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--- 195411 [2018/08/06 12:49] – tyreless
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 Daylight revealed the fact that we were bedded down among a miscellany of rusty tins with red-backed spiders webbing in their dim recesses. "If there's a town rubbish dump you can trust the Bushwalkers to find it!" No breakfast till we hit the river, so while people packed up, back went the car to collect any further stragglers, but 7 a.m. revealed no more bods. Actually we passed Dick Hoffman and his mirror-image Bob both going and coming. They were in the local cemetery sharing the sacred ground with those who had drunk their cup a round or two before. Our two worthies were also dead to all effects till after 8 a.m. and so didn't see our car pass, and the spotter in the car was unable to make any distinction between who was what in the serried ranks of death. Don and Neil also were wiped off as a dead loss; as a matter of fact they didn't make Marulan till mid-day, so went on to Young (via Prune Vale!) for the weekend.
-We locked the car and left her standing and all headed off for the ridge leading to Cedar Flat. On our second wrong ridge Snow was informed he had left his climbing rope back at the car. While he wen' to retrieve it we selected a third ridge Which proved to be IT. Snow rejoined us and we didn't take more than half an hour to scoot down tc the river, and then breakfast. By 10 a m. we were ready to go places, Was it to be the Block-up, 6 miles each way, i e. 12 miles? Or was it to be Bungonia Gorge, 4 or 5 miles return? The vote was cast in favour of the Block-up so off we set without packs - never mind about lunch, we've just had breakfast! We walked a hundred, maybe two hundred, yards to the bank of the river. What a mighty place for
+We locked the car and left her standing and all headed off for the ridge leading to Cedar Flat. On our second wrong ridge Snow was informed he had left his climbing rope back at the car. While he went to retrieve it we selected a third ridge which proved to be IT. Snow rejoined us and we didn't take more than half an hour to scoot down to the river, and then breakfast. By 10 a.m. we were ready to go places. Was it to be the Block-up, 6 miles each way, i.e. 12 miles? Or was it to be Bungonia Gorge, 4 or 5 miles return? The vote was cast in favour of the Block-up so off we set without packs - never mind about lunch, we've just had breakfast! We walked a hundred, maybe two hundred, yards to the bank of the river. What a mighty place for a swim! What a bon-O pool! What an utterly magnificent set-up to sabotage the proposed hot dry walk! Needless to say we got no further. On with the makeshift swim costumes and ah for a wonderful morning swimming and sunbaking on the sand.
-a swim! What a bon-0 pool! What an utterly magnificent set-up to
-sabotage the proposed hot dry walk! Needless to say we got no further. On with the makeshift swim costumes and ah for a wonderful morning swimming and sunbaking on the sand.
 Garth wanted a raft. The three engineers discussed the project but in the absence of a crosscut or axe his hopes looked like being blighted. However Garth had begun to feel that a raft was essential. While the rest of us sunbaked on a high rock he could be seen on the far bank pushing over and dragging a couple of dead trees into the river. Things began to look promising so in goes Putt, splash! to give assistance. They rowed them up river and worked off quite a lot of surplus energy.
-After lunch, feeling that the S.B.W. is primarily a walking club, we all set out to Bungonia Gorge. We had much fun boulder hopping and scrambling over the huge chunks of limestone, and a
-tentative climb up part of the side walls. There was a small hole about 15 feet up a sheer wall which could have been an entrance to a cave, so employing the sane tactics as the Tigers used on the first ascent of Carlon's Head, to wit, a pyramid of bodies 3 layers high up which the climber scrambles to reach the objective, we managed to get one lightweight bod up to the hole. Ian, being top man, was then given an ankle to hold and hauled up too. The support structure now thought it was time to relieve the strain on sunburnt shoulders so dismantled itself, leaving US stranded in this hole in the wall While they threatened to walk off. The milk of human kindness, however, hac not completely dried up and they reformed the scaffolding ald allowed us to slide down. Then back to camp, an the way discovering that Geof had sprained an ankle which caused a bad limp and a sad slowing down of his native friskiness.
+After lunch, feeling that the S.B.W. is primarily a walking club, we all set out to Bungonia Gorge. We had much fun boulder hopping and scrambling over the huge chunks of limestone, and a tentative climb up part of the side walls. There was a small hole about 15 feet up a sheer wall which could have been an entrance to a cave, so employing the same tactics as the Tigers used on the first ascent of Carlon's Head, to wit, a pyramid of bodies 3 layers high up which the climber scrambles to reach the objective, we managed to get one lightweight bod up to the hole. Ian, being top man, was then given an ankle to hold and hauled up too. The support structure now thought it was time to relieve the strain on sunburnt shoulders so dismantled itself, leaving us stranded in this hole in the wall while they threatened to walk off. The milk of human kindness, however, had not completely dried up and they reformed the scaffolding and allowed us to slide down. Then back to camp, on the way discovering that Geof had sprained an ankle which caused a bad limp and a sad slowing down of his native friskiness.
-After tea we all foregathered around a beautiful campfire. Pat and Ian were the last to arrive, bearing a large billy of fruit punch concocted by master hands and liberally laced with rum, also a huge fruit cake. Amazed at such liberality at a S.B.W. camp, we were aboui,
-to put it down to just another delightful trait of these charming New Zealanders, when Ian said, Oh, by the way, Pat and I have become engaged and this is to celebrate the announcement'. Did we celebrate with enthusiasm! There followed an evening of song and Maori haka, hesitant performers being urged to jog their memories by taking a swic from the rum bottle. This worked every time.
+After tea we all foregathered around a beautiful campfire. Pat and Ian were the last to arrive, bearing a large billy of fruit punch concocted by master hands and liberally laced with rum, also a huge fruit cake. Amazed at such liberality at a S.B.W. camp, we were about to put it down to just another delightful trait of these charming New Zealanders, when Ian said, "Oh, by the way, Pat and I have become engaged and this is to celebrate the announcement". Did we celebrate with enthusiasm! There followed an evening of song and Maori haka, hesitant performers being urged to jog their memories by taking a swig from the rum bottle. This worked every time.
