Check out this money saving tip (The Great North Walk)

  

The Great North Walk - Sydney to Newcastle
The Great North Walk – Sydney to Newcastle

If you ever harboured an inclination to walk from Sydney to Newcastle it is worth knowing that the price of a one-way rail ticket is $18, the journey takes approximately two hours and it is a pleasant trip.

On the other hand if you want to save the train fare and have around ten days to spare, then I thoroughly recommend you take The Great North Walk.

The Great North Walk was constructed as a celebration of Australia’s Bicentenary in 1988.

Brother-in-law, and fellow adventurer, Ray Tong, and I decided to save the train fare and walk.

The walk commences in Sydney’s Central Business District and the first couple of days are spent walking through the inner and outer northern suburbs of Sydney, mostly along bush tracks, before arriving at the Hawkesbury River.

Ray approaching the Hawkesbury River
Ray approaching the Hawkesbury River

There are two ways to get to the other side of the Hawkesbury. One is via a ferry to Patonga, and the second on a train. We elected to take the train, and its departure marked our moment of truth as we stood there, back-packs loaded with twenty kilograms of gear and water, another seven days ahead of us.

The train departs
The train departs

The half-way point of the walk was marked at the small locality of Yarramalong nestled in the Central Coast hinterland. And similar to previous this day it had its fair share of hills, gullies, and at times, open forestry trails.

Baz - one step at a time
Baz – one step at a time

We were greeted to the sleepy township by a scarecrow at almost every house, part of the area’s welcome to spring celebrations.

I’d venture to suggest that had we stood still many would have been forgiven for mistaking this couple of weary and dishevelled walkers as just another pair of scarecrows.

A couple of scarecrows
A couple of scarecrows

As we turned in for the night Ray suggested the next day was going to be a real slog and that we should get an early start. But when the alarm clock went off a two-thirty something in the morning I was left to ponder, half comatose, just how far this days walk was going to be if we had to rise so early.

It turns out the alarm clock in the next room, which was unoccupied, had been set for this time, and Ray was still blissfully asleep as I lay there listening to the mind-numbing sound for two hours leaving me an hour’s sleep before needing to rise and get underway on the day’s walk..

The walk took us along a quiet country road to Cedar Brush track head, the point from which we would launch our assault, and long climb, into the Watagan Mountains.

Ray crossing a foot bridge
Ray crossing a foot bridge

After six full days on the walk you would think the hills would come just a little easier, especially as our fitness levels were increasing each day. Our walk to Barraba Trig threw a number of hills and gullies at us, but it saved the best till last.  This was an hour and half’s walk up the side of a hill that got steeper with every step we took.

The Watagan Mountains is a beautiful place with many walking tracks and fire trails to be explored.

Overlooking the Hunter Valley
Overlooking the Hunter Valley

The view from our campsite was magnificent and took in parts of the Hunter Valley wine growing region.

The next day was spent wandering in quiet contemplation along shaded fire trails before arriving at Heaton’s Lookout, and a wonderful panorama of the hinterland through to the ocean.

We can see the finish - 50 kilometres away
We can see the finish – 50 kilometres away

From here we could even see our destination, a mere forty-five kilometres away.

However, before we could wind down for the day and relax at the cabins located at Heaton’s Gap we had to negotiate our way down a steep power line track. The bottom of the hill would signify a couple of things though, a refreshing shower, and importantly, we would be rid of some of the gear out of our back-packs as we were to be joined by Janet, my partner, and our son TomO that evening.

Heaton's Gap
Heaton’s Gap

In fact, we even had a visit from friends Michael and Emma, to see how we were going. The term ambulance chasing did come to mind briefly after all this was day eight. Michael had actually walked the same trek some months earlier and was well aware of how we might just be feeling right now, and the night quickly passed though with good company, ample food and plenty of good humour…

However, there is a downside to most things, and over dinner Michael casually mentioned that with the sign suggesting it was only forty-one kilometres to the Brewery Pub at Newcastle, yes the walk finishes at a pub, that we should give consideration to knocking it off tomorrow instead of over the planned two days.

There was an awkward, but silent moment, as Ray and I caught glances, and Michael with a hint of a wry smile on the corner of his mouth recognised the bombshell he had just dropped.

I thought, that confirms my thinking, and Ray had a look of disbelief and no doubt was hoping that I hadn’t actually heard what Michael had said.

But the penny had dropped!

The next day we were greeted to a lovely sunny spring day and with a hug and a kiss from Janet and TomO we headed off on what was to be our last day on the walk.

The Boys
The Boys

Oddly, there was no discussion of Michael’s suggestion; I didn’t want to raise it too early, and Ray surely didn’t want to remind me of what Michael had said. But like an irritating blister on the heel of your foot I raised it with Ray just as we walked into what was supposed to be our night’s rest spot at Warner’s Bay.

There was an animated discussion at that point.

But to his credit, Ray, a Kiwi, pushed through the pain of his blisters, egged on by my promise that I would have us sitting at the Brewery Pub downing a pint of lager as the sun set over Newcastle harbour.

Michael joined us at Burwood Beach and walked the final six kilometre’s to the centre of Newcastle where Janet, TomO, and Leah we waiting for us, with a pint of beer…

On the beach - almost at the finish
On the beach – almost at the finish

And was the nine day walk worth the saving of an $18 train fare – you bet it was!

And remember, if all else fails, just Like The Landy on Facebookremain out of control and see what develops…

No ordinary moments (Crikey – that’s for sure!)

Baz - Kayaking Terrigal Beach, Australia
Baz – Kayaking Terrigal Beach, Australia

There are no ordinary moments, no ordinary people, no ordinary lives.

That has to be my all-time favourite mantra that I like to chant to myself, it energisers my mind, body, and spirit whenever I do. 

Strewth, I’m probably sounding like one of those weirdos’, but in any case, as I headed to the shed for my first row since falling ill with a viral infection just over one week ago, that little ditty was revolving through my mind.

I didn’t push myself on the 10,000-metre row, preferring to simply let me body find and regulate its own pace.  Consequently, this wasn’t my fastest or strongest row, in fact it would more resemble something I would do as a warm-up, or warm-down.

Baz - Kayaking off Terrigal Beach, Australia
Baz – Kayaking off Terrigal Beach, Australia

But you know, it didn’t matter, this was one of my best rows ever, after all it signalled my body was getting stronger once again, back to normal.

And yes, as I headed back down to the usual spa bath and cold shower I had a beaming smile on my face.

Truly, even in the face of adversity, there are no ordinary moments, no ordinary people, no ordinary lives…

 Chant that mantra a few times to yourself today and you might find that the world takes on a whole new and wonderful dimension!

Crikey, I guarantee that strangers will smile at you, you’ll feel better inside, and you’ll feel empowered to tackle anything that life throws at you…

But of course, if all else fails, simply remain out of control and see what develops…

Baz - Out of control on the Waimak River, New Zealand
Baz – Out of control on the Waimak River, New Zealand

Crikey – check these guys out (Mother and Son dance)

Janet and TomO

Well it has been a day of rest just like the doctor has ordered which hasn’t been hard as I must say I still feel pretty lousy with this virus I have contracted.

 But one thing that has brightened my day has been seeing two wonderful people in my life, Janet, and TomO, off to the “Mother and Son” dance at Barker College, in Sydney’s northern suburbs, the school the little nipper goes to…

 What a lovely couple, hey?

Inspiration and Motivation (We all need it sometimes)

TomO – Freshly Pressed!

That is what I was thinking as I headed for the shed this morning for my daily row on a C2 rowing machine, it was 4.30am… 

Exercise is a daily habit for me and always includes rowing, possibly a 10 kilometre walk with a 30 kilo backpack, or some sort of strength training later in the evening.

My friends often comment how much I must like exercise and how easy it seems for me, and true, for the most part I do enjoy it, but as for it being easy, no way, I tell them it is no easier for me than it is for anyone else.

The key is, I tell them, you need to be motivated to do it.

The Shed

This morning as I made my way up the pathway to the shed  in the pre-dawn darkness, a time of day I usually revel in, I was searching for that motivation, something to inspire me, to push me towards my own goal of climbing big mountains…

As I wiped the sleep from my eyes, there it was, a vision of why I am doing this, my inspiration… 

Twelve years ago, TomO, our son, was born almost six weeks prematurely.

There wasn’t any medical problem for Janet, my partner, in fact everything progressed as normal, but seemingly the little bloke was ready to take on the world and he wasn’t going to wait a moment longer…

A large contingent of medical staff was assembled, ready to provide the life-support that might be needed, it was a humbling moment, but he announced his way into the world in the usual way and was strong enough to take his first breathe without the assistance of the gathered team.

Those first moments cradled in the security of his mother’s loving arms…

He spent three weeks in the intensive care unit of the hospital, growing stronger every day. This was his struggle, his challenge, and he met it head-on, unflinchingly…

 Yes, this was my inspiration, my motivation, the miracle of life, and the will to live…

Hey – Whatever Floats Your Boat (Just as long as you’re happy)

Concept2 Rowing Machine in “The Shed”

One way I keep fit and healthy is through rowing, something I do up in “The Shed” on my Concept2 rowing machine  most days.

Mind you, I would much rather be out on the water in one of my kayaks, which is a regular feature of our weekend when we aren’t Out and About in the mountains, but time constraints can make this more difficult during the week.

Baz on his Epic V10 – Narrabeen Lake, Sydney, Australia

And whilst it is a solitary pursuit in the predawn darkness up in the shed, I’m never alone when I row thanks to my fellow team-mates in our virtual rowing team.

I belong to a global team of about 80 rowers, a great bunch of people mostly based in North America and we go by the name of The Lun-atics

The team was set up many years ago by a group of NASA employees with the intention of collectively rowing to the moon and back. Yes that’s right something like 384,000 kilometres, or as those in the rowing community tend to express distance in metres, a whopping 384 billion metres.

Crikey, let’s just settle on – it’s a long way there and back.

Well that is something we achieved in 2011 and we are now on the return voyage back to earth!

As a matter of interest, over the past four years I have covered the equivalent distance from Sydney to New York on my rowing machine, some 16,000 kilometres of rowing!

Rowing in “The Shed”

Anyway, a couple of days ago I was having a chat with one of my rowing mates and it got around to best times rowed, typically over 10,000 metres, a distance I train for. The 10,000 metre distance requires a good balance between speed and endurance and my best time is just under 38 minutes.

Our inclination as mere human beings is to want to compare ourselves, to see how we shape up against our peers.  It might be in the gym, comparing how much you can lift versus someone else, or how fast you can cover 50 metres in the pool.

Weight Training – In “The Shed”

But I always question, is this the right comparison to make?

Sure, if you’re in a competition, where time taken or weight lifted, determines who wins the gong and who goes home empty handed, it is important. But for those of us who exercise mostly for health and fitness it is almost pointless, and might even be demotivating.

There will always be someone doing more, or going faster, depending on where you are and who you are with.

The true comparison is at what level you are pushing yourself and this might be measured by what zone you are training in determined by your heart-rate, or how much you are lifting versus your one-repetition maximum.

If you are training to the maximum of your ability, it doesn’t matter how fast, or how much, you are as equal to anyone else doing the same.

Anyone giving 100 percent is giving 100 percent, right?

Baz – Coast to Coast Adventure Race, New Zealand

Life is much the same, it doesn’t matter what you are doing that counts as much as whether you are getting satisfaction and happiness from it.

Strewth, my sister does quilting, and at the risk of upsetting all those quilters out there, all three of them, I don’t get it myself, but then she doesn’t quite understand the need for me to stand on top of big mountains. She’s not the only one mind you!

Mt Aspiring, Southern Alps, New Zealand

But you know what – we both love pursuing our individual interests and we’re equals because of the happiness it brings to our lives…

That is what truly counts, it isn’t the what, or how much – unless of course you’re going for gold, but that’s another story altogether – those Quilters’ are a competitive bunch!

Strewth – talk about an Angel (But Janet’s no wall flower)

Crikey I have spent a lot of time talking about what I’m doing and that audacious plan I have to climb big mountains. Often I am asked, what about Janet, what is she doing while you’re gallivanting around Out and About.

 And let me put this out there right upfront, didn’t TomO and I luck out with such a great mum, and wonderful partner!

Literally, she was the girl next door and that is how we came to meet, and boy, what an angel.

Strewth, you’d have to be to put up with the antics of two boys in one household who spend most of their waking hours egging each on!

Janet and one of her “boys”

Anyway, she isn’t the sort of person that will race across New Zealand in some adventure race, or for that matter, done a backpack and walk some ridiculous distance in 24 hours, just because you can. But she’ll be there to support you…

But she does like the finer things in life and has a wonderful family and circle of friends that she spends time with in between looking after her boys.

Sisters – Janet & Leah
Great Friends

And talk about looking after us, crikey, she has to be the best cook around, even Out and About in the bush.

But let me tell you, when it comes to having fun, Janet is no wall flower.  I mean, she’ll have no hesitation abseiling off a skyscraper in Sydney’s Central Business District, or hopping behind the controls of an aircraft.

Janet & Baz abseiling the AMP Building in Sydney

And speaking of aircraft, perhaps she hasn’t flown as much as myself, but strewth she’ll have no hesitation in putting on a parachute and beating you out the door of one!

Talk about if you can’t beat them, just join them, that is her mantra…

Janet – going crazy over Picton
Janet – upside down waving – she’s no wallflower

And without a doubt she is one of the most courageous people I have ever met; some of the things I do she worries about, but then she always sends me on my way with her blessing and support – that takes tremendous courage!

Yeah, talk about an angel; she’s one in a million, that’s for sure!

The special people in your life just go give them a big hug and tell them you love them…

And remember, if all else fails, just Like The Landy on Facebookremain out of control and see what develops…

Strewth – There goes a Walking Hat (In Australia’s Outback)

I was speaking with a good mate the other day and the discussion got around to the iconic Australian Hat, The Akubra, after TomO wandered past wearing his.

We had a bit of a chuckle because it brought back some funny moments we’ve had watching TomO wandering around under his Akubra in the Australian Outback.

The Akubra is a fur hat made in Australia for over 130 years.

To be worn with pride, worn like a favourite pair of jeans, until threadbare and falling off…

Anyway, TomO has had two Akubra’s in his 12 years, the first he received on his 2nd birthday, and more recently a couple of years back ahead of an outback trip we made.

Janet, my partner, also joined the discussion and we had a good laugh about the time he walked into the pub at Cameron’s Corner, which is out the back of whoop-whoop, and Adrian, the publican, simply quipped “strewth, there goes a walking hat.”

His hat was larger than him and took on a life all of its own…

As you’ll see, he’s a handsome little bloke.

In fact he’s already come to the notice of the daughter of one of our close friends and the feeling appears mutual. I saw a bit of a twinkle in his eye the other day when they were having a chat. This weekend a group of them are heading to the movies.

We speak fairly openly in our household so I asked him whether he liked her.

He said, “sort of…yes”

“And do you think she reckons you’re alright?” I asked…

“How couldn’t she like a good looking bloke like me Dad” he said, with a wink.

“Hell, Janet where did that come from” I whispered…

“No point whispering Baz” Janet mused, “You know perfectly well where it came from”…

Crikey, it seems only yesterday he was disappearing under his Akubra…

Anyway, I could rabbit on here about it for another few paragraphs,  but why don’t I just let the pictures do the talking…

TomO – The Walking Hat, a pictorial…!

Bushman’s Cuisine – A culinary experience (Under the Stars)

As Monday rolls around it is time to reflect on another great weekend in the mountains with family and friends. 

On Saturday morning we boarded The Landy and headed to Turon Gates, a rural property not too far from a great Australian wine growing region, Mudgee, to the west of Sydney.

It is a comfortable three-hour drive in the The Landy, which is no speed machine, especially when towing our T-Van, a specialist camper trailer designed for extreme travel.  This weekend it would not be put to its full potential, and with plenty of mountaineering and overseas travel over the next 12 months, it is unlikely to see the red bull-dust of the Australian Outback anytime soon.

We did pass some of my favourite climbing areas on the drive, but this weekend was about relaxing, eating, and eating, and relaxing, with Janet, TomO and family friends.

