Showing posts with label Travelling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Travelling. Show all posts

‘Unprecedented’: COVID Tales 2




Sunday the 22 March was an important date for Australians. Our slightly disheveled looking Prime Minister Scott Morrison (he probably had a tough day at the office) faced the aggressively questioning journo David Speers on the ABC. Without getting into politics, I must say that Scott stood up to the challenge and sounded prime ministerial. This was the interview that changed Australia forever – changed everything we were planning with our lives, “these are ‘unprecedented’ times” we were told. Covid 19, the shutdown of our nation.

After taking off from Alice Springs in September 2019 our journey wasn’t what we had hoped for. We left in the middle of a drought in full swing. The red desert was dry and the grass was dead. Decomposing cows a regular, but upsetting, sight in paddocks. A pile of empty white skin all that was left of the Brahmin cows that stood once proudly in our land of plenty. Scorching ‘unprecedented’ temperatures, well over forty degrees. Climate change on the forefront of our minds.

Queensland wasn’t much better in the heat. Creeks dried up; whole forests looked brown, just dead.  Our Australian mammals stopped reproducing; birds fighting over scraps battling to survive.

A kookaburra checking out our campsite for food

Then the fires started. We found ‘unprecedented’ fires throughout the east coast right on our path - on our way South. Houses were burned to the ground, Whole species of animals we don’t know anything about were wiped out. Who can forget the images of the Koalas? Many people lost their homes. Even rainforest started to burn. We lost firefighters in unbelievably tragic circumstances.


We were in Airlie Beach, in heaven that wasn’t, stuck and undecided. Go and help or stay out of everyone’s way. It became a frustrating sometimes difficult conversation. One doesn’t travel well when the world collapses. To just galivant through peoples scorched backyards doesn’t seem respectful and is a guilt laden experience.

The fires made way for intense flooding when the heavens finally opened. You guessed it - we had ‘unprecedented’ floods. Nature, letting us all know who is boss.

So here I am in my caravan – travel no longer allowed or wanted - locked down by Covid 19 - trying to make sense of it all.  Our elderly people dying in nursing homes – the economy in tatters – unemployment booming!

I can tell you it hurts to read back through this. I can tell you I want my time again. I can tell you that I really hate the word ‘‘unprecedented’’.

So, I call on you to ban the word ‘unprecedented’; erase it from our vocabulary - take it out of the dictionary - destroy it once and for all.

Please, no more ‘unprecedented’ anything!


The Mary Kathleen disbanded uranium mine site - near Mount Isa

Burned Bits:  

The opening photo was taken during a prescribed burn in Alice Springs where I volunteered for the bush fire brigade.

If you need to chat about any of the subjects covered, I would encourage you to contact one of the following links:

www.blackdoginstitute.org.au

headspace.org.au




Larapinta 13: My lawyer and I



Fire is Life - Survivor


Some courage is what I needed to approach the bong-smoking  young man in the morning. In general, I don’t believe I have the right to tell anyone how to live their life, but there was a large list of pointers in my head, spun together during a bad night of hyped-up scatter braining. I managed to reduce an all out verbal assault to a friendly chat about how fast news travels on the trail (especially the bad things) and acted with dumbfound surprise when Alex told me he was still making coffee at eleven thirty at night. In my experience hikers generally go to bed just after dark due to exhaustion and the need to recover one’s sore bits. Every minute of sleep is a gift of energy the next day - an extra lit up bar on the mobile. Any break in sleep transmission is hugely frowned upon. The man wasn’t my son - if he was , he would have copped the full list of amendments, misguided behaviours and broken laws I could have mustered. I am not sure if Alex got the message or whether the answer is still ‘blowing in the wind’.

Another personal opinion point has to be made I feel, right here. Walking the Larapinta is an incredible experience in its self, bordering at times, on the mind altering. No other substance is needed to enjoy it in its full glory. Endorphins, adrenaline, mates and the sheer beauty of the place will see you through. I promise!

 
Section 2: Jay Creek to Simpsons Gap

Section 2 is a 24.5km section. You will need to camp overnight to finish the section.

It is a long distance with some steep ascents. Highlights include walking through the home of the few brushtail possum colonies in Central Australia and exploring a landscape of rock outcrops over 2 billion years old.
 
Information from the Government website

 
The common brushtail possum is actually not that common in the centre of Australia. In and around the West Macs there are only a couple of colonies foraging for eucalyptus leaves and small rodents at night. As you can see from the green bludges in the centre of the map, they have chosen to move away from their coastal cousins.

