The Big Bush
Adventure had it roots in a casual conversation last year between friends when
Cat declared to Bottoms one day, “We should get Active.”
“Active?”
said Bottoms, always suspicious of Cat’s plans. She was also confused. Was
Active some sort of washing powder Cat was recommending they try? “What do you
mean? What kind of ‘Active’ do you have in mind?”
“What about
a nice walk? Loosen up the muscles, clear the brain, excite the senses!” Cat danced around the room to demonstrate how
exciting she found the prospect.
Bottoms gave
the matter some thought and after a few weeks of procrastination, finally
agreed to participate in some ‘Active’.
Arrangements were made to meet up to take a walk through the Botanical
Gardens. And so they did. After a cuppa
at the kiosk, they set off through the well-tended trails, admiring the
wonderful flowers. They even took a bus
ride around the Gardens, entertained by a not very knowledgeable driver before
setting off once more on foot. Unfortunately,
Bottoms had just finished working nights and was not really up to strenuous
exercise on such a tropical day. When
she recovered from the heat stroke, she swore off activities of all kinds.
Several
months later, after Bottoms had forgotten the agony of boiled brain, Cat once
more suggested some activity, proposing a long walk around the Scenic Rim. Seduced
by the name of the area, Bottoms eventually agreed, imagining the two of them
chasing butterflies through meadows of clover and even bought a new camera to
capture the anticipated antics.
The
appointed day dawned grey and drizzly so Bottoms closed her eyes, wanting to
burrow deep under the doona and forget about the whole thing but Cat was
insistent. “Let’s go! English muffins
with lashings of marmalade all round,” she trilled and off they went, delivered
to their destination in Cat’s car, aided by the nagging voice of the GPS (“You
are over the speed limit”). Cat’s lead foot got them to the meeting point in
good time to greet the rest of the Clan (Burn
Gradually,
Cat and Bottoms fell back to the rear of the pack despite Cat’s best efforts to
overtake her younger brother, Burn Burn
Possum
expertly lead the group onwards and upwards.
After what seemed like two hours
of hard slog, Bottoms asked, “Are we there yet?” Titters of amusement ran along
the group. “We’ve only been on the trail for 30 minutes,” said Possum. Bottoms
was shocked into silence.
“Thirty minutes?” she thought, “That can’t be
right.” Checking her watch, she saw it
was indeed only 30 minutes ago that they had gamely started their journey into
the unknown. In some convoluted way time
seemed to have stood still for her. She brushed perspiration out of her eyes,
adjusted her demon backpack (inexplicably able to weigh more than it contained),
squared her already square shoulders and pushed on.
Ahead,
Cat also trudged on gamely and resolutely, eventually passing a couple of other
stragglers; she did not want to be last back to the cars.
Bottoms decided to take more photographs of
the wonders that unfolded, despite her jelly legs and shaking hands and slowly
she became detached from the conga line winding its way ever upwards as she
stopped to record this and that.
“Almost like a fairyland,” she thought as she recorded the lichen and moss hanging from trees like shrouds. But like all fairylands, there were monsters.
Leeches everywhere reached out and latched onto passing legs, eager to suck the blood from their prey. The fiends were adroit at winkling their way onto any unprotected skin and it was a constant battle to keep them out. Some hikers succumbed, including Possum, but bravely carried on. Bottoms shuddered at the thought of the slimy, black vampires on her skin.
Possum
appeared up ahead ,checking on the slow coaches and cried out, “Come on. I’ll
boil the billy at the top,” so that all would be uplifted with the thought of a
nice hot cuppa. In the dripping
rainforest it was difficult to tell if it was actually raining and Bottoms was
glad of her shady hat which was keeping her hair in check as well as doing a
jolly good job as umbrella, of sorts.
Finally,
there was a break in the rainforest canopy and the whole of the Fassifern
Valley was spread out below them, although clouds were rapidly moving in. “We
must be there now,” thought Bottoms as she took another photograph. But no.
She heard Possum urging them on, “Not too far now.”
After
another week, or perhaps 30 minutes, they finally reached the summit. Alas, there was no view at all as the cloud
cover had moved right over the top of the mountain. After consultation, it was decided to have
that much yearned for cuppa further below.
Cat and Bottoms were not included in the consultation but could see that
with visibility so restricted it might not be in their best interests to stay
too much longer staring at... well,
nothing, just white.
The line of
hikers upped stakes and continued their
hellish trek downwards, trying to keep upright while the slick, leaf mulch
underfoot conspired to trip them up (or down).
Rid had fallen back and, ever the gentleman, was on hand when help was
needed. Then, suddenly they were a group
again as Possum halted progress and waited for the rest of the group to catch
up.
“This is
where we leave the trail. If you don’t
think you can continue, this is the point to return to the cars. This is not a trail but a route, which is
occasionally taken by walkers. It’s much steeper than the trail down the
mountain. We’ll break for lunch and tea
not far from here.”
No one left
the group. In Bottoms’ case, because she
didn’t have a car. Where Cat went, she
went and Cat’s car was at the end of the walk.
“Easy to moderate, be blowed,” she thought as she slid downwards,
following the route taken by Possum.
Walking
ahead of Cat, Bottoms turned back when she heard a loud “Oof!” to see poor Cat
struggling to pick herself up after ending up A over T, her backside coming to
rest on a rock. “That’ll be a bruise,”
Cat muttered as Rid helped her up, once she caught her breath.
Mike, one of
the experienced hikers, kindly offered one of his walking sticks which Bottoms
declined. “It doesn’t seemed to have
helped Cat at all,” she thought as she pointed out more fungi in the bush. "At least some guys are having fun," commented Cat.
