Travelling Pathetically - Somewhat Overheated Edition

 Having covered myself in glory or at least sweat on my last endeavour I set out to roam somewhat further afield. This is probably the first and last time you have heard Lindfield referred to as "further afield". Nevertheless it is to that leafy bastion of moderate privilege (rich enough to evade tax but not so rich that the tax office will let you get away with it) that I repaired one sunny Saturday morning. Quite sunny actually, really very, very sunny. Despite threatened solar armageddon I hopped off at Lindfield and headed for my destination. My destination being the start of my walk which was inconveniently located about a kilometre and a half from public transport. As a suburb Lindfield is described as "family friendly" by which I think they mean that domestic violence happens indoors away from the neighbours and the parents discreetly pay their children's drug debts. It is certainly leafy. If you want a decent indicator of the socio-economic status of a suburb all you really have to do is count the number of trees that have been left standing.

I walked down a leafy street, turned into another leafy street, progressed along that street until I encountered another street which was, you guessed it, leafy. Some way along that street the trees grew a little thicker on the ground and I was looking at a park. This was my starting point, I was doing the Two Creeks Walk which started at this park and ended at another about seven kilometres away having, presumably, taken in two creeks on its journey. The actual walk is supposed to be a round trip which results in you winding up back at your starting point. People that keen on seeing Lindfield could achieve the same result by not doing the walk at all.

The start of my journey, behind me is Lindfield in all its glory

 I set forth with what would prove to be utterly misplaced enthusiasm eager to stretch my legs among such remnants of nature as housing developments had left us. Excitement peaked early when one of said remnants slithered sinuously into the bush before my eyes. A black snake, glistening in the sun, decided absence was the better part of valour at my heavy footed approach. I fumbled for my camera but it was gone before I could take a picture. Nevertheless I was delighted, I rarely see snakes and its presence literally two minutes into my walk could indicate a snake heavy journey. Actually I was wrong, I didn't see another snake the entire walk although I spent a good deal of time looking at the ground and not just for photo opportunities.

This is where the snake went. Unfortunately there must have been a rear entrance

Excited and uncharacteristically observant I headed on my way. There were no more snakes but to compensate the walk decided it had better start living up to its name and a creek obediently presented itself for my viewing pleasure. It trickled picturesquely as creeks are wont to do wending its way through and occasionally over rocks. The path followed it down giving me plenty of opportunities to take photos as though I had never seen water before.

 

 

Creek, rocks, sunlight etc etc

While following the creek down probably seemed like a sensible idea at the time the path got into a bit of difficulty when the creek disappeared into a tunnel. With little option the path went with it.

And suddenly underground

Emerging back into the sunlight the path hung around the stream for a little before climbing away. I perforce panted up the path. I was nowhere near satisfied, "two creeks" the trail finder had said. Well I was ready for number two. 

Number two would come in its own sweet time but first I was reintroduced to the sun. It was hot, very hot and rather to my surprise I found myself struggling. Thirty two degrees isn't uncomfortably hot for me or at least it isn't usually. I struggled along. I wasn't out of breath and I wasn't particularly sore or physically tired but the sun was sucking the strength out of me to a level I found genuinely concerning. I was supposed to complete the walk turn around and walk back for fourteen kilometres or so of bushwalk, something normally well within my capacity. As I plodded forward I realised I wasn't going to do it. I wasn't sure if I could do it. I would get to the end and stop. Fortunately being in the suburbs meant that no matter how thick the bush was you generally weren't too far from somewhere you could call an uber.

Less creek, more sun

With my mind obsessed with variations on the theme of "its very hot" I continued my walk. For the look of it I took the occasional photo and reminded myself I was supposed to be enjoying the wonders of nature. I did pause to photograph the Clare McIntyre Memorial Fungus which had somehow survived despite the heat but I have to admit that was largely just to give me an excuse to stop.

The Clare McIntyre Memorial Fungus. Not the most exciting example but I was desperate for a break

Just when I thought I could go on no longer Creek No. 2 appeared and it was a doozy. The Creek I had been following so far was Gordons Creek an acceptable little trickle in its way but now it collided with Middle Harbour Creek which frankly stretched the term "creek" further than the definition really intended.

