Recreation

On a Ledge – Where Eagles Dare (Where’s Baz)

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Where's Baz?

I was looking over some of the weekend’s climbing photos and I was admiring one in particular.  A beautiful shot of one of the walls we climbed.

 A very special place where you could just linger and contemplate the world passing you by.

Anyway, I looked at this photo, quite a few times and to my surprise, there I was sitting on a ledge, where eagles dare!

Janet, TomO, and I looked at this photo numerous times and none of us noticed me sitting there initially (story of my life!).

The photo was snapped by Nick, my climbing partner, after he lead climbed to our next pitch while I belayed him.

TomO

It reminded me of the special moments that TomO and I have had looking at his Where’s Wally books that I bought for me him. We loved them, and spent many hours flicking through the pages. And I was actually pretty good at it, maybe that is because I am colour-blind or something!

 So, can you pick out “Where’s Baz” in the photo…

Special moments, how good are they, hey?

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

Dope on a Rope (Just hanging out – in the Blue Mountains)

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Life in our household is just one big ball of fun, frivolity and adventure. And I must say, we work hard to make sure it is. 

Mind you I’m wondering who invented this work thing that seems to wedge itself between the fun days…

And if we do need to suffer this work thing, couldn’t have they come up with a better plan? I mean wouldn’t something like five days of fun, two days of work suit us all just a little bit better?

 Actually, I do like my job and I can’t complain too much. I have a great employer, work with a fun bunch of people and besides, it pays the bills and keeps TomO in X-box games.

Okay, yes, it is true, my boss does occasionally read this, so I like to toss him a bone every now and then!

Anyway, today, TomO managed to get through his first date emotionally unscarred, Janet read the Sunday papers on the couch with a hot cup of tea and Milo the wonder dog kept her company…

And long before they surfaced to see if the sun had risen today, I was on my way to the Blue Mountains for a day of abseiling and climbing. It was a fantastic day abseiling from Boar’s Head, and then climbing back out. It is quite a remarkable rock-formation situated not too far from downtown Katoomba.

I have been trying too do as much rope handling, abseiling, and climbing as I can ahead of the ascent of Mount Aspiring, in New Zealand’s Southern Alps this coming January.

The Blue Mountains is a fantastic playground, with something for everyone, and if you love adventure you could get yourself lost there for a thousand life times!

Crikey, I was just looking at some of today’s piccies and thinking, strewth Baz, you can’t even tie your own shoelaces and you’re hanging off the side of a cliff, with a rope you tied a knot in!

Clearly, I’m having better success with rope climbing knots, thankfully!

But back to work tomorrow and that’s another adventure altogether!

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

 

You wouldn’t be dead for quids – (How good is living)

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Baz – Boar’s Head, Blue Mountains, Australia

A beautiful day is once again shaping up in one of the world’s greatest cities, the Harbour City, Sydney, Australia.

The dogs have been fed, Janet and TomO are still in dreamland, and I’m heading to the Blue Mountains to climb and abseil at Malatia Point.

 This is a stunningly spectacular part of the mountains, not too far from downtown Katoomba, that will offer us a great view of the “Three Sisters” as we descend and climb.

And a big day for TomO, he’s meeting up with a couple of friends, with one eye on someone special, and heading to the movies – he’s as anxious as a gold fish in a blender!

Watching him grow and develop – You’ve just got to love it!

And Janet?

Well, she declared the couch and a book is her destination today, with a mug of hot tea!

Life, you wouldn’t be “dead for quids, hey”…

So what is happening in your part of the world today?

Ps: And remember, if all else fails – just stay out of control and see what develops…

No Ordinary Moments; No Ordinary People; No Ordinary Lives

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There are no ordinary moments, no ordinary people, no ordinary lives; no matter who you are, where you are, or what you are doing…

 I just thought I would put this out there today!

 And talking about no ordinary people, this is a photo of me with a village elder from the village of Menari, in the jungles of Papua New Guinea.

He is one of only a few remaining “fuzzy-wuzzy angels” who helped Australian and American troops in the fierce jungle battles along the Kokoda Track and other places along the Papuan Coast during the second world war.

 We have much to thank them for…

 Yes, no ordinary moments, no ordinary people, no ordinary lives!