Crikey, did we eat or what?

And don’t you just love camp food prepared in a camp oven and dining under the stars beside a crackling camp fire…

Now I must say, Janet and I both love experiencing different foods from around the world, and enjoy a night dining out. But it is hard to beat cooking up and dining on some camp grub!

And no camping trip would be complete without Janet knocking out one of her (world famous) dampers.  Lavished with Golden Syrup, or Cocky’s Joy, as it is commonly referred to, it is simply the Bees Knees. From the time it is pulled from the camp oven, to the time when the last piece is devoured, you won’t hear a whisper from anyone, just the sounds of the Australian Bush punctuated by the groans of delight as the Golden Syrup trickles down your hand…

Joining us for the weekend  were our good friends The Todd’s;  Bob and Annette, and David and Stephen. They’re like family to us and we’ve been travelling this great country of ours with them for as long as we can remember. A work colleague of Bob’s also came along to experience the Australian Bush…

The Todd Boys, The Boys, as we affectionately know them, are like brothers’ to our son TomO, and talk about being as thick as thieves.

Apart from growing taller, The Boys and TomO haven’t changed much. Although, the conversation seems to have moved from toy cars and teddy bears to girls these days…

Bob and I go back a long way…I even got to spin a few tales about him in my role as “Best Man” on their wedding day.

Together, we’ve cut a path along the Kokoda Track in the wild jungles of Papua New Guinea and paddled the Papuan Coast extensively on our kayaks.

Strewth, we’ve even spent a great New Year’s Eve on the small island nation of Nauru, at the Nauru Phosphate Club, helping to de-stock the Nation’s supply of Foster’s Lager, but heck that is a yarn for another day, if I ever get around to remembering it.

I’m sure Bob was a pyromaniac in another life-time, but rest assured he can set the best camp-fires ever and then cook up a storm in his camp oven. The Todd’s feasted on roast lamb and vegetables, while we settled for a good old rump steak on the barbie.

Now I must do a couple of call-outs here.

I have been fortunate enough to have found a fantastic blog called Picture Real Food, by Marisa, which has some wonderful recipes.  This weekend I tried out her Bull’s Blood Mushrooms, and all I can say is if you are into mushrooms give this a go…and if you’re not into them still give it a go, because you’ll end up a convert!

The other call-out is to a mad-as-a-cut snake New Yorker who goes by the name of Icescreammama. Recently she had some really nice things to say about some Aussie bloke so I drank a toast to her on his behalf and the recent success she has had in a writing competition.

Geez, I actually had a couple of beers, a bit unusual for me ahead of my preparation for next year’s full-on mountaineering calendar.

Blow-me-down,  I thought people like Icescreammama only existed on those American sit-coms you see on the Telly, when it is working. But there she is, larger than life. Mind you, I’m betting she is one of those New Yorkers’ that drinks cor-fee instead of coffee.

And did I get around to mentioning one of my favourite parts of any camping trip.

 Brekkie!

And this is after we get our fill of vegemite on toast, after all it wouldn’t be Australian to leave it at home!

There is something that is good for the soul about a lazy start to the day, getting a fire going, and then throwing a couple of jaffle irons onto the coals with your favourite filling stuffed between two slices of bread!

Janet made up some savoury mince, and her jaffles were the ant’s pants; seriously to die for.

And no outing would be complete without someone falling into the water. Usually it is TomO, because he was a fish in a previous life, but this weekend it was my turn as I filled up the water bucket – it must have been those two beers I had the night before that gave me a wobbly boot.

Geez, you just gotta love getting “Out and About” –  bring on life!

And hey!… Don’t forget to Like The Landy on Facebook to catch up on more photos and happenings while he’s “Out and About”…

Besides with only 29 likes he’s starting to think he’s more “off” than an “Outback Dunny” in the mid-day sun!

 

 

Vegemite – The Yeast that bonds a Nation (An Aphrodisiac for the Soul)

 

Just for a change we aren’t heading to the mountains to climb this weekend, but we are packing “The Landy” and heading for some camping. In the mountains, of course…

 It is hard not to like the mountains at this time of year, well, at anytime for that matter, but there is something very renewing about being Out and About in Spring.

Okay, “The Landy” does have ropes stored inside it, just in case…

The Landy

Our destination is Turon Gates, situated not too far from the Mudgee wine producing region. An area that also has a history steeped in gold mining.

Turon Gates

There is a creek running through the property and as it is coming into yabbie season we are hoping to get a feast of these sweet crustaceans’ to eat. TomO, our son, is good at catching them, and I’m not too bad myself.

Although Janet, my wonderful partner, has  suggested she packs a leg of lamb that can be cooked up in the camp oven, just in case the boys’ fail to catch any there aren’t any around, and of course an adequate supply of the staple food of every Australian, a jar of Vegemite.

Now I know some of you are saying we’re a weird bunch for liking this savoury delight made from left-over brewers’ yeast.

But strewth, I could give you a hundred reasons why we are weird, but eating vegemite isn’t one of them…

Vegemite on toast. I have a larger version. I ...

Besides, you wouldn’t be a ridgy-didge Aussie if you didn’t smear your hot buttered toast with this delightful tar looking substance for brekkie each day.

And we’re not unique in having our own special breakfast…

I mean, it’s a bit like our good American friends and their door-nuts and cor-fee donuts and coffee, or the Poms and those bloody smelly kippers they throw down for brekkie, (no wonder they’ve got a chip on their shoulder) or for that matter, the Germans and their half-dozen steins of whatever beer they can get their hands-on.

Come to think of it, the way the Germans’ drink beer you’d think they be all over something that is made from brewers’ yeast…evidently not.

Seemingly, the good people at Kraft are yet to make an alcoholic version of vegemite (note to self).

Strike-a-light, if they did make an alcoholic version, the cops, never to miss an opportunity, would be down at the local child-care centre breath-testing any kid riding a tricycle. It’d be like a turkey shoot…couldn’t miss.

After all, every Australian kid grows up on vegemite; no wonder we’re such a rugged, sturdy bunch.

As an aside, research suggests that smearing vegemite on your face before going to bed does wonders for the complexion.

Granted, I did read that on the inside of a beer bottle top…but still, sounds plausible!

I mean, I read somewhere else, might have been an old copy of News of the World, that some people cake their faces in mud, and lie back with a couple of slices of cucumber covering their eyes. Pretty sure that isn’t happening in Australia, otherwise it would have shown up on that “weird list”.

But given I can be a little bit naughty am a research freak, the one time I smeared it onto Janet, she thought I was getting all weird in the struggling paddock.

You know, the bedroom!

Truly, I thought I’d try my luck wasn’t getting weird, and rest assured after I got the black yeast onto the new satin pillow cases there was no chance of that happening anyway…

Crikey, she was fuming.

“Fair crack of the whip” she screamed…

“Why did you go wasting the vegemite like that” …still yelling at me!

Anyway, I’ve sort of digressed a little bit and can’t even remember the point of this yarn I was spinning telling you…

So let’s just finish it off on this note, when in Rome, do as the Roman’s do.

When you foreign tourists that keep turning up, ringing our doorbell down in the customs hall of Sydney International Airport with the voracity of an Avon woman on uppers, get with the program, get adventurous, and get some of our vegemite into ya!

And don’t you worry, we’ll be sure to return the courtesy, especially when we visit Germany!

Good weekend to all….

A Charmed Life (Lobster for breakfast please) – now published in Bucket List Publications

You could be forgiven for thinking I’m living a charmed life at present. Currently I’m sitting in the wonderful setting of Yasawa Island, overlooking the beach, eating my way through a sumptuous breakfast of fresh tropical fruits and lobster omelette, under a balmy, but slightly overcast sky.

 The food at Yasawa has been fantastic! I’ve eaten far too much already…

And what a change that is to only one week ago when I was climbing in the Southern Alps of New Zealand’s south island. It was freezing cold at Pioneer Hut, even the thought of extracting yourself from a warm down-sleeping bag took some effort, and food was basic camp food.

Not that I’m complaining about that mind you, after all there is something very comforting about camp food, a warming tea, sweetened with sugar, before heading out onto the glacier.

My week of instruction under the guidance of Dean Staples, one of New Zealand’s most accomplished high altitude climbers was fantastic.  And with eight Everest summits to his credit it puts him in a very elite club, so I count myself very lucky to be able to tap into his knowledge.

After a gear check at Adventure Consultant’s Wanaka headquarters, the nerve centre for its climbing operations that span the seven continents, Dean and I headed for Foxtown on the west coast, a drive of around 3 hours that takes you over the top of New Zealand’s dividing range.

It was a great opportunity for me to hear about the climbing that Dean has done around the world. It also enabled me to discuss my climbing ambitions and what I was looking to achieve during the week ahead.

We spoke of Cho Oyu and Mount Everest in a way that there is no reason why either won’t be possible for me to achieve. Ambition, mental drive, fitness, and climbing skills can be achieved by those who desire it badly enough.

It is all up to the individual!

Originally we had planned to fly into Pioneer Hut by helicopter on the Saturday afternoon, but low cloud in the valley meant this would not be possible, so we stayed in one of the Alpine Association’s huts at Foxtown, or Fox, as it is known to the locals.

The Fox Glacier is the town’s drawcard and there are numerous helicopter companies offering flights over the glacier, which is situated very nearby.

We managed to fly into Pioneer Hut on the Sunday morning, along with Caroline from Adventure Consultants, who was taking a few days off from work to ski in the backcountry with her friend, Aviette.

The 15 minute helicopter ride straight up the glacier was spectacular, in fact it is hard to find the right adjective to best describe it, so I’ll leave it at spectacular!

I had to take a couple of deep breathes to take it all in as I stood there watching the helicopter depart, apart from the air being a little thinner, the scenery was simply breathtaking.  We wasted little time and headed out for some time on the snow, to give Dean a chance to assess where my skill levels stood in terms of glacier travel, cramponing, and ice-climbing.  We did a little of all these things, including climbing a small peak, before heading back to the hut in the freezing cold and deteriorating weather.

It was a great opportunity for me to test out some of my new gear and those thousand dollar boots…

It all worked perfectly and those boots were as warm as a piece of freshly popped toast!

The following day was snowing and visibility was severely limited so we spent the day doing some skill-based training in the hut. Dean literally had me hanging from the rafters, prussiking and doing self-rescues.

The rest of the day was spent in the warmth of my sleeping bag!

But we were rewarded with great weather on the Tuesday and with snow shoes strapped on we headed towards Grey’s Peak. Now I must say judging distances across the snow is perhaps a learned thing as it didn’t look that far away, but it still took a number of hours to get to the summit, and travel slowed as we made our way across the glacier.

Dean had to slow my pace from time to time as I was trying to push it too hard.  He was quick to point out that good mountaineering means travelling at a pace that you can go all day and the higher you go the harder it becomes, adjust your pace was his catch-cry, advice well heeded!

The hut was quite full on Tuesday night with a couple of other groups flying in and swelling the number to nine. But the atmosphere was fantastic as we had our evening meal, before settling into those warm down-sleeping bags for the night.

I would have loved to stay another night, but as I was leaving for Fiji in a couple of days I could not afford to be “snowed in” at the hut.  And the weather looked like it was deteriorating once again.

Note to self, next time you climb in New Zealand’s Alps do it just before heading back to work, that way you can happily be snowed in, on the boss’s time!

Wednesday morning we made our way down the glacier towards Chancellor Hut, a distance of about 8-kilometres, although distance is better measured in time.  Travel was slow initially as the snow was deeper and the slope made travel in snowshoes too difficult, especially with some ice in parts.

And how was that view!

We stopped on the glacier against the backdrop of Chancellor Dome. We were debating whether to climb it, which would take around 3-4 hours up and down, or find a suitable crevasse to do some ice climbing and rescue training.

We decided on ice climbing and rescue training, eventually finding the perfect spot for it.  I’m glad we elected to as it was a lot of fun. It did wonders for my confidence and helped build on my skill base.

Closer to Chancellor Hut travel became slower as the snow was much softer by now with the temperature rising as we descended in altitude. And despite still being near sub zero temperatures, travel across the glacier was hot and hard work, especially with a 25-kilogram pack on my back!

It was a wise move to choose to leave Pioneer Hut on the Wednesday as the cloud base was sitting not too far above Chancellor Hut on the Thursday morning, and around 8am we could hear the thump-thump sound of the helicopter making its way up the glacier towards us. Loading the helicopter with our gear probably took longer than the ride back down to Fox.

By mid-afternoon we had arrived back in Wanaka and after saying our good-byes I was on my way to Queenstown and an early Friday morning flight back to Australia.

And as I cleared customs, Janet and TomO were waiting eagerly, glad I had a great time, and wanting to know all the details…

It was a great week and one in which I can anchor my climbing ambitions to.

The feeling of standing on top of Grey’s Peak, a small peak by any standard, was one of great satisfaction and something that will remain with me forever, no matter where my climbing takes me…

Bucket List Publications

Lesley Carter.wordpress.com

“Bloody Drongo” (I’m safe – and so is Macci)

The Shed

Last night I headed to “The Shed” for a weight training session to round-off the rowing I did at silly o’clock that morning.

And I look forward to any training session in the early evening, when I can crank up the iPod and lose myself for a while.

 However, the session took a 180 degree turn-about just as I was putting the key in “The Shed” door, literally. Janet, my wonderful partner, took a call from a close girlfriend who lives nearby.

“Janet, Macci is stuck under the house and he can’t get out; the children are distressed, Macci’s distressed, I’m distressed – help!”

Our friend, we’ll just call her Kimbalee, was wondering whether to call the fire-brigade to come and do a rescue, but thought to ring for advice first and to see if I could help…

I was happy to help, after all Macci knew me, and, well, I could pretend I was a fiery as I sped towards her house in my fire-engine red Landrover Defender, aptly named, Red Rover”.

Red Rover

After all, firemen regularly do this sort of stuff, right?

 It was a win-win situation…this was gunna be fun!

Strewth, he was stuck all right.

I spent some time working out how I would navigate my way through and over the air-conditioning ducts and through the small openings in the brick work.

I mean, if Macci was having trouble how in hell would I get through, I thought…

There it was in my mind’s eye, a vision of the fierys’ turning up to rescue a Lagotto Romagnolo named Macci, and some yobbo pretending to be a fiery with a pretend fire truck parked out front…

The embarrassment of it all…

Crikey, Bluey and the boys down at the Rugby Club would have a field day with it.

I could just see it, everytime a fire-engine went past with sirens sounding they’d be joking it was on its way to “pick Baz up”.

Nah, there was no doubting, I couldn’t mess this rescue up, far too much at stake.

And then, of course, there was Macci to consider!

After crawling the length of the building, through small openings, over the house’s heating system, with little room to spare between the dusty ground and the floor above, I eventually found him.

 Hallelujah, I wouldn’t be a laughing stock down at the club after all Macci was safe!

My new found euphoria didn’t last long!

He just sits there and looks at me, just out of arm’s reach. 

His demeanor suggested he was concerned I’d also been caught out playing in this underground labyrinth, an underground cesspit that might end up being our final resting place; our tomb.

For crying out loud, didn’t the bloody drongo realise I was his salvation?

Okay, perhaps if I was a 15-kilogram something animal, being pursued by a 95-kilo something bigger animal, in a scene straight out of an Indiana Jones movie, I might also be just a little hesitant…

But strewth, I wasn’t in here chasing some rat that had long ago exited the building and was now feasting from the neighbour’s garbage bin.

 I was the pretend fiery rescuer here to save him…

They say dogs have good hearing, so I suspect he heard what I called him even if it was  under my breath!

After all, I was cautious to whisper the profanities that were spewing from my mouth as the children were following my progress standing on the floorboards just inches above my head…

 Macci learnt some new words last night, but hey, I think we forged a new bond.

 Well, that is what I thought anyway.

After much coaxing I got him through a small hole and pushed him in the direction he needed to go…

He sprinted out into the children’s anxious arms, reunited, safe, like the prodigal son coming home…

I spent another 10 minutes negotiating my way, torch fading, worrying how many funnel web spiders were within striking distance. We’re heading into their mating season and they’d be none-to-happy with this intrusion to their love-making…

 “G’day Macci” I said as I extracted myself from under the house, my best army fatigues covered in dust and dirt.

