One Grand Winter
It seems the walls of this chasm are perspiring. Snow and ice are releasing off the rock in a never-ending cascade, flowing freely down a seemingly endlessly vertical shaft that disappears from view over what is most likely a cliff. Far below, the couloir fans out into an impenetrable jungle thick with vines and incessant scrub; each tree is a speck beneath our ski tips. The snow is frozen solid. Vertical cliffs entomb us, festooned with ice—crystalline stalactites, standing still in this world for only a fleeting moment. If this isn’t a proper mountain, I don’t know what is.
Ben and I are deep in Tasmania’s southwest wilderness, standing atop what, in the words of Sir Edmund Hillary, is “Australia’s only real mountain”—Federation Peak. We are about to ski a line that is arguably the pinnacle of ski mountaineering in Australia, a line that has been years of research and theorising in the making.
Above, the sky is as blue as the waters of a Pacific atoll, and—after a week of snowfalls—the last clouds gather only around the high hills. Ahead of me I can see all the way along the Western Arthurs. Conditions are absurdly pristine. As good as they get.
But the last time I placed a turn on snow was just on half a year ago, when I made a timely visit to Japan right before the world was transformed by COVID-19. And now I have to ride the gnarliest line of my life without a mistake. A single error will send me on an elevator ride to the bottom some half kilometre below, with only a few jagged rocks to cushion the descent. On each foot, bright blue skis stare up at me with cheery optimism. Brand new ultralight touring skis. Never ridden. Short, narrow, twitchy. Not the most forgiving tools, considering I’m locked in the grips of a steep icy couloir, two days of heinous walking from the nearest help. Nerves and hesitation wash up from below.
For the best part of half a decade, Ben Armstrong and I have made a habit of exploring the backcountry ski potential of Tasmania. Many consider us mad, especially those who have spent any time in the Tassie bush. Others look at us with surprise; unbeknown to them, Tassie has significant
