What’s Causing the Increasing Number of Rescues in the Aussie Bush?

It’s just hiking, right? In the Relationship with Risk series, Josh Hamill of Better Hiking explores how we’re losing touch with risk in the outdoors, and how we can get back on track.

It’s all too easy to fall prey to the allure of the mountains.

The thrill of the climb, the movement through complex terrain, the triumph over challenge; it’s why we seek out the higher places – you simply can’t get this fix at sea level.

Yes, even the hills we have in Australia can provide a solid dose of mountain stoke.

And for the inexperienced, it’s hard to pass on the opportunity to jump straight in, because it’s only hiking… right? You aren’t mountaineering, you don’t need any ropes or technical equipment. Just your shoes (maybe), some water, a muesli bar, and a jacket if you’re so inclined. What could go wrong?

One only needs to look to Tasmania – dare I say our ‘premier’ mountain environment. You’re lying if you say otherwise, and that’s coming from a Victorian – it’s a bushwalkers paradise. That’s the image painted by tourism boards and social media too – a glorious, pristine landscape filled with jaw-dropping views and a walking experience different to anything in Australia. It’s an undeniably appealing proposition.

Mornings on Mount Anne, from a recent article by Zofia Zayons

Then, there’s reality: mountain ranges susceptible to incredibly unpredictable and violent weather, complex terrain, dense bushland, limited infrastructure – all of which are alien to most interstate visitors, and even many local Tasmanians. Environments with this degree of difficulty often require advanced bushwalking skills, physical fitness, and the mental grit and determination to persevere through conditions that are miserable and dangerous – traits that have fallen by the wayside in this modern age of hiking.

Step off the beaten track, and you’re in another world. When the sunshine turns to snow and sleet, you’ll have wished you thought more carefully about exactly what you were getting into.

To hike in an alpine environment, even in Australia, you have to account for more hazards, more complexities, and a higher degree of risk. It’s a contrast to how the area is portrayed in marketing and social media, creating an image that inexperienced walkers misjudge as reality.

What differs bushwalking and other mountain activities from traditional sport, is that there is no tournament, competition, or rulebook that prevents you from accessing the highest level of challenge; there’s nothing stopping you from choosing to hike the most difficult trail available to you, even when you aren’t at all prepared for it. 

When in highly consequential terrain such as Geeves Gully on Federation Peak, you need to ensure that you know your limitations

The challenges presented by nature are all surmountable, but only if you’re prepared to do so. Given recent events and my observations of the state of modern hiking culture, many people are not as prepared as they should be, and for reasons you mightn’t expect. 

There’s a disassociation between risk and hiking, and a disconnect between how inexperienced hikers perceive their environment and the reality.

What we’re witnessing is the failure to take personal responsibility, though I’m mostly concerned about the reasons why. You can only prepare for what you understand to be a hazard, so what’s influencing this supposed rise in bushwalking rescues and fatalities?

Over the coming months, in a series of articles, I’ll be discussing what I consider to be the factors contributing toward the erosion of our relationship with risk in the outdoors.

Are rescues really on the rise?

An obvious explanation for the increase in rescues would be an increase in people bushwalking. According to the Tasmanian Tourism Snapshot, taken each financial year, total visitation throughout both 2019 (pre-pandemic) and 2025 (post-pandemic) was roughly the same: 1.34 million.

Rescue statistics, while not a direct correlation, do show a rise in police search and rescue (SAR) operations. Importantly, these are overall SAR statistics and not solely for bushwalking, as they are the only statistics with some degree of comparison that I could collect.

Across 2018-2019, there were 250 police SAR operations as per Tasmanian Police Annual Reports. During the 2024/2025 season, this number increased to 771 total SAR incidents. Unfortunately there aren’t any available records specifically for bushwalking rescue incidents – I can’t help but think that these would be useful knowledge for the public. 

Tourism is a big business in Tasmania, with good reason | Photo supplied by Tourism Tasmania and Chris Crerar

Alas, we know that there were ‘at least 200 bushwalking related rescues’ that involved the police helicopter SAR crew in the 2024/2025 financial year. This doesn’t take into account rescues handled by other agencies, as well as incidents that didn’t require a helicopter.

Viewing these statistics against total tourism visitation per annual year – with 2018/2019 and 2024/2025 both being 1.34 million – if we take the 771 SAR operations from the 2024/2025 period and compare them to the 2018/2019 statistics (250), we can see that there is a 208.4% increase in overall SAR operations conducted by Tasmania Police.

Of equal importance, is the rise in bushwalking participation across Australia. According to Ausplay annual reports,1.3 million Australians completed at least one bushwalk within 2019, and 3.7 million did so in 2025, suggesting a 184.6% increase in bushwalking participation.

It’s obvious that many people are bushwalking, and this increase in participation tracks well against the increased number of SAR operations in Tasmania; in fact, the increase in hiking participation trails the increase in rescues by 23.8%.

