To the top of the continent, and then home...

The Tassie ferry landed us in Melbourne about 6:30 AM on November 14, and as soon as we could get rolling we blasted north out of the city on the M31 freeway.  Our plan for the day was to get as close to Mt. Kosciuszko as possible, in order to make the hike to the summit the next day.

This flooded valley is the Lake Hume reservior, near Tallangatta. In the 50's, the town of Tallangatta had to be relocated as the reservior filled. For some reason, many of these drowned trees are still standing.

Here is one of the best examples of a typical Aussie pickup, on the highway. 

These flatbeds are apparently easy to convert for various uses, and often are equipped with racks and canvas canopies.  Most are real simple ranch trucks, in galvanized steel.  This sweet diamond-plate aluminum unit was the nicest one we saw.

Our first look at the Snowy Mountains National Park, and the Mt. Kosciuszko massif.  There were still patches of snow on the highest places.

A Blue-tongued lizard, another traffic victim.

You don't get many chances to ride an emu, eh?

We found a nice campsite alongside the Thredbo River, just a few miles away from the route we would take up Kosciuszko the next morning.  This whole area was burned several years ago, but is rebounding nicely.

According to the guys working the riffles, the Thredbo is "Australia's premier trout stream".  Most other waters are affected by farming runoff, or else get too warm for healthy trout.
When I asked about the fishing in Tasmania, the men said, "Oh yeah, there's great trout down there..."

Not being fisherfolk, we just relaxed.  And how else to really relax, when the grass seems to be crawling with little ants, than to simply elevate your position?

The rushing stream was such a sweet sound, we had to deploy Matt's ant-proof tent in order to enjoy it.

Thredbo Village is a ski resort.   We took a chairlift from there, up to the alpine trail to the summit.

Our shortcut ride to the alpine zone.

From the top of the lift, at 6100', we started our hike to the highest point on the Australian continent.

It happened to be a beautiful day, which was great because it was the only day we had to make the hike.
The route gets a lot of traffic (when it's not covered in snow), so the park folks have constructed a pathway to protect the tundra for the entire four miles to the summit.  It starts out as paving stones, but the majority of the trail is a raised steel grating.

We walked across a small stream, the headwaters of the famous Snowy River.

As we neared the highest ground, snow covered some patches of the trail.

Sue hikes the last bit to the top.  The altitude did not seem to create any problems for us.

The top!  2,228 meters, or metres, or 7,310 feet.  (Obviously, I'm just a bit higher than Sue....)

Here is a SPOT check-in link I created at the summit.  Click it to open a Google map.  You can zoom in or out, look at the map view, a satellite view, or terrain to see the contour lines.

http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=-36.45587,148.26346&ll=-36.45587,148.26346&ie=UTF8&z=12&om=1

This shot shows some of the elevated steel grating, built over and around the granite and the vegetation.

How could I not try a boot ski off the top of Australia?
(Click the arrow)

Looking down from the top of the ski lift on Thredbo Village.

Sue coming down the lift with the fanny packs (hey, remember to raise that bar!). 
I decided to run down the hill and save $7 (Australian).
I surprised myself by doing it much faster than the speed of the lift.  Sue had joked about saving me a beer at the camper, so I met her at the bottom holding a cold one!

Here is the road sign warning us to watch out for emus (we didn't see any that day).  This was the last picture we took in our collection of Aussie road signs.

From the Snowy Mts., we drove up towards Sydney, with just one more day to get the van cleaned up for return to the outfit and to get ourselves packed to fly home.  We stopped in Cambelltown to post a couple of boxes in the mail, and to get on the internet for a bit.  Strangely, we stumbled into the same downtown hole-in-the-wall internet spot we had been at some four weeks earlier, completely by accident, from the opposite direction.  We did not even remember Campbelltown; it was rather bizarre to realize we had made a huge circle.

We spent the afternoon near Bondi Beach in Sydney, then headed for a camper park we found on the net that seemed close to the airport.  While we were trying to follow the city driving directions we had printed, we drove into a huge thunderstorm and managed to get lost in the heavy rain.  I pulled out of the traffic to try to get my bearings and avoid the scary lightning, and we were amazed to find ourselves right on top of the park!  Another incredible break on a weird day.

The lady at the park told us to that we were just minutes away from the camper van garage (which we really didn't realize), so we could then relax about the last day's connections.  We washed the van the next morning, got packed, and drove the van to the shop.  They were pleased with the condition of the camper and gave us our entire deposit back!  A short cab ride to the airport and we were ready to go.  We thought...

