Ford Everest adventure series: On-piste and off-road family fun in the Snowy Mountains

Two milestones happened in May 1953, and we’ll readily admit the publication of the very first issue of Wheels magazine is trumped for achievement by the other.

It’s 70 years since Edmund Hilary and Tenzing Norgay ventured into the “dead zone” to stand nearly nine kilometres above sea level, summiting the world’s tallest mountain for the first time in recorded history.

The anniversaries create a neat symmetry around our drive to the Snowy Mountains, the home of Australia’s highest peak. Our chosen vehicle is the 2023 Wheels Car of the Year and, yes, called the Ford Everest.

91

Our ‘expedition’ is far less precarious than the long, icy ascent made by the legendary New Zealander and Nepali-Indian Sherpa pairing, yet it’s also not exactly undaunting: a first ever family skiing trip.

Perhaps the most anxious of questions, which cannot possibly be answered until we’ve been on the white stuff, is whether the rest of my family will enjoy a winter sport that has been a passion of this husband/father ever since bright-coloured jumpsuits were a fashionable thing. (I never wore one, just to be clear, though there may have been a neon ski jacket in the 1990s.)

Wife Gloria hasn’t skied for about 30 years and, perhaps owing to a Canberran childhood, has a strong dislike for the cold; our two boys Sebastian and Edison – 10 and 6 years old – have never tried skiing and are neither the most adventurous nor bravest of youngsters.

91

Buying ski clothing, ski passes, and hiring ski equipment ahead of the trip is straightforward. Finding affordable accommodation is not. A basic cabin with shared external bathroom that’s still a half-hour drive from the slopes? That will be $500 per night, thanks.

Snow conditions can be another source of angst, and Australia’s ski resorts had a tricky start to the season with limited snowfall and some wet weather. Just a week before we’re due to arrive, however, a multiple wave of successive cold fronts dumped about half a metre of snow upon our destination, Thredbo.

The boys are buoyed by that news, and happier again when told we’ll be staying overnight in Canberra with “pappoús” rather than driving five hours straight to our Airbnb in Jindabyne.

91

Sea level

Sydney to the ACT via the Hume Highway is not the most inspiring of journeys, yet the Ford Everest – a Sport variant finished in striking Blue Lightning – at least provides ample relaxation through its comfortable seats, vast interior space, and impressive on-road refinement that were among the attributes that scored the Ford the pinnacle of Australian motoring awards.

Seb and Eddy prove adept at making the back seat homely. They have pillows and blankets for additional comfort, but they also leave no storage option unused. Seb even turns the roof-mounted hand grip into a temporary chip-packet holder; Eddy copies.

578 metres above sea level

After a good feed and sleep in Canberra, it’s time to hit the road again. Specifically, the Monaro Highway.

For those heading to the snow virtually non-stop from Sydney, the Monaro brings both a psychological and geographical change.

As the vast estates of the capital’s outer suburbs recede, gradually replaced by relatively barren landscapes of earthy hues, there’s a dophamine-infused awareness that the halfway point has been well and truly passed.

It’s a two-hour drive to Jindabyne, at least when traffic is as relatively quiet as it is on this last Saturday of the July school holidays. When overtaking opportunities present themselves, the Everest’s V6 diesel responds enthusiastically and assertively.

91

800 metres above sea level

There’s been no need to fill up since departing Sydney so far, and the trip computer predicts at least 200km of range is left in the tank by the time we reach the unofficial capital of the Snowy Mountains region: Cooma.

We choose to fill up in the region’s biggest town, however, to take advantage of fuel prices that – we know from experience – will be cheaper than those in Jindabyne. (That suspicion will later prove well founded again.)

91

It's in Cooma where the Monaro Highway (I have to keep reminding myself that “monairo” is pronounced differently to the famous Holden coupe) blends into Kosciusko Road via the Snowy Mountains Highway.

Granite boulders, some with highly unusual, Stonehenge-esque arrangements, continue to provide the most fascinating sights through the Monaro Plains. After passing through the tiny town of Berridale, with its scattering of 19th-century buildings, the approach to Jindabyne grabs the family’s attention as snow-capped mountains are spotted at last.

