Kosciuszko

December 2019, Australia - A large wombat was roaming outside our camper van as I drew the curtains open and prepared for the day ahead. Before we got married in January, my wife Robin and I took a pre-wedding trip to Australia to drive up the SE coast from Melbourne to Sydney (FYI, it’s a lot farther than it looks on a map). Being on a Seven Summits quest, we of course had to take a detour inland to Mount Kosciuszko in Australia’s Snowy Mountains. Standing at 7,310 feet, it’s quite diminutive compared to Denali or Mount Everest, and is shrouded in controversy as to whether it truly is the “seventh summit” due to lack of real mountaineering challenges. Many argue that Carstensz Pyramid in Papua New Guinea should represent the broader “Oceania” due to it being much taller and MUCH more technical. Still, I consider Kosciuszko part of the seven summits, and a few years ago a friend of mine, Dr Paul Pottinger, helped seal it for me this way:

Paul: “Are the seven summits the highest peaks on each of the continents?”

Me: “Yes”

Paul: “Is Australia a continent?”

Me: “Yes”

Paul: “Is Kosciuszko the highest peak in Australia?”

Me: “Well, yes, er… I guess that settles it!”

By the way, Paul has a great climbing and seven summits website of his own, and I highly encourage you to check it out.

While there would be no roping up, leaping over crevasses, or dodging icefall on this climb, I was still a little nervous about what the day would bring. I mean, what if I rolled my ankle or something and had to tell people that I failed on my attempt to summit Kosciuszko?! I’d have to retire from the sport altogether in shame!

We’d camped the night before about an hour away from the Snowy Mountains and the small alpine village of Thredbo where we’d begin our hike. Brush fires were raging across the states of Victoria and New South Wales and the morning sun was glowing a pinkish hue. It made for a beautiful morning, but the fires were (and are) absolutely devastating so if you have the means please take a moment to donate to the Australian Red Cross.

Driving up to Thredbo was beautiful with dense eucalyptus trees flanking either side of the road and the growing mountains ahead. Thredbo itself is a perfectly nice, though fairly standard ski resort town. Of course, we had to get oriented and visit the local info desk for a trail map which set us straight on how to get to the summit. The route actually starts off at the base of a ski resort and ascends four kilometers to the top of a ridge 2500 vertical feet above. For a moment I considered taking a lift to the ridge, but the purist in me told me to buckle down and do it the real way. From the top of the ridge it’s another 6-7 kilometers across alpine meadows to the true summit of Kosciuszko.

"While not as extreme as Aconcagua, or committing as Denali, or exotic as Kilimanjaro, this was still a continental high-point and a lifelong goal half a world away from home."

Starting from the parking lot in Thredbo, we followed the Merritt Nature trail past a mini bobsled course and up into a dense eucalyptus forest. Since it was summer, the ski resort was filled with mountain bikers and we could see and hear them riding by and hitting jumps on parallel trails. After less than a kilometer, the trail crossed a small creek and angled up quite steeply with tall quadriceps burning steps. Robin, at 5’1” was having a harder time with the tall steps than I was, but she powered through. After an hour of climbing we made it to a small ledge with a good view of Thredbo and the valley below. I was pleased with how far we’d come and both of us were feeling strong and energetic. We both exclaimed how nice it was to escape the van for an extended period of time after putting in some long days of driving since leaving Melbourne earlier that week. Continuing up, we passed a pair of trail workers who indicated we were close to cresting the ridge, and sure enough the trees started to thin out and give way to open and windswept alpine meadow. All of a sudden the terrain looked more like the Scottish Highlands than anything you would expect to see in Australia.

Traversing under the ski lift, we’d ascended the ridge in fewer than 90 minutes, much faster than the 3-4 hours suggested by the trail map. We were quite proud of ourselves to say the least. The view from the ridge was terrific and I made note of the “beer here” sign outside Australia’s highest restaurant, the Eagles Nest. “We’ll have to visit that on the way down,” I noted to Robin who looked at me knowingly. Instead we pressed on in a steady wind.

While the trail to the top of the ridge was a typical “dirt trail” as you would normally expect to see when hiking, I can't believe I even need to make that distinction, the remainder of the climb was on a smooth, elevated metal platform. It was the Four Seasons of trails. At first I couldn't believe my eyes, for laid out in front of us like a vast metal ribbon or some extensive modern art installation, was was a rust colored metal causeway leading up and out of sight. “Well, I guess that’s the way.”

Mount Kosciuszko itself did not come into view for some time, but the flat and consistent metal surface meant we could move very quickly. My calves were aching with the speed as the kilometers and elevation fell away in what felt like no time at all. The route at this point was beautiful, but fairly homogeneous with grassy meadows rolling away into the hazy smoke beyond. We crested two small ridges before our hiking highway gave way to a cobblestone path that corkscrewed circuitously to the top of the mountain. There was quite a bit of snow on the southern slope, but having spent years in the alpine and ascended dozens of serious peaks, the mountain didn't instill even the slightest shiver of fear or apprehension. It looked downright friendly and benign. In truth, I wondered if we’d see any sheep up there although I knew that wouldn't be the case. Instead it was kids on summer break begging their mom for a snack.

All of that aside, I was nonetheless excited to get to the summit and stand atop my fifth of the seven summits. While not as extreme as Aconcagua, or committing as Denali, or exotic as Kilimanjaro, this was still a continental high-point and a lifelong goal half a world away from home.

Rounding the final bend, the man made pedestal making the summit came into view and Robin and I ascended the final steps to the summit. It was a great feeling as we celebrated this victory, standing together as the highest couple in all of Australia. Although Robin was a lot more moved by the experience than I was, this being her first of the seven summits, it was a truly special moment and I felt very privileged to be there. Cheers to number five! Two more (big ones) to go…

After a rapid descent from the summit to the top of the ski resort, we commemorated the experience with an ice cold Kosciuszko Pale Ale. It couldn't have been more perfect!