That it has to be admitted is one hell of a "creek"

The sight of the creek cheered me up immensely because I knew the walk wouldn't just tease me with distant glimpses. At some point I would be down, near water, among shade. I won't say I was reinvigorated but complete physical collapse was definitely staved off.

The same creek but more of it

 With hope soaring (although that was possibly just my body temperature) I strode forth pausing only to take a photo of a bright red dragonfly. I can't explain how delighted I am to see dragonflies. They were a fixture of my childhood and then I went several decades without seeing any at all. Unfortunately they're notoriously difficult to photograph.

This is the best I could do dragonfly wise

I was on the downward slope now. Actually people have been saying that for years but they usually use the term "spiral". The water was coming closer with every eager step. And my steps were eager because as soon as I started heading towards the water I felt absolutely fine. I guess it was a little cooler as I descended but I started thinking well maybe I could do the round trip. Fortunately sanity or whatever passes for it in my mind prevailed.

Even the trees have gone for a swim

Then I was down by the banks of the creek and furthermore there was a tiny beach, a broad sheet of shallow water with little fish frolicing. I tried taking photos but they didn't turn out so well. I paused, regained my breath soaked my shirt in what turned out to be salt water (in case the name Middle Harbour Creek didn't clue you in) and generally took stock, deciding that the walk wasn't too bad after all.

Now that's worth the price of admission

Wet and moderately refreshed I continued along the path now feeling much more positive about things. The tinkling of birdsong stopped me in my tracks. For ages now I have wanted to take a photo of the flighty little finches (or whatever they are) that I frequently encounter on my walks. Unfortunately due to a combination of hamfisted incompetence on my part and the fact that the damn things never stand still for more than a second I haven't been successful. Today would prove no exception. I crept slowly forward my eye on a particular bird with a blue throat that appeared cooperative. Well, it tried. It stayed in one convenient spot for far longer than is usual unfortunately I made such a mess of getting my camera ready that it fluttered off in disgust. This was frustrating but was immediately eased when a massive lizard wandered up the tree behind the birds and was quite happy for its photo to be taken.

Who cares about little birds now

Delighted with my reptilian coup I carried on thinking that I was pretty much done. I had seen a snake, photographed a lizard and somehow survived the first few kilometres of the walk. Then I spotted another large lizard on the path in front of me. I crept forward camera at the ready and just at that moment a trio of young women turned the corner in front me chatting at the tops of their voices and the lizard hared off for a convenient tree. Fortunately it seemed to consider that three feet up a tree constituted perfect safety and I was able to get a couple of shots by carefully circling round said tree until the lizard presented itself.

 

Top half of the lizard, best I could do

I was coming to the end of the walk now. My trail map had shown that a significant road crossed the trail and that seemed like a good spot to flag down an uber. I came to the road. Please examine the photo below and see if you can see the fatal flaw in my plan.

 

A slightly inconvenient road

Fortunately the walk ended in a park with a slightly more accessible road beside it. I was somewhat annoyed and slightly ashamed that I hadn't managed to do my original plan of a round trip but obviously not so ashamed that I didn't plaster my humiliation all over the internet. After all I had lizard photos to flaunt.

Corpses and CanCon

 Well that time of year has come and gone once again. The time when I foist myself on those of my acquaintances too soft hearted to hurl me from a moving vehicle and journey to my nation's capital for three days trapped in an over enthusiastic aircraft hanger to play ASL while people in black t-shirts and elf ears mill frantically around me. I had booked a hotel in the very centre of Canberra. You can tell its the very centre because the buildings are slightly closer together.

I and like minded others* had gathered for CanCon which over the last few years has provided a stable backdrop while my psyche has been lacerated and any self confidence I might have possessed is systematically destroyed. It says more about me than I like to admit that I actually look forward to this. Does anybody want to buy a second hand gimp mask?

