Tuesday 29 December 2015

National Parks

Pet Peeve time ...

An email today from a friend who is exploring Lane Cove National Park, which is in suburban Sydney got me thinking about one of my pet peeves. Although I've lived in Australia almost all of my adult life and absolutely love it here, there is one thing about this country that really gets my goat, and that's our concept of what constitutes a "national park". My reference to Lane Cove National Park has probably alerted you to where I am going with this.

Don't get me wrong! I am immensely proud of the truly amazing natural places in Australia that are protected and honoured with national park status. One example is Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park, where I made the following images ...

The mighty Uluru
Uluru at Dusk
The mesmerising Kata Tjuta
Other majestic examples readily spring to mind, especially Kakadu in the Northern Territory and, here in Tasmania, our very own Southwest Tasmania National Park. All three of these parks are on Australia's World Heritage list, as is the amazing Great Barrier Reef - which, interestingly, is not listed as a national park.

What I do struggle to come to terms with is the way we put parks like Lane Cove and Terrick Terrick (a charming place, but a National Park? Come on!) into the same category as those breathtaking and iconic environments. Here in Tasmania, places like Hartz Mountains National Park and Maria Island National Park are both lovely but, on a world scale, not truly worthy of the title. It seems to me that we demean the notion of what a national park is about when we bundle landscapes that might have a local attraction - and which one might visit in passing -  together with places that are of such value people travel from around the world to visit them.

This takes me back to the idea of the national park, in fact the invention of the national park, which may be America's best idea. (If you have never seen the Ken Burns documentary, it is a beautiful production and well worth a look.) Yellowstone National Park, the world's first national park, was enacted in 1872, an event that helped the world see itself in a different way.

In some ways I think we Australians have got a little too carried away with this idea, and in other ways have not been committed enough to the grand vision of what a national park should be. The fact that we have over 500 national parks displays a commitment to preserving our natural environment: at the same time that fact clearly shows we don't distinguish majesty from mediocrity when it comes to identify places worthy of the title. In fact I'd argue  that we don't truly have any national parks - other than those that have World Heritage Status. Why? Because we don't have a national body with a unified vision and funding stream to administer national parks.

I think it's a pity that we don't seem to be able to manage this distinction. They seem to be able to do it in Canada. Have a look at this video that features footage from thirteen of British Columbia's provincial parks ...


A couple of other stunning examples that I have visited include the Bugaboos and Mount Assiniboine, all of these in B.C., and not deemed significant enough to merit national park status. Mount Assiniboine, can't make the national park standard, but it does get a guernsey as part of the World Heritage Canadian Rocky Mountains Park.

Unfortunately, I can't us changing the way we view, administer and fund national parks in this country: which is our loss - and a serious threat to the environments that parks are meant to protect. Here in Tasmania we've even had a government - as recently as last year - try to get a bit of World Heritage chopped off so it can literally be chopped up.

So, I've got that off my chest. What do you think? I'd love it if you left a comment ...

Friday 25 December 2015

A Hartz Christmas

Hartz Peak

Of all the 60 Great Short Walks in Tasmania - and we've done most of them - our favourite by a long way is the hike to Hartz Peak. We've lost count of how many times we've been there, from taking our own kids when they were little tackers, to guiding students, to strolling out with overseas visitors. A short distance but with nicely varied terrain and views into the heart of Southwest Tasmania, the Hartz Peak walk always rewards. To get there one travels through historic Geeveston, the spiritual home of old-time timber harvesting in southern Tasmania.

Today is Christmas Day, and there is a heat wave in Hobart. It got to 36 degrees and the wind is blowing up outside. Not ideal conditions for a ride, but almost perfect for a short walk in the southwest. After dropping in on Di's mum to wish her a Merry Christmas we headed south. It was already 27 degrees in the city when we left a little after 9:00 a.m., and had heated up another three degrees by the time we finished our visit with Beryl. True to form though, it cooled off a bit as we headed into the forests west of Geeveston.

There were a few cars in the parking lot when we set out. Here's part of a sign that marks the start of the old track ...

A precious heritage


With the construction of a large shelter, the start of the track has been moved twenty metres or so to the left ...

New flash facilities

Just along the track there is a boot cleaning station to try to keep Phytopthera in check ...

Boot cleaning station


Initially the track winds through scrub on a modern section of duck-boards ...

Typical southwest scrub

... but emerges shortly into beautiful heath, where the track consists of old  wooden billets held in place with fence wire and staples ...

