Rufus, Hugel, Cheyne Range, Gell, Hippogriff & Chimera. October 2025

Full gear list for this trip can be seen here.

For this trip, I'd originally planned to go into the Frenchman's Cap Group, but time was limited, so I had to turn to one of my backup plans that I've been thinking of for quite a while. Like I always say, it's great to have some backup plans for walks already prepared so you can swivel and do an alternative when you need to.

This one had been on the radar for a while. A proper multi-day link-up through some of Tasmania's more remote peaks; Mt Rufus, Mt Hugel, the Cheyne Range, Mt Gell, the Hippogriff, and the Chimera. Six summits across four days, with a couple of Franklin River crossings thrown in for good measure. The kind of trip that looks straightforward enough on a map but reveals its true character once you're waist-deep in scrub with the sleet coming in sideways.

Crawf and Woolza were in from the start. We'd done plenty of these sorts of trips together and this was right up our alley. Remote, physically demanding, and ticking off a few Abels we'd been eyeing for years. Crawf would meet me at the end of day 1. I had a peak I wanted to do so I was heading in earlier, with Crawf coming in via a shorter route after work that evening. Woolza would join us on day two after driving up from Hobart.

The logistics were relatively simple. I would drop a car at Rufus Canal Road (end of our loop), ride a bike back to the start of my walk, and four days later we would all arrive back my car. Simple on paper. The terrain between those two points, though, that was a different story.

Distance: 13.89km | Time: 5hrs 18min | Ascent: 863m | Conditions: Drizzle, snow higher up, very windy on the summit

I started at midday after dropping the car at the end of Rufus Canal Road and riding my bike about two and a half kilometres back to the start of the Gingerbread Track walk. Not the most glamorous shuttle, but it did the job.

It was drizzly from the get-go, but I'd brought an umbrella on this trip, a decision I was already feeling good about. It's surprisingly pleasant to walk with an umbrella rather than suffocating in a raincoat, and I made good progress through the first few kilometres.

After about an hour I arrived at Joe Slatter Hut. Stopped for a bit of lunch and had a look around inside. It's a great little hut, well maintained over the years. Then as I left, the drizzle returned, so the umbrella came out again as I continued on up towards Gingerbread Hut.

On the way I got some nice views across to where we'd be walking over the coming days. The Chimera and the Hippogriff visible in the distance, the valley stretching out below. It became increasingly cloudy and misty as I climbed into more open alpine country. It was lovely walking though and I was really enjoying this section.

About five minutes before reaching Gingerbread Hut I could see some big snow drifts ahead, and it started to snow quite heavily. Raincoat on, I arrived at the hut after about two hours of walking, had a snack, had a look around inside, then pressed on.

From the hut I followed some large snow pole markers. Down first, then up again and immediately hit deep snow. Knee-deep for most of the climb towards the summit, with sections of waist-deep snow through scrubby bands that I tried to skirt but couldn't always avoid. Pretty tough going.

As I neared the top I realised there were actually two routes up: the one I'd been following on my pre planned route in my watch, and a more direct ridge line track from the hut that probably would have had less snow. Too late now. I arrived at the summit of Mt Rufus in extremely strong wind, stopped for the obligatory photo, and then quickly headed north towards Rufus Saddle.

The first ten minutes off the summit were brutal. The wind was absurd and I was blown off my feet at one point. But it eased as I dropped lower, and what followed was some of the most delightful walking I've done in Tasmania. Well-maintained track, boardwalk sections, and just beautiful terrain stretching out ahead. Absolutely wonderful.

About halfway down to the saddle I came across a little wombat in the distance and said hello. He wasn't particularly interested in me. So I took a photo and kept walking.

Past the saddle and into the forest, the quality of the walking continued. A lovely track through nice bush for the next couple of kilometres. Eventually the track became less maintained, with more roots and a lot of water underfoot. I came to an open valley area where water was flowing along the track, ankle-deep in places and deeper in others. Through some more forest, and then I arrived at Shadow Lake.

I followed the lake around, found a campsite, and set up camp at about 5pm, five hours after starting. A lovely day's walking despite the wet and windy conditions. I pitched my new Hyperlite UltaMid 4 and settled in.

Crawf arrived about two hours later. We had a good dinner, listened to the rain and wind, and had a pretty early night. I wanted to be well rested, the next few days were going to be tough.

