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196104 [2016/02/16 00:13]
tyreless
196104 [2016/02/16 03:54] (current)
tyreless
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 Our thirty-third Annual General Meeting commenced with a welcome to two new members, Giesler Kowlowski and Vince Aitken. Apologies were received from Tan McKenzie, Joe Turner, Edna Garrad and Morrie Berry. Our thirty-third Annual General Meeting commenced with a welcome to two new members, Giesler Kowlowski and Vince Aitken. Apologies were received from Tan McKenzie, Joe Turner, Edna Garrad and Morrie Berry.
  
-Another successful social month was reported. Some 40 members attended the theatre party and 15 had dinner together before going to the theatre. Our Walks Secretary reported that the commando trip along the Kommumg, led by Colin Putt, had been a success, though some had exceeded instructions in the matter of equipment and the trip had not turned out as tough as expected.+Another successful social month was reported. Some 40 members attended the theatre party and 15 had dinner together before going to the theatre. Our Walks Secretary reported that the commando trip along the Kowmumg, led by Colin Putt, had been a success, though some had exceeded instructions in the matter of equipment and the trip had not turned out as tough as expected.
  
 The swimming carnival had been marred by rain. Although there were enough present to have a race or two, some were tired, others wouldn'​t come out of their tents, and others slept. To get everyone into action at once was more than could be organised. Altogether 42 members, 10 prospectives and 15 visitors had attended walks during the month. The swimming carnival had been marred by rain. Although there were enough present to have a race or two, some were tired, others wouldn'​t come out of their tents, and others slept. To get everyone into action at once was more than could be organised. Altogether 42 members, 10 prospectives and 15 visitors had attended walks during the month.
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 - Brian G. Harvey. - Brian G. Harvey.
  
-Anzac Day, this year falling on a Wednesday, does not give us the opportunity of a long weekend to visit Splendour Rock, that lofty crag where the N.S.W. Federation of Bushwalking Clubs placed a bronze plaque to honour for all time the Bushmalkers ​- whoever they may be - who fell in World War II.+Anzac Day, this year falling on a Wednesday, does not give us the opportunity of a long weekend to visit Splendour Rock, that lofty crag where the N.S.W. Federation of Bushwalking Clubs placed a bronze plaque to honour for all time the Bushwalkers ​- whoever they may be - who fell in World War II.
  
 At the Tenth Anniversary Commemoration Service, held at sunrise on Anzac Day, 1958, I had the honour of laying the wreath. During last Anzac weekend, on the occasion of my official walk to Splendour Rock, I again performed that duty. At the Tenth Anniversary Commemoration Service, held at sunrise on Anzac Day, 1958, I had the honour of laying the wreath. During last Anzac weekend, on the occasion of my official walk to Splendour Rock, I again performed that duty.
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 As it will be impracticable for me to visit the Rock this year, I feel it mould be very appropriate to remind the Old Hands, and to acquaint the New Hands, of the honour due to those unsung heroes of the Club who have no perpetuating memorial to their services for the meritorious tasks during the war - Maurie Berry, Doreen Harris, Winifred ("​Dunkie"​) Duncombe and Joan Savage and, I think, Grace Jolly - who composed the bulk of the Services Committee of the Federation. Forgive me if I have overlooked anyone, through lack of knowledge by absence. As it will be impracticable for me to visit the Rock this year, I feel it mould be very appropriate to remind the Old Hands, and to acquaint the New Hands, of the honour due to those unsung heroes of the Club who have no perpetuating memorial to their services for the meritorious tasks during the war - Maurie Berry, Doreen Harris, Winifred ("​Dunkie"​) Duncombe and Joan Savage and, I think, Grace Jolly - who composed the bulk of the Services Committee of the Federation. Forgive me if I have overlooked anyone, through lack of knowledge by absence.
  
-May I explain that the Services Committee was formed from the Federated Clubs to post mental and physical "​comforts"​ to the many members of the Clubs serving with the Armed Forces in the more distant parts of Australia and trainihg ​and combat zones throughout the world - in the Navy, Army and Air Force. The girls were there too - in the AWAS, WAAFS and the Land Amy.+May I explain that the Services Committee was formed from the Federated Clubs to post mental and physical "​comforts"​ to the many members of the Clubs serving with the Armed Forces in the more distant parts of Australia and training ​and combat zones throughout the world - in the Navy, Army and Air Force. The girls were there too - in the AWAS, WAAFS and the Land Amy.
  
 Funds were raised by various resorts - barbecues, raffles, anyhow. Members picked peas and dug potatoes at farms near Liverpool - and donated their wages to the fund. This backbreaking work was on a production basis - and not easy. Funds were raised by various resorts - barbecues, raffles, anyhow. Members picked peas and dug potatoes at farms near Liverpool - and donated their wages to the fund. This backbreaking work was on a production basis - and not easy.
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 From "John 0' London"​ September 22nd, 1960. From "John 0' London"​ September 22nd, 1960.
  
-"​Tibbie Reed for many years editor of the B.O.P. (boy's own paper) was the tall handsome athletic son of Sir Chas. Reed, a well known M.P." Tibbie wrote his fir st sketch for the B.O.P. in '79! which leads me to+"​Tibbie Reed for many years editor of the B.O.P. (boy's own paper) was the tall handsome athletic son of Sir Chas. Reed, a well known M.P." Tibbie wrote his first sketch for the B.O.P. in '79! which leads me to
  
 Other times - other Walkers. Other times - other Walkers.
  
-In the sumer months Reed regularly walked to Cambridge if he was playing in an all day cricket match on the Saturday - the 55 miles walk from London was then a regular hike for many students, __who thought nothing of it__. Reed's time was 16 hours dead, and he would arrive in Cambridge for breakfast on Saturday. Then came 8 hours of cricket starting at 11 a.m. followed in the evening by a "​literary tea party" which went on until the early hours of Sunday morning. On Sunday, he would go to church and meet friends for lunch before walking back to London in time to start his B.O.P. duties on Monday morn. His' stazina ​was a by-word even in an age when athletic feats were __commonplace__"​.+In the summer ​months Reed regularly walked to Cambridge if he was playing in an all day cricket match on the Saturday - the 55 miles walk from London was then a regular hike for many students, __who thought nothing of it__. Reed's time was 16 hours dead, and he would arrive in Cambridge for breakfast on Saturday. Then came 8 hours of cricket starting at 11 a.m. followed in the evening by a "​literary tea party" which went on until the early hours of Sunday morning. On Sunday, he would go to church and meet friends for lunch before walking back to London in time to start his B.O.P. duties on Monday morn. His stamina ​was a by-word even in an age when athletic feats were __commonplace__"​.
  
