Rams Heads: Kangaroo and Dead Horse
Return to Part 4: The Tail of the Kangaroo
The night had been calm and quiet, for which I was grateful since this camp was our most exposed yet. I’d slept well, perhaps once more helped by being so tired. When I woke the sun was already shining on the tent, and groundlarks1 were chirping. The sky was flawless blue. Northward the Main Range stood out in perfect clarity, while the valleys below us to the south were filled with cloud.
There had been condensation in the tent overnight, so we draped our sleeping bags over rocks to dry while we had breakfast. Last night we’d used up virtually all the water I’d collected for camp, but we still had ample drinking water, so used that for our hot drinks. One muesli bar was all I could eat, but at least it was something.
Sunrise at Kangaroo camp. We were well above the cloud filling the valleys to the south.
Today would be a long day, as after walking to the car we’d be driving home to Melbourne2. That was incentive enough to make an early start, so we got our camp packed up and set off towards the steel walkway. I made an inauspicious start by putting my foot in a hole concealed by the low bushes and falling over, luckily with no damage.
What a difference it made being able to see where I was going on this ridge! Navigation was far easier than yesterday, and I was able to get a proper fix on where we’d ended up last night. Our camp was a little short of where I’d planned, but it was only ever a vague target. As luck would have it, if we’d continued another half a kilometre we’d have reached a lovely little creek with space for a tent.
Perfect conditions for the last of Kangaroo Ridge.
As we brushed through the low, flower-covered bushes, hundreds of tiny moths fluttered out. Perhaps they formed part of the diet of the groundlarks — these birds were plentiful, but what they found to eat here on the desolate ridge was a mystery to me. And as always, whenever we were near water we heard frogs croaking. I found some tadpoles swimming along the muddy bottom of a little pool, wiggling to take cover when they noticed us.
There was a rocky rise ahead of us, but not feeling the need to climb it I turned left to shortcut over to the steel walkway. I was surprised to hear voices, and saw someone walking our way apparently in search of water, then a second person. Our shortcut worked well, and we had one last pleasant wander amongst the granite boulders before our off-track walking was done.
About to reach the steel walkway.
On the steel walkway we turned south towards the top of the chairlift. Above us to our right was the end of the Rams Head Range, and in fact what we were looking at was the rocky rim of the valley we overlooked from our first night’s camp.
The walkway was delightfully smooth compared to the lumpy grass, and we breezed along. We had it to ourselves for a while, then the chairlift started up and we faced a continuous stream of daywalkers heading the other way.
A little way above the top station of the Kosciuszko chairlift we arrived at the junction for the track down to the Cascades trailhead3. We walked a short way off the main track and found a quiet spot with good views for a tea break. A solitary raven strutted around the grass nearby, hunting for insects.
With a large descent required to reach the road, I’d naïvely assumed the track would simply drop straight down. So I was surprised, not to mention disappointed, to find the track heading uphill, albeit gently. It skirted the southern side of the Rams Head Range, and crossed a couple of tiny streams running down from the heights. With the day so clear, the views went for miles into the blue distance.
Waiting for a lift.
The track surface was laid with granite rocks which, though durable and blending nicely with the landscape, weren’t pleasant to walk on. They were irregular in size and shape, making it difficult to stride out. Further down we passed a work site where more of the track was being laid this way. The rocks were flown in by helicopter in huge bags and, given the amount of such track we’d seen, hundreds of tonnes of rock was being used. The NSW Parks and Wildlife Service must be spending a fortune on what is a relatively minor track. The contrast to back home was stark: Parks Victoria is so crippled that any track temporarily closed either takes years to reopen, or remains closed forever.
The track peaked, and began descending towards the ridge we’d follow down to the road. To our right, the ragged profile of the Rams Heads continued on: Turtle Mountain close by, South Rams Head further along, and more rocky peaks beyond. I was glad to see them again — the Rams Heads had been a highlight of the walk, wild and beautiful and lonely. It was scenery like this that made the hardships worthwhile.
Farewell to the Rams Heads: the south peak is on the right, with the minor peaks running left (southwest).
Heading down the ridge we passed a tree-encircled tor to the side of the track. The rock pile was evidently inhabited by a flock of ravens: while only a handful were visible, we could hear many, many more hidden amongst the boulders talking to each other.
Raven Tor, and we’re about to be back in the trees.
Reaching the treeline felt like a significant milestone: this was the first time we’d been in a forest in four days, and I appreciated the shade. We came across a few gigantic snow gums, healthy and growing, that had somehow escaped the fire that claimed so many others.
Many of the glades were filled with swathes of candle heath. The scent from their flowers filled the air with a sweet perfume. It was a simple pleasure, but one we’d missed while up on the tops.
The track dropped steadily down the ridge, which was a pleasantly easy way to complete our walk. We continued to be harassed by flies, but at least I didn’t swallow any today. The Alpine Way appeared below us and, as we dropped lower, we could see our car at the Cascades trailhead. The track zigzagged down the tail of the ridge and brought us out to the road where it crossed the Thredbo River, right near the car park. I silently thanked four-days-ago me for leaving the car here and saving me the walk up to Dead Horse Gap.
Footnotes
- Richard’s Pipit (Anthus novaeseelandiae). ↩︎
- We first wanted to head up to Thredbo for a shower, after which the drive to Melbourne would take at least seven hours. ↩︎
- The sign was labelled Dead Horse Gap even though the track goes to the Cascades trailhead. ↩︎