Hartz in the distance

... but then more modern duck-boarding continues for most of the rest of the way along the flats ...

Getting closer

Surprising us in the middle of the plateau was a lone Tasmanian waratah. It was past its best but still not looking too bad ...

Tasmania Waratah


It's quite a lot smaller and much more delicate, intricate - and beautiful! - than its mainland cousin.

Along the way one passes a nice variety of vegetation, including the odd bit of cushion plant ...

Cushion Plant
Along the route ...

Walking route to Hartz Peak

... you can detour via Lake Esperance and Ladies Tarn, where there are nice spots for a picnic.

The climb up Hartz Pass involves a bit of easy scrambling, then once up on to the col the track consists of nice rock work ...

Rock slabs lead through sub alpine vegetation 


Rock steps lead up to the shoulder below Hartz Peak

Once on the shoulder wonderful views suddenly appear. The next image shows Federation Peak in the distance ...

Federation Peak beckons


The slopes at this point face northwest and are clad with hardy, ground-hugging shrubbery ...

Follow the track!

At  this point there is a nice view back over Hartz Lake towards Mount Picton directly behind and Mount Anne (seen as the small, classic arrowhead towards the middle right background) ...

View over Hartz Lake


... before a more rudimentary track picks its way through a dolerite boulder ...

Summit boulder field
... which in turn leads to the summit, with views across to the Southern Ranges - including the impressive Precipitous Bluff which looms above New River Lagoon - and the Southern Ocean behind ...

On top of Hartz Peak
You can see why we refer to this gorgeous walk as a window into the secret southwest wilderness, where there are no roads to disrupt the landscape.

We stopped for lunch and to enjoy the views south towards Snowy Peak and the southern end of D'Entrecasteaux Channel to the southeast  ...


Snowy Peak


There was a quite a lot of Mountain Rocket out along the track, including this specimen right at the top of the peak ...

Mountain Rocket


Know that if you want to see this beauty, you will have to come to Tasmania and visit the alpine environment, as it is endemic to our little island outpost.


I will leave you with a Google Earth image of the route to the peak. It imparts another perspective on the terrain covered ...


Hartz under snow
(Although it is Christmas Day, we didn't have snow on our walk. However, this being Tasmania, that is not  impossible! In fact a cold front is on its way that could well drop a dusting of white stuff on the higher peaks. Anything is possible on this far-flung island, perched at it is at the edge of the Southern Ocean!)

Joyeux Noel from Doug and Dianne

Friday 18 December 2015

Knee Trembler?

SHATTERED. TWICE. ON CONSECUTIVE DAYS.

Aside: Readers of a certain age (les gens d'un certain âge) will recognise the phrase "knee trembler", while the younger set might be a bit at sea.
This was Di's suggestion for the title so blame her if you're a little taken aback.)

Riding out into Tasmania's wild southwest

We have had a little scheme stored away in the backs of our minds since we got back from our ride across the continent.  It occurred to me that we might just be able to ride our bikes out to Strathgordon and back. When I heard that the Lake Pedder Lodge in Strathgordon, which had been closed for some time, had re-opened as the Pedder Wilderness Chalet the idea started to grow wings. It occurred to me that the Chalet must have a freight service that brings supplies out to them. Di thought this sounded like a great scheme, so I called them and discovered that at least the logistics were feasible. Whether we would be fit enough was another question. This undertaking would involve back to back days longer and harder than any single day we did when we rode from Perth to Melbourne, and the longest single day's ride we've done since we rode around Port Phillip Bay about 15 years ago.

Our cycling has taken somewhat of a back seat over the past few months. You might say we've been leading a more balanced life style - something more approaching "normal" for a couple of our advanced years. Consequently our level of fitness for longer rides has dropped off a bit. However, a window of wonderful weather suddenly appeared this week. In fact it looked so good that our friend Phil, who lives across the road and is a lover of wandering about the wilderness, set off into the southwest for a bushwalking traverse of the Frankland Range.

Given that such a great sequence of weather was about to start, we decided to go ahead and give the trip a shot. One never knows when a few days of rock solid weather is going to occur in southwest Tasmania, and we've got a number of commitments later in the summer. And, although we haven't been riding quite as much recently, we have been doing some specific training to try to improve our ability to ride up hills, and faster for longer. As you will see, this trip would certainly test the effectiveness of that training. Here's a map that shows the relative positions of our home town of Hobart and Strathgordon to the west ...

