Went Wandering in Queensland
- Thread starter Zichar
- Start date
Zichar
Senior Member
Thanks foxtwo!
>>
Here's a placeholder shot, a terrible one I'm afraid
When we parted, over a cloudy skies and a hot warm breakfast
The works and a flat white
Him back to the city for work, and ourselves off to the north
With the sunrise buzz starting to wear off, visible in our eyes
Re-supplied and ready to roll out, I resigned ourselves to what must surely be a wasted day of driving
With weather less co-operating and nothing worth beating a sidetrack to
Punched in the address of our accommodation at Rainbow Beach into our GPS
And entertained ourselves watching local trees whiz by
Until of course the road started to meander and narrow
With the drizzle pounding on the rooftops steadily, an unending spritz
And we ended up on an unsealed road, names unfamiliar
The little car icon hovering in limbo, away from the bright neon purple line
Let's try another path shall we, my face brightened up
Masking my apprehension at driving unknown, placing my trust in that tiny machine
Sitting atop my dashboard, lights suddenly garish
Calmly telling me, in a cool crisp British accent, to turn left along Pomona-Kin-Kin Road
And so we blundered our way through, the fear somehow didn't yet permeate through our thick skulls
At every mishap, where trails turn cold, logging tracks that seem overgrown, or the GPS beeped its disapproval
we simply turned and took the other path
Many opportunities abound; pine trees at least 4 storeys high lined the roads
Lined the tracks narrow and endless into the horizon
Low lying fog that carpeted the ground, the light rain creating a spray, a mist
Clearings with solitary trees, their gnarled fingers reaching heavenwards
But I clenched my teeth together and motioned to carry on
Don't jinx anything, my superstitious mind whispered
Hairy yes, with some roads almost impossible to make a three point turn
A multi-point turn it became
With only two other 4WDs coming in from the opposite direction
Remembering their jovial faces and friendly waves, ruddy faces from a midday drink perhaps
The yellow ochre mud laden track swished its mark on our champagne X-Trail
Artistic strokes from a Chinese calligraphy master mixed with that of a precocious toddler armed with a toothbrush
And the rocks, oh the rocks
Tiny gremlins, serrated teeth, serrated claws, armed with serrated forks and knives
Waiting greedily to rip our tires into shreds
Holes, trenches, dugouts pockmarked the road
Groceries going through the wash and spin cycle
Bottles of Bundy clinked a gentle toast together
Surf and turf merged inseparable
I thought, hoped and then prayed
Of emergencies, contingencies, plans
And a frantic recollection, of reading somewhere, somewhere
Cooloola Way was impassable in wet weather
But then a drizzle for hours is not a torrential downpour innit?
Grabbing my Kindle to go through my stored documents and guide book
Or did I see it online? Swiping the lock screen unlock
To find out that we were in an area of no cellular coverage
Vodafone be damned, why didn't I pick Telstra over airport convenience?
