Mount Lofty - part 2

We drove to Waterfall gully, at the bottom of mount lofty. Marian ran on Waterfall gully road, while I trekked to the top of Mount Lofty. I wanted to make this a weighted trek, so I grabbed a gear backpack from the car. Initially, the pack felt very very light. However, compared to last time's summit, it took me considerably longer (1hr 15 minutes) to get to the summit, and I felt very very slow. Of course, I proceeded to chid myself for being so fat and so unfit and continued to do so throughout my very slow progress to the summit. When I got there, somebody was painting Adelaide. They had an entire setup, complete with night light table and other artsy bits. Adelaide looked very pretty (did I mention it was 11pm at night?!).  I'm the last one allowed to say that other people are crazy for painting in the middle of the night on some god forsaken hill top, but some people are just crazy!

I got back to the car eventually, and Marian helped me with the backpack. He commented on its weight (it no longer felt light to me either...). Turns out, it was about 15kg. At least it seems that I have very strong biceps!

Time to mt lofty summit: 1 hr 15 mins
Total time: 2 hrs 20 mins
Conditions: 36degrees, dry
Pack weight: 15 kg
Wildlife:
Kangaroos: 0
Foxes: 1
Butterflies: A DOZEN!

Another day, another trek

This time around, it was Faja del Pelay. This was the first trek I selected for our hiking holiday, thinking that it would be good to ease into it rather than ATTAAAAACK the hills at full blast. I was right (I hope) but Marian thought the hike was boring. Behold the boring!!

It started off pretty schweet with some very delicious steaks blocking our path. Deliciously cute that is:

The sunlight refracting through the canopy made for some pretty shots, of which I took many many (but not as many as my geese - more on this later). If I could have a house right in the middle of this clearing (a tent would do), my life would be perfect!

This would be the view from my window/tent flap:

And she would drop in for coffee each morning:

The trek goes up pretty steeply for about an hour and a half or 600m. No pictures here as we were all busy donating our lungs to charity (man, i need to train...).

And then we reached a viewpoint (mirador in spanish), and were busy dropping our jaws for a while.

The view of the valley and the opposite range (we would go on it the next day btw) was stupendous!!

After this the trek proceeds on a flat path all the way to the beginning of the valley.

 Nothing special here and you might say it's kinda boring, if not for the fantastically awesome HAVE YOU SEEN THIS! view on the other side.

To be honest, I did not realize the potential of the place until we met the raspberries (boy what a distorted hand I have). These were nommed thoroughly (especially since by now I think I had met Humpty and Dumpty and had adopted them, ergo, I was slower, if that was even possible). I sampled every bush I found and I can confirm all were delicious.

Of course, the valley was still boring. NOT:

We knew it was still summer:

The place must look fantastic in the spring though ...

Some of us stopped to boulder, while others were carrying Humpty and Dumpty and could not be bothered.

There were some clouds at some point, just to add a bit of adrenaline, but otherwise we were strolling along the path:

In anticipation of the next day, we peered over some steepnessness - oh boy little did we know:

Our destination is the valley's end, aaall the way down there: 

CHECK.OUT.THE.SKY. No edits were done on this (or any I think) picture.

The waterfall was a bit meh, but still the water was very very cold, and it was very nice just to hang around.

The trek back to the carpark goes through the valley floor. It is paved (PAVED!) in some parts, so completely accessible to everybody (once they have hiked the 200m or so uphill that is)

The little waterfalls down the river are much nicer than the big one.

All in all, a beautiful 8 hour return trek that allows one to see a very beautiful valley without feeling that they will die. Boring? Hell no.

What's in a name?

... that which we call a rose ...

Talking to my distributed systems class about how naming is an important topic in distributed systems, this phrase kept ringing in my head (i was, I must admit, under the influence of at least two? three? coffees and a couple (four?) panadols).  And it has finally occurred to me just how important names & labels are in my life. And just how immensely powerful a shift from a negative name or label to a positive one can be. And how inanimate objects come to life once named.

