All posts tagged: fitness

Bushwalking off-track in Kakadu? I needed a snorkel (Part 3)

Where am I/what am I doing? PART 1 HERE & PART 2 HERE With over 20,000 square kilometres of bush in Kakadu National Park, we chose to stay as close as possible to waterways; the thrill of simply filling my bottle from the fresh creek did not wane. When we did have to ascend to the escarpment to get past an overhang, I noticed how instantly relieved I was when we came back to the river’s edge. Imagine those first white explorers, setting out from Sydney to see what they could find… the bush both delights and terrifies me, and water is an essential comfort. As you can see, the views were stunning, and these are all unedited, with no filters, just snapped on my smartphone. But I haven’t told you about the Big River Crossing Fiasco have I? *sighs So ‘off-track walking’ means there’s no path; you have to meander/explore/experiment to get ahead. Luckily my companion had lots of energy and enthusiasm for both map-reading and ‘I’ll-just-leave-my-pack-here-and-see-if-we-can-get-through’ reconnaissance missions. You can see it’s not an …

Damn you, solo beach walker

I’m pretty lucky here in Australia: I live less than 10 minutes from a beautiful long beach, and walk and/or jog down it at least twice a week. This morning was no different, although the stormy sky was threatening rain, so there were a lot less people than usual. I power walked along– away from the break wall with its dots of fishing folk and pram pushers avoiding the sand- watching for the spouting of migrating whales, listening to great music, and enjoying feeling stronger and energetic again after surviving my week on refugee rations. I passed a few dog walkers, who have to turn back after 500 metres, to protect nesting birds.; I challenged myself to run as fast as I could for 30 seconds, and felt the push and stretch of my muscles. I smiled at the rolling waves, the odd seagull, the wind whipping my hair under my woollen hat and hoodie. It felt good to be alive, and I didn’t want to stop walking. Then I saw a lone figure further …

Freaky Friday: Why did I just mow the lawn with a backpack on?

I think my neighbours are used to me doing slightly weird things (like walking on stilts around the garden, or dancing like a mad woman with earphones in so no one else can hear the music). Yesterday was probably my peak though: I mowed all my lawns while wearing a 50-litre, approx 5kg loaded backpack. Why? Because I’m going on a 4-day hike in Tasmania, and I need to get fitter and stronger ASAP. Admittedly, the bag was only half-loaded, but I still think I deserve a 10/10 for effort, yes? Hit that Like button! We fly to Hobart on Saturday, then begin the walk on Sunday afternoon– here’s the link to the Three Capes Track if you’re curious. My beloved friend ‘G49’ turns 50 when we finish, and is a huge fan of bush hiking, so 3 valiant friends are going along with her. We have to carry everything except a tent (hurray), and sleep in fancy-ish huts at night (no hot showers or fridges, but nice mattresses and views apparently). I can do …

The return of ‘normal programming’: Me Monday catch up

Hi. What have I got for ‘Me Monday’ you wonder? I’m back from the burrow of that Permaculture Paradise, and ready to reconnect with all the Readers who were just yawning at so many photos of trees and veggie gardens. Well, H is here from Melbs, so that’s been fun- Summer has given us a last hit of humid steaminess, and we actually had to lock ourselves in the living room with the aircon for a couple of days, including dragging two single mattresses onto the floor to get some proper sleep. You could tell who didn’t have aircon around town because they looked sleep-deprived and grumpy; after 3 nights in a row of + 30C, I was praying for the cool change! When I lived in Adelaide a few years ago, we once had 10 days in a row of + 40C (104F) and my tiny garden studio had no aircon; I was ready to kill someone just for a good night’s sleep. In fact, one afternoon I snuck into my landlady’s house (I had my …

Tackling the mountain, 200 steps at a time

We love our small mountain ‘Mount Chinny’. My son and I can see her from our verandah, keeping guard over our cute country town near Byron Bay, and she figures in many local photos: Supposedly, she’s the cap of the volcano ‘Mount Warning’, which blew her off millennia ago; you can see that parent mountain in the far distance: The base of Mt Chinny is on private land though, so access for the general public is restricted. But this Saturday, all that is going to change: 500 lucky entrants are going to compete in ‘The Chinny Charge’, which was last run 16 years ago, and won by a sugar cane cutter in his bare feet! I bought son ’17’ his entry ticket in the race, then realized I could just walk up it like other sane old people, and bought myself one too. I’ve launched into a heavy training regime. Not. I drive to the steepest hill around here, which leads to a disused water tower, and walk up it, listening to loud Australian hip hop. …