Mount Bogong 2015

MOUNT BOGONG 
(or "Running with the Bear")

(from the Bogong to Hotham (B2H) website)

History of the Bogong to Hotham Event

In the days when technology didn't count for very much, a lone skier, Charles Derrick, attempted a marathon ski trek from Mountain Creek to Mt. Hotham.  An arduous journey at the best of times.  An impossible one in a blizzard.

In September 1965, Charles Derrick set out in a late winter burst of foul weather using equipment that lacks the sophistication of modern day technology.  His endurance and tenacity were supreme as he kept skiing through horrendous gales, fighting fatigue.

Graeme Wheeler, in his book "Walk The Timeless Land", poignantly writes, "He had pushed almost thirty miles of terrain beneath his skis, had gained and dropped over 9000 feet.  Within a mile and a half of his objective the weather had pounded him to a halt, frozen, exhausted".

A cairn now marks the spot close to Mt. Hotham where Charles Derrick perished.

Cheery stuff.  Who wouldn't want to give it a crack !

I had seen photos and reports about this run, and had been keen to give it a try for a few years.  I was very aware that this race has quite a recent history of cancellations due to either bush fire concerns or poor weather, but decided to enter and hope for the best.  It was cancelled mid race in 2012 (blizzard conditions) and again in 2013 (bush fires). Eric and I had both entered the 2015 running of the 64km B2H run and were hoping for the best.  However, with accommodation booked and an eight hour drive down with the wife, immediately upon arrival at Tawonga on the Friday afternoon I was greeted by Eric who informed me that sadly it was cancelled yet again.  Oh well.

Of course as Saturday progressed, the weather began to look quite mild, and by Saturday evening Mt Bogong was being bathed in a warm summer glow.  My wife and I had discussed doing the climb Saturday, but opted for a drive to Mt Hotham instead.  Eric and I decided to make tentative plans for a run up to the summit on Sunday morning.  Of course it then began hammering down rain during the night, but by morning it had slowed to less than a drizzle.  By the time we began our ascent, it was a lovely warm morning.  The first section is rainforest like, and was actually quite muggy and humid.

If we had been officially running, we would have been racing a 6 hour cut off time to the 35km (sort of half way) mark.  I had been reliably informed that to do this, we should be aiming to reach the summit of Bogong in under two hours (2km of fire trail, then 6km with about 1380m of elevation), so that was a rough goal for our morning.

Of course the 2 hour goal was influenced by a few factors.  We weren't following a bunch of other crazies, so we slowed a few times to make sure we were on the right track.  We also stopped to take photos and just gawk around at the amazing views.  At one point I came across a wallaby hiding away, that didn't seem to want to move, and I didn't want it to as I slowly walked closer to take pictures.  I should also mention that Eric had managed to sneak in a 28km run through the mountains the day before, and I suspect was feeling it a little.  Of course with the run cancelled I had stayed up late drinking beers which didn't help much either.

As we climbed, the expression "above the tree line" began to take on meaning.  It was amazing to see how the vegetation changed so dramatically.  It was also about here that the wind began sounding like a jet engine, and we began to get hit by huge blasts.  I guess the wind affects what is able to grow, and without trees the wind seems stronger.  After running up a mountain and getting all wet and sweaty, you do notice the wind chill factor a bit.

I had been wondering if at some point we should stop and put on jackets, when suddenly we emerged into an exposed section and it was very clearly time to cover up, especially since we were now soaking with sweat.  We had passed another runner coming down, and he had told us he had turned back before the top.  I had wondered about this, but no longer.  I have to admit that had Eric not been with me, I would have seriously considered turning back at this point. I also knew that if I had tried this yesterday with the lovely wife, when the weather was worse, we would have turned back long ago.

Towards the top there were points were I was toppling over from the gusts, as I tried to rig up my hood to cover my cheeks which were slowly turning into ice blocks from the drizzle, mist, and wind chill.  I had imagined climbing the cairn at the summit for a photo, but by the time we got there, I had given up that foolish notion.  I didn't think Eric would be too keen to search for me after I was blown off the top and deposited somewhere in the distance.  Despite all our fluffing about, we had reached the summit in just a tick over 2 hours.

