Werribee Gorge, Victoria. Ingliston Gorge. August 2011

A couple of things to start of with. Have you ever been walking amongst people and you hear a snippet of conversation, but think to yourself, "I think there's more to that and I'd love to hear it?" I had that recently whilst walking in the city and as I passed two women talking I heard one of them say in disgust, "I don't know what's wrong with her, it's only her husband that died." That was it and besides the chuckle to myself I thought it was worthy enough to start off this blog entry.

Oh yeah, the other thing I wanted to mention is that I had a bit of trauma with the headline to this blog as there seemed to be way to many 'gorges' in the one sentence. I like to break words up a little so you don't see them over and over again. but what can you do when that's the name of the place?They obviously didn't think of me when they named the park as they'd know I'd have a problem with the name. Gee, this blogging business can be tough at times. I guess there are other issues that are worse than the word 'gorge' appearing too often? World hunger is one thing that comes to mind I suppose.

Anyway, here I was on a recovery walk after a week in which I suffered an annoying head cold. I had an idea to go for a long walk, but decided I was kidding myself. Take it easy I thought, so I picked out another walk in the Werribee Gorge State Park which I hadn't completed before. In fact there's only one other walk in that park that I haven't been to. Once that's done I can leave the park for the time being and head somewhere else. This walk is short, so I thought it would be a good chance to try putting a light pack on. I haven't worn a pack on my walks since my neck/disc drama, so this was a big step. I picked out a small camera backpack and loaded it with a few basics to put some weight in it. Spare camera lens, GPS, beacon, headlamp, knife and a box of 24 condoms. One never knows how many hot hikers are out on the trail, so it pays to take the party pack. Remember, 'if it ain't on, it ain't on'.

This walk is tucked away in an area of the Werribee Gorge which is not visited as frequently and that suited me fine on a sunny Sunday. Walking amongst crowds defeats the purpose of hiking for me and as I drove to the walk I passed the carpark for the track to Falcons Lookout which I'd been to earlier in the year. I was a little gobsmacked to see about 20 cars parked all over the place including a line along the road. That walk with that amount of people would have been like 'Lord of the Flies' with full on fights to get a bit of track without stepping on someone else. I continued on to the carpark I needed and was pleased to see just a solitary car already there which meant I should have a quiet walk.

I stepped out the car to be greeted with the sounds of the Australian bush. A combination of screeching cockatoos and the dulcet tone of multiple motorbikes. Just as a final little kicker I noted they were two-strokes as well which is the recipe for one of the most offensive noises known to mankind. They were somewhere in the vicinity, but I couldn't see them which was a bonus, but the sound was brutal. I noted that I was clenching my teeth and the effect it has on me is the equivalent of someone scraping not just ten fingernails down a blackboard, but their toenails at the same time. A cacophony of screeching nails which make my teeth grind.

Then again a more realistic example of the annoying pain would be if I was ironing whilst standing in a barrel of water with battery jumper cables clamped on my nipples and then being struck by lightning on the top of my head. The pain that would cause is similar to what I felt listening to those motorbikes. Mm... Werribee Gorge might be 360 million years old, but suburbia is rapidly approaching and this was a prime example of it. I think I need a photo to relax with...

That's better. I nice relaxing rock bathed in filtered sunlight to take my mind off that noise. The walk starts of fairly simply with a stroll along an old vehicle track before turning off to descend on a narrow path to an area called 'Sloss's Gully'. Now, I had the ultimate sight gag which involved a 'publication' I have which would be used in conjunction with 'Sloss's'. The trouble is, do you think I could find the 'publication' which was vital for the joke to work?  I turned my house upside down looking for it, but it's still missing. This means for the time being one of the world's greatest jokes will not be seen or written. If I find it I can return to the spot, but without it the gag would be useless. Now that's trauma and it's taken some time to write this up because guess what? Yes, I was turning the house inside out looking for the vital 'publication'.

Anyway, the picture below is a view of the 'Sloss' and it's a fairly standard stroll amongst the odd fallen tree to negotiate.

Sloss's Gully

Now, this walk through the gully isn't very awe inspiring is it? No photos leapt out at me when I took them off the camera. So, I thought I'd spend a minute writing some rubbish to wake you up and what better way than a few paragraphs of rambling? I noticed in hiking blogs there's not a lot of skin on display so I thought I'd bring 'sexy back to hiking'. What better way than a random shot of my naked lower leg?

