JoelThis story is not just about Mount Bartle Frere – Queensland’s highest peak – it is about good choices and decisions: and I am not speaking by experience haha.
Any hiker wants to conquer some of the most awesome peaks in Australia. Specifically in Queensland, Mount Bartle Frere stands as a towering beast that offers a great challenge with the prospect of a glorious reward.
Those wishing to conquer the mighty peak can opt between two trailheads – the eastern, which leaves from the Josephine Falls carpark (75 kilometres south of Cairns), and the western, at the Junction Camp on the Atherton Tablelands, 78 kilometres south-west of Cairns.
Only experienced bushwalkers and those with a high level of fitness should attempt either trail. I personally don’t fit into either of those categories haha. This hike is usually done as a full day trip with a light pack.
Introducing my lack of common sense and stubbornness.
I had a very small window of time (or so I convinced myself) to complete this hike and it had been on the radar for many months as we travelled Queensland. How could I not climb the highest peak in the state?
On a rainy and gloomy day, I dropped my campervan off at the mechanic in Cairns for some work, hired another one and then headed south toward Babinda and the Josephine Falls carpark. I’ll mention at this point that it rained heavily multiple times throughout the day. For some weird reason, I continued to tell myself that it was still a good idea. My wife was staying with friends a couple of hours away (she’s too intelligent to join me on these types of experiences).
Arriving at the carpark, I hastily prepared my hiking bag (unknowingly overpacking waaaaay too much), did some stretches and started to read the information sign at the start of the hike. A few other visitors of Josephine Falls carpark looked stunned and asked why I was carrying such a big bag for such a short walk – I had to explain it was not my plan to go to Josephine Falls.
And it’s on!
At 11:30am, I set off with a hustle in my step, and a tumultuous whirlpool of emotions agitated my stomach and mind. Was this really a good idea? Will I see others on the track? Did I pack everything I needed? Was it going to keep raining?
All of those questions would be answered – and in all the ways that I dreaded.
The first kilometre wasn’t too bad and I had done that in roughly 16 minutes. It was relatively flat and the track was easy to follow. I had a few sunbaking lizards scare me as they scurried off when I came within view but other than that, I thought this isn’t so bad!
Although, as any sensible person would know, this flat section just meant that the elevation gain would occur in a shorter and shorter distance, so this just added to the nerves.
After some more “easier” sections, I reached the 2km mark and really started to get concerned that the elevation gain would be too much to handle. As someone who has done it – you would know that the Josephine Falls Carpark is roughly 100m above sea level, and the summit is 1611m – so that’s 1500m to gain in a short distance. 7.5km each way isn’t too bad, but add in that elevation gain and it’s turns into an untamable beast of a hike.
I should point out here – this information isn’t here to scare anyone off. I do not have high fitness and wouldn’t say I am an “experienced” bushwalker. But I feel that mental strength got me through this one. So don’t be put off from doing this awesome hike – just do it in good conditions and you’re reward will be sweet as! Make it a challenge and give it a go.
At roughly the 3.2km mark, you’ll actually reach a small campsite right next to creek. I don’t know if you can book this or not, but there is enough room for a couple of tents. It is at this point the track splits:
Left to Broken Nose
Right to The Summit
So after topping up my water, I headed off towards the impending summit.
It was from this point that the hike really got tough – and for me, it was REALLY TOUGH. Carrying a 20kg pack and dealing with slippery terrain takes it to the next level. For the next two kilometres, everything I thought I knew about hiking came crashing down.
It began to rain… The leeches were pretty bad on the hike so far, but now they seemed to come out in hordes. There were times I thought they were raining from the canopy above. Leeches were all over my ankles, some made their way up to my groin, on my neck and even a few managed to get on to my lip. My mental fortitude began to waver and regrets of beginning this hike flooded in.
I knew a positive mindset would be critical for this, but there were times I wanted to turn around and get back to the car park before sunset.
Breaks and rests were becoming more frequent. It was a two-edged sword: I wanted to get up there before sunset, but I also knew I had to set a pace that I could handle and maintain the whole way up.
