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-THE SYDNEY BUSHW.A.LKER
+====== The Sydney Bushwalker. ======
-Established June 1931
-XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX*XXXXXXXXIXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX-XXXXXXXXXXXXX
-A monthly bulletin of matters of interest to The Sydney Bush Walkers, Box 4476 G.P.O., Sydney, 2001.	Club meetings are held every Wednesday evening from 7.30 pm at the Wireless Institute Building, 14 Atchison Street, St. Leonards. Eftquiries concerning the Club should be referred to AnnRavn, Telephone 798,8607.
-* * * * * * * * * *
-EDITOR:	Helen Gray, 209 Malton Road, Epping, 2121.
+Established June 1931.
-Telephone 86,6263.
-BUSINESS MANAGER:	Bill Burke, 3 Coral Tree Drive, Carlingford, 2118. Telephone 871,1207.
-TYPIST:	Kath Brown.
-DUPLICATOR OPERATOR: Phil Butt.
-*-* * * * * ** * *
-JANUARY, 1962.
-Page Spowy Mountains - Dec 27 to Jan 2	by Jo van Sommers	2
-Three Months' Long Service Leave - Lindos	Evelyn Walker	5
+A monthly bulletin of matters of interest to the Sydney Bush Walkers, Box 4476, G.P.O., Sydney, 2001. Club meetings are held every Wednesday evening from 7.30 pm at the Wireless Institute Building, 14 Atchison Street, St. Leonards. Enquiries concerning the Club should be referred to Ann Ravn, Telephone 798,8607.
-Letter to the Editor	8
-Notices	9
-Advertisement - Eastwood Camping Centre	10
-The Heaphy	Bill Gamble	11
-The December General Meeting	Barry Wallace	14
-Social Notes for February	'Peter Miller	15
-Nature Notes - Uloola Track	Kath Brown	16
-Page 2	THE SYDNEY BUSHWALKER	January, 1982.
-SNOWY MOUNTAINS - DEC 27 to JAN 2,.
-by Jo van Sommers. Main Range - Jagungal Main Range.
-and.
-On Christmas Day 1981, TwO.Triple.Jay, aamittedly not a particularly reliable source, announced the prospect of a White Christmas at Perisher Valley. This gave me some pause. The following day was to be the start Of seven days walking on the Main Range and out to Jagungal and back.
+----
-Every other time I had been to the Snowy Mountains, summer or winter, there had been the comfort of a lodge to return to. Obviously I needed same advice. I knew that Bill Burke had a private party of seasoned members at his Perisher Valley Lodge at the same time as I was going to be bravely exposing myself to the elements. Besides, the food list I'd dug out ftom the last long walk I'd done (ash, it was 1957!) was fall of strange items like dehydrated vegetable stew, hanks of bacon and Ry Vita bi6auits.' Surely something good must have happened to lightweight 'food. in 'the' interval. Sure enough, Bill provided me with a terrific list which I followed faithfully to the last gram. He also regaled me with tales of previous disasters. Had T heard of the time he was rung up at Perisher from Charlotte's Pass by a Ttedraggled party who asked him to come and get them before they froze? What about the time he was marooned in Mawson's Hut for nearly three days in a Christmastime blizzard? Did the leaders know to head for a hut and stay there if the weather turned nasty? Had I remembered to pack my beanie, gloves, long trousers, heavy rainjacket and stormproof tent?
-By this time I was starting to think I was preparing for a trip to Antarctica. However, I was glad I took all those items. We drove up on boxing Day and made a cold camp at Sawpit Creek. Next day we rendezvoused at Charlotte's Pass in a freezing wind. Our party was preceded by a group of giant Atlases with incredible legs, who moved off smartly into the bleakness, slapping their goitres and ignoring the gale. I felt suddenly frail and puny. We were supposed to climb Kosci fromMerritt's Creek, but by the
-time we got to the creek the rain and mist forced us into Seaman's Hut for.
-a soggy lunch. We zipped across the fields of alpine flowers to Albino Hut,
-which is being nicely maintained by a group of volunteers and was not full
-before our party of eleven got there. However it was cold even inside, and there is no way of.cOoking unless you have brought a stove or carried firewood.
-We had a somewhat subdued cold dinner. Laurie endeared himself to everyan6
-by making us all cups of tea on his backpacked stove. Despite the rain,
-the aroma from downstairs drove several of the party to the dubious shelter' of their tents. Barbara and John almost got washed away and decided that met sleeping bags, swirling mists and very cold weather made it advisable to return to Charlotte's Pass. Keith and Kathy and Laurie went with them po the party was almost halved at one blow. The rump set off through the Mist; those who had been there before described to those who hadn't the splendours of the scenery. At this stage my thoughts turned to the crowd.
-at Kandahar. Perhaps they were sitting around at this imment, having a second cup of coffee and planning gourmet meals!
-We had lunch in the spartaa surroundings of the hydrology hut near
-Blue Lake. Joan had spent nearly three days alone in the basement of this hut during the previous Christmas, when it had snowed heavily. Just as well I hadn't rung her up as well, or I may never have gone. This time however, the hut itself was open, sort-of. One stood on a convenient deck-
-chair and climbed into the second-storey door, which had been opened (but
-not forced) by previous visitors. Another cold hut without any cooking facilities. At Kandahar, I thought wistfully as I bit into my lightweight,
-lunch biscuit, they would be having pots of hot soup, substantial sandwiches, even quiche or spaghetti marinara; accompanied by copious amounts of fermented products, I had another glass of delicious Tang.
