Mt Gingera is the ACT's second highest peak and probably one of the most recognisable. It's that flat topped mountain in the Brindabellas that can be seen from most parts of Canberra and is often snow-capped in winter. In fact, so prominent is Gingera in our urban landscape that my walking partner, Canberra historian and bushwalker Matthew Higgins, says he has heard people at the Mt Ainslie Lookout point to it in winter, gushing to friends with mistaken statements like, ''that's Mt Kosciuszko''.

It's not quite Mt Kossy, but at 1855m, it's only a few hundred metres lower and the view from its peak, arguably just as expansive.

It's a view that has been a long time coming for me. Back in 1992, I clambered up the steep flanks of Gingera with a group of fellow students from the ANU. The day began fine, but by midday we were enveloped in thick cloud and fog we could hardly see the person in front of us, let alone the views for which Gingera is so renowned.

So today, after finally returning some 20 years later, I'm in no rush to leave. Many bushwalkers like to have a brief stop at their destination, take a photo and then embark on the trek home. Not Matthew or me. No, we linger for the best part of an hour soaking up the view and sharing tales of the ACT high country. Matthew is a recognised authority on our high country, having scribed several books on the history of the mountains, including Skis on Brindabellas (Tabletop Press, 1994) and Rugged Beyond Imagination (National Museum of Australia Press, 2009).

Matthew has summited many of the peaks (even many of the unnamed ones) spread out below and beyond Gingera, so when he says, ''this is one of the best views in the Australian Alps,'' it's no exaggeration. This is a view fit for a king. I couldn't imagine a more grandiose place in the ACT to have lunch. You can have your seven course degustation sittings at revolving restaurants atop Black Mountain - give me this view atop Gingera and a Vegemite sandwich any day.

After lunch, we scramble down the rocks to explore the south-western side of the summit. Below the windswept and barren peak, it's like entering another world. We're greeted by a number of small rock shelters. I crawl into one, half filled by the roots of a mountain plum pine, which are curled up like a giant boa constrictor. This rare alpine conifer (Podocarpus lawrencei) has adapted to the harsh alpine environment by clinging to and taking the form of exposed granite boulders. This enables it to maximize the light and warmth available for growth during the snow free season. Who knows how old this specimen is. A plum pine near Mt Kosciuszko was found to be 170 years old but had a trunk diameter of only 6cm, much less than the girth of this tree trunk.

But it's not peculiar conifers that I am searching for. These dark, narrow crevices are the summer hang-out for millions of bogongs (Agrotis infusa) - those moths which created chaos in the light towers at the Sydney Olympics and which are often drawn by the bright lights of Parliament House.

Bogongs migrate from the plains of western NSW to the highest peaks in the mountains where they spend the hot summer months. Apparently, in good years, the moths are so densely packed in the crevices of some peaks, including Mt Gingera, where temperature and humidity are fairly constant, that they look like a layer of fungi.

It's not long before we find two tors leaning on each other. I squeeze in and flick my torch on. It's not a pretty site. Shredded wings, decaying heads and other parts of moths are strewn all over the cave floor.

I've heard reports that bats, pygmy possums, foxes, Australian ravens and currawongs sometimes feast on the bogongs. There is also a parasitic nematode (worm) which attacks adult moths in the caves. It's hard to tell what exactly happened here, but there's not one bogong alive.

Continuing our search, we crawl into another crevice. Sadly, more decaying bogong carcasses.With clouds gathering on the western horizon, we decide to call off my quest to find at least one live bogong. It'll give me an excuse to come back here again one day.

Before we descend, we wander over to the official summit of Gingera - a wooden pole on which is perched one very plump looking raven - possibly responsible for the bogong carnage in the caves below.Near the pole is a magically stunted snow gum, it's growth impeded by decades of exposure to the blizzards and other harsh weather conditions which can lash this peak at any time of the year. We take the obligatory photo at the twisted gum and then it is with a sense of regret that we leave the Gingera summit. Although we've only been atop for just over 90 minutes, for me it's been such a long wait to get back here, I don't really want to leave. I saviour the vista for one last time before starting the trek down hill.

On the descent, the constant pressure on my toes at the front of my boot brings on an impromptu attack of gout. Every step results in pain shooting through my big toe. However, each step, also brings a new vista, a new meadow of wildflowers or a new bird calling. Perfect antidotes for a boot full of inflamed toes.

I start to lag several hundred metres behind Matthew. This isn't only because of my gout-ridden foot, but also that ungenerous impulse you get when you want a place to yourself. We both enjoy our relative solitude in this mountain paradise. For me it's almost a spiritual experience. I suspect it might be similar for Matthew, who kindly waits for me where the summit tracks meets back with the fire trail. Near this junction, there's the welcome babbling of a mountain spring. It sounds like one of those mountain creeks, which features on those nature CDs you can buy, only this one is real. I challenge anyone who ventures here not to want to splash your face, and take a refreshing drink from its waters before trudging off on the long hike back along the fire trail to the carpark.

With stunning mountain scenery, a summit of stunted snow gums and a chance to see the summer hang-out for one of our best known migratory creatures, this has to be the ACT high country's premiere walk and one that every moderately fit Canberran should attempt at least once.In fact, I guarantee once you've summited Mt Gingera once, you'll be back. I just hope my next visit doesn't take another 20 years.

CONTACT TIM

Got a comment on today's stories or an unusual photo? Let me know: Email: timtheyowieman@bigpond.com or Twitter: @TimYowieor write to me c/o The Canberra Times, 9 Pirie Street, Fyshwick.