-It was a glorious starry night, and despite pitched tents nearly everyone slept out under the sky. Not Dave though. He had knocked
-over the rum bottle in the tent and spilt half the contents on the
+It was a glorious starry night, and despite pitched tents nearly everyone slept out under the sky. Not Dave though. He had knocked over the rum bottle in the tent and spilt half the contents on the ground. He retired to his rum-soaked couch and slept solidly in an atmosphere of alcohol fumes, regaling us in the morning with some talk about being an Antarctic petrel which vomits at anyone who approaches too close.
-ground. He retired to his rum-soaked couch and slept solidly in an atmosphere of alcohol fumes, regaling us in the morning with some
-talk about being an Antarctic petrel which vomits at anyone who approaches too close.
+While preparing breakfast we were initiated into a prime New Zealand lurk for halting the rot in meat. You take your meat, which is beginning to suffer from B.O., and dip it in boiling water for a few minutes, and then rush it down and cool it rapidly in the river. Repeat every couple of days; this way it will keep for months. (All
-While preparing breakfast we were initiated into a prime New
-Zealand lurk for halting the rot in meat. You take your meat, which is beginning to suffer from B.O., and dip it in boiling water for a few minutes, and then rush it down and cool it rapidly in the river. Repeat every couple of days; this way it will keep for months. (All
 right! All right! Don't believe me; try it yourself!)
-Tcday was to be spent caveing. Taking lunch, torches and-rope we rock-hopped up the Gorge once again, then via a side creek to the Loo-z a out. In the semi-civilized shanbles of an "improved" beauty spot we found a bushwalker tent, erected (you're right again!) in the middle of a heap of rusty tins. In possession were two bearded gentlemen who when we had penetrated their disguises, were revealed as Hoffo and Bob They had resurrected themselves the previous morning, walked out from their cemetery straight across country a sad mistake - and had not yet recovered. They had located several of the caves shown on the map and led us off to see them. A depression in the ground with an 10 crack in it caused whoops of delight - they had stumbled across a new sink-hole. It smelt like  it smelt like,. Have you ever
-smelt a dirty sardine tin Which has been putrefying on a beach in th.-; hot summer sun? Have you ever smelt cattle at the slaughter yard, drooling at the mouth and rolling their eyes upward to where death
-.
-lurks, just between the horns? Have Tou ever smelt - well, never mind - Hoffo said it was the carbide. To ne it smelt like fear.
+Today was to be spent caveing. Taking lunch, torches and rope we rock-hopped up the Gorge once again, then via a side creek to the Lookout. In the semi-civilized shambles of an "improved" beauty spot we found a bushwalker tent, erected (you're right again!) in the middle of a heap of rusty tins. In possession were two bearded gentlemen who when we had penetrated their disguises, were revealed as Hoffo and Bob. They had resurrected themselves the previous morning, walked out from their cemetery straight across country - a sad mistake - and had not yet recovered. They had located several of the caves shown on the map and led us off to see them. A depression in the ground with an 18" crack in it caused whoops of delight - they had stumbled across a new sink-hole. It smelt like... it smelt like... Have you ever smelt a dirty sardine tin which has been putrefying on a beach in the hot summer sun? Have you ever smelt cattle at the slaughter yard, drooling at the mouth and rolling their eyes upward to where death lurks, just between the horns? Have you ever smelt - well, never mind - Hoffo said it was the carbide. To me it smelt like fear.
-We will now, health, danger, public ordinances and other circumstances notwithstanding, take you an a tour of this stink hole (sorry - sink hole!). Outside the sunlight dreamed atop the craggy slopes, the hillsides rang with birdsong, there was a faint 'whisper
- of leaf on leaf and the scent of eucalyptus drifted tantalisingly on the hot dry air as we crammed our ten troglodyte elves through the entrance and with the aid of fixed ropes, torches, acetylene lamps and Grace's enthusiasm began our perilous descent into the dank carcase of the earth. To those of us waiting our turn to descend, snatches of conversation cane whispering eerily up from the void "We'll need a rope - someone pass down a rope - mind my la= -
+We will now, health, danger, public ordinances and other circumstances notwithstanding, take you an a tour of this stink hole (sorry - sink hole!). Outside the sunlight dreamed atop the craggy slopes, the hillsides rang with birdsong, there was a faint whisper of leaf on leaf and the scent of eucalyptus drifted tantalisingly on the hot dry air as we crammed our ten troglodyte selves through the entrance and with the aid of fixed ropes, torches, acetylene lamps and Grace's enthusiasm began our perilous descent into the dank carcase of the earth. To those of us waiting our turn to descend, snatches of conversation came whispering eerily up from the void "We'll need a rope - someone pass down a rope - mind my lamp - do you think it'll go?" Tense minutes pass. From about two galleries down the cultured voice of Ian floats up, "I say Grace old girl, don't cone down yet - I'm in a devil of an awkward position just here!" One last look at the sunlight and at Don and Tine who have no pride and are not coming in, then I wriggle after Snow's disappearing rear, rather wishing I had a torch.
-do you think it'll go?" Tense minutes pass. From about two galleries down the cultured voice of Ian floats up, "I say Grace old girl, don't cone down yet_ - I'm in a devil of an awkward position just here!" One. last look at the sunlight and at Don and Tine who have no pride and are not coming in, then I wriggle after Snow's disappearing rear, rather wishing I had a torch.
-.
+Colin had told us of testers at I.C.I. chemical works who crawl into the boilers through a narrow squeeze hole so that they may bang on the inside with an iron hammer and listen to the WHANG. Sometimes panic sets in and they are unable to get out. The technique then is to urge them to divest themselves of their clothes, what time you play a jet of cold water on them from a hose telling them it will shrink them sufficiently to enable them to squeeze out again. When they are sufficiently uncomfortable they come to accept as truth this asinine piece of reasoning and squeeze out again. But how, I ask you, is one to carry out such a procedure in a cave? The only thing is not to be behind a big bloke who is likely to get stuck. But if you're in front of him going, you're behind him on the return, so where does it get you? Oh well... press on, regardless!