Stone the bloody crows…the little mongrel affectionate family pet just looks at me with disinterest.

Kind a like… “You again, I thought you were stuck somewhere under the house like me”

 “Glad your safe Macci” I thought. At least Bluey and the boys won’t have anything to hang-on me…well not on account of this occassion anyway.

By the time I got home I was amped up for my training session, even if it was a couple of hours later than planned. And those Bose speakers rang out Black Sabbath like there was no tomorrow!

 “Macci”, you owe me a beer – big time. And by-the-way, no offence intended mate, it was all said in the heat of the moment!

A Race that Stops a Nation (The Melbourne Cup)

The Melbourne Cup

Today we have running of the Melbourne Cup, a race that literally stops a Nation. Run since 1861, it takes place on the first Tuesday in November.

Twenty-four horses will be lining up to race the 3,200 metres at 3:00pm this afternoon in Australia and you will be flat out to find anyone that isn’t tuned in to the running of the “Cup” – the Nation will pause for those breathtaking few minutes, to cheer their horse down to the finish line.

The Fashion

And it isn’t all about the horses, there will be the fashion as well…

And just about anyone you speak to today will have a “tip” for the Melbourne Cup, so here’s mine, Maluckday, by half-a-head. Why, ’cause I reckon it is Ma-lucky-day, that’s how scientific a selection can be!

Good luck to all the punters!

We’ve been cloned – Cookie Cut-outs (Fair Dinkum)

Baz & Ray

One of the wonderful things about participating in outdoor activities with your mates, whether it is recreational or in competition, is the camaraderie it engenders. The struggle, the hardship, the good, and the bad, it is there to be shared, enjoyed as a team.

I am fortunate to have spent many years pursuing outdoor pursuits and activities with brother-in-law, Ray Tong.

Let’s just call him my partner in crime.

And just so there isn’t any misunderstanding, we aren’t fugitives from the law, it’s just a figurative saying us “down under” tend to use to describe a good mate…

Okay, Ray is a Kiwi, but hey, he’s still a good mate none-the-less…

Now we’ve participated in many things together, mostly recreational,  with a smattering of competitive events here and there.  And yes, there is always an underlying competitive streak between us, but that’s just good old fashioned Aussie versus Kiwi rivalry

You couldn’t expect anything less!

Ray overlooking Hunter Valley, Australia

Anyway, we tend to spend a lot of time out in the bush, walking and trekking and many of these have taken on mammoth proportions.  We’ve walked from Sydney to Newcastle together, bush-whacking it 240 kilometres through the “scrub” – mind you if you drive, it is only 140-kilometres along the freeway.

We’ve spent countless hours on the water together…

Baz & Ray, Terrigal Beach, Australia

I chased him from the West Coast of New Zealand to the East Coast, a journey that saw us cycling, running, and white-water kayaking the 240 kilometres over two-days.

We’ve run rapids in our kayaks together, and even struggled through the mud in Tough Mudder helping each other to the finish.

We’ve pursued paragliding and skydiving…

Baz and friends over Picton

And then there is the most dangerous of them all, the notorious Newcastle Bike Ride.

The “NBR” as it is known colloquially…

It isn’t for the faint-hearted.

This is an invitation only event open to those who can demonstrate superior time-trial qualities on a bike.

It covers a two kilometre sprint on a racing bike from Ray’s home in Newcastle to the Albion Hotel, followed by an endurance test of being able to drink at least half-a-dozen schooners of beer with lots of bellowing laughter, the city and back home.

The ride home is always used as a warm-down and should be done at a leisurely pace, unless of course you’ve stayed for one too many had a few flat tyres out on the road and your arrival is long overdue. In which case, the every man man for himself rule applies.

The Sprint

Many have tried, few ever rise to the occasion…

On the many trips to the pub time-trials we’ve done in Newcastle we’ve had plenty of time to solve the problems of the world.

 As one does!

Nothing is sacred, all topics covered.

Okay, we don’t touch Rugby ‘cause it always upsets the Kiwi’s when they lose the Bledisloe Cup, and there was one time when Ray wanted to discuss a problem he had after a “real” bike ride where we spent a long time in the saddle – haemorrhoids.

I told him I couldn’t touch that one and best to take it up with Leah, his partner, the sister of my partner, Janet.

Did I get that right?

 Confused myself there for a ‘sec.

What I tried to say is we married two sisters, Leah & Janet…The “Fawthrop Girls”.

Yes, “The Fawthrop Girls”…

So anyway, perched atop the bar-stools down at the fountain of all knowledge; The Albion Hotel, our bikes during these training sessions we’ve covered many time favoured topics.

Albion Hotel, Newcastle
The Boozer

On our last NBR only a week ago sometime back we started comparing notes on what we share in common.

As you could imagine there was plenty of back-slapping and congratulations going on as we reviewed the impressive list, after all we were on our 3rd 6th schooner of beer each…

  • Good looking – tick
  • A physique many would give a left-arm for – tick
  • Modest – TICK
  • Have a sister named Debbie – tick
  • Adventurous – tick
  • Competed in the Coast to Coast Race in New Zealand – tick
  • Kayakers – tick
  • Extreme endurance hikers and adventure racers– tick
  • Almost fallen off the same ledge on a mountain – tick (True story! Mt Tibrogargan in Queensland before we even met each other)
  • Climb Mountains – tick and half-tick (Ray was too traumatised to climb again sissy)
  • Both have flown under skydiving canopies – tick
  • We’re both cookie cut-outs – WHAT?

Strewth, we’ve been cloned, we chorused together in unison as we considered the similarities. 

Kneaded expertly and pressed with a cookie cutter; a cutter passed sister-to-sister, a cutter revered like one’s very first training bra.

Okay, yes, somehow I came out the better looking of the two of us, you know, a bit like pulling freshly baked cookies out of the oven, some are perfect, others possibly a little overdone and a touch rough around the edges...

Anyway here we were, seemingly virtual twins…

To be honest, I took some comfort in this as I was a little worried that Ray might have been thinking he should have married me given we had so much in common.

I mean, he gazed looked at me just a bit too longingly for my liking as we waited for our next beer to be poured. But I just put it down to the beer haze fogging his mind a tad…yeah, that’s what it was, a beer haze, yeah…

And as we rode sprinted home on our bikes, the wind gusting so hard that it’d blow your dog off its chain, the most favourite Fawthrop Family saying resonated loudly…

You don’t know how lucky you are!

Yep, there is no doubting it, we are both partnered to Angels, and we’ll put that to the top of the list,  for sure…

And while you’re here hang around and take a squiz at this You tube video…a little bit of that “cookie cut-out” adventure!

It is some footage of Ray flying a sky-diving canopy on the East-Coast of New Zealand in the early 1990s. It was quite out there at the time, for a Kiwi anyway!

And following is what us Aussies do, jump first, then fly…

Just pulling Ray’s leg…what they were doing was ground breaking at the time. He is wearing the white helmet!

Adventure, comes in many forms, and you’ve just gotta love it!

Strewth – I’m in strife (I think I’ve woken them up)

The Shed

Okay, so many of you will know that I am a self-confessed lover of the pre-dawn. At this time of the day I can usually be found up in the “shed” having a row to kick-start the day.

Or I might be doing a weight training session.

 Crikey, I just love standing at the door of the shed between sets of weights, looking up and gazing at the stars. Yes, for sure I’m a bit of a dreamer, and what better way to dream than looking out at the universe.

And while I’m on the universe, have you ever wondered where the centre of it is?

Well, I got to thinking as I looked at all the stars, no matter where they appeared, I was at the centre, all points back to me – pretty cool hey?

But maybe that’s a little deep for this time of the day.

I’ll be back in a sec, another set of squats to do.

Baz – squatting

 I’m back…

Sorry, that took a little longer as I needed to set-up for my next group of exercises, the bench press.

Baz – Bench Press

 Geez, where was I?

Oh yeah, right, speaking about being a little deep for this time of the day. I was flicking through my iPod thinking what should I listen to this morning?

By the way, did I tell you someone stole my iPod from Red Rover the other day? Okay it was parked out on the front driveway of the house, and yes it was unlocked, but crikey, thieving mongrels! Vent over…

Red Rover

 Anyway, back in a sec…

Pearl Jam, there it was, obvious, why not put on Pearl Jam’s “Ten”? One of my all-time favourites.

Don’t worry; I haven’t got it cranked up too loud. Well, just slightly louder than I should probably have it for this time of day. But, I think I’ll get away with it, after all, Theo, our good friend and next door neighbor is a touch deaf (I think), either that or he doesn’t mind the music I play, cause he never complains!

Another set to do, don’t go away…

As I was doing that set there was a clash of sounds happening. A guitar rift squealing out of my set of Bose speakers, a kookaburra heralding in the first rays of light on the eastern horizon, and the sound of half-a-dozen wines bottles being emptied into the garbage truck outside our house.

Today is rubbish bin day and they turn up at the crack of dawn. And by the way, I don’t drink wine (okay a glass here or there!) so hey, if Theo hates that sound on (every) a Thursday morning he can take it up with Janet, my lovely wife!

Janet - she's wonderful!

And speaking of the rubbish truck, and that Kookaburra (he’s still going), I couldn’t help but snicker smile at the thought of all those people rolling in their beds right now pulling that pillow over the head to drown out those sounds.

I have just tweaked up the sound on the iPod a smidgeon; after all at least there is a melody happening here…

 Garbage truck, Kookaburra, Pearl Jam?  Take your pick…

Best I move this yarn and training session along a touch here…

Strewth, a light has just come on in the house and there are signs of people stirring and it isn’t even 6am yet (unheard of in our place!).

Crikey, Janet is up, and looking just a tad unhappy. Mind you, she’s a pretty happy go lucky sort of person…usually!

Oops!

One of a couple of things happening here.

She’s been woken early by the sound of those wine bottles of hers Pearl Jam’s Ten cranking out on the iPod, it can’t be the Kookaburra even if they have a habit of waking you up because she loves wildlife, especially birds, or she’s found that new pair of mountaineering boots I bought.

Yes, another pair of mountaineering boots, but that story is best kept for another day ‘cause Janet usually reads my blog most days, and I don’t want to “dob” myself in yet, just in case it is just the sound of those wine… Pearl Jam that has woken her.

Okay, catch you lot later, I’ve gotta quickly finish this last set of weights, and go and jump in the hot tub make Janet a cup of tea, give her a kiss and tell her I love her…

But just quickly,

Wadda you reckon?

I’ve had a shot of caffeine, a dose of Pearl Jam’s Ten, and pumped a few ton of iron and it is only 6am in the morning.

 How do you think my day is going to go!

(Hint – Amped up!)

I’ll chat to you blokes and sheilas’ later…C-YA!

It’s a Cracka of a day dawning (Wouldn’t be dead for quids)

Baz power-lifting

Crikey, what a great day dawning over Sydney. The full moon is setting in the western sky as the first strands of light are appearing in the eastern sky, and the lorikeets are chirping already…

I’m up in the shed weight-lifting with the dogs keeping me company.

Strewth, I wouldn’t be dead for quids, that’s for sure!

What are you doing today?

Crikey – Wire me up and check if I have a heart (beat)

Recently I wrote about Acute Mountain Sickness and the effects it can have on the body as you gain altitude when climbing. As we all know the human body was never designed to function at extremely high altitudes and supplemental oxygen is usually required.

And although Mt Everest and other 8,000 metre peaks have been climbed many times without the assistance of supplemental oxygen, the occurrence is rare.

I am taking a number of steps to help prepare for the climbing I am doing over the coming year. I’m training intensely to ensure I am in a peak physical condition, eating a well-balanced diet, and another consideration is to ensure that I do not have any medical conditions that might create issues for myself or others.

Monitoring the latter is an important process.

Grey's Peak New Zealand
Grey’s Peak, New Zealand

I routinely see a Specialist Sports Doctor for ailments and issues associated with exercising. I just saw him a week ago to discuss my high altitude climbing and to obtain a referral to a cardiologist so I can undergo a full coronary check-up, which is something we discussed a few months back.

I don’t expect the tests to reveal anything adverse as all indications are I am in good shape and have no family history of coronary disease. Mind you, if they do produce a negative result at least I can deal with it now!

Friday this week is my appointment day.

Well, as it would turn out I have been suffering a low level cold for the past couple of weeks, you know the type, nothing too serious to cause concern, just enough to be irritating. Janet, my partner has been suffering a full-blown cold for the past few days, although she is recovering now, and TomO, our son has also had one.

On Tuesday this week I woke up feeling a little tight in the chest, wheezing, runny nose, and feeling a little short of breathe. I’m making it sound worse than it was, but I’m a mere male and you know what we are like when it comes to being sick!

And with some rock climbing coming up this weekend in the Blue Mountains, just to the west of Sydney, I wanted to ensure I nipped this in the bud before it got any worse. Later in the day I visited my local General Medical Practitioner in the hope he had some instant cure…

mountaineering
Rock-climbing, Blue Mountains

Crikey, didn’t I open a can of worms!

After describing my symptoms he immediately sent me for an ECG, chest x-ray, and a plethora of other tests, including cholesterol, blood sugar, prostate (phew, at least I got the pathological test) and a couple of others for good measure.

I did suggest that I would be having most of these tests this Friday, but he wouldn’t be swayed. Just as well as I didn’t hear any sirens at the time otherwise I would have been in a mild big panic thinking it was an ambulance coming to collect me!

And don’t get me wrong, better to be safe than sorry, after all he has my health at forefront of mind for sure.

So there I was, lying on the bed, I had more wires on me than you could poke a stick at, and everyone asking did I have any chest pains.

It was just a common cold surely and I just wanted something to make me feel better!

As an aside, when I arrived at the reception of the pathology company the nurse reviewed my requirements, but asked would I mind waiting while she finished ordering her stores for the week. I wasn’t sure whether she meant her groceries or something for the medical practice.

Either way I didn’t mind, it was just a common cold after all I reassured myself. Geez, my heart was starting to beat a little faster by now…

About 10 minutes later when we entered the ECG room she immediately asked whether I had any chest pains.

I just chuckled to myself and said,  “no”. Really I was glad she got her stores done!

Must be an insurance thingy, maybe the waiting room is still on my watch, not theirs? Cark it in the waiting room, well bad luck, but just don’t do it in the consultation room, that’s far too much paper work…

I’m pleased to say all the tests were normal and I still have my specialist appointment tomorrow which will include a stress-test. In fact, for the most part, the results are above average for my age…

But as I was having my ECG I got to thinking that many of us exercise for fitness, health, and general well-being and we assume that it goes a long way towards that goal.

I’m sure it does.

Rowing in the Shed
Baz on the C2 Rower

But equally, there is most likely a point where you can push the body too far, a point at which the exercise undertaken may become detrimental to your health…

I can’t imagine changing anything I do, despite that possibility as I enjoy pushing to the limits, but it is always something to be mindful of!

So how much is too much, what do you reckon?

The Landy – Packed ready for adventure

We just spent a wonderful weekend on the Central Tablelands area to the west of Sydney.  Turon Gates, a private property that is dotted with numerous cabins and cottages, and a wonderful camping area was our destination.

We were intending to do some climbing and abseiling in the Blue Mountains over the weekend however my climbing partner was unable to make it.

We hadn’t been to Turon Gates for quite some time, so after TomO, our son, finished his Saturday sport at school we headed off in The Landy with the T-Van in tow.

I’ve often been asked where The Landy name comes from, well it is a Landrover Defender that we have rebuilt for long-range touring in Australia. The T-Van is a rugged camper trailer designed for travel in extreme places, and it does live up to its claim, we can attest to that!

And The Landy is no speed machine, which suits us perfectly, so it was a slow drive up and over the mountains and towards the wine growing area of Mudgee.

TomO wasted little time becoming acquainted with a group of kids who were there for the weekend and played a game of cricket while Janet, my partner, and I set up our camp. Mind you, that is a fairly quick affair as the The Landy is always in touring mode with everything stored inside, including a inflatable boat with a mercury outboard motor, and the T-Van is ready to sleep in with little set-up required.

