Month: April 2011

Our poolside campsite

Sundown is Spiderland

Sundown, on the Queensland/New South Wales border, is largely trackless. The northern entrance is four-wheel drive-only; the Broadwater end where we entered has a small camping area on the banks of the Severn. Further exploration is via the banks or the side-creeks snaking through narrow gorges into the hills.

'Ema' wooden tablets, Mitake shrine

Bastard Dogs of Backwoods Japan

There is something about my appearance that brings out the worst even in a normally well-mannered dog. It may have to do with my hunched-up pack or rapid gait. Or the way I swing my arms. Perhaps dogs know intuitively that I dislike the sound of a bark as much as the cry of babies or Siamese cats. Or it could be that I just look and smell a bit trampish. Whatever the reason I view all dogs on the loose as potential assailants… ~ John Hillaby, ‘Journey Through Europe‘ I have been harassed by dogs while walking on four continents.They are easily my least-favourite local fauna. I have nothing against the creatures in theory — the idea of them. I’ve had a few mutts in my life and we got along nicely. But Mr Hillaby might be right about the pack: It sets the buggers off. Many’s the time I’ve been grateful that I usually walk with trekking poles. But even pack-less, they will often take me on, or at least give me a …

Goal: coffee

Footprints in the Dew

It’s cooling down — at last — and my cold seems to be abating. After a week of illness, and several of turmoil before that, my spirits are creeping upwards again. I resumed pre-work strolling this morning — I could call it ‘exercise’ or ‘training’ but that would be insulting for those doing the real thing. I just love mornings, always have, and a walk along the waterfront just before dawn trickles over the horizon is as good a way to start a working day as I’ve yet found.

Stingray hole, low tide

Skinny Legs & Aqua-Hiking & All

I was cursed with skinny chicken-bone legs, which presented no problems in my pre-hiking life as a sport-loathing, book-reading, tight-black-jeans-wearing, rock’n’rolling kinda fellow. Since my discovery of the pleasures to be found in mountains, forests and on long, rambling perambulations, however, I have often wished I had sturdier, more reliable limbs which would follow orders without complaint.