WRITING 101 – DAY FOUR – SERIALLY LOST

When I first read today’s subject, I immediately thought of the late great Paddy Pallin, the doyen of Australian bush walking. Paddy wrote a book called,’Never Really Lost’ and those words are still my mantra.

Back in the dreamtime when my ability to navigate by reading topographic maps was second to none, getting lost was never a possibility. Misplaced, perhaps, but lost, never, ever. In those days, a good quality magnetic compass, military of course, coupled with an ability to triangulate using landmarks and six figure grid references from the right maps meant one always got to the  destination, on time and then got back home again, whether by foot or by vehicle.

Without blowing my own trumpet, I was a bloody good navigator, even at night where I could navigate by the stars. Military trained? Too right. Was I a legend in my own lunch time? In my four wheel drive club, certainly, in my bush walking club, of course. Could I use a sextant too? Of course. Useless knowledge though as no one had one. After all, at that time I operated on land, not at sea.

Then over the years as advancing technology began to creep in I started to use basic hand held GPS . My choice was the Magellan GPS315, quite as versatile little unit as it could be vehicle mounted as well as hand held. It came out in 1999 and I was the first in our mob to get one.

As long as we carried the right topo maps and the Australian 1:250,000 Map Series Gazetteer, using the selected latitude and longitude always got us eventually to our destination. Of course you could only take the Gazetteer with you if you were in a vehicle as the blasted thing weighs nearly eight pounds. I’ve got mine right here next to me as I type and my old Magellan 315 too, just in case.

As the years rolled by, HF ( High Frequency) radio became a must have for those of us who ventured off the beaten track in our four wheel drives. Toyota Landcruisers were by far the most popular but I remained loyal to the Landcover marque and fitted my Defender 110 with a Barrett 950 SSB Transceiver (SSB stands for Single Side Band).  The beauty of the 950 is it can be used to make telephone calls through the usual telephone network, gives instant contact with the Royal Flying Doctor Service and the Police in many outback towns.

Many, many HF radio owners belong to a volunteer radio network that has the call sign VKS-737. The network has a number of base stations spread across Australia and is contactable 24/7 on a number of radio frequencies that we use according to the time of day and the base station we wish to contact. VKS-737 issues all members with a special sell call number we use to contact a base station or another vehicle.

If we decide to only use the VKS-737 network, members require no other licence. However, should you wish to step outside that network, then it is necessary to hold a licence issued by the Australian Government’s Communication and Media Authority. I hold what is known as an Outpost Licence with the call sign VZL590. When using my radio, I announce myself as Victor Zulu Lima five niner zero. Makes me feel important, even just typing it down.

Now the beauty of VKS737 for those of us who travel well off the beaten track is that we can call in at regular intervals, advise our location, receive messages from other users, get road and weather reports and provide assistance and support to others who may be in trouble for whatever reason. What’s wrong you may ask, with using the mobile phone as we call it here down under instead of the radio? Well, our mobile service is almost non existent in our distant unpopulated outback, so, unless you have a satellite phone, also dodgy, you can go absolutely off the radar without HF. In the real outback country, you can go for a couple of weeks and not see another vehicle or person.

So, its vital to go well equipped. Two spare wheels, a high lift jack, extra fuel, (my Landrover holds 140 litres  (about 38 gallons) of diesel plus another 40 litres in jerry cans) tools, spare parts, fuses, axe and shovel, food for 14 days, LPG gas bottles for the stove, fresh water, a full first aid kit, camping gear, cameras and lenses and of course, the mandatory laptop, Apple of course, make up the basic off road survival kit. Fortunately here in Australia, the carrying of a firearm is unnecessary and can be more of a hinderance than a help.

Well, my counter says 882 words and I’m not even lost yet. What does this mean? Here’s a clue to why you should stick around for the second episode:

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THINK I’LL GET ONTO VKS-737 AND CHECK OUR COORDINATES – THIS DOESN’T LOOK RIGHT.