Mid 1970's lino modelled by an ugg boot with something hanging out of it...

Trust me, you'll have to hang in there over the next few paragraphs in order for all of this to make sense. How did you go with the photo? Feeling steamy yet? Does the stylish footwear fire you up a little? If not, maybe you're feeling a little queasy instead?! I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I've got fairly large calf muscles. I've started my attempt at walking 1000 miles over the next year and it's a chance to get a bit fitter. Now, I have a strange build in that no one remotely believes the weight I actually am. The last time I weighed under 100 kgs was in 1999 and the only reason that happened was because I was dying from a burst appendix. Seven days in hospital would drop anyone's weight and I managed to bottom out at 98 kgs. As a result when people saw me they would look horrified and say, "Oh my god, you're so thin!! You look terrible!!!" I thought I was down to a good weight, but apparently I look silly when I'm just a shade under a light year away from my ideal Body Mass Index (BMI).

1999 - New Zealand bungee...

I went to New Zealand in 1999 for a skiing holiday which was about six months after the 'AppendixFiasco.com'. Somehow I got roped into doing a bungee jump (yeah, okay, I was drunk), but doing the jump is not the story although I wouldn't recommend the leap. It had the sort of feeling where you feel like you're about to commit suicide, but you don't really want to. Anyway, I was weighed before the jump so the cord can be adjusted to the right length, which I think is important as I didn't want to face plant at terminal velocity. The funky, groovy bungee bloke weighed me and with a puzzled look on his funky face said, "Mm... There's something wrong here, you don't weigh that much." I asked him how much and he replied, "110 kgs". I assured him that was the correct weight to which he replied, "No, you don't weigh 110". Okay I thought, let's do it again and on I hopped with the same reading. Still perplexed he got me to get off and believe it or not, but he weighed me a third time with the constant 110 kgs popping up.

The result of all this is that somewhere I conceal my weight well, although being 6'' 3' helps a little. I've been called a 'mountain man' before and even, "Hey, you're bear-like!" I guess I've got the pick-handle shoulders and I know what you're thinking, so I'll clear this up now. Being 'bear-like' doesn't mean I'm a furball with a complete bear pelt of hair on my back. Remember, I'm the most hairless person with European heritage I know and the only way I could have hair on my chest is if I invest in a chest wig which I don't see in shops too often.

Back to the hike and there were a number of trees with sap oozing out that was very colourful in the sunlight.

Now, back to the important stuff which is where's this weight hidden? Well, that's where the photo of my leg comes back into the story. I think most of it is in my legs as extra training doesn't make them slimmer, but the opposite which is freakishly large. I could be a wrestler with the name, 'The Calf Killer' although it sounds like I'm into animal mutilation a little. I would be pretty fearsome doing the 'figure four leg lock' though. Anyway, this extreme weight probably explains why my hiking style is similar to a diesel locomotive. I get up to speed and generally stay at the same pace from the start of the day walking to the end. Now, walking 1000 miles should bring me down to 100 kgs shouldn't it? This is all part of the years test. Oh yeah, for any of you freaks out there wondering, I can assure you that the weight I carry around has nothing to do with what I'm packing in my boxer shorts. I thought I should clear that up.

The walk continued along Sloss's Gully before heading back uphill until it met a large open area. I thought it was an old vehicle track I had reached until I realised I was at a cleared area due to a gas pipeline underneath me. The gas line wasn't turning me on much and neither did a sign nearby warning me that there were bee hives in the area. Okay, time to move on. I crossed onto the next section of track that went through some undulating country before following a ridgeline. The views were okay along the way at this point.

There were lots of colourful yellow wattle trees which made for an enjoyable part of the walk. Yeah okay, I could still hear the motorbikes at times, but overall it wasn't too bad. With the sun shining what else is there to do other than give the polarizer a run?!

The track continues to wind along until it reaches a clearing which gives a nice view of Ingliston Gorge. The only trouble is to view it I had to look directly in the sun which killed my photo opportunities, but here's the best you're going to get.