-Concentrate on this last word, and then ponder on toddy'​s super picked limelight T.V. posing actors - groomed ​fcr Olympia! What a posterior propulsion for the many sleep addicts of the S.B.W.+Concentrate on this last word, and then ponder on toddy'​s super picked limelight T.V. posing actors - groomed ​for Olympia! What a posterior propulsion for the many sleep addicts of the S.B.W.
  
-I have a book all about another great (civilian) walker of a century ago - George Borrow. (The Romany addict). He strolled from bottom to top of Wales. He would stop and talk to any man, woman, child, ​ar animile. His entire swag - a small satchel and an umbrella - yes, I said UMBRELLA.+I have a book all about another great (civilian) walker of a century ago - George Borrow. (The Romany addict). He strolled from bottom to top of Wales. He would stop and talk to any man, woman, child, ​or animile. His entire swag - a small satchel and an umbrella - yes, I said UMBRELLA.
  
 With this outfit he ignored the weather no matter how soaked - his night time pub always had a log fire. With this outfit he ignored the weather no matter how soaked - his night time pub always had a log fire.
  
-30 miles per day was quite normal, and he would plug on in the dark in strange uninhabited roads. No torch! Even with the gamp he could turn on 6 m.p.h. and not in the 600 pages does he mention foot trouble. The bootmalmrs ​of a century ago must have been artists.+30 miles per day was quite normal, and he would plug on in the dark in strange uninhabited roads. No torch! Even with the gamp he could turn on 6 m.p.h. and not in the 600 pages does he mention foot trouble. The bootmakers ​of a century ago must have been artists.
  
 He found Wales a singularly contented though poverty ridden place. One farm hand he talked to was a married man on 7/- per week! He found Wales a singularly contented though poverty ridden place. One farm hand he talked to was a married man on 7/- per week!
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 There were, however, some notable absences - Edna Garrad, Dorothy Hasluck, the Gilroys, the Crokers, Marion Ellis - to name a few. Some had legitimate excuses but no doubt the weather discouraged others. A storm on Saturday afternoon forced a few to hasten their leisurely erecting of tents. There was an awful moment soon after the beginning of the campfire when a few more drops would have caused most people to gather up their belongings and flee to their tents. But the rain held off until some hour in the early morning when, if anyone was caught in it, it served him (or her or them) right. Not only did the rain hold off but the air was warm and still and seemed to me the pleasantest atmospheric conditions for the Reunion for many a long day. There were, however, some notable absences - Edna Garrad, Dorothy Hasluck, the Gilroys, the Crokers, Marion Ellis - to name a few. Some had legitimate excuses but no doubt the weather discouraged others. A storm on Saturday afternoon forced a few to hasten their leisurely erecting of tents. There was an awful moment soon after the beginning of the campfire when a few more drops would have caused most people to gather up their belongings and flee to their tents. But the rain held off until some hour in the early morning when, if anyone was caught in it, it served him (or her or them) right. Not only did the rain hold off but the air was warm and still and seemed to me the pleasantest atmospheric conditions for the Reunion for many a long day.
  
-We must hand it to tbe organisers - we loafers - they do a mighty job. Sometimes when I feel a little critical I suddenly break out into a lather of shame. When you consider all the fetching and carrying which goes on behind your back - but it has to be done on someone else's back!+We must hand it to the organisers - we loafers - they do a mighty job. Sometimes when I feel a little critical I suddenly break out into a lather of shame. When you consider all the fetching and carrying which goes on behind your back - but it has to be done on someone else's back!
  
 This year everything seemed to go right. The Colo Shire had improved the road and provided a parking space at the end. I am not going to invite a spate of letters to the Editor by expressing an opinion on the desirability of this use of the Shire'​s funds. The river was clear but very low so that the kids could play in the water with absolute safety, and they did. This year everything seemed to go right. The Colo Shire had improved the road and provided a parking space at the end. I am not going to invite a spate of letters to the Editor by expressing an opinion on the desirability of this use of the Shire'​s funds. The river was clear but very low so that the kids could play in the water with absolute safety, and they did.
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 Sketches were topical, typical and sometimes epileptical. The young children were organised by Pam Baker into a presentation of "​Clementine"​ and I hope that we shall see more efforts by the children. Some older children (Nobles plus friend) put on a very creditable sketch based on Little Red Riding Hood. Bravo, let's have some more. Sketches were topical, typical and sometimes epileptical. The young children were organised by Pam Baker into a presentation of "​Clementine"​ and I hope that we shall see more efforts by the children. Some older children (Nobles plus friend) put on a very creditable sketch based on Little Red Riding Hood. Bravo, let's have some more.
  
-Robert Duncan of Camden (or is it now of Boulder?) was the butt of several sketches - allying as he did a provocative personality with an almost immediate departure far America. (God bless America.) We were very grateful for some of the lines in these sketches though the execution faltered at times. But if you have had a script shoved under your nose for the first time two minutes before you go on stage and you have lost the place, or never found it in the first place, and the torch won't work, it is difficult to know what the auther ​intended.+Robert Duncan of Camden (or is it now of Boulder?) was the butt of several sketches - allying as he did a provocative personality with an almost immediate departure far America. (God bless America.) We were very grateful for some of the lines in these sketches though the execution faltered at times. But if you have had a script shoved under your nose for the first time two minutes before you go on stage and you have lost the place, or never found it in the first place, and the torch won't work, it is difficult to know what the author ​intended.
  