Hoo roo for now.

WRITING 101- DAY 3-COMMIT TO A WRITING PRACTICE

A commitment of fifteen minutes a day combined with today’s prompt, ‘three most important songs in my life’. All by free writing, just emptying the mind onto the page. I thought to myself, easier said than done.

Yet, just typing the words, three most important songs in my life, gave me an immediate idea, well, three really.

Three songs, first, ‘The Campbells are Coming’, played on the bagpipes of course, then, ‘Always Look on the Bright Side of Life’, performed by Eric Idle of Monty Python fame and finally, ‘Waltzing Matilda’, Australia’s unofficial National Anthem, penned by our bush balladeer, Banjo Paterson.

Why these three you might well enquire. Well, they’re not here in prioritised order, but rather, just as they popped into my head.

I chose ‘The Campbells Are Coming’ because it’s the Clan Hymn of the Campbell’s of Argyle in Scotland. A Clan, of which I’m a proud member. Why on the bagpipes? Silly question, it’s a Scottish traditional piece and when you hear the skirl of the pipes any Campbell gets goose bumps. I’ve just had a quick trawl through my photo album and have a look at this young Campbell( me, believe it or not) wearing the Black Watch Tartan as a young subaltern in the New South Wales Scottish Regiment, the 30th Infantry Battalion, circa 1958.

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COULD BE WORSE, I COULD BE IN COLOUR!

Next comes ‘Always Look on the Bright Side of Life’, best performed by Eric Idle. Ever since I heard it performed by him on the Monty Python show years ago, it’s become my personal mantra.

Many things happen during our life time. some great, some not so great and some downright rotten. Doesn’t matter if you follow a religion, are a fatalist/realist/pessimist or optimist, when the rotten bits bob up, what to think and what to do?

I always try and look on the bright side of life, works for me, not always easy, that’s for sure, but at risk of repeating myself, it works for me.

Now selfies are all the rage in photography these days so I did a quick trawl through mine and here is one that I can look at and see the bright side because now it doesn’t hurt a bit. I really like it because it gives many people the heebie jeebies when I show it, like right now:

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DOESN’T HURT A BIT—-NOW!

Wow, just looked at the time, 5 minutes over time already. Looking on the bright side, I’m not too worried because I’m enjoying myself.

My third favourite, ‘Waltzing Matilda’ by Banjo Paterson is a genuine Aussie classic and most of us Aussies know all of the words, off by heart. It’s easy to sing alone or in company and it’s a genuine Aussie bushies yarn out to music. Legends about it abound in the bush, and no more than in Winton, a little town in Queensland near the spot, as bush lore has it, where the legend of the song was born. As as well as some great pubs you will find the Waltzing Matilda Museum in Winton with great displays and information about the Banjo and the meaning of the song.

By the way, Winton and its surrounds are also world famous for their fossil dinosaur fields. Here’s a photo of one of Winton’s pubs, complete with a fibre glass dinosaur foot garbage can. It’s just down the road from the Waltzing Matilda Museum. Visit Winton sometime, you can’t miss either of them. 

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THE TATTS IN WINTON- NOTE THE GREAT GARBAGE BIN TO THE LEFT.

So there we are, my three favourite  songs and ten minutes over time. I blame the dog for trying to eat my homework.

WRITING 101- DAY TWO- A ROOM WITH A VIEW

Suddenly, I’m wide awake to the sounds of crashing thunder and pelting rain. 5.30am according to the bedside clock. A quick look out through the blinds reveals total darkness, not even a glimmer from the street lights. I thought, oh no, not another electrical blackout for the lights and another day confined inside the house, no views, just pelting rain and a feeling of descending gloom for me.

Still half asleep, and without warning, I felt myself being transported, as if by magic, to the wonderful rounded red granite domes of Kata Tjuta National Park in the centre of Australia where it seldom rains, the sun always shines and the silence can be deafening.

