AAA<\/p>\n
I\u2019m sitting in Becca Lunnon\u2019s living room, and things feel a little strange. The room itself is fine \u2013 it\u2019s a pleasant enough spot looking out on her slightly neglected garden. There\u2019s a pair of gymnastics rings hanging from the ceiling and a set of beanbags instead of couches, but apart from that, it\u2019s everything you\u2019d expect from a comfortable home in Acton, a sort-of-Hobart suburb near the airport, with horsey two-hectare blocks and a quick commute into the city.<\/p>\n
But it\u2019s the comfort that makes it weird. Normally when I\u2019m chatting to Lunnon, who is 39, we\u2019re halfway up a mountain in the Tasmanian south-west, trying to decide whether the clifflines to the left look slightly better than the ones to the right. We\u2019re soaked with rain, grinning at atrocious conditions<\/a> or sitting in frosty socks, watching the sun rise over a tumbled pile of mountains.<\/p>\n We\u2019ve walked together, here and there, for nearly 15 years, but a lot of that is in the past for me. Having a young family has limited my hiking over the last 10 years, but Lunnon is about to become the first known woman to complete the Hobart Walking Club\u2019s (HWC) Peak-baggers\u2019 List, and that\u2019s not something I could miss.<\/p>\n Lists of mountains are pretty common. Serious mountaineers might aim for the highest peak on every continent. The Munros in Scotland is a more down-to-earth example \u2013 that list dates from 1891, and thousands of people have completed it. In the 1990s, local walker Bill Wilkinson developed the Abels, a similar system for Tasmania.<\/p>\n But the HWC list is a beast. It includes 481 mountains and a points system based on \u201cnotability (or notoriety), walking distance, walking elevation required, type of terrain and tracks, height of peak and proximity to other peaks\u201d. The points range from one (such as Kunanyi\/Mount Wellington above Hobart \u2013 you can drive to the top) to 10 for Federation Peak, a mountain I\u2019ll likely never climb \u2013 you only need to look at the cliffy photos to work out why. Plenty of these mountains are remote, untracked and require days of bashing through horrendous scrub to even get close. If you climb the lot, you score the full 900 points.<\/p>\n The HWC\u2019s Geoff Morffew, 75, has been responsible for the development of the list for more than 40 years. He worked as an accountant, which, he says, is why he took on the job. \u201cI suppose I lean that way into formalising things,\u201d he explains. Did he ever think that people would actually finish it? \u201cThat was the thing,\u201d he says. \u201cPeople didn\u2019t anticipate that anyone would.\u201d<\/p>\n Multiple factors make the list difficult to complete. The sheer number, for one. \u201cAnd some of them are fairly remote\u2009\u2026\u2009and the further you get along, as you tick them off, the remaining ones become harder, longer, rougher, and some of them, really you\u2019d have to be pretty committed to want to get to them.\u201d<\/p>\n For Lunnon, that\u2019s part of the appeal<\/a>. \u201cI like the truly remote, and I quite like the walks where you don\u2019t have any intel,\u201d she says. Climbing wild mountains like these requires serious experience, meticulous planning and all the right equipment, but, \u201cIt\u2019s probably when I feel most alive, rather than just: \u2018Here\u2019s a track for a walk.\u2019\u2009\u201d<\/p>\n The first HWC list was published in 1965, more as a joke \u2013 only six well-known peaks made the grade. Since then, the numbers have soared, and while bushwalking is a significant activity in Tasmania \u2013 with a participation rate of more than 26 per cent \u2013 only four people, all of them men, are known to have climbed all 481 peaks.<\/p>\n But Lunnon only has one mountain to go.<\/p>\n \u201cI had no idea what I was doing when I started out,\u201d Lunnon explains. She grew up in Melbourne and remembers taking touristy walks on holidays. \u201cMum would say that I absolutely hated it, I always wanted to know where home was, and I\u2019d have my head in a book.\u201d But when she moved to Hobart in her 20s, she fell into a job selling bushwalking equipment. \u201cI had no idea what these things were,\u201d she laughs, recalling her first experience of outdoor gear. \u201cI didn\u2019t even know what gaiters were. The closest terminology I had was garters, and I was like, \u2018They\u2019re definitely not garters!\u2019\u2009\u201d<\/p>\n Lunnon decided the best way to learn about the gear was by using it. When a colleague, Simon Kendrick, mentioned a kayaking trip to climb Scotts Peak in the middle of Lake Pedder<\/a>, her ears pricked up. \u201cOh, I\u2019d love to do something like that,\u201d she\u2019d said.<\/p>\n \u201cWell,\u201d he replied. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you come with us?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI had none of the right gear, I had no idea what I was doing,\u201d Lunnon recalls. \u201cBut I remember sitting on top of Scotts Peak and being like, \u2018Whoa.