Turns out, I name everything.
- school computer: Annapurna; unassuming but deadly mwahahaha
- new laptop: Matterhorn; small and pointy
- ipad: Mont Blanc
- kindle: Hippo
- phone: Gecko
- camera: Tommy
- car: Snow White
- big red suitcase: Boris the Second (after dodo's Boris from switzerland)
- old green crash mat: The Green Lantern
- new black diamond mondo crash mat: Stalin (it's big and it's so goddamn red)
- climbing rope: Sky
- shoes: The Mad Hornets
- myself: Old. Fat. Weak.

Not only do I name everything, but if something remains unnamed, then it also remains unused. Now the only question is ...

.... Can you tell I had a very lonely childhood without many friends?

Grand Canyon

Here's a very very overdue post about hiking. In December 2011, I hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon and back. All by myself. I do not consider it an extraordinary hiking accomplishment, except for the scary oh so scary trek in the middle of the night.

Because you see, the trek is advertised as hard to difficult and on all the panels and all the brochures you are advised NOT to attempt trekking to the bottom of the canyon and back in the same day. I figured I could do this as it was winter (and not the peak of summer, as the brochures seemed to suggest), and also I could turn back anytime I wanted and thought I was not going to make my cut-off time (<- these sound like famous last words, right?!)

Then, because I was supposed to catch a bus at 12, I woke up at 4 am and started. Turns out, 4 am is THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, a time during which

A) it might snow
B) it might be dark
C) it might be freezing
D) all of the above.


And so I froze, and it was pitch dark and it was scary and it snowed for about half my trek. And I had an amazingly scary feeling of being all alone in the quiet and the darkness and the cold.

And then I got to the bottom of it. And the sunrise came.

And I walked a bit further and saw this! The Colorado river!

And the sun got warmer, but it still could not warm up the old bones:

After this, I had to turn around and walk back. Turns out, you walk 3km down to the bottom of it, and then 3 km straight back up. The trek itself is pretty tame, but some people chose to take the mules!

This was the slippery slippery snow (there's eternity on the left of the path) - I was so glad I had my walking poles!

One last look before ending it:

And a nice, freezing sunset on the drive back to Phoenix. Here's to getting out of the house more!

The Great Ocean Walk - Part III

[See part I and part II.]

And last, since there only were three days! This day was the hardest of them all because both the russian mathematician and I split F.'s backpack and carried most of the weight, as his knees were giving in. This day was also the prettiest of them all because we reached the 12 Apostles. But before that, we did some serious trekking with some fantastic views.

And F. could walk better sans the weight, but both the russian mathematician and I were slowing down. We were also taking lots and lots of pictures, and as such we spent a lot of time by ourselves. Bonding, if you must. Turns out, he is very very likeable, although still an idiot. Aren't we all...

This day was the day we could finally see the coast properly.

We stopped frequently and as usual there was some stupid joke or other. Until we found the leeches that is.

Somehow, both me and the russian mathematician were leech magnets. And the leeches were very very determined. Oh, how I hate them! And oh, how difficult they are to take off one's sock, pants, or skin, when they are properly biting. Aargh, most gross! Here's one on his leg:

I butchered this one in particular. (Bloody shots coming!)

I crushed it to death. Ha ha. And then the evidence was all over my shoes.

I had 9 leech bites and the russian mathematician had 7. It was not good. We soon reached the campgrounds, finished our trek and headed into the showers, where the leech bites continued to bleed. Motherfuckers.

This minor inconvenience was soon forgotten because we drove to our final destination, the 12 apostles. We did not trek as initially planned because the russian mathematician had to take a bus and we were running out of time. Without further ado, here they are:

And here we are, like peas in a fucking pod.

The russian mathematician went to Melbourne, and F. and I explored a bit more of the area. After that, we had a fantastic steak (picture not included) and drove for ten hours to Adelaide. This time, with only minor incidents (I puked my sandwich) and no casualties (sandwich excluded).

And as I explore more and more, i realize what a truly beautiful country australia is, and just how lucky I am. Life is good.