The Turon River meanders through the property and it wasn’t long before TomO was in the water beckoning me to join, which I did. It was refreshing to say the least.

Janet spent time sitting on the river bank watching and speaking with another group of campers who we joined for a few drinks and a camp fire later…

So, whilst we missed out on climbing we had a fantastic weekend out and about in the Landy, and climbing is on this coming weekend – for sure.

I stole someone’s dog (Yes someone’s pet!)

The other day I was relating a story about the early days of living with Janet, my partner, in a small cottage with two sofa chairs, one bed, and a Great Dane Dog. 

It was a lovely cottage set in a suburb not too far from the centre of Brisbane.

We loved that cottage, our first place together, which was nestled away in a small street, surrounded by plenty of greenery and flowering trees.

A real little love nest…

Pause…

Anyway, the subject line is true, but possibly I’m being a little harsh on myself, although Janet has just called out that I did kidnap the dog,

pure and simple Baz…”

But let me explain.

Firstly, I love Great Dane’s they are so majestic looking and all the ones I have met have been very well natured.  Mind you, a suburban back-yard is probably not big enough for them to run around in and perhaps the reason you don’t tend to see them in the city.

Back in those days we had little money to spare, not that we needed it, crikey, sitting in those two sofa chairs, gazing into each other’s eyes, before retiring to the only other piece of furniture we owned, the bed, popping jellybeans into that jar like rabbits on a mission…

Mind you, we’re still happy to do that these days, but a 12 year old son, who is on the cusp of puberty, usually walks in just at the inopportune time.

Pause…

So what about the dog…yes, the Great Dane, let’s call him Barney, because we never really got around to giving him a proper name.

We didn’t own any white goods back then, you know, a washing machine to clean our clothes, so this was done at the local shops where there was a Laundromat. Now I can say that is a place I haven’t been in a very long time, a Laundromat…

Every few days we’d make the trip together, happily sitting there watching the dryer spin around until it was time to head home and sit in the sofa chairs, well you know, until it was time to put another jelly bean in the jar retire again…

Anyway, on one particular evening Barney, the Great Dane turns up, he looked lost and was hanging around. And even if I say so myself he took an instant liking to me.

A Great Dane, my favourite!

It didn’t take long to convince myself that he was an orphan, after all he had no tag and he was rummaging around the bins seemingly looking for a feed.

September 1959 Ford Anglia 105E in Wales

So I quickly dashed home in Janet’s little Ford Anglia, a Harry Potter car, to get him a feed of mince. It didn’t take long, but by the time I returned Janet broke the news. He’d left.

“How could that happen” I asked?

This dog loved me.

Concerned for his well being I hopped in the little Ford Anglia and headed down the back streets to find him, to give Barney a good meal, to kidnap him, and a good home. After all he was neglected, clearly, surely?

My heart raced, there he was, looking forlorn, standing dejectedly outside a large home with a large wooden gate.

Yes, he recognised me.

Okay, in hindsight it might have been the mince I had in my hand that I was offering up, but strewth, I was as happy as a pig in shit mud.

Now this was the tricky bit, but I did get Barney inside that little Ford Anglia, eventually. It was a bit squashy, especially once Janet hopped in with a basket of clean washing.

We I was excited as a new dad bringing the family home for the very first time. And Barney settled in well, those first couple of nights he just sat back and lapped up all that attention. But geez, have you seen what these things can eat?

Bloody hell, this was at a time in our lives that we managed baked beans on toast every couple of days if we were frugal. We didn’t even have two brass razoo’s to rub together.  And a good night out was spent in the sofa chairs starring lovingly into each other’s eyes…

A few days later, as inevitable as the sun rising in the east, there it was, a lost notice in the window of the local shops.

“Much loved pet, a Great Dane, lost a few days ago in the local area. Brown in colour.”

Whoops, the description sounded just like Barney.

The person at the other end of the phone sounded  lovely, distraught, and anxious for any news.

She didn’t live too far away so we decided to walk Barney “home.”

And home was behind a large wooden gate, yep, the one in which I had coaxed Barney away from with my offering of mince only a few days earlier. His owner was elated, and Barney reunited himself in a scene reminiscent of Fred and Dino straight out of the Flinstones…

She couldn’t thanks us enough for looking after her best friend while we tried to track her down.

Gulp…

Yes, we loved Barney, and still think of him fondly, but I’m sure he would have sent us broke before heading back home.

Yep, I think he had us me sussed from the outset, live it up for a few days and then move back home!

Thanks Barney, we loved your visit…

 

Roll-over and give me a laugh (Eskimo Style)…

It was a weekend of birthday celebrations for Janet, my partner, with family and friends. Janet is a party type of girl and loved the attention and the Chanel perfume!

 And with near perfect weather in Sydney we also took the opportunity to be out on the kayaks at Narrabeen Lake on Saturday, and The Haven at Terrigal on Sunday.

My usual training partner, brother-in-law Ray Tong, and I have been practicing our Eskimo roll in his kayak, the same type of boat we used in this year’s Speight’s Coast-to-Coast adventure race across New Zealand. The race involves a 67-kilometre kayak leg, and includes around 35-kilometres of white water to be negotiated.

We both had an unintentional swim in the cold Waimakariri River during the race…

And whilst we are not intending to line up for next February’s event we are keeping our options open and want to perfect our technique before heading back down the Waimak River.

Did I say perfect?

We’d settle for being able to roll up a little more consistently without half-drowning each time!

Anyway, we have been having a lot of laughs as we go about this training, and hats off to Ray, he spun the boat around so fast at one stage that he went around twice, the look on his face was priceless and the source of much laughter.

We’re almost ready to hit Penrith white-water stadium once again. This is a purpose built white-water course covering around four-hundred metres of grade three rapids. It is fair to say both Ray and I have spent plenty of time upside down through the rapids on this course…

And while we were at The Haven, TomO, my son, was expertly catching waves on his rescue paddle board, in between riding his skateboard down “The Skillion” a large grassy slope that features prominently in the local landscape. Laying down on his skateboard he rode it down the hill like a Luge.

He had the Go-Pro camera on the helmet to capture his daredevil exploits and is already working on  a short video, coupled together with background music he has composed. We can’t wait to see the result as he was travelling quite fast and it looked fun!

Speaking of training, I’m back into the mountains this weekend to further my rock climbing and abseiling skills, along with general rope handling.  My intention over the next few weeks is to do multi-pitch abseils off Boar’s Head in the Blue Mountains.

Boar’s Head is one of the most recognisable rock formations in the Blue Mountains, situated not too far from downtown Katoomba. It is a popular place to do multi-pitch abseils and involves around five pitches, the second and third into a large chasm, with a relatively easy rock climb back out at the end.

Janet said she is looking forward to another weekend in the mountains and as much as she loves the outdoors and seeing me advance in my training, she can’t wait to get back into the small boutiques after all it has been a couple of months.

So I look forward to updating the ongoing saga of a “Dope on a Rope” over the coming weeks!


Spontaneity and Predictability (Which one are you?)

A couple of days ago I was walking along the back streets of the  suburb where I live, Pearl Jam blasting loudly through my iPod helping to take my mind off my trekking companion – a back-pack laden with a 30-kilogram sandbag. 

 The setting sun was cloaking the developing storm clouds with a rich, golden hue as it slipped towards the western horizon.

On the east coast of Australia we’ve just switched to daylight saving time, putting our clocks forward by one-hour. That means I can now exercise in the afternoon with some daylight, or at least a setting sun instead of the usual darkness.

But, as usual, I’m digressing…

Maybe it was the spontaneity or the predictability of the magnificent sunset, but I got around to thinking about spontaneity and predictability in life.

I asked myself which camp was I in, spontaneity or predictability?

 Or did I have a foot in both?

A bit like the sun, predictably it sets each day, but the spontaneity is in the way it happens…

I pondered that if we lived as we should, “in the moment we are in”, than life would always be  spontaneous. You’d never be planning for the future and you’d have no concern for what has come to pass.

Mind you that sounds great in principle. But whilst we do need to plan some things, life can still be spontaneous.

Surely?

Janet, my partner, has often told me that my spontaneity and good looks are traits she finds attractive. Frequently opining that it is exciting not knowing what journey we will take next as we walk arm-in-arm through life.

My parents loathe this spontaneity whenever they visit.

They both need to know what they’ll be having for breakfast in one week’s time, so spontaneity doesn’t work too well for them, predictability all the way. But each to their own I say, and that is fine!

But was there a bit of the “chip off the old block” in me?

Letting this musing go, my thoughts turned to Janet’s birthday which is coming up in a couple of days, this Saturday…

She loves birthdays!   

Well, you know what I’m mean, she loves celebrating her special day, the day she snared me, birthday cake, family and friends, maybe a present or two. And a bunch of flowers always brings a smile to her face…

And her birthday signals a very special day in our lives together. I proposed to Janet on her birthday in 1983, marrying some months later! 

We were living in a small cottage together, furnished with only one bed, two sofa chairs purchased  from an Op store, and a dog, a Great Dane I inadvertently kidnapped from outside its owners house (I’ll explain it some other time, but it did go on to live happily-ever-after with its true owner)…

The “proposal” was a very spontaneous event.

That morning, I got down on my knee at the end of the bed, dressed in Top Hat and Tails and asked her to marry me!

We had spoken of marriage but she didn’t see it coming this particular day, nor did I until a day or so before…

And on our wedding day Janet wore the Chanel Number 5 Perfume I bought that year for her birthday…

And every birthday since I have bought her a bottle of Chanel Number 5 and she has each and every one of the finished bottles secreted away in a special spot in her wardrobe.

She wouldn’t hear of any other present on her birthday…

Yes, as much as we both like spontaneity this is one thing we are both happy to say is totally predictable in our lives…

Happy birthday Sweetie…!

How good are these Fijian kids! (They’ll tug at your heart)

On our recent holiday in Fiji we were fortunate to have the opportunity to visit Bukama Village not far from where we were staying, Yasawa Island Resort.

The Resort is a good source of income for the village as it leases the land it is built on and many from the village are employed within the resort. 

On our arrival at the village we were greeted by the Chief’s representative and welcomed into the village, which is home to around 400 people.  The Chief was away on the mainland at the time on village business.

The highlight was a concert given by the local school children, it was hard not to be moved by their warm hearts and loud singing! And TomO, our son, presented a box of school books, colouring pens, and other school aids that he had purchased in Australia in anticipation of our village visit.

And TomO was invited back to the village the next day, Friday, to take part in the schools sport afternoon. A game of soccer with the village children. He loved it and said  it was one of the highlights for him on this trip to Fiji. And the village children welcomed him as one of their own…

I took some footage of the children singing, so please enjoy!

Put away the beer glasses (The holiday’s are over)

It is fair to say I have just had a great break by any measure. Climbing in New Zealand, holidaying on a South Pacific Island. Oh to be shipwrecked!

And the last few days have been spent kayaking with a bit of running thrown in for good measure.

 My usual exercise routine has been thrown out slightly, and exercise in Fiji was limited to walking to the dining area, and cocktail hour! And we loved it…for a change. I sat back and relaxed in Fiji, on that near deserted island, and must say I have enjoyed a few beers here and there. Okay most days since Fiji!

But the whistle has been blown and it is time to knuckle back down into training for my next climbing expedition to New Zealand in January. I have a good feel for what I need to focus on over the next three months and with summer time and longer days ahead I’m looking forward to the challenge.

Mt Aspiring, Southern Alps, New Zealand

Lots of high intensity cardio, and hill climbs with a 30-kilogram backpack.  And the kettle bells will get a solid workout along with the C2 rowing machine.  I’ve just finished a 10,000-metre row and must say it was refreshing after a three-week hiatus!

And January seems a long way off, but the weeks will speed by and Mt Aspiring beckons!

Cheers, Um with a mineral water today!

A Kayaking encounter with a Crocodile – (I survived the deadly Puk-Puk)

It isn’t too often that you get to have one up on a crocodile and live to recount the experience, let’s face it, they are one of nature’s most efficient hunters.

And it will always be the one that you didn’t see that will get you…

 A few years ago, Janet, my partner, and I lived in Papua New Guinea, an independent Nation just to the north of Australia. During our time there we tried to experience much that the country has to offer, and we travelled as much as we could.

Each day I paddled the coastline on my surf ski, a sit-on-top kayak measuring around 6 metres in length.  At the time there were no other craft like mine in this area, if not the country, and it always caught the interest of the villagers’. It was sleek and glided effortlessly through the water…

There was much to explore and the local villages I passed were always friendly and welcoming.

The tropical waters of the Papuan Coast are full of marine life, large stingrays, and majestic turtles, some of the most colourful reef fish you will ever see and of course sharks of many varieties.

I’m pleased to be able to say that the most common sharks I encountered where the black tip reef sharks which are mostly harmless if left alone. And I was often told they are well fed… Just on what and how often seemingly was an unanswered question.

Of course, the tropical waters are also home to the more menacing and much larger tiger shark.

From a hill top vantage point near Port Moresby, the capital city, I once observed the largest tiger shark I have ever seen.

It was following a pod of dolphins heading towards Local Island, which is situated about 3-kilometres offshore from the local beach, Ela beach.

We lived within a stone’s throw of this beach and it was a paddle I did regularly and after this encounter I was left wondering how many times I may have been stalked as I crossed to the island.

Papua New Guinea is also home to the saltwater crocodile, or Puk-Puk as it is known in the local language. I was always alert for the possibility of one of these creatures being present in the waterways I paddled. Realistically, I’m not sure what I would have done if I encountered one, and it is unlikely there would ever have been any forewarning before encountering the “death roll”.

The sight of local villagers’ fishing in the water from the shore was always a comforting sign, as they are also alert for the Puk-Puk’s presence. And normally there are telltale signs they may be present.

Recently, a friend and I were discussing paddling in Papua New Guinea and an encounter I did have with one of these creatures.

It was in the mountains about 40 kilometres from Port Moresby at a place not to far from the start of the Kokoda Trail, a place immortalised in Australian Military history.

I had decided to take my kayak into the mountains for a paddle down one of the rivers just for a change to the coastal paddling I was more accustomed to. During a two-hour paddle I was rewarded with magnificent scenery and a couple of friendly villages along the way.

I had Janet drop me off and I was to meet her at the Kokoda Trail Motel, a small pub, after negotiating my way along the river. I was a little nervous at first and any bump underneath the kayak left me wondering if these were to be my final moments before the jaws of one of these pre-historic creatures crushed the kayak, or worse!

There was an element of excitement about it…

As I made my way with the flow of the river I was observing the muddy banks for any telltale signs of a slide. Places where a crocodile may have slipped into the water from its resting point.

Crikey, in an instant my heart skipped a beat…

There was no doubting what I saw heading my way.

Isn’t it funny how sometimes every thing around you can go into slow motion?

Strewth, this was a moment suspended in time.

Was it to be my one and only encounter with a crocodile?

The final scorecard reading, Puk-Puk, one; Baz, nil…

I’m pleased to say it wasn’t…

Upon sighting my arrival on the banks of the river beside the motel, Janet ordered me a Puk-Puk steak for lunch and it was heading my way, suitably seasoned, and on a plate…

And to this day, the sight of Janet always makes my heart skip a beat!

I had many more visits to the mountains where I enjoyed a paddle, a Puk-Puk steak, and a couple of ice-cold beers with Janet…

And if you have never tried Puk-Puk, do yourself a favour, it is delicious; just make sure it is on a plate…

Here’s a recipe, just in case you’re tempted…

Strewth mate, give me a break (I’m still on holidays)

Australia is renown for its large variety of fresh seafood and Sydney has a great seafood market not too far from the city centre were you can purchase almost anything that tickles your fancy…

 As I am still on holidays, and with my sister currently visiting us for a few days, I took the opportunity to pop down and check out what was on offer.

I wasn’t disappointed, settling on blue swimmer crabs, a small crustacean with a sweet meat that are delicious to eat.

Janet, my partner, found a great recipe, Blue Swimmer Crab and Black Pepper, which we prepared over a few ales and a couple of wines. A lovely Gewurztraminer from the Marlborough region of New Zealand. Fitting as I was climbing in New Zealand’s south island only a couple of weeks ago.