Strathgordon and Hobart

It just occurred to me that it might be useful to include an overview map of Tasmania for those of you not familiar with the geography of our wonderful island ...

Overview of Tasmania


Everything organised, we set off early Wednesday morning. Here's a selfie I took outside our front gate ...

Ready or not ...

Hobart to Maydena

Conditions were just about perfect as we set off. It was about 15 degrees with virtually no wind - a rarity for Hobart - and an overcast sky meant that we weren't getting too much sun too early. We deliberately paced ourselves knowing that we had a long haul ahead of us. Normally if we're doing a ride up the Derwent Valley we rest and coffee up in New Norfolk, a distance of just under 40 kilometres from home, but we decided to forego that stop this time with the intention of stopping in Westerway at the Possum Shed

One of the things that really appealed about this ride is the changing scenery. Cycling out of the city, along the Derwent Estuary as far as New Norfolk, through farming country up the river proper as far as Bushy Park and on into the Southwest Wilderness would be a great journey. We were on into the stretch between New Norfolk And Bushy Park when I spotted a donkey giving itself a good little scratch, so I paused for a photo. By the time I got the camera out he'd stopped chewing his butt but I took its picture anyway ...

What are you looking at?
The next landmark along our route was the road junction at Bush Park ...

Bushy Park junction
(Note: Lake Pedder and Strathgordon are interchangeable - basically they are the same place.) By this time we'd come about 56 kilometres and were cruising along nicely, but looking forward to a bit of a break at Westerway and anticipating a nice coffee when we arrived at the road junction that marks the entrance to town ...

Arriving at Westerway

We were slightly nonplussed to ride up to the café and see that it was closed. Thinking that perhaps it might be about to open I doubled back to check the operating hours. It should have been open 15 minutes early but there was no sign of life so on we went. National Park, where we hadn't intended to stop was only a further 7 kilometres up the road, which wasn't too bad. It had cleared right up to a beautiful sunny day by now and we were getting to the end of our water.

After coffee and a light snack it was back on the bikes and on towards Maydena, the last outpost of civilisation before - hopefully - arriving at Strathgordon ...

Maydena beckons

We had each only filled one bottle at National Park, as we knew we'd want to stop briefly at Maydena to catch our breath before the more challenging riding began. We were still feeling pretty comfortable, which was a very good thing. The sign leaving National Park is slightly out, with the distance to Maydena slightly more than indicated and the distance to Strathgordon slightly less. It was just on 90 kilometres from home to Maydena, with a further 72 kilometres to Strathgordon. 

Maydena to Strathgordon

Here's the route between Maydena and Strathgordon, with a cross section below ...

Maydena to Strathgordon
As you can see, there is not a lot of flat ground. If you're looking at the blog on a desktop computer you would be able to see the data for the cross section. If not, here's a bit of info on the climbing for this section of the ride:
  • distance: 72 kilometres
  • elevation gain: 1695 metres
  • average slope: somewhere around 4%
  • maximum slope: 15.8% (I think that's wrong: it's more like 12%
In this 72 kilometres of cycling we climbed about two and a half times what we did in the 90 kilometres to Maydena, and it actually took about 15 minutes longer.

Here is a photo I took while waiting for Di at the high point of the road ...

All downhill from here? Not likely!
There is a walking track up to the Needles from this point ...

The Needles

... and the riding further along the road was pretty scenic ...

On into the heart of Southwest Tasmania
... but we weren't getting off the bike much to take pictures as we didn't want to lose any precious momentum before the next hill!

With about 20 kilometres to go we reached the shore of Lake Pedder and figured that it would be relatively flat riding the rest of the way. Of course, the term"relatively flat" has got its own meaning in the context of Tasmanian cycling, and this proved no exception. At about the 10 kilometre to go mark we found ourselves struggling up this last sharp little hill ...

A nice little surprise
Maybe it was karma for hanging in there but, just after descending that hill, a clutch of Yellow-tailed Black Cockatoos - our favourite birds - flew overhead, greeting us with their own peculiarly endearing call. 

Weary, but with our spirits lifted, we pedalled the remaining eight kilometres to our destination ...

We made it!
Di said her legs were a little wobbly getting off the bike for the final time, hence the title of this post.

Here's a snapshot of the computer showing our distance covered ...

Outward distance

... and another showing total elevation gained ...

Outward elevation gain

Some food and hydration was our first priority. We each had a large Boag's Draught while we waited for some fries to arrive ...

Di, resting her eyes?

