New Camera and New Friends

The new DSLR makes selfies harder.

After the sad death of my camera on my last outdoors adventure, I went out and bought myself my very first real exchangeable lens DSLR (Canon EOS Rebel T6i/750D for camera gearheads).

Last weekend, the camera made its first trip into the bush as I hiked the 45km long Six Foot Track over a couple of days with a group of new friends.

The Cast

I was invited along by Anna, a good friend who is also an outdoor adventurer. She had a trip planned with two Brits and a couple of New Zealanders - making us a pretty eclectic mix of ex-pats. Most of the group were new to trail names, but the girls all found themselves with one by the end.  You can see from this group photo that I'm still getting used to the camera.

Anna (Gollum), Nigel, Krissy (Necky), Kirsten (Gnomey), and Mack

The Hike

For those not into the local bushwalking scene, the Six Foot Track is a 45 km "trail" that is probably most famous for the annual Six Foot Track Marathon race. It's one of those trails that everyone does at some point, and so this was our turn. As it turns out, the Six Foot Track really ought to be called the Never Ending Dirt Road. It felt like we spent half a day hiking in the woods, and a day and a half walking along a dirt fire trail - shared with trucks, cars, and dirt bikes. I wouldn't rate it highly for the walking.

On the plus side we did end up with some good wildlife. In addition to the usual array of kangaroos, wallabies, and lorikeets, we saw two echidna, a wombat, a lyrebird, and a large goanna. Sadly, I have still not ticked koala off of my list of Australian fauna seen in the wild. Next time, I guess.

Goanna gettin' hisself some eggs

Kangaroo. Tree. Harmony.

There is also a long suspension bridge at around the midway point which made for a bit of fun.

Necky did not hate the suspension bridge.

Trail Philosophy

Every hiker has their own approach to being on trail. After doing the AT, my style now leans heavily towards "minimalist self-deprivation." I also lean towards "camp is the place you stay while you wait to walk again." This is not a common hiking philosophy. The 6' Track crew was keen to get to camp early to have lots of time there. They also had a very different meal philosophy - where I happily dine on a diet of cliff bars and peanut butter wraps for a few days, our meal plan for this weekend included:

• fresh wraps with lettuce, tomato, cucumber, avocado, cheese, and deli meats for lunches; 
• mushroom risotto, banana custard, and a bit of port for dinner; 
• and coffee, tea, eggs, bacon, and toast for breakfast.

All of that was made with fresh ingredients, from scratch. Mack is a killer trail cook. Mack also made me carry a lot of food. I have mixed feelings about Mack. (But then, I've made a conscious decision to carry rocks for nothing in the past, so I suppose I won't hold this grudge.)

Trail cook extraordinaire.
Also an all around delightful guy.

Besides the gourmet food, it was rather nice to have some real time hanging out at camp. I even managed to redeem myself as a fire builder after the fiasco of my last attempt in Australia. I didn't even have to resort to accelerants.

Nigel takes a moment out from wombat spotting
to look very British on some logs.

Most of the highlights of the trip involved a lot of conversation, laughter and inside jokes. Unfortunately, those are difficult to convey here. Here's a picture of Necky trying to explain to Gollum what a meerkat is, for a flavour of the sort of thing:

If only the Italian word for meerkat was "meerkat",
this would have been much easier.

All in all, the hike was a great time. The trail itself was forgettable, but as is often the case in these things, the people made all the difference. I guess that's a good general life lesson: visit beautiful places, but most importantly, bring beautiful people.

Gnomey proves that even walking on a dirt road
can be fun with the right companions

Happy Trails!

(More photos taken with my shiny new toy here)

Old Camera and Old Friends

This post is a bit delayed, since the trip took place shortly before I had to pack up my life and move it around the world again. Now that I'm settled in, I have a few minutes to recap it.

The trip

Some of you will recall that around a year ago I had some friends visit me on the AT and take me to NYC. Well those same friends are also fans of the camping life, so while I was in Canada for the summer we decided to squeeze a four day canoe trip on Lake Opeongo in Algonquin Park into our schedules. (My schedule was easily squeezed - the others have jobs.)

The plan was to canoe 10-12kms out to a campsite on an island, set up there, camp/paddle and eat for a few days before paddling back to the cars. A little like creating our own version of Upper Goose Pond in Massachusetts.

The best part was that only half of us were paddling to the campsite - the rest were taking an outfitter's ferry. Such luxuries meant that we could bring a lot more gear and food, and have a bit more of a glamping experience. Which we did. In spades.

Day 1 - Getting to camp

Maple paddles like a champ.