-Colin had told us of testers at chemical works Who crawl into the boilers through a narrow squeeze hole so that they may bang on the inside with an iron hammer and listen to the WHANG. Sometimes panic sets in and they are unable to get out. The technique then is to urge them to divest themselves of their clothes, What time -
-you play a jet of cold water on them from a hose telling them it will shrink them sufficiently to enable them to squeeze out again. When they are sufficiently uncomfortable they come to accept as'truth this asinine piece of reasoning and squeeze out again. But haw, I ask you is one to carry out such a procedure in a cave? The only thing is
+About a hundred feet down in the pitch darkness we encountered (guess what?) blowflies!!! These polyphiloprogenitives, which feast upon putrefaction, what did they have down below to make them buzz so contentedly? (On second thoughts, don't tell me!)
-not to be behind a big bloke who is likely to get stuck. But if you're in front of him going, you're behind him on the return, so Where does it get you? Oh well .. Press on, regardless!
-About a hundred feet down in the pitch darkness we encountered (guess what?) blowflies!!! These polyphiloprogenitives, which feast upon putrefaction, what did they have down below to make them buzz SQ contentedly? (On second thoughts, don't tell me!)
+After several hours, when we had used up all the 250 ft. of rope and wriggled through a narrow sewer for some 50 ft., it seemed to be time to retrace our footsteps. Half the party has disappeared on its way back and I would like to be with them, but Dave has found a string leading off into the void. Should one try to catch up with the others, or should one follow Dave? Dave has the torch, I'll stick with him. Grace and some other unidentified person is also with us. We wriggle for 30 ft. across a low-roofed cavern which eventually offers a neat black hole in the floor. Down this I prepare to go and get half way down a well without much in the way of foot or handholds. Suddenly the light swings away - Dave has gone to see what the others are up to. Dense pitch blackness washes over everything. A wail from the darkness "Snow, where's the light!" Then authoritatively, trying to still the quaver in the voice: "DAVE! COME BACK HERE WITH THAT LIGHT!" Dave returns wearing a faint grin. "What's up, Dotty?" he says. Eventually we get out. Ah, the miracle of sunlight. And isn't fresh air wonderful stuff. Caves! Ugh!
-After several hours, when we had used up all the 250 ft. of rope and wriggled through a narrow sewer for some 50 ft., it seemed to be time to retrace our footsteps. Half the party has disappeared on its way back and I would like to be with them, but Dave has found a string leading off into the void. Should one try to catch up with the others, or should one follow Dave? Dave has the torch, I'll stick with him. Grace and some other unidentified person is also with us. We wriggle for 30 ft. across a low-roofed cavern which eventually offers a neat black hole in the floor. Down this I prepare to go and get half way down a well without much in the way of foot or handholds
-Suddenly the light swings away - Dave has gone to see what the otherare up to. Dense pitch blackness washes aver everything. A wail fro::
+In the remaining daylight we dropped down the hot dry ridge to the river and so back to camp. A swim, followed by a meal of the deodorized steak and a gathering by the camp fire till 10 p.m., and then sleep. Kookaburras, whip birds and lyre birds woke us early next morning and the camp was soon astir. We hung a rope from a high branch of a red cedar tree and Colin and Garth demonstrated the intricacies of Prussic slings, used by mountaineers to get themselves out of crevasses they have fallen in - if they're very lucky. The boys then warmed up with field sports - shot putt, caber toss, discus hurling and so on. Tine and Don were meanwhile settling a little domestic difference. The devout couple was or were chasing each his better half round the blackthorn bushes with a full water bucket. Why did Geof barge in? He was sorry the moment he'd done it as he collected the contents of a water bucket over his head, followed at rapid intervals by the carbide waste from Snow's caveing lamp, somebody's coffee grounds, and the scrapings from someone else's porridge billy. "Now, hold it a minute", said Snow. "I want a photo of that. Someone be ready with a billy of water to throw in his face just as I snap it. That was fine. Thanks Geof, old man. Now what about going away for a swim - you stink!"
-the darkness "Snow, where's the light!" Then authoritatively, trying to still the quaver in the voice: "DAVE: CCNE BACK HERE WITH THAT LIGHT!" Dave returns wearing a faint grin. "What's up, Dotty?" he says. Eventually we get out. Ah, the miracle of sunlight. And isn't fresh air wonderful stuff. Caves! Ugh!
-In the remaining daylight we dropted down the hot dry ridge to the river and so back to camp. A swim, followed by a meal of the deodorized steak and a gathering by the camp fire till 10 p m., and then sleep. Kookaburras, whip birds and lyre birds woke us early next morning and the camp was soon astir  We hung a rope from a high branch of a red cedar tree and Colin and Garth demonstrated the intricacies of Prussic slings, used by mountaineers to get themselves out of crevasses they have fallen in - if they're very lucky. The boys then warmed up with field sports - shot putt, caber toss, discus hurling and so on. Tine and Don were meanwhile settling a little domestic difference. The devout couple was or were chasing each his better half round the blackthorn bushes with a full water bucket. Why did Geof barge in.? He was sorry the moment he'd done it as he collected the contents of a water bucket over his head, followed at rapid intervals by the carbide waste from Snow's caveing lamp, somebody-'s coffee grounds, and the scrapings from_ someone else's porridge billy. "Now, hold it a minute", said Snow. "I want a photo of that. Someone be ready with a billy of water to throw in his face just as I snap it. That was fine. Thanks Geof, old man. Now what about going away for a swim - you stinks"
+A swim, did someone say? That's a great thought, and soon we were all down an the far bank. We brought a rope over, and selecting a likely-looking dead tree overhanging the river we kicked off all the surplus dead branches and made a swing. All the morning was spent on this. We tried it forwards, backwards and sideways, right way up and upside down, and in a wide circular sweep, terminating each swing with a crash into the water. When all the solo tricks were exhausted someone thought up doublers. This naturally made us think of the engaged couples, so Pat and Ian were urged into position both holding on to the stick, and launched into the deep. It was a mighty performance. Next it was Tine and Don's turn, but Tine refused to be bullied so we made do with the two heavyweights, Colin and Garth. Over the sand they came at a gallop - Colin, 18 hands high, 200 lbs. paddock weight, the Pride of the Pampas, with Garth on his back as it were. The swing's full momentum carried them well out over the river, and letting go simultaneously they plummeted towards the aqua, Garth crashing in no uncertain manner on Colin's sunburnt back. The party on the sand roard its appreciation. Ian was convulsed with laughter. "That was priceless", he gasped, "now I've seen everything!" "By no means", said Colin. "You never made a greater mistake, excuse yourself. That is the least of my injuries. Wait till I come out." And sure enough, as Colin emerged Ian realised that he hadn't till now seen everything - Garth had neatly sheared off the whole seat of Colin's pants. A careful exit from the water, the wrapping of a wide multi-coloured scarf as a lap-lap, and modesty was served.