\u2019\u2006\u201d<\/p>\n The lake was perfectly still, the water was as blue as the sky, and the view of mountains all around her was reflected in the lake.<\/p>\n Related Article<\/p>\n \u201cI remember her being really happy,\u201d Kendrick tells me. \u201cReally content.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI just had this sense,\u201d Lunnon says. \u2009\u201c\u2018One day I will have climbed most of those places.\u2019\u2009\u201d<\/p>\n At the time, she didn\u2019t know who she was or what she wanted to do. A tomboy growing up, she wasn\u2019t sure where she belonged; but that all changed when she went out into the mountains. \u201cMaybe it was about that permission to be who you are because\u2009\u2026\u2009the bush doesn\u2019t care who you are,\u201d she reflects. \u201cIt was a place where I could just express who I was.\u201d<\/p>\n Lunnon\u2019s last remaining peak (for three points) is Mount Rugby, a striking 773-metre mountain on the edge of Bathurst Harbour in the deep south-west, which she\u2019s planning to climb with a group of friends. But there\u2019s a hitch \u2013 a couple of weeks before the trip, she tears her MCL (a ligament on the inside of the knee), competing in an adventure race in New Zealand, leaving her leg in a complicated, restrictive brace.<\/p>\n She has talked through her plans to tackle Mount Rugby with her physio: \u201cHe\u2019s absolutely horrified at how much I\u2019ve already done on it.\u201d At first, he had ruled out her trip, but when she explained that she was going to climb the mountain with or without his blessing, \u201cit did get to the point where he just thanked me for my honesty.\u201d<\/p>\n A week after Lunnon tells me about her injury, we meet at Cambridge Airport, just outside Hobart. We\u2019re flying to the tiny settlement of Melaleuca, at one end of the famous South Coast Track, to get as close to Mount Rugby as we can. The flight over the south-west mountains is a little queasy, and it\u2019s a relief to land on the white gravel airstrip. Most of our party begin to inflate pack-rafts \u2013 they can paddle a chunk of the way, which is good for Lunnon\u2019s knee. My friend Jess and I slog down the muddy Port Davey Track<\/a> before wandering through light scrub to meet them at Claytons Corner, our staging point before the ascent.<\/p>\n Lunnon seems to be moving pretty well without crutches, if a little restricted, though she\u2019s worried she\u2019ll be slow. Will it all be more challenging when we get to the climbing? Will we actually reach the top?<\/p>\n There was a time when finishing the list didn\u2019t feel certain for Lunnon. She wasn\u2019t alone \u2013 plenty of peak-baggers start strong, but family, work, health issues and changing interests mean they peter out. They might score 600, 700 points \u2013 but as Morffew noted, the list gets harder. \u201cYou do get to a middle bit there where everything is going to take a little bit longer; there are no nice, simple, easy day walks any more,\u201d Lunnon says.<\/p>\n But Lunnon started young, and her friendship group was based around walking. Her partner at the time, Graham, was an avid hiker. Coming into her mid-30s, she also figured she was less likely to be having kids. \u201cI don\u2019t think it would have worked for me unless you could take kids along, and obviously, there are a lot of mountains out there that are not kid-friendly.\u201d<\/p>\n It did become more challenging when, at age 30, she started working as a paramedic and the rostering system didn\u2019t line up with Graham\u2019s availability. \u201cAnd there was a moment in there because, also, he didn\u2019t like me to go walking without him, when I thought, maybe I won\u2019t finish the list.\u201d<\/p>\n She slows down as she thinks. Graham died from a heart attack in 2020. At the time, I felt awful to be in COVID-19 lockdown and unable to attend his funeral. I remember walking with Lunnon as soon as I possibly could afterwards, a couple of fun peaks in the north-west, just to express a kind of solidarity.<\/p>\n Related Article Graham\u2019s death changed what walking meant for her \u2013 it wasn\u2019t just a long list of places to visit. \u201cAfter he died, that prompted a complete rethinking of what life is about for me, and how I actually wanted to live it\u2009\u2026\u2009For me, the central pillars became my friends and family and the experiences that I have.\u201d Continuing to work through the list chimed with her new set of goals: she wanted to spend quality time with the people who mattered and, where possible, she wanted that to happen in nature.<\/p>\n But she felt painfully aware that little in life was certain. \u201cWhen I started, I was like, \u2018It\u2019s totally going to happen.\u2019 And there was just a point when I was like, \u2018Well, actually, I can see how this might not happen.