The view out the wall-to-wall picture window was pretty good ...

Isn't it nice just looking!
While we were having our refreshments a small flock of Green Rosellas arrived outside the window, delighting us with their flashing blue wings, but didn't settle in one place long enough to give me a chance at a photo. For those of you not familiar with these gorgeous birds, which are Australia's largest rosella, here is a nice little video from YouTube shot in central north-central Tasmania at the Trowanna Wildlife Park.


The return journey

We couldn't head home the following day quite as early as we'd set out from Hobart due to having to wait for the kitchen to start up. Nonetheless we did get away fairly promptly. A gentle warm up for 10 kilometres and then getting most of the hills out of the way - and all the really hard ones -  by about the 60 kilometre mark was a major bonus on the way back.

Before we got to Maydena though we passed a couple of cycle tourists on their way into the wilds. Well, one at least. Just starting up the first real hill after Maydena was a young woman with a fully laden touring bike. A little closer to the township was another heavily laden bike laying on its side. I reckon the young woman's cycling companion was in the bushes offloading a bit of unwanted weight: a good idea, considering what lay ahead. Anyway, if you think our ride is notable, we think it's nothing compared to what these folks riding with all their gear are doing.

Given that we were really focussed on maintaining momentum and getting home, we didn't stop to take a lot of photos on the return journey. Once we had coasted into Maydena and had a good rest we were pretty confident that we would make it home. Although there was still 90 kilometres of riding ahead, we knew that we'd done the great bulk of the climbing - and all the nasty stuff. On top of the previous day we were starting to feel a little weary so after the short climb out of Maydena the gentle downhill to Westerway for more 15 kilometres was brilliant. Very pleasant riding it is too, following the Tyenna River on its descent to join the Derwent.

Of course there had to be a fly in the ointment. We expected that there would be some sea breeze as we neared Hobart but found we were bashing into an increasingly stiff - and hot - headwind with about 50 kilometres to go. By the time we collapsed into the café at New Norfolk flags were whipping in the breeze. We both opted for a pastry and an extra large iced coffee and watched as the wind blew stuff around. 

The wind was showing no sign of dropping so we girded our loins, got back in the saddle and headed off for the last 40 kilometres home. We put our heads down and got into survival mode. ( By the time we got home we discovered that we'd been contending with winds of between 20 - 25 kilometres per hour, gusting to 35.) It was a slog and we stopped with about 20 kilometres to go to have a gel and a bit of a breather.

The great thing about the finish to this ride was that we knew we only had one real hill left once New Norfolk was behind us; it just happened to be right at the end. In the last couple of kilometres we climb from sea level up to about 110 metres. It was great to  finally get off the bikes and into a shower. Here's the distance and elevation gain for the day's ride ...

Homeward distance

Homeward elevation gain
The discrepancy between outward and homeward distances is that we didn't detour into National Park on the way back. Despite the return journey being slightly downhill our average speed was almost exactly the same as the outward, no doubt due to two factors: the first being fatigue from the day before and secondly the headwind in the last part. 

It's now the day after and we both feel that we've pulled up fairly well from our two longest consecutive days of cycling ever, especially considering that we were probably a little underdone in terms of fitness. After over 320 kilometres and 4500 metres of climbing we feel like we deserve a bit of a rest. We've been out for a stroll to stretch the legs but that will probably do for the day. It looks like being fine again tomorrow so it would be good to get out for a gentle spin somewhere.

Phil hasn't returned yet from his traverse of the Frankland Range. No doubt he will be having a magic time. Remarkably the weather is still immaculate  out that way and is expected to continue that way tomorrow. It will be good to hear about his trip when he gets back. 

Friday 27 November 2015

Answering the Call

We have been hanging out to get on our bikes this week but either the weather wasn't that peachy or there were other things we had to do. Tuesday would have been a good day, but I had an offer to go climbing and Di really wanted to do a gym class so we missed the best opportunity since getting back from Cradle Mountain on Sunday.

This morning didn't look great, with blustery wind and intermittent showers falling. The forecast suggested things would improve slightly this afternoon and we were pretty keen to get out so got our gear on and set off mid afternoon. It was a toss-up whether to go out and do some sprint training or see if we could ride up kunanyi/Mount Wellington. The mountain was just too big a lure after recently riding up Mount Buffalo in Victoria. We knew it was going to be pretty cool by the time we reached the summit so we dressed warmly and took an extra top to put on for the descent.