Ingliston Gorge

As you can see I was facing 'glare central' and with the light flaring through the top right there's much I can say other than it's not sunlight, but some sort of alien occurrence which wasn't there at the time and only showed up when I downloaded the photo. Is that believable? It was a good spot to look out across the gorge, but one had to be careful as there was quite a sheer cliff which I didn't take notice of at first.

What's this? A bit of a cliff?

Umm... Yes it is...

It was at this point that a couple came by and they'd be the only people I'd see for the day. The thing is I'd see them about another 20 times before the end of the walk as they remained only a short distance in front of me.

The track now began a fairly deep descent to Whitehorse Creek which I then had to follow. I was expecting a few more thrills as there had been a bit of rain in Melbourne during the previous week, but upon reaching the creek I found it surprisingly bone-dry.

Whitehorse Creek

I now had a kilometre or so of stumbling up the creek bed to contend with. It was quite easy due to being dry, but I can imagine the walk would be a different proposition if the creek was running.

I was keeping my eye out for some interesting objects to do some close up photography. The only thing I found that was a little different were the finest of cobwebs and it was quite a task trying to photograph one. I was trying to get on the right angle so the sunlight was shining off it and even that was a bit of a challenge and this is about the best I could do.

As you can see, after I spent a decade trying to get a shot of this cobweb it's still barely visible. Mind you it was pretty tiny and it couldn't have been more than a few inches across. I thought I should look for an easier one and a short distance away I found a few between the rocks. This was a much simpler assignment.

I didn't see any spiders though, but maybe my big head looming over their webs sent them running for cover. The creek continued on with the odd gorge 'furniture' to negotiate which consisted of fallen trees and stumps.

I guess also if someone is going to mark the way by putting tape on trees then they might as well use some love hearts shouldn't they?

Overall this walk was quite well marked and there's enough orange Parks Victoria triangles affixed to trees to keep one heading in the right direction. I did notice some 'ye olde' style markings of trees having arrows gouged into them. It's great that times have changed and they're no longer leaving trees looking like this...

It's fairly rugged country though and I was careful with my steps as I was aiming for a 'non-fall' walk which might be a first. Near the creek bed I found the remains of a few hikers who didn't make it out of the gorge alive. They were possibly victims of the Yowies who roam this area or maybe they were run over by a motorbike?

Hiker bones

As I continued on I did find a little bit of water in the creek, but it was quite stagnant so I gave it a wide berth.

I headed out of the creek and followed an overgrown trail nearby, but it was still easy enough to find my way through it.

I was quite enjoying this little walk, but suddenly I came to a sign telling me that the path leaves the creek and the carpark was only 650 metres away. What?! It seemed so isolated, but the walk was already just about done. Oh well, I followed the track that slowly began to wind its way up the hill away from Whitehorse Creek.

The track leading away from the creek...

I was on the look out for some more photos on the final climb back to the car park. The trouble is it was so short there wasn't much to look for other than the odd leaf. Anyone who has read this blog before knows how much I like a good leaf!

Well, that was it as I successfully returned to my car and looked at the statistics of the walk. It wasn't really the longest distance I'd covered when I checked the mileage. In fact when I looked at my iPhone 'Walkmeter' app it said, '4.85 km'. It felt like a longer walk than that and I now know the confusion the funky bungee bloke felt as I rechecked the GPS a couple of times. "It must have been longer than that?" It was a little laughable, but I think the cold from the previous week had sapped my energy a little (I think or I could be insanely unfit).

Anyway, I was also carrying my Garmin GPS to cross-reference against the 'Walkmeter' and I can confidently say after quite a few comparisons that the app's method of measuring ascent/descent seems to be bonkers. The 'Walkmeter' was telling me that I'd only ascended 43 metres for the day which I just knew was incorrect! The GPS was more realistic in revealing that it was actually 215 metres. That's more like it!  t seems the app is more or less spot on with distance as it's matched the GPS on other occasions, but it's the other stuff that's a bit 'out there'. Still it's a great little thing to play with for only $5 and it's perfect for using for my 1000 mile challenge.

So, here's a link to the walk I did.

 http://j.mp/pXzntk

Well, it was time to head off, but do you think that's it for this mammoth entry? Did I just answer that? On the drive back I've always noticed a trig point on what looks like a man made hill a short distance outside the park. On top of this hill there are expansive views across towards Melbourne and I've thought about stopping before to have a look, but most times I've just looked at the trig point and actually put my foot down instead of stopping. This time I was fired up to stop, climb it and see if the view is actually any good after all.