-We struggled off into the mist on the Twynam track (marked 'Closed'). Our co-leader, Barry, was going to decide whether to proceed or not, depending on what could be seen from the trig. Fortunately, the mist lifted
-briefly and we pushed on to Pounds Creek, where we camped early. This put 1,1B half a day behind schedule but we figured we had battled bravely enough for one day. There was a lot of snow about and we had had some anxious moments trying to re-locate the track after it had disappeared into the
-subterranean depths of large snowdrifts. The weather got better the lower we went, and by sunset we had a good fire to sit around and drink a toast (in tea of course) to Laurie the Teamaker.
-Next day we set off at eight a.m. to conquer Mt. Tate, Dickie Cooper
-Bogong, a million prickly bushes, a road bash, and 23 kilometres. We camped near Valentine's Hut, where the supply of wood was depleted by the numerous users of the hut. However, we found enough to yarn around the
-fire by and guess at the implications of the sky patterns. A thick hogsback
-jalang in the east; a crescent moon in the west; peaceful stars in the north
-and scudding clouds in the south. It must have all cancelled itself out, for the morning was beautiful. Winter followed by spring: Off we galloped at eight a.m. again, still making up time, arriving at Grey Mare Hut in mid-morning and inspecting the famous Rat Menu. The reputation of this hut may need to be revised, as it too was clean and tidy and being maintained by a volunteer group.
-We followed the Strumbo Range, avoiding the Strawberry Hill approach
-to Jagungal and tackling ridges to the west. It was a long climb through
-tenacious bushes that fought back gamely and often needed two or three assaults before they conceded defeat. We camped in a delightful spot on
-the edge of a glacial cirque about an hour's walk from the summit of Jagungal.
-Next morning we rocketed up to the peak, packless, and were astonished to find that Keith and Kathy, whom we had not seen for days, had been there just
-two hours before.
-The seasons had changed again, and we now had summer weather for the trip to Mawson's Hut, which meant two things - one good, swimming, and one bad, hordes of march flies. This was supposed to be an easy day of 12 km as programmed, since ae had made up the ground lost by the first two days of bad weather, but somehow it turned into another 19 km day. It was New Year's Eve, too, and a less likely set of celebrants you never saw. It seemed time before dinner to bring out the demon rum and give everyone a
-bit of a kick-start. Under the circumstances, it was decreed that midnight
-Page 4	THE SYDNEY BUSHWALKER	January, 1982.
-would be at 10 o'clock. Strange and exotic delicacies appeared, boisterous games were played, and by ten o'clock we found we were quite wide awake:
-We managed to stay awake until eleven after all, helped along by Jim's
-popcorn made in a billy.
-wild and stormy dawn drove Brian and his tent into the safety of
-the nearby hut. It wasn't that he thought he'd get blown away, he explained,
-but he wasn't going to carry that rotten tent wet again. We'd had winter, spring, summer; and now it was autumnal as we set off at the all too familiar
-hour of eight a.m. for 'Mite's River Hut. By autumnal I mean it looked as if the day was going to be a repeat of the first two days but less cold.
-We got to the hut so early we decided to knock off the Rolling Ground and
-Mt. Tate as well and get back to our happy spot at Pounds Creek. The 26 km was too much for Brian's feet, which looked pre-masticated by the time w6 got there. The wind, which had been strong all day, really got going and niade cooking very difficult. Once again my thoughts turned to the Perisher Mob. No doubt they were planning the execution of wonderful culinary feats
-over a few pre-dinner drinks. I discovered a teaspoon each of the good stuff
-left over from the night before. My dinner of scrambled powdered egg, eaten' in the shelter of a tent, was quite delicious, thank you:
-Up till the last day we had all .been quite serious about this strange
-bushwalking business. Barry had co-led, mostly from the front; and Jim had co-led, mostly from the rear; giving succour to the wounded and faith
-to the fainthearted. Although we had walked a long way already, on the
-lp,st day we decided to add a bit more to our trip and whizz out to The Sentinal and back. Since I was the only one who had been there before, the co-leaders
-naively entrusted me with route-finding. We did have a lovely walk out to the end of Watson's Crags!. Those who pronounced this effort to be superior to The Sentinal anyway got hugs.
-A huge drift hung above Blue Lake. Out came pieces of plastic, garbage bags, rubber bats, anything that would slide, and we took the slope the 'easy' way - on our bottoms. This part of the mountain was alive with people; some heard us shrieking with laughter as we tramped back up the
-slope for another go. One of these innocents caused quite a stir when she
-said she hoped she would be like us when she was as old as we were: There
-was another big drift above Healey Tarn which we treated with more respect
-a4_ it sloped steeply into icy water. We made Charlotte's Pass by six p.m. ',wanted to visit Kandahar; but the thought of six bedraggled bods arriving snack in the middle of dinner would be too much even for B.B., I reckoned. Instead we went back to Sawpit for hot showers and into Jindabyne, where we
-finished the walk in fine style at the Bowling Club. This is a good spot to know about, although Colin wishes he'd never heard of itl We had had atterrific week with lots of variety, and our little party had worked well as a group. Joan was pushing our luck a bit when she tried to convince
-the ranger that we were a family and should only pay for one campsite at Sawpit, but we all will remember the ambiance of this trip for a long time.
-* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
-Page ._.5	THE SYDNEY Med
-January, 1982.
-'
-=MONTHS' LONG SERVICE LEA...1TE
-by Evelyn Walker. LINDOS.
-The 11.30 bus from Rhodes city took us along the 56 km run down the east coast to Lindos. It was full of tourists and baggage and one elderly local woman decided to sit with her shopping on the floor. An hour and a half later we pulled into the village square which had a large leafy tree in
-the middle. The square was on the edge of the village and that was as far
-as traffic could go. On a rocky outcrop above the village, with the white, box-like houses clustered at its feet, rose the impressive battlemented
-acropolis, and beneath us the sweep of the bay, where some people were
-stretched on the sand. And the air was filled with the sweet scent of lemon blossom.
-Shouldering my pack I walked down into the main street looking for
-pension.Athina. Some 10-12 feet in width and cobbled, the main street was
-lined for quite a distance with the prettiest Greek dresses, blouses and skirts. Quite a surprise: The little whitewashed shops on each side had metal rails running along the wall with holes for hangers, which served
-excellently to display the clothing. Warm invitations to look at other
-goods came from every direction.
-No one I asked had heard of Pension Athina but at last someone suggested
-enquire at Alexi's bar. There a helpful man offered to show me the way, but the place was closed and very unpromising. Back to Alexi's. Then a
-boy, was sent and a man appeared who fortunately knew of the arrangement. Purther down the cobbled street, right at a shop which I fixed in my memory,
-then left down another street hardly six feet wide and we stopped at a gate
-in the long white wall. At last I was to see into one of those courtyards:
-Inside there was a whitewashed one-storey house, with attractive plants
-trailing up it, and a stair on one side leading to two rooms at the top, with
-a narrow room between containing a basin and loo. Over part of the family home there was a flat roof with a clothes line and pegs, together with a . :shower rose, rail and curtain, so that one might have enjoyed an al fresco: -shower if the day was not windy. There was an excellent view of the acro-
-polis and other rooftops. Below was the secluded courtyard - - a real retreat from the throng outside.
-Back to Alexi's again, where I would be having my breakfast, and I sat at a table in the street under a tree enjoying a 'hotdog' from next door all that seemed to be offering, as Alexi's only serves breakfast. However the hotdog consisted of slices of hot meat wrapped in an envelope of bread and tasted very good.
-The urge to explore had now become irresistible. The little cobbled streets, ranging in width from 10 to 4 feet, edged with long white walls and drained by neat little slots running down the centre, were all equally enticing. The only traffic which used them was motorised carts used to deliver food and drink, and they rattled over the cobbles sounding like motor bikes. On the way towards the acropolis there was an old Byzantine church, plain on the outside by amazingly ornate within. The large arched entrance with its notice asking women to be modestly dressed led to a domed interior with two short domed wings. In the dim light given by a candelabra
-Page 6	TEE SYDNEY BUSHWAIKER	January, 1982.
-one could make out the carved wood, painted in gold, and an intricately carved gold screen with tha.usual.paintinga.of saints._ To the left a lofty red Pu pit gave a good view of the congregation. The air was filled with incense.
-On leaving I climbed up some well made cobbled steps edged with square blocks of stone up the rock to the acropolis. On either side of thepath for 100 yards the ground was spread with hand-worked lace tablecloths in white and off-white and women pleaded with us to examine them. The work was excellent and the p:Ace cheap but I just couldn't-think of a use for .a. lace tablecloth, so kept going to the entrance, only to find that the gate' would not be opening until 4 pm. Relieved to find another path down, which would avoid the tablecloth women, I had a drink on the beach, resolved to come to terms with the Greek siesta.
-The climb back to the acropolis by the second path revealed its purpose - to provide sidesaddle donkey rides for those who did not want to walk up the
-steep path. The acropolis is certainly impressive from the outside. Set, on a hill of steep cliffs of attractively coloured and eroded rock, it gives a commanding view of the little bay. Entry was gained by a steep flight of
-pink/brown steps to an arched doorway which led through well-preserved walls. Inside there were several groups of columns and part of an old building in the same warm brown - interesting, but less so than the walls. Down on one side was the little natural harbour, entirely undeveloped, where St. Paul is
-thought to have landed.
-At 8 pm I went to the nearest restaurant, 0 Perikli, just round the corner and, seeing it nearly full, concluded that it must be good. It was
-a,little spartan. The tablecloths were covered with clean paper secured by
-an elastic band which ran right round. The people appeared to be largely locals and people travelling cheaply as the place made no pretence of attracting tourists like the smarter places. But the moussaka and tomato salad . were second to none. A small girl of about five busied herself with clearing the bottles and struggling to spread a clean paper cloth on a nearby table. She was helped and encouraged by her proud father. The Greeks are obviously fond of their children and show it.
-After dinner when darkness had fallen Lindos became even more enchanting. The narrow streets were lit by attractive lamps' attached to the walls at each corner and beckon one to go on to the next. The village seemed so safe and happy. Further on were the smarter restaurants, but there'were few people - in them by then.
-That night the one warm blanket on the bed was by no means warm.enou
-On the wardrobe a pile of flokati rugs offered the Only solution and I spreaki one on my bed and slept.