 

 

 
The rebel colonies of possums in the red heart of Australia

In Australia the possum or Trichosurus Vulpecula is now a protected species with the exception of Tasmania where they are still hunted for their hide. The fast talking Kiwi, Douglas, told me that brushtail possums were an introduced species to New Zealand in 1840. The breading in the wild went, shall I say, better than expected with the population reaching an estimated 70 million. Prolific!!  The main problem for NZ is that possums carry Bovine Tuberculosis, a nasty chronic infectious disease, which still is seriously affecting life stock throughout the country. Nevertheless,  it was kind of strange hearing how the man was talking about knocking off cute little possums by their thousands.

  
 
Cute but deadly, photo courtesy of Pinterest
 
 
Tuesday 26 July 2013
 
My lawyer and I walked together on this day and involved ourselves in my favourite past-time, a good dose of 'walk and talk' therapy.

I found out he did several tours as an army lawyer in Iraq. This meant that he was away from his family, who were in Brisbane, for extended periods of time and living in a country at war. After many years of service to his country, my hiking attorney found out that he had bladder cancer in the classical way. Finding blood in his urine.

What followed must have been a nightmare. The operation was very intrusive where everything was lifted out, the bladder removed and everything lifted back in its place. 'Oh yeah, and by the way you get to pee in bag for the rest of your life'. I could not even begin to imagine being on the wrong end of those words. The consequences...


 
Some time after the Larapinta he wrote to me I looked well and felt well until I went to hospital and got dipped in chemo. It was actually a good year for me because I was released by the Army to go home for treatment and convalescence.  So I was with my wife and my family full-time and that was wonderful. And of course I played the cancer-card so they had to bring me cups of tea whenever I wanted.”

It was obvious the man of the law was struggling physically on this track. The time between his bout of cancer to hiking a tough trail was relatively short. The decision to punish one self in the land of the caterpillar is a courageous and understandable one. Having stared death square in the eyes and defeated its glare ‘now’ is as good a time to hike as ever before. Outrageous solitude, absolute natural splendour and the physical test of all tests - the answer to a life almost lost. If I had my last day on earth please let me climb Razorback Ridge, watch the stars from Brinkley Bluff and soar through the Heavitree Valley.  

The self-deprecating humour and sparkling personality, drawing every hiker in. It was truly an honour to walk alongside, bask in the positive vibes and talk the kilometres away with this man.

We strolled into Mulga Camp ridiculously early. Roz and John had all ready set up and the afternoon just went as I had hoped. Lunch at the campsite, how unusual. A chance to rest our tender bits,  lots of laughter with great conversations all around.



Roz in a good mood


John enjoying himself


Believe it or not, a bon-fire spontaneously combusted in the evening. Only during emergencies are fires allowed on the Larapinta track. Ormiston Gorge, Ellery Creek and Standley Chasm being the exception. After an hour of deliberating the degree of criminality of the illicit flames we took the law into our own hands and extinguished the prohibited fire.


The jury was unanimous, a great day on the track.




Grey Bits
 
If you would like to help people that suffer from cancer, please donate generously at www.cancer.org.au

You are allowed to hit the share button and share this wonderful blog with your mates. My lawyer would concur.

Do you want to become a guest blogger, write your own story and publish on my blog? I would love to hear from you. Email me at storiesfrommars@gmail.com
 



The offending fire is clearly being arrested
 

Larapinta 4 Great Southern Land

 


It was cold “all night long”. My tent is suitable for warm Western Australian conditions with the inner tent completely made of mesh. Any wind blows in underneath the fly and when it is below freezing, like it was that night on Big Hill, watch out. I had to set up the gas burner in the tiny porch of my tent so I could remain laying/sitting inside during breakfast while the frosty wind howled around and through my fluro summer shelter. My bottom lip had cracked from the dry gusts of cold air. I needed to get off this hill…. And fast!!!


Getting down Big Hill

Any feeling in my hands had gone and I noticed that they were bleeding from a couple of cuts acquired from yanking out pegs at great speed. John asked me if he could borrow my burner to cook up some porridge for his frozen family if I could spare the gas. His fuel burner wasn’t working, probably frozen. The last I saw was Mum, Dad and four kids all huddled together in a two-man tent defrosting whilst spooning their porridge from the pot in the middle. Definitely the most adventurous family I ever met on any track.

