NSW Nordic Ski Club
Derschkos Delight 4-7 August 1995
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Mid winter, last year, I stood on Grey Mare Bogong hurriedly re-attaching a binding to a ski before the cloud descended on us. To take my mind off the fact that I had skinned my knuckles I gazed northward across Tooma River at the magnificent view. There and then determination struck me, I resolved to lead a trip into the legendary Town of Ross. So unlike Richard II, and in my case for want of a screw, a trip was born and what a trip it turned out to be!
We drove in via the Gungarlin River valley over Nimmo Hill and, due to the deep snow this year, were able to commence skiing from the Bulls Peaks Creek. Being able to ski across these plains was a very pleasant novelty as previously I had always had to walk and thus I revelled in the vistas presented unto us. The ski up onto Cesjacks Ridge was sticky in places so yet again out came the wax. However, the higher altitude brought firmer snow which saw us speed across the Great Dividing Range (rather insignificant at this point). Then into the Doubtfull we dropped and this nearly happened to one of the party when a snow bridge collapsed before her ski tips! (She must have been thinking evil thoughts as five others had safely crossed before her.)
A copse of snow gums on a terrace above the creek provided a great place to camp the night under a sky filled with stars and a full moon. After shaking the tents to remove the frost rime we donned our packs next day to ski up the broad valley to Jagungal Saddle and our first unimpeded view of the Monarch of the snows herself. Jagungal, clothed in white, is a wondrous sight and drew us irresistibly onwards. Across the headwaters of the Geehi River we skirted to get to the base of the mountain where we dropped our packs for the ascent. The day was clear and sunny and the prospects of fantastic views from the top lured us upwards but then, in an instant my hopes were dashed! For one of the party casually remarked that this would be his first ascent of Jagungal, I cringed and shrunk into myself. For you see the Big Bogong is a shy mistress, she reveals not her charms on first acquaintance. No, she must be wooed and seduced with concerted application of effort over an extended period. It was thus with an overwhelming sense of dread foreboding that I trudged upwards. True to her form she played with us, there the summit gleamed clear and bright. Then, just as we reached the final cone, she summoned up her friend Oros to clothe her all in white. Thus we attained the summit to be denied the vistas that had been there a scarce 10 mins before!
The ski down, and the accompanying views, provided some compensation for the disappointment previously visited upon us. Lunch was held at the base of the peak, and yes, it was clear again! Thereafter we skied down the valley forming the headwaters of the Tooma River to emerge, after some interesting tree skiing, onto Tooma Plain. This we strode across to reach Derschkos Hut, so named after an SMA engineer. The hut used to be a friendly Mountain Safety Orange but now has been repainted in NPWS Light Tan (ah the cost of ecological political correctness!). That night some of us slept in the hut (or was that sweated?) and some slept in the very fine igloo that a storm bound, and obviously bored, previous party had constructed.
Next day we gave our packs a rest day and left them to their own devices as we skied off on an extended day trip. First port of call was the Town of Ross. This is a five square kilometre series of knolls and vales which obviously reminded some lonesome Scottish miner of home. In the newly fallen snow the setting was exquisite, we gracefully glided 'twixt and 'tween the knolls, enraptured by the beauty enfolding us. Finally I stood looking south towards Grey Mare Bogong and thought how fortunate I had been to have a screw loose.
Our route then took us down through the trees to the valleys leading to Pugilistic Creek. This we passed to find an obscure fire trail which in turn led to the valley of Hell Hole Creek. Fortunately the terrain did not live up to these aggressive names and instead provided a series of delightful vales which unfolded as we proceeded. A steep but short climb brought us up onto the Toolong Range and a series of long flat high valleys. These we followed back to Derschkos for a well earned rest (and yes the packs looked quite refreshed after their day off).
Having a fair distance to travel we set off early next day. After skiing across the Tooma Plain we climbed up a new ridge to the Strumbo Range. This was a great ridge as the trees were dripping with new snow which sparkled at every turn in the gentle sunlight. Having attained the tops extended views accompanied us to north and south as we skied across the plateau (yes, Jagungal was completely clear). We bid farewell to the views at McAlister Saddle before skiing down into the Doubtfull and, yes I took one last look at the Lady before double poling after the party.
Lunch at Cesjacks preceded a great ski down Cesjacks Ridge. This was one of those quintessential Cross Country skiing descents, the occasional double pole, beautiful scenery gliding past and kilometres disappearing beneath our skis for minimal effort! Our tracks from the inwards journey aided our efforts and all to soon we found ourselves on the last slope skiing down to the Bulls Peak Creek bridge. Thus ended four days of near perfect skiing in the realm of the Monarch of the Mountains. (And people ask what draws me back, what keeps me faithfully unto her?)
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