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195405 [2018/07/16 03:24]
tyreless
195405 [2018/07/17 00:08] (current)
tyreless
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 It has happened again - a large party with insufficient knowledge of bushcraft lost in the trackless wilds of the Cox River, sitting down and waiting for someone to come and rescue them. It has happened again - a large party with insufficient knowledge of bushcraft lost in the trackless wilds of the Cox River, sitting down and waiting for someone to come and rescue them.
  
-On Tuesday night following the Easter holidays Paddy got a ring from one of the Bexley Rovers to say a party of their people, due home the previous night, hadn't returned. Paddy reassured him - nobody could possibly go astray on such a simple walk, they must be only delayed. On Wednesday night Inspector Parker rang and Paddy gave the same reply - it's kindergarten country as far as bushwalking is concerned. Still, the Search and Rescue were alerted and searchers set out that night for the mountains. Next morning a scheme was worked out for sending parties into the search area, a written sheet of instructfons ​was handed to each party, a check was taken on tents, maps and compasses, all watches were synchronised (a difficult but most important point), and the search was on. The results you have already gleaned from the press, to wit, that the party was found by Bert Carlon, all safe and sound, three miles up the Cox from the Kowmung, where, according to what they told Bert, they had sat solidly for the past three days waiting to be rescued.+On Tuesday night following the Easter holidays Paddy got a ring from one of the Bexley Rovers to say a party of their people, due home the previous night, hadn't returned. Paddy reassured him - nobody could possibly go astray on such a simple walk, they must be only delayed. On Wednesday night Inspector Parker rang and Paddy gave the same reply - it's kindergarten country as far as bushwalking is concerned. Still, the Search and Rescue were alerted and searchers set out that night for the mountains. Next morning a scheme was worked out for sending parties into the search area, a written sheet of instructions ​was handed to each party, a check was taken on tents, maps and compasses, all watches were synchronised (a difficult but most important point), and the search was on. The results you have already gleaned from the press, to wit, that the party was found by Bert Carlon, all safe and sound, three miles up the Cox from the Kowmung, where, according to what they told Bert, they had sat solidly for the past three days waiting to be rescued.
  
 The Search and Rescue members are agreed that better planning would have made a more efficient search. Something was apparently wrong in ground-air recognition by the spotter plane, with the result that searchers unnecessarily headed for the Jenolan Caves area. About 16 members of the Search and Rescue held a meting at Paddy'​s last Friday night to talk about what happened and make their recommendations,​ which will be reported to Federation. Federation will then take the necessary steps to put these recommendations to the Police Department and other Departments concerned. When the report is complete we expect to receive a copy for publication. In the meantime all those Bushwalkers with cars (and there are now many of these among the ex-active Club members), should give some thought to a suggestion of Paddy'​s that we have a Transport Pool of all cars available to transport searchers from Sydney to the search area. The Search and Rescue members are agreed that better planning would have made a more efficient search. Something was apparently wrong in ground-air recognition by the spotter plane, with the result that searchers unnecessarily headed for the Jenolan Caves area. About 16 members of the Search and Rescue held a meting at Paddy'​s last Friday night to talk about what happened and make their recommendations,​ which will be reported to Federation. Federation will then take the necessary steps to put these recommendations to the Police Department and other Departments concerned. When the report is complete we expect to receive a copy for publication. In the meantime all those Bushwalkers with cars (and there are now many of these among the ex-active Club members), should give some thought to a suggestion of Paddy'​s that we have a Transport Pool of all cars available to transport searchers from Sydney to the search area.
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 === Coming... Coming... Coming... === === Coming... Coming... Coming... ===
  
-To S.B.W. soon. a new and dramatic form of entertainment. Your chance to win notoriety overnight. Watch for furher ​announcement in the June Magazine.+To S.B.W. soon. a new and dramatic form of entertainment. Your chance to win notoriety overnight. Watch for further ​announcement in the June Magazine.
  
 J. Brown, M. McGregor, A.K. Meadows. J. Brown, M. McGregor, A.K. Meadows.
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 Ross Laird, Jim Hooper. Ross Laird, Jim Hooper.
  
-It all started coming back in the train from Melbourne when we decided that if the crew at home hadn't organised a trip for the long weekend we would get them all to do Mumbedah Creek with us. As fate would have it they hadn't any special trip in mind and were quite willing to "​do"​ Mumbedah, especially as we promised spectacular water falls, cool dips in tranquil pools beneath waving gum and ti tree, a lounge on the Cox and Breakfast Creek before ​climing ​up the historic Red Ledge on to Narrow Neck.... Little did we know!+It all started coming back in the train from Melbourne when we decided that if the crew at home hadn't organised a trip for the long weekend we would get them all to do Mumbedah Creek with us. As fate would have it they hadn't any special trip in mind and were quite willing to "​do"​ Mumbedah, especially as we promised spectacular water falls, cool dips in tranquil pools beneath waving gum and ti tree, a lounge on the Cox and Breakfast Creek before ​climbing ​up the historic Red Ledge on to Narrow Neck.... Little did we know!
  
