Home Safe

• My pack was four kilo’s heavier just from the mud I picked up.
• I didn’t get snowed on, but I did stand hip deep in mud.
• I did two river crossings – the second one with my full pack on my back.
• I’ve seen an eagle soaring above me while there were clouds below me.
• I’ve waded in a lake, with a pink beach, at the top of a mountain.
• I understand why Tasmanian bushwalkers wear shorts and gaters.
• I discovered it is sometimes worth 8 hours hard slog in muddy bogs to climb a mountain.

I love my bed.

Three reasons to do that big walk.

Do you have a big walk?  The Kokoda Track, the Appalachian Trail or Milford Sound… the whole Australian Alps Track from Walhalla to Namadgi.  It doesn’t matter if you’ve never hiked in your life, I bet you’ve seen a documentary or an article and thought “Wow, that would be awesome to do some day.”

Or maybe you’re like my friend Leanne.  When I told her I was going hiking in Tasmania over Easter, she laughed and looked at me like I was an alien.  She only sleeps under five stars.

Whether your idea of a long walk is a day trip up Cradle Mountain or a two week trip on the Bibbulman track, I think you should pack your bag and go for it.  It’s such a different form of travel, and such a different form of exercise.  I could talk about resistance training and natural movement and health benefits.  But for me the biggest benefits are only tangentially related to health.  Here’s my reasons:

1. There’s a special kind of joy in doing something significant and physical.  Reaching the top of a mountain allows me to enjoy the strength of my body and my own abilities.  You probably get the same thrill from a good bouldering session, or a perfect basketball swoosh.  But when it takes you all day to get somewhere, it’s somehow sweeter and more lasting.
2. You’re part of the landscape.  I love 4WD trips and motor boats, but when you are on foot the only noise is your breathing.  You don’t need a road.  You’re much more intimately aware of your surroundings.  I find a deeper connection with the land – a very tangible grounding.  The further into the bush you go, the longer you are there, the stronger and more lasting this is.
3. Movement as meditation.  Something about movement unsticks your thoughts – I don’t know why, but it works.  I get distance and new perspectives and weird connections when I’m walking.  I solve the world’s problems and sometimes my own.

On that note, I’m off to Tasmania tomorrow morning, disturbingly early.  I’m looking forward to some beautiful scenery, but I’m a little concerned about the cold (it could snow on us!).  But mostly I’m excited to be out in the wilderness for three whole days, with amazing friends and my life in my pack.

No longer scared of snakes

On our big hike over the Canberra Day weekend, I thought a lot about leading and following.  But in between the deep and meaningful moments and slogging up hills, I got over my fear of snakes.  How, you may ask?

I ran into SIX of the slithering little suckers.

Here’s some other things I learnt:

1. When you spot a snake in the bush and yell, your friends come running with their cameras.  This is completely silly, because he’s already slithered off.
2. When you nearly stand on another snake, and it disappears, you think your friends will think you’re crazy.
3. When the third snake appears and zips back into the grass, you start to assume all snakes are hallucinations.
4. When the fourth snake stays around long enough for everybody to see, you are incredibly grateful.
5. After that, you find it hard to muster either sympathy or surprise when your other friends run into their own slithery friends.

Follow the leader

I’m so glad Chris posted about being an influential follower.  I’ve had a post percolating for a couple weeks about why I hate bush bashing, and it seems like a good time to share it.

Two weeks ago on an over-night hike near Kiandra, we were picking our way down a really steep slope.  Mary was in the lead, navigating by dead reckoning and the help of a compass.  I was wondering how she managed to watch her feet and the direction at the same time, when I snagged my boot lace on a stick and nearly went splat.  I was very happy there was no-one behind to watch.   

So I’d like to share my list of reasons to follow someone else:

1. The leader walks into all the spider webs, and scares away most of the snakes.  Usually by accident.
2. Navigating is a thankless task.  Everyone second guesses you, and when you get it wrong there’s always words.
3. It’s really nice to be able to watch your feet and the scenery instead of the bearing you’re on.
4. If you stay a few metres behind the leader, you can watch how they climb over and around obstacles and maybe spy out a better path.
5. A few metres further back again, and you don’t have to hike so far up the hill when they realise you’re in the wrong gully.
6. There’s no-one behind you to watch you go splat.

I’m sure there’s a lot of satisfaction in leading a hike, and more in being the first to the top of the hill.  But I still got there, minutes behind, and enjoyed the same pleasure in the view.