Ps: And remember, if all else fails – just stay out of control and see what develops…!

Dope on a Rope – The Saga Continues (What – You can’t tie shoelaces?)

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Okay, confession time, I can’t tie my shoelaces.

Phew! That wasn’t too bad now I’ve finally got it off my chest, in fact, I don’t think I’ve ever admitted that before.

Actually, I did admit it to TomO, my 12 year-old son a few years back when he was struggling with the concept. And I recall being a little snookered at the time, especially when he asked for a demo of how it was done.

I just didn’t want to go there and let’s face it there are plenty of things that can mess around with a young mind and this didn’t need to be one of them. So I ‘fessed up and sent him to speak with his mother.

And speaking of his mother, I did mention it to Janet, as there was some risk of tripping over as I led her arm-in-arm down the aisle on our wedding day. Believe me, I’m assured of tripping at least once a week with the way I tie my shoelaces. Imagine the wedding shots with me sporting a black eye in them, all because I tripped on a rogue shoelace that had come undone.

I’m sure many would find the recounting of such a story funny, but I’d be the brunt of endless jokes down at the local football club.

“Hey Baz, you didn’t even get down the aisle and you’re sporting a black eye already”. Bluey and the boys would be on to me with the ferocity of a ‘pit-bull terrier’ nipping at your heels…”

I ran the gauntlet when playing football as a pre-pubescent teenager growing up in Townsville. The other boys were always impressed my mother turned up for every single game we played, always on the sideline cheering away, but of course I never told them that mum and I ducked around to the back of the sheds before the game so she could tie my boots up.

Only a loving mother could do that, and boy it saved me from embarrassment at a very delicate age. We won every game that year and the boys nominated mum as our lucky charm.

I think I can even trace back my life-long habit of sleeping without bed-clothes, you know, in the nuddy, due to this problem, despite telling Janet I was just a new-age type of guy. It did start a trend though…

Remember those flannelette pyjamas, the ones with the draw-cord that you had to tie off?

I still have nightmares over them and go into a cold-sweat whenever I pass a rack of jarmies at our local K-Mart store…

I used to tie them off in my usual way, but after a few tosses and turns in the bed my bow would become a knot.  Invariably I’d wake up needing to visit the little room, you know, the call of nature, make a quick dash down the hallway worried I might only just make it, only to find the knot at the last critical moment.

Talk about panic, sheer panic!

No one ever owned up to who hid the scissors in the little room, although I think mum has always suspected me.  Perhaps the tell tale sign was a severed cord in my pyjamas, but funny as it seems now, she never asked why I didn’t need any new pyjamas from that moment on.

And what about Dunlop Volleys, I had stacks of those in my young adult years. The first thing I did when I opened the box was to rip the laces out and throw them away, problem solved.  I thought it looked so cool walking around in them without laces. Mind you it should come as no surprise that I would put that sort of spin on it.

It did look cool, didn’t it?

I mean Janet never said it didn’t, but back then we were freshly wedded and you know how those things work, nodding yes, but thinking no! Mind you she never criticised those yellow pants I used to wear, well not back then anyway, but she’s managed to toss that one out there a couple of times recently…

These days if I had a pair of the old Dunlop’s on without laces someone would be offering me 5 bucks to buy some and telling me to keep the change to get myself a feed.

While we’re on shoes, how good are running shoes these days? The ones with the Quicklace for one pull tightening, no need to tie anything. I was right on to them when they first came out.

My running mates were impressed and I was singing their virtues so often that I’m sure they must have been thinking I was on some sort of retainer from the company. The unfortunate downside is they made my stockpile of Dunlop Volley’s redundant, after all how am I supposed to offload a dozen pair without shoelaces?

So by now you are probably thinking, okay Baz, bravo, but what’s with it? I’m sure there are others with a similar problem even if we’ve never come across them…

Well you see any mountaineer worth his or her salt will have a repertoire of some complex knots that they can perform blindfolded. And I’m sure there is one knot for every letter in the alphabet, and then a hundred more!

The girth hitch, a water knot, a figure eight fisherman’s knot, the munter hitch, and something called a stopper knot that sounds like it’s a pretty important one.

On a recent abseiling course my marker was finally called in…

I had a quick mental debate over whether I should admit to our instructor that I couldn’t tie my shoelaces, but thought better of it because it might be me first up on the rope after I’ve tied it off.

