Sunday, December 21, 2008
Tahune Airwalk
Mt Wellington
Port Arthur



Bruny Island
Monday, December 8, 2008
Catching Up

Since our walk up to Hartz Peak we’ve had more rain and cloud and wind… funny how one beautiful day every couple of weeks seems normal now. Mum & Dad met us at Mt Field last Monday and we’ve enjoyed seeing them. We went for a drive up to Lake Dobson (in the Mt Field NP) one afternoon and by the time we got to the top it was snowing! We went for a walk around the Lake and it was

We’re at Bruny Island at now, but no walks or photos yet. Dazz, Mum & Dad have gone out on the boat tour today, but I’ve had too many bad, sea-sick boat experiences to even want to go. Hopefully they bring back some good photos.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Hartz Peak


Monday, November 24, 2008
More wet pants, and recognising the fish whistle
There are few sights more pitiful than a man standing outside the caravan holding his track pants demanding dry undies… except maybe noticing said man talking to the neighbours holding aforementioned track pants in hand… yes, unfortunately this is a new story, and not a repeat of a previously regaled episode.
On this occasion the protagonist was going kayaking. The weather was cloudy, but calm, and there were no signs of the impending disaster. Of course, there was the usual back and forth and in and out of the van associated with such a venture. ‘Where’s such and such?’ or ‘Have you seen the thingy whatsit?’ The kayak had been taken across the road (i.e. dirt track through the camp ground) to the little beach about 20 metres from where we’re camped, and as he put it in the water it splashed up inside. Being a cooler day, and wanting to minimise wetness to his posterior, he popped back to the car to get a rag to wipe it up.
Being happily oblivious to the happenings outside I glanced out the window and was greeted by the baffling sight mentioned earlier. ‘How odd’ I thought to myself, coming to the conclusion that he must be now ready to set out, and had decided to take off his long pants (usually worn as sun protection) and wear shorts. Still, he would normally change closer to the van, rather than stand pant-less talking to neighbours… I returned to whatever it was I was doing until the van door suddenly burst open.
I need dry undies!
What? (Is this déjà vu???)
Do I have to explain?
YES!
I fell in.
HOW?
I came back to get a rag, and then the people were yelling, and then when I got back the tide had come in really quickly and the boat was on its way to Antarctica…
So he did what is apparently done in an emergency and whipped his pants off, retrieving the boat and only managing to wet the bottom half of his shirt and inside fleece vest. (What was he doing wearing his inside fleece in the boat? ‘I couldn’t be bothered changing.’)
In his words, ‘I’ve spent our whole time away initiating with people, and the one time people actually initiate with me I’m in wet undies holding my pants! They wanted to know about the kayaks – how much they cost, do we like them, etc, so I just tried to pretend that nothing out of the ordinary was happening [Ed. - The sad thing is, this is becoming ‘not out of the ordinary’.] and just chatted…’
I am very pleased to report that the following day we both went kayaking without any pant-removing incidents (although there was a minor emergency when he thought he had a big stinging ant in his dacks, and they were briefly half removed...).
Yesterday he went out fishing and when he came home whistling my first thought was ‘sounds like a happy whistle – maybe he caught something’. That was closely followed by another ‘I hope he’s not holding his pants and pretending that nothing’s wrong’ thought… I cautiously peered out the window to be greeted by two fish – barracuda. I’m sure I ordered salmon. He did have another big fish on apparently, but it was so big it snapped his line… another lost lure in the line of duty. At least now I know what the ‘I’ve caught a fish’ whistle sounds like.
On this occasion the protagonist was going kayaking. The weather was cloudy, but calm, and there were no signs of the impending disaster. Of course, there was the usual back and forth and in and out of the van associated with such a venture. ‘Where’s such and such?’ or ‘Have you seen the thingy whatsit?’ The kayak had been taken across the road (i.e. dirt track through the camp ground) to the little beach about 20 metres from where we’re camped, and as he put it in the water it splashed up inside. Being a cooler day, and wanting to minimise wetness to his posterior, he popped back to the car to get a rag to wipe it up.
Being happily oblivious to the happenings outside I glanced out the window and was greeted by the baffling sight mentioned earlier. ‘How odd’ I thought to myself, coming to the conclusion that he must be now ready to set out, and had decided to take off his long pants (usually worn as sun protection) and wear shorts. Still, he would normally change closer to the van, rather than stand pant-less talking to neighbours… I returned to whatever it was I was doing until the van door suddenly burst open.
I need dry undies!
What? (Is this déjà vu???)
Do I have to explain?
YES!
I fell in.
HOW?
I came back to get a rag, and then the people were yelling, and then when I got back the tide had come in really quickly and the boat was on its way to Antarctica…
So he did what is apparently done in an emergency and whipped his pants off, retrieving the boat and only managing to wet the bottom half of his shirt and inside fleece vest. (What was he doing wearing his inside fleece in the boat? ‘I couldn’t be bothered changing.’)
In his words, ‘I’ve spent our whole time away initiating with people, and the one time people actually initiate with me I’m in wet undies holding my pants! They wanted to know about the kayaks – how much they cost, do we like them, etc, so I just tried to pretend that nothing out of the ordinary was happening [Ed. - The sad thing is, this is becoming ‘not out of the ordinary’.] and just chatted…’
I am very pleased to report that the following day we both went kayaking without any pant-removing incidents (although there was a minor emergency when he thought he had a big stinging ant in his dacks, and they were briefly half removed...).
Yesterday he went out fishing and when he came home whistling my first thought was ‘sounds like a happy whistle – maybe he caught something’. That was closely followed by another ‘I hope he’s not holding his pants and pretending that nothing’s wrong’ thought… I cautiously peered out the window to be greeted by two fish – barracuda. I’m sure I ordered salmon. He did have another big fish on apparently, but it was so big it snapped his line… another lost lure in the line of duty. At least now I know what the ‘I’ve caught a fish’ whistle sounds like.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
We’re finally back walking... and feeling it!
It’s been exactly three weeks since our Mt Field NP adventure walk, and today we’re feeling the effects of three weeks of sitting at computers and then doing a 15km walk. We’re both stiff and sore today, even though the walk to South Cape Bay was an enjoyable stroll with no steep bits or boulders to clamber over.
We spent most of our time marking at Bothwell, which was a friendly, quiet little town. Last week we stayed in Franklin for a few nights, and did some drives around the area. It was beautiful and green, in contrast to Bothwell, which was quite dry. The Huon River beckoned, but it was too windy to bother with the kayaks.
We’re now camped at Cockle Creek and are a stone’s throw from the water of Recherche Bay, with the calm, clear waters of Cockle Creek a few hundred metres away. Yesterday was sunny so we did the walk to South Cape Bay (nothing between us and Antarctica - and yes, the water was icy), knowing that rain was forecast for the next few days. It’s such a pretty spot that we’ll probably stay here a while, and try to do some kayaking and
fishing.