A little
further on, Bottoms reversed her decision about the stick as her feet somehow took on a life of
their own, leaving her sitting on her derriere instead of standing. “Fish!” she yelled.
“Where?”
said Cat, licking her lips.
“I’m just trying
to clean up my language, thank you,” replied Bottoms as she gratefully accepted the
walking stick again offered by Mike. She was
to end up on her bum once more on the treacherous walk down but it could have
been more often without the stick.
Finally,
Possum stopped, declaring it lunch time and set up the camp stove to boil the
billy. Everyone chose places to sit to consume what lunches they’d brought.
Cat didn’t notice she’d chosen a spot sprinkled liberally with cow dung
which caused high amusement for Bottoms as she consumed her protein bar which had no taste except for oil and sugar.
The wretched camp stove ran out of gas and a few half cups of lukewarm water was all it
produced. Bottoms scored one and reflected that it was a very expensive cuppa
really given that she was using her own tea bag and had lost the first $40 she’d
put aside to pay for the walk. The tea’s
restorative powers were somewhat reduced by the thought.
Mike
discovered about then that Cat had been attacked by a leech which he managed to
pull off her neck. “Definitely vampire
leeches then,” thought Bottoms while Possum applied a bandaid. The leech incident came shortly after Cat
discovered a red and black spider in her pack.
Later, a fat leech would drop off her leg, leaving her sock bloodied but her spirit unharmed.
Possum said
that at the rate they were going, the walk may not finish until dark. The
thought of trekking at night in that environment struck terror to Bottoms’
heart and she vowed to finish the walk before dusk; at least you could see the
fiends in the daylight. Torches were on
the list of essentials for the walk and it was at this point Cat remarked that
with their bright, red faces acting like beacons, they wouldn’t be needing
them. And so the neverending walk continued, after everyone checked their packs for
more unwanted passengers; several leeches got the flick. Following an undignified scramble under a
barbed wire fence, the walk followed a 4WD track, parts of which were more like
a road. The walking was easier and they could walk several abreast, with gentle
rises and dips along the way.
The next
‘fiend’ was discovered off to the side of the track. A big carpet snake was quietly
digesting whatever his last meal consisted of. He didn’t stir as nearly everyone took
photos of him. Bottoms decided right then that bush walking was not her new
hobby. On the slip and slide down the
mountainside, they had walked over many dead logs and stumps, any one of which
could have harboured these creatures; perhaps even a deadly brown. The thought made her break out in a cold
sweat. Exertion could have caused the
sweating, of course.
More horror
was to follow for Bottoms. Just as they
were crossing a creek full of treacherous stepping stones, she felt an itch on
her shoulder. It was a tick which must
have dropped on her from any one of the branches they had pushed past. Possum extracted it with some tiny tweezers
and the walk continued. Bottoms had been
a victim of tick bite before so knew what to expect as the site of the bite
begain to swell, burn and itch.
After 30
minutes or so of a reasonably enjoyable walk, the last part of the hike was
ever upwards again. Cat and Bottoms were
soon left at the back of the pack, finding it hard going as they navigated deep,
muddy ruts. Sometimes it was almost one
step forward and two back as they collected large clumps of mud on their shoes. Possum fell back to walk with them, no doubt
worried they would wander off into the bush and get lost. She didn’t know the two friends very well so did
not know how determined they were to finish the trek. "We weren't in the senior service for nothing," Cat muttered to Bottoms. "Sail on."
The sight of
the other walkers resting while they waited for the two friends was a great
lift to Cat and Bottoms; as well as the sign saying it was a 3. 2km return trip
to the carpark. So only 1.6km to the
car! Another easy walk as it turned out,
although Cat somehow managed to ignore the point 6 and after walking for a
while, complained it was the longest kilometre she’d ever walked. Bottoms and Rid impishly pointed out that the
walk was, in fact, 1.6km and they’d only done the point 6.
Bottoms
skipped ahead and took more photos while Rid and Cat brought up the rear so was
the first of the trio to see the car park, seven hours after starting out.
“Cat! I can see the cars!” yelled Bottoms.
“Hallelujah!”
replied Cat as she began to dance with relief and excitement. Perhaps dance is too stong a word; Cat began
to shuffle in excitement. Bottoms
decided she could have walked another kilometre (similar to the last level
track; not uphill) and was surprised at how good she felt. She kindly allowed Cat to go through the
carpark gate ahead of her. She and Cat
agreed that even though it was a hard walk, they were glad they’d completed it,
feeling it was a real accomplishment for two fairly unfit, almost elderly
females. Possum expressed her delight,
and let’s face it, surprise, that they had done so well. The heavens opened up shortly afterwards and all were glad their ordeal had already finished.
The Clan met
at a local coffee shop before the drive home for a debrief, catch up and a hot
drink. Cat also ravished a raspberry
slice because she needed to keep her strength up for the long drive in the rain
while being berated by the GPS. On their
way home, Bottoms announced a few revelations for future use:
1. Always
read the fine print while wearing reading glasses; eg ‘12km walk’ was not
‘1. 2km walk’.
2. Don’t
always believe the fine print: running shoes may not be adequate footwear for hiking.
3. Protein bars are not real food.
4. Bushwalking is not to be taken lightly and
not without a walking stick.
5. Next walk will NOT be the Kokoda trail. That bush adventure would make this one look
like a doddle.
6. It’s good to be alive.
Copyright SMG 2012, some names were changed to protect the innocent and provide comic relief, no animals were harmed in the production of this article and poetic licence was liberally used. Unless otherwise stated photographs were taken by SMG and are owned by snapshotsofbeauty.blogspot.com
