Three weeks down
A last weekend at B–CSC and a trip to Mt Bogong seemed almost to be a requirement. While it’s hard to make out the actual mountain from the village due to the peaks in between, its presence is a felt one in the region. I packed my gear and, with Madelynne’s well wishes, headed off to the Staircase Spur. The trip would have to be a bit heavier than normal, with a few extra kilos of gear for shooting the Pollux Outcropping and the doubly reflected light of the day-old Supermoon.
While waiting for the clouds to pass at the outcropping, I was again reminded of the need for flexibility in planning (refer back to things I’ve learned from the river). My quick lunch on the ledge turned into a long lunch due to the overcast conditions, and to bury the time into the past I fiddled with tripods and dusted lenses. After an hour and a bit I moved on to Big Fellah’s summit and then past it to Cleve Cole Hut, where I pitched, threw down dinner and set my alarms to correspond with the moon’s zenith.
That night, I awoke in the dark of night inside a tent inside a drizzling cloud. The velvet foggy blackness was powerful and humbling, but—as with the outcropping—was not particularly photogenic. Two other alarm bells that night ended in a similar slippery haze. Mockingly the rains slithered into the valleys with the sunrise.
But with coffee comes a renewed perspective. And so—on my second to last morning at B–CSC—I changed tack from moonlight to sunlight: chasing the glimmering iridescent crystals of dew as they slid off and evaporated from the tall matted grasses in front of the hut.
Now I sit, a week later, looking forward to the arrival of some new hard drives (refer back to my previous post re: failing and filling technology) which will finally let me have a closer look at the successes and failures of a slower time on the top of Victoria.