Besides, I’m sure there is a climber’s creed that says something like, you tied it, you try it!

And it would save them any embarrassment when under cross-examination in a coronial inquiry.

Imagine having to defend a fact that you allowed someone who could not tie their shoelaces to tie off the anchor points on top of the cliff that lead to the sudden demise of some poor family man with a dozen mouths to feed.

Yep, there’d be no doubting they’d be too smart to be caught out like that, so it was more likely to be me abseiling at 100 kilometres an hour with one end of the rope in each hand.

Mind you I did think of mum, but a fear of heights ruled her out. Besides, would I really want my mother with me asking have I got my handkerchief just as I’m about to abseil over the edge?

So here it was, my moment of truth. 

Actually it wasn’t too bad.

They all thought it was a great joke and everyone laughed loudly. Even though this was serious business it could still be fun and there is nothing like a rope joke to break the ice.

But the laughing floated away into the valley below when I explained it was true!

I could even see a couple of them processing this and clearly questioning in their minds whether it was in fact a tree root I tripped on as we made our way down to the cliff-face from the carpark. And like wandering eyes drawn to the busom of a woman in a low cut dress, they spent the rest of the day fixated on my shoes.

Our instructor was quite good about it really and offered some comforting words and said I shouldn’t worry as there are probably many people like me, and thinking they probably weren’t abseilers though.

As soon as I turned my back he was right on to those knots I tied. Strewth, I would have been if I was him, especially as he was clipped on a safety line that I had just tied-off. The colour drained from his face as he stepped back from the cliff edge, shaking visibly!

But we did work away at those knots; the figure eight was popular, very strong and guaranteed to hold everything in place, just as long as you got it right.  I practised away, at times feeling like I had a fistful of thumbs as I worked on those fisherman’s knots. But I was mastering it, on my way to becoming a pro!

And my rigging was successfully put to the test; but mind you I still have a problem of sorts.

I’ve been working so fervently on my climber’s knots that I still haven’t got around to working out how to tie my shoelaces.

Remember as a kid when you got your first pair of shiny black shoes?

I do. I refused to take them off for a week, even insisting on wearing them to bed despite being offered as much ice-cream I could eat in return for removing them.

You see I’ve been practicing my fisherman’s knot on my work shoes (Doh!) and anyone with even a basic understanding of knots will know the fisherman’s knot is designed to never come undone, something I overlooked as I was high-fiving TomO.

The penny dropped as I headed for a shower and I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry, and a couple of those naughty words did slip out.

But there we have it, tonight it looks like I’m going to bed with my shoes on for the first time in years and no amount of ice-cream is going to save the situation. I just need to broach the topic with Janet.

It’s kind of funny really; here I am dressed to the nines for bed in just my work shoes. Who would have thought my mountaineering journey would have a twist like this in it?

Am I alone on this one, or is there a huge group, inspired by my confession, about to come-out?

Come on; join the movement… if you belong, I’ve got some Dunlop Volley’s you can have for the asking!

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

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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)

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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!

 

 

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

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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!

I’m Excited, Very Excited – More tales of a dope on a rope

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Baz – Boar’s Head, Blue Mountains, Australia

I spent today spent in the wonderful Blue Mountains, just to the west of Sydney, doing a multi-pitch abseil and hike out. And what a wonderful playground to develop a high level of rope handling proficiency.

 Over the past two weekends I have concentrated on multi-pitch abseils of at least 250 metres done in sections (pitches) of around 40-50 metres each. And I’ve had my fair share of self-rescues thrown in without warning to ensure I have the necessary skills to do just that, rescue myself, or someone else, with confidence!

Boar’s Head, Multi-Pitch Abseil

I want to achieve an extremely high standard to ensure that when I am in Nepal next year, and eventually on an 8,000 peak, that my rope handling skills are completely second nature and can be done, quickly, safely, and confidently…

Under the watchful eye of the Shane and the fantastic team from the Australian School of Mountaineering I am well on my way to achieving this standard.

Mt Aspiring, Southern Alps, New Zealand

In less then two months I will be back in New Zealand for an attempt on the summit of Mt Aspiring, and without wanting to wish my life away – I can’t wait! But the journey can only be made one day at a time, and what a day it was.