 The children loved Ray Bean's flea but I hope it will be some years before the boys so sincerely leer "Have some madeira, m'​dear"​ as did Jim Brown. Old stagers like Malcolm McGregor, Geof Wagg, Dot English and Edna Stretton were all in good form. Poor Brian Harvey was muttering "I am passé, I am passé"​. Lor lumme, I think not, Brian. You show no sign of being like an old soldier and fading away. The children loved Ray Bean's flea but I hope it will be some years before the boys so sincerely leer "Have some madeira, m'​dear"​ as did Jim Brown. Old stagers like Malcolm McGregor, Geof Wagg, Dot English and Edna Stretton were all in good form. Poor Brian Harvey was muttering "I am passé, I am passé"​. Lor lumme, I think not, Brian. You show no sign of being like an old soldier and fading away.
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 Sunday is the relaxing day for the Reunion. The worst of the work for the common labourers is over, the feverish quiverings of the hypersensitive artists have dissipated and, without shining examples all around, the drones may drone away without twinges of conscience. It is so pleasant wafting from group to group. Sunday is the relaxing day for the Reunion. The worst of the work for the common labourers is over, the feverish quiverings of the hypersensitive artists have dissipated and, without shining examples all around, the drones may drone away without twinges of conscience. It is so pleasant wafting from group to group.
  
-But even on Sunday we had damper making to keep us interested. And when the Organiser wins first prize we may yet see Mr. Tallentire winning fir at prize in an Opera House lottery. Along the path I saw Alex Colley going campwards with his damper tucked underneath his arm and lookng ​a little apologetic (the damper looked mildly edible). Alex is one of those cottage-industry,​ do-it-yourself,​ Ruskin sort of people but I don't think he was going to stop the baker calling.+But even on Sunday we had damper making to keep us interested. And when the Organiser wins first prize we may yet see Mr. Tallentire winning fir at prize in an Opera House lottery. Along the path I saw Alex Colley going campwards with his damper tucked underneath his arm and looking ​a little apologetic (the damper looked mildly edible). Alex is one of those cottage-industry,​ do-it-yourself,​ Ruskin sort of people but I don't think he was going to stop the baker calling.
  
 I liked this Reunion the most ever. I have been trying to work out why. I think it was because it had all the essentials of a good Reunion but more variety than usual - even the rain didn't dampen us but only kept  us on our toes. I liked this Reunion the most ever. I have been trying to work out why. I think it was because it had all the essentials of a good Reunion but more variety than usual - even the rain didn't dampen us but only kept  us on our toes.
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-Our recorder reports that there were 190 preent ​at the Reunion, 59 of whom were children.+Our recorder reports that there were 190 present ​at the Reunion, 59 of whom were children.
  
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 and nowhere more effectively than in Bushwalkers'​ thoughts about the Public'​s opinion of them. This old favourite crops up in one form or another at General Meetings and, I believe, was recently aired again. and nowhere more effectively than in Bushwalkers'​ thoughts about the Public'​s opinion of them. This old favourite crops up in one form or another at General Meetings and, I believe, was recently aired again.
  
-It has never been clear just why so many bushwalkers worry about what the public thinks about them. Speaking from a statistical basis, the public doesn'​t. Only some 40% of the public, if asked in a T.V. quiz "What is a Bushwalker"?​ would get their station sedan, washing machine, or what have you out of it. But worse still for our collective ego, even of that 40%, 90% would never recognise a bushwalker on seeing one. About half of them would fail to even register the fact that we are Different. 45%, more observant, would say inwardly, "Bags on their backs, hikers!"​ and some of these would then proceed to a mental image of us sauntering along a tar-sealed road, Wally-and-the-Major style. The remaining 5% of the 40% fail to see the packs bu see the bare knees and functional clothing and say to themselves "​Sanitary Carters"​! One or two of these may even notice that there are girls present... "​Gorblimey,​ FEMALE Sanitary Carters!"​+It has never been clear just why so many bushwalkers worry about what the public thinks about them. Speaking from a statistical basis, the public doesn'​t. Only some 40% of the public, if asked in a T.V. quiz "What is a Bushwalker"?​ would get their station sedan, washing machine, or what have you out of it. But worse still for our collective ego, even of that 40%, 90% would never recognise a bushwalker on seeing one. About half of them would fail to even register the fact that we are Different. 45%, more observant, would say inwardly, "Bags on their backs, hikers!"​ and some of these would then proceed to a mental image of us sauntering along a tar-sealed road, Wally-and-the-Major style. The remaining 5% of the 40% fail to see the packs but see the bare knees and functional clothing and say to themselves "​Sanitary Carters"​! One or two of these may even notice that there are girls present... "​Gorblimey,​ FEMALE Sanitary Carters!"​
  
 The 6% of the population who do recognise us for what we are, are probably sufficiently intelligent to be of little account in public affairs, and their opinion of us would matter not one iota if it were not for the fact that people distrust what they don't understand; the public is therefore always ready to distrust us. Even our name has a suspicious Teutonic construction,​ which like that of "​sauertuff"​ is nowadays often wide of the mark. The 6% of the population who do recognise us for what we are, are probably sufficiently intelligent to be of little account in public affairs, and their opinion of us would matter not one iota if it were not for the fact that people distrust what they don't understand; the public is therefore always ready to distrust us. Even our name has a suspicious Teutonic construction,​ which like that of "​sauertuff"​ is nowadays often wide of the mark.
  
-The way to arouse their suuspicion ​at once, and eventually their anger, is to appear suspicious, or rather, suspect. Incalculable harm is done to our almost unknown name, for instance, by the practice of adopting, in buses and trains, a disguise of well creased trousers, stiff collar and tie, and a recent shave. The immediate reaction is "that fellow'​s got something to hide" and Freud sees to the subsequent thoughts.+The way to arouse their suspicion ​at once, and eventually their anger, is to appear suspicious, or rather, suspect. Incalculable harm is done to our almost unknown name, for instance, by the practice of adopting, in buses and trains, a disguise of well creased trousers, stiff collar and tie, and a recent shave. The immediate reaction is "that fellow'​s got something to hide" and Freud sees to the subsequent thoughts.
  
