I love my backcountry trips and my traditions of getting into the Big Wild. The annual multi day walk in lutruwita/ Tasmania with some mates, the new years eve wander and camp out on Mt Stirling, the road trip to the Snowy Mountains in May. I notice sometimes that half the enjoyment comes from planning and then reflecting on the trip (especially when the actual trip ends up being Type 2 fun).

But this year has been different. After two grim winters, I’ve been obsessing over the forecasts for this season. And as we know they aren’t great. I know that we will get a break at some point, that we will continue to get good and bad winters. But as we pass through another warm autumn, it really does feel like we have crossed some invisible tipping point. As happened with bushfires in the mountains, which suddenly did a ‘step change’ in intensity in the early 2000s, you have to wonder if we have stepped over into a new world where, in Australia at least, our snow pack resembles the boom and bust cycles that have long dominated mountain snow in Tasmania, and less like the consistent snow pack we have generally relied on here on the mainland.

So I’ve found it hard to get excited about planning the winter trips this year. Being in the mountains is one of the things in my life that centres and settles me and feeds my spirit, especially in winter. I feel strangely adrift as I ponder the future. Last winter I was lucky enough to be at Mt Wills when that incredible snow storm came through in mid July, then spent a wonderful couple of days around JB Plain with a big crowd of car campers who were having an awesome time up in the resort. All winter lovers know that when its good, it’s absolute magic.

Anyone who is paying attention can see what’s going on: human driven climate change is driving these changes and stealing our snowpack. Its basic science. We (thankfully) just had a federal election where the Australian people comprehensively rejected a Coalition that was obsessed with nuclear power, extending the life of coal , and drilling like crazy for gas (Yes, there is lots of work we need to do to encourage the ALP to let go of its obsession with gas). And most people I talk with out on the slopes get it. Of course there are the tedious Angry Bros who pop up on all the snow community channels whenever the dread words Climate + Change are uttered in the same sentence. But the fact is they are a small minority and climate change denial is really just about cultural identity nowadays, with most outright deniers most likely to be conservative males.

And the ski companies and snow businesses never fail to disappoint in their failure to grapple with the oncoming train that threatens to run over their livelihood.

But, most people do get it. They just need to translate Knowing into active Doing. As always, action is the antidote to despair.

I know that the future isn’t yet written and that we all have agency and the ability to take meaningful action to reduce future climate change. As Joelle Gergis noted while thinking through the reality of climate grief, hope and action is always an option:

The longer we delay, the more irreversible climate change we will lock in. Any young person can tell you that stabilising the Earth’s climate is literally a matter of life or death. It will impact the stability of their daily lives, their decision to start families, and their chance to witness the natural wonders of the world as their parents did. The ability of current and future generations to live on a stable planet rests on the decisions the world collectively makes right now’.

The future seems like a complex place. I’ll keep seeking refuge in the mountains. I will seize those days when the powder falls and the forests go silent under the weight of fresh snow. I worry constantly about the future while I also immerse myself in the wonderful wild landscapes that exist in our backyards here in the south east of Australia.

 

If you feel up for delving more into this hard topic, have a read of this years Mountain Journal magazine, beautifully edited by Anna Langford, which asks When will we miss Winter?