With the viral interest in bushwalking post-pandemic, an increase in rescues is an expected outcome; possibly aided by other factors such as better mobile reception and access to rescue technology like PLBs or satellite communicators.

Read more: PLBs and Satellite Messengers – Everything You Need to Know About Off-Grid Safety

While not accessed via a long bushwalk, Lincoln’s Rock in the NSW Blue Mountains recently closed due to overwhelming tourist numbers | Photo by @theocrazzolara via Flickr

However, this view alone fails to explain the peculiar nature of the rescue incidents and the obvious patterns that are emerging – patterns that cannot be solely a result of more people hiking.

What we’re seeing, particularly in the latter half of 2025, is a continuing series of rescues due to the exact same reasons and under strikingly similar circumstances: failure to foresee and adequately prepare for (and successfully react to) adverse conditions in mountainous environments.

Additionally, the frequency has jumped significantly from the 2023/2024 period (446 total police SAR incidents), which also demonstrated a higher number of bushwalkers compared to pre-pandemic levels.

As the world of bushwalking morphs and evolves with modern times, it’s critical that solutions are brought forward in an attempt to address notable issues rather than write off all subsequent events as ‘just how it is’. What I’m particularly interested in is the reasons why these rescues are occurring, and importantly, why the measures in place to prevent such incidents are out of touch with the modern world of bushwalking.

Rather than submitting to the morbid explanation of ‘natural selection’, which I’ve seen thrown around online, I think we should appropriately discuss solutions. 

If more people are interested in becoming involved in bushwalking, the systems and influences that should guide and support new walkers are demonstrating specific flaws that cannot be excused solely through simple explanations.

Our approach to bushwalking education needs to change as more people seek scenes (and challenges) like this

The Emerging Trend

The 2025 bushwalking season in Tasmania kicked off with a number of rescues across the January holiday season, which is nothing out of the ordinary. Aside from a few particularly abnormal incidents (such as these hikers trying to downclimb the granite slabs of Freycinet National Park in running shoes), most rescues could be attributed to normal causes: health related issues, navigational challenges, falls etcetera. Any overall increase can be explained simply through the fact that more people were bushwalking – though the amount of incidents was certainly higher than usual.

Come May 2025  there was a continuation of this trend and the emergence of a notable pattern that leads into post-winter: a failure to bring essential equipment and the inability to appropriately react to poor weather conditions – both in terms of equipment and planning. On the 19th of May, a group in Mt Field National Park required assistance due to adverse weather – they didn’t have suitable equipment or ability. 

Mt Field is stunning but well-known for rapidly-changing weather | @headwerkn

On the 22nd of May, two bushwalkers were found stranded in the Savage River area without appropriate communication devices or suitable equipment. Only a day later, a tourist at Cradle Mountain was located after they became lost once their phone died – their only form of navigation. Everyone was luckily rescued and brought to safety.

Seemingly in response to these incidents, Tasmania Police released a statement in June urging bushwalkers to take the necessary precautions for winter walking throughout the state, claiming that the SAR helicopter crew had been called out to almost ‘200 missions’ in the 2024-25 year. 

During the true winter period there were notable incidents, but not a large quantity. This included a pair of bushwalkers who required rescue in Bluff River Gorge (16th of August) where according to Tasmania Police ‘they had around 15% mobile phone power… no appropriate navigational equipment and no additional light sources to illuminate the track to enable a safe exit’.

The Events of Spring 2025

Over the course of a month from the 26th of September to the 22nd of October, four bushwalkers across three separate incidents perished, likely due to severe weather conditions in alpine regions across Tasmania and Victoria.

Before these tragic events, early September saw a continuation of the trend of general unpreparedness and indifference to severe weather with three separate but similar incidents requiring helicopter rescue. Inspector Steve Jones of Tasmania Police said that ‘the bushwalkers were not suitably equipped for the weather conditions and were not carrying equipment to keep them safe’.

On the 26th of September, a group of tourists became overwhelmed by the onset of winter conditions at Cradle Mountain. They didn’t come prepared for cold weather and were unable to reach shelter. Of the group of three, one unfortunately didn’t survive the ordeal and succumbed to hypothermia – which very well could have been the fate of all three were it not for the valiant efforts of nearby bushwalkers, park rangers, and SES crew. 

Cradle Mountain is a popular and accessible tourist spot, often shown in gorgeous photographs, yet it’s just as susceptible to wild weather | @tim_ashelford

Just days later on the 1st of October, two more interstate bushwalkers activated their PLB after becoming overwhelmed by -6°C degree overnight temperatures near Cradle Mountain on the Overland Track. The pair were prepared in terms of equipment, but not for the severity of the conditions. 