 
Spinifex covered hills around Big Hill

Like a true frost-bitten geriatric I danced down Big Hill as fast as I could. I was praying for the sun to start warming everything up but was still waiting at 1pm. I came to the oldest river in the world, the Finke River - large white gums stood around the banks of the still water body. It is a beautiful  broad river - more broad than the many creeks I have crossed previously.  I was thankful for the hand written sign alerting hikers to the fact of the 300m detour. I didn’t fancy a waste deep wade in water that was as cold as a penguin's pecker.

 
The oldest river in the world

There was a major decision to be made at the Glen Helen Resort turnoff. They not only had hot showers, budget accommodation and a restaurant but open fires and a bar as well.
Tough decision!

At the Finke River hut I stopped for an hour and chatted to two sisters that were hiking in the opposite direction. It was busy around the hut with several groups coming in and out using the long drop throne and other facilities of the trekking shelter.


The Finke River Hut

Wednesday 13 July 2016

Section 10: Finke River to Ormiston Gorge

Section 10 is a 9.1km section of the trail. This has some steep ascents and is one of the shorter sections of the Larapinta Trail. This section winds through limestone hills at the headwaters of the Finke River, one of the world's oldest rivers.
 
Information from the Government website on the Larapinta trail



Lots of ups and downs through this section
 
The following stretch was a winding, mind-numbing hike through the most amazing barren land. In the end I forced “all night long” (Lionel had to go) out of my mind and changed the ol' LP to “Great Southern Land". I sang it out loud for the Kangaroos and all the other critters that were out there somewhere. Nobody else would have heard.

Great Southern Land, burned you black
 
So you look into the land and it will tell you a story
Story ‘bout a journey ended long ago
Listen to the motion of the wind in the mountains
Maybe you can hear them talking like I do
“. . they’re gonna betray you, they’re gonna forget you
Are you gonna let them take you over that way . .”

 
Great Southern Land, Great Southern Land
You walk alone, like a primitive man
And they make it work, with sticks and bones
See their hungry eyes, its a hungry home

 
I hear the sound of the stranger’s voices
I see their hungry eyes, their hungry eyes
Great Southern Land, Great Southern Land
They burned you black, black against the ground

Written appropriately by Ivor Davies of Icehouse

 
I was punching the air by the time I reached Ormiston Gorge late in the afternoon. Funny how arriving after a tough day is always memorable. At Ormiston, but only after a hot shower, I got to know and enjoyed the company of  a group of five youngsters. Young people for someone as ancient as myself seemed awfully fresh-faced but we got along famously.

Looking towards Ormiston Gorge from the top of a lookout


One of the girls of the group had been walking the whole track from Alice to Ormiston wearing one boot and one thong as one of her hiking boots fell apart on the first day. How tough must this chick be??? An eighteen year old young fella split out of his trousers and only had one set of clothes left and told me how cold he was every night. The oldest of the bunch was a geography student who told me how interesting the MacDonnell ranges were for him from a Geographical sense. At the café of Ormiston Gorge they bought a $25 pizza and gave me a slice which was extraordinarily generous. They told me they were short on food and I gave them all the supplies I could spare.

Night fell while cooking and chatting to this inspiring fivesome. A great Ranger talk with slide shows and information about local flora and fauna capped off a great evening.


Grey Bits

Check out the details of the Ormiston Ranger talks here
http://www.nt.gov.au/westmacs/things/activity/52


The gumtrees in the Finke River bed
I recommend a tent with higher resistance to the cold for the Larapinta or a good warm sleeping bag.

Read more about the Finke River use the following link https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Finke_River

Larapinta 2. That Flying Feeling

 
 

‘What the……’??? I awoke with a shock by the sound of voices in the night. Flashes of head torches blinding my caked up eyes. What time is it? 4am?? A large group of hikers noisily clonked past my tent. Soon, more came all chatting along excitedly. I realised that there must be a couple of very early sunrise tours to the top of Mount Sonder. Unfortunately, I have put my tent right next to the trail. Exhausted from blowing my nose and the sounds of the wiggles in my head, I roll back over. Cold air biting my face inside the tent. No need to hurry I told myself lazily.

Monday 11 July 2016

Section 12: Redbank Gorge to Mt Sonder return

Section 12 is a 15.8km return section of the Larapinta Trail.

It is a very difficult climb to the peak of Mt Sonder but is worth the effort. There are breathtaking views in all directions. The view looks over ranges, plains, valleys and salt lakes. This is a place to experience the grandeur of the desert landscape.

Information from the Government website on the Larapinta trail

 
The decision making process was very slow, almost non-existent that morning. My head feeling like it was invaded by several herds of woolly sheep. After a huge bowl of cereal and fake milk (powdered) I had gathered up enough energy to slam a daypack together and get started. I left my tent and contents in the creek bed and carried some basics for the ascent to Mount Sonder.
Why I left my lunch and sunglasses in my tent is still a mystery to me.