Then the car juddered to an abrupt halt
Throwing us both slightly forward in our seats
Floor it I mentally yelled, but meekly squeaked out for my wife
Panic registering in her demeanor as she whispered
I already am
The tableau, the both of us, frozen in gaze, eyes locked at each other, jaws open slightly
Fear percolating until that moment threaten to brew over, the car frozen in mud
Potato chips floating in mid air, okay maybe I exaggerate
>>
Here's a placeholder shot, a terrible one I'm afraid
When we parted, over a cloudy skies and a hot warm breakfast
The works and a flat white
Him back to the city for work, and ourselves off to the north
With the sunrise buzz starting to wear off, visible in our eyes
Re-supplied and ready to roll out, I resigned ourselves to what must surely be a wasted day of driving
With weather less co-operating and nothing worth beating a sidetrack to
Punched in the address of our accommodation at Rainbow Beach into our GPS
And entertained ourselves watching local trees whiz by
Until of course the road started to meander and narrow
With the drizzle pounding on the rooftops steadily, an unending spritz
And we ended up on an unsealed road, names unfamiliar
The little car icon hovering in limbo, away from the bright neon purple line
Let's try another path shall we, my face brightened up
Masking my apprehension at driving unknown, placing my trust in that tiny machine
Sitting atop my dashboard, lights suddenly garish
Calmly telling me, in a cool crisp British accent, to turn left along Pomona-Kin-Kin Road
And so we blundered our way through, the fear somehow didn't yet permeate through our thick skulls
At every mishap, where trails turn cold, logging tracks that seem overgrown, or the GPS beeped its disapproval
we simply turned and took the other path
Many opportunities abound; pine trees at least 4 storeys high lined the roads
Lined the tracks narrow and endless into the horizon
Low lying fog that carpeted the ground, the light rain creating a spray, a mist
Clearings with solitary trees, their gnarled fingers reaching heavenwards
But I clenched my teeth together and motioned to carry on
Don't jinx anything, my superstitious mind whispered
Hairy yes, with some roads almost impossible to make a three point turn
A multi-point turn it became
With only two other 4WDs coming in from the opposite direction
Remembering their jovial faces and friendly waves, ruddy faces from a midday drink perhaps
The yellow ochre mud laden track swished its mark on our champagne X-Trail
Artistic strokes from a Chinese calligraphy master mixed with that of a precocious toddler armed with a toothbrush
And the rocks, oh the rocks
Tiny gremlins, serrated teeth, serrated claws, armed with serrated forks and knives
Waiting greedily to rip our tires into shreds
Holes, trenches, dugouts pockmarked the road
Groceries going through the wash and spin cycle
Bottles of Bundy clinked a gentle toast together
Surf and turf merged inseparable
I thought, hoped and then prayed
Of emergencies, contingencies, plans
And a frantic recollection, of reading somewhere, somewhere
Cooloola Way was impassable in wet weather
But then a drizzle for hours is not a torrential downpour innit?
Grabbing my Kindle to go through my stored documents and guide book
Or did I see it online? Swiping the lock screen unlock
To find out that we were in an area of no cellular coverage
Vodafone be damned, why didn't I pick Telstra over airport convenience?
Then the car juddered to an abrupt halt
Throwing us both slightly forward in our seats
Floor it I mentally yelled, but meekly squeaked out for my wife
Panic registering in her demeanor as she whispered
I already am
The tableau, the both of us, frozen in gaze, eyes locked at each other, jaws open slightly
Fear percolating until that moment threaten to brew over, the car frozen in mud
Potato chips floating in mid air, okay maybe I exaggerate
Last edited:
Zichar
Senior Member
Naturally I thought of you Thomas
When spotting mangrove trees, their pneumatophores like tiny sausages
Peeking out from the mud
At the tip of Tin Can Bay, brown water churned in by the poor weather and squall
It rained, with winds so strong the gulls were kept still, hovering in place, flying their darndest against
A laughable sight but less so when it was my turn to venture out to the shore, hood up, t-shirt wrapped around the camera
Perhaps the gulls' turn to laugh
And the caravans parked at the open end of the lot, surprised they kept their way
The fella having a yellow mass of what looked like scrambled eggs tapped on the glass with his fork to wave at me
Perhaps his turn to laugh
When spotting mangrove trees, their pneumatophores like tiny sausages
Peeking out from the mud
At the tip of Tin Can Bay, brown water churned in by the poor weather and squall
It rained, with winds so strong the gulls were kept still, hovering in place, flying their darndest against
A laughable sight but less so when it was my turn to venture out to the shore, hood up, t-shirt wrapped around the camera
Perhaps the gulls' turn to laugh
And the caravans parked at the open end of the lot, surprised they kept their way
The fella having a yellow mass of what looked like scrambled eggs tapped on the glass with his fork to wave at me
Perhaps his turn to laugh
This one is absolutely gorgeous! great work!
Zichar
Senior Member
Thanks for the likes, stuck!