The section between 3.2km to 7km (the camp near the summit) was grueling. Many sections of this are more like a scramble up roots and rocks rather than a conventional hike. The pain that I felt in my legs was getting worse and worse with every step.
Even without a heavy pack, I would have found this hike difficult.
There was a positive in all of this uphill carnage: I had phone reception basically all of the way up and was able to keep my wife posted on the situation. This fact is a good one to be aware of because as the weather worsened and worsened, it was imperative that I had a way to contact someone if things really went bad.
The nearer that I got to the campsite and the peak, the more hectic the weather become. Wind was howling through the dense forest and the rain seemed to come down in droplets the size of golf balls. By this stage I had a rainjacket on and a cover for my hiking pack – essentials if you are planning a trip up Mount Bartle.
Soon the hiking and scrambling turned into a face to face encounter with large slippery boulders. The wind and rain continued to pound against my body and make it hard to see. There are certain sections during the final 600m that require some rock scrambling skills – if you plan on doing it in the rain, take your time because it becomes a real challenge.
I made my way over these initial boulders and then walked the narrow track surrounded by dense but short scrub. Not long after, the small shelter and metal helipad emerged out of the fog and rain – what a sensation! I knew that the hardest part was now done (for today at least).
By this point my phone had died (from messaging and calling my wife and using the camera and AllTrails application). So after a short celebration, I placed my bag in the shelter, put my phone on charge with my powerbank and made the final ascent to the summit. For some reason, the final 500m didn’t seem too bad – probably because I didn’t have my pack on and the adrenalin was racing more than ever. There was extra motivation to get this done quickly because darkness would soon envelop me.
After some sketchy rock scrambling and even more leeches, the top section came into a blurry view through the fog. It was a ridiculous moment – the tallest peak in the state, an absolute slog to get there and I could barely see 10m in front of me!
I had been lucky over the past year to have good weather and views in almost all of the hikes that I completed – but this one was on the complete opposite end of that. The rain smashed down and fog rushed up the sides of the peak, culminating in a epic whirlpool at the summit. Even the noise of the wind and rain was deafening. No time to celebrate and other than making it to the top, it didn’t feel like success. I told myself that this wasn’t how I would remember this place – I didn’t explore and I didn’t take any time to think about things. Mount Bartle would be conquered again – on my terms!
Quickly tuning around, the 500m descent to the shelter began. By this point it was getting quite dark. Where it was safe (which seemed like nowhere), I hurried as much as possible and then finally caught a glimpse of the helipad again – shelter for the night was close.
As I arrived to the shelter, the mad process of eliminating the final leeches began… and what a process it was. Many had embedded themselves into my socks and small groups still clung to my skin. My absolute disdain and disgust for these animals had never been stronger – I had felt as though they have stolen my dignity and honour.
The final leech came off and the final count for the day came out to 483 leeches. The thought of what had happened made me sick. My ankles wouldn’t stop bleeding, so I wrapped them in toilet paper and taped them up – that would ensure that my sleeping bag wouldn’t get covered in blood.
At this point I had cheered up a bit and started to enjoy myself in that solitary moment. Not seeing anyone on the track and having the shelter to myself, I laughed about the days’ adventures and accolades and then drank my beer. It was warm surprisingly, but it wasn’t going to take away from the moment. After cooking up some rice for dinner, I snacked on some lollies and then prepared myself for bed.
Unfortunately, I knew that my clothes, socks and shoes wouldn’t be dry in the morning – but that was tomorrow’s problem.
Sleep did not come easy.
Basically all night, rain pummeled the tin roof, and that kept me awake almost all night. At times, the sound was so deafening that it almost hurt my ears. Lying there in the pitch black, I chuckled to myself often trying to keep spirits high.
It is important to remember in those moments that the pain is very temporary. My mind wandered and I started to think about the people in my life who had, and still are, enduring pain much worse than what I was experiencing. It really wasn’t anything to complain about – and after all, I put myself in the situation. So I told myself that it was going to be a learning experience and an opportunity for growth.