- Twiddling the four taps in the washroom next morning in a vain hunt for hot water for the basin, I was suddenly sprayed with cold. Looking up, I noticed a shower rose in the ceiling which soaked everything in the tiny space - loo, basin, walls, window - and any clothing. Not having the familiar bush- walking garbage bag to keep things dry would make showering difficult. But it was an obvious improvement on the one outside.
-From the flat roof it was easy to see that many one-storey houses had
-Page	- THE MUM BUSHWALKER-	January, 1982.
-similar upstairs accommodation. I wondered how the families had .been able to raise the capital, and whether the government might have helped as an excellent way of increasing accommodation without changing the appearance of the village.
-Round a few corners for breakfast at Alexi's, consisting of hot bread, jam and 'Nescoffee'. Bacon and eggs were also available but no fresh orange juice, despite me fact that the tiny fruit shop contained plenty of oranges.
-Climbing some steps from the square in order to get above the village
-I found the way blocked. by almost sheer rock. On the way down I came upon a man hoeing-a tiny flat area -- no more than eight by five feet, edged with a wall of stones cleared from the soil. Tomatoes were being grown. Further down similar tiny plots were raising onions and cucumbers. Every possible patch was put to use.
-After buying a cheese roll and apple cake I decided to alk to Lardos,' the next village, some 8 km away. A-German couple on the way told :me that a tiny hamlet called. Pefki, containing two restaurants and about ten people, was not far. They were planning to move there as they found Lindos too crowded. It certainly did fill up when the tourist buses started arriving and the slow queue climbed to the acropolis, but early or late it 'seemed delightful to me. Pefki turned out to be bigger than expected, but very scattered. The road resembled a dirt road in the Australian bush, with
-and rocks in places, but otherwise good. Than I came to a few very comfortable houses -- more like expensive ones in Australia -- overlooking the sea and Owning boats. Obviously millionaires' (or foreigners') alley.
-Along a well made main road for five minutes, down another dirt road, and there was Lardos. In the heart of the village of newly painted and . tumbledown houses was an attractive fountain, at which a woman filled a large pottery water jar, but there were no neat slots down the streets to drain the water, which flowed haphazardly. .Another woman standing in her doorway addressed me in halting French and invited me inside. The home seemed to have only one bright blue room with a ceiling lined with wood, and containing two beds and a table, a television and a fridge. . She offered me a boiled' sweet and told me she had to go and bake some bread - there must have been a little bakehouse at the back.
-After dinner that evening in one of the smarter restaurants I saw a notice outside a taverna advertising the televising of a football match between Liverpool and Munich. This brought in a fair crowd of supporters and I waS lucky to get a seat with four friendly Germans to watch the full-colour programme, but I didn't stay long enough to find out who won.
-On an early walk to the square next day I saw two elderly man sitting chatting under the thee. I went back for my camera but when I returned they had gone and the tourist buses were filling the square. Up on the rock the slow column of people was crawling up to the acropolis. Time to get out.
-I could have taken a ride on one of the buses going back to Rhodes and dropped off at one of the stops, but decided to walk to another village, Kalathos. The air was filled with a pleasant aromatic scent which I traced to a plant with pale blue flowers, but the amateur botanist who just happened along at
-.	.
+|**Editor**|Helen Gray, 209 Malton Road, Epping, 2121. Telephone 86,6263.|
-that moment couldn't identify it, though he had come to LindDs for a holiday to study the plants. Round the corner, and there was somebody's pride and joy - a large modern hotel in its own bay. ' I felt grateful for my little courtyard.
+|**Business Manager**|Bill Burke, 3 Coral Tree Drive, Carlingford, 2118. Telephone 871,1207.|
+|**Typist**|Kath Brown.|
+|**Duplicator Operator**|Phil Butt.|
-Kalathos was very small, yet even there building was going on. I noticed the sane' interesting practice as in other Places - every building has a number, even the church. Some zealous numberer has slapped still fairly new numbers an new and derelict building alike. On the way back lout across a ridge to the beach. The day-trippers had gone and the charm of Lindos returned in the evening sunshine.
+=== January, 1982 ===
-A delicious dinner of sat siki (yoghourt and onions) and I was ready for Socrates' bar, where I met again a young fellow who was.uorking in Lindos all summer at the Acropolis disco. He invited some of us along but the noise was earsplitting and I didn't stay long.
-And so the next morning, after a quick walk round before the tourists
-arrived, I caught the early bus back to Rhodes and then on to the airport for
-my flight to Athens. I had been told in Australia that it is Lindos which
-Rhodes for the tourist and certainly it's as well worth seeing as the capital. But it's essential to stay for a few nights, in a little pension With a courtyard, to enjoy its charm to the full.
+===== In This Issue: =====
+| | |Page|
+|Snowy Mountains - Dec 27 to Jan 2|Jo van Sommers| 2|
+|Three Months' Long Service Leave - Lindos|Evelyn Walker| 5|
+|Letter to the Editor| | 8|
+|Notices| | 9|
+|The Heaphy|Bill Gamble|11|
+|The December General Meeting|Barry Wallace|14|
+|Social Notes for February|Peter Miller|15|
+|Nature Notes - Uloola Track|Kath Brown|16|
+===== Advertisements: =====
+| |Page|
+|Eastwood Camping Centre|10|
+----
+===== Snowy mountains - Dec 27 to Jan 2. =====
+by Jo van Sommers.