91

‘Mountains’ is quite a loose description – and even dictionary definitions are vague, to be fair.

Not wanting to subdue their excitement at seeing the distant snow, I resist the temptation to tell the boys that they’ll need trips to the likes of New Zealand’s South Island, Europe, or North America to see proper, sharply peaked alps.

I tell them a cool fact, though: you need about four Mount Kosciuszkos – Australia’s tallest mountain at 2228 metres – to match the 8850m height of Mount Everest.

91

915 metres above sea level

We rendezvous with photographer Thomas in the bustling alpine hub of Jindabyne, with its permanently picturesque lakeside setting.

On early winter mornings in “Jindy”, there’s always a buzz as well as a chill in the air as skiers and boarders alike prepare for their day on the slopes.

We grab coffees and bacon/egg rolls from a hole-in-the-wall café as we discuss today’s plan to get onto the snow – in the Everest rather than on skis.

If Jindabyne is the true gateway to the snow, there’s a choice of ‘gates’ as you cross to the other side of town: turn left for Thredbo (or the Skitube rack-rail train that transports people up to Perisher) or go straight for the road to Perisher.

We take the latter, targeting Guthega Road as potential for some off-road driving.

Passing over the Thredbo River into the densely wooded Kosciuszko National Park, road markings turn from white to orange – the brighter colour an essential assist for drivers in snowy conditions. The road is completely clear today, though.

The serpentine route and its mostly 80km/h speed limit create plenty of opportunities for the Everest to demonstrate the steering accuracy and composed body control that place its handling well above its most direct ladderframe-4WD rivals.

91

The Everest’s dual-range, permanent four-wheel-drive system also means we can drive straight past Sawpit Creek Chain Bay and its signs warning that 2WD vehicles must be carrying snow chains from this point, regardless of conditions.

After a brief stop at the Rennix walking track parking area, where we’re almost blown off our feet by high winds while being photographed by Thomas, we make a right turn onto Guthega Road.

It’s sealed for much longer than I last remember, becoming gravelly for only the last few kilometres before we finally reach snow. But further progress, as well as our enthusiasm, is halted by a No Entry sign.

91

1640 metres above sea level

Just past some local ski clubs, the snow track to the famous Guthega Inn is off limits to all but skidoos and caterpillar-tracked ATVs being used for shuttling guests.

With no obvious person to request permission from to drive just the few hundred metres for our snow-driving experience, we’re tempted to adopt the ‘beg for forgiveness’ approach, though decide to try and find another location on another day. But not before the boys kickstart a family snowball fight.

We return to Jindy – first to drop all our bags at our eco-cabin accommodation, set in remote rolling hills to the south of the town, then back into the centre to collect our ski rentals.

91

The Everest’s interior versatility comes into play here. If this were our own Everest, we’d have Ford accessory roof racks and ski carriers, but instead we simply lower the ‘40’ segment of the 60-40 split rear seats.

Skis and poles slide into the extended cargo area; the boys then occupy the left and middle rear seats.

Importantly, when back at the cabin, I remember to take the ski boots inside so they’re not freezing cold for the next morning.

An early start for those staying in Jindy is imperative to avoid long queues of traffic to the resorts. We’re among the first to the Thredbo car park. By the time we’ve got the boys and ourselves layered up and booted up, the car park is full.

91

It’s a “bluebird” day, and I’m tempted to tell the boys skiing is always like this. If only.

Gloria joins the boys for a morning ski lesson, the mixed ages prompting us to choose a private instructor over separate groups.

Seb and Eddy’s feelings are also mixed – half apprehensive, half restrained excitement – though instructor Emma has the perfect nature and temperament to quickly make them feel at ease.

91

1937 metres above sea level

It’s my cue for some solo skiing, and I hit the trails – reaching what will be the highest elevation of the trip at the top of the Eagle’s Nest chairlift.

The snow is crusty and skiddy at lower levels, yet near-perfect up here.

After a couple of hours, I can’t resist checking on the family’s progress. A return to Friday Flats finds Seb and Eddy gaining steady confidence; Gloria seems to be enjoying herself, too.