And just as I was relaxing into my third, or was it my fourth bottle of Stone Wood, a boutique ale from the Byron Bay region of New South Wales, the phone rang.

Yep, caught in the act!

It was my brother-in-law and usual partner in crime for all kinds of activities that usually involves some form of strenuous exercise. And occasionally our infamous bike ride.

Infamous only because it is a one kilometre ride along a pathway to Newcastle‘s Albion Pub, not that we do it too often…but I’m digressing!

He was on to me, my animated state was a dead give-away, after all I had a few of these wonderful beers under my belt by now. I just knew he would be suggesting some sort of exercise, and he would now make it harder knowing I was having a couple of beers!

He did just that, bloody Kiwi’s are like that…

Ray, and his partner Leah, Janet’s sister, live with their son, Aubrey, in Newcastle, a city about two hours drive to the north of Sydney. And we visit regularly to kayak, swim, and train along the beach, or in the mountains to the west.

“Baz, see you tomorrow afternoon for a run up Heaton’s Gap”.

There was a snicker in his voice and little doubt he was going to make me earn the beers I was enjoying.  You’d think he’d be over that 20 kilometre walk that I turned into a 40 kilometre walk, but that was some time ago. Clearly he is still traumatised by it.

Heaton’s Gap is a favourite training area for us and involves a fairly steep climb up the side of a hill along a power line track, followed by a run back down as fast as we can travel.

I was praying that we would only do “one lap” as I was feeling some effect from the wonderful meal of blue swimmer crabs and the beers and wine from the previous night!

Phew, one lap only…

 He does have a heart after all.

Or so I thought!

Over dinner last night he casually mentions that I should be up and ready at 6am this morning for a 10 kilometre run down along Newcastle’s picturesque harbour foreshore…

Strewth mate, I’m thinking to myself, I’m still on holidays, but dutifully I was at the front gate ready to go at the appointed time. And I must say we put on a cracking pace, in fact we were both surprised at our time, especially after Heaton’s Gap yesterday afternoon.

 Perhaps I should get into this holiday mode a little more often, mind you I’m heading for the day-bed right now for a snooze, he’s just told me we are kayaking the harbour this afternoon – thanks mate!

A Helicopter Ride – Fox Glacier (New Zealand)

The Fox Glacier, situated on the West Coast of New Zealand’s South Island is spectacular and especially so when viewed from the air.

On my recent climbing trip to this region we were ‘choppered into Pioneer Hut high up on the glacier.

 The Glacier, situated close to Fox town, or Fox as it is know to locals, is one of the most accessible glaciers in the world and the terminal face can be accessed with relative ease.

The helicopter trip to Pioneer Hut takes around 15 minutes and you travel approximately 15 kilometres to the top of the glacier, climbing from sea level to around 8,000 feet.

A number of helicopter companies operate from the township taking tourists on a short ride to view the glacier and if you ever get the chance be sure to take a ride…

 In the meantime, strap yourself in and join me on the ride to Pioneer Hut…

Dolphins at Play – Wananavu (Fantastic!)

Our visit to Blue Lagoon Caves on Yasawa Island, Fiji, was rewarded with an encounter with a large pod of dolphins.

It is hard not to marvel at these wonderful sea creatures.

We spent time just drifting, watching them frolic and dive around the front of the boat. One was even doing large jumps out of the water, spinning in the air, before diving back in to the water.

Crikey, you couldn’t pay enough money to see such a show.

The Caves, the setting for the 1980’s movie, Blue Lagoon, were spectacular; we swam inside the outer cave, before diving underwater to access the inner cave.  It was quite dark inside the second cave, but equally as spectacular.

And if you are ever going to be shipwrecked in the South Pacific, this is the place for it too happen.

Anyway, why don’t you just jump in the boat with me and take a short ride to check it out and watch the dolphins play…and check out that sunset!

A Charmed Life (Lobster for breakfast please)

You could be forgiven for thinking I’m living a charmed life at present. Currently I’m sitting in the wonderful setting of Yasawa Island, overlooking the beach, eating my way through a sumptuous breakfast of fresh tropical fruits and lobster omelette, under a balmy, but slightly overcast sky.

 The food at Yasawa has been fantastic! I’ve eaten far too much already…

And what a change that is to only one week ago when I was climbing in the Southern Alps of New Zealand’s south island. It was freezing cold at Pioneer Hut, even the thought of extracting yourself from a warm down-sleeping bag took some effort, and food was basic camp food.

Not that I’m complaining about that mind you, after all there is something very comforting about camp food, a warming tea, sweetened with sugar, before heading out onto the glacier.

My week of instruction under the guidance of Dean Staples, one of New Zealand’s most accomplished high altitude climbers was fantastic.  And with eight Everest summits to his credit it puts him in a very elite club, so I count myself very lucky to be able to tap into his knowledge.

After a gear check at Adventure Consultant’s Wanaka headquarters, the nerve centre for its climbing operations that span the seven continents, Dean and I headed for Foxtown on the west coast, a drive of around 3 hours that takes you over the top of New Zealand’s dividing range.

It was a great opportunity for me to hear about the climbing that Dean has done around the world. It also enabled me to discuss my climbing ambitions and what I was looking to achieve during the week ahead.

We spoke of Cho Oyu and Mount Everest in a way that there is no reason why either won’t be possible for me to achieve. Ambition, mental drive, fitness, and climbing skills can be achieved by those who desire it badly enough.

It is all up to the individual!

Originally we had planned to fly into Pioneer Hut by helicopter on the Saturday afternoon, but low cloud in the valley meant this would not be possible, so we stayed in one of the Alpine Association’s huts at Foxtown, or Fox, as it is known to the locals.

The Fox Glacier is the town’s drawcard and there are numerous helicopter companies offering flights over the glacier, which is situated very nearby.

We managed to fly into Pioneer Hut on the Sunday morning, along with Caroline from Adventure Consultants, who was taking a few days off from work to ski in the backcountry with her friend, Aviette.

The 15 minute helicopter ride straight up the glacier was spectacular, in fact it is hard to find the right adjective to best describe it, so I’ll leave it at spectacular!

I had to take a couple of deep breathes to take it all in as I stood there watching the helicopter depart, apart from the air being a little thinner, the scenery was simply breathtaking.  We wasted little time and headed out for some time on the snow, to give Dean a chance to assess where my skill levels stood in terms of glacier travel, cramponing, and ice-climbing.  We did a little of all these things, including climbing a small peak, before heading back to the hut in the freezing cold and deteriorating weather.

It was a great opportunity for me to test out some of my new gear and those thousand dollar boots…

It all worked perfectly and those boots were as warm as a piece of freshly popped toast!

The following day was snowing and visibility was severely limited so we spent the day doing some skill-based training in the hut. Dean literally had me hanging from the rafters, prussiking and doing self-rescues.

The rest of the day was spent in the warmth of my sleeping bag!

But we were rewarded with great weather on the Tuesday and with snow shoes strapped on we headed towards Grey’s Peak. Now I must say judging distances across the snow is perhaps a learned thing as it didn’t look that far away, but it still took a number of hours to get to the summit, and travel slowed as we made our way across the glacier.

Dean had to slow my pace from time to time as I was trying to push it too hard.  He was quick to point out that good mountaineering means travelling at a pace that you can go all day and the higher you go the harder it becomes, adjust your pace was his catch-cry, advice well heeded!

The hut was quite full on Tuesday night with a couple of other groups flying in and swelling the number to nine. But the atmosphere was fantastic as we had our evening meal, before settling into those warm down-sleeping bags for the night.

I would have loved to stay another night, but as I was leaving for Fiji in a couple of days I could not afford to be “snowed in” at the hut.  And the weather looked like it was deteriorating once again.

Note to self, next time you climb in New Zealand’s Alps do it just before heading back to work, that way you can happily be snowed in, on the boss’s time!

Wednesday morning we made our way down the glacier towards Chancellor Hut, a distance of about 8-kilometres, although distance is better measured in time.  Travel was slow initially as the snow was deeper and the slope made travel in snowshoes too difficult, especially with some ice in parts.

And how was that view!

We stopped on the glacier against the backdrop of Chancellor Dome. We were debating whether to climb it, which would take around 3-4 hours up and down, or find a suitable crevasse to do some ice climbing and rescue training.

We decided on ice climbing and rescue training, eventually finding the perfect spot for it.  I’m glad we elected to as it was a lot of fun. It did wonders for my confidence and helped build on my skill base.

Closer to Chancellor Hut travel became slower as the snow was much softer by now with the temperature rising as we descended in altitude. And despite still being near sub zero temperatures, travel across the glacier was hot and hard work, especially with a 25-kilogram pack on my back!

It was a wise move to choose to leave Pioneer Hut on the Wednesday as the cloud base was sitting not too far above Chancellor Hut on the Thursday morning, and around 8am we could hear the thump-thump sound of the helicopter making its way up the glacier towards us. Loading the helicopter with our gear probably took longer than the ride back down to Fox.

By mid-afternoon we had arrived back in Wanaka and after saying our good-byes I was on my way to Queenstown and an early Friday morning flight back to Australia.

And as I cleared customs, Janet and TomO were waiting eagerly, glad I had a great time, and wanting to know all the details…

It was a great week and one in which I can anchor my climbing ambitions to.

The feeling of standing on top of Grey’s Peak, a small peak by any standard, was one of great satisfaction and something that will remain with me forever, no matter where my climbing takes me…

Sa yawa (Awesome)

Awesome is a word I love to use regularly, in fact I try to use it each and every day. Even better if you can express it in someone else’s language and as we are currently in Fiji I am going to use the local translation, which is sa yawa, pronounced sah-yah-wah.

 Those who have visited Fiji will understand how easy it is to use the expression sa yawa. The Fijian people are awesome, their friendly smiling faces warming your heart from the inside and wherever you travel you’ll be greeted with Bula and a big smile…

 The coastline and beaches are inviting.

Today we took a 45-minute boat ride along the coast to the Blue Lagoon Caves. These are limestone caves made famous in the 1980’s movie, Blue Lagoon, starring Brooke Shields and Christopher Atkins. But putting aside the movie, the caves, one of which you need to dive underwater to access, are absolutely spectacular, dare I say sa yawa!

Our guide swam ahead and lit up the cave with a torch and as we followed we were struck by the cave’s beauty. Swimming in a cave was a first for Janet, TomO, and myself, and many of the others who had joined us today.

The boat ride along the coast was just as rewarding, and we were lucky to encounter a large pod of dolphins that swam around the boat, performing amazing jumps up out of the water.

The food has also been sa yawa. We’ve enjoyed a traditional Fijian Lovo, where the food is prepared in a pit over hot coals and we feasted on various meats, including freshly caught lobster from the surrounding area.

And while we waited for the Lovo to be ready local villagers performed traditional dances.

Crikey, it would be easy to write much more, but why don’t I just let the photos do the talking…

Sa yawa.

The Good Old Aussie Dunny

The Australian Dunny is kinda legendary. An icon standing tall in the backyard, proudly. A place of contemplation, a place where you can hold court and solve the problems of the world, maybe even escape the mundane.

 There’s the smell of sawdust scintillating your nostrils as you check to make sure there are no redback spiders hiding under the seat, lest you get a painful bite on the bum.

And for sure they’ll be a copy of last weeks Sunday paper to read and if you’re lucky maybe even a ten year old copy of Reader’s Digest, if you didn’t bring your own reading material. Crikey, you might even hear a gecko calling its mate and they’ll be a couple of hens scratching around the back, cackling as you go about your business. There’s something comforting about that. And fair dinkum, the flies, you can bet there’ll be a couple of thousand of those things buzzing in unison, hanging around like a morning fart under the sheets.  And don’t tell your Aunt, but if Uncle Ted’s been up there before you, he’s bound to have forgotten his copy of last month’s Playboy magazine, but mum’s the word. Let’s face it, no one’s goin’ to admit to it, but we’ve all been curious enough to have a bit of a squiz at it while sitting around on the throne… And at the risk of getting a little off track, have you ever-watched one of those American sitcoms? I do, occasionally.  Everyone must be constipated or something ‘cause you never see anyone going about their daily business. And I don’t mean we need a full account, but when was the last time you saw someone head for the dunny in one of those shows? Has anyone else ever noticed that, or is it just me? But I’m digressing yet again… Anyway, there is a reason to this talk about outback dunnies. You see when I was climbing in New Zealand last week we had an outdoor dunny up at Pioneer Hut on the Fox Glacier and it was situated right on the edge of a cliff… Seriously, it looked like one of those old-fashioned phone boxes. A ridgey didge example of the sort that Doctor Who hangs out in. It even had a view out over the glacier, nice one I must say, if you were lingering, but crikey this was the coldest place on earth and the term brass monkey’s comes to mind. The only thing worth contemplating was getting out of there as fast as you could and back to the warmth of the hut. And there was little chance that a red back would be biting you on the bum, the little blighters would be frozen to death before they could get their fangs into ya butt. Strewth, it was so cold I didn’t even bother checking for them… But here’s the thing… Last time I headed for the outdoor dunny I reckon I had a pair of thongs on and the most dangerous thing I had to contend with was a bit of chicken poo on the ground, or maybe a dunny door that swung open at the most inopportune time. They seem to have a habit of swinging open just as you stand-up with your pants still around ya ankles… Geez, up on that glacier as I tripped down to Doctor Who’s pill box I had to wear my $1,000 buck pair of boots and even then I thought I was going to slide over the edge and into oblivion… For crying out loud, every time I stepped foot on that glacier I was tied into my climbing partner with 60 metres of rope and a dozen different knots. And that was in broad daylight. But here I was heading down that icy track to the dunny in the middle of the night, possibly never to be seen again, while everyone was tucked-up in a down-sleeping bag snoring away in la la land… Did I miss something or is climbing safe at nighttime? Okay, the climbing in New Zealand was serious fun and I’ll be back again in a couple of month’s to further develop my skills and to climb Mount Aspiring. And I can’t wait to catch up with the friendly mob at Adventure Consultant’s in Wanaka. The Kiwi’s are a fun bunch with a great sense of humour, even if they are still are a little bit dirty over that under-arm bowling incident all those years ago.

 But hand on my heart, give me the good old Aussie Dunny any day, the most I’ll ever have to contend with is a couple of red back’s and last month’s centre-fold girl…if you’d be so lucky!

Va cava tiko (How’s it going)

I have always found there is something very romantic about the South Pacific. Palm trees swaying gently in a balmy late afternoon sea breeze. The sun gracefully sliding towards the western horizon in a warm glow of burnt orange as the sea caresses the golden grains of sand on a faraway beach…

 As a boy growing up I was an avid reader of the writings of Robert Louis Stevenson, so it should come as little surprise that places like Yasawa Island were the playgrounds of my mind…

After a relatively short flight of fours hours from Australia, and another thirty minute flight in a small aircraft we arrived at the beautiful Yasawa Island Group in Fiji.

 

The welcome was warm and friendly.

We enjoyed a lovely dinner accompanied with a few wines, a restful sleep, before heading off for a snorkel this morning.

We weren’t disappointed!

Our week ahead promises to be one of fun and laughter, perhaps romance, with Janet, my partner, and TomO, our 12 year-old son. TomO has taken an active interest in girls over the past few months, and with a couple here around his age it will be interesting to watch…

After all, this was the setting for the movie Blue Lagoon…

 Va cava tiko: How’s it going!! (Pronounced vah-cah-vah-tee-koh) 

 

Strewth Mate, you gotta love Tough Mudder

Sydney had its first Tough Mudder event today, and geez how good is it! I lined up with my brother-in-law, and usual partner in crime, Ray Tong, and man did we have a good time of it.

We laughed our way through it…

Mind you, my sister, who turned up yesterday to look after the dogs while we are in Fiji, snapped this shot at the start line.

It kinda has that look about it that suggests I was saying what the (insert naughty words) are we doing here!

