The Fifty

In that weird period of nothingness between Christmas and New Years I went bush. And took photos.

Partly cos there's this series I'm working on. But mainly cos I couldn't cope with the fact that I would have shot less the fifty rolls of film last year.

It is kinda strange but even though I was studying and one would have thought photographing more than usual, I only shot 23 rolls of film for my studies total. Plus a couple of thousand digital images, about half of which were in the studio.

Anyway, my trip into the bush was very exciting. Being the good ex-Boy Scout I am, I was completely unprepared. Mainly cos I was going somewhere for which I was adequately prepared, but then minutes from that location I decided to go somewhere else. Somewhere I hadn't been for many years.

So my imagined pleasant two hour stroll became (according to the signage) a five hour trek. And me with little water, no food, no map, and no real idea of where I was going. Pish. Who needs that crap?!

I looked at the map at the trail entrance and picked my route based on track names - "that sounds like it will be strenuous so we'll do that first". Trick for idiots, GW maps at trail entrance's lack contour marks, and sometimes track names lie.

So a pleasant stroll through bush, up hill, a bit of down hill, across a couple of creeks, and eventually you come out in a river valley. Quite an easy walk, take a few photos along the way. Don't mind the odd spit of rain as it's a warm enough day. At the river, time for a wee break. Take some more photos. Think it would be a nice time for a little snack. Oh well.

Then you head off, back the way you just came, then hang a right to do the loop. It's a little climb up to the ridgeline.

Only the little climb becomes another little climb almost as soon as you've finished the previous little climb. And that little climb becomes another little climb almost as soon as you've finished the previous little climb. And that little climb becomes another little climb almost as soon as you've finished the previous little climb. etc. etc. etc.

Stop to take photos. Mainly cos I'm knackered, now really wishing I had some food. And more water. And fitter legs. I carry on. And stop and rest and puff away and really, truly wish I had some food and more water.

And this goes on for what seems like forever, and then I notice the flora changing. And the track becomes less steep. And soon I can see sky. And I thank god (generically and metaphorically) cos it means that it should be pretty much downhill from now on.

And I wander along and think to myself, "as much as that climb nearly killed me, I'm glad I'm here now and not when I headed out under blue sky".

And I finally get back to the car after getting bored with the downhill track, check the time and discover that even with all photo and rest breaks, physical exhaustion etc. the five hour trek only took four and a half hours.

It's strangely disappointing. Still I made it out alive. Finished a second roll of film. And looked forward to some treats from the nearest dairy - an unhealthy late lunch masquerading as dinner entrée.


But most importantly the two rolls of film shot that day meant that I reached my fifty roll target and I could end the year in peace.