There is nothing better than putting yourself in a position where you must simply trust the set-up you have built and locked yourself onto it…

The confidence to do this comes from practice, and the rewards are great. Simply lying back “into thin air”  and going over the edge is exhilarating.

Shane, Boar's Head, Blue Mountains, Australia
Shane, Boar’s Head, Blue Mountains, Australia

The Blue Mountains provides such a wonderful natural backdrop to pursue this activity.

 Boar’s Head, a natural rock formation was our abseiling destination of choice today.  It is a short walk-in from the main cliff-drive not too far from downtown Katoomba. And the vista at the start of it is spectacular, overlooking Narrow Neck, a prominent plateau that stretches to the south…

The total abseil is around 250 metres and we used two 60 metre ropes to drop to the valley floor in five pitches. The walk-out required some “scrub bashing” to join up with the main Devil’s Hole track, that took us back up to our transport.

Multi-pitch Abseil, Boar’s Head, Blue Mountains, Australia

The thick undergrowth made for a humid traverse of the gullies, before we started our climb up through Devil’s Hole.

I’ve tried to capture the beauty of the day in photos…hopefully it gives you a glimpse of our wonderful backyard and the fun we had, just being “Out and About”

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

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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)

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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)

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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?

Dope on a Rope (An ongoing saga of a mountaineering journey)

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Jamison Valley & the Three Sisters, Katoomba
Jamison Valley and The Three Sisters, Katoomba, Australia

Yesterday promised so much and I can happily say, it delivered.

 I have been itching to get out and about in the mountains since returning from my climb in New Zealand about one month ago and there is little that will beat a beautiful spring day in the mountains.

 I packed The Landy and was on the road by 7am heading to Katoomba in the Blue Mountains, about a 90 minute drive to the west of Sydney.

And the Blue Mountains is a great adventure playground. The area is an internationally recognised World Heritage Area where you can bush walk, mountain bike, abseil, climb and canyon in any number of spectacular locations.

As part of my mountaineering training I want to do plenty of multi-pitch abseiling to ensure I can do it quickly, safely, and with a high level of proficiency.

Malatia Wall, Katoomba
Malatia Wall, Katoomba

Our choice was Malatia Wall, which is not too far from the main street of Katoomba and close to the scenic railway, a very popular tourist destination.

The plan was to abseil into the Jamison Valley and walk back out via the Furber Stairs, a short, but very spectacular bush-walk which starts at the base of the scenic railway.

Bushwalking Katoomba
Katoomba Falls, Blue Mountains

The descent is around 230 metres in total requiring five abseils on two 60-metre ropes. On average each abseil was around 40-50 metres. On the first pitch I just had to stop on the wall and take in the view over the Jamison Valley and The Three Sisters. In the valley below cockatoos and lorikeets flew amongst the tall standing trees.

Overlooking the Three Sisters, Katomba
Malatia Wall, Multi-pitch Abseil
Three Sisters
Malatia Wall over looking the Jamison Valley

I marveled at the view as I hung in my harness.

 And if everything goes to plan I’ll be back up in the mountains next weekend to multi-pitch off of Boar’s Head, with a climb back out…

 And speaking of a Dope on a Rope, if the hat fits wear it I say – I forgot to charge my Go-Pro battery, so I had limited footage!

The Landy – Packed ready for adventure

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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.

Security is mostly a superstition (Isn’t it?)

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Living life to the fullest, taking risks, knowing your limitations, these are questions I frequently ponder. It isn’t something I dwell on, it is more of a musing from time to time.

And I have always been encouraged by the words penned by Helen Keller…

“Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in name, nor do the children of man as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all.”

Janet, my partner, thinks along the same lines and is always very supportive of the adventures I have undertaken. The only questions she usually asks are have you thought through the risks, prepared as best you could, and are you ready?

I’m fortunate to have someone so supportive. Mind you, Janet is no wall-flower when it comes to adventure and applies the same principles of risk assessment herself. Whether when she jumps from a plane, or abseils down a building!

My mountaineering goals are as high as the largest mountains that can be found. I want to experience the joy and satisfaction, the freedom and beauty that mountains can bring into our lives.

