Intrepid Adventurer

I woke up tired this morning.  Maybe fatigued is a better word - although fatigue is a hard one to define.  Aviation argues fatigue: chronic versus acute, tired versus fatigue itself, and when you use the word, people in offices shudder across continents.  Anyway, I woke up this morning feeling stiff in my joints and dusty behind my eyes, and disinclined to get out of bed.  Being on reserve with the phone resolutely silent, I had no reason to move, so stayed cuddling the Small until I felt motivated enough to get up for coffee.

I have a friend who wants to do a Sunset Beerwah tonight, and all possible excuses not to are bubbling through my mind.  I can’t find my black leggings and maybe I can say the others are all in the wash (half of this is true).  My shoes are wet from hiking yesterday (they are, but not the ones I wear on Beerwah).  My hip hurts too much to walk (it is aching but I expect still functional).  I don’t like climbing with you because you are slow and talk about annoying things that I have no interest in and also your voice itself is annoying (the absolute truth but cruel and therefore I will never say it).  I suppose I will have to do Sunset Beerwah tonight - unless Crewing magically find me a flight.  

Yesterday was Mount Cougal, a new one (two peaks) to cross off my list.  There is a second way up so maybe there will be a second climb, but we shall see.  

It was rainforest most of the way.

The instructions on Aussie Bushwalking were simple.  Stick with the fence until there is no more fence.

The fence.  A work of man being fought by nature, the rainforest taking back its own.

The fence, leading upwards to a cliff where it stopped, abruptly.

I don’t know who put the fence there, or what they were trying to keep in - or out.  It was mostly metal posts, dark rusting barbed wire and sometimes chicken wire.  The rainforest in places crushing it to the ground, barbed wire in piles under fallen trees.  A fence you criss crossed on the four kilometre ridge towards Cougal.  “Don’t hold on to the fence,” the instructions warned.  In the misty rainforest wet, the metal poles were loose and it was easy to see why you could accidentally use them for support while slip sliding through the leafy mud and tree roots.

At the cliff, the instructions told us to go to the right and climb up it, which was easier said than done.  The weather consistently dripped on us, the rocks were slippery with moss and mud, and the whole peak appeared as though a dump truck had unloaded potting compost over it.  Often ankle deep in the rich dark brown mulch, we scrambled onwards.  It was a slow ascent - and an even slower descent.  The white out was complete, the dense inside of the cloud enveloping us in its wetness.

Our first view from the East Peak

We had passed two hikers on their way down - others equally mad as ourselves.  They warned they had only attempted the East Peak due to the whiteout and their not wanting to get lost trying to get across to the West Peak.  We scoffed in our minds and continued to explore.

There were several trails leading from the East Peak.  We chose one - no wait, B chose one, and I said “are you sure this is the right way” and he said “yes, it definitely is,” and so we went, sticking religiously to the orange markers tied to trees, and going down, down, down... until we checked the map and saw we were heading off the ridge down towards Currumbin...

Scrambling up again through the deep brown mulch and rotting branches was hard work, but we made it back to the ridge for another track, this time marked with Pink Ribbons.  Back at the East Peak, the clouds parted briefly to show us our goal.

The West Peak of Cougal

Then another wave of clingy white swept through, but at least we knew which direction to head.  This time the track was even easier to follow, although equally unpleasant underfoot.

Giant spear lilies on the trail (and B)

There was no view from the West Peak, it being covered in long grass and rainforest trees.  I didn’t even get my phone out for a picture as the dampness was all pervading.  We put our sweaters on and sat for a bite of lunch, but decided quickly that it was too cold to stay any longer!

Back at the East Peak, it finally stopped raining for our five kilometre trek back to the car.

Quite an adventure trying to descend the muddy rock face in the misty wet

We paused above the fence to find a cave.  It wasn’t easy to spot, being behind a rock face, but once found, it was quite fun.  A narrow - but tall enough to walk through - opening, continuing maybe ten metres through the rock, and at the end a small light patch announced the very other side of the peak.  It was too small to wriggle through so we had to exit the way we came.

Inside the cave 

A very large gecko - maybe 15-20 centimetres - that sat perfectly still as we passed in both directions (head on the left) 

Us in the cave

On that note, crewing literally just called me to go to Hamilton Island, and I am incredibly excited both to go to work and to go somewhere fun... oh and to not have to do Sunset Beerwah.

Sorry, I got sidetracked... 

Coming back through the rainforest was immense.  So many amazing trees, and the biggest strangler figs I’ve ever seen.

