It was an early start for me. We set the alarm for 6:30. I looked out the window at the far end of the corridor to see dawn breaking through a twisted dark cloud. I braved the front door, oooh, cold. I went back inside and upgraded the equipment I’d planned to take on today’s walk.

I met everyone else at LINC in High Street, loaded up my pack and boots into the boot of Trevor’s car. I travelled with Elaine, Trevor and Julie. While the six others came in other vehicles. It’s 125 km to the point on Maggs road that is the starting point for the walk. The day simply became more beautiful, dissipating my worries about a too cold day. The weather could not have been kinder or more enchanting. The rich blue sky providing a striking clarity to landscape.

The start of the walk does not look all that auspicious, piles of forestry debris gathered into numerous piles in readiness for an autumn ignition. The track sets up through scrub, the trees and shrubs almost and in fact often do obscure the way. Trees have belligerently decided to land the length of the track. This obliterates the route and provides a slippery obstacle to clamber over. Pink, yellow, orange and white ( faded coloured plastic ribbons) hang off tree branches and stumps. The route these impromptu signposts provide should be thought of in the many not the few. As previous walkers got lost, they started tying on plastic ribbons, and so producing a bewilderingly complex labyrinth in what is already a nearly opaque track. It’s slippery, uneven and as we ascended given to sudden collapse. The track for a substantial part of the way goes over sphagnum moss. And it’s deep, my boots springing and sinking in the pale green moss, it’s like walking on a too soft mattress but the simile collapses as suddenly the right or left leg drops through into the wet never never World of sodden peat beneath. My boots were very damp by the end of the walk.

The track provides a steady climb with occasional pauses to clamber, slip, fall over, land spreadeagled on the moss, or wonder where the track might be. We began with a detour. After we crossed a creek, we missed correct turn off to the right and instead carried on straight ahead. Elaine raised the alarm. We were walking west rather than the correct south. Neville located the right track. The storms and rain have sent an enormous amount of debris, twigs, branches, tree limbs and trees, and rocks over the track. It’s not easy. This is not a walk I would ever contemplate doing alone. The other Ramblers are highly experienced bush walkers and thought flummoxed at times, soon sorted out the right direction. The path was never more than 15 cm wide.

The track enters a narrow valley with a central strip of pools, and sphagnum, of scoparia sprawled over the ground, it’s red spikes looking listless, lacking their carnivorous predilections, and Bauera, for once benignly hovering against woolybutt, snow gums and pencil pines.

We entered an arbor, of luxurious moss, soft and spongy, and shaded by healthy pencil pines. A small tarn glowed orange and red beneath the pines, even at noon, the time of the most unkind light. I took a few photographs and as quickly as that I thought, where are everybody. The twisting track, the scrub and dips, meant it was very important to keep alert. It would be too easy to get lost here. Occasionally I’d hear the others call out ‘ Bruce’ . I answered and caught up.

Lake McCoy, is beautiful. It’s most striking feature for me was it’s stillness. What an evanescent virtue? Many pencil pines and woolybutts, crowd most of the lake shore, reflections perfect in the water. Water plants hover just beneath the surface, their cream leaves dimpling the water. The western edge of the tiers is visible behind the pencil pines, it’s abrupt cliffs beneath a flat topped Mesa.

We all enjoyed our lunches in the warm sunshine, took Photos and squelched around in the streams, pools and moss. Very enjoyable. However time was getting on, so we packed up, Trevor put on his back pack, reminding us all there was still more walking to do to get back in daylight.

We walked back to the cars. The track was substantially easier to follow on the way back. It was important to ignore many of the ribbons. Neville lead the way, setting up a quick pass despite the rough, narrow, winding track, and only taking notice of the correctly placed markers. It’s a gift!

We crossed the creek, and it was only a short step back to cars parked at the coup. Lots of the mothers needed to get back to Launceston for Mother’s Day functions so it was a no nonsense descent through the scrub.

It’s been a terrific day, great company, challenging walking and navigation, warm sunshine, and a wonderful natural experience.