Climbing Kosciuszko while unfit: A fat bloke climbs Australia’s highest mountain

Mount Kosciuszko may be Australia’s tallest peak, but even the unfit can reach its summit with a chairlift, gentle trails and stunning alpine scenery.

The fine line between unprepared and reckless

There’s a fine line between being merely unprepared and being incredibly stupid. That line is arguably crossed when you get up at 6am to climb the highest mountain in Australia with only the sketchiest idea of what that might entail.

Mercifully, Mount Kosciuszko is not quite in the Everest league, and frankly, it’s nowhere near the Elbrus or Kilimanjaro league either.

A common thread amongst those who haven’t climbed it is that few know just how hard getting to the top really is. Can you drive up then amble along a boardwalk, or does it take a proper multi-day, thigh-burning hike?

More importantly, is this something that someone who has done little exercise can tackle without having to call for emergency rescue?

Using the chairlift to make it manageable

Kosciuszko has the not inconsiderable advantage of being right next to a major ski resort, and before arriving in Thredbo, I’d heard vague rumours of a chairlift that goes most of the way up.

The excellent news is that this Kosciuszko Express chairlift does exist. Unfortunately, it doesn’t start running until 9am, so setting an early alarm probably crosses over the unprepared versus incredibly stupid line.

Still, a true adventure always starts with slowly eating a bacon roll from the bakery, right?

Packing mistakes and alpine conditions

Shortly after 9am, the second major error becomes clear. The packing had been semi-diligent – sunscreen, big bottles of water and a couple of salad rolls. The jacket I’d thoughtfully laid out on the bed ready to go, however, is still on said bed. Mountains have a way of being cold and windy.

A helpful sign at the top of the chairlift tells what’s in store: 12 degrees Celsius at the top, with a wind speed of 50 to 60km, making it feel like nine degrees. The only feasible solution is to march like a madman in the hope that vigorous movement gets the blood pumping.

The walk to the summit

That march is 6.5km each way, and the bulk of the elevation has already been covered. The top chairlift station is at 1,925m, while Kosciuszko tops out at 2,228m. That indicates that, unless there are cruel glacial crevasses, it’s not exactly going to be a lung-buster.

What starts with a paved path suddenly changes to metal walkways, an unusual solution to an erosion problem caused by walkers’ boots wearing away rocks, soils and vegetation.

The scenery is suitably alpine. The grasses grow high, unencumbered by grazing animals, and the landscape is dotted with chunky granite outcrops. Streams trickle down to feed the Thredbo River, their waters yelpingly cold for anyone who dares to dip a hand in.

Glaciers and alpine lakes

Surprisingly, in early February, there are still tiny glaciers visible. They’re the last hold-outs, continuing to feed the glacial lakes, including Lake Cootapatamba, Australia’s highest lake. It looks pretty, but not much is hardy enough to live in it – there are no fish, just a few crustaceans.

Kosciuszko is not the most dazzling of mountains. It’s little more than a polite bulge, barely distinguishable from the Ram’s Head Range and Etheridge Range. The best views come once on the other side of the lull in the ridge, just before the gently spiralling path leads to the summit.

Writer David Whitley on top of Mt Kosciuszko, New South Wales.
Writer David Whitley on top of Mt Kosciuszko, New South Wales.

Alpine views and history

On the other side, the Snowy Mountains look pristine, with no obvious sign of human intervention. It’s a wilderness that would have met the eyes of Paul Strzelecki, Kosciuszko’s first documented climber in 1840.

Strzelecki wouldn’t have had the chairlift or metal walkways, but even then the challenge wouldn’t have seemed too daunting. Nowadays, the ascent is not one that will provoke much heavy breathing in the most out-of-shape climbers.

On a curry scale, it’s a korma; on a booze scale, a light beer; on a chilli scale, sweet chilli sauce. It’s still a mountain ascent, but very much baby steps.

The main test is your ability to put one foot in front of the other, carthorse-style, for 13km – and to remember to pack a jacket rather than shiver for four to six hours.

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