Humanity’s Quest for that

Iconic Selfie.

In Australia’s summer of 2014, I decided to forgo bicycle riding the Great Ocean Road. Instead I chose to amble the Great Ocean Walk. 

Back then, I hired Pete to shuttle me from trailheads and accommodations for five days. He charged me A$450 in cash. Pete was meticulous about his timing. His pickups and drop offs were spot on. His didn’t charge extra for weather forecasts, gear storage or transfers, sound advice or entertainment. 

On one particularly windy morning, he admonished me not to walk the beaches that day. “I won’t be able to pick you up in Antarctica if a rogue wave sweeps you away!” 

Pete’s shuttle service was a steal. 

This time I had the World’s smallest car rental. I wanted to do a few day hikes along the GOW. I emailed a shuttle service about a drop off at a trailhead. Cost for a nine mile hike back to my sedan? A$120. (If I spent that sort of money each time I hiked, I would be living full time in my van down by the river by now.) I said thanks, but no thanks. 

Something changed.

I checked accommodations in the Great Ocean Road’s western entry town. Port Campbell motels were not only booked out for the whole month of February, the costs were Andromeda Galaxy sky high. 

My WW J senses screamed out the answer, “The Tour Bus Crowd discovered the Great Ocean Road!” 

With that thought in mind, I lit out from the affordable housing town of Warrnambool at first light.  It was so early the only place open to catch a “flat white and hot cakes” was Maccas. ( Aussie speak for MacDonald’s. ) 

I caught a front row spot at the Twelve Apostles parking lot. (Upon my return, the lot was full. There were three attendants directing traffic too). I headed out with a delicious morning sun for photos. There were only a few humans around. With the help of a friendly couple, I scored my iconic selfie of the eight Apostles. (There never was twelve. ) I dawdled a bit, but then noticed an increase of humanity. It was time for me to walk east on the Great Ocean Walk. 

Let me say this about the GOW. You don’t actually see the ocean all that much. Although even a deaf guy like me can hear the soothing white noise of the waves. Oftentimes, you walk through tunnels of bush land. Not very scenic, but high scores for solitude. I went east a respectable way and started back to my sedan. 

Overhead helicopters were gouging passengers of their money, while horseflies were gorging on the walkers below. By this time there were plenty of meals available for the biting swarms. However these hikers weren’t carrying backpacks or water. They were clinging onto cell phones for upcoming selfies. They were well coiffed and recently showered. The women were making fashion statements. Some carried parasols to block the scorching no ozone Aussie sun.  Many were wearing inappropriate footwear. They were the Nouveau Riche Chinese Nationals I had recently read about!

My tour bus assumption was correct. According to the article, many Chinese are willing to pay up to A$1000/night to be chauffeured, pampered, placed in better than average accommodations and fed non-pub grub meals. They probably were guaranteed high speed WiFi to upload their selfies on Facebook too. (Chinese visitors rank number two in Australia. They will quickly surpass the Kiwis if the trends continue). 

To give my readers a frame of reference, I’m spending around A$200/day including the care and feeding of the world’s smallest rental car. I sleep in budget cabins in caravan parks where I have to deploy chemical warfare on thousands of unwanted squatters. (An ant infestation.) My lunches are PB & boysenberry sandwiches. My teas (Aussie speak for dinners) are takeaway Asian food, fish and chips or pub meals of chicken parmi. AKA parmigiana. I’m definitely not starving. 

Now I’ll get to my point, (finally). Many of the World’s iconic places are now approachable by motor vehicles. IE: Twelve Apostles, Machu Picchu, Yosemite Valley, the Maroon Bells of Colorado, Crater Lake, Grand Canyon and the fiords of Milford Sound to name a few. With very little effort or discomfort people are scoring those show-the-world-I’ve-been-there pictures. 

So the pretty places are getting more crowded. This has been a constant lament of my blog. Remember Genesis 1:28? That’s the “be fruitful and multiply, and fill the Earth and subdue it” part of the Old Testament. Maybe humanity is doing too good a job of performing God’s well intentioned suggestions. Our mere presence is polluting the places we love. 

Ahh, but if you are willing to do the sweat labor to get to scenic areas, there’s still heaps of beauty out there. You will probably have to wear appropriate footwear though. 

On another theme. By now many of you are thinking, “Jeff! How’s your knee?”