>>
We cruised around aimlessly, going up to the tip of the ferry service to Fraser's Island and return
Encountering so many other more macho and manly 4WDs
Felt like a pretender, half-glad for its new dirt-crusted clothes, like the badge of courage
Chatted with the tourist information service, two candid women with banter quick and dirty like two salty sailormen
They proceeded to tell a motley crew of teens(!), nineteen tops, European, French, Brits, Irish
That rainy weather, is fantabulous for driving offroad
On the beach, with its drizzle-soaked compact sand
And then a sudden chill ran in through the doors and seeped in through my jacket
I shuddered
Observed along the roadside, a slice of the forest
At full-tilt, you can almost imagine the wedge of focus
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Zichar
Senior Member
Was trying to get this done real fast
What usually happens on the road is that my wife will drive and I'll yell out if anything catches my eye
But, speaking as a driver myself, it's probably annoying to suddenly stop while cruising at high speeds
Most time we just gotta turn around, which compounds the problem
Walked further down for this spot because it looked creepier
Stood at the edge of the rusted barbed wire fence - an abandoned property, ranch perhaps?
Had the works:
Dilapidated cart resting on a solitary wheel, check
Rutted track now filled with rotting leaves, check
Weather-worn wooden gate/arch, the metal sign no longer legible, hanging off on one nail, check
Gave a certain 'charm' to the forest off trail ... think I hightailed out of that spot real quick after!
7-shot panorama, full tilt
What usually happens on the road is that my wife will drive and I'll yell out if anything catches my eye
But, speaking as a driver myself, it's probably annoying to suddenly stop while cruising at high speeds
Most time we just gotta turn around, which compounds the problem
Walked further down for this spot because it looked creepier
Stood at the edge of the rusted barbed wire fence - an abandoned property, ranch perhaps?
Had the works:
Dilapidated cart resting on a solitary wheel, check
Rutted track now filled with rotting leaves, check
Weather-worn wooden gate/arch, the metal sign no longer legible, hanging off on one nail, check
Gave a certain 'charm' to the forest off trail ... think I hightailed out of that spot real quick after!
7-shot panorama, full tilt
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Zichar
Senior Member
Absolutely glad we plumped up for the pricey accommodation
Because we had to spend a lot of time within...
The huge kitchen a boon and somewhat disconcerting since I'm used to my own tiny one
Lost myself on the desert island, running trails of juice leading to the cooker
After our ordeal, some wiseguy scribbled with his finger
Clean Me Pls
On our mud-caked read window
So we took heed of said advice and hey, since it's a popular 4WD destination
It shouldn't have come as a surprise to us that there was a self-service
4WD wash station, high ceilings like a hangar
Was pretty great fun, wielding the high powered water cannon
Blasting dirt and mud into oblivion
Or so my wife thought, she blasting, me feeding dollars into the machine
A dollar a minute, which ran by really fast
Thankfully we decided not to do the undercarriage spray wash
The open mouth of the cash slot looking suspiciously crestfallen
Because we had to spend a lot of time within...
The huge kitchen a boon and somewhat disconcerting since I'm used to my own tiny one
Lost myself on the desert island, running trails of juice leading to the cooker
After our ordeal, some wiseguy scribbled with his finger
Clean Me Pls
On our mud-caked read window
So we took heed of said advice and hey, since it's a popular 4WD destination
It shouldn't have come as a surprise to us that there was a self-service
4WD wash station, high ceilings like a hangar
Was pretty great fun, wielding the high powered water cannon
Blasting dirt and mud into oblivion
Or so my wife thought, she blasting, me feeding dollars into the machine
A dollar a minute, which ran by really fast
Thankfully we decided not to do the undercarriage spray wash
The open mouth of the cash slot looking suspiciously crestfallen
Last edited:
Zichar
Senior Member
Thanks for being such a faithful supporter foxtwo 
>>
Until we discovered, barely 10 minutes on the road
That we could go no more than 80km/h
The rear wheels would wobble
And the car drift out, almost slipping and sliding
A whip tail snake racing across the hot asphalt
Was embarrassingly tenuous a drive
When every other car would high beam us
On no-overtaking zones
Probably wondering what old geezer's behind the wheel
Until they passed us by, the look of anger and annoyance
Sometimes giving way to bewilderment
As myself or my wife would give a cheesy grin and wave of apology
On our many stops, I did my best impression, of a used car buyer
The tyres receiving some quick, hard, swift kicks
Deep thumps belied their normal state
Crossed our minds that perhaps some water may have got flushed
Right into the exhaust pipe?