+Main Range - Jagungal - Main Range.
+Led by Jim Percy and Barrie Murdoch.
+On Christmas Day 1981, Two Triple Jay, aamittedly not a particularly reliable source, announced the prospect of a White Christmas at Perisher Valley. This gave me some pause. The following day was to be the start of seven days walking on the Main Range and out to Jagungal and back. Every other time I had been to the Snowy Mountains, summer or winter, there had been the comfort of a lodge to return to. Obviously I needed some advice. I knew that Bill Burke had a private party of seasoned members at his Perisher Valley Lodge at the same time as I was going to be bravely exposing myself to the elements. Besides, the food list I'd dug out ftom the last long walk I'd done (ssh, it was 1957!) was full of strange items like dehydrated vegetable stew, hanks of bacon and Ry Vita biscuits. Surely something good must have happened to lightweight food in the interval. Sure enough, Bill provided me with a terrific list which I followed faithfully to the last gram. He also regaled me with tales of previous disasters. Had I heard of the time he was rung up at Perisher from Charlotte's Pass by a bedraggled party who asked him to come and get them before they froze? What about the time he was marooned in Mawson's Hut for nearly three days in a Christmastime blizzard? Did the leaders know to head for a hut and stay there if the weather turned nasty? Had I remembered to pack my beanie, gloves, long trousers, heavy rainjacket and stormproof tent?
+By this time I was starting to think I was preparing for a trip to Antarctica. However, I was glad I took all those items. We drove up on boxing Day and made a cold camp at Sawpit Creek. Next day we rendezvoused at Charlotte's Pass in a freezing wind. Our party was preceded by a group of giant Atlases with incredible legs, who moved off smartly into the bleakness, slapping their goitres and ignoring the gale. I felt suddenly frail and puny. We were supposed to climb Kosci from Merritt's Creek, but by the time we got to the creek the rain and mist forced us into Seaman's Hut for a soggy lunch. We zipped across the fields of alpine flowers to Albina Hut, which is being nicely maintained by a group of volunteers and was not full before our party of eleven got there. However it was cold even inside, and there is no way of cooking unless you have brought a stove or carried firewood. We had a somewhat subdued cold dinner. Laurie endeared himself to everyone by making us all cups of tea on his backpacked stove. Despite the rain, the aroma from downstairs drove several of the party to the dubious shelter of their tents. Barbara and John almost got washed away and decided that wet sleeping bags, swirling mists and very cold weather made it advisable to return to Charlotte's Pass. Keith and Kathy and Laurie went with them, so the party was almost halved at one blow. The rump set off through the mist; those who had been there before described to those who hadn't the splendours of the scenery. At this stage my thoughts turned to the crowd at Kandahar. Perhaps they were sitting around at this moment, having a second cup of coffee and planning gourmet meals!
+We had lunch in the spartan surroundings of the hydrology hut near Blue Lake. Joan had spent nearly three days alone in the basement of this hut during the previous Christmas, when it had snowed heavily. Just as well I hadn't rung her up as well, or I may never have gone. This time however, the hut itself was open, sort-of. One stood on a convenient deck-chair and climbed into the second-storey door, which had been opened (but not forced) by previous visitors. Another cold hut without any cooking facilities. At Kandahar, I thought wistfully as I bit into my lightweight lunch biscuit, they would be having pots of hot soup, substantial sandwiches, even quiche or spaghetti marinara; accompanied by copious amounts of fermented products. I had another glass of delicious Tang.
+We struggled off into the mist on the Twynam track (marked 'Closed'). Our co-leader, Barry, was going to decide whether to proceed or not, depending on what could be seen from the trig. Fortunately, the mist lifted briefly and we pushed on to Pounds Creek, where we camped early. This put us half a day behind schedule but we figured we had battled bravely enough for one day. There was a lot of snow about and we had had some anxious moments trying to re-locate the track after it had disappeared into the subterranean depths of large snowdrifts. The weather got better the lower we went, and by sunset we had a good fire to sit around and drink a toast (in tea of course) to Laurie the Teamaker.
+Next day we set off at eight a.m. to conquer Mt. Tate, Dickie Cooper Bogong, a million prickly bushes, a road bash, and 23 kilometres. We camped near Valentine's Hut, where the supply of wood was depleted by the numerous users of the hut. However, we found enough to yarn around the fire by and guess at the implications of the sky patterns. A thick hogsback hung in the east; a crescent moon in the west; peaceful stars in the north and scudding clouds in the south. It must have all cancelled itself out, for the morning was beautiful. Winter followed by spring! Off we galloped at eight a.m. again, still making up time, arriving at Grey Mare Hut in mid-morning and inspecting the famous Rat Menu. The reputation of this hut may need to be revised, as it too was clean and tidy and being maintained by a volunteer group.
+We followed the Strumbo Range, avoiding the Strawberry Hill approach to Jagungal and tackling ridges to the west. It was a long climb through tenacious bushes that fought back gamely and often needed two or three assaults before they conceded defeat. We camped in a delightful spot on the edge of a glacial cirque about an hour's walk from the summit of Jagungal. Next morning we rocketed up to the peak, packless, and were astonished to find that Keith and Kathy, whom we had not seen for days, had been there just two hours before.
