In the fresh cool of the morning, golden rays of sunlight slowly creep over the High Plains and illuminate the inside of my open tent. I take another sip of coffee. Next to me, a small snowy eucalyptus grove glows soft orange, while above me a lone currawong, a species of crow, announces the new morning. On the southern flank of Mt Feathertop, the remnants of winter snow cover glisten purple. The temperature is just above freezing. Snuggled in my sleeping bag, I reconsider my plan to cover Victoria's three highest peaks in a leisurely five-day hike. Yesterday afternoon, I left my car on the Great Alpine Road at an altitude of 1700 m and hiked north up Razorback. The spectacular ridge leads to Mt Feathertop, Victoria's second highest mountain at 1922m. The views were incredible, but nothing beat the view from the summit - a blazing sun dipping into scarlet oblivion behind the "horns" of Mt Buffalo in the distance. Ahead of me lie the Bogong High Plains, a lonely plateau full of historic huts and herds of Brumbies, wild horses. I quickly packed everything up, just a detour to the summit to catch a glimpse of the distant Mt Bogong. The "Big Man" is Victoria's highest peak (1986 m) and my goal. But first it's down the Diamantina Spur, a steep, merciless two-hour knee-breaker of a descent to the Kiewa River. The snow eucalyptus and rowan bushes are black, grey tree skeletons line the trail - bushfires are the norm in Victoria's alpine region.

After the Diamantina, I fill up my water bottle in the clear waters of the Kiewa before having lunch at Blair Hut, idyllically situated in a grassy clearing by the stream. Suddenly, an echo from the past, when there were cattle ranchers on horseback here. Astonished, I look up from cheese and crackers - and see myself surrounded by horse trekkers. On the steep climb to Weston Hut, solitude has me again. Weston Hut, at tree line level on a flank of the High Plains, was built by cattle ranchers in the 1930s, and the riding stables are still visible. Although the hut was spared by the 2003 fire hell, it crumbled to ashes in the 2006 one before being restored by volunteers in 2011. The grassland around it makes a pleasant campsite and the hut provides shelter from the fickle weather of the High Plains. The snow eucalyptus gives way to tussock grass, brumbies' horse droppings and high pastures as I follow a series of snow poles up to the plateau. The barren highlands, stretching for kilometres in all directions, radiate a simple, sad beauty. I press on towards a junction at post 333. A series of numbered snow posts move up from the south: from Mt Hotham they lead across Cobungra Gap to Bogong. Another row disappears to the northwest towards the Fainters. In the melancholy late afternoon sun, everything is still and quiet, not a soul far or wide. A few kilometres further on, I take a short break to watch a herd of Brumbies eyeing me suspiciously. The lead stallion does not move, he snorts. I continue on my way until I finally set up camp at a copse of snow eucalyptus above Cope Saddle. The temperature is dropping, along with the sun.

Early the next morning, I struggle over ice-covered puddles and through snow drifts. The summit of Mt. Cope rises swaggeringly to my right, but I have other things on my mind - the outhouse at Cope Hut. Having done that, I hurry through the ski area on the east side of the plateau. Missing the gloomy solitude of the High Plains, I head cross-country and tick off Mt. Nelse North, number three in Victoria (1884 m). The Bogong rises massively in front of me as I stroll down to Roper Hut. The 1939 Roper Hut fell victim to the 2003 fire, but rose like a phoenix from the ashes in 2008 and now serves as an emergency shelter. I give myself the afternoon off, laze in the sun and fill my drinking supplies at a nearby waterfall. I spend the following morning, engulfed in fog, leaving the High Plains via steeply ascending and descending trails, some of which are overgrown or blocked by fallen trees. Eventually I cross the Big River and finally climb up to the Bogong. From my spot at the end of the T-trail, where I have lunch, it is only a short walk across snow-covered meadows over to the Cleve Cole Memorial Hut. Nevertheless, I make a diversion to the picturesque Howmann Falls.

Nestled in a beautiful, sheltered hollow on the southeast flank of the mountain, the hut commemorates a local skier caught in a blizzard. The stone structure with bunk beds, sanitary facilities and solar panels is popular with hikers. I exchange pleasantries but want to sleep in my cosy igloo tent - I don't want to miss the sunrise. Early in the morning, the sunlight reflects in the snow, the trees cast long shadows. Although the last stage is very short, it is the most magical of the trip. The sky is deep blue, the earth dazzling white and the air bone-chillingly cold as I follow the poles up to the summit plateau of Bogong. The entire High Plains stretch out to my left, ending in the prominent snow cap of Feathertop, while a long white wall rises in the distance to the right - the Kosciuszko Main Range in New South Wales. I am completely alone up here and incredibly happy. I take the obligatory selfie at the cairn on the summit of Bogong before descending the scenic, sometimes quite exposed Staircase and thinking about how to get back to my car.