Snowflakes dance in the air around us, buoyed on the wind, alternately lashing our faces and floating elegantly. A surreal vision from your dreams. The hanging lake fed by delicate waterfalls that trickle between the fissures and cracks of its quartzite nest. A ceiling of cloud contains natures artfully constructed snow globe. I could have stopped and watched the scene for hours. I could have, but my mind was racing with a growing sense of urgency. We’d been out in this weather, moving slowly, for far too long. We were soaked and uncomfortably cold. It was time to find another gear.
It’s day 2 of the Western Arthurs Traverse and my client and I are moving between lakes Cygnus and Oberon. It’s wet, it’s windy and temps are barely above zero. My client is not coping with the uneven terrain and after 4.5 hours of walking we’ve travelled only 3.8km. Arriving at Square Lake, I find a sheltered cave for us to sit and have a warm drink, a short respite from the trying conditions outside. With only 1km left to Lake Oberon we depart our cave for a final short climb, here our pace slows to a terminal crawl. 100m every 10 minutes. We are not moving fast enough to stay warm. It begins to snow.
Sometimes in the mountains you have the ignore people’s feelings and simply act in order to keep yourself and your people safe. I drop my pack and turn to my client. She appears warm enough, she’s not exhibiting signs of hypothermia at least, but her eyes are glistening with tears of shame and embarrassment. She’s a strong hiker on the mainland, but the Western Arthurs are another beast. “Can I please have your pack?” It’s a demand not a question. I begin to run back and forth along the trail, shuttling our packs to the saddle above Lake Oberon. I’m warm for the first time all day.
Prior to departing, I’d watched the forecast mature with a grim acceptance, I knew my client was going to have a rough time of it. After 1 day of sunshine, we were set for 5 days of continuous rain, snow and gale force winds. It was probably the worst possible weather to begin a traverse of the Western Arthurs. Staying warm would be our biggest challenge and we had to ensure that we were suitably prepared for the conditions.
We arrived at Lake Oberon and set up camp during a merciful gap in the weather. As it turns out my client readily admitted that she was struggling and ready to turn around. My pre-trip plan for managing people in that weather didn’t have us going past lake Oberon anyway, but her decision to accept her limitations demonstrated the kind of humility that is required in the mountains. She made the right call, and we simply turned around the next day to make our way safely off the range.
I’ve been guiding down in Tassie for 4 years now and even during that short time I’ve witnessed a surge of adventurers coming down here to get after it. I love that, it’s what I’m about as a guide, seeing people overcome challenges in the wilderness inspires me. But this surge has brought with it a significant increase in rescues, year on year the numbers continue to rise. So I’ve made it something of a personal mission to raise awareness around preparedness; encouraging the hiking community at large to be more proactive about gaining skills & knowledge before setting out on an adventure.
This season, I’ve been speaking about a three pillared approach to heading out into the wilderness:
Take the right gear
Be prepared
Make good decisions
Take the right gear
When choosing gear, the key consideration is “fit for purpose.” For example, if I’d been hiking the three capes track in some wet, windy weather, I’m sure I could get away with a light raincoat. But out in the Western Arthurs you’ve got rocks and branches pulling at you, snow, sideways rain and gale force winds. The consequences of a jacket that is not durable or effective at keeping out the elements are potentially severe. On this trip I took the Mountain Pro: While being smashed by full-on mountain weather, the security provided by a high-quality jacket that’s made for this kind of thing was invaluable. This theory applies to selecting your shelter, sleep system, footwear and anything that you need to rely on in the wilderness.
Be prepared
Do your research ahead of your trip, check the weather, know your route. As a minimum, it’s important to know the answers to the following questions: How far is it? How long will it take? What kinds of difficulties will you encounter? This way you can strategise accordingly, so you know if you have enough food and water, the right shoes, whether you’ll be able to make it back before dark, etc. Preparation also includes ensuring that you have the skills you need for the bigger and more complex adventures, a great way to gain those skills is to do things that are progressively harder over time. Jumping straight into the most gnarly thing you can think of is a great way to look like a fool on the news.