So I’ll tell you. It’s no bueno. They say denial is more than a River in Egypt. I decided to finally go to the source of all knowledge. I Googled signs and symptoms of a torn meniscus. I checked off pain, swelling, snap, crackles and pops ETC. 

BINGO! 

I scored them all. Eventually, I will require a surgery to repair this problem.

On a positive note, recently I sold a paperback copy of my book to someone in Denmark. For this I was paid 89 cents. That should help defray the cost of the inevitable surgery.

Here’s the book link:

 

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B006VXRMUG?keywords=Jeff%20Sambur&qid=1447125667&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1b

Better than donating to a GoFundMe. At least you’ll receive an IPPY Gold Medal Award Winning book. (Available on Kindle too). 

Happy Chinese New Year.

It’s the year of the pig, which is appropriate for my coming months of sloth.

Cheers from stormy Apollo Bay, Victoria 

Jeff 

An Aussie Trip like no

other. 

I’ve been traveling to Australia since the pre “Crocodile Dundee” year of 1986. Currently this is my sixth time Down Under. I guess you can say I like it here. In my past journeys, I’ve brought along a “push bike.” (Aussie-speak for bicycle). It was my primary mode of transportation, exercise and entertainment. 

In the Aussie summer of 2013/2014 I brought a push bike once again. On a personal note, it was post July 11th, 2011. The date where I came so close to being an ex-Wandering Wondering Jew. The day I nearly got killed while riding my bicycle. 

Read all about it: 

https://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2018/07/maybe-i-believe-in-god.html

During that five month stay, I tested the tire pressure to see if I was still willing to share space with speeding sedans, trucks and motorcycles. The answer turned out to be “NO!” When I boxed my bike in Adelaide at the end of the tour, I knew my passion for cycling had been heaved into a dustbin. I was done. 

One door closes, another one opens. 

Now instead of two tires to get around, I use two legs. (One with a dodgy knee). For the first time Down Under I’m renting a sedan as my primary mode of wandering to arrive at places to hike, sleep, Happy Hour and eat. 

I rented the World’s smallest car. Its a luxury item compared to living out of two bike panniers and a small duffle bag. I now have space  for a used coffee maker and coffee, extra food, recently purchased T-shirts and shorts and a slab (Aussie speak for a case) of tasty locally brewed IPA. I’m living large. 

As far as the knee goes. I’m feeling helpless as my fitness level goes south while my girth goes north. I tried lying low in Hobart, Tasmania in order to rest it. I practiced being a tourist. I visited the Royal Tasmanian Botanical Gardens (Two Thumbs Up!), the Maritime Museum (don’t waste a schooner’s worth of beer on this one), the Mawson’s Hut replica from his 1912 Antarctic Expedition (Outstanding) and my favorite the Hobart Brewery. 

Quick story about the brewery. I walked in after a BUSY day of touristing. I glanced at the beer list. I blinked. FYIPA! That’s my go to IPA from Boulder, Colorado’s Mountain Sun brewery. Next to it was a decal from Mountain Sun. I just happened to be wearing my Mountain Sun Brewery T shirt. That garment was worth a few shouts, (Aussie speak for a free round). Turns out a brewer from Mountain Sun (Scott) immigrated to Tasmania. 

BTW. He’s still creating great beers. 

It’s a small world, but you wouldn’t want to paint it.

Back to the knee. It’s still not right. I’ve had a few readers give me referrals for a Doctor. They say one of his treatments would take care of all my problems. There would be no need for a second opinion. They assure me he’d be the last physician I’d ever see.

His name? Doctor Kevorkian.

Why am I so nervous about my appointment?

From Portland, Victoria (birthplace of the winds),

Cheers,

Jeff

I have an aversion to Wilderness Huts...

We don’t have many in the US. The few I’ve seen are in the Eastside Appalachian Mountains. They are sort of respectable. They have bunkbeds set apart. The sleeping units are more than a breath away from your neighbor. I could handle the space. 

While visiting New Zealand in 2015,  I was handed a harsh reality. People in some countries don’t share this Westside American’s idea of personal space. Upon seeing a hut where 24 hikers were coexisting and sleeping in a 12’x20’ space. (There were three levels of sleeping platforms.) I raised the Sambur White Flag. I surrendered and realized this won’t work for me. 