It has been a long time since we've ridden to the summit of our beautiful mountain. According to this site, the ride up Mt Wellington is the fourth hardest "hors catégorie" climb in Australia. (An hors catégorie climb is one where the product of the length of the climb (in metres) times the average gradient yields a product of 80,000 or more.) To ride up Mt Wellington from our place requires us to descend about 80 metres over a distance of a kilometre or so then climb about 1250 metres over a distance of about 21 kilometres, with an average gradient of just under 6%. The first half of the route is at a fairly moderate gradient, with the last half mostly at about 8 -  9%.

We knew we would be tested. As well as not being as fit as we'd like to be at this stage the conditions were a little worse than we anticipated. The ride proved to be fairly slow but we did reach the top and got an obliging tourist to take our photo ...



Thanks to Google Earth I can share with you a look at the route ...


As you can see it's quite a convoluted route with panoramic views along the way - not that either of us were in any condition to be gazing at the scenery. Maybe next time ... or the time after that ... or ...

We didn't linger at the top. It was sometime between 4:30 and 5:00 p.m. when we got there. This extract from the Bureau of Meteorology's website will show why ...


As you can see, it was both a little chilly and rather windy and there was an ugly looking cloud with rain coming out of it moving towards us, so down the mountain we went.

It was great to be back on our bikes but we were happy to get into the bath and thaw out once we got home. Maybe next time it'll be a bit warmer!

Sunday 1 November 2015

The Wheel Turns

I'm wondering ...

... if I were I bicycle, would I look like this ...

Time for a rest

Well, do I? No! Don't answer that.

The sustained hot, dry weather in Natimuk has not only taken its toll on this bike. The two of us have started feeling a bit weather-beaten ourselves. We decided a couple of weeks ago that we'd stick around for the Nati Frinj Biennale, which has been on this weekend. Had we not made that decision we'd have pulled the pin a week ago when James and Deidre left. It has been so unrelentingly hot this past week that we resorted to starting the day as early as possible, getting something done and then hiding from the heat the rest of the day. As it was, we did manage to get a few things done and are glad we put in the extra week.

Back from the black

One of the areas the most recent fires in the Grampians hit the hardest was the northern section around Mt Stapylton and nearby Summerday Valley, both rock climbing hot spots which also feature spectacular scenery enjoyed by bushwalkers. Parks Victoria have done a great job of getting at least parts of these tracks open again, so we decided that we'd go and have a look at things. There was a strange, spectacular beauty to some of the burnt spaces, but we were most delighted to see the way the environment is regenerating itself. The main part of loop track at Stapylton is still closed by the summit track from the picnic area is open so that's what we did. On the way back down I took a series of photos ...

Shrubs starting to get a foothold
Unlike the plains to the north there have been some reasonable falls of rain in the Grampians. The fires were so hot in places though that many trees - especially smaller ones - were too scorched to recover. We saw many saplings like this one that had splits along the entire length of their stems ...

Sapling split by heat
... bet even here there are signs of new life.

Recent rain has brought out many small flowers ...

Delicately beautiful
Unlike in Summerday Valley, where all the Callitris trees seem to have been obliterated, here at Stapylton there are small, isolated copses where they have survived. The immature cones are so exquisite, somewhat like worked pewter amongst a green spray of needles ...

Callitris microcosm

Although it wasn't much of a day for more panoramic photography Di thought I should record the view across the plains as we descended the track ...

Mt Stapylton and the Wimmera Plains
Over at Summerday Valley, the devastation was a little more stark but even here there is regrowth. This bench that Parks Victoria have left in place makes a fairly poignant picture against the new shoots and leaves behind ...

Bench at Summerday Valley
Enduring memories
Although it will be generations - centuries even - before the Callitris stands regain their niche in this part of the Grampians ecosystem, it won't be much longer before nature restores a more harmonious balance between green and black. It has made a pretty good start ...

Returning the green

The Nati Frinj

I gather the Frinj always kicks off with a parade. But before that, installations around town started popping up. Hammocks were strung along Natimuk Creek and various woollen webs appeared amongst the trees. The most impressive thing though was this massive macrame teapot ...

Lapsang Souchong, anyone?
Here's the handle ...

Get ahold of this baby

... and here's a bit of detail ...



We were curious to see what the parade would foreshadow about the Frinj so we made a point of being there on time to see it. Highly entertaining, somewhat disjointed and full of whimsy are phrases that come to mind. Spiderboy was there ...


... with his little sister in tow ...