Friday, October 31, 2008
Mt Field
We realised when we arrived at Meadowbank Lake that we were quite close to Mt Field, and because it was too windy to get out the kayaks, and because the car batteries needed charging, and because Thursday was forecast to be fine (with a great big high over the whole state!) we decided to go for a drive over there on Wednesday to see what day walks there were. The Ranger told us that there were good views on the K Col – Tarn Shelf walk, and even though there was some rock hopping it was no worse than Marion’s Lookout (at Cradle Mountain)…



Then we started going up again… and came across more rocks, and then more snow. It was slow going (especially for the little lady, because when her legs get tired they slip really easy and she didn’t fancy wet boots, or a foot down a crack in the rocks).
Nine hours, innumerable rocks, quite a few snow drifts, 800 metres of total ascent, almost 19 kilometres, and a platypus planning in the lake later, we arrived back at the car, exhilarated but exhausted!
The wonderful weather of the Apple Emirate


Friday, October 17, 2008
Our favourite walk so far





Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Fishing... if only there were photos!
A fishing licence is required for inland waters, and now that the season has started, and we were headed inland, Dazz became the proud owner of a full season fishing licence last week. Camping just a hop, skip and a jump from the edge of Lake Mackintosh provided the perfect opportunity for him to have his first attempt at trout fishing.
First, the preparation...
Find the fishing rod and reel (buried in various black holes in the car).
Get spinner lure out of the box.
Come inside van.
Go back outside.
Come inside again.
Go outside.
Find 'lost' spinner between pant leg and gum boot (missed the pocket).
Come back inside to get swivel.
Discover a whole box of fishing tackle that's been in the cupboard.
Go back outside.
Come back inside to get the other swivel thingy.
Go back outside.
Come back inside to get some snacks to take fishing.
Etc...
Then the code...
"If I come back whistling this [whistles a made up tune] I've caught something."
"If I come back whistling this [whistles a different made up tune] I haven't caught anything."
Then ensued a period of peace and quiet with a crossword, to be rudely interupted by:
Stomp, stomp, stomp up the hill and bursting into the caravan - note there was no whistle - there he stood in the kitchen with half his clothes in hand.
What happened?
"I got a snag and fell in."
[At this point the observer started laughing, and laughed so hard she could hardly breathe.]
"It's not funny."
[More gasps, trying to breathe.] "But how...?"
"It's NOT funny."
"HOW?"
"I need dry underwear."
[More laughter.]
This went on for what seemed an eternity before the truth emerged. He got a snag, took off his long pants to wade into the water to try to unhook it. Decided it was getting too slippery and deep (and cold), but slipped anyway as he came out.
The spinner was lost, and there were no fish that day.
In spite of this shaky start he has been fishing again, but I am still yet to hear the whistle for 'I've caught one'... not that I can remember how it goes, or how to distinguish it from the other whistle... I always jsut assume the whistle I hear is the negative one.
First, the preparation...
Find the fishing rod and reel (buried in various black holes in the car).
Get spinner lure out of the box.
Come inside van.
Go back outside.
Come inside again.
Go outside.
Find 'lost' spinner between pant leg and gum boot (missed the pocket).
Come back inside to get swivel.
Discover a whole box of fishing tackle that's been in the cupboard.
Go back outside.
Come back inside to get the other swivel thingy.
Go back outside.
Come back inside to get some snacks to take fishing.
Etc...
Then the code...
"If I come back whistling this [whistles a made up tune] I've caught something."
"If I come back whistling this [whistles a different made up tune] I haven't caught anything."
Then ensued a period of peace and quiet with a crossword, to be rudely interupted by:
Stomp, stomp, stomp up the hill and bursting into the caravan - note there was no whistle - there he stood in the kitchen with half his clothes in hand.
What happened?
"I got a snag and fell in."
[At this point the observer started laughing, and laughed so hard she could hardly breathe.]
"It's not funny."
[More gasps, trying to breathe.] "But how...?"
"It's NOT funny."
"HOW?"
"I need dry underwear."
[More laughter.]
This went on for what seemed an eternity before the truth emerged. He got a snag, took off his long pants to wade into the water to try to unhook it. Decided it was getting too slippery and deep (and cold), but slipped anyway as he came out.
The spinner was lost, and there were no fish that day.
In spite of this shaky start he has been fishing again, but I am still yet to hear the whistle for 'I've caught one'... not that I can remember how it goes, or how to distinguish it from the other whistle... I always jsut assume the whistle I hear is the negative one.
Montezuma Falls – Rosebery




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