 Whether some people have powers to foretell the future I do not know, but, as the time approached to say goodbye to a city throbbing with people fast becoming madly enthusiastic over the Queen'​s visit, first Yvonne pulled out, swiftly followed by Judy, then by Allen, June and lastly Grace. Meantime Geoff, our leader, sent a reply-paid telegram to Mt. Victoria asking for transport for a now muchly reduced party of eight to Cunninghams Clearing. The reply came back in due time confirming our booking, so with some of us hitching and the rest travelling by train we journeyed to Mt. Victoria on the Friday night. Upon arrival we were told by our driver that he couldn'​t convey us to Cunninghams that night as he'd mistaken it for somewhere down in Megalong Valley. As his car was only small he had intended to make two trips of it, but upon realising the real location was well past Jenolan Caves he had contacted Siedlecky who had agreed to take us out the next morning. Whether some people have powers to foretell the future I do not know, but, as the time approached to say goodbye to a city throbbing with people fast becoming madly enthusiastic over the Queen'​s visit, first Yvonne pulled out, swiftly followed by Judy, then by Allen, June and lastly Grace. Meantime Geoff, our leader, sent a reply-paid telegram to Mt. Victoria asking for transport for a now muchly reduced party of eight to Cunninghams Clearing. The reply came back in due time confirming our booking, so with some of us hitching and the rest travelling by train we journeyed to Mt. Victoria on the Friday night. Upon arrival we were told by our driver that he couldn'​t convey us to Cunninghams that night as he'd mistaken it for somewhere down in Megalong Valley. As his car was only small he had intended to make two trips of it, but upon realising the real location was well past Jenolan Caves he had contacted Siedlecky who had agreed to take us out the next morning.
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 After the first sensational wading of the creek (which incidently proved to be the only reasonable way to follow its course), we soon became as wet beneath our groundsheets as we were on top. About one and a half to two miles of the creek had been covered when by common agreement a halt was called for lunch, the time being 3.30 p.m. This break, which went far towards lifting wet and sodden spirits, also gave a cool breeze which had sprung up a chance to set about its dirty work, so after about twenty minutes packs were again lifted and we set off down the creek. After the first sensational wading of the creek (which incidently proved to be the only reasonable way to follow its course), we soon became as wet beneath our groundsheets as we were on top. About one and a half to two miles of the creek had been covered when by common agreement a halt was called for lunch, the time being 3.30 p.m. This break, which went far towards lifting wet and sodden spirits, also gave a cool breeze which had sprung up a chance to set about its dirty work, so after about twenty minutes packs were again lifted and we set off down the creek.
  
-About twenty minutes later signs of a great drop became noticable in front of us. Around a corner and along a flat stretch for some thirty yards and there she was - a series of wonderful cascades falling away beneath us for about two hundred feet! To climb down the falls was out of the question so one of the sides had to be chosen to sidle around. The left-hand bank going down stream was picked and the job started. One and a quarter hours later and three quarters of a mile further down stream a halt was called and the situation seriously discussed. What appeared to be a never-ending ridge of prickly holly forever disappearing into the rain and mist decided us that an effort should be made to reach the stream bed; it was time to be thinking of camping and a night spent stuck on the side of that ridge was a situation to be avoided at all costs if possible. Down the ridge we charged, only to be stopped by a wall some fifty feet high between us and the river. Frank and Brian climbed down together, but it was voted too slow so out came the rope that Col Putt had lent us and a fixed rope was set up. It was nearly six o'​clock when all the party was assembled on the lower level, and we decided to camp then and there. On looking round we found that, after clearing away the nettles and undergrowth and removing the six to nine inches of sodden leaves and bark from each individual campsite, a reasonable home for the night could be made beneath the bigger trees. While some pitched tents and colleced ​bark and bracken for sleeping on, others attempted to light a fire. In a place where everything has rotted through and through this task proved to be difficult, if not irksome. But patience and perseverance won, and after much blowing and careful handling a fire was started. The whole of this operation had taken close on one and a half hours.+About twenty minutes later signs of a great drop became noticable in front of us. Around a corner and along a flat stretch for some thirty yards and there she was - a series of wonderful cascades falling away beneath us for about two hundred feet! To climb down the falls was out of the question so one of the sides had to be chosen to sidle around. The left-hand bank going down stream was picked and the job started. One and a quarter hours later and three quarters of a mile further down stream a halt was called and the situation seriously discussed. What appeared to be a never-ending ridge of prickly holly forever disappearing into the rain and mist decided us that an effort should be made to reach the stream bed; it was time to be thinking of camping and a night spent stuck on the side of that ridge was a situation to be avoided at all costs if possible. Down the ridge we charged, only to be stopped by a wall some fifty feet high between us and the river. Frank and Brian climbed down together, but it was voted too slow so out came the rope that Col Putt had lent us and a fixed rope was set up. It was nearly six o'​clock when all the party was assembled on the lower level, and we decided to camp then and there. On looking round we found that, after clearing away the nettles and undergrowth and removing the six to nine inches of sodden leaves and bark from each individual campsite, a reasonable home for the night could be made beneath the bigger trees. While some pitched tents and collected ​bark and bracken for sleeping on, others attempted to light a fire. In a place where everything has rotted through and through this task proved to be difficult, if not irksome. But patience and perseverance won, and after much blowing and careful handling a fire was started. The whole of this operation had taken close on one and a half hours.
  
 Rain - rain - rain. Gosh, wouldn'​t it ever stop? It certainly didn't look like it. The bare essentials were cooked for tea that night, and in our case a large billy of apples and rice was brewed for breakfast next morning to save having to go through the fire lighting procedure again. Rain - rain - rain. Gosh, wouldn'​t it ever stop? It certainly didn't look like it. The bare essentials were cooked for tea that night, and in our case a large billy of apples and rice was brewed for breakfast next morning to save having to go through the fire lighting procedure again.
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 Up and up we went; up the ridge of loose, very loose, boulders, continually on the lookout for falling stones. There'​d be a yell from up front and a huge boulder would career madly down the hill to disappear over the ridge, banging and smashing everything in its path till at last it either reached the creek or met something bigger and stronger than itself which ended its swift and sudden race. Up and up we went; up the ridge of loose, very loose, boulders, continually on the lookout for falling stones. There'​d be a yell from up front and a huge boulder would career madly down the hill to disappear over the ridge, banging and smashing everything in its path till at last it either reached the creek or met something bigger and stronger than itself which ended its swift and sudden race.
  