+The seasons had changed again, and we now had summer weather for the trip to Mawson's Hut, which meant two things - one good, swimming, and one bad, hordes of march flies. This was supposed to be an easy day of 12 km as programmed, since we had made up the ground lost by the first two days of bad weather, but somehow it turned into another 19 km day. It was New Year's Eve, too, and a less likely set of celebrants you never saw. It seemed time before dinner to bring out the demon rum and give everyone a bit of a kick-start. Under the circumstances, it was decreed that midnight would be at 10 o'clock. Strange and exotic delicacies appeared, boisterous games were played, and by ten o'clock we found we were quite wide awake! We managed to stay awake until eleven after all, helped along by Jim's popcorn made in a billy.
+wild and stormy dawn drove Brian and his tent into the safety of the nearby hut. It wasn't that he thought he'd get blown away, he explained, but he wasn't going to carry that rotten tent wet again. We'd had winter, spring, summer; and now it was autumnal as we set off at the all too familiar hour of eight a.m. for White's River Hut. By autumnal I mean it looked as if the day was going to be a repeat of the first two days but less cold. We got to the hut so early we decided to knock off the Rolling Ground and Mt. Tate as well and get back to our happy spot at Pounds Creek. The 26 km was too much for Brian's feet, which looked pre-masticated by the time we got there. The wind, which had been strong all day, really got going and made cooking very difficult. Once again my thoughts turned to the Perisher Mob. No doubt they were planning the execution of wonderful culinary feats over a few pre-dinner drinks. I discovered a teaspoon each of the good stuff left over from the night before. My dinner of scrambled powdered egg, eaten in the shelter of a tent, was quite delicious, thank you!
+Up till the last day we had all been quite serious about this strange bushwalking business. Barry had co-led, mostly from the front; and Jim had co-led, mostly from the rear; giving succour to the wounded and faith to the fainthearted. Although we had walked a long way already, on the last day we decided to add a bit more to our trip and whizz out to The Sentinal and back. Since I was the only one who had been there before, the co-leaders naively entrusted me with route-finding. We did have a lovely walk out to the end of Watson's Crags!. Those who pronounced this effort to be superior to The Sentinal anyway got hugs.
+A huge drift hung above Blue Lake. Out came pieces of plastic, garbage bags, rubber mats, anything that would slide, and we took the slope the 'easy' way - on our bottoms. This part of the mountain was alive with people; some heard us shrieking with laughter as we tramped back up the slope for another go. One of these innocents caused quite a stir when she said she hoped she would be like us when she was as old as we were! There was another big drift above Hedley Tarn which we treated with more respect as it sloped steeply into icy water. We made Charlotte's Pass by six p.m. I wanted to visit Kandahar; but the thought of six bedraggled bods arriving smack in the middle of dinner would be too much even for B.B., I reckoned. Instead we went back to Sawpit for hot showers and into Jindabyne, where we finished the walk in fine style at the Bowling Club. This is a good spot to know about, although Colin wishes he'd never heard of it! We had had a terrific week with lots of variety, and our little party had worked well as a group. Joan was pushing our luck a bit when she tried to convince the ranger that we were a family and should only pay for one campsite at Sawpit, but we all will remember the ambiance of this trip for a long time.
+----
+===== Three Months' Long Service Leave - Part 2. =====
+by Evelyn Walker.
+__Lindos__.
+The 11.30 bus from Rhodes city took us along the 56 km run down the east coast to Lindos. It was full of tourists and baggage and one elderly local woman decided to sit with her shopping on the floor. An hour and a half later we pulled into the village square which had a large leafy tree in the middle. The square was on the edge of the village and that was as far as traffic could go. On a rocky outcrop above the village, with the white, box-like houses clustered at its feet, rose the impressive battlemented acropolis, and beneath us the sweep of the bay, where some people were stretched on the sand. And the air was filled with the sweet scent of lemon blossom.
+Shouldering my pack I walked down into the main street looking for Pension Athina. Some 10-12 feet in width and cobbled, the main street was lined for quite a distance with the prettiest Greek dresses, blouses and skirts. Quite a surprise! The little whitewashed shops on each side had metal rails running along the wall with holes for hangers, which served excellently to display the clothing. Warm invitations to look at other goods came from every direction.
+No one I asked had heard of Pension Athina but at last someone suggested enquire at Alexi's bar. There a helpful man offered to show me the way, but the place was closed and very unpromising. Back to Alexi's. Then a boy was sent and a man appeared who fortunately knew of the arrangement. Further down the cobbled street, right at a shop which I fixed in my memory, then left down another street hardly six feet wide and we stopped at a gate in the long white wall. At last I was to see into one of those courtyards! Inside there was a whitewashed one-storey house, with attractive plants trailing up it, and a stair on one side leading to two rooms at the top, with a narrow room between containing a basin and loo. Over part of the family home there was a flat roof with a clothes line and pegs, together with a shower rose, rail and curtain, so that one might have enjoyed an al fresco shower if the day was not windy. There was an excellent view of the acropolis and other rooftops. Below was the secluded courtyard - a real retreat from the throng outside.
+Back to Alexi's again, where I would be having my breakfast, and I sat at a table in the street under a tree enjoying a 'hotdog' from next door - all that seemed to be offering, as Alexi's only serves breakfast. However the hotdog consisted of slices of hot meat wrapped in an envelope of bread and tasted very good.