It is a personal thing, shared by many and what better place to do it than the majestic Himalayan Mountains…

And rest assured, I have no morbid fascination of pushing to the limits of flirting with death, I’ll be happy to slowly slide away peacefully when my time comes!

And I have been cogniscant of the impact it has on those around me,both negative and positive, and especially our son, TomO.

We want to bring him up in an environment where he is encouraged to pursue his dreams and to believe that anything is possible. We feel that this is possibly one of life’s most important lessons.

He is showing signs that he is heading down this path of thinking…willing to throw himself at life!

He has been keen to play tennis and took his first lessons the other day.  I was fortunate to be able to go and watch him, taking an early mark from work and I could see the enjoyment on his face.  Now it is fair to say he wasn’t the best out there, in fact his tennis skills are quite limited. He knew that, but wasn’t concerned.

Coming off the court he said, “Dad, I loved it and I had a lot of fun, even if I’m not very good. I just need to work on it.”

And that attitude pleases both Janet and me…

He isn’t concerned that someone is better, that his skills are lacking.

English: Mount Everest North Face as seen from...

I have a stated goal to climb Cho Oyu in 2014, which seems a long way off, but as we all know, time seems to fly-by so fast.  But in all honesty, Cho Oyu is part of a bigger journey and TomO casually asked me a few months ago whether I intend to attempt a climb of Mt Everest.

I wanted to be measured in my answer, but truthfully the answer is yes, so I just told him that.

Highlighting that it is a journey that may take me there, but it isn’t my real focus just at the moment. In fact, the journey isn’t about climbing Mt Everest either, but it hopefully will form part of the dream, the journey, to see what I am capable of…

One step at a time is what I told him and if it goes the way I would like, and I retain good health, then it might be a chance sometime in the next 2-3 years, maybe sooner.

Before climbing in New Zealand recently, TomO left me a note to say that one day he might be standing on top of Mt Everest with me.

He had obviously given it some thought…

I’ve spent some time reading that note over.

Perhaps it is a dream, a child’s feeling of wanting to follow in the footsteps of those close to them, to emulate them.

The other day I casually asked him was that truly a goal he would like to pursue? Asking what was his motivation to do it?

“Yes”, he said.  “How great it would be to experience that feeling of the mountains you have described to me, and doing it together makes it even better.”

He shows maturity beyond his age sometimes. Mind you, he is a 12-year old, so rest assured, not all the time!

Janet was there and we both told him there is plenty of time to think it through, although we highlighted that he will need to prepare for it if that is his dream, his desire…

Maybe the enormity of the task is lost on him presently and we will see how it unfolds. There is no pressure from us and we are ever so careful to ensure he understands that, no matter what it is he is pursuing. We are placing no expectations on him whatsoever, but endeavouring to help him understand it is important to develop and set your own expectations.

But it puts to the test our resolve to support him in any endeavour he wants to undertake.

Later, I asked Janet what she thought of “her boys” heading off to Mt Everest together?

Her reply was simple and uncomplicated.

“It scares me”, she said

“But if that time comes I will walk every step of the way to base camp with you, after all life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all.”

High Altitude Climbing and Acute Mountain Sickness

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I have been researching the impact that high altitude climbing will have on my body, what I can expect, what I can do to assist my body’s ability to cope, and importantly, to be able to recognise the onset of Acute Mountain Sickness in its more serious forms.

Acute Mountain Sickness, AMS as it is often referred to, is the effect the declining number of molecules of oxygen in the atmosphere has on our body as we ascend in altitude. It can range from a mild illness, to the more severe life-threatening forms of the illness, such as High Altitude Pulmonary Edema (HAPE), and High Altitude Cerebral Edema (HACE).

The latter two conditions require immediate attention and descent from altitude otherwise death is the most likely outcome.

I’m not intending to go into a great discussion on either, nor am I qualified to do so, but as part of my “journey to the mountains” and extreme  altitude climbing I want to gain a better understanding of both conditions.

High altitude is defined as 5,000 to 11,500 feet, very high altitude 11,500 to 18,000, and extreme altitude as 18,000 feet and above.  At extreme altitudes physiologic function will outstrip  acclimatisation eventually.

My reading has taken me across a wide variety of topics, but the one that caught my attention was the connection between muscle and the requirement to fuel our muscles with oxygen when under exertion.