An 8-shot pano, was described by another forumer as the Brothers Grimm's forest
Found that quaintly apt
Wish we could post larger
>>
Until we discovered, barely 10 minutes on the road
That we could go no more than 80km/h
The rear wheels would wobble
And the car drift out, almost slipping and sliding
A whip tail snake racing across the hot asphalt
Was embarrassingly tenuous a drive
When every other car would high beam us
On no-overtaking zones
Probably wondering what old geezer's behind the wheel
Until they passed us by, the look of anger and annoyance
Sometimes giving way to bewilderment
As myself or my wife would give a cheesy grin and wave of apology
On our many stops, I did my best impression, of a used car buyer
The tyres receiving some quick, hard, swift kicks
Deep thumps belied their normal state
Crossed our minds that perhaps some water may have got flushed
Right into the exhaust pipe?
An 8-shot pano, was described by another forumer as the Brothers Grimm's forest
Found that quaintly apt
Wish we could post larger
Last edited:
Thanks for being such a faithful supporter foxtwo
>>
An 8-shot pano, was described by another forumer as the Brothers Grimm's forest
Found that quaintly apt
Wish we could post larger
I like your style mah. :thumbsup:
Maybe you could have asked your wife to be red riding hood in the woods.
Zichar
Senior Member
Haha I don't think so ... on the contrary we had a tiff because of this
She remembers too, peering over my shoulder when I was processing the night before
We had sped past two similar opportunities and I made up my mind to stop for the next one
Unfortunately, I wasn't the driver
And as we barreled through at top speed, my neck craned behind, I asked to turn back
She grumbled; making a three point turn on a semi-deserted road sounds easy but it's not
When every other car is traveling fast and the SUV has a turning radius of a blue whale
Some terse words were exchanged, and I hauled myself into the driver's seat instead
Nice shots, love the seascapes especially
Thanks! Means a lot coming from you. If you ever head down that way I think you'd do even better.
I have the email convo with that local photog too, lots of coastal opportunities
Lovely stuff on Anthony Tancredi Photography
>>
Trundling along, we were late
And without cellular coverage
Recep would be closed by then
But bless their hearts they didn't
I muttered car troubles
When receiving the keys
Holiday homes
Built a wee bit too close to each other
In the quiet of the night
Even neighborly flushes can be heard
As I unloaded our groceries
The right rear wheel noticeably deflated
An so-now-you-show-your-face-here moment
The next morning I ambled over
To give a call to the rental agency
When the woman directed her husband
To come and help us take a look first
My heart leapt in joy
I reckon he was in his seventies
And made pretty short work of changing tyres
My poms poms simply hanging beside
Limply as my arms were
A short bugger of a screw between the grooves
The offender, a slow leak
And he gave me a wink and told me to
Fix the spare up, and I dusted my palms together
And realised it's a lot of tyre to hoist
But stay for awhile, he said
Best enjoy the bit of sun
Whose presence so sorely missed
On the precious strip of beach across
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Zichar
Senior Member
Was extremely and perversely happy when I saw this
Remarked loudly to no one in particular, Hey it's like Changi Beach!
The missus had her eyes only showing whites...
Remarked loudly to no one in particular, Hey it's like Changi Beach!
The missus had her eyes only showing whites...