+The urge to explore had now become irresistible. The little cobbled streets, ranging in width from 10 to 4 feet, edged with long white walls and drained by neat little slots running down the centre, were all equally enticing. The only traffic which used them was motorised carts used to deliver food and drink, and they rattled over the cobbles sounding like motor bikes. On the way towards the acropolis there was an old Byzantine church, plain on the outside by amazingly ornate within. The large arched entrance with its notice asking women to be modestly dressed led to a domed interior with two short domed wings. In the dim light given by a candelabra one could make out the carved wood, painted in gold, and an intricately carved gold screen with the usual paintings of saints. To the left a lofty red pulpit gave a good view of the congregation. The air was filled with incense.
+On leaving I climbed up some well made cobbled steps edged with square blocks of stone up the rock to the acropolis. On either side of the path for 100 yards the ground was spread with hand-worked lace tablecloths in white and off-white and women pleaded with us to examine them. The work was excellent and the price cheap but I just couldn't think of a use for a lace tablecloth, so kept going to the entrance, only to find that the gate would not be opening until 4 pm. Relieved to find another path down, which would avoid the tablecloth women, I had a drink on the beach, resolved to come to terms with the Greek siesta.
+The climb back to the acropolis by the second path revealed its purpose - to provide sidesaddle donkey rides for those who did not want to walk up the steep path. The acropolis is certainly impressive from the outside. Set on a hill of steep cliffs of attractively coloured and eroded rock, it gives a commanding view of the little bay. Entry was gained by a steep flight of pink/brown steps to an arched doorway which led through well-preserved walls. Inside there were several groups of columns and part of an old building in the same warm brown - interesting, but less so than the walls. Down on one side was the little natural harbour, entirely undeveloped, where St. Paul is thought to have landed.
+At 8 pm I went to the nearest restaurant, O Perikli, just round the corner and, seeing it nearly full, concluded that it must be good. It was a little spartan. The tablecloths were covered with clean paper secured by an elastic band which ran right round. The people appeared to be largely locals and people travelling cheaply as the place made no pretence of attracting tourists like the smarter places. But the moussaka and tomato salad were second to none. A small girl of about five busied herself with clearing the bottles and struggling to spread a clean paper cloth on a nearby table. She was helped and encouraged by her proud father. The Greeks are obviously fond of their children and show it.
+After dinner when darkness had fallen Lindos became even more enchanting. The narrow streets were lit by attractive lamps attached to the walls at each corner and beckon one to go on to the next. The village seemed so safe and happy. Further on were the smarter restaurants, but there were few people in them by then.
+That night the one warm blanket on the bed was by no means warm enough. On the wardrobe a pile of flokati rugs offered the only solution and I spread one on my bed and slept.
+Twiddling the four taps in the washroom next morning in a vain hunt for hot water for the basin, I was suddenly sprayed with cold. Looking up, I noticed a shower rose in the ceiling which soaked everything in the tiny space - loo, basin, walls, window - and any clothing. Not having the familiar bush-walking garbage bag to keep things dry would make showering difficult. But it was an obvious improvement on the one outside.
+From the flat roof it was easy to see that many one-storey houses had similar upstairs accommodation. I wondered how the families had been able to raise the capital, and whether the government might have helped as an excellent way of increasing accommodation without changing the appearance of the village.
+Round a few corners for breakfast at Alexi's, consisting of hot bread, jam and 'Nescoffee'. Bacon and eggs were also available but no fresh orange juice, despite the fact that the tiny fruit shop contained plenty of oranges.
+Climbing some steps from the square in order to get above the village I found the way blocked by almost sheer rock. On the way down I came upon a man hoeing a tiny flat area - no more than eight by five feet, edged with a wall of stones cleared from the soil. Tomatoes were being grown. Further down similar tiny plots were raising onions and cucumbers. Every possible patch was put to use.
+After buying a cheese roll and apple cake I decided to walk to Lardos, the next village, some 8 km away. A German couple on the way told me that a tiny hamlet called Pefki, containing two restaurants and about ten people, was not far. They were planning to move there as they found Lindos too crowded. It certainly did fill up when the tourist buses started arriving and the slow queue climbed to the acropolis, but early or late it seemed delightful to me. Pefki turned out to be bigger than expected, but very scattered. The road resembled a dirt road in the Australian bush, with ruts and rocks in places, but otherwise good. Then I came to a few very comfortable houses - more like expensive ones in Australia - overlooking the sea and owning boats. Obviously millionaires' (or foreigners') alley.
+Along a well made main road for five minutes, down another dirt road, and there was Lardos. In the heart of the village of newly painted and tumbledown houses was an attractive fountain, at which a woman filled a large pottery water jar, but there were no neat slots down the streets to drain the water, which flowed haphazardly. Another woman standing in her doorway addressed me in halting French and invited me inside. The home seemed to have only one bright blue room with a ceiling lined with wood, and containing two beds and a table, a television and a fridge. . She offered me a boiled sweet and told me she had to go and bake some bread - there must have been a little bakehouse at the back.
+After dinner that evening in one of the smarter restaurants I saw a notice outside a taverna advertising the televising of a football match between Liverpool and Munich. This brought in a fair crowd of supporters and I was lucky to get a seat with four friendly Germans to watch the full-colour programme, but I didn't stay long enough to find out who won.
