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--- 197708 [2019/03/17 01:11] – [BUSHWALKER BOB - Setting up Camp] vievems
+++ 197708 [2019/03/17 01:42] – vievems
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 by Gordon Lee.
-If you wake at quarter to six whenou should have been under wcz at 4.30 a m0 the best'thing to_ddyis to rol over,and go back to sleep. Unfortunately duty demanded otherwise for another body was depending on me. So a courtesy call at least was called for. Breakfastless, trousers on, and sox the right way round, I managed to turn up at six
+If you wake at quarter to six when you should have been under way at 4.30 a.m. the best thing to do is to roll over and go back to sleep. Unfortunately duty demanded otherwise for another body was depending on me. So a courtesy call at least was called for. Breakfastless, trousers on, and sox the right way round, I managed to turn up at six
 for the slightly late appointment.
-Expecting one very irate, frustrate female, I was surprised by the
-iceless "Oh, Hello!" To make a short story longer, decision was to
-press on regardless. Even the unexpected may happen, someone might stop to tie a shoelace. All of this can be blamed on Jim Brown, possibly the most blameless of persons under normal circumstances. How, of all people, was he to know that shoving a few slides of the Widden Valley would trigger a most unusual set of circumstances which eventually led Belinda McKenzie and me into the Widden.
-Inspired by Widden on screen and finding Bob Hodgson had a walk on to that very place was sufficient to create the desire to go. Bob had asked me to take my car and Belinda. Saw her and arranged the early a m0 pick up. The rest is history. Starting minus one and a half hours can have its problems,
-Without any low flying we made the Mt. Nullo road by 9.30. To further complicate matters I followed a set of wheel tracks in error and 15 or so km later we surprised a number of weekenders and were
-re-directed, Then came the first stroke of luck. We met a friendly farmer who had been told of the presence of the SOB 0W0 trospassers and when informed that they were headed for Pomaily BO he told us that there was only one way 'they' could go and that he was on his way out there almost immediately.
-. We followed and were pleased to find the S.B.W. car park on Nullo. Here we got undressed. er redressed erl changed - the farmer was very patient. Us and packs on the 4WD we set out -in hot pursuit-. "Hot" was soMewhat. of a misnomer. It was cold enough to "freeze the ...."
-I acted as doorman gatekeeper. I opened the b.0... gates and picked up the telltale Volley prints.
-Our friendly farmer eventually walked us to a fire trailstuck with us, and even encouraged us to keep going though wo thought-it:,, "uitless. I had no desire to trip round the countryside with only
-road mar and no compass. Heavens to Betsy and Glory Be =" there they were - footprints, we'd found tem. Here our f f0 left us to our own devices.
-The trail ended abovea5o01, sorry, 150_m ),p'into some valley
-or other of breathtaking tbeaUty.. What:,LittIe'werd'been able to take
-in of the scenery was magnificent - even Jim Brown's slides hadn't
- -merdows~...mossemworwm.0.41MWIrs
+Expecting one very irate, frustrate female, I was surprised by the iceless "Oh, Hello!" To make a short story longer, decision was to press on regardless. Even the unexpected may happen, someone might stop to tie a shoelace. All of this can be blamed on Jim Brown, possibly the most blameless of persons under normal circumstances. How, of all people, was he to know that showing a few slides of the Widden Valley would trigger a most unusual set of circumstances which eventually led Belinda McKenzie and me into the Widden.
-done it justice _Here the footprints disappeared - not over the edge thank heavens, only into the scrub. That was it. Nothing to do but
-turn back. Oh well, a "Day Oh!" wouldn't hurt. (I'd imagined I'd
+Inspired by Widden on screen and finding Bob Hodgson had a walk on to that very place was sufficient to create the desire to go. Bob had asked me to take my car and Belinda. Saw her and arranged the early a.m. pick up. The rest is history. Starting minus one and a half hours can have its problems.
-heard voices). "That was no echo!" Contact.
-Joan Rigby, who -wishes to remain anorlyaoys, was sitting apart from the others doing her crossword, in the company of a rather dubious character by the name of Prank (referred to later as Big Stick) when they heard the faint"Day Oh" and realising that it wasn't the territorial warning call of the Choughs, but the mating call of the S.B.W. they relayed the information to Bob which brought the immediate response "That'll be that silly b...... Gordon".
+Without any low flying we made the Mt. Nullo road by 9.30. To further complicate matters I followed a set of wheel tracks in error and 15 or so km later we surprised a number of weekenders and were re-directed, Then came the first stroke of luck. We met a friendly farmer who had been told of the presence of the S.B.W. trespassers and when informed that they were headed for Pomany Mt. he told us that there was only one way 'they' could go and that he was on his way out there almost immediately.