Morning came and my wife sent me a message asking if I was okay. After the thumbs up and a short exchange, I started breakfast. Unfortunately I had presumed that mice would not be a problem, so a lot of my food was out right next to me. Throughout the night, I was sure that I heard an animal rustling right near me, but thought nothing of it. Once I turned on my head torch to grab my packets of oats, I realised that a mouse (or something) had chewed the bottoms of the packets and there was no way that I would eat them. Thankfully I had a couple of Cliff bars in my bag and ate those.
Now came the tough part – picking the moment to leave. The rain was unrelenting and it was time to face the inevitable. I had already spent the majority of the previous days’ hike in the rain, so surely it couldn’t get any worse. I was wrong! It rained heavier than the previous day, and the leeches pissed me off even more. Finding the balance between flicking them off and making progress was a constant battle. It seemed that on both feet, there was one place that they liked to congregate and burrow their way to my skin. Whenever I stopped, there was usually a group of 8 or so that were attached to me in the same small spot. The mental struggle was real.
It was slow going the whole way down and time and distance seemed to drag like never before. There were moments where I thought I must have been close to a kilometre marker, but then it seemed like an eternity before I’d actually reach it. Despite trying to keep a positive attitude, I was not enjoying this hike at all.
Step and step, rock after rock and root after root – I slowly descended the peak that had become my worst enemy. Images came into mind of beautiful sunsets and epic sunrises on top of Queensland’s tallest peak as if I was in denial that this whole debacle was playing out.
Finally I made it to the creek and campsite that meant there was 3.2km to go. The hardest part was over! There was still roughly 1.5 hours to go, but it would get easier and easier as the terrain slowly flattened out. It was at this creek where I decided a morale boost was in check. Sitting on a rock in the creek, I took my shoes and socks off and proceeded to pick out leeches and get everything clean again (soaking wet, but clean haha). I watched the leeches wash away one by one and I sat there in satisfaction that for this moment, I was the victor!
After getting refreshed, filling up my bottle, and seeing no leeches for a brief moment in time, the final 3.2km journey began. Time seemed to go so slowly, but at least my mental state improved slightly. Leeches still bombarded me relentlessly, but at least with every step, the car park got closer and closer. Setting small goals, I picked up the pace and prepared myself for the final kilometre.
Everything was screaming in me to stop and to slow down. Desperation stopped me from stopping and I started to recognise the landscape that was so close to the destination. The last few kilometres, my legs were jelly – I was so glad no one seen me because I knew I would have looked silly haha.
Before long, I noticed the sign through the trees that marked the start of the hike. Mount Bartle would soon become a memory of past adventures. The sensation was unreal as I emerged out of the trees, onto the grass and then onto the damp bitumen of the Josephine Falls carpark.
Upon reaching the van, I took off my shoes and socks, put them in a bucket, sprayed the remaining leeches and then prepared for the journey to some local showers.
In total: 880 leeches!
To be completely honest, I did not enjoy the hike… I don’t mind a difficult journey, but it really was a bad decision to start the hike in such bad weather. There would be other opportunities, and there will always be another time when it is sunny and not immersed in cloud. I could only imagine the awesomeness of that place in dry weather (and with a smaller pack).
Mount Bartle Frere conquered me over those two days – I cannot say that I conquered it. I was completely at the mercy of what nature is capable of. There must be a true respect for the environment and the sheer force of the effects of bad weather.
Do I recommend you to hike Mount Bartle Frere? HELL YES.
Do I recommend you to hike Mount Bartle Frere in horrible weather? HELL NO.
Do as you please, and let the experiences and adventures dictate your path. But be safe, know your limits and don’t be afraid to say no. Another opportunity will present itself, and with patience and good timing, you will be rewarded with a spectacular experience.
One day I’ll tackle Mount Bartle Frere and see the sunrise and sunset on a beautifully clear day – but I’ll wait for that day as it will be the right day for it.
Hike safe and watch out for leeches haha!