A dead tree across our path

A huge strangler fig so old the tree inside had completely disappeared

Looking upwards at the top of the two strangler figs

Looking back at Cougal’s peaks on the left and Boyd’s Butt (yes, I know) on the right

The sky had cleared significantly by then so we could actually see where we were going, coming out of the rainforest.  The trail cut across high grassy fields, choked by lantana, then through patch of wild sugarcane.  Someone must have hacked it down with a machete to make the trail.

The low and overhung trail through the sugarcane

There is just something about hiking through the rainforest.  The smell is unique, especially after the rain.  The ground is soft and bouncy, the green is so very green.  The vines thicker than my arm that hang impossibly between trees.  The downsides being the all pervading wetness and the ticks - I was lucky, but B got one on his neck (surgery was successfully performed back at the house).  We will definitely return, probably attempting the Currumbin trail.

And now... now I must get back into Work Mode after a long weekend off, and find my way to Hamilton Island!

Updates n things

Despite my father, who shuns footwear of all types and prefers to walk on thorns and other things, I bought a new pair of shoes today.  These ones are running shoes.  I think I may be getting a little bit obsessed with the whole exercise thing but there could be worse addictions, right?  Unfortunately, my obsession with Eating Unhealthy Food continues also, so I’m unlikely to win any competitions any time soon.

I started running again a couple of weeks ago, as I was feeling frustrated about the climbing down time forced by reserve days.  Running so far has been ok with my neck, and it’s nice to get back into it.  I had bought some trail runners for my non-scramble hiking (as the rubber on my approach shoes is soft and therefore wears quickly) and hoped they would also work for regular running, but they are designed for running off-road and definitely don’t have the required cushioning for concrete.  (I know, I tried)

So now I am the proud owner of a pair of on road running shoes... yes, Dad, I could go barefoot, but I won’t.  And as tomorrow is a reserve day, I shall run in them.  Today I forced myself to rest.  Yesterday’s 20k hike before work has fatigued my legs and despite the new shoes, the legs needed recovery time!

On the work front, all is good - great, even.  I despise reserve days with no call outs (today being one of them) and long to fly.  It is strange feeling so excited about going to work still... long may it last!  Next month marks the six month point in the new job and I am as happy as the day I started.  Hurrah!

I mean, add to that the fact that I get to go on epic hiking adventures on overnights... hehe.  Yes, the rest of the crew thought I was mad - and probably rightly so, but I got to enjoy almost five hours of rainforest hiking, so I think I win.

Next week I have a three day trip with an Adelaide overnight and I am considering hiking down there too... I need to do some planning and find out how far away from the hotel Mt. Lofty is.  Hmm.

Anyway that’s about all, folks... I leave you with this picture of my darling child:

I also am pining for ramen and there are no ramen shops near where I live.  Gah.  

Just thought you should know...

I would like it to be noted that a hiker has been hospitalised in Ireland after being hit by a falling sheep.  Now, if anyone has any comments about how “dangerous” my antics are, I refer you back to the previous sentence.  Also, there are no sheep on the Glasshouses so I feel relatively safe.

There are, however, plenty of ill prepared tourists and loose rocks, which coupled together could potentially be more hazardous than sheep.  I try to avoid climbing at weekends so as to mitigate this risk.

Last night, we climbed up Beerwah for sunset and boy, was it a sunset.  I took some nice photos and a time lapse of the sun actually setting, and we made good time both up and down.  It is actually quite safe and easy to descend in the darkness with the help of a good headtorch.

Next time, I am going to climb Tibro for sunset.

Tragically, a young hiker died on Tibro last week, having climbed too late, unprepared, and strayed off track on the descent and then fallen off a cliff.  A girl was rescued just this past weekend who found herself in a similar quandary - but thankfully called for help before getting in worse trouble.  Apparently there have been 160 rescues from the Glasshouses over the last year which is a pretty crazy and expensive statistic, seeing that a lot of them involve vertical rescue crews and helicopters.  

In my backpack, I have a first aid kid, head torch (and last night a spare headtorch AND spare batteries), two bottles of water, energy bars (or bananas), and sunscreen.  I always recommend to other people climbing that they carry this, and I always recommend never going up without somebody who has done it before.  The number of people I have helped off Beerwah and Tibro is quite high - and these are all beginners / tourists.  

The problem is that if these statistics keep rising, the likelihood is that these mountains will be closed to the public, which would be ever so sad.  They aren’t dangerous, if treated with the respect they both deserve and demand.  

And if the mountains are closed, how will we be able to bathe in sunsets such as these? 

Cinderella

Last night I took a friend to the ballet for her birthday. A slightly late birthday present due to rosters and nothing being on, but we got there in the end.  Cinderella is only playing for a week, and we went on Opening Night.  

