When it comes to non-fiction, I’m a sucker for travelogues. There’s something oddly satisfying about sitting down in a comfortable chair and paging through an account about some poor sap struggling to ask directions in a foreign language, or even to check their luggage through airport security. I particularly enjoy the suffering inherent in a good adventure story— the more perilous, the better— which is why I absolutely devoured “Into Thin Air”, John Krakauer’s memoir of an ill-fated Mount Everest expedition in 1996.
In this classic tale of true adventure, Krakauer, a writer for Outside magazine, recounts his assignment to document the rapid growth of commercial guiding companies on Mount Everest’s dangerous slopes. After a relatively smooth start, Krakauer’s team encountered a series of obstacles, including poor communication, equipment failures, a crowded summit route, and finally, inclement weather at the top of the world.
But apart from the disastrous consequences— many of which simply couldn’t be helped— what really struck me was just how much preparation went into the group’s assault on the summit. Even as an experienced climber, Krakauer committed to over a year of training before traveling to Nepal. Local sherpas prepared a number of supply drops and base camps along the route, and the group spent weeks climbing back and forth between altitudes, slowly acclimatizing themselves to the lack of oxygen.
I love a good hike as much as the next person, but trekking 29,000 feet above sea level seems a bit… daunting. So immediately after finishing the book— and after leaving my customary 5-star review— I began scouring the Internet for more modestly-sized peaks. Which is how I became acquainted with a granite outcrop called Mount Wycheproof.
Towering 43 meters above the surrounding grasslands— or an impressive 143 meters above sea level— Wycheproof holds the distinction of being the world’s smallest registered mountain.
Mount Wycheproof gets its name from a few aboriginal words which (somewhat underwhelmingly) translate to “grass on a hill.” This geological anomaly stands watch over Australia’s relatively flat Victoria province, and a small town occupies the summit. Originally founded in 1846 as a whistle stop for the country’s growing railroad line, the town has steadily expanded over the decades, and now several hundred citizens call the place home.
I’m not sure why anyone would ever have a legitimate reason to pass through Melbourne, but on the off chance that you ever do find yourself in this part of Australia, it might be worth amending your itinerary to incorporate a visit. The best way to climb Mount Wycheproof is from the comfort and safety of your rental car, although every year the locals still host a foot race to the summit. A generation ago, the town’s “King of the Mountain” competition even saw young men carrying 70-kilogram sacks of wheat along the race route, in an effort to make the run a little more challenging. Such a rugged setting must naturally breed excellence— in the 1970s, local boy Bernard “Bunny” Read made good as a four-time world champion boomerang thrower, recording an amazing 147 consecutive catches. But even the less-athletically inclined can find something to appreciate on Mount Wycheproof, such as Jimmy Johnson’s legendary gallery of art yo-yos.
While climbing Mount Everest might sound impressive, sporting records show that since Sir Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay first accomplished the feat in 1951, over 4000 people have followed in their footsteps. In fact, there’s a handful of of Nepalese sherpas who’ve reached the summit as many as twenty-five times!
Wycheproof, on the other hand, hosts a far smaller number of serious climbers each year. So just in case you ever have to choose between traveling to either Nepal or Australia— and you’re of a mind to join a truly elite group of mountaineers— in my mind, anyway, the choice is painfully clear.