Distance: 11.00km | Time: 7hrs 1min | Ascent: 712m | Conditions: Drizzle with clear patches, bone-chilling wind on the plateau

We were able to sleep in today. Woolza was walking in to meet us after driving up from Hobart, and an early InReach message told us he'd arrive with us by around 11am. So we snoozed about and read while we waited. It was cool and I was looking forward to getting moving.

At around 10:30 our two-way radio came to life and Woolza let us know he was close. He arrived about ten minutes later and we celebrated the rendezvous while Crawf and I made final preparations to depart. By 11am we were on our way.

We walked around Shadow Lake and on to Forgotten Lake before starting the ascent up Little Hugel. The rainforest gave way to dolerite boulders and we climbed quickly, arriving at the summit by around 12:25pm. The weather was drizzly with clear patches, rain jackets on and off as we started to make our way across the Hugel plateau towards a large tarn where we planned to refill water.

We arrived at the tarn by 1:15pm, topped up with enough water to last the rest of the day, then climbed a small rise to see the main peak of Mt Hugel in the distance.

We'd been undecided about whether to actually climb it today. The original plan was to push as far as we could towards the Cheyne Range today, the main objective for the trip, along with Mt Gell. But when Woolza said he was keen, despite having walked further than us already today. So we all agreed. We were going up.

We found a good spot for lunch first. There was a bone-chilling wind across the plateau, but we discovered a big depression filled with snow and dropped down into it for shelter. Out came the chairs, and we sat there eating at 1:45pm, surprisingly pleasant out of the wind.

After a quick lunch we packed daypacks, moved a couple of hundred metres along the plateau to where we'd descend later, and dropped our big packs. Then, as the mist rolled in, we headed for the summit.

The walk along the plateau was lovely. After a few minutes we were climbing the peak itself, making quick progress until we hit some deep snow drifts that required careful navigation. Despite this, we were on the summit forty-five minutes after leaving our packs. A few minutes to soak it in, then we headed back taking about the same time in return.

Now keen to get off the plateau and find camp, we shouldered the big packs and descended into a scrubby mess of forest. We dropped quickly, and soon Lake Hermione came into view below. We'd originally planned to walk beyond the lake today, but the Hugel detour had eaten into our afternoon. It would be an earlier camp than planned, but we were happy with the decision.

An hour and twenty minutes after starting the descent we arrived in the valley floor and the first Franklin River crossing. Given recent weather, the river was flowing well and in the planning of this trip the river level had weighed on my mind. If it was flowing like this here, what would it be like in a couple of days when we had to cross it again further downstream? I put it to the back of my mind.

After about thirty minutes of scouting we found a crossing and made it to the southern edge of the lake. But there wasn't much in the way of camping, so we crossed the river again in a different spot near it’s outlet from the lake, followed the eastern side of the lake around to its northern end, and then had to cross the river a third time at its inlet to the lake. Three Franklin River crossings in the space of an hour. We finally found a suitable (be it exposed) campsite not far from the northern end of the lake.

We were set up by around 6pm. It wasn't long before we were all comfortable in the UltaMid, enjoying a surprise cocktail that Woolza had carried in for us. A lovely touch after a solid day.

Distance: 17.27km | Time: 10hrs 20min | Ascent: 1,001m | Conditions: Snow overnight, sleet and mist all day, deep snow on ridgelines

After a fantastic night's sleep I woke to cold conditions. I didn't realise it at first, but when I tapped the tent wall and snow slid off, it became clear what had happened overnight. Opening the tent door confirmed it: the entire landscape had received a decent dusting of snow.

This filled me with a bit of trepidation. We'd finished short of our planned camp the day before, which meant today was going to be longer than originally intended. We had roughly seven kilometres to the Cheyne Range summit, another six to Mt Gell, and then four more to where we planned to camp. A very big day, through some notoriously difficult terrain.

After breakfast and hot drinks we were away by 8am with sleet falling.

The first kilometre or so involved rounding some small hills through forest and scrubby sections before the terrain opened up. We found ourselves navigating between clumps of forest and open ground, passing little tarns along the way. Quite nice walking despite the conditions. The snow remained on the ground and the sleet came and went, with the occasional burst of proper snow as we slowly gained elevation towards the Cheyne Range.

After a couple of hours it started to drag. It took us around three hours to cover the seven kilometres to the Cheyne Range summit. When we arrived it was misty and pretty miserable. We couldn't see a thing. Disappointing but not unexpected for October.

We decided to have an early lunch here before tackling what we knew would be the hardest section of the trip. Full layers on, trying to stay warm while eating in the mist.