It was run just to the north of Sydney on a rural property, and crikey, I don’t know where they found all that mud, but let me tell you, there was lot’s of it over the 20 kilometre obstacle course…

Anyway, I’ll leave you with a couple of photos of the event, ’cause I’m heading for the showers, you know, to clean myself up…

P.S. Note to self, suggest to Janet that I’ve found the perfect beauty treatment that only costs about a hundred bucks. The last time I saw the bill for the day spa, and mud pack, it cost a multiple of this…

I’m more excited than a Bull in a paddock full of Cows

Yep, I’m pumped and excited!

I have spent the last week climbing in New Zealand’s Southern Alps with Dean Staples, an accomplished high altitude climber who has been to the top (and back) of Mount Everest eight times.

The opportunity to spend time under Dean’s guidance has been a great opportunity for me and there is much to write about…

But I need to get through Tough Mudder first which is being held to the north of Sydney tomorrow…

They say running 20 kilometres, being zapped by 10,000 volts, jumping through burning hay bales, after swimming in ice cold water is fun – I’m hoping so!

And if I manage to get through tomorrow I’ll be heading to Yasawa Island, situated in Fiji, with Janet and TomO this coming Sunday, so I’ll catch up with you from there!

Neighbour’s – Love them or hate them (Just don’t mess with this one)

Ever had a next door neighbour that you wish would just go away? You’ll know the ones I’m talking about, loud, unruly, parties until all hours, beer bottles chiming to the sounds of another cheers! Mind you, it almost sounds fun when put it that way, but it does wear thin after a while.

 And then there are the silent ones, no noise, no parties, pretty much keep to themselves, but shikes, they sure can give you the creeps.

Strewth, we’ve had our fair share of them over the years, but we are lucky to have great neighbours all around us these days!

But I’ll share a yarn about one neighbour that we had not so long ago.

We were out touring in Far North-Queensland, FNQ (pronounced ef-fen-Q), up in the Gulf Savannah Country where Janet, my partner, has her roots.  Mott’s are still grazing sheep and cattle in that region to this day, and for me, growing up in Townsville, this region was my backyard.

Over the past few years we have made the 7,000 kilometre round-trip to one of our most favourite spots in the Australian bush, Lawn Hill Gorge.

Now let me tell you, this is one heck of a beautiful spot that we first visited back in the 1990s. It was literally a flying visit in an aircraft we owned, a Piper Arrow, call sign Foxtrot-Tango-Hotel. This was before the little tacka, TomO  came along, and we flew it extensively over the Australian outback before selling it some years back.

These days we enjoy the drive north through the outback in The Landy just as much as we did flying over it.

The Aussie Outback, it’s a great place to just stand still and take it all in, a place where the barren land and ochre red soil meets the deep blue of the never-ending sky…

Anyway…

Last year when we were up there we had no problem securing a great spot beside the creek, which surprised us as there were a few others around at Adel’s Grove, a small tourist resort that caters for travellers just nearby to the main gorge.

It was our neighbour, a magnificent Olive Python that measured about 5 metres in length.  A beautiful specimen it was. Apparently, only known to eat small children…

Just kiddin’…

It had taken up residence just on the bank where we had set up camp.  These are not an aggressive snake, despite their size, and not venomous. And we have our fair share of those venomous ones.

Crikey, we’ve got a bagful of the world’s most deadly snakes, and none of those “rattling” things that they have elsewhere, just hard-core mean and downright dangerous ones!

Okay, fair’s fair, the North American rattle snake does make it into the top ten…I don’t want to turn this into a “mine’s bigger than your’s thing”

Most passing by our camp were totally oblivious to it being there, many who saw it thought they were about to be eaten alive, others were curious at a seemingly chance encounter with something so wonderful.

Late in the day, as the sun drifted low into the western horizon and shadows started to cast long, it would move on, returning first thing the next morning to take up its position once again.

Yep, neighbours, they come in all shapes and sizes, some you love to bits, others you’d be happy to see the back of, but for sure, we’d be happy to have this bloke as our neighbour anytime – best “guard dog” we’ve ever had…

Ps. For those who might be wondering, Janet loved it, she was the photographer. Um, I must’ve been busy with something…

Just Trick Your Brain (It works for me!)

Most days I get out and about and do some form of exercise. One of my staples is rowing, and I belong to a virtual rowing team based in America, with members scattered around the globe.

The Luna-tics was formed by a group of NASA people many years ago with the intention of rowing to the moon and back on C2 rowing machines. Members log their metres whenever they row, advancing the journey.  We have been to the moon and back and we are on the return journey.

Currently I am standing at around 15,000 kilometres of  rowing over the past  4 years.

But I’m digressing, as usual, mind you if you are a rower we are always on the look-out for “space travellers” to join the journey…

Most, if not almost every day I will do some form of strength training, which will either be body-weight exercises such as push-ups, or chin-ups. Alternatively, I will do all the bigger compound lifts with weighted barbells.

I follow a progressive 5×5 program, which involves 5 sets of 5 repetitions with weights advancing in a periodised way over an 8 week cycle. There is plenty of information available on this style of lifting and it works best for me as I want strength development, rather than too much bulky muscular development.

And when I can I put some indoor climbing in there, or better still a climb up in the Blue Mountains with TomO, our son…

Since this year’s Coast to Coast race across New Zealand I have placed more focus on strength training during the winter months which requires some calorie excess to gain muscle. But over the next 3-4 months I will be looking to cut up to 10 kilograms out of my frame to prepare for the mountaineering and climbs I have planned next year.  I’ll do this progressively through diet management whilst continuing with the same exercise regime.

And on other days, if I haven’t run out of my quota of seven, I will grab my “sled” and load it with a sandbag and drag it around the park while carrying dumbbells or do sprints dragging it behind me, even go for a run…

But sleds are an awesome workout!

Of course there is my other passion, kayaking.

We try to spend weekends on the water, especially through the summer months.  And this is a family affair at Narrabeen Lake, on Sydney’s northern beaches. Well, Janet, my partner, is more inclined to be lazing around on the shore with the weekend papers, taking a well earned rest from the weekly grind.

She loves being part of it all, but is happy to get her exercise with a daily walk of our dogs, MilO and JackO, which can be quite a sociable affair with lattes and morning tea afterwards. Mind you, she’s first in line for the adventure bits, like skydiving, but less inclined if it involves a “Landy” style endurance walk…which can be a non-stop overnight affair…

If you’ve never experienced an overnight walk or run, give it a go. It is a different world out there in the dark, just pop a Petzl light on your head and go!

And including family is the key to my training. I don’t use a gym, preferring to work-out in the shed at home, and down at the beach or lake, that way we are all together…

And on diet, I don’t stress too much about the actual composition of what I eat, focussing more on controlling weight through portion size.  The formula is pretty simple, eat more than you need and weight increases, if that is what you need, or eat less and it declines.

Mind you, I am  pretty much a meat and three veggie man, so the diet is fairly well balanced by the time I add some fruit. And Janet is a wonderful (the world’s greatest) cook…

 But my point is this, it doesn’t matter what you do, or even how long you do it for, the main thing is you try and do something every day.

Consistency leads to habit…habits lead to life-long health benefits…

But don’t beat yourself up if you miss a day either, just get back to it the next day, sometimes a good snooze under the mango tree is just what the body needs!

The Shed

Having said all this, I ceased all weight-lifting this week as I don’t want to run the risk of injury ahead of climbing in New Zealand this coming week.

I manage injury risk through daily stretching, weekly massages and chiropractic adjustments.  I see these three things as just as important as anything else I do. But Murphy’s Law say this will be the week I’ll injure myself, so by stopping it I can manage the risk. It won’t make any difference to my fitness levels.

And none of this comes easy for me, but I try and look through the daily routine to what it is I am trying to achieve.

I visualise where I want to be.

The brain is an amazing thing, give it a thought and it will simply accept it without qualification. If you tell it you’ve already climbed that high mountain, or run that marathon, or just done a new PR in weight-lifting, it will believe you.

Next time you come to do it, it just happens…well, as long as you put the work in!

Every day I see myself on the summit of Cho Oyu, of people congratulating me on my return…

 Believe in yourself, your inner strength and Just Do It….

The One Lovely Blog Award

I must confess to a little ignorance today. I was nominated for a “Lovely Blogger Award” a day or two ago, and again today, and I have only realised I have some obligations in receiving this award.

Crikey, I’m just an ordinary Aussie bloke writing about a journey I’m on to climb the world’s highest peaks, along with a few other yarns tossed in, just for a laugh.

To find that people actually enjoy reading about it, well that’s just the bees’ knees.

To all, thank you…

And I send my special thanks to both Haylee Slater and Deliberately Delicious for the recent nominations.

According to the rules, I am to thank the person who nominated me, so to these two wonderful ladies, once again, thank you.

And I’m to share seven things about myself, and then nominate fifteen blogs that I think are deserving of the One Lovely Blog Award, and to let them know!

Finding fifteen blogs to nominate was a tough one for me.

I read many stories, blogs on WordPress, many I find motivating and inspiring, others insightful, plenty that I get a good laugh out of, and many showcasing their part of the world through photography.

Would it be fair to single only fifteen out?

Then I moved on to the next part. I’m supposed to pick seven things about myself.

Geez, if I thought the other part was difficult, this was really going to put me to the test.

Only seven I thought?

Strewth, a bloke like me could go on forever once I got wound up, how was I supposed to pick only seven?

Anyway, I’ll give it a shot, and not in any particular order…

  • I’m part of a wonderful family comprising Janet, my partner, who was the literally girl-next door, and TomO, our wonderful son. Of course there is Milo, our four-year old Border collie, and JackO, our fourteen-year old Jack Russell terrier.
  • I try not to take myself or life too seriously, it is far too short to do that, right?
  • I am passionate about anything I do. Okay, my mates and close friends say obsessive, but if you are going to do something do it well I say. Mind you, that can be good, and bad, a bit ying and yang-ish. You know what I mean? It kind of depends on what you are actually doing.
  • I love adventure and will give most things a go at least once, and if you’re not thinking at some point in the adventure what the hell am I doing here, then the ante needs to be upped the next time around!
  • I love vegemite. Okay you don’t have to get this one, but my fear is the sun wouldn’t rise in the east and there’d be a pagan uprising if I didn’t have it for breakfast everyday. Yep 365 days a year! (For crying out loud, they eat Kippers for brekky in England, so give me a break on this one!)
  • Despite having a fairly happy go lucky approach to life, I do ensure that I manage the risks associated with any of my adventurous undertakings, eliminate as much as I can, and decide whether the balance is acceptable.
  • I live to the motto “Those that don’t think it can be done shouldn’t bother the person doing it”.  But don’t think I won’t take advice, for sure I do, but I just can’t bear armchair critics!

And in no particular order, people and blogs I enjoy reading. Each and everyone has made me think, have a laugh, and given me the opportunity to see a different perspective on the world through their eyes.

Take care out there, dream big, and if you’re dreams don’t scare you, then you ain’t dreamin’ big enough!

Cheers, The Landy…

Cold Rose-Hip-Soup (You’re kidding me, right?)

Cold Rose-Hip Soup, it should be bottled and dispensed from a chemist, a pharmacy, drug store, but eaten to be enjoyed, surely not?

 Whilst being a self-confessed meat and three veggie man myself, I am always happy to try something new, after all I love my food, but for me this was pushing the boundaries and I’m no wall-flower when it calls for pushing boundaries…

 I have a wonderful mother-in-law, Clare, with whom I enjoy a very good relationship, she tells me what she thinks, pulls me into line if I need it, but loves me to bits; she’s only human after all, I guess!

Yes, I lucked out, a beautiful partner and wife, Janet, and a great mother-in-law. Many would call that Nirvana!

English: Some rose hips in close-up

But the relationship was put to the test when we were called upon to try out a new culinary offering from Clare. You see as part of a group that Clare, and her husband, Archie, belong to, The Beef, Steak, and Burgundy Club, it was her turn to produce a menu for an upcoming dinner.

Now family dinners around the Fawthrop table are always enjoyable affairs, plenty of fun and laughter, the usual offering of early childhood stories of Archie’s upbringing in Colonial India, and of Clare’s on the family’s sheep station in far Western Queensland; Outback Australia.

And Clare is a wonderful cook, very home-style just how I like it. So it was with great trepidation that I approached the first course, a rather large bowl of cold rose-hip soup.

 It’s okay if you’re feeling a little squeamish. I was at the mere thought of it.

Now being the only son-in-law present it somehow fell to me to be the taster and by the look on the faces of all those present they appeared more than happy with this arrangement.

I faced the bowl off, like a man condemned, and raised the spoon, feebly, to my lips, like it would be the last thing I would ever do…

Fair dinkum, this was the worst thing I had ever tasted in my life.

Well, there were a couple of doses of castor oil in my younger days, and by now I’m thinking this could be bottled as an alternative!

Clare, anxiously awaiting endorsement of the wonderful soup she toiled over, looked my way, expectantly.

If we were not on such great terms I could be forgiven for thinking this soup would be better named mother-in-law’s revenge.

I weighed up my options…

I could do the right thing and tell her it was fantastic, but crikey, then I would have to finish this bowl, plus another helping for sure.

I was still gagging on the first spoonful…

Or I could tell her the truth, usually a good policy, as I tell our son TomO, unless a little white lie is called for!

Self-preservation is a wonderful instinct that we mere humans are well adapted to…

“Clare, this soup is bloody terrible”

There was a pregnant pause around the table, followed by the sound of half-a-dozen spoons being quickly placed back in their bowls, soup untouched!

The look on everyone’s faces confirmed the verdict, I was safe – phew!

 So a question to you, my good friends out there…

Is there such a thing as a good, cold, rose-hip-soup, and do you have a recipe, or am I on-the-money and it really is “mother-in-law’s revenge?”

 

 

The World’s Premier Adventure Race (New Zealand)

The Southern Alps of New Zealand is a wonderful playground and I’m sure there are many like me out there who have experienced what this part of the world has on offer.

You’d think that living in close proximity to New Zealand Australians would visit all the time. After all it is just a short flight across “The Ditch” to get there. In fact it is quicker to get to New Zealand than it is to get from the East to West Coast of Australia.

Up until this year I had never visited previously, and here I am about to embark on my third trip in the last few months. I’m sure I’ll have much to write about after my week of climbing and mountaineering next week.

Earlier this year I competed in the Speight’s Coast to Coast Adventure Race, a race that starts on the West Coast of the country at Kumara beach on the Tasman Sea, takes you over the Southern Alps, and finishes on the East Coast in Christchurch at Sumner beach on the Pacific Ocean.

It is billed as the world’s premier multi-sport event and the benchmark by which all other multi-sport events are judged, both in New Zealand and overseas.

It covers a total distance of 243 kilometres comprising 36 kilometres of running, including a 33km mountain stage that climbs almost 1,000 metres, two cycling legs totalling 125 kilometres, and a 67 kilometre kayak down the Waimakariri River, through the Grand Canyon of New Zealand, the Waimakariri Gorge.

If you’ve got a spare 5 minutes take the time to have a look at the video, it showcases the race and is very inspiring.

The winner in this year’s one day event took line honours in just over eleven hours.

The cut-off times for the one day event were too severe for me, so I competed in the two day event and Janet my partner, and Tomo, our son were my support crew. They did a great job!

The scenery is amazing, and despite being in a race I made sure I took it in, especially the views as I made my way up over Goats Pass on the 33 kilometre mountain run.

The kayak leg takes you down the fast flowing Waimakariri River, a braided river that has a 33 kilometre section of white water as it passes through a long gorge.  Spectacular country, and I rolled twice in the gorge as I negotiated rapids, usually about the times I relaxed to take in the view!

But what makes this event truly great is the camaraderie of all the competitors.  Whilst it is a race I found the support given and shown throughout the event is unparallel in any other event I have competed in. The sportsmanship shown was fantastic, although, being an Aussie I did get some friendly ribbing from my Tasman cousins, as you’d expect!

And how is this for inspiration, Neelusha Memona  a 27 year old who lost 70 percent of her sight after a brain injury in 2000 competed and finished the two day event assisted by a support crew…

The people of Christchurch are amazing. Almost one year to the day of the start of this year’s race, its 30th running, the city was struck by a devastating earthquake that destroyed a large part of the city centre, many people died.