Zichar
Senior Member
We got the tire fixed
Patched I think
On a tubeless I think
Shrug
We got the tire fixed
Out on the junction before the long road in
The RACQ was where the BnB fella said it was
Though our curiosity was dampened
The lady coming out of the office to herd us out
Worker's comp won't cover you guys if you get hurt
So we milled around just outside, our luggage
Tiptoeing the thin line between mud and concrete driveway
Once ready, we handed over some bills and drove away
Confidence restored
Speed restored
And went about our way, exploring vineyards
One populated by a man so old, I wonder if his kids should let him continue
His hand, shaking as he tried to pour me a sample
Then, forgetting where he put his bottles
Not being able to read the label, with or without his glasses
The final straw being unable to read the denomination of notes
That I handed over to him as payment for some strong port
The other, a very learned woman, with a penchant for Italian cooking
And her husband, a penchant for all things wood; counter top, staircase, furniture
Came off with a bottle of something or other
More for the pleasant encounter (and a rather unique strong scent of lychees)
Spent the mid-morning wandering the streets of Childers
The old pharmacy slightly chintzy
The infamous BnB fire-in-a-hostel now-turned-museum
A rather sad and poignant monument in the middle of town
Drove on down to our next stop, a quaint little BnB
Just outside of Eumundi, lackluster reviews
But with the town fully booked up for the Saturday craft market
We grabbed the shell and put it between our teeth
The massive discount was helpful too
Located on a sprawling valley, undulating with quiet luxury
Driveways long and dim, boughs link to hide the mansions that lay out of sight
New-ish, with units still being built, Realtor signs staked out front
The street's named after Pat Rafter's sister I learned soon after
I nodded, his long locks weighing heavily down on mine
The proprietor's wife seemed absentminded
A source for many misgivings, online detractors posted
Though I found her mild, and simply absentminded, the reasons suspiciously medical
Yet it would be impolite to probe
We spoke a long while, maybe because there wasn't anywhere to go
Reaching in that evening limbo just before dinner
She, committing a huge faux pas, asking if my wife was preggers
And kept insisting she was...
When much later, we met the late arrivals, occupants next door
The woman who was, sigh, aha, many months pregnant
We were particularly enamoured with the miniature poodle
Friendly with people as most BnB pets are wont to be
Oscar, certainly living the dogs life
Chasing rabbits and birds, frogs and toads out front
Then sitting patiently for his master to arrive
Basking in the last warmth of the setting sun
Digging and reburying, bones and scraps, saved for later
We had a short chat with the husband too
A govt psychiatrist, choosing to retired to the outskirts
We asked about the business
He told us of the occupancy
The last room arriving late
The last flight on a late night and all
So I set my equipment on the edge of the curved driveway
The full moon a damper on getting great trails
But it wasn't as cold, rather pleasant to be out and about
Until we heard rustling then a shadow zip by behind us into the trees
The size of a mousedeer? running on four legs
The wife made a quick beeline back to the property
Myself, after a few bobs of the Adam's apple
Chose to follow her soon after
Just stack the shots I told myself
Stirring a couple of hours later to get dressed
Step outside and just watch
in almost slow-motion anguish
As the ute, those dastardly latecomers(!) came rushing up the driveway
taking the corner like a drift racer
Narrowly missing my tripod by inches
And I took to the steps running
My legs giving myself a donkey's kick with every step
For being such a fool
My arms up in a supplicant's prayer
For being such a lucky fool
Patched I think
On a tubeless I think
Shrug
We got the tire fixed
Out on the junction before the long road in
The RACQ was where the BnB fella said it was
Though our curiosity was dampened
The lady coming out of the office to herd us out
Worker's comp won't cover you guys if you get hurt
So we milled around just outside, our luggage
Tiptoeing the thin line between mud and concrete driveway
Once ready, we handed over some bills and drove away
Confidence restored
Speed restored
And went about our way, exploring vineyards
One populated by a man so old, I wonder if his kids should let him continue
His hand, shaking as he tried to pour me a sample
Then, forgetting where he put his bottles
Not being able to read the label, with or without his glasses
The final straw being unable to read the denomination of notes
That I handed over to him as payment for some strong port
The other, a very learned woman, with a penchant for Italian cooking
And her husband, a penchant for all things wood; counter top, staircase, furniture
Came off with a bottle of something or other
More for the pleasant encounter (and a rather unique strong scent of lychees)
Spent the mid-morning wandering the streets of Childers
The old pharmacy slightly chintzy
The infamous BnB fire-in-a-hostel now-turned-museum
A rather sad and poignant monument in the middle of town
Drove on down to our next stop, a quaint little BnB
Just outside of Eumundi, lackluster reviews
But with the town fully booked up for the Saturday craft market
We grabbed the shell and put it between our teeth
The massive discount was helpful too
Located on a sprawling valley, undulating with quiet luxury
Driveways long and dim, boughs link to hide the mansions that lay out of sight
New-ish, with units still being built, Realtor signs staked out front
The street's named after Pat Rafter's sister I learned soon after
I nodded, his long locks weighing heavily down on mine
The proprietor's wife seemed absentminded
A source for many misgivings, online detractors posted
Though I found her mild, and simply absentminded, the reasons suspiciously medical
Yet it would be impolite to probe
We spoke a long while, maybe because there wasn't anywhere to go
Reaching in that evening limbo just before dinner
She, committing a huge faux pas, asking if my wife was preggers
And kept insisting she was...