After lunch we headed into the mist, south along a rocky ridge and then started making our way towards Mt Gell. Initially the going was decent and we made relatively good progress. But it wasn't long before we hit the expected scrub, and it was worse than I'd anticipated. Extremely thick bands of low-lying myrtle and every other variety of Tasmanian scrub. Our pace slowed dramatically. The terrain was exhausting, and the mist, rain, and sleet weren't helping morale.

We knew we'd eventually reach a small saddle with a tarn in it. We arrived there about an hour and twenty minutes after leaving lunch. Looking at the map on my phone and watch, I could see we still had a long way to go. I knew today was going to be a massive mental battle. But we all remained calm, stayed positive, and kept moving as we began the ascent towards Gell from the saddle.

Later on I realised that it was somewhere around here that I lost my red Helinox umbrella out of the back of my pack. If you ever happen to be walking through this section and find it, I'd be appreciative.

After the initial scrubby climb things opened up. We wandered through waist-high but sparser scrub before eventually arriving at rockier ground. Around two to two and a half hours after lunch we reached a large boulder-strewn ridgeline covered in decent snow. I thought about putting on the snow spikes I'd brought but decided against it. We made our way up through the boulders very carefully in the mist.

This whole section was challenging. Snow and ice throughout, a few undulations, some deep drifts. We pressed on, stopping for the occasional snack.

Around four hours after lunch and seven and a half hours after leaving camp, we dropped our packs for the final push to the summit of Mt Gell. It wasn't far, and it was fantastic to be there. No views on offer, but we didn't care. We patted each other on the back, then returned to our packs a couple of minutes away.

Now we just needed to get down to Australia Tarn, our camp for the night. We knew there wouldn't be any other camping options in the snowy conditions, and we had a big descent ahead: from about 1,400 metres at the summit down to 900 at the lake.

We headed off following the route we'd pre-loaded on our watches. Good progress at first through very deep snow drifts, some waist to chest deep. I made sure that I kept consuming snacks every forty-five minutes or so to keep the energy up.

About forty minutes into the descent we arrived at a gully we'd read about in trip notes. We were surprised at how steep the drop-off was. We tracked along the top edge, found a suitable spot to descend in the deep snow. We were able to slide down a bit, which was fun and sped things up. Past the gully the route was hard to follow in places, but once we were off the main ridge line and into the forest things became easier. We descended steeply through increasingly dense bush.

Around two hours and twenty minutes after leaving the summit we arrived level with Australia Tarn. We knew the campsites were at the north eastern end, so we trudged along all pretty exhausted by now. Another half hour and we finally found a good spot near the outlet creek.

Yet another massive day in the books. High fives all round. We set up camp, cooked dinner, had hot drinks and soup. I checked the weather on my InReach. It looked good. Tomorrow, being the final day, wasn't going to be a cruisy walk-out. There was still a fair distance to cover, another Franklin River crossing to deal with, and the Hippogriff and Chimera to bag along the way. After dinner we weren’t awake long and were all in bed by about 8:30pm absolutely spent.

Distance: 13.00km | Time: 8hrs 57min | Ascent: 722m | Conditions: Cool, clearing later, valley scrub

We were packed up and on our way by around 8am. The Hippogriff stood in the distance, visible from camp, and we made good progress towards it. Within an hour of leaving we were on the summit.

It was nice to be here. We had views all around: back towards the direction we'd started from days ago, and across the terrain we'd fought our way through yesterday. We couldn't quite see the summit of Mt Gell, but we could appreciate just how much ground we'd covered through some very tough country.

After a snack we started our descent through an area that had been affected by bushfires a few years prior. You could still see the scarred remains of trees and button grass, with some regrowth coming through. About fifty minutes later, after some pretty scrubby and steep forest, we arrived at an open area of button grass plains in the saddle between the Hippogriff and the Chimera.

In the original plan we'd discussed carrying our packs over the Chimera and descending directly off it (in hindsight we probably should have). But we'd now decided to dump our packs in this nice open plain and do the Chimera as a daypack side trip, returning here for lunch.

We dropped the big packs, shouldered daypacks, and headed towards the Chimera through open forest. It was fairly scrubby in sections, and after about half an hour we could see the peak in the distance. It still looked a fair way off. Not much fun either — pretty much covered in trees, and it didn't look like it would offer much in the way of views.

We trudged on, arriving at the summit after about an hour and a half. This was a lot slower than expected ,we'd figured it might be an hour from the packs. The extra thirty minutes didn't fill us with joy, but we had a snack on top and then headed back. The return was only marginally quicker, maybe ten minutes, and we were back at our packs by around 12:30 and were starting to worry about the time.

