APPROPRIATE DEVELOPMENT
Land managers should ensure that built structures are constructed in tune with natural landscapes.
Irecently found out about a new via ferrata operation to be built near the summit of Mt Buller in the Victorian Alps. Mountain playgrounds like this are rare for Australia, and given that Buller has been a ski resort for nearly a century—complete with cleared runs, lifts, summer MTB trails and, most impacting, a whole village of lodges with multiple-story buildings—my view is that this will be beneficial … with a caveat: so long as, unlike the original developments, it is built with aesthetic sensitivity to the location.
I’ve climbed many via ferratas, including in the Dolomites, where they originated. As someone who loves clambering up and around things, I enjoy them, and they allow those without rock-climbing skills to experience some of the wonder and excitement of climbing. However, given the choice of rock climbing up a cliff—rather than ascending an installation of steel rungs, ladders, chains and cables (via ferrata)—I’d always, of course, go for the rock climb. While I find a line of steel hand and foot holds up a cliff irresistible, once I climb it, detailed memory of it soon fades. On even easy rock climbs, however, route finding, working out the best sequence of moves, and managing fear as I ascend further above my last piece of protection, all combine to focus my attention sharply on the moment and my surroundings. Consequently, it’s far more memorable.
It’s not just the added engagement that attracts me. The more natural feel—what I call the ‘wild aesthetic’, a principle that applies across the board when we step out of our modern urban environment— creates for me a truly memorable experience. This aesthetic feels like a balm on my consciousness, an antidote to the modern world’s alienation from nature and its overkill of urban congestion. I’ve sought out this aesthetic all my life. It’s the reason I’d rather weave through prickly scrub than jostle through shopping-mall crowds, why I prefer making my own tracks backcountry skiing rather than weaving around other skiers on a resort piste, why I’d rather ride my mountain bike on singletrack than road, and why I’d rather walk a simple foot pad than an urban footpath-style walking track… no matter how ‘iconic’ it may be. It’s also why I prefer climbing on bigger cliffs than on those with ‘consumer friendly’ single-pitch sport climbs.
Of course, not everyone is like me; most people like to experience nature in a less energetic fashion. But given the chance, I’m sure most would also appreciate that a ‘wild aesthetic’ be applied to developments in natural places.
I was recently riding and walking on Mt Stirling, which rises to Mt Buller’s east. The views are grand in every direction, except that Buller’s natural beauty is marred by the village with its jarring high-rise apartment blocks perched on the tree line. But the resort didn’t just pop up; it evolved over many decades. With the benefit of hindsight, a more aesthetically appealing, environmentally sensible and economically viable option would have been to locate the village in the valley like so many ski resort villages overseas (Ed: Or more locally, even like Thredbo). This might have been possible had the original developers possessed either the vision of what it could become, or a more finely tuned wild-aesthetic sense. Had visitors been forced to park in the valley some distance below the village, they might today reach the resort via a shuttle, or even be whisked up to it in a gondola. Despite the probable hefty ticket price, the latter would be popular—and would spare visitors driving up the sometimes icy road. It would also likely be profitable, with a portion of profits potentially channelled into mitigating the effects of skiing and mountain biking on the sensitive alpine environment.
Unlike the controversial gondola proposal for Hobart’s kunyanyi/Mt Wellington—which would be highly visible from virtually all the city and therefore, in my opinion an unacceptable eyesore—Mt Buller’s topography allows for a discretely placed gondola that wo uld have had a minimal visual impact from most aspects. Leave No Trace famously has seven principles which generally apply to individual behaviour, but I think there could be a worthy, overarching eighth principle, one that would help land managers focus on the wild aesthetic: Ensure that any built structure, be it a track, road, building or tower is hidden from view or made to blend into the landscape.
THE ‘WILD AESTHETIC', A PRINCIPLE THAT APPLIES ... WHEN WE STEP OUT OF OUR MODERN URBAN ENVIRONMENT— CREATES FOR ME A TRULY MEMORABLE EXPERIENCE.”