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Monday, April 25, 2016

Trail Walking and Witch Spotting

T is for Trail Walking

Lately, every time I look in the mirror, I see a spongy silhouette of cottage cheese staring back at me in bulgy-eyed confusion. “How did this happen?” the face in the mirror implores. “Why?”

I suggested to Scotto that we should attempt the infamous “Witches Falls” circuit trail walk on Sunday afternoon in order to burn off some excess calories.

The trail is only 3.2 kilometres long BUT, the final 1.7 kilometres are up hill and I thought it might sort out whether or not I have blocked arteries and angina or not.

(As it turned out, I wheezed and coughed on the way back up, but there was no chest/jaw pain and I recovered from my puffing after a minute or two so I must be in moderate health at least.
That’s my medical check for the year done anyway.)

After walking for a kilometre or so, stressing about what would happen if one of us was bitten by a snake or twisted our ankle and the logistics of seeking out critical assistance, it dawned on me that the bloody highway was a mere three metres above us and that if we needed urgent medical help, we pretty much just had to hop over a fence. The aroma of families cooking sausages in the parkland directly above should have alerted me earlier.

It was a walk of delicious spicy smells and cool breezes; majestic trees, a litter of leaves and juicy, green moss.

Can you spot any witches?

“How much further to go?” I whined to some returning, energetic kids as we picked our way down to the waterfall.

“Not much further!” they replied cheerily.

It struck me that I’d done the reverse of the, “Are we nearly there?” that kids are famous for.

They lied of course, just like we do to them. Bastards.

But shortly after that, the trail took us even deeper into the rainforest and I began to fear for my life.

It began to rain.

I remembered the sign at the top of the trail stating, “Do not attempt trail in wet weather”. There was something about potential, unstable landslides… I think.

I thought my main concern on the walk would be looking out for errant witches lurking behind trees, but no, it was a fear of slipping down a greasy slope and toppling over a 552 metre cliff that had me in its grasp.

This must be what the witch cooks for her dinner.

I probably would have been thrilled to see a witch at that stage, actually. We were very alone in the forest as no doubt other more canny walkers had finished the walk BEFORE the rain set in.

“Well, this is a bit crap,” I complained to Scotto when we finally reached the falls. “All that climbing for this pathetic puddle? What a bloody rip off! Plus, I haven't seen a single damn witch!”

Hmmmf! Witches Puddle more like it!

“Keep going, Pinky,” Scotto replied with a patient sigh. “That’s not the waterfall.”

We went around a bend and I spotted the real lookout.

Sorry about the slack photograph but I was too scared to walk out on the platform because… it was like looking down the Moon Door on Game of Thrones.

Which leads me to the true purpose of this post.

Who is excited that Game of Thrones Season Six starts tonight? Blearrrrrggghhhhh!