The track drops steeply down to the giant-sized stepping stones in the Snowy River and then like a pale brown snake, slithers up towards Mount Twynam and beyond. It's usually while soaking up this view that I slap an extra Band-Aid on my blistered heel and assess whether we have packed enough water - it's going to be another long day trekking above the tree line.

But it's also where we stop to check how much snow lingers from last winter - not entire mountain tops of the white stuff, rather those patches of snow that incongruously persist on the southern side of the range, even during - and sometimes after - the heat of mid-summer.

Some are the size of a football field, but most are much smaller. We even have nicknames for a couple. There's the "TARDIS", which my 13-year-old daughter Emily says "when you get up close to it, it's bigger than it looks". When in kindy, Emily also coined "Big Bird's Calling Card" - a white dollop that from afar resembles, well, you know what.

Apart from the occasional summer (like last year) when we've explored the high country soon after an unseasonal blizzard or two, we've noticed a gradual decline in both the number and size of these winter remnants.

Keen to discover more about these snow patches, I recently had a chat to Dr Brodie Verrall of Queensland's Griffith University. Now, I know what you're thinking. What would a sun-soaked banana-bender know about the "TARDIS" and "Big Bird's Calling Card"?

Turns out, quite a lot.

After falling in love with The Snowies after visiting as a teenager, Dr Verrall subsequently enjoyed several years snowboarding around the world. So it's not surprising that when he chose a PhD topic, he blended his passions of snowboarding and ecology to shine the spotlight on plant communities that call snow patches home.

"Ecology may not pay much but it does take you to some beautiful places," says Dr Verrall, who undertook extensive field work monitoring the sites high in Kosciuszko National Park over 15 years, focusing on snow patch plant communities.

"The plants that live beneath these snow patches are highly specialised as they experience only a few snow-free months to grow and reproduce," he says.

Due to the importance of cold temperatures and long-lasting snow cover for snow patch plants, they are considered among the most vulnerable to climate change. "These snow patch plant communities are also extremely rare, covering less than 0.0002 per cent of Australia, and are currently listed as endangered under the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN) criteria," explains Dr Verrall.

So, does Dr Verrall's research on these snow patches back up my casual observations about their diminishing size?

"Yes, it sure does," he reveals. "While the snow patches usually persist well into summer, we've seen a 30 per cent reduction in the area they cover in our 15 years of monitoring."

And what about the plants?

"The results of my research indicate that the frequency and dominance of specialised snow patch plants is changing," reveals Dr Verrall.

"They are slowly being replaced by plants, mainly grasses, from adjacent areas that don't have such persistent snow cover - ecologists call this species turnover.

"As snow cover declines and temperatures increase, the microclimate of that habitat changes and more competitive or common species are encroaching on that area."

Uncertainty remains about the future response of snow patch plant communities to increasing temperatures and growing seasons. "This will likely depend on a range of factors including the ability of snow patch specialists to adapt to climate change, which is yet to be investigated," explains Dr Verrall.

That said, one species, Gunn's Alpine Buttercup (Ranunculus gunnianus), a yellow flowering perennial alpine herb, completely vanished from Dr Verrall's monitoring plots. "Thankfully, it's still growing in other areas nearby, but it may well be the canary in the coalmine," he warns.

Dr Verrall draws comparisons between the species turnover in plant communities in snow patches to coral bleaching on the Great Barrier Reef.

MORE TIM THE YOWIE MAN:

"Not everyone understands the diversity of the reef, nor does everyone visit the reef, but most understand coral bleaching is bad," he explains. "What we are seeing in these snow patches is not as graphic but is certainly comparable in terms of the effects of climate change.

"Sure, the demise of our snow patches may not have huge direct economic ramifications, but there are social consequences with loss of identity and place."

That's definitely something the yowie clan can relate to. A summer holiday to The Snowies without seeing any patches of snow just wouldn't be the same.

In September 2023, the "Sphinx", historically the longest lasting snow patch in the UK, melted for only the 10th time since records began about 300 years ago, including the fifth time since 2017.

"To see the patch looking so small amongst the magnificent scenery that surrounds it was sad," reports Iain Cameron, Britain's foremost expert on snow patches, who clambered up to the patch - located in a sheltered area on Braeriach, Britain's third highest mountain (1296 metres) - just days before it vanished. "I will keep going back each year so long as I am able," reports Iain, who worries about the Sphinx's long-term future given recent trends.

Whenever the striking over\sized steel ball looms large on the side of Kosciuszko Road just south of Cooma, the Yowie clan knows a Snowy Mountains adventure isn't too far away.

It sends a wave of excitement through the Yowie-mobile like when you catch that first glimpse of the ocean when heading down the Clyde Mountain, or the sight of Black Mountain Tower on the western horizon when driving south along the Federal Highway, which signals that you are almost home.

Although it feels like it's been there for decades, the steel ball, officially known as "Snowy Sphere", was only erected in 2011, commissioned by the Snowy River Shire Council to welcome you to the shire. It certainly does that.

While my kids have always viewed the large sculpture as a giant snowball (just add the snow, they say!), there are many ways to interpret Snowy Sphere than first meets the eye.

The striking sculpture is primarily made from recycled steel beams originally used in the construction of the Skitube back in the 1980s which, according to Richard Moffatt, can "represent the ski runs, rivers and indigenous pathways of the Snowy Mountains".

Of course, art can be interpreted in many ways, and Richard also admits, "the sphere is abstract ... opening the sculpture up to many imaginative interpretations from the public".

So, although its spherical shape is designed "to reflect the striking boulder-strewn landscape of The Snowies", for my kids at least, it will always represent a giant snowball. Yes, even in summer.

Rating: Hard

Clue: Near a former tea house

How to enter: Email your guess along with your name and address to tym@iinet.net.au. The first correct email sent after 10am, Saturday January 27 wins a double pass to Dendy, the Home of Quality Cinema.

Last week: Congratulations to Anthony McDonald of Duffy who was the first correctly identify last week's photo as Ridgeline Park, Denman Prosect. A first-time winner, Anthony "recognised it straight away" as he often takes his grandkids to the little-known park. "Denman has some lovely art, not just at the park but spread around the suburb," he reports.

Four years after being razed in the Black Summer fires of 2019-20, the resurrection of Four Mile Hut near Kiandra is well underway.

"Many are looking forward to the completion of this hut," reports Matthew Higgins, good friend of this column and high-country historian. He says NPWS has "already undertaken excellent work with the fire rebuilds to date at Sawyers Hill, Delaneys and Vickerys [huts]".

"Looking at photos of the hut in 2011 (in snow) and 2017 not only reminds us of the original hut but of the bushfire's impact on the surrounding snowgum woodland," says Matthew. Indeed.