 Carrying this method to extremes doesn'​t work either; full evening dress, with top hat, is immediately given the lie by your pack; John Citizen thinks "That bloke'​s crackers"​ and he's right. Unless these disguises give the wearer a deep personal satisfaction,​ there is no point in adopting them. Carrying this method to extremes doesn'​t work either; full evening dress, with top hat, is immediately given the lie by your pack; John Citizen thinks "That bloke'​s crackers"​ and he's right. Unless these disguises give the wearer a deep personal satisfaction,​ there is no point in adopting them.
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 The best way to give the public the idea that we are a happy, healthy, moral and patriotic group, is to act as freely and naturally as possible, short of stamping on their corns. Coat yourselves with charcoal to the eyeballs and do square dances in hobnailed boots on the platform while waiting for trains; the public will love it, and you, if you're careful not to knock them into the path of an oncoming locomotive. The best way to give the public the idea that we are a happy, healthy, moral and patriotic group, is to act as freely and naturally as possible, short of stamping on their corns. Coat yourselves with charcoal to the eyeballs and do square dances in hobnailed boots on the platform while waiting for trains; the public will love it, and you, if you're careful not to knock them into the path of an oncoming locomotive.
  
-If Bushwalkirg ​is ever to be recognised as a Good Thing by the public, it will be through some activity other than our weekend walking. It will be, alas, many many years before the public even begins to appreciate our conservation efforts, although that is no reason to let them slacken. But it is always possible that some daring and successful expedition, discovery, or reserve by bushwalkers might catch the public'​s fancy one day, and may the Lord help the Membership Secretary!+If Bushwalking ​is ever to be recognised as a Good Thing by the public, it will be through some activity other than our weekend walking. It will be, alas, many many years before the public even begins to appreciate our conservation efforts, although that is no reason to let them slacken. But it is always possible that some daring and successful expedition, discovery, or reserve by bushwalkers might catch the public'​s fancy one day, and may the Lord help the Membership Secretary!
  
 While the public think of us very little, we think of ourselves quite a lot, and __this__ is where it does behove us to watch our behaviour a little more closely. Internal Intolerance is our greatest danger, and as I sit, at the time of writing, pretty squarely on the half way fence of our threescore years and ten, I feel exceptionally well fitted to explain to Older Members that boys will be boys, and to Younger Members that Older Members will be Older Members, and to all that the only way to justify your claims to consideration is to do something for the Club. A club, fortunately,​ tends to form itself into internally compatible groups, but if a Club is to remain as such, these groups must make frequent contact, and here we get the minor annoyances of less nature groups making their presence too suddenly and physically felt# by their seniors, and of over-ripe groups## getting, by cunning and constitutional means, to force mature younger members like crated oranges, with an atmosphere of gas###. While the public think of us very little, we think of ourselves quite a lot, and __this__ is where it does behove us to watch our behaviour a little more closely. Internal Intolerance is our greatest danger, and as I sit, at the time of writing, pretty squarely on the half way fence of our threescore years and ten, I feel exceptionally well fitted to explain to Older Members that boys will be boys, and to Younger Members that Older Members will be Older Members, and to all that the only way to justify your claims to consideration is to do something for the Club. A club, fortunately,​ tends to form itself into internally compatible groups, but if a Club is to remain as such, these groups must make frequent contact, and here we get the minor annoyances of less nature groups making their presence too suddenly and physically felt# by their seniors, and of over-ripe groups## getting, by cunning and constitutional means, to force mature younger members like crated oranges, with an atmosphere of gas###.
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 |April 22-22|Blackheath - Car to Perry'​s - Blue Gum - Grand Canyon - Blackheath. Drop 2,000' to Blue Gum Forest. Comfortable camping in forest of stately gums. Mostly track walk out (steep climb to Canyon) past Syncarpia, Beauchamp Falls and the scenic Grand Canyon. Leader: John Cambon. Map: Katoomba Military.| |April 22-22|Blackheath - Car to Perry'​s - Blue Gum - Grand Canyon - Blackheath. Drop 2,000' to Blue Gum Forest. Comfortable camping in forest of stately gums. Mostly track walk out (steep climb to Canyon) past Syncarpia, Beauchamp Falls and the scenic Grand Canyon. Leader: John Cambon. Map: Katoomba Military.|
  