But first the journey. It is said that it is better to travel hopefully than to arrive. This is doubly true when you're traveling to Canberra. I met my companions at too early o'clock, leapt into the vehicle and defied all attempts to evict me. So we were off. Conversation was light, I kept dozing off so I was continually waking up to snippets of conversation like "I'm sure we could get away with it," and "we could just say he was dead when we found him." While I snoozed and my companions plotted the southern suburbs of Sydney slid past, most of them blessedly concealed by the motorway's privacy barrier and soon we were in the southern highlands.

The southern highlands are where people farm, culture viti and build very expensive homes approximately an hour's drive from their other expensive homes in the city. The only time I was there I almost died of the cold so I was quite pleased when the rugged hills gave way to flattish farming country. We stopped off at Goulburn for lunch and second hand book shopping. Goulburn is most famous for the super max prison which lurks on its outskirts like an abandoned relative. Fortunately we left before any of the wardens recognised me. 

We arrived in Canberra in time to do something. So we went to the War Memorial. Given our brief history as a nation Australia has been involved in a disturbing number of wars. Inside are galleries dedicated to the various campaigns in which my fellow countrymen gave their lives and outside are some very large and photogenic visual reminders. There's an ASLAV, a helicopter, an F-111 and sundry other large chunks of superannuated military hardware. Inside was the beloved L3 which I visit every time I come here.

Three days later we sneaked past the three headed dog that guards the entrance to Canberra and fled for home. The journey was fascinating although if you were a child quite possibly traumatic. We hadn't got far out of Canberra when something large and grey loomed up on the road. It was the corpse of a dead kangaroo that obviously hadn't looked both ways before attempting to cross the road. It looked big enough to do significant damage to whatever hit it. That was only the start. From then on the vast panoply of Australia's wildlife was laid out before me in roadkill form. I counted six kangaroos, three foxes, a couple of wallabies, what was either a possum or a small child in a fur coat and a number of other things which defied identification but were definitely biological in origin. 

One of my traveling companions noted that decent rain over the last couple of years in the region had lead to an explosion of animal life, thus explaining the carnage before us. Based on the evidence presented it looked more like the rain had led to an explosion of animal death. The only time I have seen more road kill was on a trip to Tasmania a night drive in which is like driving through an extended tray of pet food. We stopped for coffee and doughnuts midway through the slaughterhouse. The corpses tapered off as we closed on Sydney though. Sydney is a well run, organised city and the only acceptable dead things to have lying by the side of the road are e-bike riders and careless pedestrians.

For those of you who have suffered through the above to find out how I went in CanCon please see below. After two years without a victory I sacrificed an especially big goat (I found it by the side of the road) and turned up on the first day with a wholly unjustified sense of optimism. Names of opponents will be provided when remembered. Sometimes I was crying too hard to focus.

Day 1

First up was Takin' Eibertingen which pitted some Americans suffering from ammunition shortage attempting to push Germans (suffering from a lack of numbers and incompetent leadership) out of said village. My opponent Bruce Probst had the Americans and lined them all up in a gully spearheaded by a Sherman tank. My defenders had a single immobilised StuG. The comments of the crew of said StuG when they saw half the US army coming towards them have fortunately not been recorded. Figuring (accurately) I would only get one shot I bided my time and successfully took out a Sherman in defensive fire. Not to be outdone Bruce then took out the StuG in advancing fire at three hex range. Slowed rather than stopped the Americans surged towards the village. I clung on desperately aided by some decent dice but finally a part of my defence gave way and the Americans flooded through. I had a late moment of hope when my one surviving squad took out his other tank leaving Bruce trembling one point short of the American CVP cap but in the end the Americans had loads of firepower and only one target.

Second was Ghostbusters which pitted my Germans of the 7th Panzer against Adam Lunney's French equipped with gun mounted trucks (and some other stuff). The Germans have to cross ground and get a certain number of CVP into the victory area to the rear. Other German players went hard for one flank or another (which might be why they won) I sneered at such delicacy and threw the bulk of my force straight up the middle using tanks to freeze defenders and bludgeoning my way past. Flank protection is for losers. I got my vehicles into the victory location, enough to win the game. Unfortunately those flanks I had been ignoring snapped shut behind me and at the end of the game I had very few vehicles in the victory area. It turns out flank protection is for winners after all.