It was all going to plan, but I noted as I approached the trig point on loose scree style rubble that appears to have been piled up by a bulldozer, that I was actually facing my steepest climb for the day.

The rubble summit looms...

I managed to clamber up in one piece and the view wasn't too bad if one could ignore standing amongst lots of prickly weeds. I could see a fair way on such a clear sunny day as this one.

Upon the summit...

I did get to the trig point itself for a closer look and of course I captured it for all you people who get a kick out of such things (is that me?!)

Did you think that's it for this entry? Well, almost, but there's one final thing. It wasn't the most relaxing time upon my summit as there's a problem of a railway line about 10 feet away, which makes feel like it's not the remotest of places. Don't worry though, I was thinking of all the hikers/trainspotters out there and I managed to capture the 4.08 pm from Southern Cross Station to Ballarat. Don't ever think I'm not catering to all sorts of tastes in this blog.

Where is it?

 A nice view of the 4.08 from my summit...

Okay, that's it then and I think this entry had it all. Trains, trees and last, but not least a bit of sexy coming back into hiking with a random skin shot. Oh yeah, there was a piddly little walk as well which was the main idea to start off with...

1000 Mile Challenge...

Split Point Lighthouse, Victoria

You can ignore the photo above if you want as I've only included it as a bit of eye candy whilst I tap out a quick entry.  he picture does remind me though that I was pretty lucky to stop at the Split Point Lighthouse on the way back from the Kalimna Falls hike near Aireys Inlet along the Great Ocean Road in Victoria. I stopped hoping to see a sunset, but instead I got these fantastic rainbows and it's a perfect background for someone who has a lighthouse fetish (that's me by the way).

Anyway, I came across this blog which has this unusual challenge in it.

http://overlyambitiousme.wordpress.com/1000-mile-challenge/

It's a pretty simple concept of doing outdoor stuff with the idea of meeting a target of 1000 miles in a year. If you thought I'm starting a little late, well yes I am a little, but luckily it's judged on the financial year!  The blog entry explains what's eligible as it includes walking, hiking, cycling etc. I won't bang on about it as you can read the rules in the link if you want to.

Why have I decided to do this? I guess it's just a reason to force me to train over a long period of time with some sort of goal in mind. I've found I've got really fit in the past when I've had to train for something in particular. It's a bit hard to fire up sometimes when it's exercise just for the hell of it and with the whole neck/disc thing going on I was becoming very sloth-like. So, I thought I should give it a go even though 'miles' don't mean anything to me. I remember the last time I worked things out in miles was roughly 1972. Metric is so much easier and it would be a lot more casual if the target was 1000 kms instead of miles! I'll have to pull the finger out though as the distances I've covered so far are pretty embarrassing, but with summer coming up and a stack of day walks on the horizon I should be picking up the mileage...

Let's have some more of the Split Point Lighthouse...

I don't think I can have any more ailments for the time being as I've just got over a head cold. I ended up doing a short hike today to get in the swing of it again, but the word 'short' is an understatement. I don't usually use the abbreviation 'lol' as when I see it written I imagine the person writing it is sitting in a chair, back arched with head thrown rearwards and with eyes shut whilst they're laughing maniacally. When I looked at the GPS today and saw the distance covered on my 'hike' I adopted the description above, but minus the chair. Anyway, that report is to come during the week...

Oh yeah, I will even be honest in this challenge instead of trying the old, "Hey, I just walked 500 kms this month! I've been so busy!"

George Bass Coastal Walk, Victoria. August 2011

George Bass Coastal Walk

Weekend? Forecast of clear skies and a full moon later that evening meant Ben and I couldn't really waste an opportunity to try and do a walk. I had worked an entire days schedule which consisted of the following. Drive to the vicinity of Phillip Island a couple of hours away from Melbourne and complete the George Bass Coastal Walk, upon finishing go to Phillip Island itself and have the best fish and chips I can remember at a sleepy spot called Rhyll and then take photos of the full moon at a small harbour nearby. Seems an easy plan? Well, it didn't really keep to the script...