-Left, right and centre people were knocktng ​themselves on rocks. Frank scored a super long deep cut down one leg, and I a deep cut on the right knee cap. It was Brian who came off worst though. In trying to stop a rock from gathering too much momentum he cut his left hand rather badly along the outer edge. This had to be attended to immediately as the amount of blood he was losing gave everyone visions of carrying him out, and we all know he's not worth that much effort or energy. Acriflavine and crepe bandages temporarily fixed that, and progress was resumed up the ridge.+Left, right and centre people were knocking ​themselves on rocks. Frank scored a super long deep cut down one leg, and I a deep cut on the right knee cap. It was Brian who came off worst though. In trying to stop a rock from gathering too much momentum he cut his left hand rather badly along the outer edge. This had to be attended to immediately as the amount of blood he was losing gave everyone visions of carrying him out, and we all know he's not worth that much effort or energy. Acriflavine and crepe bandages temporarily fixed that, and progress was resumed up the ridge.
  
 The top was eventually reached as all summits must be reached at some time or another, and we turned and started along the crown towards the road. At one stage we nearly whizzed off in the wrong direction at a fork in the ridge, but this was rectified and we plodded on, gradually regaining lost spirits as it hadn't rained for about two hours. Lunch in a saddle and we were off again with a huge black cloud dogging our footsteps. Upon reaching a small summit along the ridge our friend the cloud opened up and treated us to a most spectacular hail storm. One would have been reminded of a mob of draught horses to see us all standing, backs turned to the storm, under a dead tree in the middle of a rocky clearing. There was nothing we could do but stand and wait, and what difference any way - we were as wet as it was possible to be. The storm passed and we started again, to discover a few yards further on an old timber track running in our direction. This led on to a newer track. At the junction we felt justified in cutting an arrow in a tree to mark the turn-off for future trips. A few miles on and we reached the road, about one and a half miles up road from where we had left it the morning before. The top was eventually reached as all summits must be reached at some time or another, and we turned and started along the crown towards the road. At one stage we nearly whizzed off in the wrong direction at a fork in the ridge, but this was rectified and we plodded on, gradually regaining lost spirits as it hadn't rained for about two hours. Lunch in a saddle and we were off again with a huge black cloud dogging our footsteps. Upon reaching a small summit along the ridge our friend the cloud opened up and treated us to a most spectacular hail storm. One would have been reminded of a mob of draught horses to see us all standing, backs turned to the storm, under a dead tree in the middle of a rocky clearing. There was nothing we could do but stand and wait, and what difference any way - we were as wet as it was possible to be. The storm passed and we started again, to discover a few yards further on an old timber track running in our direction. This led on to a newer track. At the junction we felt justified in cutting an arrow in a tree to mark the turn-off for future trips. A few miles on and we reached the road, about one and a half miles up road from where we had left it the morning before.
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 Frank Ashdown is now on his hind legs complaining about hooliganism at the Federation Reunion due to liquor, and evidence in the shape of empty spirits bottles found lying outside tents next morning. Recollecting his humiliation at the thought of little girl pups especially being subject to such coarseness he moved that if such dogs when "​likkered up" insisted on behaving like gentlemen (well men), they should not be allowed off the chain, in fact expulsion from the Federation Pack was too good for them. Jack Wren agreed that the behaviour had been distinctly over the fence. Brian the Lion (Anderson), said he had nosed in on all the parties ​ (of course) and found them O.K. The one that smelt he left of his own accord, and anyone else who didn't like it was free to do likewise. At this stage an excited little yaller dog yelped "The S.B.W. will have to participate in spinach juice!"​ (Howls of delight, especially from that vegetarian anomaly, Hallstrom.). In a quiet cultivated voice a noble red setter with "​Moppett"​ engraved on his dog-collar said we should lead the way by example and not by complaint. Certainly no evidence should be left lying about - that is in keeping with our policy of "Burn, Bash and Bury", though of course there is no need to bash the old bottle in public. Amid the roar of approval at this sally the cultured voice could be heard continuing, "That, of course, should be done quietly in the privacy of one's tent". The President summed up "Lest the S.B.W. be branded as a miserable complaining lot of hounds let us not write to Federation. Frank may make his protest as an individual but not a Club member"​. Frank Ashdown is now on his hind legs complaining about hooliganism at the Federation Reunion due to liquor, and evidence in the shape of empty spirits bottles found lying outside tents next morning. Recollecting his humiliation at the thought of little girl pups especially being subject to such coarseness he moved that if such dogs when "​likkered up" insisted on behaving like gentlemen (well men), they should not be allowed off the chain, in fact expulsion from the Federation Pack was too good for them. Jack Wren agreed that the behaviour had been distinctly over the fence. Brian the Lion (Anderson), said he had nosed in on all the parties ​ (of course) and found them O.K. The one that smelt he left of his own accord, and anyone else who didn't like it was free to do likewise. At this stage an excited little yaller dog yelped "The S.B.W. will have to participate in spinach juice!"​ (Howls of delight, especially from that vegetarian anomaly, Hallstrom.). In a quiet cultivated voice a noble red setter with "​Moppett"​ engraved on his dog-collar said we should lead the way by example and not by complaint. Certainly no evidence should be left lying about - that is in keeping with our policy of "Burn, Bash and Bury", though of course there is no need to bash the old bottle in public. Amid the roar of approval at this sally the cultured voice could be heard continuing, "That, of course, should be done quietly in the privacy of one's tent". The President summed up "Lest the S.B.W. be branded as a miserable complaining lot of hounds let us not write to Federation. Frank may make his protest as an individual but not a Club member"​.
  