91

The day’s warming, though, and jackets and mid-layers are soon dispensed with, before lunch brings the first opportunity to introduce the boys to the joys of hot-choccy at the snow.

Re-energised the boys may be for an afternoon ski, but a move to a slightly steeper, if much quieter, slope sheds the boys’ confidence. They have a few runs, to their credit, but we call it quits for the day relatively early.

And, anyway, there’s some photography to do back at the cabin. And, as darkness falls, some incredible star-gazing; without Sydney’s light pollution, the Milky Way reveals itself in all its streaky glory.

91

Thomas wants a shot of me in the outside bath. It’s not the strangest thing I’ve ever been asked to do in my career, and once in I’m actually reluctant to get out, with the deep hot water making the single-digit air temperature completely irrelevant.

I’ve again remembered to remove the ski boots from the Everest, but next morning I realise a schoolboy error. I didn’t put the kids’ boots by the cabin’s internal fireplace and they’re moist enough to dampen the boys’ enthusiasm for another morning of skiing.

We decide instead to take them for a gondola ride up to Merritt’s Mountain House, with an alfresco alpine lunch sandwiched between another snowball fight and human tobogganing down an icy bank.

91

We pass some kids with sleds who have found their own great spot as we embark on an afternoon mission: snow play in the Everest

Proper tobogganing isn’t permitted at the ski resorts, and away from Thredbo, on slopes by the parking area for the Dead Horse Gap walking track, we pass some kids with sleds who have found their own great spot as we embark on an afternoon mission: snow play in the Everest.

You can walk from here to the Mount Kosciuszko summit lookout – a trek that takes abouttwo and a half hours – but it’s no longer possible, or rather permissible, to drive up to Australia’s highest peak.

91

The old Summit Road was closed in 1977 amid concerns for the environment.

The Alpine Way looks even more stunning this side of Thredbo. Snow blankets the entire landscape, with the sole exception the ribbon of bitumen threading its way westwards, before turning northwards.

It’s about an hour and a half from here to the Bringenbrong Bridge that provides passage into Victoria. It’s about 2 hours 45 minutes to the closest Vic Alps ski resort, Falls Creek.

91

1550 metres above sea level

We’re sticking to the Snowys, however, and don’t have to venture far beyond Dead Horse Gap to pass a ‘Siberia’ sign that doesn’t look out of place in these conditions; especially when we find an off-road area to explore, even if small in scale.

We first press the 4A button on the Everest’s 4WD dial, which instructs the Ford to automatically shuffle torque between the front and rear axles as necessary.

We then twist the dial to select Slippery mode, modifying the drivetrain and traction control responses for this low-grip scenario.

Smooth, gentle inputs – whether steering, braking or acceleration – are important on the soft stuff, though this also needs to be balanced with maintaining crucial momentum.

91

Keeping vision up, looking at the terrain ahead, is also vital.

Occasionally, the Everest’s wheels momentarily slip as we roll across the snow, but each time the expertly calibrated electronic traction control system is rapidly on the case.

The electronics are undoubtedly having to work harder than usual, because here’s a revelation: our Everest is on regular road tyres.

This makes the Ford’s thoroughly entertaining and near-effortless off-road progress all the more impressive, even if we would still recommend all-terrain rubber as a minimum for adventurous expeditions.

91

Seb and Eddy make a slightly scaring-looking “snow witch” as the Everest circulates for a few more laps – like a deep-blue iceberg floating undeterred through the white stuff.

It’s then time to head back to base camp in Jindabyne after another gorgeous day in New South Wales’ alpine region. We tell the kids it’s not always like this, explaining how weather conditions can change quickly in mountainous regions and why it’s important to always be prepared with clothing, with food, with equipment.

A versatile family vehicle has proven to be a valuable piece of ‘equipment’ for our trip, the Ford Everest ever ready to adapt with its marriage of ruggedness and refinement.

And as we start the long drive back to Sydney with the boys saying they loved the trip and keen to go skiing again, there’s parental relief that we’ve conquered our first family ski holiday.

For information on the Ford Everest range and features please visit here [↗].

91