-.
-A swim, did someone say? Thatte a great thought; and soon we were all down an the far bank. We brought a rope over, and selecting a likely-looking dead tree overhanging the river we kicked off all the surplus dead branches and made a swing. All the morning was spent on this. We tried it forwards, backwards and sideways, right way up and upside down, and in a wide circular sweep, terminating each swing with a. crash into the water. When all the solo trioks were eXhausted someone thought up doublers. This naturally made us think of the engaged couples, so Pat and Ian were urged into position both holding on to the stick, and launched into the deep. It was a mighty performance. Next it was Tine and Don's turn, but Tine refused to be bulliec. so we made do with the two heavyweights, Colin and Garth. Over the sand they came at a gallop - Colin, 18 hands high, 200 lbs. paddock weight, the Pride of the Pampas, with Garth on his back as it were. The swing's full momentum carried them well out over the river, clad letting go simultaneously they plummeted towards the aqua, Garth crashing in no uncertain manner an Colin's sunburnt back. The party on the sand roard its appreciation. Ian was convulsed with laughter. "That was priceless", he gasped, "now I've seen everything:" "By no means", said Colin. "You never made a greater mistake, excuse yourself. That is the least of my injuries. Wait till I come out.' And sure enough, as Colin emerged Ian realised that he hadn't till now seen everything - Garth had neatly sheared off the whole seat of Colin's pants. A careful exit from the water, the wrapping of a wide multi-coloured scarf as a lap-lap, and modesty was served.
+When hunger called we returned for lunch, then packed up and departed up the ridge carrying a couple of full water-buckets for the car. Colin drove the hitchers out to the road while the others walked on, then picked up the final load and so back along Route 31 in a steady stream of traffic. Later this thinned out so we could speed along singing, lights gleaming along the road, dark trees etched against the sky flitting past, and our thoughts dwelling softly on yet mother holiday of happy companionship and laughter.
-When hunger called we returned for lunch, then packed up and departed up the ridge carrying a couple of full water-buckets for the car. Colin drove the hitchers out to the road while the others walked on, then picked up the final load and so back along Route 31 in a steady stream of traffic. Later this thinned out so we 'toad speed along singing, lights gleaming along the road, dark trees
-etched against the sky flitting past, and our thoughts dwelling soft17 on yet mother holiday of happy companionship and laughter.
 ----
-...... Detach and.Mail
+=== The Sydney Bushwalkers Annual Christmas Party. ===
-The Social Secretary, The Sydney Bush Walkers, Box 4476, G.P.O.,
-SYDNEY.
+Friday 10 December. R.S.L. Hall, Elizabeth St., Sydney.
-Please send me   tickets for the Annual Christmas Party.
-Name
+Dancing 8 - 12 midnight. Dress optional.
-Full Postal Address
-Amount Enclosed E,
+Tickets 15/-. All liquid refreshements available right prices.
+... Detach and Mail ...
+The Social Secretary, The Sydney Bush Walkers, Box 4476, G.P.O., Sydney.
+Please send me ... tickets for the Annual Christmas Party.
+Name ...
+Full Postal Address ...
+Amount Enclosed £ : : d.
 ----
-IF YOU ARE GOING PLACES CONTACT
+=== Scenic Motor Tours. ===
-SCENIC MOTOR TOURS,
---NriTur7-77=-
+If you are going places, contact Scenic Motor Tours, Railway Steps, Katoomba.
-KATOOMBA.
-DAILY TOURS BY PARLOR COACH TO THE WORLD FAMOUS JENOLAN CAVES AND ALL BLUE MOUNTAIN SIGHTS.
+Daily tours by parlor coach to the world famous Jenolan Caves and all Blue Mountain sights.
-TRANSPORT BY COACHES FOR PARTIES OF BUSH- WALKERS TO KANANGRA WALLS, GINKIN OR OTHER MUTABLE POINTS BY ARRANGENENT,
-FOR ALL INFORMATION
+Transport by coaches for parties of bushwalkers to Kanangra Walls, Ginkin or other suitable points by arrangement.
-WRITE TO P.O. BOX 60; KATOOMBA. TETRPHONE 60, KATOOMBA.
-O.
+For all information, write to P.O. Box 60, Katoomba. Telephone 60, Katoomba.
 ----
-You press the button, we'll do the rest t
+=== Photography!?!?! ===
+You press the button, we'll do the rest!
+Finegrain Developing. Sparkling Prints. Perfect Enlargements. Your Rollfilms or Leica films deserve the best service.
+Leica Photo Service.
+Macquarie Place, Sydney, N.S.W.
 ----
-FEDERATION NOTES _- OCTOBER.
+===== Federation Notes - October. =====
 - Allen A. Strom.