After the normal check-in and boarding process, we got onto our jet, and then sat and waited.  There was a malfunction, an extended delay, the air got very warm, then another malfunction, the plane got hotter, we sat there without moving for over three hours.  I had to pour their cold water down my shirt in order to survive.  Finally we were allowed to go back into the terminal and were given drink vouchers (some people used them for food).  Long story short, we finally blasted off and made the long flight to Los Angeles (coming back towards the east, we gained back the calendar day we had lost on the way over, so after fourteen hours of flying, we arrived in LA "earlier" than we left Sydney).  Due to the delayed flight, we missed our next connection, but it all worked out eventually and we were only about an hour late getting to Anchorage.  The weather was cold and clear and it felt wonderful!  Jeanie and baby Jonas picked us up, we all spent the night at Marcia's and drove to Seward the next day; home on November 18.

Jonas (12 weeks old) and his Mormor

What a great trip, wonderful times.  I still dream about Australia nearly every night.  Our tans are fading, but the memories will last forever.

Thanks to everyone who has followed us on this blog, and especially to those who took time to make comments.  The blog was fun to try, and getting feedback makes it seem more like we are sharing.

King Soloman Cave, and more

We finally had to move on from the Frecinet Peninsula and head to the north end of Tassie, where we would catch our ferry back to the mainland. Our first stop was at the King Soloman's Mine cave. There were two developed caves in this area, near Mole Creek, but we were hoping to catch up with some rowers in Launceston and didn't want to spend the whole day underground.

We couldn't figure out this sign, but of course Harold insisted on standing there.

The cave was very cool, and the guide told her stories well.  It is a "dry" cave; there is no longer any stream running through, but there is moisture seepage through the roof, and even long, hanging tree roots covered in mineral deposits in one spot.

We had quite a few people with us, including a couple of children who really did not understand that "do not touch" meant you can't jump onto the formations.

This guy stands guard near the cave.

We traveled back through Mole Creek where we found a giant Tasmanian Devil to take our picture by, a visitor information center to buy gifts and spend some time on the internet, and we found a POST where we mailed our post cards. The very friendly postmaster also told me I could pay our parking ticket from Adelaide right there instead of mailing the City a check. Wasn't that convenient? We were actually looking forward to mailing them a check from the U.S. and letting them figure out the exchange rate. It turns out that the little tiny community of Mole Creek was very helpful.

Our time was limited due to catching the ferry, and the rowers from Launceston, the North Esk Rowing Club, were unable to schedule a row during our last two days. We were disappointed to not meet them, but they did promise to come to Alaska and row with us some day. We only had time to walk down by the North Esk River and saw some High School rowers and this pretty little Fairy Wren.

Our final Tasmanian camp site was at Gravelly Beach in Rose Park. We camped with two other camper vans at a rest area that had all the amenities. A very beautiful spot and the kids in the other campers were fun to visit with.

Our last stops in Tasmania before departure from Devonport on the "Spirit of Tasmania" were at the Platypus House, and my second cousin Mary Lou's house. (I looked it up, we are second cousins).

We spotted the Platypus House on our way to Mary Lou's.

Our pictures of the little guys themselves are very hard to see. At the House, they are able to travel through tunnels from the big pool into cavelike boxes, and then through other tunnels to viewing tanks.

See his bright little eyes?

The tunnel up is on the right.

The guide, Sue, was informative and clearly felt very strongly about the challenges that the platypus face in modern Australia.

The Platypus House also had an "Echidna Garden", a big room set up to be like a natural garden area.
Watching the echidnas lap up a bug gruel with their long tongues was very cool.

Harold took these pictures of Mary Lou's old family portraits, with some of our family connections.

The lovely dark-haired young woman standing in the back on the right is my Grandma, Ruby (Hulsey) Goodwin. The pretty young woman standing on the left behind her husband, is Mary Lou's Grandma, Bessie (Hulsey) Vann.

The picture with the little boy and girl is Mary Lou's uncle Charlie, and her mother, Mabel.

My Grandma, Ruby, would later marry Ira Goodwin and have four children, one of which is my father Gene. So Mary Lou's mother, Mabel, and my father, Gene, are cousins.

The ferry ride was all night on Friday the 13th of November. We were told that the upper lounge deck had no more room for "chair" reservations, so we had to pay for a room. That turned out to be a good thing, as the Harley Davidson club was back on board for the return trip to the mainland and the upper lounge area was not a good place to get some sleep. We were able to get a good nights rest so we could roar off the ferry and head to Mt. Kosciuszko for a last hurrah, before heading back to Sydney and the flight home.

Melbourne again.