-TIME 1ATE CLIOED MTFLETCI:72, +=====The Time We Climbed MtFletcher.===== 
-Geof Wagg. + 
-It was the second evening of a 3-day weekend and we were camped in an enormous open-sided cave in the maze behind ​Nt. Renwick. We felt quite dheltered ​here from the day-long biting wind although great gusts and eddies still swept the cave from end to end, sending the fires frantic. +Geof Wagg. 
-The snow had stopped by the previous morning and the sleet had stopped about midday. Even the covering blanket of the clouds had been torn apart and the few remaining tatters now dreadfully harassed by the mind. Soon we altpt snagg]T, tucked into various sheltered crannies while incur mrrow strip of slcy great stars blazed ​firelesay, and yet it seemed sleepily strange the wind did not blow them out. + 
-Those last two days seemed to me then to have been empty and frustrating. Grace and Snow and I were out with some Tech. boys, proposing to go from the Vines over Renwick and the Castle then up the Clyde River and back to the Vin via Castle Point. Harried by rain showers and the bleak wind on the first day, we seemed to be doing well when we lunched sheltered by the cliffs of Tarn Mouritain. Later in the afternoon we were making our way towards the southern point of NI. Renwick with the close scrub clawing at our knees and groundsheets snapping and cracking in the mind. Before us lay an awful void of blue-black where the massif of Currockbilly merged with the deeply shadowed valley of the Clyde. As we watched, a single sunbeam driven by the wind fled like a hunted thing across the dnrk folding ridges, rested a moment on Pidgeon House then on to vanish in the depths of a distant gorge. Suddenly it seemed the cloud behind us split showing ​Ulm' a depth of turquoise sky where red- gold clouds swam like tropic fish in a transparent pool. And through this rent there poured a flood of light engulfing all of us and sweeping on to reach the Castle ​wallE which flared up in a blaze of orange like a gigantic tinder pile touched with a match. The crackling of our groundsheets was the flames.+It was the second evening of a 3-day weekend and we were camped in an enormous open-sided cave in the maze behind ​Mt. Renwick. We felt quite sheltered ​here from the day-long biting wind although great gusts and eddies still swept the cave from end to end, sending the fires frantic. 
 + 
 +The snow had stopped by the previous morning and the sleet had stopped about midday. Even the covering blanket of the clouds had been torn apart and the few remaining tatters now dreadfully harassed by the wind. Soon we slept snuggly, tucked into various sheltered crannies while in our narrow ​strip of sky great stars blazed ​firelessly, and yet it seemed sleepily strange the wind did not blow them out. 
 + 
 +Those last two days seemed to me then to have been empty and frustrating. Grace and Snow and I were out with some Tech. boys, proposing to go from the Vines over Renwick and the Castle then up the Clyde River and back to the Vines via Castle Point. Harried by rain showers and the bleak wind on the first day, we seemed to be doing well when we lunched sheltered by the cliffs of Tarn Mountain. Later in the afternoon we were making our way towards the southern point of Mt. Renwick with the close scrub clawing at our knees and groundsheets snapping and cracking in the mind. Before us lay an awful void of blue-black where the massif of Currockbilly merged with the deeply shadowed valley of the Clyde. As we watched, a single sunbeam driven by the wind fled like a hunted thing across the dark folding ridges, rested a moment on Pidgeon House then on to vanish in the depths of a distant gorge. Suddenly it seemed the cloud behind us split showing ​thru' a depth of turquoise sky where red-gold clouds swam like tropic fish in a transparent pool. And through this rent there poured a flood of light engulfing all of us and sweeping on to reach the Castle ​walls which flared up in a blaze of orange like a gigantic tinder pile touched with a match. The crackling of our groundsheets was the flames. 
 "​It'​s fining up!" we said and happily made our way back to find a camp spot. The snow commenced a few minutes later. Luckily Michael had found us a very cosy cave where we camped and cooked on a roasting fire beyond which we saw blackness and snow flakes. The mind whined like a dog on the doorstep. "​It'​s fining up!" we said and happily made our way back to find a camp spot. The snow commenced a few minutes later. Luckily Michael had found us a very cosy cave where we camped and cooked on a roasting fire beyond which we saw blackness and snow flakes. The mind whined like a dog on the doorstep.
-The next morning we moved out rather late, into a world of black and White. The sky was white as the'snow and the trees, black as the rocks. We were cold in our shorts and sandshoes. In the open valley the faintest breath of wind seemed to saw with teeth of ice into Qur flesh, so we hunched our shoulders and tucked in our hands and tried to cross the mnl-slly ​floor of the valley without breaking thruthe ice crust into the water beneath. + 
-THE +The next morning we moved out rather late, into a world of black and white. The sky was white as the snow and the trees, black as the rocks. We were cold in our shorts and sandshoes. In the open valley the faintest breath of wind seemed to saw with teeth of ice into our flesh, so we hunched our shoulders and tucked in our hands and tried to cross the marshy ​floor of the valley without breaking thru' ​the ice crust into the water beneath. 
-To reach the Castle we left the valley and climbing among the intervening pinnacles, crossed ​dawn on to the ridge that becomes the tail. Here the sleeting ​mind came with vicious fury; howling along the upper battlements of the mountain and driving into our faces as we sidled towards the climbing chimney. Half an hour later we were still sitting in the cave below the chimney where we had taken shelter. Outside the wind-rain-sleet mixture ​still roared by.+ 
 +To reach the Castle we left the valley and climbing among the intervening pinnacles, crossed ​down on to the ridge that becomes the tail. Here the sleeting ​wind came with vicious fury; howling along the upper battlements of the mountain and driving into our faces as we sidled towards the climbing chimney. Half an hour later we were __still__ ​sitting in the cave below the chimney where we had taken shelter. Outside the wind-rain-sleet mixture ​__still__ ​roared by. 
 "Well are we going to climb this mountain?"​ demanded John Manning for the third time and still no one liked to tell him. "Well are we going to climb this mountain?"​ demanded John Manning for the third time and still no one liked to tell him.
-17. + 
-Whilst John and Peter were away up the mountain we built a small fire and warmed ourselves, in the resulting clouds of chold..ng saoiga. Later 601135 ​of us built another fire in the next cave which had better ventilation and as we prepared lunch on this a shout announced the return of the climbing party. Investigation showed that not only had they returrBd ​but they had actually been drying their clothes by the fire when Peter backed a little too close and set his pants alight. This was responsible for the shout. Thereafter he walked behind Grace. +Whilst John and Peter were away up the mountain we built a small fire and warmed ourselves, in the resulting clouds of choking smoke. Later some of us built another fire in the next cave which had better ventilation and as we prepared lunch on this a shout announced the return of the climbing party. Investigation showed that not only had they returned ​but they had actually been drying their clothes by the fire when Peter backed a little too close and set his pants alight. This was responsible for the shout. Thereafter he walked behind Grace. 
-Lunch eaten in the ventilated cave only led to hagglint, ​and indecision. Forthright statements by Manning such as + 
-"That sleet has stopped there'​s no reason why we can't go on and finish the trip:" were not parried but buried ​urrier ​an avalanche of :-+Lunch eaten in the ventilated cave only led to haggling ​and indecision. Forthright statements by Manning such as:- 
 + 
 +"That sleet has stopped there'​s no reason why we can't go on and finish the trip!" were not parried but buried ​under an avalanche of :- 
 "​It'​s too cold!" "​It'​s too cold!"
-" Snow in the chimneys - " - Frozen rope - + 
-" No caves on the Clyde!"​ +"Snow in the chimneys - !" 