-BUSHFIRE  FIGHTING SQUAD FOR NATIONAL PAW: Five Clubs submitted
-thirty five names fo77717777177-777717esident of Federation has
+=== Bushfire Fighting Squad for National Park: ===
-discussed arrangements with Mr. M.E. Messer, ChaLrman of The Bushfire Committee, and will hand on the names submitted to the Sutherland Shire Bushfire Brigade; it is contemplated that a Training School will now be organised.
-DO YOU WANT A  FEDERATION BALL T There is no Convener for the Social Committee. If you are interested in a Ball you may care to undertalTe the job of Convenor  or use your influence to persuade one of your friends.
+Five Clubs submitted thirty five names for this Squad. The President of Federation has
-FEDERATION REEMION: This will continue to take place on the Second
+discussed arrangements with Mr. M.E. Messer, Chairman of The Bushfire Committee, and will hand on the names submitted to the Sutherland Shire Bushfire Brigade; it is contemplated that a Training School will now be organised.
-Weekend-7727ZETter. club Secretaries will be informed that the Federation requests no liquor to be consumed at the Reunion and that
-.
+=== Do You want a Federation Ball? ===
-offenders may be asked to leave the campsite.
-SEARCH AND RESCUE SECTION SECRETARY: Mr. Peter Cameron of the 7777-77-7777d to 717-5777757.
+There is no Convener for the Social Committee. If you are interested in a Ball you may care to undertake the job of Convenor... or use your influence to persuade one of your friends.
-FRAZER PARK. The Lands Department will advise the Trustees (Wyong sE777771=1) that no new quarry should be opened WO.,
+=== Federation Reunion: ===
+This will continue to take place on the Second Weekend Before Easter. Club Secretaries will be informed that the Federation requests no liquor to be consumed at the Reunion and that offenders may be asked to leave the campsite.
+=== Search and Rescue Secretary: ===
+Mr. Peter Cameron of the C.M.W. was elected to this position.
+=== Frazer Park. ===
+The Lands Department will advise the Trustees (Wyong Shire Council) that no new quarry should be opened up.
 The October Meeting of the Fauna Protection Panel agreed to recommend to the Minister that 30,000 acres of Crown Land in the Nadgee Area should be dedicated a Faunal Reserve.
-PROTECTION  AND PREBBRVATION OF ABORIGINAL RELICS: There has recently E757reFeTed acTIVIE7-7771777-1707717717n enaMd on this matter. It is proposed that a Panel should be set IVO to administer theAct.
-BUNGONIA GORGE: A recent visit to the area has shown that mining ECTY7rErg7 have moVed no closer to the Gorge proper. A letter has been sent to the Trust of the Bungonia Caves asking Whether they are Prepared to make approaches to the Department. of Mines. Overtures have also been made to the Commonwealth Tourist Authorities.
+=== Protection and Preservton of Aboriginal Relics: ===
-BARRINGTON: An interim report concerning a National Park in the area 777-7717Feceived from the Northern Parks and Playgrounds Movement. It is also known that a Forestry Officer working under a UNESCO Grant has recently completed a survey of the Tops.
-wonmmerses.....Matarogyiwirompass..
+There has recently been renewed activity to have legislation enacted on this matter. It is proposed that a Panel should be set up to administer the Act.
-THE ADMIRALtS MADCAP MARATHON 1954 STYLE.
+=== Bungonia Gorge: ===
+A recent visit to the area has shown that mining activities have moved no closer to the Gorge proper. A letter has been sent to the Trust of the Bungonia Caves asking whether they are prepared to make approaches to the Department of Mines. Overtures have also been made to the Commonwealth Tourist Authorities.
+=== Barrington: ===
+An interim report concerning a National Park in the area has been received from the Northern Parks and Playgrounds Movement. It is also known that a Forestry Officer working under a UNESCO Grant has recently completed a survey of the Tops.
+----
+===== The Admiral's Madcap Marathon, 1954 Style. =====
 - Frank Rigby.
-You've probably been on one of the Admiral's trips - you know, the type that always manages to begin in utter confusion. Well, the Kanangra Walls - Cloudmaker Tiwilla Katoomba two-day madcap marathon was no exception. For instance, who cares if the "organised" transport to the Walls has gone astray somewhere and taxis are as scarce as hen's teeth? Apparently not the Admiral. "I was only kidding about this tiger trip, anyway" he says.
-Picture the post office scene at Blackheath at 11 p m. on that dark, chilly Friday night. Two undaunted stalwarts are on the blower5 0 trying desperately to interest the reluctant taxi fraternity of Katoathba in our plight. The Admiral paces up and down the bridge outside wearing his famous vacant expression, while Yours Truly, with definite 'White Ant tendencies, squats in the gutter dreaming of a blissful, loafing weekend down at Blue Gum. The blower-operators have closed down amid oaths and curses - fortunately they have in their mad quest. Aha, all is now lost - we are resigned to a spine-bashing destiny. But wait! Fate has thwarted me once again - the wretched coach has just rolled up and the Admiral has pounced on its driver. Alas, it is Kanangra or bust nou, and so we press on regardless. That does it matter if you have to push the lazy vehical up the Porcupine? Why should you complain if you don't finally bag
+You've probably been on one of the Admiral's trips - you know, the type that always manages to begin in utter confusion. Well, the Kanangra Walls - Cloudmaker - Tiwilla - Katoomba two-day madcap marathon was no exception. For instance, who cares if the "organised" transport to the Walls has gone astray somewhere and taxis are as scarce as hen's teeth? Apparently not the Admiral. "I was only kidding about this tiger trip, anyway" he says.
-.
-clown until 2 a m., are hauled out again at 5, aid haven't slept in the interim because of hard planks and mopokes? The answers are unprintable.