But as we passed through the city on our bikes, racing to the finish line, ushered through traffic lights by police as though we were royalty, the people of Christchurch lined the streets and cheered us on.

I read many stories about people competing in triathlons, running, and cycling events, even kayak races.

I say, if you love adventure, exercise, and have a panache for travel – take the time to have a look at this event, you might find yourself drawn towards it, like a magnet. And truly, you will be rewarded by a great experience in a country full of spectacular scenery and warm friendly people.

I was, and if I can convince “the boss” at work to give me more time off I might just get back for next February’s start.

What do you say all you triathletes and adventure racers, see you there next year?

A Black Eyed Bruiser

This morning while doing a weight session in “The Shed” I was listening to a great Aussie Rocker, Stevie Wright, and a song I hadn’t heard for a long-time played, “A Black Eyed Bruiser”. This is a favourite and I thought how appropriate it was for today.

 This morning, TomO, our 12 year-old son, competed in his very first Taekwondo tournament. He has been training for over a year now and has earned his green belt and the right to compete…

Mum was a little hesitant at first, after all this was her little man going on to the mat, putting his body on the line…

But like when he first started playing football, Rugby Union that is, Janet has warmed to a sport that teaches respect, self-discipline and encourages a high level of fitness. And in a controlled environment that can’t be a bad thing?

He loved it!

After the tournament we asked him what he was feeling as he went out onto the mat…and he said,

“Dad I was pumped and ready, a little nervous, like it is hard to explain, but I just said to myself, here I go”…

TomO was a little behind in the points initially, but started to pick-up as the bout progressed.

But just as TomO spun around in a 360 – degree kick his opponent crouched slightly and it unintentionally connected above the other boy’s shoulder.

Unfortunately, this lead to an instant disqualification for TomO as under the rules of this competition hits above the shoulder or to the head area are not permitted, and rightly so!

His opponent was not injured and was fine with what transpired, there was no malice, just an unlucky hit. TomO bowed, shook his opponents hand and thanked him for the bout.

TomO accepted it for what it was, and although slightly disappointed at the way it ended today, he said he’d learnt a lot by competing, was better for the experience and can’t wait to get back into practice this week to prepare for his next competition.

Good work mate, we’re proud of our Little Black Eyed Bruiser…

Butt your Bum’s Broken…

Last weekend we had a pleasant and impromptu get-together at our place with a few friends. These evening’s are always enjoyable, unpredictable and a good laugh is always had, frequently at my expense…

 The increase in banter and laughter seemingly correlated with the number of wine corks being pulled.

A few of the world’s problems were solved, and Janet, my partner, managed to organise a major shopping trip with her girlfriends whilst I’m climbing in New Zealand next week.

 And then somehow we got on to a discussion about ‘what have you broken?’

Now don’t ask me why, it just did.

Bob kicked it off by saying…

 “Yeah, I fell out of a tree, broke me arm”

Ray, a rugby-mad Kiwi, has a nose that’s been moved off-centre courtesy of failing to catch a high ball…

There was a couple of broken legs in their somewhere, I can’t remember who, but let’s face it they are kind of “dime a dozen”…

Jeff managed to break a finger in a schoolyard dust up. Mind you, it would’ve been a brave person to take him on, the bloke is about six-foot-six and has shoulders as wide as Beyoncé’s booty, and a bit firmer as well.

And hey, don’t get me wrong here, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with her booty!!

 Kimbalee, bless her, broke a couple of nails and had to spend half-a morning in the beauty parlour sipping lattes while a team of specialists worked their magic on her.

Eventually it got around to me,

 “Baz, how’d you go, you’ve bound to have broken something?”

Janet, her cheeky grin barely contained, egging them on…

 “Yeah Baz, tell them what you’ve broken”…

Blushing,

 “My bum”.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so funny any other time, but this was a crowd that was only warming up. They laughed so hard and long that many were in tears…

“Thanks Janet…”

My broken bum had its making back in the early 1980s at a Sunday session at the Brekky Creek Hotel, in Brisbane.  Back in those days the pub only opened for a short time on Sunday’s and it was a case of getting as many beers into you in as short a time possible.

 

I’d like to say that I was responsible in the way I approached these sessions, but I can’t…

Anyway, they were always very sociable and fun affairs…

After a few jugs of beer, the boys decided we should go and learn to skydive, sounded awesome, I was in for sure.

And thinking that I could always claim ‘beer talk’ if I needed to back out of it…

No chance, Bush-rat, as one of our mates was known, saw to it that wasn’t going to happen, and by the next Saturday we had done our first jump out in the Brisbane Valley at Toogoolawah.

At the time it was only a fledgling drop-zone. Today it is a major skydiving centre run by the bloke who tossed me out that very first time, Dave McEvoy.

Customary as it was, we had to shout the bar at the Toogoolawah pub on that Saturday night.

It was a big night…!

We went on to do quite a few jumps over a couple of years and enjoyed the shenanigans that was part of the skydiving scene, a crazy bunch by any standard…

 It was fun times back in the days when sex was safe and skydiving was dangerous.

How things have changed!

Eventually work commitments saw us all head our separate ways, and skydiving tended to take a back seat to other activities…

Fast forward to more recent times and I thought it would be good to go back and do some more skydiving.

I sounded out Janet, who was right on to it and wanted to go also.

Back in the early 1980’s she was literally the girl next door, and yearned to go skydiving with us, but was to shy to ask. All of eighteen, and sweet as…

There was no such shyness this time around.

 And, yeah, I did marry the girl-next-door…

We signed up to do an accelerated free-fall course, which went well…

So how about the broken bum they chorused?

On a jump I deployed my chute as I was diving away, it was a little sloppy really, and my foot got caught in one of the lines as the chute was opening and it flipped me through my harness.

The upshot was I went from 200 kilometres an hour to zero with one leg above my head, stuck in the line.

It was a leg split that even the most practiced ballerina would’ve be proud of, unfortunately for me it ripped my hamstring right off my bum…

The pain was intense, but I managed to land safely…

A couple of weeks later and after a few thousand dollars changed hands it was sewn back on again!

There was quiet around the table, I was hoping they would simply move on, no such luck, it was just the calm before the storm erupted with a burst of laughter!

Needless to say, I’ve been the butt of their jokes ever since…

Most People I Know (Think that I’m Crazy)

There is nothing better than hearing one of your favourite songs played on the radio, even better when it is a long time favourite and one that you hadn’t heard in ages, unearthed to tickle the airwaves once more.

Music has the ability to move your emotions. It can motivate you, it can take you places, it can make you laugh, or even cry, it can sometimes rejoin you with distant memories…

The other day TomO and I were out driving and one such song came on the radio, Most People I Know (Think That I’m Crazy), by Billy Thorpe and the Aztecs, a great Aussie rock-band.

 Initially formed in the 1960s, the band parted ways, but reformed again in 1971. It was during this second coming that I was growing up in Townsville, North Queensland, heading into puberty at the rate of knots and just as this song was released.

Geez, those days were free and easy.  You could head off on your bike with your mates in the morning, but with strict instructions to be back for dinner.

In reality we were usually back by lunchtime.

Food was required on a regular basis with all that testosterone sloshing around!

But I’m digressing from the story, testosterone and girls is for another time, much later…

Anyway, TomO says…

“So Dad, you like this song, hey?

“It’s fitting ‘cause Mum and me think you are just a little bit crazy, that’s for sure.”

I reminded him that he was a chip off the old-block and he might just be a little crazy as well…

“Sure, it is one of my all time favourites” I said, “it takes me back to a time when I was around your age, maybe a touch older.”

“Were you going through puberty”, he asked?

(We’re fielding a lot of these questions at the moment…)

TomO tells me he’s starting to get the ‘twinge’ every so often, not that he quite described it that way – but as he put it…

“Things are a happening down there, Dad.”

Geez, I wasn’t long out of Sesame Street at his age and I was still struggling with the alphabet…

But moving along…the song now in full swing, I said,

“Yeah, sure mate, I love that song, but it makes me feel sick!”

“How could it make you feel sick if you like it?”

A fair question I thought as I gave myself a mental smack around the chops…

“See, Dad you are crazy.”

“How could you love a song and say that it makes you sick at the same time.”

“It doesn’t make sense.”

Realising I had just aroused an interest that would have him hunting down an answer like a pit bull terrier nipping at your heels I now had to share a story that had been holed up inside that (little) brain of mine, never shared with anyone before that moment…

If I was Homer Simpson, I’d be slapping my forehead and saying, DOH!

The song had finished and I vowed to find a quiet moment up in The Shed later in the day when I could crank it back up on my IPod.

Yep, he was nipping away, so I thought this is a good opportunity to reinforce the evils of smoking.

All due respect to smokers, your choice, but the evidence is out there.

Anyway…

I’m not sure I should be putting this in the adventure category, I’ll let you be the judge, but it was an adventure of sorts at the time.

I’d heard some mates talking about how they had tried smoking, but I was shying away from these discussions as I was too scared to give it a go and besides I wanted to avoid the peer pressure thing.

In reality, I did want to give it a go, but didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of my mates, I mean what if I threw up, or coughed, or whatever, I’d be the laughing stock of class 6E and maybe even risk being dropped from the footy team.

It was about mid-semester when that fateful day arrived, I just didn’t recognise it when I got out of bed that morning and headed to school, after all it was the same as any other day, at least I thought it was.

On the way home I passed Leong’s corner shop. You’ll know the place, full of lollies, ice-creams, chips, stuff I didn’t usually have any money to spend on, but still I passed by most days.

I was hanging around outside on my bike, not sure what I was actually waiting for as I was still a couple of years away from taking a more active interest in the girls that hung out there. And no I wasn’t looking at boys either, just on the off chance you’re wondering!

I see this bloke pull up in a flash car, well I thought it was flash anyway, a new Holden Kingswood sedan.  As he gets out he toss’s a half-finished cigarette onto the ground.

The next couple of moments were a blur really, certainly impulsive, and isn’t that the story of my life.

I swooped on that smouldering cigarette, or durrie, as the older boys called them, with all the zest of two seagulls fighting over a lone chip, discarded uncaringly on a beach side promenade.

Quickly extinguishing it, I hid it in my pocket and was back on my bike.

Maybe that is where my athletic prowess, if I can call it that, started as I peddled faster and harder than I had ever done before, and probably ever since.

I swore the whole world witnessed this event and the police would be on to me before I got home, sirens blaring, handcuffed and dragged before my parents. Oh my gawd, the risk I was taking of being caught with this solitary piece of contraband.

Luck was seemingly on my side, I got home, there was still Mum to navigate past as I headed for the kitchen cupboard that stored the matches.

Would she miss a box?

The mind was racing, but I needn’t have worried. I should have been in the military, the task was completed with precision, I had the matches and the cigarette, there was an air of subterfuge about the whole thing, a tinge of excitement…

By now I was feeling like a fugitive running from the law as I headed down to the old sawmill a couple of kilometres from home. In hindsight, I’m not sure why I didn’t do it the time old-fashioned way and light the bloody thing up behind the shed.

Anyway, I scaled an old sawdust pile and slid down the other side, careful to remain well out of sight.

Fumbling, I took that used cigarette, yep the one covered in someone else’s spit and saliva, probably contaminated with all kinds of germs and put it in my mouth.

For crying out loud, this thing had been between the lips of someone I didn’t know.

But it was far too late to contemplate now as the flame of the match was licking at my fingers like an out-of-control bush fire…

This was supposed to be a pleasant experience, or so they say. I tried to be sophisticated about it…

Sophisticated, hell, who was I kidding? I was covered in sawdust, sucking on a discarded fag, strewth what was I thinking…

As things stood I still wasn’t willing to kiss Debbie Kelly, our next door neighbour, despite her numerous advances for fear of catching girl germs. But I had someone’s used fag, durrie, whatever you want to call the damned thing between my lips…

I grew up with the Kelly girls and their father was a dentist, so surely they wouldn’t have too many girl germs swilling around in their saliva.

Okay, so let’s just put it out there…

It was gross, yep, let me say it again, gross, but seemingly he was ‘clean’ as I’m still around to tell the yarn…

But hey, give me a break, I might have been all of thirteen, thinking I was going on twenty-one or something. I couldn’t even afford a packet of lollies from Leong’s store, let alone a packet of durries.

I coughed my way through that cigarette.

At one stage I was thinking that snogging Debbie Kelly couldn’t possibly be this bad, but as they say, the rest is history.

I got on my bike and headed towards home, I wasn’t feeling one way or the other on this smoking thing, I was indifferent at best, and maybe now I had gotten this out the way I could take Debbie Kelly up on her offer of a snog, just for comparison.

Crikey, about half-way home it hit me, my head started spinning and I felt the whole world was about to end.

I felt sick, man, I mean really sick.

I made it home and headed for the shower, I’m sure Mum was wondering how I came to be covered in sawdust, but she didn’t ask. Perhaps she thought I was stealing a kiss from Debbie Kelly down at the old sawmill?

If only that had been the case, maybe I would have a cheeky smile on my face each time I heard Billy Thorpe and the Aztecs belt out that song.

TomO listened on intently. I did notice a bit of a wry smile coming out the corner of his mouth, I thought perhaps he was weighing up what he would have done, a snog or the cigarette…

You see as I lay back on my bed, my head spinning faster than an out of control merry-go-round, Billy and the Boys were belting out that classic on the radio, and I felt so sick, so very sick…

But geez, I still love that song!

(Caution) Aussie Beach Bum – at work

The other day I wrote about an ocean paddle I had at ‘The Haven’ at Terrigal, just to the north of Sydney. It was a great day, but unfortunately there was little in the way of the ocean swells that can come that way, it was full of promise, but when we arrived there was very little happening…

The Skillion is a prominent feature in the area and is a promontory on the southern-end of Terrigal that commands excellent 360 degree views of the ocean and surrounding beach. It is also a popular whale watching spot and they are currently on their annual migration north…

We  had a lot of fun out there, catching small swells and sprinting through to the beach on them, a great work-out for those who would like to give it a go!

 And as I had the Go-pro running (don’t you love them!) I put some footage to one of my favourite Aussie rock-bands, The Black Sorrows.

And it makes a change to all the climbing I have been doing recently. Mind you there is plenty of that coming up very soon in New Zealand and I’m excited (very excited) about that!

I paddle three different kayaks, one is an Epic V10, which is a very fast boat, especially on flat water,  but it is also designed to perform exceptionally well in larger ocean swells. It weighs in at 15 kilograms (33 lbs), is 6.5 metres in length (21.5 feet) and is made of fibreglass, carbon fibre, and Kevlar. And despite its narrow width, it is quite stable once you get used to paddling this type of craft.

It only just fits into The Shed

The second is a Fenn XT, a great all-round boat that I have competed and paddled the Hawkesbury Classic Bridge to Bridge race in Sydney on. The race covers 111-kilometres and starts at 4pm on the last Saturday of October each year and runs through the night, supported by a cast of volunteers.

And if you haven’t paddled at night under a full moon, give it a go!

Starting as the sun slips lower on the western horizon the race usually has around 600 starters in all kinds of kayaks, and it is a great feeling covering those last few kilometres heading east watching the first strands of light appearing on the eastern horizon.

And after about 11 hours in the kayak you are suffering numb-bum… I’m calling that a technical kayaking term!

Anyway the Fenn XT is slightly heavier weighing in at 17 kilograms (38 lbs) and 5.8 metres in length (19 feet).  It is full fibreglass and that is what makes it slightly heavier.

I usually use this for ocean paddling as it is more stable and much easier to get back on in an ocean swell than its bigger brother, the Epic V10.

And yes, I swim every so often when that rogue swell or wave hits you and catches you off guard! Although, when you’re a kilometre or more offshore the thought of a great white shark lurking kind of encourages you back on pretty quickly…

My other boat is a K1 race boat, very old, and I have kept it for TomO, my son, to use! They are typically very unstable due to the narrow width, but extremely fast in the right conditions, and with a good paddler.

And he is showing signs of being just that!!

Freshly Pressed, Crikey – you’ve got to be kidding me?

The Landy – Out and About had many emails of support this morning. I was a little surprised to find the inbox filled with messages… 

I was even more surprised that one was from the good people at WordPress.com informing me that I had been Freshly Pressed!