The George Bass Coastal Walk follows the coastline near San Remo, Phillip Island to the town of Kilcunda. It's rated as 'easy' which suited my 'neck recovery mode', but unfortunately it was an 'out and back' job. A 7 km walk in which we had to retrace our steps back to the car. That's never been one of my favourite methods of walking, but not having anyone to do a car shuffle with it was the best we could do. I figured we could walk on the beach as much as possible on the way out and come back via the top of the cliffs for a speedy return.

I might throw in the odd photo such as the one above to break up the paragraphs to describe what was going on before we made it to the actual walk. A while ago I bought a Western Mountaineering AlpinLite sleeping bag which I've wanted to try out for a while, but haven't been able to since this prolapsed disc saga. It was going to be cold in Melbourne on the Friday night before the walk, so I thought I should give the bag a go just for the hell of it.

Cold night? Sure, this bag is rated to -7° C (20° F) so it should work okay. I went to bed bagged up and found out that the night may not have been as cold as what I imagined it would be. I work up as if I was inside a furnace and spent a few minutes desperately trying to escape the flames. I noted as I got into my actual bed that besides feeling hot, my throat was sore. No worries, I'll be fine in the morning I was thinking.

Well, I woke up a few hours later as if my throat had been polished internally with a brillo pad. Yes, I had a cold of some description and felt like absolute crap. Ben was up at the same time and mentioned, "I'm coming down with a cold I think. I'm feeling crap." Great, the double sick combo, but a fine sunny day for walking was on the agenda, so we did continue with the plan.

It was interesting heading out under grey skies wondering where the fine sunny day was. Oh well, maybe it'll be clear at the coast was our thinking, as we endured a lovely log jam of traffic that Melbourne dishes up these days whilst coughing and sneezing. A quick pit stop was required just to get some butter menthols for the day and I did get to reflect that the AlpinLite sleeping bag may not have been the reason I woke up dying of heat exhaustion. I was already sick before getting into it for sure, so the jury is out on the heat that bag can produce until I'm germ free.

A few hours of driving and we arrived at the Punch Bowl Road car park which was the starting point for the walk. The sky continued to be a complete white-out of solid clouds and combined with no wind I was getting pretty suspicious about the 'fine and sunny day' forecast. There were plenty of cars in the car park as the area is known for rock fishing and also notorious for the blokes who seemed to get washed off the rocks and never seen again. I'd never been to this area before, but when I looked at one rock shelf it did look pretty exposed to the unexpected wave, but it was proving to be a popular spot to be.

Well, off we started and within about 30 seconds of walking I spotted the first horror of the day. An absolutely enormous house sitting on a nearby hillside that's coloured sort of like 'Barbie' pink. I'm not sure who approves the planning permits, but this joint is not remotely discreet and I almost felt myself vomit at the sight of it.

It reminded me of a bloke who I knew in the army who flaked out half plastered on his bed at the barracks and woke up by performing a power-spew. Even today I'm not sure how he did it, but by defying gravity/physics/divine intervention he managed to vomit with such velocity that it connected with the ceiling fan above his bed.

Now, we didn't have any old ceiling fans in our rooms. Ours were more of an industrial variety, that seemed to be modelled on the blade of a Chinook helicopter and when running on a hot night sounded about the same. With the mind bending spew striking the blades running at full speed, his room was converted into an instant 'vomitron'. Quite a brutal story, but that's exactly how I felt upon sighting the 'Barbie' house. Money doesn't buy taste that's for sure. I'd include a photo of it, but as I check out my blog now and again I don't want it tainted by such a piece of crap spoiling the virtual pages.

Anyway, I stumbled on from the shock of what I'd seen and kept my eyes facing the ground, just so I didn't accidently get my retinas burnt by the hot pink house. This method was a bonus as I spotted a nice feather covered in water droplets lying in the grass.

It's an interesting walk along the top of the cliffs and I noted a sign that said, '...track built by trainees from Wonthaggi on a Landcare Environment Action Program (LEAP) in May 1994". The only 'LEAP' acronym I had heard of before this was the 'Law Enforcement Assistance Program which is another thing altogether. Judging by the track surface, I think a ride-on mower was a major part of the construction technique as that's what the path feels like and it makes for very casual walking.

The track along the cliff tops... 

It was a pity the sky was totally washed out, but there were some nice views back to Phillip Island with the peak of Cape Woolamai visible where I had walked a few weeks ago. Here's a picture that's been totally abused by an Adobe Lightroom preset called 'cool retro'.

