Touching the Sky: Kunanyi, Tasmania

I gazed across to the horizon from the lookout at Kunanyi, also known as Mount Wellington. Kunanyi looms over Hobart/Nipiluna with majesty.

Moments later, I experienced snow for the first time in my life.

I shoved my gloved hands into my jacket pockets, faced the brutal wind and watched the flakes fall as soft as duck down, as cold as icy razers.

It was a lust for adventure on an October day that had drawn me half-way to the summit. I found myself among the clouds on the mountain that touches the sky.

View from Kunanyi/Mount Wellington, Hobart/Nipiluna (Photo credit: Sonia Morell)

Wellington National Park, which is where Kunanyi is situated, is on 18 011 ha, stretching across South West Tasmania from Hobart. Considered a sacred site by the Indigenous Palawa people, Kunanyi itself is 21km west of the CBD. In summer, locals hike and mountain bike its many trails, and in winter when the snow is thicker, visitors throw snowballs. With multiple places to stop as you wind your way upwards, Pinnacle Road which leads to the actual summit of Kunanyi is often closed due to snow and ice. The fact that I had made it up given the strong winds and constant drizzle was a victory in itself.

Traditional owners believe that their spirits go beyond the mountain when they die. They request that visitors treat Kunanyi with respect. This includes not leaving rubbish or destroying its natural state. You must remember that when you walk Kunanyi, you walk in the footsteps of Aboriginal people from over tens of thousands of years.

This was the third last day of my Tasmanian adventure. I'd spent nine others crossing the island, discovering sapphire seas and green pastures, dense rainforests and achingly beautiful coastlines, and now my heart swelled like the currents lapping at Sullivan's Cove. A place where history, place and people are all melted together, Tasmania did not disappoint. 

This trip had brought me so much. It threw me into a different world with complexities that prompted me to reconsider my own story and heritage. I discovered a landscape infinitely Australian, but not dry and sunburnt. Another perspective of our nation was revealed to me, this smaller part making me question the whole. 

As I stood on Kunanyi I turned my face to the blue sky. In just over forty-eight hours I'd be soaring above Hobart on my way back to the mainland. I knew I'd grieve, but that didn't frighten me. I'd be sustained by memories, secure in the knowledge that such a stunning place existed, and I could return in the future. Once you see, you cannot unsee.

Nor would you want to.