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Mount Kosciuszko: the Top of Australia
Early morning in Jindabyne, the first faint light of a beautiful day appearing on the distant horizon. I step outside and it is cold, the car windows caked with a thick coating of frost. I hadn't expected this in Australia, so naturally I don't have an ice scaper. I fold up a postcard I had bought in Sydney and use it to slowly scrape away the ice, the car's engine warming up and the heater cranked to full blast.
Finally ready to go, I head out of town, around the shores of Lake Jindabyne and up the road to Charlotte Pass. By now the sun is coming up and I drive slowly, carefully watching for animals that are most active at this time of day. It is here that I spot my first wallaby, a shorter, darker, furrier cousin of the kangaroo. He hops off into the gum forest as my car approaches, and I breathe a sigh of relief that he didn't hop in front of me. I reach the end of the road at Charlotte Pass and park at the trailhead. The top of Kozzie is still a nine-kilometre hike ahead of me.
The hike up to Kozzie is easy, but cold. I've rugged up with multiple layers of shirts, sweater, and coat, plus ski cap and gloves, but I still have to battle a fierce wind. After about five kilometres, I reach the Snowy River, made famous by Andrew Barton (Banjo) Paterson's epic poem The Man From Snowy River. Paterson, who also wrote the unofficial Australian national anthem Waltzing Matilda, was a 19th Century poet and songwriter known for bringing the legends of the Outback into the cultural heritage of Australia.
Upon reaching the last kilometre before the top, I found myself completely surrounded by snow and ice. The trail is covered in packed snow and all the peaks spreading out before me are blinding white - a stark contrast to the deep blue of the sky. I reach the top and sit up on the stone monument that marks the top of the continent.
The view below is amazing, as if I could see all of Australia. Distant haze in the east rises above the Pacific Ocean, while directly below me the green valleys of Victoria are shrouded in wisps of fog. The wind is fiercer than ever, and I have to step down from the monument, lest I find myself blown off the mountain.
I spent about a half an hour at the top of the mountain, taking in the views from all sides. On the way down I started to see the first other people making their way up and we stopped to exchange stories about the trail and the beauty of the mountains. Back at Snowy River I came upon a group of about 50 schoolchildren from Sydney, who had never experienced such cold before and didn't want to go any further.
When I got back to the car it was late afternoon and I only had a few more hours of light left in the day. I drove back to Jindabyne, then over the Alpine Way to Khancoban, then down into the fertile green valleys of Victoria. I spent the night in a motel in Wodonga, a small city along the Murray River, which forms the border between New South Wales and Victoria.
Next up: Melbourne and the Great Ocean Road.
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