Over the years I have trained as a power-lifter for strength purposes and I have achieved results I am happy with.  As a consequence I have grown muscularly and currently weigh-in around the 95 kilogram mark.  This has given me a good power-for-weight ratio and has enhanced my speed on the kayak, and rowing machine over the short to mid sprint distances.

Power-lifting has helped me develop strong legs, especially my quads through the nature of the exercise; squatting, and dead-lifting.  I can squat around 180 kilograms (400lbs) and dead-lift 220 kilograms (460 lbs).

Will this muscle help, or hinder me on the mountain as I trudge up the side of an 8,000 metre peak??

When exercising, the body, or more specifically the contracting muscles, have an increased need for oxygen, and this is usually achieved by a higher blood flow to these muscles.  And herein lies the dilemma as I see it.  Due to the less dense air at altitude the number of oxygen molecules for any given mass of air will drop. Consequently, mental and physical performance will decline. The larger the muscles, the larger the requirement for oxygen to prevent muscular fatigue…

So what can I do?

There is not a lot that you can do to prepare for the effect of AMS, some people will adapt and perform better at altitude than others, and this is hard to predict from one individual to another.

What I can do is decrease my muscle mass. Whilst that will mean a decrease in overall strength I can try and maintain the power for weight ratio balance.

The upshot of all this is that ahead of my climb in New Zealand in January, and later next year in Nepal where I will be climbing three 6,000 metre peaks, including Lobuche East, I will deliberately take around 12-15 kilograms out of my frame…

The climbs in Nepal will be done without the aid of supplemental oxygen.

Essentially, I will not change my training routine at all, I will maintain my same level of weight training, kayaking, rowing, and other activities. I have found the best way to control weight change, either gaining, or losing, is via the kitchen, and diet. In fact I won’t even modify my diet to any great extent, simply quantity control.

Narrabeen Lake, Sydney, Australia

If you have any thoughts on the topic I’d welcome your insight!

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

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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!

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

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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!

Dolphins at Play – Wananavu (Fantastic!)

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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!

Send a Saint Bernard (If you haven’t heard from me in a week)

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These last few weeks since I booked an impromptu trip to climb in the Southern Alps of New Zealand seemed to have flown by, literally.  There has been so much to organise and gear to be updated that I hardly noticed time passing…

I head off early Friday morning, flying across “The Ditch” into Queenstown in the South Island, before making my way by bus to Wanaka, about an hour’s drive away.

On Saturday I will be flying into the back-country by either helicopter or ski-plane with Dean Staples, Adventure Consultants Chief Guide for New Zealand. He has a first class climbing and mountaineering pedigree with 8 trips to the top of Mt Everest under his belt, and numerous other 8,000 metre peaks, including Cho Oyu, which is my goal for 2014.

Anyway, there will be no communication access, other than satellite phone for emergencies, so I’ll let you know how it goes, along with some pictures, when I return.

And, strewth, at the moment there is plenty of snow falling and the wind is so strong it would “blow ya dog off its chain”…

Incidentally, the day after I get back I am participating in Tough Mudder, which is billed as the “Premier Obstacle Course Series in the World”. I will be lining up with  my partner in crime and brother-in-law, dare I say, fellow adventurer, Ray Tong.

He’s a bit soft, a typical Kiwi, but I’ll get him through the day…and to the beer queue!

It is fair to say there is an unstated, vigorous, but friendly rivalry between us so it should be interesting. Ray will blow me away in the running, but I’ll have it all over him in the strength department…

Mind you, that is the beauty of these events, it requires teamwork to get you through.

And when I say return, what I really mean is that I will be updating from a near deserted island in the South Pacific. Yasawa Island in the Fijian Island Group.

Janet, TomO, and I fly out the day after Tough Mudder. So we’ll be lazing back on a coconut fringed beach for a week…

Okay, well TomO and I aren’t really known for just “lazing around” so we might find some adventure.

I’m sure we will…

And Janet, well we’ll make sure she is pampered in a manner deserving of such a loving partner, and mother, like royalty!

Strewth, she deserves it for putting up with all the day to day antics of “her boys” …talk about a Saint!

A Black Eyed Bruiser

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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…

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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…