Day 2 

Despite the results I wasn't too downcast by the first day's failures. I had come quite close in both and I am a definite believer in near enough being good enough. Firstly I faced Luke Dibben in Start Fall Gelb. I had the Belgians (yes I did bid for them simply because I wanted to play with their dinky little tanks) and set up a defence to protect yet another village from the ravening hordes. I had a few speed bump units up front, the world's most useless mortar nestled out of the way where the crew couldn't hurt themselves and set up to defend the village to the last. Coming my way were a horde of Germans backed by a pair of PzIIs. Luke spent the first turn sorting his troops out rather than plunging forward with reckless abandon and that was pretty much the difference. Once organised the Germans came on hard with the panzers spraying automatic fire over anything that looked even slightly threatening (and the Belgians only look slightly threatening). I traded corpses for time and my morale was boosted when Luke broke the MA on PzII and it fled for the rear just as my T-15s with their mighty 12.7mm arrived. Rather to my surprise one of these did blow up his remaining Mark II although the other succumbed to close combat. Luke made a desperate lunge towards the end resulting in most of both surviving OBs being tied up in close combat. However one of my squads still had eyes on the victory hex which was enough to give me the win. 

Second scenario of the day was To Have and to Hold which pitted a half dozen jeep mounted US half squads against a handful of distinctly sub par Germans. Backing up the jeeps are a trio of M8 armoured cars while the laughably pathetic on board German force is reinforced with a pair of StuGs and a bunch more squads. I have to apologise to my opponent (I think it was Tim Reade) for being the whiny, snivelling little bitch that I was. The truth was I didn't much like this scenario. The Americans came on, wiped out my on board defences at virtually no cost to themselves then took up positions where they could cheerfully slaughter my reinforcements. Others played it better and had a lot of fun but for two turns I did literally nothing while I watched him set up ambushes for my reinforcements. Casualties to the Americans, one broken half squad and one immobilised jeep.

Day 3 (pre roadkill)

Mindful that I had to leave Canberra that day I selected the smaller of the two scenarios on offer, Block at Anui which was partly designed by Dave Wilson my regular opponent. Well damn if he doesn't owe me a favour or two. This is a Korean War scenario with me taking the North Koreans attempting to push my opponent's Americans out of a pair of buildings to win the game. In addition to some eager soldiers I had a T34/85 tank and a pair of demo charges that could be used to make DC heroes. The Japanese occupation of Korea may have been brutal but it was obviously also a learning experience. I split my force in two sending one bunch ploughing through the forest to occupy American defenders while the tank and my elite troops sneaked along the board edge trying to go for the victory buildings. This all worked about as well as you might expect if you have been following any of my other AARs to date. In the first part of the game my opponents dice were hot and my forest rangers who were supposed to occupy the Americans could only follow lamely in their wake as they fled for the victory buildings. My elite troops and tank made it to the outskirts of the victory area and there they stopped for a good couple of turns, unable to go forward or back. Then the dice turned. And suddenly my plan was working. A DC hero strolled through a barrage of fire to blow up one group of defenders, the tank scored a critical hit on another and my foresters emerged from the trees with blood in their eyes (damn spiky branches). Sandwiched between two murderous and, more importantly, lucky fires my opponent watched his forces melt away until he gave the concession while there were still a few lives left to be saved. Incidentally I'm saying "my opponent" because to my shame I can't recall his name.He was a gentleman from Perth who was generous in sharing his mints and took the sudden reversal of fortune with a good nature that would be an example to me if I was capable of learning from such.

So two wins and three losses. Best CanCon result in years. I would have been unbearable in the car going home if I hadn't been busy counting roadkill. Many thanks to Andy Rogers who organises both tournament and dinner and who somehow manages to keep a smile on his face. Thanks also to Mark who gave me a lift and to Dave who didn't help Mark throw me from the car.

* "others" have urgently requested that I point out they are in no way like minded with me