I felt humbled…

There are so many wonderful stories on WordPress, many inspirational, plenty that are motivational, and of course there are those that give you a chuckle just when you need it.

It would seem unfair that anyone of these stories is singled out…

In fact, I have spent so much time reading them recently that I have a pile of books that I have put off reading, gathering dust in the study…

So to all, I simply say thank you!

In part, my blog is about my journey to climb an 8,000 mountain peak, the trials and tribulations, the warts and all account, but it is also an opportunity for me to provide a window into an average Aussie bloke’s day-to-day life.

The commas may not always be in the right place, or the grammar might be left wanting at times, but hopefully the story shines through…

I chose to share my story because the dream I have, my goal of high altitude climbing frightens me a little.

 Who am I that I should dream of such an undertaking?

And there is nothing wrong with being a little bit frightened, but I am determined to give it my best shot, approaching the challenge in a logical way and seeking the assistance of those who have been there, who have the skills, to learn those skills, but above all else to have fun trying…

Since putting my story out there I have received many words of encouragement. This encouragement is the energy, the fuel that powers me on…

Many people are on a journey, pursuing their dreams and it has given me great comfort to know that others are scaling their own peaks, whatever they might be. It is the collective sharing of these stories that demonstrates loudly that ordinary people are achieving great things each and every day.

The legendary mountaineer, Walt Unsworth summed up many of us when he opined…

But there are men for whom the unattainable has a special attraction. Usually they are not experts: their ambitions and fantasies are strong enough to brush aside the doubts which more cautious men might have. Determination and faith are their strongest weapons.  At best such men are regarded as eccentric; at worst, mad…”

That first kilogram of weight loss, or a new personal best in a running race, overcoming adversity, or baking the best cake you have ever made, these are the dreams of others, and they are no less or more significant than others, but the one thing these dreams have in common is they provide a starting point for us all to start our journey…

And for many of us the greatest support we receive is from our families, encouraging us to find the greatness that lies within us all.

TomO – Welford National Park

In the words of someone who inspires me, TomO, our 12 year old son. On taking my place on the start line in the Coast-to-Coast adventure race across New Zealand earlier this year, he took my hand and simply said – Dad, just embrace it!

I say to all who dream, “Just embrace it…”

Where’s the Surf…an ocean paddle

Today we celebrated Father’s Day in Australia, and we had an awesome day.  With Janet, my partner, and our son TomO, we headed to the Central Coast region just to the north of Sydney for some fun at ‘The Haven’ – Terrigal.

 Janet’s sister, Leah, and partner, Ray, and their beautiful son, Aubrey, joined us at Terrigal which is an old haunt of Ray’s.

Ray and I have decided to spend more time ocean paddling this spring and summer to help hone our white water skills. This will assist our chances in the Coast-to-Coast race across New Zealand next time we enter and hopefully give us an edge to improve our times from this year. It has a 67-kilometre kayak section, including around 35 kilometres of white water paddling along the Waimakariri River.

Ocean and surf paddling is a good way to assist in developing and advancing white water skills and is more accessible for us than white water kayaking. We have lots of beaches near-by, but very little white water other than the stadium that was used in the Sydney 2000 Olympic Games.

And Terrigal turned it on for us today, we are only two days into spring and the weather was fantastic, if this is what we can look forward to over the next few months then we will be in seventh heaven!

I gave my other kayak, a Fenn Mako XT, a run today, its first in months as it is a very stable boat to paddle. Although it is slightly shorter than my Epic kayak, which measures in at 6.5 metres long, and 42 centimetres wide. Ray was paddling his Beachcomber Barracuda…

There wasn’t much of a swell coming through the Haven and further offshore a strong southeasterly was making conditions choppy, but we made the most of what was on offer spending about three hours on the water.

Ray was eyeing the large hill that shelters the Haven from these winds, pointing out that the stairs leading to the look-out would be good for a cardio-workout and was booking me in for next Saturday morning at 6am.  I was thinking of some ‘naughty’ words to use, but simply smiled and said…bring it on!

But hey, happy to put it in the diary as it is a great spot and we can finish off the session with a paddle in the kayaks, that will give me a chance to wreak my revenge on Ray…

And seeing TomO out on the paddle board today having fun in the sun whilst Janet and I looked on was the best father’s day present a dad could wish for…!

Out and About with the family, it doesn’t get much better than that…

Crank up the music – and pump me up brother!

Exercise, you have to love it, otherwise you end up hating it. I make it part of my daily routine and it is a lifestyle choice for our family…

 I find it provides a great escape, a release valve to the daily grind and pressures we all face, and for me there is little better than cranking up the music in the shed and getting stuck into a workout session!

Most days I rise at 4.30am to row on my C2 rowing machine and I do some sort of resistance exercises using either body weight, or free weights later in the day. Usually I spend around two hours a day on exercise, depending on the program for any given week.

For strength I train as a power-lifter as I believe it strengthens not only the body, but also the mind.

My personal bests are listed here, and I am lifting not too far from those levels presently.

Squat – 175 kg (385 lbs.)

Bench Press – 152.5 kg (335 lbs.)

Dead-lift – 215 kg (475 lbs.)

But I might also grab a backpack, usually weighted at around 30 kilograms and go for a 10 kilometre walk up and down the hills near where I live. I have been increasing this in recent weeks to assist in the mountain climbing I will be doing over the next few months in New Zealand and later next year in Nepal.

In recent times I have been doing 50 & 100 kilometre walks, starting in the early hours of the morning and walking until I get to the finish, taking as little rest time as I can manage. Great for the mind, body, and soul…

And on the weekend I can usually be found kayaking on Narrabeen Lake located on Sydney’s northern beaches with my family.  It is a great place to paddle, and nothing beats watching the sunset over the lake after a lazy summers day on the water.

This all fits perfectly with my pursuit of long distance adventure racing, and mountaineering goals I have set myself.

Earlier this year I competed in the Coast-to-Coast race in New Zealand. A 243 kilometre traverse across New Zealand’s South Island, and Southern Alps, running, cycling, and kayaking. A tough, but rewarding race.

 On nutrition…

I think we over complicate it too much these days. For me it is meat and three vegies a couple of times a day, in addition to eggs, oats, and good quality milk.  It is a simple formula really, eat more than you burn and you put weight on, eat less and it comes off…just stick to a good quality diet, it usually works well…

 And the shed?

Well I gave away gyms many years ago, preferring to workout at home to my own music!

 TomO, our 12-year-old son, popped up with a camera this morning during my session, which I did to a great Australian rock band, The Angels, and he started shooting some pictures for something to do, so here they are!

Smothered in Cocky’s Joy

Camp Oven Scones

It doesn’t matter where in the world you travel you will always find someone baking bread. And there is nothing better than eating freshly baked bread…

It could be a baguette in a back street bakery not too far from Avenue des Champs-Élysées, or a Grissini expertly baked in the shadows of the Colosseum, it could even be one of the many Indian flatbreads, a Naan maybe, baking in a tandoori oven, or even an Injera in Ethiopia.

Freshly baked damper

In the Australian Outback where a never-ending blue sky meets the parched red soil it will be the drovers’ staple, a golden brown damper, kneaded and expertly worked before being baked in a camp oven, or maybe just over hot glowing coals…

A freshly cooked damper, still warm, is best eaten smothered in cocky’s joy, the residue running down your hands, waiting to be licked from your fingers…

Camp food… bonza mate!

You don’t know how lucky you are!

I was mentioning the other day about how excited (very excited) I am about an upcoming trip I have to New Zealand. I depart in two weeks to further my climbing and mountaineering experience in preparation for some upcoming trips to New Zealand and the Himalayas in 2013.  

Mt Aspiring, Southern Alps, New Zealand

I have a whole week climbing some smaller peaks in the Southern Alps of New Zealand’s south island, along with some ice-climbing, and we might even camp out if it isn’t too cold.

Anyway, over dinner last night, Janet, my partner, casually remarked to me…

“You don’t know how lucky you are.” 

It is a favourite saying in her family, but usually reserved for occasions when you have been spoilt, been very spoilt!

I’ve heard it often!

Sensibly, I approached the comment with caution, not sure if this was serious or mischief, although odds-on it was mischief in the making. It wasn’t my birthday, it was unlikely I was getting a gift or present, besides with all the climbing gear I have bought recently even TomO, our son, remarked that I had already received my Christmas presents…for the next few years! (note to self, tell Janet about the new back-pack)

“Have you thought about all the activities and holidays you are about to embark on?”

I sensed where this was heading and there was a cheeky glint in both of their eyes, but in the interest of self-preservation I played dumb, which isn’t too hard for me!

You see, we were due to have a holiday in April this year on a tropical island located in the island nation of Fiji in the romantic South Pacific.  As it turns out on the very island, Yasawa Island, that was featured in the movie Blue Lagoon.  However, due to extreme weather it had to be postponed to this September as you could not even get to the small resort by boat or plane at the time.

The holiday was planned as a thank you to Janet from her boys for putting up with one who is rapidly approaching puberty and the other that hasn’t grown up yet…

I’m sure you’ve got it figured who’s who in the zoo here…

Anyway, this is the cool bit.

I head to New Zealand and the tail-end of its winter on a Friday. The day after I return I am participating in Tough Mudder, a 20-kilometre commando style course peppered with obstacles that you have to jump over, climb over, hurdle flaming hay bales, and even get zapped by 10,000 volts after being submerged in ice-cold water (is that supposed to be fun?) and then, get this, onto Fiji the very next day.

Mind you, our flight to Fiji is at silly-o’clock in the morning, and there is a chance, okay a big chance, there will be a few beers after Tough Mudder, either that or I’ll be in the back of an ambulance or something similar suffering third degree burns, or hypothermia…

And Janet added,

“if that isn’t enough when we get home from Fiji we are going to the Blue Mountains, just to the west of Sydney, to do some climbing and abseiling for a few days”…

I’m betting that while TomO and I climb, Janet will be putting the credit card through its paces in the quaint galleries and dress shops that are a part of the Blue Mountains scene…

And who would I be to complain!

Yes, I don’t know how lucky I am…What do you think?

Get out of bed, you’re a champion…

I enjoy hearing and reading stories about people who are trying to change their lives, to get fit, to lose weight, to do something they have longed dreamed. Of goals that are set and milestones that are reached.

Accolades are usually not sought, momentous occasions in the journey often pass with little fanfare, the satisfaction gained enough to push them onwards, encouraging the next step.

It rarely comes easy…

As I rolled over and flicked the alarm off this morning, I lay back in the bed, tired, feeling like I should just roll the other way and forget about the rowing session. Surely it could wait until tonight, perhaps tomorrow morning? Anytime but now…

I’m betting we’ve all been there, I visit this speed-hump at least once a week and today was that day of the week.

And as I slowly drifted back into the dream-world I thought about my goals, what I want to achieve in mountaineering, even the possibility of competing in the Speight’s Coast to Coast again this coming February, an adventure race that crosses New Zealand from west to east.  It is a tough event, but I remembered how good I felt as I cycled through the city of Christchurch, the finish line almost in sight, bands playing, children clapping, men and women unknown cheering me to the finish line.

My tired legs pumped away, energised by the support, by the crowd that made me feel like a champion…

That was enough to break me free from my slumber, and I was up in the shed rowing within 15 minutes, and it was an awesome session.

Motivation, harness it however you can, reaching and achieving your goals is not an easy road, but you’re not alone…

One problem at a time Sarge. One problem at a time…

The other day I was caught up in what seemed to be a never-ending stream of problems, you know the sort of day.

Nothing was going right, everyone and everything was conspiring against me. One problem after another, mounting, crushing, the world on my shoulders, leaving me pleading why was this happening to me?

In reality the world wasn’t going to come to an end, the sun had risen in the east, and in all likelihood it was going to set in the west, and a few deep breathes would probably have dispatched the garbage that was mostly going on inside my head to the trash…

But it did get me thinking why do we allow seemingly insignificant problems to morph into something that requires the Fantastic Four to resolve?

Human nature was my guess.

And then I recalled a quote by Frank MacAlyster, a member of the US Military’s elite Delta Force. Frank was involved in an operation to help free US hostages being held inside the US Embassy in Tehran, Iran, in the early 1980s.

The story is recounted in the book ‘Inside Delta Force’, by Eric Hany.

As the doomed rescue attempt unfolded Frank was sound asleep in a US C-130 Hercules aircraft that was parked on the ground inside Iran.

He awoke to intense flames licking all around him, the aircraft was on fire.

Frank thought the aircraft was airborne, but the intensity of the fire left him no choice, he jumped from the plane without a parachute and went into a skydivers arch.

Of course he fell for only a fraction of a second before hitting the ground.

Frank had assessed his options and jumped. It must have taken a lot of courage. Death was almost a certainty, but he was buying time at least.

I reflected on this and thought that even under intense pressure Frank was still thinking through his problems he wasn’t letting the situation clutter his thinking, and by this time there were any number of problems to deal with. Of course the first was to survive.

What could I learn from that?

How could Frank’s experience help me as I pursue my goal of high altitude climbing, and how might it help others to deal with their own ‘burning aircraft’?

When asked a few days later by his Superior what he was going to do once he was out of the plane without a parachute, Frank replied…

“One problem at a time Sarge, one problem at a time.”

 

Slicing the water – with a blade

Narrabeen Lake, situated on the northern beaches of Sydney, Australia, is a beautiful spot by the ocean.

It is mecca for kayakers, windsurfers, and paddle board riders, a place where you can spend a lazy Sunday afternoon with family and friends under a shady tree…

 With very few power-boats on the lake, which is about 10 kilometres in circumference, it is my choice for kayaking and makes for a great change from the daily rows on my C2 rowing machine, although I did get a rowing session in earlier in the day – just call me a creature of habit.

Today started on the chilly side, but warmed into a beautiful day full of sunshine and a cloudless blue sky. A day to good to waste so Janet, my partner, packed a picnic lunch into ‘The Landy’ and we headed to the lake for a training session, a bit of fun, and quite a few laughs with our friends.

TomO, our 12 year-old son, was waiting in ambush, as usual, at the end of my paddle, ready to toss me out of the kayak, but he was a bit slow off the mark and missed his chance today. Just as well, as the water is still quite cold…

Narrabeen Lake, Sydney, Australia

Be sure to stop by the lake if you are visiting Sydney, and if you want to get out on the lake, drop in to see Matt Blundell, a world class kayaker, at his boat shed, Prokayaks. Matt will hire you a kayak, or paddle board and get you underway…

There is nothing better than kicking back and watching the sun settle behind the hills casting a golden hue over the lake, pure magic!

 

I hope you enjoy the clip of today’s paddle!!

 What did you do today?

Crikey – Turn that bloody thing off…

Blue Winged Kookaburra, Bowthorne Station, Gulf Savannah Land

There is a lot to like about our island continent, Australia.

Beaches that are counted among the best in the world, the brilliant red colour of the Outback set against a rich blue sky.

Our unique wildlife, kangaroos bounding across wide open plains, koalas sleeping in a lonely gum tree, and even a crocodile here and there…

But don’t worry, I’m not writing an advertorial for our local tourism authority, besides, I think Australia does a good job of selling itself…

No, what I am writing about is the world’s best alarm clock.

There is no need to set it, it comes in a range of colours, and is mostly uniform in shape and size…

No snooze button on this model though…

It does not make the usual mind-numbing BEEP…BEEP…BEEP, or gently awaken you to the sound of your favourite music.

But it will awaken you to the sounds of jovial laughter, perhaps leaving you to wonder whether you are still in that bar you were going to leave before the stroke of midnight…

The Shed

As the first sign of light began to show in the eastern sky, I wiped the sleep from my eyes and headed for the shed, my predawn exercise workout beckoning.

And that alarm was still laughing, mocking me, seemingly taking pleasure that it had dislodged another from the dreamworld that we all try to hold onto for those extra few minutes.

Yep, natures alarm clock, Australia’s own Kookaburra – you’ve gotta love ‘em…

(The one pictured is an example of a Blue-Winged Kookaburra photographed by Janet, my partner, on Bowthorne Station in the Gulf Savannah of Northern Australia.)