Kata Tjuta, or The Olgas, as it used to be called by white Australians is the spiritual home of the Anangu people. I’ve been there many time before, experienced the mystery of its hidden valleys, changing light and cool shadows thrown by the rock walls and occasional trees.

I’m not in the least surprised by this morning’s sudden transport of my imagination to Kata Tjuta. Once there I’m not constrained by the pressures of daily existence. My mind can roam free of constraints. My imagination can run riot.

Aboriginal people call it ‘The Dreaming’.

Now, I’m nestled in my favourite space between two massive domes, looking down The Valley of the Winds. I can hear the rustle of the trees, the warble of the birds and feel the gentle rays of the Autumn sun warming my body. My body is totally relaxed and I feel as if I’m floating just above the ground. No tensions in mind or body, and I totally embrace the feeling.

Now, my thoughts gradually return, but not of accounts, obligations, responsibilities and desires. No, just soft pastel colours, pleasing sounds, gentle aromas and loving memories of people and places fill my thoughts. How lucky am I to be transported in my mind to Kata Tjuta. I give thanks to a long departed Pitjantjatjara friend who brought me to this Special Place and taught me all he could without breaking any traditional lore.

After what seems like an eternity, I’m suddenly conscious of the alarm clock. My blissful dreaming is no more.

Reality strikes, I am again in a room and yes, it does have a view, a mystical imaginary one into which I can escape should the need arise.

Facing reality is a necessity. I peer through the blinds, the rain is still tumbling down. This time I’m thankful as the rain is needed by the local farmers, for me, it settles the dust from nearby residential development, washes debris from our local river and refreshes everything.

Thank you Kata Tjuta for once again letting me realise that my city life is good. That I can relish the knowledge given me by my old Pitjantjatjara mate about the 36 giant domes and why he was unable to take me to other places within the domes as he himself could not go there.

Yes indeed, I’m looking forward to my next existential trip,knowing all the while that I’ll be back to my own room with a view.

In the meantime, you can dream of being at magical Kata Tjuta, just allow yourself to float through these four images.

Looking into Kata Tjuta
LOOKING INTO KATA TJUTA – A MAGICAL PLACE FOR DREAMING.
Looking into Kata Tjuta
GETTING CLOSER TO THE DESCENT INTO THE VALLEY.
Looking into Kata Tjuta
THE WALLS SEEM TO CLOSE IN AS IF TO KEEP ALL EVIL OUT.
My favourite 'Dreaming' spot in Kata Thuta.
NEAR MY FAVOURITE ‘DREAMING’ PLACE IN KATA TJUTA.

WRITING 101 DAY 0NE UNLOCK THE MIND

Twenty minutes from now to unlock my mind and write whatever comes into my head. What a poser to begin with. The first thing that I though about was today’s 200 klm drive to try out a new lens for my camera. A few days ago I’d seen the trees but without the camera all I could do was look. Today was different, low light, misty rain, not ideal, but, by the time I got to the spot the rain had ceased, the cloud cover was still there and all was well. 20 images later I was on my way again, images safely on the memory card. Now I’m sitting here playing with words as they enter my mind at random, still marshalling my thoughts about the new lens and the images freshly off the card and onto the screen. Shall I post one or two images  Really can’t decide. Perhaps only one.

Then there is the question of my motorcycling. At my age should I still be out on the open road mixing it with the idiots in their tin tops whose only excuse after a near miss is,’sorry mate, I didn’t see you’.  I knows from experience that as you get older you don’t bounce off the bitumen as well as you did as a youngster, so that is now a constant in my mind.