\u2019\u2006\u201d<\/p>\n Graham\u2019s death only emphasised this point. \u201cYou can\u2019t expect anything, because you just don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n What does the idea of finishing mean for Lunnon? \u201cIn its simplest form: \u2018I\u2019ve climbed all the mountains on the list,\u2019\u2009\u201d she explains. \u201cIn some ways it doesn\u2019t actually mean anything more than that, except that to go out into the bush, I\u2019ll need to be a bit more imaginative about why I\u2019m going to be climbing things.\u201d<\/p>\n That might mean more scrubby, relatively unknown peaks in the future, but she\u2019s also taken up adventure races, trail running and caving. As well as her ambulance work, she\u2019s been working as a wilderness paramedic, called out to help when the weather is too foul for the rescue helicopter to fly.<\/p>\n At the same time, she enjoys revisiting mountains, which might make for more leisurely trips. \u201cSince I\u2019ve met [her present partner] Tim, he\u2019s been very much like, \u2018There\u2019s no room for both of us to be chasing things like a peak-baggers\u2019 list.\u2019 \u2009I feel like he\u2019s put any possibility of him wanting to have a strong opinion about where we go or what we do totally aside.\u201d Finishing the list would allow for new ways to walk together.<\/p>\n How about being the first known woman to finish? \u201cWell, it sounds cool!\u201d she laughs. She likes the idea of influencing other women to attempt similar challenges. \u201cIf I can see women doing things that are a bit different\u2009\u2026\u2009it does help me to be like, \u2018Oh, I can do the things that I think are hard, too.\u2019\u2009\u201d<\/p>\n But before that, she has to heave her way up one last mountain. We make an early start on the Saturday, ferrying across Bathurst Harbour on the pack-rafts and setting out on a track that climbs steeply up Mount Rugby.<\/p>\n I ask Lunnon how she\u2019s travelling. \u201cI\u2019m feeling great! A little bit uncoordinated, a little catchy on stuff.\u201d [The scrub is getting tangled in her knee brace.] But she sets a cracking pace at the front and at one point Ben, a member of the party, teases her. \u201cHow\u2019s that slow, struggling speed going, Becca? Can we get another leg brace for you?\u201d<\/p>\n We arrive on a ridgeline, which offers a fabulous view of Bathurst Harbour and the south-west. \u201cHalf a mountain to go, Becca,\u201d says Adrian, another member of the group. \u201cWho\u2019s counting?\u201d she replies, grinning.<\/p>\n Related Article The rest of the mountain is in cloud, and it stays that way. We push through overhanging scrub, scramble on the slippery conglomerate rock and finally reach the top in full white-out. We climb onto the summit rock as a group. Lunnon waits a moment, then reaches down to touch it.<\/p>\n There are cheers and congratulations. Then Lunnon asks if anyone would mind if she scatters Graham\u2019s ashes at the peak. I feel glad and yet deeply saddened to know he\u2019d been travelling with us. She chooses a flatter spot on the summit boulder \u2013 Graham had never really liked the airy cliffs, either \u2013 and as we sit there chatting, reflecting and joking in the chill wind, I\u2019m struck by something Lunnon said to me a few weeks before.<\/p>\n \u201cIt would be kind of nice to be, like, \u2018Yep, I\u2019ve finished the list,\u2019 but that\u2019s not the bigger achievement. The bigger achievement is how you\u2019ve done it and the people you\u2019ve inspired along the way, and the memories you\u2019ve shared\u2009\u2026\u2009and all the stories \u2013 you know when you go out for a walk and you pass places or you smell smells, and all those memories come? I love that.\u201d<\/p>\n Read more from Good Weekend<\/a>:<\/p>\n![\"Becca](\"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/au\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/9e796969dc714a63bf2834990dda74478e220496.jpeg\")
Becca Lunnon atop Federation Peak, which rates a maximum 10 in difficulty amongst Tasmanian climbs.<\/p>\n![\"Soaked](\"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/au\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/6f9a9f2016d8f7d796186160952132e68c62e067.jpeg\")
Soaked with rain yet grinning at atrocious conditions has been part and parcel of Becca Lunnon\u2019s climbing adventure in Tasmania.<\/p>\n![\"Becca](\"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/au\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/e56e2d90d361bfe55a8909481f8a1f53bab4d2e1.jpeg\")
Becca Lunnon takes a break on Federation Peak in the Eastern Arthurs Range in Tasmania.<\/p>\n![\"Michael](\"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/au\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/ac67e92613f478f16d86aaea9db8c5f16c7c0cbd.jpeg\")
<\/a><\/p>\n![\"Becca](\"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/au\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/4d8fea6689858fdb833d267e3435de187a15af63.jpeg\")
Becca Lunnon and her climbing crew crossing Bathurst Harbour to approach Mount Rugby.<\/p>\n![\"Socceroos](\"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/au\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/6ac6bd3a6f86f28f75b96d551857557ad98b7eab25c3cd75b5198762438ba51e.gif\")
<\/a><\/p>\n