K wanted me to wear a dress but as I didn’t feel comfortable I said no (that’s the kind of friend I am) and settled on “jeans and a nice top.”  I was going to push the boat out and wear my nice boots but when I got them out of the cupboard they disintegrated in my hands.

Here’s the thing: it’s hard to dress up on occasion when you never ordinarily dress up.  Let’s face it, I wear a combination of uniform, work out gear, and pyjamas, and sometimes two out of three at once.  There’s not really space in my busy schedule for more.  If I’m not flying, I’m on a mountain, and if I’m not on a mountain, I’m probably in bed.  So my boots, nice that they were, once upon a time, had sat in that cupboard for the last year or two, gently rotting.

Having come to the conclusion that I couldn’t wear boots that were literally flaking apart in my hands, I had to turn to my reliable Converse.  Except, even they weren’t Converse, being a €7 Primark knockoff.  I know, I’m a terrible person, but needs must.  High heels (the one pair that I own) weren’t going to match my jeans, and also I can’t walk in heels so there was no way I was going to actually make it to the theatre that way.  RM Williams or Approach Shoes?  No problem, kind sir.

I’m going shoe shopping today.  (Too little, too late?) 

Anyway... having settled on the Converse I figured I’d jazz it up a bit and wore make up and hoopy earrings and a bracelet and painted my hair pink at the front because, you know, if you aren’t trying 100% why are you here at all?  And left the house in plenty of time to pick up K, who lives down the street from me, and across the bridge from the train station.

She wasn’t ready.

In fact, she wasn’t even dressed.  And I was looking at my watch realising the train was leaving in 6 minutes and freaking the very *^%< out.  

It does my anxiety no good at all when something is completely and utterly out of my control.

I made a lot of loud noises and a lot of “hurry up we need to go NOW” and dragged her kicking and screaming from the house (Slight exaggeration?  Poetic license?) and drove at 90kmh over the 60kmh overpass because the train was leaving in 3 minutes, and as we parked in the carpark we saw the train coming over the hill.  Cue a mad run to the the station and over the bridge and swiping my “Go Card” on the run without even checking to see if it worked, because I wasn’t missing that train for anyone.  And we got on board, and K said “but if we missed the train I could’ve driven us so it didn’t matter” and my anxiety almost strangled her with its bare hands on the spot.

But thankfully my anxiety remained inside my body and breathed a little and managed to calm down and enjoy the rest of the evening.

We obviously weren’t allowed to take photos during the performance

And while we are talking about the rest of the evening, let’s talk about the Ballet.  I really enjoyed the Nutcracker a couple of years ago and thought Cinderella would be the same: but I forgot that there’s very little in the story of Cinderella.  Here we go:

Cinderella’s daddy marries an evil woman with two ugly daughters, and all three Nasty Females bully Cinderella and her daddy doesn’t stick up for her.  A fairy godmother / queen / witch / something turns up and Cinderella is nice to her but the others are not.  A prince throws a ball and the Ugly Stepsisters attend and Cinderella is not invited.  The fairy godmother turns mice and pumpkins and things into a carriage and Cinderella goes to the ball, but she must leave by midnight.  She only just gets away in time but drops a glass slipper (really? Glass?  I can’t even look after pleather properly) and the prince goes around the houses afterwards trying to fit it on people (because he didn’t spend much time looking at her face?  Typical male.).  Cinderella eventually tries the shoe on, it fits, and he realises that she is the one.  The End.

How long did it take you to read that?  Now imagine it told through ballet, with no talking.  Well, there was no talking in the description either, so that’s ok.  The Ugly Stepsisters were well done and funny, the ballet part was fine too, but it was neither exhilarating nor breathtaking.  There was nothing in the performance that said Wow.  Nothing particularly memorable, and I’m sorry, but it needed that.  They danced well, and yet was it with heart and soul?  We are only talking about Cinderella, of course, maybe that doesn’t demand more.  But it did therefore mean that I left with my heart and soul intact, and indeed feeling for the last half hour or so that I would prefer to be asleep in bed.

Once home, I remembered why I don’t usually wear makeup (how do you Real Females get the stuff off) and have probably left a ridiculous amount of pink on my pillow despite attempts to clean my hair.

It was an enjoyable evening out, and I’m not complaining, I’m just glad I don’t make an effort very often.  Maybe I need some Classy Friends to teach me Class, or maybe it’s just better on the top of a mountain - where I’m not, as it’s raining, so I started reading the FCOM instead, but then got distracted by this blog.

You’re welcome.