Of course, if I give up riding, what will I do to fill in the day? There’s a limit to the amount of time a man can spend cutting the grass, feeding the wild birds, playing with the camera, washing the Landrovers, playing with the cats and most importantly of all, just doing nothing. Now that brings to mind the joke about the old bloke sitting in a deck chair under a tree in the yard with a cold beer in hand. His wife asked,’What are you doing?’ He replied, ‘Nothing’. She responded ,’ You were doing that yesterday’. He simply said to he,’ I know but I didn’t finish!’

Sitting dothing only works for me in the body department. The mind just keeps bouncing from one thing to another, just like at this moment in time. What to type next, who will be interested in my choice of off road tyres for the Landrovers, should I buy a Nikkor micro lense to compliment my existing 105mm?

What’s the point of getting another one when I hardly use the one I’ve already got. It’s great to have more lenses than the other blokes in the camera club. Trouble is lenses are getting more expensive and access to funds is getting tighter as the years roll on by.

How’s the watch going, Wow, been going fifteen minutes and the counter says 447 words. Five more minutes till the checkered flag drops and the event is over.

It’s been a lot of fun. If my touch typing was up to real speed, I could double the output. What would that achieve. It would only add to the boring content for people whom have chosen to follow me on this blog. Oh well in closing, here’s a photo from this mornings shots:

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AVENUSE OF TREES AS A TEST FOR MY NEW NIKKOR 20MM F1.8 LENS

Hoo roo for now, see you all tomorrow.;

THE AUSTRALIAN WAR MEMORIAL MUSEUM, CANBERRA, ACT.

Last Thursday, the 2nd April 2015 I went with fifteen otherFriends of the Goulburn Regional Art Gallery on a tour of the Australian War Memorial Museum in Canberra, our Nations Capital. The trip was organised by the Goulburn Regional Art Gallery as it is currently presenting an exhibition titled ‘A salute – Aussie Soldier from 1915 meets Young Turk in 2015’. The Goulburn exhibition recognises the sacrifices made by all sides in the Great War of 1914-1918.

The Australian War Memorial Museum in Canberra has devoted one of its many display areas to showcase part of their collection of World War 1 relics which dovetail nicely with the exhibition at our local gallery.

As you will see from the following image, taken from the front entrance to the Memorial, a broad boulevard leads the eye, firstly, to the old Australian Parliament House and then on towards the  home of the Australian Government’s new Parliament House, adorned by the wonderful flag pole  and our national flag.

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THE BOULEVARD LEADING FROM THE AUSTRALIAN WAR MEMORIAL TO THE NEW AUSTRALIAN GOVERNMENT PARLIAMENT HOUSE.

On arrival, we were met by our appointed guide and immediately commenced our tour. Our first stop was for orientation and took place next to a bullet riddled small boat saved from the battle front for future generations by a forward thinking official civilian war correspondent. Our guide is the distinguished looking man facing our small group.

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ORIENTATION AND HOUSE RULES PRESENTED ADJACENT TO A BULLET RIDDLED SMALL BOAT.

Photography, minus flash, is welcome throughout the museum which is bursting at the seams with intriguing artefacts of the period.

Many famous WW1 battles are explained by detailed dioramas and after a couple of hours pausing from time to time for detailed information from our guide, we stopped at a diorama depicting the final hours of the conflict on the 11th November, 1918.

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A DIORAMA DEPICTING THE VILLAGE OF SEMAKH IN THE CLOSING HOURS OF WORLD WAR I ON THE 11th NOVEMBER 1918.

After a short lunch, our tour concluded with a brief explanation of the conservation process undertaken by the conservators and we then boarded our coach for the return home.

Our tour was an emotional and educational experience. The participants were unanimous in their desire to return to the Museum as there is so much of historical interest to be seen there.

The following image depicts the back view of the Museum. After all, everyone photographs the front.

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REAR VIEW, AUSTRALIAN WAR MEMORIAL MUSEUM, CANBERRA – MOST IMAGES ARE TAKEN FOR THE FRONT, I JUST DARED TO BE DIFFERENT.

Hope you enjoyed the images and the read.

Hoo roo