After taking some quick photos and chomping down on whatever was handy in our packs, it was time for a quick descent.  No use hanging around for a chat because we couldn't really hear each other speak.  Dropping away from the summit, more sun was breaking through.  I kept trying to snap photos, but by the time I had got the camera out, and steadied myself against the wind, another big roll of mist usually covered everything back up again.  It was far more spectacular than my photos could possibly capture.  

Off the summit, we began encountering a multitude of runners heading up.  Some seemed confused when we said it was hectic up there, as it had seemed so nice so far.  That's OK.  We had thought the same way ourselves not so long ago.

We stopped at Bivouac Hut to remove layers of clothing.  Back in the trees, it was suddenly much warmer and drier.  A quick drink and a quick toilet break, and it was time for the final race to the bottom.  Eric took the lead and I tried to keep up (my legs are still recovering).  We passed a steady stream of runners as we descended, all out for a consolation run like us no doubt.  Along the way we heard a massive "CRASH" as a tree fell down almost next to us, probably reinforcing the choice to cancel the race was the right one.  Of course, this also makes me think what the hell we were all doing out here.

Now this is a multiple choice section.

The last 2km were fire trail.  This bit is cut by many creeks, with little side detours to bridges that cross the creeks.  These detours are all rather over grown.  As Eric ploughed on ahead through the overgrowth, I heard the sound that only a grown man can make when he has just leaped over a snake.  I slowed down, and found Eric; 

A) doing a Bear Grylls impersonation, laying face down over the snake, pinning it down with his body, and telling me to walk across his back to safety, or

B) pointing nervously at some bushes saying "it's still there"

(hint - it's definitely B, and to be fair it was a good size snake)

We eventually managed to reach the car safely.

Afterwards I did hear discussions about whether the event should have been held.  Possibly it could have, given how the conditions held up, and possibly improved.  However, if the weather events predicted had arrived, well it could have been ugly.  Maybe the elites would have powered through, but for mid and back of the pack athletes (like me), some with minimal outdoor experience, it could all have ended badly.  There were also a shit load of trees down, and I have no idea what it might have been like along the length of the course.  Later in the day, standing at the bottom looking up at the summit from a safe distance, it was still shrouded with cloud up there.  Several days later, the weather did manage to arrive and there was indeed all kinds of havoc across Victoria.  Who knows.  Maybe I could have had an awesome tale to tell, or maybe folks would be talking about how they never found my body.  In any case, I did get to get to the top of Bogong (on foot) and Hotham (in a car) so I did sort of get to do the event, but with lots of eating and drinking, and a movie and a warm bed in between.  Maybe I'll do it officially at a later date.

alright, I stole this photo from the web because I forgot to do it myself

somewhere in there is a wallaby

yep, he's still there

alright, here's a clue

after a while the dense growth begins to open out

lots of trees down

the vegetation changes very quickly as you climb

suddenly you hit exposed sections

somewhere up there is the summit

Eric running

see Eric run

see Eric run against the wind

a bit cold and wet and windy

seconds before it was a glorious view

Eric still running

the tree line

where fires have raced through in previous years

Bivouac Hut

one of several little bridges over a creek

look at all that lovely long snakey grass

Safely back.  Me and Bear

Rob and Cait go caravanning

Rob and Cait go caravanning

Being the crazy man I am, I just had to enter a run that was a) in another state and b) had a history of being cancelled. The lovely Cait decided that she would accompany me on this adventure. I had been looking at cheapest possible accommodation options, and had happened upon Tawonga Caravan Park. Originally I had tried booking a cabin, but none were left, so the lovely Cait agreed that if no cabins were available, then a caravan would have to do.

DAY 1

Car packed, we headed off early Friday for a 7-8 hour drive to Victoria. 

