Originally written in 2023
“You can take the girl away from the mountain, but you can’t take the mountains out of the girl’s heart.”
Unfortunately, I didn’t make it to the roof of Australia.
Under normal conditions, Mt Kosciuszko could have been a fairly straightforward 12km return walk from Eagle’s Nest, accessible by chairlift. But there was a severe weather warning and the chairlift wasn’t operating.
Because I was determined to tick Mt Kosciuszko off my bucket list, I spent almost the whole previous day making calls, asking questions and talking to locals and workers about possible ways of getting to the summit.
Some said it was impossible because the route above Eagle’s Nest is very exposed to the elements.
Others were a little more encouraging.
Naturally, I listened to the encouraging ones. 
So early the next morning, I set off from Thredbo and hiked the 4km Merritts Nature Track to Eagle’s Nest, intending to continue to the summit.
The climb itself was fine.
Then I reached Eagle’s Nest.
The wind was strong, biting and howling. I took shelter outside the restaurant, hoping it would eventually settle. After about 30 minutes I was already freezing, so I walked back down for a while just to warm myself up — and ended up playing in the snow instead. 
Luckily, I bumped into a couple who also wanted to attempt the summit walk, so I tagged along. The more the better.
When we reached Eagle’s Nest again, the wind had become even worse, but we decided to try anyway.
A section that apparently should have taken about 30 minutes took us one hour and 45 minutes because we were walking directly into the wind and through snow.
For possibly the first time in my life, I wished I were heavier.
After about 45 minutes, Jill decided it was too much and turned around. Mark and I continued until we reached the lookout.
By then, we could barely stand.
I had to cling to the railing so I wouldn’t be blown over, and Mark had to sit down just to take my photo.
That was enough.
We were freezing, rain clouds were forming, and continuing higher no longer seemed like determination. It seemed foolish.
I don’t mind getting soaked while hiking in a tropical rainforest.
Getting soaked high in the Australian Alps while already freezing is another matter entirely.
So we turned back.
No Mt Kosciuszko summit that day.
But there’s always a next time.
And besides, somewhere between being nearly blown off the mountain and playing in the snow, Thredbo became one of my happy places.
Stories Along the Way 