When much later, we met the late arrivals, occupants next door
The woman who was, sigh, aha, many months pregnant
We were particularly enamoured with the miniature poodle
Friendly with people as most BnB pets are wont to be
Oscar, certainly living the dogs life
Chasing rabbits and birds, frogs and toads out front
Then sitting patiently for his master to arrive
Basking in the last warmth of the setting sun
Digging and reburying, bones and scraps, saved for later
We had a short chat with the husband too
A govt psychiatrist, choosing to retired to the outskirts
We asked about the business
He told us of the occupancy
The last room arriving late
The last flight on a late night and all
So I set my equipment on the edge of the curved driveway
The full moon a damper on getting great trails
But it wasn't as cold, rather pleasant to be out and about
Until we heard rustling then a shadow zip by behind us into the trees
The size of a mousedeer? running on four legs
The wife made a quick beeline back to the property
Myself, after a few bobs of the Adam's apple
Chose to follow her soon after
Just stack the shots I told myself
Stirring a couple of hours later to get dressed
Step outside and just watch
in almost slow-motion anguish
As the ute, those dastardly latecomers(!) came rushing up the driveway
taking the corner like a drift racer
Narrowly missing my tripod by inches
And I took to the steps running
My legs giving myself a donkey's kick with every step
For being such a fool
My arms up in a supplicant's prayer
For being such a lucky fool
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Zichar
Senior Member
We got up nice and early, skipping on breakfast
Concentrated only on the bed (sic)
Got our fill at the Eumundi Markets
Dogs and a flat white for myself
A wonderful cure for the morning chill
Touted to be Australia’s largest craft and art market
I think I just gave up after 3 hours of walking
My legs and knees screaming for a bench, a seat, anything
Some really cool stuff, some way too large to bring back
Taken while the missus was trying on homemade skirts
As the ubiquitous male twiddling thumbs while the female
Goes in for dressing room duty
What’s a fella gonna do, if not with the camera in his hands?
Waited for this man to walk in the zone of focus, full tilt
Got lucky when the crowd just parted for him, hey
Concentrated only on the bed (sic)
Got our fill at the Eumundi Markets
Dogs and a flat white for myself
A wonderful cure for the morning chill
Touted to be Australia’s largest craft and art market
I think I just gave up after 3 hours of walking
My legs and knees screaming for a bench, a seat, anything
Some really cool stuff, some way too large to bring back
Taken while the missus was trying on homemade skirts
As the ubiquitous male twiddling thumbs while the female
Goes in for dressing room duty
What’s a fella gonna do, if not with the camera in his hands?
Waited for this man to walk in the zone of focus, full tilt
Got lucky when the crowd just parted for him, hey
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Zichar
Senior Member
Heh thanks bon!