This guy's creativity very much took to heart the theme, with the event dubbed the Hay and Thespian Parade  ...


... maybe he was also channelling Mike Law and the 70's climbing scene at Mt Arapiles.

I didn't seen anything on the program about Feudal times but there seemed to be overtones to heraldry, chivalry or whatever present in the parade ...


"Big farming" got a look in ...



The parade had something for just about everyone - and their dog(s) - with plenty of session breaks to take it all in. Here's a bit of the flavour in sound and motion ...


At the café a little later Di was pleased to grab this photo of three young lasses who obviously enjoyed collaborating on their costumes ...



Most of the events at the Frinj are held in venues that will accommodate only a very small audience and because we hadn't booked we missed out on most of the things we were interested in seeing, which was a bit of a let down. On the other hand, it was so hot that we chose to hide out in the cool of the café and pub a fair bit anyway.

Playing away from home

From my point of view, one of the really great things about being away from home is that there are way fewer chores to deal with. The camper is a lot easier to keep tidy than the house and there are no weeds to pull. This means more time for idle indulgence and, occasionally, even a bit of culture. 

To escape the heat one afternoon we went into Horsham to catch an afternoon movie. The person in charge of the Horsham theatre's website had forgotten to refresh the schedule and we unintentionally found ourselves watching The Dressmaker, which was highly entertaining.

Out of desperation I have finally given in to the world of electronic books. Having been holding that world at bay, as I prefer the tactile pleasure of holding a real book rather than a hard-edged electronic device, I found myself stuck in a cryptic crossword rut. Di, having finally finished a Colleen McCulloch mega-series about the Roman Empire and thinking she might sample paper and ink for a change, offered me the use of her iPad and I must admit I quite liked the convenience and have got through a few novels. The most rewarding of these is the History of the Rain by Niall Williams, longlisted for the Man Booker Prize last year.

Crops into hay

The sad inevitability of sustained drought across much of western Victoria this year is that, instead of rich crops of canola, plump pulses and fat heads of wheat filling the fields, most farmers who have enough growth to cut a crop of hay and salvage some income are now undergoing that process. (Many have not even got enough growth to do that.) It must be soul-destroying for them. We've been hearing a lot about it on the radio as we've driving about the place and at times in the camper, as we tend to have ABC radio on quite a lot of the time. Let's hope the next harvest is a good one.

Moving on

Di had decided that she wanted to partake in some yoga that our friend Esther was running early yesterday morning as part of the Frinj. She said it was a great  and would do some yoga regularly if Esther was teaching in Hobart.

I had the chance to do one of my favourite climbs at Arapiles. The Mentz-Tempest guidebook describes it in part thusly: "an unrivalled mega-classic that takes the superb flake-line branching out of Watchtower Crack. The climbing is exceptionally elegant".
Geoff Gledhill had come into town for the Frinj but was keen to do a climb, so we decided to shoot up to the crag early before the flies, heat and other climbers came out to play. We had that part of the cliff entirely to ourselves for most of our climb and only a couple of other parties appeared before we finished.

Having hit a couple of high notes, Di and I were both pretty happy to give the last day of the festival a miss and hit the road, so we packed the camper up early this morning and got underway. Here's roughly the journey we took ...

From Natimuk to Porepunkah
 We're in the Victorian high country now and hope to do a bit of cycling here before continuing further north and east and then back to Melbourne and the ferry home in a week's time. It was almost as if we'd arrived on another planet when we drove into the Ovens River valley, with lush grass growing and clear rivers flowing. And in fact this evening a massive thunderstorm hit just after we got the camper up. Di decided it was prudent to zip up the windows and I wanted to capture the noise of the rain on the roof ...


While the thunderstorm was raging I thought I might catch up on the news and a heading in The Age caught my eye. It was a very good analysis of where Abbott seems to be at in his political career. But what I loved most about it was this fabulous cartoon of Tony Abbott channelling Margaret Thatcher ...




And on that note I bid you adieu for now!

Postscript

Relaxing this afternoon after a ride up Mt Buffalo and back, I came across this fine article in The Age about Malcolm Turnbull abolishing Tony Abbott's foolish faux pas of knights and dames in  and just had to link to it. Here's a little sample of some of the writing: "This was an utterly unforced error - pure dogma which quickly transformed an unpopular leader into something far less viable: a laughing stock". It's a must-read, with an wonderful little animation of Jughead bestowing honours on certain less than wonderful individuals.