Music selection is essential on a long trip.  Initially 2WS FM kept us going, but eventually faded, so after clearing the outskirts of Sydney, on went the Partridge Family (yes, we are  tragic), and the Karaoke Express was up and running.  The Bee Gees also got blasted as we rocked along the road to Gundagai hitting those high notes.

We stopped for lunch at Gundagai.  A wall of heat hit us as we emerged from our air conditioned cocoon of comfort to eat and take photos. We parked, carried the esky 100 metres, then drove the car over to where we had just carried the esky.  Obviously those high notes had affected our brains.

 

A blurry selfie with Dog on the Tuckerbox. Note the strap of high tech expensive camera around Cait's neck

Then it was back on the Hume Highway to Victoria.  For the first time in my life I drove over the mighty Murray as we headed off to Tawonga.  We had a few nervous moments following my beautifully hand drawn map that seemed to bear absolutely no resemblance to where we were driving, but we got there somehow.  As we approached the caravan park we passed the delightful Mountain Creek Motel.  Cait politely enquired why we were staying in a caravan when there was a perfectly lovely motel nearby - or words to that effect.  I will leave the translating up to you, dear reader.  I would just add that there is a reason why she loves me, and when I discover what that is, I will share it with you in another blog.

The rain was falling in a soft romantic way (I thought) as we unpacked the car and settled into caravan life.  Then we had the first of many picturesque walks to the amenities block.  As we did, we discovered that a local business was selling wood fired pizzas, so we were set for a great first night in out little home on wheels.  We had all the key ingredients to a perfect weekend away, which are as follows;

alcohol

pizza

and LOVE !!

At that point Eric arrived to let me know that the Bogong to Hotham run had just been cancelled.  Oh well.  C'est la vie and all that stuff.  More time to eat, drink, and play scrabble (which I won the first night).  Our neighbours had Neil Diamond blasting next door ("sweet Caroline BAH BAH BAH") so not all bad.  We also got the chance to listen to a young fellow doing impersonations of boguns from Queensland.  "I'm from Queensland AY".  He kept this up for about half an hour until I realised that he was no longer doing impersonations and pretty much spoke like that anyway.  We also passed the time by Cait asking me to work out the chords to The Partridge Family theme song on my guitar so we could have a little sing-a-long.  Come on get happeeeeeee !!!! 

DAY 2

Day 2 saw us contemplating a few options.  We did consider a walk up to the top of Mount Bogong, but given the dodgy weather, decided a drive to Mt Hotham and then a beer at the Bright Brewery might be a better option (note - this was an incredibly better option as it turned out. More on this later). 

We set out in the rain for Mount Hotham for the most terrifying ride of my life.  For some reason, a little tiny switch in my brain decided to click onto to the "be afraid, be very afraid setting" as we ascended the narrow winding road to the summit of Hotham.  Despite the lovely Cait driving in a very safe and responsible manner, all I could see were precipitous drops as I hallucinated scenarios of out of control slides over the edge resulting in exploding fireballs of death as our shattered bodies were flung like broken rag dolls across the alpine mountain sides.  I have never been so scared in my life, I shit you not.  It didn't help much when Cait asked "are you really that scared?", and when I answered "YES" she cackled and took her hands off the wheel as she yelled "look, no hands !!"  Hilarious dear wife.

We are all going to die.

What was louder ? the sound of wheels pushing aside sheets of water, or my screams of "you are going over 40 !".  You decide.

look at that car driving along that terrifyingly narrow little tiny ledge that is supposed to be a road

Cait hooning along at well over 40km.  Slow down woman !!

foggy, wet, narrow, no guard rails - perfect driving conditions

blurry bushes indicative of our high speed - ZOOM

More bushes blurred by our excessive speeding - WHOOSH

Eventually we reached the top and I could calm down a bit.  Of course it took a while to remove my hands from the door handles, and then we went for a nice ramble to the top of Hotham.

