Day 6 - Mount Mac

I don't remember what was for breakfast on the day we took the Mount Mackie trail. I remember that I was late to the feedshack in the morning, so instead of feeding the dogs Mary asked me if I would like to help chop the meat. I leapt to the task and was soon hacking away at a frozen chunk of beef (32kgs) with an axe. I don't think it needs to be said that I had fun, and volunteered to be official meat chopper from then on.
The Mount Mackie climb was nothing compared to the climb to Bonville, though far longer it simply wasn't as steep, and the dogs needed little help tugging the sled up the mountain, we were scarce out of breath by the time we reached the top.
I had seen the mountains from the valleys, and the view had been spectacular, majestic, awesome. Now I was seeing the valley from the mountain, and the view was so similar. The broad, flat stretch of ice covered water cut a swaithe through the valley like the facet of a flawless diamond, the mountains reared up behind them like the Titans of Greek mythology, primal beings demanding attention and respect, and yet modest and respectful, hiding from the world here in the wilderness. Photos were necessary.
When we started moving again the first thing that caught my eye was the burned out wreck of a car, no one knows how it got up here on the spine of Thrym, no one knows who put it up here, but everyone seems to agree that its far too much hassle to get it down. But there was little time to contemplate, because we had reached the plataeu, and from here the downhill started.
It wasn't like the Bush trail, or Bonville Ridge, up here on Mt. Mac there was virtually no vegetation bigger than a few scattered, skeleton bushes. No trees to block the view or deflect the wind. We rushed around the curve of the mountain on a broad trail, down shallow hills and up short rises, leaping from crest to crest like hounds born from the snow rushing to return to it. We passed over narrow ridges joining two valleys like bridges, always aware that if we slipped too far to the side we would be buried in the snow, we passed round the mountain, privy to more spectacular views of forest, lake, and magnificent, clear blue sky. It was like a race, each time I caught up to Alan I would stop, hold my dogs back until he was far enough ahead to give my hounds a run, enough to give me the rush I had come to love so much.