We ate the last of our lunch supplies and knew we needed to get moving. By 12:45 we were walking again, following the valley east before descending through nice rainforest into the valley below. The open forest continued and we were really happy with our progress, descending about 320 metres through surprisingly pleasant bush.

Then it changed.

The valley floor hit us with some of the thickest scrub we've encountered…. and we’ve seen a lot of scrub over the years. We kept telling each other we'd just push through this band and come out into a nice open valley — because for some reason we'd assumed this would be button grass country like many similar valleys in the area. We were very wrong.

After bashing through wall after wall of scrub, we arrived in one small clearing of button grass, the first open ground since lunch. We looked around at the walls of scrub surrounding us and looked at each other. What on earth had we got ourselves into? We knew we'd be finishing today, but right now it felt like an impossibility given the density of the scrub and the distance still showing on the map.

The realisation hit us that this whole valley was probably the same. There was no easy ride out. Our immediate objective was to reach the Franklin River and cross it, hoping things would improve on the other side.

We ploughed on using our pre-loaded routes, along with some additional routes we'd received from friends and satellite imagery I had stored on my phone. With the imagery we could navigate between small open areas that lacked the scrub surrounding them. The strategy worked well, and after about an hour and a half on the valley floor we finally arrived at a steep descent and the sound of the Franklin River.

There were a few red tapes and tracks heading every which way near the river. We spent about twenty-five minutes walking along the banks in thick scrub trying to find a crossing point. The river was raging, really flowing, and there weren't many good options.

I'd found one big waterhole and was contemplating swimming across and pushing the packs through when Woolza found a better spot. Before I knew it he was already in and making good progress. I looked at him and thought: well, looks like we're going then! The spot he'd found was calf-deep. The water was flowing fast but we were able to stabilise well with trekking poles and get across fairly quickly. Years of experience crossing rivers like this really paid off.

After crossing we still had a fair distance to go. We'd been walking nearly eight hours and I figured we had at least a couple more. It was 4pm, which meant I wasn't going to get the burger I'd been dreaming about all day from the Hungry Wombat at Derwent Bridge. That stung. But at least we'd be out today.

The next section involved trudging through water where the river had spread out. We followed around the north-eastern end of a lake before finally hitting some dry button grass plains, then made our way east into forest. From here we had a track the whole way out. Taped in sections with a good pad the whole way.

As we walked, I noticed the leeches. I'd never seen anything like it. I stopped at one point and looked down to count literally a hundred leeches on the ground in front of me. They were everywhere. A leech check at the car was going to be compulsory.

With the end in sight, it took about an hour from the lake to finally reach Rufus Canal Road and the car. We were overjoyed. After how tough the last two days had been, the relief of being back at the vehicle was immense.

We stripped off our gear and spent the next ten minutes removing leeches from all over our bodies. They were everywhere — and we made absolutely sure they were off our gear too before anyone got in the car.

It was nearly 6pm as we drove off. We headed to Derwent Bridge and Lake St Clair so the others could collect their cars, and then I was on my way home. It had been only been 4 days but felt like a week. What a mission! On my drive home I decided I was going to treat myself to home made pizza, by 10pm I was showered, endulging in fresh pizza and already thinking of the next trip.

This had been a tough trip. Probably one of the toughest short multi-day routes I've done in a while, and the kind of walk that doesn't reveal its difficulty until you're deep in it. The terrain between the Cheyne Range and Mt Gell was relentless: hours of thick scrub, poor visibility, and deep snow at elevation. Day three alone was over ten hours and a thousand metres of ascent, most of it through country that fights you every step.

But that's what makes these trips memorable. The moments of struggle are the ones you talk about for years afterwards. The three Franklin River crossings on day two, the lost umbrella somewhere in the mist, Woolza wading into the raging river on day four like it was nothing, the hundred leeches staring up from the track.

The walking on day one from Mt Rufus down to Shadow Lake was genuinely some of the nicest I've done in Tasmania. And the summit of Mt Hugel on day two was a highlight. Even the miserable lunch on the Cheyne Range had its own kind of charm. Sitting in the mist, full layers on, knowing what lay ahead and choosing to keep going anyway.

Six summits across four days. Some Abels we'd been thinking about for years, finally ticked off. Would we go back? Maybe…. Probably. But I think we'll leave it a while.

The Walk by Numbers:

Mowser

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