Phillip Island in the distance with the Cape Woolamai 'summit' on the left... 

Ben by now had raced ahead and I was checking the map for the first point of interest and that's a spot called 'Half Moon Bay'. A lot of the beach sections of the walk are only accessible at low tide which wasn't really in our favour as high tide had been reached only an hour before we started. I sure wasn't going to continue along the mowing track though and at first opportunity I was hoping to hit the beach and see how we would go. On such a calm day I was hoping it would be fine for a bit of rock hopping.

The track continues... 

There was the odd punter heading back the other way which meant they had probably started a lot earlier than us! I finally came across Ben waiting at the intersection of track which led to Half Moon Bay and with the inviting looking sand we headed straight for the beach.

Half Moon Bay

It looks pretty good through the trees...

Hang on, how did he get there so fast...?

I'm not sure how Ben got so far ahead, as I was still on the track going down when I could see him on the beach already about 400 metres away. Mm... I must be slightly slower in walking than I even thought I was.

If we leave at the same time, how does one get so far ahead?

I did get delayed on the way down by taking the odd photo and I was even more impressed to come across some 'Pac-Man' rocks. This is how bad my 'epic' walks are getting when I'm on the look out for crap like this.

Pac-Man

Half Moon Bay is a great little beach and what I found surprising was there wasn't one piece of rubbish or driftwood on it. The sand was perfect and I was suddenly worried that, 'every beach walk I do I find a shoe' record may be broken.

Breaking waves on Half Moon Bay beach 

There was an opportunity to take some photos as the small swell lazily rolled in. There appeared to be no problems sticking to the beach for the time being and the walk was a lot more interesting at sea level. I had a chance to capture a wave hitting a rock that was more soufflé than ocean.

The only thing of note washed in on the beach was a huge cuttlefish bone that I'd ever seen. I took a photo, but I should have placed an object next to it as a size comparison, like a tractor tyre or something similar. Oh well, take my word that it was massive.

Cuttlefish Bone

We continued on and there was a nice gully between the rocks where the waves were rolling in. It would definitely be a good spot to be on a lousy day, with the wind blowing and a larger swell, as even on this calm day there were plenty of photo opportunities.

We left the sand and now there were a few rocky headlands to walk around. During this section of rock walking I began to feel relieved about my 'shoe on a beach' record. I could see in the distance that amongst the rocks there was a pile of driftwood and I felt a shoe was ready to give itself up at any moment. It's strange how the ocean deposits its junk in certain spots as the sandy beach had none, but just over a hundred metres away on the rocks there were piles of it.

The tide was out enough for us to get around okay although there was one section were a bit of balancing was required to negotiate some rocks above the water. I certainly went into concentration mode whilst doing this 'ledge work', as this was the sort of place I'd normally be finding myself flat on my back.

Easy there, big fella... 

The foot is in mid air!  Incredible drama!

After the suspense of ledge walking it was back to a rocky cove where the driftwood was sitting. I could sense a shoe at any moment. How about a picture in the 'cool retro' preset again?

A bit of looking amongst the driftwood and I found what I was looking for to keep the 100% record going.

There was some slight controversy though as we disputed whether a sandal is a 'shoe'. Okay, it's footwear, but it required an upper to be a shoe was the consensus. The rules are pretty strict on these records, so I had to keep looking as Ben was keeping me honest. He took off to investigate an interesting rock wall whilst I was fossicking amongst rubbish trying to find a spare shoe anywhere.

I found the usual suspects of fishing equipment and was intrigued by something that looked like some sherbet on a stick, but it turned out to be a float with a sinker attached which was disappointing, as I felt like a bit of sugar to keep me going.

No, you can't eat it.

In this vast booty of lost and discarded items I thought I'd found a massive comb. If my hair was a little thicker I'd use it for sure.

Super-sized comb

Continual fossicking led to some nice ocean weathered timber lying around and it'd be great to have some of it at home to make a feature out of. Then again, most of the pieces I liked were enormous and Ben reminded me I had a hatchback car, instead of a truck to put them in. Logic is tough to deal with at times. Oh well, it was photos only on this occasion.