-Yes, that was it. No caves on the Clyde. Comfort against ​Cornaest'Eloquence ​vertus ​Reluctance. Reduced to these, of ccurse ​the result was foreigone ​and that 'how we came to be in ouc cave in the maze behind ​Et. Renwick. +" - Frozen rope - !" 
-This was the difference however; that evening we bad seen Mt. Fletcher. Seen it for the first time as a mountain I mean, rather than a hummock, amoilkst\others on The horizon. Cold it looked from here when across the massive precipice of the western face the freezing wind growlecl ​slashing at the straggling clouds that strayed like unkempt sheep under the cold sky. ',​file ​hadn't said anything at the time except "​Wow!",​ but later on that evening by the fire the image was conjured up again and this time Manning 's exhortation wasn't necessary. + 
-    ....   +"No caves on the Clyde!"​ 
-This morning is cold too; not the biting cold of the wind bit a pervading chill that you feel all over. The dark silver of the morning ​61t7 still holds a pale gleam where an unspent star lingers. The stillness holds us down like a weight. But stillness is a brittle ​tiling ​and splintered with a &lout: we have escaped, flitting grey shapes padding the firmness of damp send. Ferns brush our legs like feathers but hold as well such snags as fire sharpened logs. + 
-First find your mountain. ​IL-earning ​plunges into a choked gully rind we follow wading waist deep in ferns and meshed sticks. The head is a cul-de-sac where we climb out on to rock and up a convenient log -to the top of the first dome. Here we see a maze; no well p?,​z,​med ​ridges ​no order. A tangle; rocks thrown down anyhow. Humps and hummocks, domes, gaps, slots andchasms and the top of Fletcher just visible half a mile away. We didn't think of this then we allowed ourselves 3 hours altogether. +Yes, that was it. No caves on the Clyde. Comfort against ​Conquest. Eloquence ​versus ​Reluctance. Reduced to these, of course ​the result was foregone ​and that'how we came to be in our cave in the maze behind ​Mt. Renwick. 
-We skip and jump from dane to hummock and frequently back from hummock to dome. We plough the fern and leaf mould and swing on tangled ​brarnhes ​in the gullies. At every -view we are nearer ​bat never arriving. + 
-"​Look",​ says Manning at last if we go right down there and skirt that mess altogether we should be able to get into the slat just this side of Fletcher"​. +This was the difference however; that evening we had seen Mt. Fletcher. Seen it for the first time as a mountain I mean, rather than a hummock ​amongst ​others on the horizon. Cold it looked from here when across the massive precipice of the western face the freezing wind growled, ​slashing at the straggling clouds that strayed like unkempt sheep under the cold sky. We hadn't said anything at the time except "​Wow!",​ but later on that evening by the fire the image was conjured up again and this time Manning'​s exhortation wasn't necessary. 
-18. + 
-"​Let'​s have a till" we say. +....... 
-nce more we slip and swing and jump but by the time we are furrowing the trough of this gully with our backs to ti -B open window of its steep descending side we know at last we can touch our mountain. Touch it.' ​You must rub your nose on it", the climbers say, "​before you know it will go". + 
-"Yair, this is where Doug Doughnut climbed '​er"​ says Famous Higgins as we stand at -Um head of ctsur gully on the shcrt causeway of rock that butts against the mountain like a stool against the wall of a haise. Our eyes follow up the fine cut line of tiB crack running at a slight angle up the snooth ​faceMy estimation of Dough Daughmt ​'s climbing ability soars. ​Nab mac e than 60 feet I suppose but one straight pitch, fingers and toes most of the way, and never more than a knee and an elbow. +This morning is cold too; not the biting cold of the wind bit a pervading chill that you feel all over. The dark silver of the morning ​sky still holds a pale gleam where an unspent star lingers. The stillness holds us down like a weight. But stillness is a brittle ​thing and splintered with a shout: we have escaped, flitting grey shapes padding the firmness of damp sand. Ferns brush our legs like feathers but hold as well such snags as fire sharpened logs. 
-1 tamp  + 
-"She looks O.K.". says Pete. I say nothing. +First __find__ ​your mountain. ​Manning ​plunges into a choked gully and we follow wading waist deep in ferns and meshed sticks. The head is a cul-de-sac where we climb out on to rock and up a convenient log to the top of the first dome. Here we see a maze; no well planned ​ridges ​no order. A tangle; rocks thrown down anyhow. Humps and hummocks, domes, gaps, slots and chasms and the top of Fletcher just visible half a mile away. We didn't think of this when we allowed ourselves 3 hours altogether. 
-"It seems a bit wet", says Michael, and we all eye the-, big wet patch halfway up and estimate ​far ourselves the sliminess of the spreading green stain. + 
-"I think we'll do better around on the eastern face" ​Says /fanning. "It seemed more broken ​-when I was looking at it rester,​day ​afternoon"​. Yesterday afternoon no other of us had even known -which mountain was Fletcher; still, that was Manning all aver+We skip and jump from dome to hummock and frequently back from hummock to dome. We plough the fern and leaf mould and swing on tangled ​branches ​in the gullies. At every view we are nearer ​but never arriving. 
-When it comes to the point Famous Higgins wants to try the convertional ​route + 
-and some stay with him while John, Pete, Mike, Snow and myself rope down the overhang into the gully opposite the way we came. We haven'​t a spare rope to leave fixed here so 'we use the other group'​s climbing rope and Ezzhort ​them not to forget to leave it fixed for us should they go before we return, - F.H's candid reply to this pursues us as we scuff up through the leaf mould to reach the foot of the cliff and follow it round a corner out of sight and eventually earshot. +"​Look",​ says Manning at last, "if we go right down there and skirt that mess altogether we should be able to get into the slot just this side of Fletcher"​. 
-It's so late now that we know we haven'​t time to try in more than one spot so + 
-we intend to choose a likely one and give it our best. Passing two promising places we take the third -vhich ​seems broken into at least three pitches and lays back all the way or so it appears. It's only a moment then before we 're all up on the pedestal of rock at the base of the first pitch and =tangling ​the rope. +"​Let'​s have a try!" we say. 
-"​Right! Who's going up?" "Mike is:+ 
-"No, I don't .. " before he completes ​hiS formal complaint he has the rope araind ​him. As it is a big step up to start, John boosts him, then his'feet disappear from our sight and he'​s ​wo-rld_ng ​his way up the steep sloping slab, finding holds in a centre crack. Minutes fade by with no sound but the muffled movements above our heads. The rope slides silently over the rock. The rope stops a movement, jerks spasmodically,​ then Mike's voice. +Once more we slip and swing and jump but by the time we are furrowing the trough of this gully with our backs to the open window of its steep descending side we know at last we can touch our mountain. Touch it! "You must rub your nose on it", the climbers say, "​before you know it will go". 
-19. + 
-, +"Yair, this is where Doug Doughnut climbed '​er"​ says Famous Higgins as we stand at the head of this gully on the short causeway of rock that butts against the mountain like a stool against the wall of a house. Our eyes follow up the fine cut line of the crack running at a slight angle up the smooth ​faceMy estimation of Doug Doughnut's climbing ability soars. ​Not more than 60 feet I suppose but one straight pitch, fingers and toes most of the way, and never more than a knee and an elbow. 
-"Right The rope'​s ​c_Le ar  + 
-John and I go up in quick succession. John brings the other'​s ​up while I belay Mike up the next stage, a shortwide open chimney with a steep, treacherous slope of loose stuff above. Shoes that grip like limpets on rock will glide off this smooth dry grass as if greased and the loose sandy, shale slope moves under you like quicksand. The danger is as Putt puts it. +"​Hmm"​. 
-"You feel so safe just because it isn't vertical."​ Safe that is, until you start to slide. ​Mils treads gently until he 's safe on rock again then with the rope fast we come up quickly to be all togetha. ​beneath what looks like the last pitch. We're well back into the mountain now. No sanlight ​reaches us and we begin to feel cold. This section looks ab,​out ​fifty feet and an obvious route lies right before us. A deep narrow chimney curving out of sight above, undercut at the bottom too, for about eight feet.+ 