The exposed trail up Mount Sonder, early in the morning 


First, I would like to acknowledge the traditional owners, the Arrente people, of the land I am about to embark. It is an absolute privilege to be able to wander through this ancient land of our indigenous ancestors.


Magnificent Arrente country. The land ahead waiting for me

 
It was cold, but the wind became seriously freezing the higher I climbed the ridges of Mount Sonder. My right ear feeling frost bitten by the icy cross breeze started aching on the inside. My word!!!! This desert gets cold.  I fished my raincoat out of my backpack to stop the wind from blowing straight through my clothes. I realised that I was no longer on that balmy Kokoda trail. The upwards gradient wasn't too bad but there were some flat, luxurious sections where I could catch my breath. All the way up I greeted many hikers returning from the top, mostly woman, that looked red-faced, with teeth chattering and wrapped up in thick layers of clothes. Mild hyperthermia, the best punishment for waking this sleeping nomad earlier that morning I thought without justification.
 


The only companion up the top was a jar of squashed peanuts.
 Excuse the brand placement



Meanwhile, the views were getting better as I went along and when I reached the end of the trail the view was grandiose. Towards the North  (relatively close by) is the actual insurmountable Mount Sonder summit. The wind dropped away, the sun warmed everything up (squint) and I found myself up there all alone with my jar of peanut butter for at least one hour. I stood up there, for a while, with arms outstretched as if I was flying. Brilliant spot!!!
Views of the actual summit of Mount Sonder from the end of the trail
 
On the way down the views were open and magnificent.  I got a good look at the highest peak in the Northern Territory, Mount Zeil. Zeil meaning sail mountain in Dutch.
 
Mount Zeil in the distance (1.531m tall)

Back in the riverbank of the Redbank Gorge, I moved my tent away from the track and under a tree for shade. The scouts had left, but a woman had pitched her tent not far from me.  I initiated a conversation with her. It turns out she was of Latvian decent, appeared a little shy and had really struggled throughout this hike. The Latvian lady told me she had learnt a lot about hiking during her stint on the Larapinta and that she had run out of money. The lone hiker asked me if she could borrow my gas burner to boil some water for a packet of dried mashed potato. She said she had a gas bottle but hadn't brought a burner???? No problem, needless to say, as trekkers like us always tend to share and help each other as much as possible.

A week later I learned that a hiker had a gas bottle and some food stolen from their supply box at the Ellery Creek storeroom. What a low thing to do! Most of the contents of these supply boxes are carefully balanced and messing with it can blow any plan of walking this trail. Try walking here without food. I just put two and two together!!!

Did you?
The polished quartzite walls of Redbank Gorge gradually changed colour from bright red - to dark purple - to dark brown as the sun went down.  I was in the tent writing when the haunting sound of a howling dingo disturbed the evening. A seriously melancholic but chilling wail echoing off the cliffs making it sound like a whole pack of dingo’s. Fear gripped me for an instant but then I just told myself not to be a baby.

Grey Bits
 
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A dingo spotted at Kings Canyon

Dingo attacks on people are rare but they are known to attack and kill livestock. They are wild animals and should be treated with respect. Read more here on how to interact with dingos.
http://dingo.livingin-australia.com/dingo-danger.html
More information can be found about the Larapinta trail on the following link
https://nt.gov.au/leisure/recreation/bushwalking-hiking/larapinta-trail



Looking down with that 'flying feeling'

Uluru. The Story Rock


Uluru, the belly button of Australia

A sharp intake of breath and some gasps of amazement was all we could manage when we swung around the bend and over a hill bringing Uluru in full magnificent view. Now there is something one won’t forget in a hurry, that first eyeful of the giant, red monolith underneath a sky as blue as a budgies bum. This is the  moment the long drive becomes justified and a somewhat faded memory. We are nowhere – the wind is swishing gently through the desert oaks –  vast natural Aussie plains – a reprieve from anything built by human hand – an awestruck feeling wraps around us – something is going on around here –  an ancient feel - calm and soothing. Is this home?



Just an awesome site
 
So bare with me for a moment! I am a big fan of the ABC’s ‘Conversations’ and an even bigger fan of its presenter Richard Fidler. His interviews are inspiring and have played their part in this crazy getaway Jules and I are finding ourselves on. Somewhere along the Sturt Highway we were listening to the podcast where Richard interviewed Lynne Kelly, the Science Writer. She told the story of how she was testing her memory by associating the name of a country with every street address in her suburb. She could remember over 400 countries by just walking her dog along her local streets.

