“The snow now fell so thick all round, that we could see nothing whatever, and were completely puzzled which way to go, or what to do as we had arrived at the edge of a tremendous gully many miles in width.”
-Henry Hellyer, 18th November, 1828.
I woke to find that my tent had failed to keep the water out; my sleeping quilt and mat were both rather wet. There was about five inches of snow outside with the promise of more. Visibility was down to a hundred metres. I was on an exposed alpine plateau with no tracks and no maps. I had two days of food left. My resolution to descend to the Fury was ebbing away as the seriousness of the situation dawned on me.
The head of Fury Gorge. Pentax MX, Ektar 100, Nov 2022.
It was that day that I finally understood why Hellyer and his men descended into Fury Gorge. They had no alternative. When he wrote, ‘descend into the gully or perish’, he meant every single word. They had no waterproof gear, no knowledge of the country they were in, they were at the end of an arduous journey, and they were probably severely hypothermic. Hellyer didn’t make the decision to descend into the gorge. That decision was forced upon him.
As I packed up my tent in the building blizzard, I realised that it was time to get out of there, along the most direct route available to me, or I might not make it out at all. And the most direct route out was to avoid the gorge and to stay high up on the exposed ridgetops, over Mt Inglis, then across the Fury Divide to Barn Bluff before dropping down to Waterfall Valley and the relative safety of the Overland Track.
Despite the call of the abyss, Fury Gorge would have to wait for another day.
Pencil pines in the blizzard. Pentax MX, Ektar 100, Nov 2022.
Thinking back to that morning, I still have some level of regret at the decision that I made. A part of me wishes that I was determined enough to descend into Fury Gorge; despite the blizzard, despite the insufficiency of my shelter, despite my dwindling rations, despite the fact that I’d be committing to a more difficult exit route, despite knowing that I’d likely be overdue and cause the people who love me great anxiety. A small part of me wishes that I had stuck with my plan and descended down to the Fury in the blizzard, just like Hellyer and his men did.
In the end, it was my knowledge of the country that allowed me to make a decision that Hellyer simply couldn’t.
I just wished I had a bottle of brandy. Or at least that I had a pack of dogs.
Pencil pine stand, Pentax MX, Ektar 100, Nov 2022.
To be continued…