Prolonged winter conditions weren’t isolated to Tasmania’s highlands, and on the 3rd of October the bodies of two international walkers were found atop Mount Bogong’s summit plateau in Victoria. Later reports confirmed that they had succumbed to hypothermia. The pair were merely four kilometres from Cleve Cole Hut where they could have sought desperate shelter.

Mount Bogong is well-frequented by hikers, but sees harsh alpine weather

Then, on the 11th of October Daryl Fong commenced a short day-walk to Tarn Shelf within Mount Field National Park. He was last heard from at 3:00am on the 12th of October, advising his housemate that he would seek shelter and stay in the park overnight due to the onset of severe weather. Rescue efforts over the subsequent days were hampered by knee-deep snow, blizzards, and high winds. Fong’s body was found on the 22nd of October, where no doubt he had succumbed to hypothermia.

Though Fong’s death was the last during this period that can be attributed to unpreparedness for harsh mountain conditions, subsequent incidents have continued with striking frequency and similarity. Widespread media attention and formal warnings across this period have failed to prompt any significant changes to how inexperienced bushwalkers are approaching alpine environments across Australia.

Is there anything more that can be done to rectify this? How many more warnings are necessary to convey the severity of alpine weather and the demands that it places on prospective walkers? Or is the failure to interpret these warnings an unsolvable issue? 

I believe that there are a number of different factors that have influenced how the modern bushwalker interacts with risk in the mountains, and specifically how these factors have fostered the perception that the mountains are a kind, hospitable environment that will accommodate for a lack of preparation.

The author Josh exploring Chockstone Gully

The Erosion of Our Relationship With Risk

When you choose to hike in an alpine environment, you’re accepting a heightened degree of risk that requires intricate and continuous management and assessment. 

Being prepared means that you’re capable of successfully reacting to any potential hazard that may arise throughout your journey. How you react and what measures you have in place are influenced by your prior experiences, mentorship, and other learning formats – if these are inadequate, your perceptions may not match reality.

When you lack experience, you need a substantial margin of safety – a safety net that gives you some assurance and protection against risk and the consequences of any misjudgement. 

‘You don’t know what you don’t know’ affects many new hikers, sometimes with disastrous consequences

Unfortunately, there are many factors at play that have eroded this: social media, brand imagery, international hiking trends, modern trail developments, the decline of clubs and mentorship opportunities, and the false security of modern hiking technology. 

These factors work to erode your safety net through changing your perceptions and lowering your guard against risk.There are other contributing factors, such as psychological aspects; like arrogance and the fear of missing out, but these factors aren’t recent phenomena.

The events of the last year have occurred due to modern, post-pandemic cultural influences, altering how inexperienced hikers approach risk, and more-so, how they are led to believe that they can get away with inadequate preparation in terms of fitness, equipment, experience, and judgement. 

All of the influences I’ve mentioned, to some extent, negatively change our perception of risk and affirm the poor decision-making that’s typical for someone with limited experience, fostering misguided confidence. The concept of ‘personal responsibility’ is subjective and judged against one’s own perceptions – that is why it’s an unreasonable explanation for what we’re witnessing. We can only act on what we know, and if what we’re taught or conclude is incorrect or misled, then our preparation will follow suit.

Postcard photographs can hide the realities and dangers of popular walks – this is Mount Barney, a Queensland mountain known for its rescues | @thetantrap

In most aspects of life, if your perceptions and preparations mismatch reality, death is an unlikely consequence – but this isn’t the case in the mountains, where one wrong decision can quickly spiral into many more that you may not be able to reverse, and you mightn’t even be aware of it.

Mountains – even those in Australia – present complexities that cannot be ignored or subdued by quick fixes or short-cuts such as those found throughout modern hiking culture. You have to face nature on its terms, not your own, and by avoiding this truth you’re building your hiking experience on a weak foundation – a foundation whose weakness is easily exploited by the likes of fickle mountain weather, navigational challenges, unexpected levels of fatigue, unplanned illness or injury, lack of adequate equipment, and limited physical/mental endurance.

Australia’s mountains aren’t huge, but they are serious and the narrative needs to change

Alpine hiking is a serious proposition, but one that’s also universally appealing, so appealing that those who are blatantly unprepared are willing to forgo safe practices and ignore all warnings: warnings that present a different reality to what modern hiking culture suggests.

Most media outlets have uncharacteristically touched on the subject with more detail than usual – which is no doubt useful in spreading awareness – but overall, the discussion leads to the same conclusions that should be familiar to most, and seemingly nothing since has changed.

I hope that the ensuing discussion can guide new hikers who might not understand the potential seriousness of their new hobby, and instill a greater appreciation for both the danger and the beauty of our wild places.

This is the first article in the Relationship with Risk series, in partnership with Better Hiking. Keep an eye out for future articles that dive trail development, modern technology, social media and ultralight trends, and true preparedness.