Hotham Village

Then it was time for another ride down the mountain.  More screaming.  We hit the Bright Brewery and it was all worthwhile.  An Amber Ale to soothe the nerves. Also had time to duck into Woolworths where Cait was nearly trampled by a deranged woman reinventing ways to get ahead of others in a queue.  We also discovered the fantastic local Cloud 9 cinema, and decided to make tomorrow afternoon "date night".  On the way back we stopped at the lookout that earlier in the day was fogged out.  Now it was only partly fogged out, but an indicator of possibly why the race was cancelled, considering that weather forecasts had predictions of a "major weather event".

a Bogong moth

Then it was back to the van for another fun night of Scrabble (which I won again - to be fair I got all the good letters while Cait had nothing but vowels).  As we played, we "eavesdropped" on the youngsters next door as they discussed life's great issues at the top of their voices ("do you reckon I'll get a root tonight ?") We also hit the BBQ area for a chat with the locals.  Actually, I wandered off and left Cait exchanging recipes and continuing her education in the ways of caravan park life with the women who had been coming there for years.  As my soy sausages sizzled, I gazed upon the mighty Mt Bogong which was now bathed in a beautiful warm golden glow, and wondered yet again why the lovely Cait puts up with me.

Day 3

Day 3 was supposed to be "race day", but sadly it wasn't.  I had made tentative plans with Eric to climb Bogong if the weather wasn't too horrific, which of course it wasn't. See Running with the Bear for more details about this adventure.

Eric and I arrived back at the caravan park, whereupon Cait told me some yarn about being "locked out" and asking the fellow next door to "help her out".  Honestly, what is the world coming too when you can't leave your wife alone for a few hours without some random trying to park his thongs under your (foam mattress on a sheet of timber) bed.

After a shower (apparently I was smelly and sweaty and sticky), Cait and I headed back to Bright to see "St Vincent" with Bill Murray at the wonderful Cloud 9 Cinema.  What a great place.  Definitely the most comfy seats ever put in a cinema - and right next to the Bright Brewery.

After the movie we had a quick shop at Woolworths (this time without being bowled over by a local nut job), and I picked up a nice six pack of Pale Ale from the Bright Brewery.  We also strolled along the river where we discovered the local water park and kids having more fun than should be allowed.  Water slides, diving boards, water fights.  Next time I'm wearing my Speedos to town.

As we drove through the caravan park, Cait asked "do they just sit there all day and drink ?"  Yes they do lovely Cait - welcome to life in a caravan park (the kids, however, spend all day riding bikes, swimming in the river and playing board games and have a life time of happy memories that sees them returning lemming-like for years to come - just like I was doing).  Back at the van we settled into catching up on the days events at the caravan park as our young friends next door did shots and discussed that days hangovers and rooting.  Then another round of Scrabble where Caiti kicked my butt.  The things that happen in Tawonga.

(note: I grew up in and around caravan parks, was reliving my childhood, and was loving every minute of our stay.  Cait will no doubt look back  in many years to come and fondly wonder where four days of her life went)

Day 4

Sadly all good things must come to an end, and today was the day.  We had made tentative plans  to go and climb Kosciuszko, but given weather predictions, had canned that idea and rearranged to head off early.  I was touched when Cait agreed that we should head home a day sooner.  I knew how much she was loving her life in a caravan.  I think she had a tear as we began driving away, already missing our first thing in the morning and last thing at night walks to the toilet block, thongs a slapping.  She had recovered slightly by the time we handed our van key in at the office, but when I suggested we could come back again next year, she started crying some more.  Don't worry lovely Cait, Tawonga will always be there waiting.   

Cait so sad to leave (with our rootin' tootin', shots shootin', bogon impersonating mate looking on in the background "AY")

Of course, as we headed off, the valley was bathed in the most beautiful warm morning sun.  If only all that golden goodness had arrived a day or two earlier, then instead of sitting comfortably, I would instead be in the car cramping, sore, dehydrated, head achy and blistered after running 64km from Bogong to Hotham.  Oh, what might have been.  Then it was time to pop Meatloaf into the CD player, warm up the vocal cords, and start rocking our way home like the Bat Out Of Hell couple that we are.