+Picture the post office scene at Blackheath at 11 p.m. on that dark, chilly Friday night. Two undaunted stalwarts are on the blower, trying desperately to interest the reluctant taxi fraternity of Katoomba in our plight. The Admiral paces up and down the bridge outside wearing his famous vacant expression, while Yours Truly, with definite White Ant tendencies, squats in the gutter dreaming of a blissful, loafing weekend down at Blue Gum. The blower-operators have closed down amid oaths and curses - fortunately they have failed in their mad quest. Aha, all is now lost - we are resigned to a spine-bashing destiny. But wait! Fate has thwarted me once again - the wretched coach has just rolled up and the Admiral has pounced on its driver. Alas, it is Kanangra or bust now, and so we press on regardless. What does it matter if you have to push the lazy vehical up the Porcupine? Why should you complain if you don't finally bag down until 2 a.m., are hauled out again at 5, and haven't slept in the interim because of hard planks and mopokes? The answers are unprintable.
-The pre-dawn gloom, the feeble brain impulses inseparable from this absurd hour of the day, and the incombustible Kanangra wood all combine to make breakfast something of a struggle. However, the sun rose up into a cloudless, breathless sky, and with it the Promise of
-glorious day-to come. This spurred our languid efforts to some extent, and so, despite all, the eight sleepless frames mooched out on to the Kanangra Tops in rather bedraggled fashion at something after seven. Our slow-revving, long-stroke leader, with whip as yet cunningly concealed, led the way, closely followed by Jim Hooper with new movie camera straining at the leash, trying to be compatible with Odin Putt who was flinging pointed curses at the wicked disease of photography which, according to Colin, seems to have stricken so many of our walkers with creeping paralysis. That man of stamina, Arne Jotsson, strode out with an enviable confidence reminiscent of those rare walkers who possess seemingly bottoMless pits brimming over with encrgy. Next cane prospective Ted Smith, showing admirable courage in taokling this trip, only his second with the Club, and then Yours TruLy; alternating between suspicious glances at the mighty Cloudmakc: aheua, and wistful daydreams of the tranquility and inertia of weekenda spent at Blue Gum Forest or Euroka. A tried and tested tail comTrised our pair fresh from New Zealand, lone femme Betty Swain, and try-anything-once Pete Stitt. All in all a mixed bag, I felt, but a bag from which some strange apparitions would inevitably appear, Hcw prophetic and how true!
+The pre-dawn gloom, the feeble brain impulses inseparable from this absurd hour of the day, and the incombustible Kanangra wood all combine to make breakfast something of a struggle. However, the sun rose up into a cloudless, breathless sky, and with it the promise of a glorious day to come. This spurred our languid efforts to some extent, and so, despite all, the eight sleepless frames mooched out on to the Kanangra Tops in rather bedraggled fashion at something after seven. Our slow-revving, long-stroke leader, with whip as yet cunningly concealed, led the way, closely followed by Jim Hooper with new movie camera straining at the leash, trying to be compatible with Colin Putt who was flinging pointed curses at the wicked disease of photography which, according to Colin, seems to have stricken so many of our walkers with creeping paralysis. That man of stamina, Arne Jonsson, strode out with an enviable confidence reminiscent of those rare walkers who possess seemingly bottomless pits brimming over with encrgy. Next came prospective Ted Smith, showing admirable courage in tackling this trip, only his second with the Club, and then Yours Truly, alternating between suspicious glances at the mighty Cloudmaker ahead, and wistful daydreams of the tranquility and inertia of weekends spent at Blue Gum Forest or Euroka. A tried and tested tail comprised our pair fresh from New Zealand, lone femme Betty Swain, and try-anything-once Pete Stitt. All in all a mixed bag, I felt, but a bag from which some strange apparitions would inevitably appear. How prophetic and how true!
-After a bit of jiggery-pokery in which the Admiral had us all
-at sea, we hit upon the cleft running from the Tops down to our ridge an then stepped it out along to Craft's Walls, where our first rest of "two minutes only, you peasants" fortuna tely degenerated into a qua2ter-hour Photographic ramble. From then on, though, the whip was alwfys handy, and potential white-antism was invariably nipped in the bud. This was serious business, I guessed, as the Admiral's face began to assume that strained expression of pseudo-responsibility only he can conjure. Up the High, over the High and Mighty, and then the Mighty - and what high and mighty panoramas were opening up on
+After a bit of jiggery-pokery in which the Admiral had us all at sea, we hit upon the cleft running from the Tops down to our ridge and then stepped it out along to Craft's Walls, where our first rest of "two minutes only, you peasants" fortunately degenerated into a quarter-hour photographic ramble. From then on, though, the whip was always handy, and potential white-antism was invariably nipped in the bud. This was serious business, I guessed, as the Admiral's face began to assume that strained expression of pseudo-responsibility only he can conjure. Up the High, over the High and Mighty, and then the Mighty - and what high and mighty panoramas were opening up on every side. The view back along the massive Kanangra Deep was particularly impressive. Ahead and above reared the Cloudmaker massif, and one by one we stormed and won its lesser bastions of Rip, Rack, Roar and Rumble, until at last the summit itself was ours just as the noonday hour approached. I must admit that the summit of Cloudmaker is somewhat uninspiring. After such a struggle, one might expect to be rewarded with, at the least, a view. However, it's one of those mountains that are undoubtedly good for the prestige. Looming up like a giant as it does from all horizons, to have traversed the mighty Cloudmaker is to have become a bushwalker tried and true - or so the tourists would have it, anyway. And so down to the Tiwilla Pass for lunch. Oh, what dastardly curses and ungentlemanly oaths flowed out into that pure mountain air when it was discovered that the staple lunch item, the so-and-so biscuits, had been completely omitted from the Admiral's food party lists. We are beginning to see the reason behind Brian's light-weight fanaticism - it's apparently because he can't help it.
-ever7 side. The view back along the massive Kanangra Deep was partice
-uly impressive. Ahead and above reared the Claudmaker massif, and
+The afternoon passed away pleasantly with the stroll across Tiwilla Plateau and down the Tiwilla Buttress to the Kowmung. I can thoroughly recommend the Buttress with its gently-sloping, open, easy-going ridge; besides, extra good time can be made on this section owing to the absence of kodachromatic material.