-Now followed a lively debate on the proposed alienation of Domain parkland for the erection ​ of an Opera House. Dormo with hackles bristling spoke long and violently on the subject of walking and culture but was final1y restrained at the third attempt by the President who complained there were too many irrelevancies. When the whole affair was sorted out and Dormo'​s motion with amendments, and amendments of anendments ​carried to the fourth decimal place finally clarified, we found we were all agreed on the motion "that we write to the Parks and Playgrounds Movement endorsing their action in trying to prevent the construction of an Opera House in the Domain, and suggest that an alternative site not involving use of public lands be found"​.+Now followed a lively debate on the proposed alienation of Domain parkland for the erection ​ of an Opera House. Dormo with hackles bristling spoke long and violently on the subject of walking and culture but was final1y restrained at the third attempt by the President who complained there were too many irrelevancies. When the whole affair was sorted out and Dormo'​s motion with amendments, and amendments of amendments ​carried to the fourth decimal place finally clarified, we found we were all agreed on the motion "that we write to the Parks and Playgrounds Movement endorsing their action in trying to prevent the construction of an Opera House in the Domain, and suggest that an alternative site not involving use of public lands be found"​.
  
 "​Good",​ barked bull terrier Brian remembering a plate of meat scraps awaiting him in his refrigerator,​ "​that'​s finished. Now let's go home". "​Good",​ barked bull terrier Brian remembering a plate of meat scraps awaiting him in his refrigerator,​ "​that'​s finished. Now let's go home".
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 Next morning those two carefully nurtured horticultural triumphs, Frank'​s and David'​s beards, went down before the razor and the two of them appeared looking remarkably clean and shiny, while Ross and I, whose beards were made of sterner stuff, decided to cherish our fungus for a week or so longer. Later on we looked up Ron Parkes who was working then at the Hobart "​Mercury",​ and took him to lunch - he paid of course. While eating we talked furiously, all at once, Bushwalker style, until Ron had to go back to work, and we, to prove what absolute tourists we had become, went to the pictures. Next morning those two carefully nurtured horticultural triumphs, Frank'​s and David'​s beards, went down before the razor and the two of them appeared looking remarkably clean and shiny, while Ross and I, whose beards were made of sterner stuff, decided to cherish our fungus for a week or so longer. Later on we looked up Ron Parkes who was working then at the Hobart "​Mercury",​ and took him to lunch - he paid of course. While eating we talked furiously, all at once, Bushwalker style, until Ron had to go back to work, and we, to prove what absolute tourists we had become, went to the pictures.
  
-On Saturday morning we collected Ron and made a photographic sortie on the summit of Mt. Wellington. The following day we visited Hastings Cove, then on Monday morning left by service coach for Port Arthur. This trip is really an experience because you stop at almost every shack and shanty delivering mail, bread, or miscellaneous merchandise. Thus you have ample time to survey the country and philosophise on the Tasmanian way of life. We covered the sixty odd miles in five hours, arriving about lunch time. After lunch and all through the golden afternoon our shutters were clicking happily in that photographer'​s paradise - mellow stone, scarlet flowers and brilliant blue water. For tea we tried that new taste thrill, salted Mellah! Of course we didnit ​mean it to be salted, but as our billy of Mellah was cooling in the bay the tide care in. Next day we walked out to Safety Cove and then to the Remarkable Cave. This latter was originally a blowhole but is now so enlarged that it would function only in exceptionally high seas. The ever-thoughtful Tourist Bureau has provided Steps right down into the spout of the hole, and the tunnel leads from this a hundred yards or so to a little sandy beach at the mouth. The waves wash here and echo through the cave, so what with the hard wet sand underfoot, the seaweed on the walls, and the generally salty tang, the whole thing has very much the dim atmosphere of Davey Jones' locker.+On Saturday morning we collected Ron and made a photographic sortie on the summit of Mt. Wellington. The following day we visited Hastings Cove, then on Monday morning left by service coach for Port Arthur. This trip is really an experience because you stop at almost every shack and shanty delivering mail, bread, or miscellaneous merchandise. Thus you have ample time to survey the country and philosophise on the Tasmanian way of life. We covered the sixty odd miles in five hours, arriving about lunch time. After lunch and all through the golden afternoon our shutters were clicking happily in that photographer'​s paradise - mellow stone, scarlet flowers and brilliant blue water. For tea we tried that new taste thrill, salted Mellah! Of course we didn'​t ​mean it to be salted, but as our billy of Mellah was cooling in the bay the tide care in. Next day we walked out to Safety Cove and then to the Remarkable Cave. This latter was originally a blowhole but is now so enlarged that it would function only in exceptionally high seas. The ever-thoughtful Tourist Bureau has provided Steps right down into the spout of the hole, and the tunnel leads from this a hundred yards or so to a little sandy beach at the mouth. The waves wash here and echo through the cave, so what with the hard wet sand underfoot, the seaweed on the walls, and the generally salty tang, the whole thing has very much the dim atmosphere of Davey Jones' locker.
  