Whilst looking around I did spot the sole of a shoe that had an almost 'ye olde' look to it wedged in the rocks. Then again with the weathering action of the waves it may have only been there a week or so. Thinking it was actually from George Bass himself was probably a little optimistic. Actually, do I have to mention who 'Big George' is? I can't relate the whole story, but briefly he was this wild man who rowed a boat with a bunch of other punters down the coast from New South Wales to Victoria discovering things along the way. That's roughly about it and I'm sure checking Wikipedia would be handier to tell his story than what I've just described.

Well, on we walked amongst the next pile of driftwood and finally my 100% 'shoe record' was intact, as even the umpire couldn't knock this one out as not being a shoe.

Actually, I was over the shoe hunt, as a quick glance around this spot made me think it had been set up as some sort of joke. I was waiting for Allen Funt to pop up from behind a nearby rock as the entire area was footwear madness.

Can you stop now? I've had enough of footwear...

My god, I never want to see any more footwear again after being bombarded with it in such a short period of time. Anyway, that search was over and I noticed the first annoying error of the day. I'd taken my Garmin GPS with me to cross-reference against the iPhone 'Walkmeter' app I was also using, but upon checking the GPS I noticed it wasn't on. Okay, turn it back on should be simple shouldn't it? This is what I did, but it wouldn't fire up again, so either it had crapped itself or the batteries were flat. Mm... was the thinking as I was pretty sure the batteries had plenty of life in them. Oh well, for my final statistics of the walk I was hoping the iPhone would come through with the goods.

We had spent some looking around and we still had a fair way to go if we were to make it anywhere near Kilcunda. We decided to speed up a little and continued on a combination of rocky headlands and sandy beaches. There were plenty of stops for photos along the way though. In 'cool retro' of course.

Even though the water was flat it still had the sneakiness to suddenly surge up when we were crossing the rocks. I always try and keep an eye on the sea when walking across these spots as I remember being knocked off my feet by an unexpected wave when I was a kid. Getting washed across rocks with no way of stopping was a little disappointing and the only reason I didn't end up amongst the kelp and ocean was my brother grabbing hold of me. Definitely something to remember even a million years after it happened.

We reached a nice sandy beach and decided to walk around a couple more headlands and then call it quits for the day. The way the time was going there was no way we would finish in daylight and frankly we were actually both feeling like crap due to the head colds. I was hoping for a bit of a sunset, but the grey sky was keeping the sun well hidden, so that was looking unlikely.

Fresh sand...

...until it looked like the Yeti had strolled through.

I guess when walking together a lot of times we're just talking waffle. We did discover some things though, as Ben admitted he was addicted to chocolate. He can't give it up and go cold turkey even though I've warned him he might end up as a diabetic. I had to face my own demons and admit I'm addicted to potatoes. Fried, baked, whatever, I need my spuds and I'm not sure if I can face life without the prospect of more potatoes heading my way. We were really solving the worlds problems on this walk.

It was now a little late in the day and we had no chance of reaching Kilcunda. We made a decision to head up to the top of the surrounding hills and find the track up top and head back to the car. Finding a good spot to head up top was a bit more of a struggle though, as I kept wanting to see what was going on around the next headland. There were still things to look on the rocky beach and the richly coloured and worn rocks were interesting.

A bit of probing along the top of the beach and found what looked like an old track leading up from the sand dunes. That was the target, but there was a final look at the water and Philip Island in the distance.

With a bit of stumbling we dragged ourselves off the dunes and got onto the old track. My head cold had suddenly caught up with me as I now felt officially stuffed. I was sweating and feeling really ordinary whilst thinking it probably wasn't a good idea to be exercising in this condition. A short uphill stroll from the beach had me puffing and stopping every few metres or so. Just to rub the horror in a little more we came across more stinking footwear abandoned in the grass next to the track.

Oh no! Even in the grass there's more bloody footwear!!!

Ben led the way heading up whilst I struggled up like an old steam locomotive.

Heading up...

...and looking back.

We were now back on the lawnmower path and it seemed to be comfortable walking. Hopefully within an hour we would be back at the car.

Back on track

It was whilst doing this that I became a little surprised when the track suddenly went downhill and ended up on a sandy path. If I didn't know better it felt like we were headed back to the beach which made no sense to me as I thought the path kept going on top of the cliffs. Guess what?

Hang on? We're back on the beach?!