+On an early walk to the square next day I saw two elderly man sitting chatting under the tree. I went back for my camera but when I returned they had gone and the tourist buses were filling the square. Up on the rock the slow column of people was crawling up to the acropolis. Time to get out. I could have taken a ride on one of the buses going back to Rhodes and dropped off at one of the stops, but decided to walk to another village, Kalathos. The air was filled with a pleasant aromatic scent which I traced to a plant with pale blue flowers, but the amateur botanist who just happened along at that moment couldn't identify it, though he had come to Lindos for a holiday to study the plants. Round the corner, and there was somebody's pride and joy - a large modern hotel in its own bay. I felt grateful for my little courtyard.
+Kalathos was very small, yet even there building was going on. I noticed the same interesting practice as in other places - every building has a number, even the church. Some zealous numberer has slapped still fairly new numbers on new and derelict building alike. On the way back I cut across a ridge to the beach. The day-trippers had gone and the charm of Lindos returned in the evening sunshine.
+A delicious dinner of satsiki (yoghourt and onions) and I was ready for Socrates' bar, where I met again a young fellow who was working in Lindos all summer at the Acropolis disco. He invited some of us along but the noise was earsplitting and I didn't stay long.
+And so the next morning, after a quick walk round before the tourists arrived, I caught the early bus back to Rhodes and then on to the airport for my flight to Athens. I had been told in Australia that it is Lindos which 'sells' Rhodes for the tourist and certainly it's as well worth seeing as the capital. But it's essential to stay for a few nights, in a little pension with a courtyard, to enjoy its charm to the full.
+----
+===== Letter To The Editor. =====
-LETTER TO THE EDITOR.
 Dear Helen,
 As one who has been going to "Coolana" for quite a few years, I would like to thank you and Dot Butler for the use of the mattresses in the building. I am sure I speak for many other people.
 The destruction of these items is regretable and contrary to the usual spirit of co-operation.
-Let's hope the Coolana Committee is consulted in the future. JOHN REDFMIN.
-NOTICE TO ATJt MEMBERS.
+Let's hope the Coolana Committee is consulted in the future.
+John Redfern.
+----
+===== Notices. =====
+=== Notice to all members. ===
 The list of members with addresses and telephone numbers which will be sent out with the Annual Report will be compiled in the first two weeks of February.
-Would members Please notify the Hon. Secretary as soon as possible of any changes of address or 'phone number or any other correction of last year's entry which has not to date been given to her.
-SHEILA BINNS. Hon. Secretary.
+Would members please notify the Hon. Secretary as soon as possible of any changes of address or 'phone number or any other correction of last year's entry which has not to date been given to her.
-ASSISTANCE REWIRED'.
-	The.National-Parks & Wildlife Foundation is seeking helpers for a Door Knock Appeal .to- be held on Sunday 28th. February 182.
+Sheila Binns. Hon. Secretary.
-Interested members are asked to phone AUDREY CROLL on 997,1951 (Home) or 92,1084 (Business).
-XXX	XXXXXXX
+=== Assistance required. ===
-DISCOUNT- .ON itiOT'OG-RAPHI SUPPLIES.
-Rod (rHecl) Carruthers i6 Offering a lO discount on films, photographs
+The National Parks & Wildlife Foundation is seeking helpers for a Door Knock Appeal to be held on Sunday 28th. February '82.
-and equipment from Paxtons Camera House, 283 George Street, to all members of S.B.W.
-SKI-ING.
+Interested members are asked to phone Audrey Croll on 997,1951 (Home) or 92,1084 (Business).
-Ski-ing.at Lake Jindabyne Sport '&11ecreation Centre between
-.26th June - 2nd July.
+=== Discount on photographic supplies. ===
-$15 a day for adults, including .3 meals a day and bed ($105 for the week).
-$6.50. a day for Lessons and use of T-Bar..'
+Rod ('Hec') Carruthers is offering a l0% discount on films, photographs and equipment from Paxtons Camera House, 283 George Street, to all members of S.B.W.
+=== Ski-ing. ===
+Ski-ing at Lake Jindabyne Sport & Recreation Centre between 26th June - 2nd July.
+$15 a day for adults, including 3 meals a day and bed ($105 for the week).
+$6.50 a day for Lessons and use of T-Bar.
 $7 Equipment Hire for first day then $3 a day thereafter.
-ContactBRUGE.Pgai on .4344727 br28th February. *xxxxx
-IS	BUSHWALKERS
+Contact Bruce Lumby on 4114727 by 28th February.
- Lightweight Tents  Sleeping Bags  Rucksacks  Climbing Et Caving Gear  Maps  Clothing a Boots I  Food.
+----
+=== Eastwood Camping Centre. ===
+__Bushwalkers__.
+Lightweight Tents - Sleeping Bags - Rucksacks - Climbing & Caving Gear - Maps - Clothing - Boots - Food.
+__Camping equipment__.
+Large Tents - Stoves - Lamps - Folding Furniture.
+__Distributors of__:
+Paddymade - Karrimor - Berghaus - Hallmark - Bergans - Caribee - Fairydown - Silva - Primus - Companion - and all leading brands.
+Proprietors: Jack & Nancy Fox. Sales Manager: David Fox.
+Eastwood Canvas Good & Camping Supplies.
+Trelawney St., Eastwood, NSW, 2122. Phone 858 2775.
+----
 BELFRY.