 Back at Port Arthur that afternoon Frank and Snow fell in with a group of Y.H.A. girls, and consequently the four of us were invited to the hostel that evening for supper. Free eats! The hostel in Port Arthur is a rusty old relic set among the rains and was once the domicile of a long deceased political prisoner, Smith O'​Brien. We arrived at dusk and were just settling down by the fire to be sociable when there was a terrific crash on the verandah and Ross and Lavinia, who were sitting by the window, leapt bodily across the room and landed in each other'​s laps. Ross said that a great stick had been flung across the verandah and hit a post. Frank poked his head out of the window and said, "​What'​s going on?" Another crash greeted his challenge, thereupon he withdrew his head with more haste than dignity and shut the window. A brief council of war concluded that it must be the locals disporting themselves and it would be best to ignore them. This we did, and the evening progressed with no further manifestations until we left (after supper) about eleven. The rest of the tale we got next morning. It seems that the boys were fast asleep in the attic and the girls were undressing for bed when one of them saw a face at the window. She screamed and presently the two boys came bundling down from the attic more asleep than awake and bounded out the door in time to see a tall figure disappearing into the gloom. That was the finish; the boys had to leave their warm beds upstairs and move into the same room as the girls. Back at Port Arthur that afternoon Frank and Snow fell in with a group of Y.H.A. girls, and consequently the four of us were invited to the hostel that evening for supper. Free eats! The hostel in Port Arthur is a rusty old relic set among the rains and was once the domicile of a long deceased political prisoner, Smith O'​Brien. We arrived at dusk and were just settling down by the fire to be sociable when there was a terrific crash on the verandah and Ross and Lavinia, who were sitting by the window, leapt bodily across the room and landed in each other'​s laps. Ross said that a great stick had been flung across the verandah and hit a post. Frank poked his head out of the window and said, "​What'​s going on?" Another crash greeted his challenge, thereupon he withdrew his head with more haste than dignity and shut the window. A brief council of war concluded that it must be the locals disporting themselves and it would be best to ignore them. This we did, and the evening progressed with no further manifestations until we left (after supper) about eleven. The rest of the tale we got next morning. It seems that the boys were fast asleep in the attic and the girls were undressing for bed when one of them saw a face at the window. She screamed and presently the two boys came bundling down from the attic more asleep than awake and bounded out the door in time to see a tall figure disappearing into the gloom. That was the finish; the boys had to leave their warm beds upstairs and move into the same room as the girls.
  
-Next morning we returned to Hobart and spent the afternoon having our last look around this little city whose simplicity had won our hearts. As we were starting early in the morning for Queenstown we decided to sleep the night in the Queen'​s Domain, and Ron forsook his cosy bed at the Y.M.C.A. to join us under a pine tree in the park. Early in the morning we were awakened by a friendly little black pooch who, licking tongue and wagging tail, attempted to explore the interior of Snow's sleeping bag. As we were having breakfast he stayed, then went fast asleep on a ground sheet where he stayed until unttl we had to pack it up and go on our way. Regretfully he said Goodbye, and our last glimpse was of him not being quite a gentleman, chasing pigeons off his park.+Next morning we returned to Hobart and spent the afternoon having our last look around this little city whose simplicity had won our hearts. As we were starting early in the morning for Queenstown we decided to sleep the night in the Queen'​s Domain, and Ron forsook his cosy bed at the Y.M.C.A. to join us under a pine tree in the park. Early in the morning we were awakened by a friendly little black pooch who, licking tongue and wagging tail, attempted to explore the interior of Snow's sleeping bag. As we were having breakfast he stayed, then went fast asleep on a ground sheet where he stayed until until we had to pack it up and go on our way. Regretfully he said Goodbye, and our last glimpse was of him not being quite a gentleman, chasing pigeons off his park.
  
 When we boarded our bus for Queenstown we realised that we were on our way home at last. The miles slipped by. Hobart, the suburbs, then the green fields of hops at New Norfolk, the yellow hills and chocolate cultivation of Ouse, and soon the dusty road and dreary scrub with its H.E. construction camps. A few miles before Derwent Bridge we blew one of our back tyres and did a brake line, so we crowded in, in rather a sorry state. After lunch we caught another bus going our way, but alas, all our luggage remained on the cripple. About mid-afternoon we came in view of the dead hills of Queenstown and soon our cameras were clicking happily once more. We called in to see if our luggage had arrived, but it wasn't expected till 6.30, so we had our tea and went over the mine and came back, but still no luggage. Then began a long wait, rewarded about twelve o'​clock,​ long after everyone who had the luxury of a hotel bed had given up. As it was so late we asked the driver if we could sleep in the bus and he said "Yes. Wait at the garage just round the corner, I'll be parking it there"​. So round the corner we went and waited in the garage. A few minutes after we arrived a car drove up and two men got out and went into the garage office just across from us. They put on the light and we could see them peering out at us and obviously wondering what we were up to. Presently they put out the light, got into the car and drove away, but they came round the block a second time to see if we were still there. About ten minutes later a policeman arrived and stood on the opposite side of the road and watched us. In the meantime, however, we had decided to doss down in the bus where it was, so the P.C. had no sooner arrived than we upped packs and off up the street, the puzzled observer following at a discreet distance. He was even more puzzled when we piled into the bus with obvious intentions of staying. But before he had time to do anything the driver arrived, slammed the door, said "Oh, I see you're here", and drove away leaving the unfortunate policeman standing on the footpath scratching his head. When we boarded our bus for Queenstown we realised that we were on our way home at last. The miles slipped by. Hobart, the suburbs, then the green fields of hops at New Norfolk, the yellow hills and chocolate cultivation of Ouse, and soon the dusty road and dreary scrub with its H.E. construction camps. A few miles before Derwent Bridge we blew one of our back tyres and did a brake line, so we crowded in, in rather a sorry state. After lunch we caught another bus going our way, but alas, all our luggage remained on the cripple. About mid-afternoon we came in view of the dead hills of Queenstown and soon our cameras were clicking happily once more. We called in to see if our luggage had arrived, but it wasn't expected till 6.30, so we had our tea and went over the mine and came back, but still no luggage. Then began a long wait, rewarded about twelve o'​clock,​ long after everyone who had the luxury of a hotel bed had given up. As it was so late we asked the driver if we could sleep in the bus and he said "Yes. Wait at the garage just round the corner, I'll be parking it there"​. So round the corner we went and waited in the garage. A few minutes after we arrived a car drove up and two men got out and went into the garage office just across from us. They put on the light and we could see them peering out at us and obviously wondering what we were up to. Presently they put out the light, got into the car and drove away, but they came round the block a second time to see if we were still there. About ten minutes later a policeman arrived and stood on the opposite side of the road and watched us. In the meantime, however, we had decided to doss down in the bus where it was, so the P.C. had no sooner arrived than we upped packs and off up the street, the puzzled observer following at a discreet distance. He was even more puzzled when we piled into the bus with obvious intentions of staying. But before he had time to do anything the driver arrived, slammed the door, said "Oh, I see you're here", and drove away leaving the unfortunate policeman standing on the footpath scratching his head.
  