Maple was new to backcountry canoeing, so we headed off to learn a little about shoulder strength. It was a fun, challenging paddle, including a moment when we discovered that we'd set off without a map of the lake, so had to rely on my memory for navigation.

I'm not really great at navigation with a compass and a map in hand, let alone having both of those things only in my brain. Fortunately for us, my memory worked really well when assisted (read, supplanted) by the Google maps I'd downloaded to my phone, so we still found our way to the campsite. On the way we were harassed by a large group of seagulls who thought we were being a bit cheeky paddling so close to their chicks in the water. In our defense, we didn't even notice the chicks until we were practically on top of them. The seagulls did not seem particularly interested in our excuses.

We arrived just in time to make camp, and begin what ended up as an epic multi-course meal prepped by Mike and Nettie. There really are some times when glamping is the way to go.

Day 2 - Goodnight sweet prints.

Friday morning it was clear that the forecasted rains were not going to pass us by. Most of the crew decided this was a perfect excuse to do not much of anything at all except sit at camp, read, nap, and otherwise just be happy not to be at the office.

Yours truly is not that wise.

I decided I'd grab a canoe and go for a paddle. Bundled up in waterproof wear I headed off into the light mist on a serene lake to enjoy the quiet (not many make their way out in this weather), and generally just be glad to be on a lake again. I took a few shots, some of which even turned out reasonably nicely and was feeling pretty good about myself.

Then I happened on an island where the water was so calm and still that it made for a nearly perfect mirror so I decided to find a good spot to turn the canoe sideways and take a picture that in my head would end up something like this:

Just as I turned myself into position to take the shot, and without any warning, I found myself in the lake frantically trying to get back to the surface.  I'm still not sure exactly how it happened - I mean, in the image to the right, you can see how glassy and calm the water is. It's unlikely that a sudden swell pushed me over. 

As I floated at the surface trying to don my PFD, I thought I must have leaned out too far to take the picture. That made a lot of sense until I realised that my camera was still in my zipped pocket which meant I hadn't gotten anywhere near that point in the process. Fortunately it also meant that I hadn't dropped the camera to the bottom of the lake, so I might still salvage photos from the memory card - though the camera was clearly now an ex-camera.

I didn't have a lot of time to think about these things though, while floating alone in the middle of a large lake. My thoughts turned to getting back into the canoe somehow. It was a long two-person canoe, so self-rescuing was going to be a tall task. Instead of burning a lot of energy that way, I swam it to the shore of the island. There a couple of young guys camping took time out of updating their instagram accounts with photos of this idiot who'd tipped his canoe on the calmest day in history to help me right the canoe and set out again.

In the background of this shot of our accompanying pupper (taken by Chantelle), you can see me returning to our camp as a drowned rat.

Hershey looks at the camera, probably wondering why I'm so wet.

Day 3 - Short excursion

Day 3 was relatively uneventful. Maple and I took a canoe ride out a few kms to a trailhead, hiked in to find the small deer pond that definitely wasn't worth the mosquitoes, and then headed back for camp. The rest of the day was just chilling out at the campsite now that the rains had passed.

Day 4 - Hershey starts to make sense.

Immediately on Day 1, Colin and Chantelle's dog had developed a couple of peculiar behaviours at the campsite. The first was a desperate dislike of the area near the fire pit. Hershey hated this place so much that when playing fetch she would run across the tent-flies around the outside of it rather than through the wide open space. Even if we placed the ball in the area, and tried to entice her with food, she'd look at us like we must be insane to be standing in what was so clearly the world's most terrifying 3 m².

She would also get uncharacteristically upset if anyone left the campsite, particularly as it got darker. And particularly if that person was Maple, who happened to be the smallest of the party.

On Day 4, Mike figured out why. While using the thunder box early in the morning, he saw something like a large cat scurry up a tree. He didn't get enough of a look to identify it (lynx or bobcat?), but now we reckon that it had sprayed near the fire and that Hershey could hear it going about at night so knew that the forest held dangers of which we were unaware.

The lesson here is, when your accompanying dog tells you a place is unsafe, don't ignore the pupper.

Luckily for us, this was our departure day allowing us to escape without any more dangerous big cat encounters. Maple had decided that she was done with canoeing so Colin agreed to paddle back with me while Maple would ride with Dave and Rebecca as a third in their canoe.

Epilogue

If I summarize the trip for people, I say "we accidentally camped on a lynx's home turf, and I lost my camera in a near drowning incident. So it was a pretty awesome weekend."

And on the way home I had an email confirming that my Australian work visa had come through, so it was now official: Wallaby was going home.