressed upwards finally emerging onto more button grass after ascending around 80 meters nearly straight up.

Closing in

Exhaustion was now setting in. We had been walking for just over 10 hours and camp was calling. The rain was again holding off, which was nice, but I really didn’t want to have to deal with much more of this scrubby button grass and tea tree that we had been going through since the flanks of Mediation Hill. It was energy sapping but we trudged on. Given the terrain, it was very hard to tell how far ahead our campsite was and after another 40 minutes of not very pleasant and tired walking the tarn suddenly appeared in front of us. It was nearly 7pm and we were elated! We had views of High Dome (an objective in a couple of days time) and we had a good water source in Five Duck Tarn.

The rain was still holding off but looked ominous. That didn’t concern us right now. It was time to unpack and relax. With a day walk from here tomorrow on the cards, we knew we could setup in the comfort of having two nights here. We made ourselves comfortable and after removing a few leeches from the legs, we settled in to hot drinks, snacks and a big meal. It felt well deserved and it wasn’t long before we retired to bed.

Day 3 - To Tramontane we go

A solid night’s sleep set the tone for the day. With no need for an early alarm, we slept in until around 7am, leisurely organising ourselves over breakfast and coffee. The weather was overcast, with a constant drizzle throughout the night. Beaui’s jacket had a pit zip malfunction, but with Woolza’s help and some zip ties, it was quickly fixed to keep the water out. By 9am, we were ready to head off to the diminutive peak named Tramontane, day packs fully loaded.

On our way

The day was cool and drizzly as we retraced our steps through the button grass from the previous day. My enthusiasm was low, anticipating more button grass, scrub, and rain. We descended the steep slope we had climbed 15 hours earlier and made good time to our marked turn-off point. After crossing more button grass, we began a steep, scrubby descent, reaching a pleasant creek 50 minutes from our campsite. We took a quick break, hydrating before tackling the 250m climb ahead through scrub.

Despite my initial reluctance, we made steady progress through eucalypt forest that opened up as we ascended. An hour later, we reached the ridge line crest, pausing briefly to enjoy the views as the rain cleared. Continuing slightly downhill towards more open button grass, Tramontane came into view, not too far away. The untracked terrain was surprisingly pleasant, and we found our rhythm, setting small mental goals to keep moving forward.

The approach

After 2.5 hours, we reached the base of the ridge line leading to the peak. Entering more forest, we navigated the gradual climb towards the summit. The drizzle returned, and we began to sweat under our raincoats. On a scrubby plateau, we zigzagged between forest and scrub, encountering Tasmania’s finest vegetation—Cutting grass, Bauera, Tea tree and more. Despite the challenges, we enjoyed our progress.

Eventually, we arrived at the base of the main peak, sidling around to the north to find a way up through the forest. The scrub persisted but thinned under the tree canopy. Reaching the summit plateau, we spent another five minutes finding the highest point, arriving around four hours after leaving camp. The steady rain discouraged lingering here. The summit cairn, perched on a rock beneath trees, wasn’t spectacular, but the achievement felt significant.

Lunch in the wet

After quick photos, we began our return journey, stopping for lunch about 10 minutes off the summit in the forest’s relative shelter. We layered up and enjoyed wraps with freeze-dried tuna and cheese, sharing our satisfaction at summiting Tramontane and agreeing that none of us would return. Eager for the comfort of our tents, we kept lunch short and resumed our journey.

Retracing our inbound route, we descended steeply to the creek and climbed back through Bauera to the button grass and muddy incline, our second ascent in 24 hours. Eight hours and twenty minutes after departing, we returned to the oasis of Five Duck Tarn, elated. The drizzle continued intermittently as we set up our tarp, drying off and warming up before dinner preparations. Relaxing in our camp chairs under the shelter of the tarp, we recounted the day’s adventures and discussed plans for tomorrow. After a couple of hours of campsite relaxation and dinner, we retired, excited for what the new day would bring. Three days in - we were getting into the rhythm of things.

Day 4 - The High Dome and the scrub

By day four, we were finally delving into the more challenging sections of the walk. The journey up to this point had been a solid preparation for what lay ahead. We anticipated a tough day, expecting about 10 hours of walking.

With ample daylight, we allowed ourselves a leisurely start, setting off at 8:15 a.m. The morning was brisk, with clouds obscuring our first target, High Dome, which had been visible from camp the previous night. However, we could see the ridge line we needed to reach to officially enter the Eldon Range.

Factoring in the wind chill, it felt like 5 degrees Celsius, so I added an extra layer to stay warm. The faint path that had guided us to the campsite did not appear to continue on, so we relied on navigation to reach the ridge.

