Of highlands and heartlines - Mount Douglas to Soc's camp

Today was four seasons in one day.....
Low cloud in the morning, 
sunny periods at morning tea time, 
drizzle at lunchtime, 
clouds rolling in during the afternoon, 
ferocious winds overnight with rain

Thick forested, undulating ridgetop walking...... sounds familiar.

We came across the remains of the boy found on last year's trek. 
The skeleton was still intact, with T-shirt and shorts, but no footwear or personal belongings. 
Succumbing to exposure was the likely cause of death. 
Permission had been given to bury the remains and the boys, after fashioning a wooden cross, paid their last respects. 
It was a rather sombre affair. I could not help but wonder why he was there, and what had happened.

We climbed out of the scrub and onto the grasslands. 
The mountain range now revealed its basalt rock foundations as we approached the south western flanks of the Mt Vic massif.

The plan was to camp at Soc's High Camp, near two shallow lakes around a forested knoll. 
The tarns were dry last year, but this year they were full, a sign of the amount of rain the mountains had received. 
I had no intention of washing, though a few (fool)hardy boys did venture in for a dip.

Clouds and mists swirled in with strong winds and the temperatures dropped. 
Tents was hastily set up with the weather deteriorating.
Camped in a cold and somewhat exposed position, I retreated to the tent and put on every layer of clothing I had. 

My hot water bottles were definitely a god-send that night. 
The winds howled and I had to secure the tent on a couple of occasions. The camp tarp was blown from its anchors and billowed like a sail in the stiff gusts.
Not much sleep was had.....