Lynne then spoke of her visit to Stonehenge, where she has come up with a different theory as to why it was built and what the purpose of its existence is. What if Stonehenge, with all the windows, burs and dents, are cues to remind the initiated of the stories and laws of the land by using this same powerful memory technique? A place to remember and pass on the important information and lessons learned of the history of an ancient civilization. An art form lost to our society. Could Stonehenge be compared with the memory bank of a computer?


Still the mystery remains at Stonehenge!
Photo courtesy of the Huffington Post

Let's cruise back to the belly button of Australia and the budgies bum. Imagine walking around Uluru, having important knowledge of your fellow men available in every rock, crevice, tree or animal you are surrounded by. A story that could easily be bigger than 400 memorised countries, passed on to you by thousands of generations. Imagine it to be all you know and all you need.

Fountain of knowledge

To speak with Sam Cook ‘what a wonderful world this would be’
 
I have heard many different versions of the story of Liru and Kuniya but found the following a great example how Indigenous people make use of the landscape in their stories
 
Mount Conner from afar
 
Long ago in the Tjukurpa (Creation times in the Pitjantjatjara language), the Kuniya or non-venomous carpet snakes journeyed from Paku-Paku, a waterhole near Mount Conner west of Ayers rock (Uluru), until they came to a large, flat sandhill in the centre of which was a waterhole. They made their camp there and for a time life was very good. Each day the Kuniya women were able to find plenty of food which they carried home to the camp in their curved wooden carrying dishes. 
They prepared their bread from seeds gathered from grasses on the plain and cooked it in the ashes of their fires. The Kuniya men, after hunting kangaroos, emus and wallabies, like to lie resting at the edge of the sand hill as the sun set. This sand hill at the close of the Creation era turned to rock.


It is believed a long long time ago Uluru may have been a sand hill that turned to rock

The Kuniya people themselves were changed into various features of what is now called Ayers Rock. The women seated in their camp became large boulders in Tjukiki Gorge while their piti (wooden carrying dish) became a tall slab of rock at the head of the gorge. A rock hole represents their campfire and small grasses and bushes which grow in tufts in the gorge are their hairs. The sleeping Kuniya men turned into boulders which now lie motionless in the sun on the plain beneath. 
   
Can this be the sleeping Kuniya men?

 
While the Kuniya people were staying at Ayers Rock, however, life did not remain peaceful. A party of venomous snake men, the Liru, were travelling around in the Pitjantjatjara country, causing a lot of trouble. The Liru camped at Katatjuta (Mount Olga) and then decided to approach Ayers Rock to attack the Kuniya. They were led by the great warrior Kulikudgeri, and travelling in a large group they crossed the sand hills and arrived at the camp of a powerful Kuniya woman named Pulari. Pulari had separated herself from the rest of her people as she had just given birth to a child.
 
Katatjuta (formerly known as the Olga's) home of the Liru

Enraged and desperate to protect her child, she sprang at the Liru with her child in her arms, spitting out the essence of disease and death, or arukwita. Many of the Liru were killed, but they continued to attack. A young Kuniya warrior challenged Kulikudgeri to a fight to the death and the Liru man, after an arduous battle, fatally wounded the Kuniya man who crawled away over the sand hill.    
 
The site of the battle at the foot of Uluru
 
Kuniya Inkridi, the mother of the slain youth, then rose in a fury and struck Kulikudgeri a great blow on the nose with her digging stick. He died in agony, his blood streaming over the surface of the land, leaving stains on the rock that remain today. Kuniya Inkridi mourned for her lost son. She covered her body in red ochre and sang and wailed into the night. She spat out arukwita, the essence of death and disease, and any man approaching that site today will be stricken.   


Grey Bits
 
If you like my blog, please, feel free to share it with others.

If you want to download the Conversations podcast of Lynne Kelly or any other free Podcasts this is where you need to go http://www.abc.net.au/radio/programs/conversations/guests/


The tourists climbing the rock of stories

 
Lynne Kelly has published several books and is an accomplished author well worth Googling
 
 
One of Lynne Kelly's books
 
There is an interesting article written in the Huffington post about Stonehenge.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/03/23/stonehenge-theories-mysterious-monument_n_5015553.html

I found this great version of the story of Liru and Kuniya at the following website
http://rmwebed.com.au/web_resources/ab_culture/dreamt_kuniya.htm

Katatjuta at sunrise

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