The Scrub

As we ascended, I was surprised not to overheat, probably because of the wind chill. I lingered at the back, taking photos and easing into the day. As we climbed higher on the lee side of the ridge, the scrub thickened. While the top appeared relatively open, we faced a dense wall of Scoparia and tough scrub. We formed a line and moved slowly through it.

Eventually, we split into pairs, each believing we had found a better route, but the shouts and frustrations from close by suggested otherwise. Just as we felt we were making headway, we encountered another level of scrub. The thickest kind.

This was the kind you had to push through with all your strength, eyes closed, like a tractor often having to get on all fours to ‘crawl’ sections. After persevering for an hour and a half from camp, we finally emerged near the top of the ridge line. Hallelujah!

Ridge Crest

We now quickly crested the ridge and arrived at the open top. Now, with High Dome standing over us, we dumped gear, pulled out our daypacks, filled our pockets with snacks and turned east towards the peak. The ridge was lovely walking and we made quick progress towards the base of the mountain. Within 20 minutes we were at the base of the climb and after making our way up a few scrubby bands of dolerite we then came on to a scree field that lead up to the first tower of the twin peaked High Dome.

We made good time up the scree and it steepened as we neared a gully near the peak itself. Once arriving at the gully the terrain changed to a mixture of rocky shale and loose dirt. This required us to zig zag up the gully being careful not to dislodge any larger rocks onto the person below. With the gully behind us we now arrived at the top of the first summit one hour after departing our packs.

We continued on over this first summit and then started a descent along a good pad into the saddle before making another, more gradual climb to the final peak and the main summit. This had only taken us a further 20 minutes from the first peak.

High Dome

As we arrived, the clouds parted just in time, revealing a breathtaking view. We settled down for a well-deserved break and some snacks, taking in the stunning panorama of the days ahead and the many peaks around the state, several of which we had climbed on previous adventures.

Being here filled me with joy. I had admired this peak countless times over the years as a guide and had always dreamed of visiting. Now, standing here, the view was nothing short of spectacular. Pure bliss. While the others began to move on, I lingered a bit longer to fully savour the moment. I relished the tranquility as I watched them descend. It was moments like these that inspired me to hike.

After the tranquility, a rare moment of phone reception allowed a quick call to my family. It was then my turn to depart. I made my way back down the path and soon caught up with the group. For the return journey, we chose to sidle around the first peak, leaving the path and navigating through some scrub until we found the scree field.

We navigated around the mountain, skillfully manoeuvring over large boulders until the ridge line reappeared, with our packs now mere specks in the distance. After maintaining the same contour for a while, we reconnected with our inward route. Using our watches for navigation, we retraced our steps back to the packs, completing the return in just under three hours.

Lunch of Kings

Our total walking time so far was 4 hours and 20 minutes, and we were likely only halfway through our day. With a cool breeze sweeping over the ridge and the sun shining brightly, we decided it was the perfect time for lunch. The ridge was dotted with water soaks from the recent rain, and we each selected one to settle beside for our meal.

I took the opportunity to fire up my stove, preparing a hot drink and noodles while gazing at High Dome and the peaks of Cradle Mountain-Lake St Clair to our north. The return of the sun was a welcome relief after a challenging few days of rain. We spent an hour enjoying lunch, organising our gear, and savouring the moment. But soon, it was time to press on.

At 1:45 pm, we confidently set off westward toward our next goal. The others moved ahead, while I paused briefly to again take in the tranquility. We advanced along the ridge toward a prominent knoll that lead us onwards. As we neared, a clear pad emerged, guiding us for about half an hour until we reached a spacious peak offering amazing 360-degree views. Overhead, a pair of wedge-tailed eagles soared, prompting us to take a quick break to soak in the scenery and peace.

While the others called their loved ones, I set up my camera, determined to capture some quality shots after hauling over 4kg of camera equipment. After 15 minutes of enjoying the peak, we turned north, then northwest, heading toward a saddle leading to another scrubby knoll. The path continued down to the saddle, but we lost it halfway across the light scrub. We followed our bearing and began the gradual ascent of the next, very scrubby knoll.

Scrubby Knoll

As we climbed, the scrub thickened relentlessly. We hoped it would thin out higher up, but it only worsened. Crawling on all fours, we searched for a way through. Near the top, we consulted our notes and realised they advised sidling around the knoll earlier to avoid the densest scrub. Lesson learned. We completed the short climb to the top, still engulfed in scrub with no views, 2.5hrs after leaving lunch. Without delay, we turned due west, facing what seemed like a brief descent to button grass plains leading to tonight's campsite. It felt tantalisingly close.

We continued on and commenced the descent. This side of the knoll did not improve. Thick scrub was interspersed with trees, cutting grass and all manner of thick Tasmanian vegetation AND it seemed to go on forever. We stayed in a line and powered on through it each now starting to feel the effects of a big few days walking.