-olie Iv one we stormed and won its lesser bastions of Rip, Rack, Roar
- and Rumble, until at last the summit itself was ours just as the nponda7 hgur approached. I must admit that the summit of Cloudmaker
+What happens when a party, nearing its evening campsite, splits into two equal factions and the "Leader" is relegated to the rearguard? Let me tell you. "Wait for us down at the Tiwilla Creek junction" warns our tiring Chieftain; and did that advance guard wait? Like merry hell they did! Cooee contact was eventually established and it appeared the erring ones had found a haven some half-mile upstream. "I'll show 'em who's bossing this outfit" and flinging down pack, our gallant crusader, with features contorted like those of a mad bull, pranced off in the best admiral's tradition to do battle with the renegades. What ensued we can only guess at, but, judging by our Leader's browbeaten, faltering return some fifteen minutes later, we knew that he had met his Waterloo. "After all, they had the tents half up and a couple of fires going. That __could__ I do?" he wailed. The fact that the advance guard had hit upon an infinitely superior campsite to the Junction was, of course, merely incidental and insignificant in the Admiral's scheme of things.
-somewItt uninspiring. After such a struggle, one might expect to ,be rewarded with, at the least, a view. However, it's one of those mountains that are undoubtedly good for the prestige. Looming up lih
-a giant Ls it does from all horizons, to have traversed the mighty
+Impromptu food-partying with Colin Putt can be fun. Odd and sundry ingredients from the tucker bags of several bods are combined in an unpremeditated fashion in Colin's communal billy, set over a roaring fire. Despite all the laws of science, the result is invariably a feast of both quality and qlantity, especially the latter. After just such an orgy of eating, on top of some forty virtually sleepless hours, no threats were required to make us hit the hay like obedient five-year-olds. Even the Leader's grim forecast of a 6.30 start on the morrow failed to provoke the belligerent protests customary on more animated occasions.
-Cloudmaker is to have become a bushwalker tried and true - or so the tourists would have it, anyway. And so down to the Tiwilla Pass for
-lunch. Oh, what dastardly curses and ungentlemanly oaths flowed out into that pure mountain air when it was discovered that the staple
+From the moment Brian slowly and sorely raised his long frame from the good earth, I knew that the 6.30 start would prove to be a fallacy. After all, you can't light a fire with green logs in five minutes, can you Brian? No, it takes fully thirty. If you hadn't been the Leader I'd have accused you of deliberate White Anting with so much dry tinder around for the taking. Then, of course, Jim Hooper and Peter Stitt had somehow yet to have their eyelids raised, no easy task without a plug of gelignite. Ah yes, time there was a-plenty. And then it happened! The Admiral's billy of rice, prepared at great effort and cost, was sitting out on the open prairie in perfect repose while its contents cooled for eating. What __could__ upset it? Why, nothing else save the Admiral's No.10 hoof! And where did the rice flow? Why, straight on top of the biggest meadow cake for miles around. And what was also inverted during the gourmet's prancing rage? Of course it was the full billy of milk intended for covering the first course. Yes Jim, you __were__ right about the foreign flavour in your breakfast that Sunday morning.
-lunch item, the so-and-so biscuits, had been completely omitted from the Admiral's food party lists. We are beginning to see the reason behind Brian's light-weight fanaticism - it's apparently because he can't help it.
-.
+After a series of false alarms, Anderson style, we finally hit the trail at 7.45. Sixteen miles behind us and twenty-seven ahead. Did I say twenty-seven? I sure did, and I mean every inch of it, with 3,000 feet upwards thrown in for good measure. The first part was unbelievably pleasant and exhilarating and we swung along in great style down the Kowmung to the Cox Junction, where an early lunch was started at something like 1100 hours. After supplying the no-biscuits party with free bread, they were too tight even to purchase a surplus tin of sardines from me to bolster their meagre rations. "Why should we pay", they chorused, "when we can take by force?" Such are the animal instincts developed on these tiger trips - keep well away fram them. I hid my sardines in the farthest corner of my pack and kept my distance...
-The afternoon passed away pleasantly with the stroll across Tiwilla Plateau and down the Tiwilla Buttress to the Kowmung. I can thoroughly recommend the Buttress with its gently-sloping, open, easygoing ridge; besides, extra good time can be made on this section owing to the absence of kodachromatic material.
-What happens when a party, nearing its evening campsite, splits into two equal factions and the "Leader" is relegated to the rear uard Let inc tell you. "Wait for us down at the Tiwilla Creek junction warns our tiring Chieftain; and did that advance guard wait? Like merry hell they did: Cooee contact was eventually established and it appeared the erring ones had found a haven some half-nfle upstreamc "I'll show 'em who's bossing this outfit" and flinging down pack, our gallant crusader, with features contorted like those of a mad bull, pranced off in the best admiral's tradition to do battle with the renegades. What ensued we can only guess at, but, judging by our Leader's browbeaten, faltering return some fifteen minutes later, we knew that he had met his Waterloo. "After all, they had the tents half up and a couple of fires going. That could I do?" he wailed. The fact that the advance guard had hit upoir7E-infinitely superior campsite to the Junction was, of course, merely incidental and insignificant in the Admiral's scheme of things.
+Onwards, ever onwards! Up the steep end of the White Dog spur we plodded, with physical staminas slowly but surely on the wane. At Kelpie Hill, Brian, Peter and Betty decided to advance more leisurely, while the rest of us, with visions of the last train chortling off without us, started the long burn into Katoamba, a sweat-and-tears trek that I shall never forget. I was quite happy as far as Clear Hill, but with the level going and those high-powered steam engines Hooper, Jonsson and Putt alternately taking over the pacing, it was a constant struggle for little "chuffas" like me. From Glenraphael Swamp to the Falls Kiosk our train was truly express. Had we stopped once, I am quite certain that we wouldn't have moved again that day. By collapsing into a taxi at the Falls Kiosk we managed to steal time for a most welcome meal.