 +"She looks O.K.". says Pete. 
 + 
 +I say nothing. 
 + 
 +"It seems a bit wet", says Michael, and we all eye the big wet patch halfway up and estimate ​for ourselves the sliminess of the spreading green stain. 
 + 
 +"I think we'll do better around on the eastern face" ​says Manning. "It seemed more broken when I was looking at it yesterday ​afternoon"​. Yesterday afternoon no other of us had even known which mountain was Fletcher; still, that was Manning all over. 
 + 
 +When it comes to the point Famous Higgins wants to try the conventional ​route and some stay with him while John, Pete, Mike, Snow and myself rope down the overhang into the gully opposite the way we came. We haven'​t a spare rope to leave fixed here so we use the other group'​s climbing rope and exhort ​them not to forget to leave it fixed for us should they go before we returnF.H's candid reply to this pursues us as we scuff up through the leaf mould to reach the foot of the cliff and follow it round a corner out of sight and eventually earshot. 
 + 
 +It's so late now that we know we haven'​t time to try in more than one spot so we intend to choose a likely one and give it our best. Passing two promising places we take the third which seems broken into at least three pitches and lays back all the way or so it appears. It's only a moment then before we're all up on the pedestal of rock at the base of the first pitch and untangling ​the rope. 
 + 
 +"​Right! Who's going up?" 
 + 
 +"Mike is!" 
 + 
 +"No, I don't .. " before he completes ​his formal complaint he has the rope around ​him. As it is a big step up to start, John boosts him, then his feet disappear from our sight and he'​s ​working ​his way up the steep sloping slab, finding holds in a centre crack. Minutes fade by with no sound but the muffled movements above our heads. The rope slides silently over the rock. The rope stops a movement, jerks spasmodically,​ then Mike's voice. 
 + 
 +"Righto! ​The rope'​s ​clear."​ 
 + 
 +John and I go up in quick succession. John brings the others ​up while I belay Mike up the next stage, a shortwide open chimney with a steep, treacherous slope of loose stuff above. Shoes that grip like limpets on rock will glide off this smooth dry grass as if greased and the loose sandy, shale slope moves under you like quicksand. The danger is as Putt puts it. 
 + 
 +"You feel so safe just because it isn't vertical."​ Safe that is, until you start to slide. ​Mike treads gently until he's safe on rock again then with the rope fast we come up quickly to be all together ​beneath what looks like the last pitch. We're well back into the mountain now. No sunlight ​reaches us and we begin to feel cold. This section looks about fifty feet and an obvious route lies right before us. A deep narrow chimney curving out of sight above, undercut at the bottom too, for about eight feet. 
 "That makes it hard to get into." "That makes it hard to get into."
-"am. Let's see if there'​s ​ankbhing ​else"​. + 
-Alternatives are scarce. To our right a vertil ​right angle inside corner with a projecting wedge at the top and on our left the ledge blends back into the cliff face. +"Hmm -. Let's see if there'​s ​anything ​else". 
-"No chance"​. "​Alright",​ says + 
-A large tree, its trunk blackened by -oast fires, grows in the very mouth of the chimney trying to look as though it were responsible for splitting this mighty rock andMike embraces this to get him through the undercut section. I see him scuffling and scraping on the otherside ​of the tree. Dust and flakes of chnrred ​bark fall in a continuous ​shover ​as he moves. After a few moments he braces himself and swings his camera behind him out of the way. +Alternatives are scarce. To our right a vertical ​right angle inside corner with a projecting wedge at the top and on our left the ledge blends back into the cliff face. 
-"​Don'​t know I bring this camera, I never use it :+ 
-Now comes the delicate ​manouvre ​of disengaging from the tree and into the chimney. A final shower ​a f char coal and it s achieved. +"No chance"​. 
-"Nice going Nike". + 
-nEhnim. Looks wider further in and I can see daylight above. Think I'll try it there. Again he disappears and his movements are indicated by the paying out of the rope. +"​Alright",​ says Mike. 
-"​G ​lahrrr ​!VI+ 
 +A large tree, its trunk blackened by past fires, grows in the very mouth of the chimney trying to look as though it were responsible for splitting this mighty rock and Mike embraces this to get him through the undercut section. I see him scuffling and scraping on the other side of the tree. Dust and flakes of charred ​bark fall in a continuous ​shower ​as he moves. After a few moments he braces himself and swings his camera behind him out of the way. 
 + 
 +"​Don'​t know why I bring this camera, I never use it!!" 
 + 
 +Now comes the delicate ​manoeuvre ​of disengaging from the tree and into the chimney. A final shower ​of charcoal ​and it's achieved. 
 + 
 +"Nice going Mike". 
 + 
 +"Hmmm. Looks wider further in and I can see daylight above. Think I'll try it there". Again he disappears and his movements are indicated by the paying out of the rope. 
 + 
 +"G'ahrrr!!" 
 "​What'​s the matter Mike?" "​What'​s the matter Mike?"
-"Ah/ therets ​some rubbish on the rock up here. Looks like tar or something"​. "Oh well, stick to it  " + 
-20. +"Ah, there'​s ​some rubbish on the rock up here. Looks like tar or something"​. 
-"No option I'm afraid. And one by one we run the gauntlet of the charcoal and the tar. + 
-When I finally slip into sunlight trough the grimy lips of this crevice and see the others I realise even more fully what we have in common. We 're filthy! Smeared black and sticky with this stuff, smudged with charcoal too and this on top of a normal ​tau days bushvalking ​grime in weather then it 's too cold to vash. But we feel clean.+"Oh well, stick to it  " 
 + 
 +"No option I'm afraid." ​And one by one we run the gauntlet of the charcoal and the tar. 
 + 
 +When I finally slip into sunlight trough the grimy lips of this crevice and see the others I realise even more fully what we have in common. We're filthy! Smeared black and sticky with this stuff, smudged with charcoal too and this on top of a normal ​two days bushwalking ​grime in weather then it's too cold to wash. But we __feel__ ​clean. 
 Clean as the taste of the fresh morning sunlight in our mouths. Clean as the clear, blue, rainwashed distance rushing away from us in every direction. Clean as the feel of the crisp rock under our feet. This cleanness is deep and real. Clean as the taste of the fresh morning sunlight in our mouths. Clean as the clear, blue, rainwashed distance rushing away from us in every direction. Clean as the feel of the crisp rock under our feet. This cleanness is deep and real.
-We leapt and skipped like young animals, on the spreading terraces of the summit. This was living. This was us. Then we watched far a little while quietly, then turned and vent dawn. 
-APRIL 284.22:22 Blackheath - car to Megalong - Black Jerry'​s - Galong Creek - Carlon'​s Head - Kat ooMba.'​ 
-Easy going down to Cc's - pleasant river scenery at foot of Black Jerry'​s. Rock hop up,Galong, scramble up the seven cascades of Bax Canyon (pink granite rubbers recommended). Steep climb to Carlon'​s Head, steady nerves needed for the chains up the rock face, then easy walking to Katoomba with extensive views from Narrow Neck. 
-APRIL 29-30 
-Leader: Pam Baker. Maps: Myles Dunphy'​s Gang erang Map 
-Katoomba Military 
-Jenolan Military. 
-Kanangra Walls - MUrdering Gully - Hanangra Creek - Thurat Spires - Big Misty Kanangra Walls. 
-Private Transport to the Walls. 
-We quote Bill GiLLam'​s description (May 1950)  
-"The Spires are no more than 50-100 feet vide at most and are connected by a knife edge a mere yard wide. They fall on on side to Kanangra Deep, and on the other to the similar Danae '​Brook. The vision of the immense deeps, purple in afternoon shadow, cut by innumerable waterfalls with the glorious yellow of the Walls dominating ail, is a wonderful sight."​ 
-This is a rugged day-trip, including a good deal of scree scrambling and some rope work. 
-See Leader Bob Jones far further details. 
-ON THE IVIAY - AUGUST PROGRAMIE. 
-*ki 576-7 
-" 6-7 
-George Gray will lead a trip to Bungonia Gorge - Private Transport. 
-Reg Meakin s will lead a walk well known for its scenic attractions. Train to St. Anthony'​s (near Robertson) - Carrington Falls - the Barren Grounds - Saddle Back - Kiama. 
-SEE THE NEW WALES PR CGRAUTE FCR FUR.THER DETAILS. 
  