+We followed and were pleased to find the S.B.W. car park on Nullo. Here we got undressed er! redressed er! changed - the farmer was very patient. Us and packs on the 4WD we set out in hot pursuit. "Hot" was somewhat of a misnomer. It was cold enough to "freeze the ...."  I acted as doorman - gatekeeper. I opened the b..... gates and picked up the telltale Volley prints.
+Our friendly farmer eventually walked us to a fire trail, stuck with us, and even encouraged us to keep going though we thought it fruitless. I had no desire to trip round the countryside with only a N.S.W road map and no compass. Heavens to Betsy and Glory Be - there they were - footprints, we'd found 'em. Here our f.f. left us to our own devices.
+The trail ended above a 500', sorry, 150 m drop into some valley or other of breathtaking beauty. What little we'd been able to take in of the scenery was magnificent - even Jim Brown's slides hadn't done it justice. Here the footprints disappeared - not over the edge thank heavens, only into the scrub. That was it. Nothing to do but
+turn back. Oh well, a "Day Oh!" wouldn't hurt. (I'd imagined I'd heard voices). "That was no echo!" Contact.
+Joan Rigby, who wishes to remain anonymous, was sitting apart from the others doing her crossword, in the company of a rather dubious character by the name of Frank (referred to later as Big Stick) when they heard the faint "Day Oh" and realising that it wasn't the territorial warning call of the Choughs, but the mating call of the S.B.W. they relayed the information to Bob which brought the immediate response "That'll be that silly b...... Gordon".
 When Bob finally led us back to "the mob" the "rhubarbery" led by Peter Miller wasn't entirely friendly, and everyone was anxious to get going through the Gap and on to the base of Pomany and our first camp.
-Widden country is (to me) some of the best walking country in whioh I have been. It is reminiscent of Katoomba dnd Newnes. Here we have the sandstone cliffs of reasonably formidable proportions, wide arable valleys and forrest country of a green-ness that makes it more acceptable to the eye than the other areas named.
-This walk had all the variety that goes with any "good" walk.
-Scrub and creek bashing, negotiating slot acces4es in cliffs both ascending and descending. Magnificent views from high places. Even Moving up the farmed valley of Widden Brook was interesting. Never have I seen so many wombat holes. One was observed by a number of the party. I didn't get close enough to be subjected to any wombat walloping.
-The only near walloping was done when Joan R. (who wishes to remain anonymous) overheard husband Frank, "Big Stick", making some sort of derogatory remark. She immediately siezed a fallen tree and chased the poor unfortunate several kilometres down the valley, finally dragging him back by thb scruff of the neck. Oh that such domestic bliss could be.
-Bushwalkers as a genus habit themselves in some of the most outlandish gear. There was Maggie 's cullottes, Spiro 's long woolly under and overs (as has already been remarked he dresses to the left - or is it right), Big Stick's fawn ballerinas, not to mention our anonymous friend's Bombay Bloomers. For the life of me I could see nothing unusual about my hat, a perfectly legitimate piece of headgear.
-An unusually high level of repartee and wit was maintained around the campfires and for which we are greatly indebted, to Charlie B. (who also wishes to remain anonymous - no wonder), for never yet on any Walk have I heard so many and varied yarns - I blush even yet.
-All in all a truly entertaining, informative, vigorous and relaxing weekend. Thanks, Bob!
-* * * * * * * * *
+Widden country is (to me) some of the best walking country in which I have been. It is reminiscent of Katoomba and Newnes. Here we have the sandstone cliffs of reasonably formidable proportions, wide arable valleys and forest country of a green-ness that makes it more acceptable to the eye than the other areas named.
+This walk had all the variety that goes with any "good" walk.  Scrub and creek bashing, negotiating slot accesses in cliffs both ascending and descending. Magnificent views from high places. Even moving up the farmed valley of Widden Brook was interesting. Never have I seen so many wombat holes. One was observed by a number of the party. I didn't get close enough to be subjected to any wombat walloping.
+The only near walloping was done when Joan R. (who wishes to remain anonymous) overheard husband Frank, "Big Stick", making some sort of derogatory remark. She immediately seized a fallen tree and chased the poor unfortunate several kilometres down the valley, finally dragging him back by the scruff of the neck. Oh that such domestic bliss could be.
+Bushwalkers as a genus habit themselves in some of the most outlandish gear. There was Maggie's cullottes, Spiro's long woolly under and overs (as has already been remarked he dresses to the left - or is it right), Big Stick's fawn ballerinas, not to mention our anonymous friend's Bombay Bloomers. For the life of me I could see nothing unusual about my hat, a perfectly legitimate piece of headgear.
+An unusually high level of repartee and wit was maintained around the campfires and for which we are greatly indebted to Charlie B. (who also wishes to remain anonymous - no wonder), for never yet on any walk have I heard so many and varied yarns - I blush even yet.
+All in all a truly entertaining, informative, vigorous and relaxing weekend. Thanks, Bob!