-In the morning, after an anusually ​prolonged hunt for breakfast, we caught our bus along the dusty road to Zeehan. The inside of the bus was hot as an oven, and the fine grey dust filtered through every gap to coat upholstery and passengers. Zeehan is one of those places dead enough to be a ghost town but it just refuses to lie down. The railway station there suffers from the same lackadaisical attitude and no one but we four seemed even slightly amazed when the porter announced that the train would be starting an hour late. Fortunately our sleepy locomotive finally struggled into action and, setting its listlessness aside, started to wear away the weary miles of dreary bush between us and Burnie. At last we were there, and we set out in the grey of the late afternoon in search of a spot to erect our domicile. We soon found it - the public camping ground - a deserted half acre near the beach, swept by a bleak sea wind and hiding its shame behind a row of bill boards. Here we slept, our dreams punctuated by the shrieks of hysterical engines that puffed along the foreshore. Next morning we cooked our own breakfast - a thing we hadn't done for ages - and then, folding our tents, silently slipped away without paying our camping fee. Soon it was time to catch the airway'​s bus around to Wynyard for the '​plane. This left at about 12 o'​clock,​ and we had cunningly calculated it to be the lunch plane, this latter fact being much dwelt upon. Nor were we disappointed,​ for soon the hostie was around looking for likely ​cantidates ​to dine. Although pretending to be tourists we were still bushwalkers at heart, and told the dear girl our views on free food. Then, before we realised it, we were slipping from cool Tasmania into the midday heat of a mainland ​sunner ​day. A hot wind blew the dust off the tarmac to meet us, and we knew that we were back. And that was that. Melbourne. Then the miles of brown grass, only no longer fields but paddocks. Then with mounting excitement the suburbs, the City, and then Home Sweet Home.+In the morning, after an unusually ​prolonged hunt for breakfast, we caught our bus along the dusty road to Zeehan. The inside of the bus was hot as an oven, and the fine grey dust filtered through every gap to coat upholstery and passengers. Zeehan is one of those places dead enough to be a ghost town but it just refuses to lie down. The railway station there suffers from the same lackadaisical attitude and no one but we four seemed even slightly amazed when the porter announced that the train would be starting an hour late. Fortunately our sleepy locomotive finally struggled into action and, setting its listlessness aside, started to wear away the weary miles of dreary bush between us and Burnie. At last we were there, and we set out in the grey of the late afternoon in search of a spot to erect our domicile. We soon found it - the public camping ground - a deserted half acre near the beach, swept by a bleak sea wind and hiding its shame behind a row of bill boards. Here we slept, our dreams punctuated by the shrieks of hysterical engines that puffed along the foreshore. Next morning we cooked our own breakfast - a thing we hadn't done for ages - and then, folding our tents, silently slipped away without paying our camping fee. Soon it was time to catch the airway'​s bus around to Wynyard for the '​plane. This left at about 12 o'​clock,​ and we had cunningly calculated it to be the lunch plane, this latter fact being much dwelt upon. Nor were we disappointed,​ for soon the hostie was around looking for likely ​candidates ​to dine. Although pretending to be tourists we were still bushwalkers at heart, and told the dear girl our views on free food. Then, before we realised it, we were slipping from cool Tasmania into the midday heat of a mainland ​summer ​day. A hot wind blew the dust off the tarmac to meet us, and we knew that we were back. And that was that. Melbourne. Then the miles of brown grass, only no longer fields but paddocks. Then with mounting excitement the suburbs, the City, and then Home Sweet Home.
  
 ---- ----
Line 294: Line 294:
 by Allen A. Strom. by Allen A. Strom.
  
-__14TH Annual Camp__ was held at Euroka on April 4/5th. 167 attended but the absence of older folk was pronounced. The Campfire ​was very successful. Owing to the heat of the day, most people left early on the Sunday thus defeating the purpose of bringing Clubs together. A complaint about the general tone of the reunion and the effectiveness of the Federation was received from a member of the S.B.W. After much discussion, it was decided to circularise a questionnaire amongst members of affiliated clubs in an effort to determine a more effective way to achieve the aims of the Annual Federation Reunion.+__14TH Annual Camp__ was held at Euroka on April 4/5th. 167 attended but the absence of older folk was pronounced. The campfire ​was very successful. Owing to the heat of the day, most people left early on the Sunday thus defeating the purpose of bringing Clubs together. A complaint about the general tone of the reunion and the effectiveness of the Federation was received from a member of the S.B.W. After much discussion, it was decided to circularise a questionnaire amongst members of affiliated clubs in an effort to determine a more effective way to achieve the aims of the Annual Federation Reunion.
  
 __Pollution of Waterholes__:​ Following reception of a letter on this subject from S.B.W., it was agreed that :- __Pollution of Waterholes__:​ Following reception of a letter on this subject from S.B.W., it was agreed that :-
  
-  -Federation should ​compaign ​against this practice, particularly in areas such as the Warrumbungle Mountains where the soaping of waterholes and troughs had interfered with stock.+  -Federation should ​campaign ​against this practice, particularly in areas such as the Warrumbungle Mountains where the soaping of waterholes and troughs had interfered with stock.
   - Federation should write to Mr. Gale, a farmer in the Warrumbungle Mountain Area, informing him of our action and asking his advice on any factors particularly applicable to his area.   - Federation should write to Mr. Gale, a farmer in the Warrumbungle Mountain Area, informing him of our action and asking his advice on any factors particularly applicable to his area.
  