Read about it here:

https://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2017/01/a-hut-too-far.html

On my recent Overland Track hike, I was saddened to see the sleeping arrangements were still of the Chinese Opium Den variety. (A cramped crash pad.) I slept in my tent four out of five nights. 

https://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2019/01/when-aussies-speak-about.html

Steve, an Aussie Buddy of mine from the 1980’s knew about my phobia. While plying him for Tasmanian hiking info, he suggested the Three Capes Walk. 

The trail is relatively new. It’s three years young. It took five years to construct the huts and trail. It cost 30,000,000 Australian Dollars to make. The Three Capes Track was created for the brand-new-gear-crowd and people like me. Folks who are willing to pay more for a bit of luxury in the Great Outdoors. (Cost $355 USD/person). 

I booked a spot for one and forgot about it until I arrived in the one hotel town of Port Arthur. There’s not much else there besides the National Historic Site. 

I dawdled around until my 11:30 am ferry ride to the start. Little did I know, one of the Capes views would be from a small boat. For those who are unaware, a cape is “surrounded by water, big water, ocean water” (Quote by the Commander of the Drama and Crisis Creation). It was an hour of swaying, cold salt water spraying and me choking down a heaving. I didn’t sign up for this. 

Once landed, I donned my pack to hit Terra Firma. An hour later, I was at the Surveyor Hut. Glen the Warden came out to see me and showed me to my four bunk room. I tossed my pack on a lower bed and went exploring. 

Unbelievable! There was an outdoor gas grill, two kitchens with pots, pans and utensils, three gas stoves in each kitchen, a library, board and card games, yoga mats, comfy outdoor chairs, a deck with picnic tables, a cellphone and I Pad charging station, toilet paper in the WC, hand soap and 8” thick memory foam mattresses to sleep upon. The huts themselves were made of wood, steel and glass. A definite sturdy construction type. The second hut had a hot water shower. I was wowed at first sight. 

A note about the trail conditions: They were the best I’ve ever seen. I think staff members dust them each morning. If that doesn’t work, they must use a leaf blower with a silencer. 

I grabbed snack food, a book and a comfy deck chair. Group by group my fellow travelers arrived. (The Huts accommodate 48 hikers/day). It didn’t take long for me to realize once again, I was the solo Wandering Wondering Yank Jew among the many family units. (There were five young women, but they interacted more with each other and their cell phones than the other guests.) A few families placed invisible “Do Not Disturb” signs around themselves. It was quickly apparent they wanted quality family time. 

Good thing I brought a book and the library was well stocked.

As Yogi Berra said, “You can observe a lot by just watching.” So I did. This is what I noticed. Most hikers were new at this. They hauled in steaks, salmon, fresh veggies, bottled wine and three complete clothes ensembles. Women wore makeup and stylist silk scarves. Men-folk brought a variety of headwear. I saw real plates, Tupperware and silverware too. Cotton socks with boots were observed as well. Earbuds and Bose headphones were the rage. Texting and phone calls were a constant reminder we weren’t too far from civilization. 

Those 47  Aussies must have thought I was feral. I wore the same cotton shirt and two pairs of shorts. I ate dehydrated dinners, almonds, cashews, dried apricots, Starbucks shots, PB&J sandwiches and Clif Bars. I carried a plastic lightweight cup and spoon. That’s it. I survived. 

After awhile, I met my roommates. They were a pleasant family unit consisting of a married couple and one brother. I decided not be an interloper. I grabbed a thick mattress and slept outside and in the dining room area for the next three nights. The first outside sleep, I woke to a wallaby staring up at me. I’m pretty sure she winked. The second night outside, I was run over by an opossum. I moved indoors after that. 

By the second night, a few family units invited me to join them for dinner. The conversations were cordial and friendly. Eventually I thanked all for their kindness and let them be.

Each morning I headed off early.  I wanted the solitude. I had  hoped to see wildlife too. That didn’t work. I saw two poisonous snakes, one shy wallaby and a few flittering birds. I scored my quiet time though. 

Ahh! But the ocean side views were amazing. Even a curmudgeon like myself appreciated them. See for yourself. 

I’ll say this about the Three Cape Walk. I loved it. I would enjoy going back again with a potential First Lady. I would just politely ask her to leave her cell phone behind. For that favor, I’d carry in salmon,  fresh veggies and two plates. I’d put the bottle of wine in a plastic container too. 

Seriously, it’s well worth the Aussie or US bucks.

From Hobart, 

Cheers,

Jeff