A challenge with altitude - surf to snow in a day

A kookaburra laughs zealously at me from its vantage spot in the twisted gums overlooking Mystery Bay. But the laughing bird is not alone in taking a cheap shot at your Akubra (and snorkel!) clad columnist. Soon an elderly gentleman, clearly a local, rugged up with parka and beanie and being dragged by his youthful border collie along the beach approaches. ‘‘Are you crazy?’’ he hollers, before poignantly adding, ‘‘are you a pommy?’’ I shake my head in response before gingerly taking another step towards the shoreline. The sun has just crept above the horizon and, although it’s a clear day, the temperature is barely above zero and in the water it’d be lucky to be 13 degrees.

Not exactly what you’d call ideal conditions for an early morning dip. So have I lost the plot? Well, not quite. It’s all in the name of a challenge. Due to the proximity of the South Coast beaches to the peaks of the NSW Snowies, for many years I’ve heard countless Canberrans say it’s easy to take a dip in the morning and have a play in the snow in the afternoon. Not surprisingly, I don’t know of anyone who has actually achieved it.So I’m attempting the fabled feat and much to Mrs Yowie’s exasperation, rather than wait until spring when the South Coast does a much better job of being a beach resort and when mountain weather enables skiing in T-shirts, I’ve insisted if it’s going to be done, it has to be right now in the dead of winter.

Further, to document my escapades, I’ve dragged Dave Moore, a mate (well at least he was prior to this trip) along to document my attempt at the surf-snow daily double. In fact, it could be argued that he’s crazier than me, for he joins me for a dawn snorkel. ‘‘It’s actually not too bad,’’ he boldly claims as goosebumps crowd for space on his shivering body. To add an extra dimension to my challenge, I’m also planning on having breakfast at sea level followed by a late lunch at Australia’s highest cafe – Eagle’s Nest, perched above Thredbo at 1937 metres above sea level.

With the swim out of the way (yes, the kookaburra laughed at us all the way back to the carpark) we drive into nearby Narooma trying to find a suitable altitude-challenged eatery for breakfast. A cheery fella in the local servo reckons it’s the oddest question he’s ever been asked. ‘‘I get all sorts of questions from you tourists, like where’s the nearest beach, but never in my 30 years has anyone asked which cafe in town is closest to sea level,’’ he chortles. Eventually with a bit of coaxing he points us in the direction of the Quarterdeck Cafe. And he’s on the money. Set on the quiet waters of nearby Wagonga Inlet, it’s just gone high tide and as we take our seat at the yellow and green 1950s retro-style tables, the briny is literally lapping at our feet.

The cafe’s decked out in all sorts of nautical paraphernalia and brightly-dressed owner Chris Scroggy saunters over to take our order. He’s been running the knock-out cafe for the best part of a decade and says he has more than 300 Hawaiian shirts. The cheerful colours of his shirt (apparently #237) warm us up almost as much as the piping hot cappuccino and Gilligan’s Island breakfast. With the clock ticking, I scoff my bacon, eggs and sausage in record time, wave goodbye to Scroggy and, like some sort of mis-matched couple from The Amazing Race, grab Dave who is still wiping the remnants of his egg Benedict from his chin and scamper at pace back to the Yowie Mobile. It’s already 10am and while some keen snow bunnies have probably already been on the slopes for two hours, we still haven’t left the coast.

With sand still between the toes and the air temperature having climbed to a temperate 15, we motor off towards the Snowies. Time is slipping away and we reach Bemboka a bit behind schedule. Now it’s almost sacrilege to drive through this sleepy coastal hamlet and not stop for one of their legendary pies, but we’re on a mission and, much to Dave’s obvious disappointment, not even the prospect of the best steak and mushroom pie in the state is going to stop me.

I get all sorts of questions from you tourists, like where’s the nearest beach, but never in my 30 years has anyone asked which cafe in town is closest to sea level

As we negotiate the tight curves of Brown Mountain with each 100-metre gain in altitude the Yowie Mobile thermometer indicates we are dropping a degree. ‘‘At this rate it’ll be minus 10 in the Snowies,’’ warns Dave, still bravely sporting his board shorts and rash top. By the time we reach Pipers Lookout atop Brown Mountain, it’s dropped to just seven degrees. The lookout is named after Bob Piper who was a bus driver who braved the icy conditions on these roads for six days a week for 28 years, until a fateful day in August 1947 when, while shovelling snow off the road, he collapsed and died. Thankfully, there’s no snow on the road today, but we stop for the obligatory photo. It’s a perfect day and the view to the coast is sublime. Dave says he’s driven this road dozens of times and ‘‘has never seen such a clear view’’. Perhaps we’ve got luck on our side after all.