Button Grass

After a 40-minute descent, we reached the base and stepped onto a button grass plain that gently sloped westward. The heat was intense, and the button grass was challenging to traverse in our weary state. Our task was to find a small group of tarns where we could set up camp. On these plains, suitable campsites are rare unless you find a dry, open spot.

We spread out, heading towards Castle Mountain, now visible in the distance. This would be our basecamp for tomorrow's climb. Eager to set up camp, I moved ahead. After what felt like an eternity, but was only about 30 minutes, I crested a small rise and spotted the first tarn. There was a small flat area, but it was too cramped for a tent. I followed the tarn's edge, using the map to locate others, but found no obvious campsite.

Search for the perfect campsite

I had imagined a perfect camping spot, but after half an hour of searching, it was clear that wasn't happening. The others were also searching, and as we called out to each other, no one had found anything suitable. Woolza returned to the spot I initially dismissed and suggested we could make it work for two tents. We gathered and agreed it was our best option—sheltered and near water. We planned to climb Castle Mountain tomorrow and possibly move on, so it would suffice for one night.

Exhausted, we dropped our packs and began setting up camp. It had been 9 hours and 25 minutes since we left Five Duck Tarn. As we set up, Crawf surprised us with a treat. On a previous trip, he had brought us Coca-Cola, and we joked he might do it again, not expecting it on such a tough journey. Yet, he revealed four cans of Coke, carried for four days to surprise us out here in the wilderness. Absolutely legendary! Crawf’s status as the best ‘non-rationed’ surprise giver was secure. We celebrated and savoured the drinks, a fantastic end to a challenging day. After the celebrations, we finished setting up and took our Helinox chairs and a warm drink to the tarn to watch the sunset over Eldon Bluff—a perfect conclusion to the day.

Day 5 - The Castle

Night four was a test of endurance with relentless rain and fierce winds. As we settled in for the night, the gusts began, soon joined by heavy downpours. The wind intensified, much like on our first night, battering our exposed campsite.

By 7am, we were up and assessing our options. The conditions made it clear: attempting Castle Mountain today meant staying put and most likely not moving campsites as we had originally planned. After a discussion between the tents, we resolved to wait for a break in the weather before tackling the mountain.

Reports suggested a 4-6 hour round trip from our camp, through tough, scrubby terrain. It all sounded very unappetising and none of us were particularly eager for this 'optional' side trip. We spent the morning reading, sipping hot drinks, and snacking, regaining some energy. It was reassuring to see my relatively new tent withstand the harsh Tasmanian weather so well.

Time to make a move

By 10:30am, with no change in the weather, we decided it was time to move. We knew we might not return to this spot, so we seized the moment to tackle the peak. After organising day packs and getting fully setup in all our wet weather gear, we stepped out of the tents into the rain and wind to commence the initial section which continued along yesterdays button grass incline.

Fully equipped with my outer shell and thermal layer, I was ready for the climb. We swiftly ascended the button grass incline towards the mountain. As we advanced, the button grass gave way to open terrain, and within 40 minutes, we reached the defined base, marking the start of our climb to the peak. The terrain transitioned into a mix of scrub and forest, positioning us almost directly below the main summit.

The climb

We anticipated a challenging scrub, but our chosen path promised a more direct route to the peak. In single file, we began our ascent, navigating through the initial scrub into a low, open forest. The climb intensified, and we made excellent progress. Within five minutes, we reached a small clearing with a cairn. Given past experience in similar terrains we knew that often where there was one cairn, we could maybe find another. Spotting another cairn, we decided to follow this route, hoping it would lead us to the peak.

Our pace quickened as we followed the faint pad connecting each cairn. The steep climb allowed us to ascend rapidly, offering glimpses through the mist back to our campsite. Despite the rain, we were sheltered from the westerly wind on this side of the peak. Occasionally losing the pad for a couple of brief periods, we pressed on until we found shelter among rocks just below the summit ridge.

Summit time

The gale-force winds howled above, but we took a moment to prepare before crossing the top. As we crested the ridge, we faced the full force of a Tasmanian westerly. Crawf and I reached the summit moments before Woolza and Beaui, completing the climb in just 1 hour and 20 minutes. We were thrilled with our speed! The wind was deafening, so we quickly snapped some photos before retreating to the shelter below the summit ridge.

After a brief snack, we retraced our steps down the mountain, grateful for the 'relatively easy' path we had discovered. It was a highlight on such a bleak day. We returned to the base of the peak in just over 30 minutes and made swift progress back to camp, navigating the occasional scrubby band. We arrived back at our tents 2 hours and 40 minutes after departing, pleased with our unexpectedly quick journey despite the weather.

Deciding to stay at the campsite for another night, we stripped off our wet gear and settled into the comfort of our tents, ready to relax and enjoy the rest of the afternoon. Hopefully, the next day would bring better weather.