Yep, the path led straight back to the beach where we had been less than an hour ago which made our struggle up to the top quite worthless. Now at sea level again, we decided to retrace our steps along the beach instead of climbing up the cliffs again. With the tide out and firmer sand on offer, we were hoping to make up some ground whereas the cliff-top path is an undulating affair by the looks of it.

Things were going well, but there was always going to be a bit of a 'bummer' involved somewhere. I find when I get tired at the end of a day of walking that's the time I most likely will fall over. No matter that I already know this, it has a higher probability of happening. Then again I've been known to fall over in the morning as well. Oh yeah, sometimes in the afternoon is also a problem. I don't make it any easier for myself though as this picture shows. Rock hopping whilst carrying two cameras at once is pushing the limits a little.

This time I was strolling along the rocks when I stepped on some slippery green/brown 'stuff' and immediately my legs flew out from underneath me. I fell sideways on my hip whilst placing the camera down in a casual sort of 'clanking' sound at the same time. Unfortunately for me I'd not picked a soft rock and it was quite painful overall. There was the odd popping and cracking noises from my vertebrae which was a worry considering how my neck has been. In fact, it felt like I had whiplash as I crunched onto the rocks and it certainly rung my bell. There was absolutely no mojo to hop up straight away, so I lay on the ground for a minute or two to recover and check if all of my limbs were still working. Ben managed to get a photo of my resting position.

Just relaxing whilst hoping I wasn't paralysed...

Oh yeah, another method to make falling over more interesting is that I always take a photo from the position I end up in. The following angle shows the direction we were heading back to the car. Quite relaxing, sort of. I felt like my dad's famous quote of, "I thought it was the beginning of the end, but it was the end of the beginning." Mm... Can you say that again, as I've no idea what that means? Then again he did lie on the couch one day and say, "I'm dying and all I wanted was to be able to see the Sydney Olympics". Well, about 25 Olympics later he's still going strong and probably now saying he just wants to see the London Games before dying (again).

This is the view whilst splattered on the rocks...

I officially was at the point where I'd had enough. A few more minutes on the ground and as I gingerly got up I noted that my hip was pretty sore plus the neck was a bit rickety. I can't wait to tell my neurosurgeon about that one! He'll be mildly annoyed, but also pleased as any operation he'll be the one doing it and consequently making the money from it as well.

The aching joints combined with the cold made the struggle a little bit more painful, but with a bit more walking we soon found the path that leads out of Half Moon Bay.

We were now back on the track and with not a great distance to go. The pink 'Barbie' house was glowing ahead like a beacon leading us back to the car. Light was quite dim and the sunset I was hoping for was nowhere to be seen as the cloud cover remained as it had when we first started walking.

Phillip Island in the distance at dusk...

A little bit further and we reached the car park. Well, Ben was there about 20 minutes before me and now it was time to check the statistics. Without a GPS reading I can't be certain of the exact distance travelled. The iPhone app which I is called Walkmeter isn't too bad as long as you're not surrounded by thick trees or within buildings. Here's a map from Walkmeter showing our walk.

Walk Time: 2:03:40
Stopped Time: 2:06:16
Distance: 10.90 km
Ascent: 114 metres
Descent: 136 metres
Calories: 868

Now, I the distance travelled seems pretty spot on. If we did the full return walk the distance would be about 14 kms. I thought we turned around a kilometre or so from Kilcunda, so the overall total seems to make sense. I would have like the Garmin to have been working to cross-reference, but that's the way it goes.

We were both stuffed from the colds and the prospect of the drive home wasn't that appealing. I was hoping to drive to Rhyll on Phillip Island to have the famed fish and chips for tea and take a few photos of the moon whilst eating. Guess what? When we got there the shop was closed as the owners had 'Gone fishin'' and the moon was nowhere to be seen behind heavy cloud. The best laid plans never seem to work out do they?

Well, it was off home then and on reflection the George Bass Coastal Walk is a bit of fun even if we didn't do the whole distance. There's the mower track, the pink house, the odd thousand pieces of abandoned footwear on offer to keep one busy for a day. It is an 'easy' walk although I would rate it 'moderate/hard' if you have a head cold and sore hips from falling over. Anyway, hopefully we'll come back another day when we both feel a bit better and the sun is out for a bit of polarizer action...