 __Bushfire Fighting__ in the National Park: The recommendations of the S.B.W. were discussed. It was decided to refer the matter to the Clubs and to call for reports from them at the June meeting of Federation. These reports should contain a list of volunteers. A report was made that numerous fires were left burning in the Megalong Valley over the Easter weekend. It was observed that these were the work of the freelance walker and camper. It was decided to seek Press and Radio publicity in an effort to counteract the practice. __Bushfire Fighting__ in the National Park: The recommendations of the S.B.W. were discussed. It was decided to refer the matter to the Clubs and to call for reports from them at the June meeting of Federation. These reports should contain a list of volunteers. A report was made that numerous fires were left burning in the Megalong Valley over the Easter weekend. It was observed that these were the work of the freelance walker and camper. It was decided to seek Press and Radio publicity in an effort to counteract the practice.
  
-__Fraser Park__: A further effort has been made to step gravel filching by the Trustees of the Palk.+__Fraser Park__: A further effort has been made to step gravel filching by the Trustees of the Park.
  
 __Barren Grounds__: The Fauna Protection Panel will ask that the Grounds be declared a Faunal Reserve. __Barren Grounds__: The Fauna Protection Panel will ask that the Grounds be declared a Faunal Reserve.
Line 349: Line 349:
 It was an uneventful morning as the long column, keeping some surprisingly close order, went down Burnt Flat Creek (narrowly avoiding being misled by new timber-cutters'​ roads) to lunch by the river. The Wollondilly looks quite well, despite the dry, thinly-grassed banks. Two hours for lunch - just a lolly walk! Our afternoon stage was of l 1/2 hours and we camped near Basket Creek 3.45 p.m. - just a lolly walk! Meadows Movietone recorded the arrival at the camp site. "​Don'​t look at the camera!"​ "​__Please don't look__ at the camera!"​ It was an uneventful morning as the long column, keeping some surprisingly close order, went down Burnt Flat Creek (narrowly avoiding being misled by new timber-cutters'​ roads) to lunch by the river. The Wollondilly looks quite well, despite the dry, thinly-grassed banks. Two hours for lunch - just a lolly walk! Our afternoon stage was of l 1/2 hours and we camped near Basket Creek 3.45 p.m. - just a lolly walk! Meadows Movietone recorded the arrival at the camp site. "​Don'​t look at the camera!"​ "​__Please don't look__ at the camera!"​
  
-That night, under a moon with a corona, we held camp-fire. Following the discovery that Frank Ashdow ​was an inveterate home-brewer,​ with forty bottles of highly explosive ginger pop under his back verandah, and several demijohns of a deadly distillation from parsnips, the singing developed into a succession of drinking ballads. Between "​Little Brown Jug" and "​Cigarettes and whisky"​ and "​Whisky Johnny"​ we discussed the circled moon and what it may portend. And we turned in about ten.+That night, under a moon with a corona, we held camp-fire. Following the discovery that Frank Ashdown ​was an inveterate home-brewer,​ with forty bottles of highly explosive ginger pop under his back verandah, and several demijohns of a deadly distillation from parsnips, the singing developed into a succession of drinking ballads. Between "​Little Brown Jug" and "​Cigarettes and whisky"​ and "​Whisky Johnny"​ we discussed the circled moon and what it may portend. And we turned in about ten.
  
 Saturday was fine and windy from the west: 21 of the Party moved off at 8.15, and duly waited for the tail to come up. We waited almost half an hour, while the rear end bolted past on the opposite bank, screened from us by a line of small casuarina. Since our group included the weaker and out-of-condition folk, we elected to go on, to cross the river just above Riley'​s Flat. Here four or five dunked themselves energetically if unintentionally,​ while the film unit, perched on a glassy boulder, used up almost all its film. Another half hour passed while we dried our own tails and waited for arrival of the other tail, then we proceeded again. Saturday was fine and windy from the west: 21 of the Party moved off at 8.15, and duly waited for the tail to come up. We waited almost half an hour, while the rear end bolted past on the opposite bank, screened from us by a line of small casuarina. Since our group included the weaker and out-of-condition folk, we elected to go on, to cross the river just above Riley'​s Flat. Here four or five dunked themselves energetically if unintentionally,​ while the film unit, perched on a glassy boulder, used up almost all its film. Another half hour passed while we dried our own tails and waited for arrival of the other tail, then we proceeded again.
Line 361: Line 361:
 ---- ----
  