>>
The GPS set us on our way
But, and it’s the best part of traveling, serendipity happened
On country back roads, winding and shaded
Until we crested, emerged, into bright hot sunlight
Of the eyelid scrunching variety
And stopped at the brown-signed lookout
Panoramic view of the valley below notwithstanding
The elderly couple sitting at the gazebo slash pavilion nearby
Was a dear find and encounter
The past few gloomy days kept them indoors
Locals who spent their free time wandering the area
Tut-tut aimed at our GPS’ suggestion
Not the best way to experience the Blackall range
They proceeded to walk us to their car
And flip the thick-bound street map directory
Fingers tracing lines on paper
Dropping names and places to go, routes to take
Even recommended walks in the parks we were up to
If they weren’t heading for lunch elsewhere we’d ask
If they’d like to come along for the hike
Not on our list but worth taking a look she said
So we did, barely 5 minutes away from the town of Mapleton itself
A small wooden jut out look out to the falls below
Exposed to the blistering cold wind
Yet beneath the canopy of trees
The heat, the sunlight just beyond arm’s reach
Took a while to get it steady as visitors
Including a tour group riding in sidecars of Harleys
A mother-daughter who started yelling and yodelling
Arrived in set intervals
Too quick to trip the shutter
Not long enough for the vibrations to die down
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Zichar
Senior Member
The sun was past its zenith as we reached Kondalilla Falls
Nights spent poring over flickr and google images
My original plan that gave way to the craft market
Looking at the circuitous route on the information board
A flick of my wrist to confirm the time
With a rapid and unflinching assessment of our capabilities
Alas these knees are no longer made for walking
The rolls around my trunk
Carry more weight than my tripod
Perhaps in past years, when youthful zeal
Made up for lost time easily
When ‘for experienced hikers only’ made it the only option
Nothing else compares, decisive
Now the red line only spells danger, not adventure
For all the ease of going down to the base of the falls
Only ninety meters, pshaww
One must come up soon after
Past memories that surged and flood
Of unending Escher steps
Twist and milk the lactic acid from muscles
Actin and myosin soon will part
Pangs of regret that lingered
Yet counter-productive
As the burning embers of sunlight cried
Tarry no more, but get on with it lickety split
Along muddy trails, gingerly steps, the tracks not getting
The warmth and energy to dissipate away
Past days wet rain and drizzle
Though amusingly we did meet
A group of very buff young men, Caucasians four
And another Asian face
Unfortunately, smoking in a national park
A habit rather distasteful amidst nature’s wonders
Scowls lined their brows, many not as convinced
Of the leader’s plan
As they toted an already inflated
Inflatable dinghy, more a child’s toy
Than a white water rafting device
Hands gripping sawn off paddles
Taken on a slight detour off the path
Swinging down the half-finished bridge
Under renovation it said
Nights spent poring over flickr and google images
My original plan that gave way to the craft market
Looking at the circuitous route on the information board
A flick of my wrist to confirm the time
With a rapid and unflinching assessment of our capabilities
Alas these knees are no longer made for walking
The rolls around my trunk
Carry more weight than my tripod
Perhaps in past years, when youthful zeal
Made up for lost time easily
When ‘for experienced hikers only’ made it the only option
Nothing else compares, decisive
Now the red line only spells danger, not adventure
For all the ease of going down to the base of the falls
Only ninety meters, pshaww
One must come up soon after
Past memories that surged and flood
Of unending Escher steps
Twist and milk the lactic acid from muscles
Actin and myosin soon will part
Pangs of regret that lingered
Yet counter-productive
As the burning embers of sunlight cried
Tarry no more, but get on with it lickety split
Along muddy trails, gingerly steps, the tracks not getting
The warmth and energy to dissipate away
Past days wet rain and drizzle
Though amusingly we did meet
A group of very buff young men, Caucasians four
And another Asian face
Unfortunately, smoking in a national park
A habit rather distasteful amidst nature’s wonders
Scowls lined their brows, many not as convinced
Of the leader’s plan
As they toted an already inflated
Inflatable dinghy, more a child’s toy
Than a white water rafting device
Hands gripping sawn off paddles
Taken on a slight detour off the path
Swinging down the half-finished bridge
Under renovation it said
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