Make good decisions
The mountain isn’t going anywhere, you can always come back. Going into the wilderness to challenge yourself is a beautiful thing but it should be done with humility and an open mind. Exercising good judgement about whether to modify or change your plan is the mark of a skilled outdoors-person. Unfortunately, we often find that line through lessons learned the hard way, so as you build experience a conservative decision is a good decision.
At the end of the day none of us are tougher than nature, while having good gear is a great place to start it’s not the whole picture. Gaining skill and experience is half of the fun of being outside; it’s not about being able to say that you’ve done a walk. Accomplishing that walk safely using your skill and judgement will give you a far deeper level of satisfaction. Because on top of the big skills like first aid and navigation there are 100 micro skills that all add up to efficient and safe travel in the wilderness. It’s up to each of us hone those skills as we progress into more challenging and complex environments.
Mat
Thanks for your article. Your three tips are very timely, as more people venture into the wilds with inadequate experience.
In the light of these tips, I am curious about your decision to start out on the walk, given the forecast. I have walked extensively in Western Tasmania and elsewhere, and I am confident I would have cancelled or delayed. I wonder how the client-guide relationship played into these calculations.
In this regard, your article also surprised me because I had never heard of a guide being engaged by a single client in Australia for a trip. I am aware that has been common practice overseas for a long time, but I wonder if this is now part of a broader trend towards increased commercial use of wilderness in Australia.
When I started bushwalking in the 1970s, most people were mentored into the necessary skills through clubs, and commercial trips were almost unknown. Since then, there has been a relative decline in the role of clubs, as young people are independently drawn into the bush by internet posts.
There has also been a significant increase in commercially guided walks. There are certainly positive arguments for well-guided walks, potentially ensuring less-experienced walkers safely complete their trips, and in an environmentally-responsible manner.
I am confident, however, that commercial trips have also increased the total numbers going into the bush. This is not an argument to privilege independent walkers, but increased pressure on our bush inevitably leads to environmental degradation, which in turn obliges governments to site-harden, reducing the naturalness of the bush. Across Australia, we are also seeing increased infrastructure in the wilds, such as cabins, as companies successfully demand often exclusive rights for use of parts of national parks.
It is clear that the manner of bushwalking is changing in Australia, as are the natural areas we access for the activity we love.
nice story and good advice, and love what you do, and make! But the segue is weak as the narrative is about the client’s inability, not being let down by inadequate gear, thanks, Brian
Such good information and advice unfortunately not enough hikers take it onboard
Comments will be approved before showing up.
Summer in Tasmania’s mountains presents the walker with a multitude of flowers, ranging from the prickly Richea Scoparia to the diminutive flowers of the remarkable Tasmanian Cushion Plant.
The pines were extensively studied some time ago and the conclusion was that they are up to 1,600 years old and quite possibly far older as the original pines may be long gone and the descendants may even date back to the Last Glacial Maximum about 20,000 years ago.
Nestled below the huge cliffs of Eliza Bluff, over 700 metres above, lies a beautiful body of water in South West Tasmania called Lake Judd.
Mat Young
February 16, 2026
Jonathan, thanks for engaging with the piece, I appreciate your thoughts. If I were reading this and someone else had written it, I’d be asking the same questions.
Regarding the decision to be out there knowing the weather would be adverse. Ultimately I deemed it safe enough to go out and experience the Arthur’s knowing that we would almost certainly turn around barring an exceptional turn of the weather. This is one of the many complexities of offering guided experiences in dynamic places, sometimes you have to do what you can with the weather and conditions you get.
Regarding the increase in commercialisation, I agree, wholeheartedly. It’s a slippery slope and access needs to be managed with that in mind. My business partner and I are both veterans and alpine climbers with tons of experience in the Tassie bush. We have significant risk mitigations and in place and a license from parks to operate. Frankly, we believe there are few operators out there more qualified or deserving of the privilege.
As a wilderness guide in Tassie I am privileged to earn a living in a place that I revere. Protecting these unique and sensitive ecosystems is a responsibility that I take very seriously.