-Impromptu food-partying with Colin Putt can be fun. Odd and sundry ingredients from the tucker bags of several bods are combined in an unpremeditated fashion in Colin's communal billy, set over a
- roaring fire. Despite all the laws of science, the result is invariably a feast of both quality and qlantity, especially the latter. After just such an orgy of eating, on top of some forty virtually sleepless hours, no threats were required to make us hit the hay like obedient five-year-olds. Even the Leader's grim forecast of a 6.30 start on the morrow failed to provoke the belligerent protests customary on more animated occasions.
+The hour had come when we must try desperately to somehow drive our tortured bodies to the station; and there followed such a cireus act as the citizenry of Katoomba had never been treated to before. Rigor Mortis had set in en masse during our relaxation at the cafe and we had degenerated into a bunch of old crocks. Staggering, lurching, and creaking at every joint, our plight was indeed a sorry one, but not without its humorous side. I could honestly state that we did not radiate that "how to win members and influence people" effect at this stage of the marathon.
-From the moment Brian slowly and sorely raised his long frame from the good earth, I knew that the 6.30 start would prove to be a 'fallacy. After all, you can't light a fire with green logs in five minutes, can you Brian? No it tahes fully thirty. If you hadn't been the Leader I'd have accused you of deliberate White Anting with so much dry tinder around for the taking. Then, of course, Jim Hooper and Peter Stitt had somehow yet to have their eyelids raised, no easy task without a plug of gelignite. Ala yes, time there was a-plenty. And then it happened: The Admiral's billy of rice, prepared at great effort and cost, was sitting out on the open prairie in perfect repose while its contents cooled for eating. What could upset it? Why,
-nothing else save the Admiral's No.10 hoof! And where did the rice flow? Why, straight on top of the biggest meadow calm for miles around,. And what was also inverted during the gourmet's prancing rage': Of course it was the full- billy of milk. intended for covering the first course. Yes Jim, you were right about the foreign flavour in your breakfast that Sunday =nig.
+Having fallen in a heap on the platform, the burning question then was whether our gallant Leader's minority group would have the physical reserve necessary to turn up in time for the train; and staunch warriors that they proved to be, that they did just in the nick of time. Suffering much the same effects as we, they had just had time to grab some cakes and biscuits to keep body and soul together.
-.
-After a series of false alarms, Anderson style, we finally hit' the trail at 7.45. Sixteen miles behind us and twenty-seven ahead. Did T oay twenty-seven? I 'sure did,'and I mean every inch of it, with 3,000 feet upwards thrown in for good measure. The first part
+Nor was the position much improved at Central Station. As we lurched our several ways I'm sure that most of us made ourselves a secret promise that our next outing would be, shall we say, more in the order of a nice, soft, instructional weekend or a Sunday cakewalk. We had come, seen, and been conquered, but had lived to tell the tale. Three cheers for the Admiral and his crew of sturdy henchmen!
-. was unbelievably pleasant and exhilarating and we swung along in
-great style down the Kowmung to the Cox Junction, where an early lunch was started at something like 1100 hours. After supplying the no-biscuits Party with free bread, they were too tight even to pure:, chase a surplus tin of sardines from me to bolster their meagre rations. 6Why should we pay", they chorused, "when we can take by force?" Such are the animal Instincts developed on these tiger trips- keep well away fram them. I hid my sardines in the farthest corner of my pack and kept my distance
+----
-Onwards, ever onwards! Up the steep end of the White Dog spur we plodded, with physical staminas slowly but surely on the wane. At Kelpie Hill, Brian, Peter and Betty decided to advance more leisurely, while the rest of us, with visions of the last train chortling off without us, started the long burn into Katoamba, a sweat-and-tears trek that I shall never forget. I was quite happy as far as Clear Hill, but with the level going and those high-powered steam engines Hooper, Jonsson and Putt alternately taking over the pacing, it was a constant struggle for little "chuffas" like me. From Glenraphael Swam to the Falls Kiosk our train was truly express. Had we stopped once, I am quite certain that we wouldn't have moved again that day. By collapsing into a taxi at the Falls Kiosk we managed to steal time for a most welcome meal.
-The hour had come When we must try desperately to somehow drive our tortured bodies to the station; and there followed such a cireus act as the citizenry of Katoomba had never been treated to before. Rigor Mortis had set in en masse during our relaxation at the eafe and we had degenerated into a bunch of old crocks. Staggering, lurching, and creaking at every joint, our plight was indeed a sorry one, but not without its humorous side. I could honestly state that we did not radiate that "how to win members and influence people" effect at this stage of the marathon.
+=== Credit where it is due: ===
-Having fallen in a heap on the platform, the burning question then was whetter our gallant Leader Ts minority group would have the physical reserve necessary to turn Up it time for the train; and staunch warriors that they proved to be, that they did just in the nick of time. Suffering much the same effects as we, they had just had time to grab some cakes and biscuits to keep body and soul together.
-Nor was the position much improved at Central Station. As we
+Before too many people start congratulating the Editor for the extremely valuable Index to Walks which has appeared in the two previous issues, we would hasten to point out that this lengthy piece of research is the work of your President, Jim Brown. We should have acknowledged it before.
-lurched our several waysI'm sure that most of us made ourselves a secret promise that our next outing would be, shall we say, more in the order of a nice, soft, instructional weekend or a Sunday cakewalk. We had come, seen, and been conquered, but had lived to tell the tale. Three cheers for the Admiral and his crew of sturdy henchmen!
+----
-CREDIT WHERE CREDIT IS DUE Before too many people start congratuTaing thetor for Elieextremely valuable Index to Walks which has appeared in the two previous issues, we would hasten to point out that this lengthy piece of research is the work of your President, Jim Brown. We should have acknowledged it before.
 .
 KOSCIUSKO INVASION.