 +We leapt and skipped like young animals, on the spreading terraces of the summit. This was living. This was us. Then we watched far a little while quietly, then turned and went dawn.
 +
 +----
 +
 +|April 28-29-30|Blackheath - car to Megalong - Black Jerry'​s - Galong Creek - Carlon'​s Head - Katoomba. Easy going down to Cox's - pleasant river scenery at foot of Black Jerry'​s. Rock hop up Galong, scramble up the seven cascades of Box Canyon (pink granite, rubbers recommended). Steep climb to Carlon'​s Head, steady nerves needed for the chains up the rock face, then easy walking to Katoomba with extensive views from Narrow Neck. Leader: Pam Baker. Maps: Myles Dunphy'​s Gangerang Map, Katoomba Military, Jenolan Military.|
 +|April 29-30|Kanangra Walls - Murdering Gully - Kanangra Creek - Thurat Spires - Big Misty - Kanangra Walls. Private Transport to the Walls. We quote Bill Gillam'​s description (May 1950)... "The Spires are no more than 50-100 feet wide at most and are connected by a knife edge a mere yard wide. They fall on on side to Kanangra Deep, and on the other to the similar Danae Brook. The vision of the immense deeps, purple in afternoon shadow, cut by innumerable waterfalls with the glorious yellow of the Walls dominating ail, is a wonderful sight."​ This is a rugged day-trip, including a good deal of scree scrambling and some rope work. See Leader Bob Jones for further details.|
 +
 +----
 +
 +=====On The May-August Programme.=====
 +
 +|May 5-6-7|George Gray will lead a trip to Bungonia Gorge - Private Transport.|
 +|May 6-7|Reg Meakins will lead a walk well known for its scenic attractions. Train to St. Anthony'​s (near Robertson) - Carrington Falls - the Barren Grounds - Saddle Back - Kiama.|
 +
 +See the new walks programme for further details.
196104.txt · Last modified: 2016/02/16 03:54 by tyreless