-19 +===== Of Special Interest ​To Skiers===== 
-PHOTOGRAPHER'​S HYMN OF HATE. -----------TmErma-rg expressed by Geoff Wags). + 
-- Dot Butler. +Should ​you have the misfortune to have a skiing accident befall you this Season, provide for loss of pay and medical ​expenses ​by taking out a __Bushwalkrs and Skiiers Personal Accident Policy__. 
-I hate you Barr, yOu may be good + 
-At picking trails and eooking food. + 
-You may, for all I know, be sane +|Death by Accident|£200| 
-Enough to catch the last home train. You may be bright, you may be dense, You may prefer a Tessar lense. +|Permanent ​Total Disablement|£200| 
-I hate you though, for be it known +|Permanent Partial ​Disablement|£100| 
-YOUR SHIRTS ARE NEVER KODACHROME1 S. +|Weekly ​Benefit ​whilst Temporarily Disabled|£4| 
-A NUMBER TO REMBICIDER: On Easter Friday the scattered remnant of the shattered 77rrumbungle party caught the mid-day train to Mt. Victoria +|Medical Expenses|£6/6/-| 
-by the skin of their respective teeth, only to find the one taxi the + 
-township boasted had broken down. Dank despair was settling upon +__Premium__ ​£2/10/0 a year. 
-them when a brainwave telephone call to Hatswell at Blackheath produced him and his taxi within 10 minutes. Travelling around 40-50 m p.h. Kanangra was reached in less than two hours, just on sundown. + 
- ​HATSWELL ('​Phone:​ Blackheath 128) is A GOOD BLOKE TO KNOW. +Medical Expenses may be increased to £100 for an additional ​£1/7/6d a year. This policy includes transport accidents to and from the snowfields
-BARRCAROLE (2nd Verse). +
- With joy the boys hearts are aflutter, Ken has coated Frank'​s tonsils with butter Thus reducing his snore +
-From a thunderous roar +
-To a soft oleaginous mutter+
-OF SPECIAL INTEREST TO SKIERS J +
-Should ​youhave ​the misfortune to haVe. a skiing accident befall you this Season, provide for loss of pay and medical ​expaums ​by taking out a +
-BUSHWALKERS AND SKI IERS PERSONAL ACCIDENT POLICY +
-Death by Accident ​200 Permarft ​Total Disablement ​200 +
-Permanent Partial ​n ,100 +
-Weekly ​Denefit ​whilst +
-Temporarily Disabled ​4 +
-Medical Expenses ​6/6/- +
-I Premium ​2,?/10/0 a  ​21garj +
-Medical Expenses may be increased to 100 for an +
-additional ​1/7/6d a year. This policy includes transport accidents to and from the snowfields+
 Alternative policies covering Weekly Benefits and Medical Expenses-ONLY will be quoted on application. Policies are available to all members of Federated Walking Clubs. Alternative policies covering Weekly Benefits and Medical Expenses-ONLY will be quoted on application. Policies are available to all members of Federated Walking Clubs.
 +
 For full particulars see Club Member - For full particulars see Club Member -
-BRIAN G. HARVEY + 
-.12 Mahratta Avenue, Wahroonga. Phone J1N1462 +Brian G. Harvey 
-LOOTS BOOTS + 
-Second only in importance to food boots loom largely in the thoughts of any Bush- walker. Some hardy soles (forgive the pun!) carry 50 lb. pac,:-- r'n Trance ​gaily along in rubber-sOled,​c..a.:​k)73. The rest prefer to clump along iro--clad walk- +12 Mahratta Avenue, Wahroonga. Phone JW1462. 
-ing boots. Serious ​f ng 13 pretty hard on leather boots especially ​it involves continual wading as so =my trips do.+ 
 +---- 
 + 
 +=== Photographer'​s Hymn Of Hate=== 
 + 
 +Sentiments expressed by Geoff Wagg). 
 + 
 +- Dot Butler. 
 + 
 +I hate you Barr, you may be good\\ 
 +At picking trails and cooking food.\\ 
 +You may, for all I know, be sane\\ 
 +Enough to catch the last home train.\\ 
 +You may be bright, you may be dense,\\ 
 +You may prefer a Tessar lense.\\ 
 +I hate you though, for be it known\\ 
 +__Your shirts are never Kodachrome!__ 
 + 
 +---- 
 + 
 +=== A Number To Remember: === 
 + 
 +On Easter Friday the scattered remnant of the shattered Warrumbungle party caught the mid-day train to Mt. Victoria by the skin of their respective teeth, only to find the one taxi the township boasted had broken down. Dank despair was settling upon them when a brainwave telephone call to Hatswell at Blackheath produced him and his taxi within 10 minutes. Travelling around 40-50 m.p.h. Kanangra was reached in less than two hours, just on sundown. 
 + 
 +__Hatswell__ ('​Phone:​ Blackheath 128) is __a good bloke to know__. 
 + 
 +---- 
 + 
 +=== Barracole (2nd Verse). === 
 + 
 +With joy the boys hearts are aflutter,​\\ 
 +Ken has coated Frank'​s tonsils with butter\\ 
 +Thus reducing his snore\\ 
 +From a thunderous roar\\ 
 +To a soft oleaginous mutter. 
 + 
 +---- 
 + 
 +===== Paddy Made. ===== 
 + 
 +=== Boots... Boots... === 
 + 
 +Second only in importance to foodboots loom largely in the thoughts of any Bushwalker. Some hardy soles (forgive the pun!) carry 50 lb. packs and prance ​gaily along in rubber-soled sneakers. The rest prefer to clump along in iron-clad walking ​boots. Serious ​walking is pretty hard on leather boots especially ​if it involves continual wading as so many trips do. 
 Any poor quality leather in sole or heel soon goes flabby and causes trouble, but even the best quality leather is at its worst and can least withstand wear and tear when wet. Any poor quality leather in sole or heel soon goes flabby and causes trouble, but even the best quality leather is at its worst and can least withstand wear and tear when wet.
-When leather is wet one thing must be avoided at all costs and that is heat. There is a saying that any heat which will Melt butter is too hot for wet leather. Don't sit near a fire with wet boots on and don't put wet boots near a fire to dry. 
-The horror of putting on clanmy wet. boots on a cold mornina is largely overcome if one has dry sox: therefore concentrate an sox drying and leave the boots alone. 
-fit 
-PADDY PAWN 
-Lightweight camp Gear 
-201 CASTLE REACH St SYDNEY 
-M2678 
  
 +When leather is wet one thing must be avoided at all costs and that is heat. There is a saying that any heat which will melt butter is too hot for wet leather. Don't sit near a fire with wet boots on and don't put wet boots near a fire to dry.
 +
 +The horror of putting on clammy wet boots on a cold morning is largely overcome if one has dry sox: therefore concentrate on sox drying and leave the boots alone.
 +
 +Paddy Pallin. Lightweight Camp Gear.
 +
 +201 Castlereagh St., Sydney. M2678.
 +
 +----
195405.txt · Last modified: 2018/07/17 00:08 by tyreless