My new theme song--KT Tunstall

From here to maternity

Well, after having been together for 19 years, Nathan and I are finally starting a family. When we first started dating Nathan was committed to never having kids (for a range of reasons such as overpopulation to genetic selection to being overwhelmed by the responsibilities of parenthood depending on the time and place of the discussion). I had always presumed kids would be a part of my future, but was convinced he would change his mind.

In our classic non-decisive way, we agreed to wait until i was 30 and discuss it then. For some people this would be a recipe for disaster. What happens if we disagreed fundamentally about this after having invested 10 whole years in each other. But filled with the certainty that love would conquer all (and that one of us would convince the other to change his/her mind), procrastination was a way of life.

Somewhere in the next 10 years of happy couplehood, I came to realise that Nathan and I were very happy just the two of us....I enjoyed the travel, the time for theatre, music, sports and occasional bouts of total irresponsibility and spontaneity. When Crystal came to live with us, we really understood the total commitment that being a good parent demanded (and how much our lives would have to change to accommodate that). No more dinners at 10 pm or last minute nights out with the girls/guys. So 30 came and went, and I stopped asking the question.

So it was a bit of a surprise when after my 35th birthday, Nathan started asking the question, "Do you want to have kids?" I suppose, as a biologist, he could hear the clock ticking before I could. Each of us was more ready to accept the other's position, confident that we could be happy as long as we were together.

Then my body raised the question again, this time asking us to make a definite choice. A trip to the Dr revealed that I would need surgery--if we weren't going to have kids, the healthier, long-term option was a hysterectomy. If we wanted kids, well, there was a higher risk option. Surprisingly, we both quickly agreed, we would take the higher risk to keep our chance for a child.

While we were both confident that we would be happy together just us two, we began to become more proactive about starting a family. Our plans seemed thwarted when some follow-up Drs visits revealed the need for more surgery. This time, the surgery provided a much clearer prognosis....the chances of us having a child without medical intervention were small.

But just as we dealt with the question of EXACTLY how proactive we wanted to be, we were facing 2 months of traveling (separately) back to the US. In typical fashion, we agreed to procrastinate just a few months more. Luckily, divine intervention.

Nathan and I "fell" pregnant (that doesn't seem like the right language as it suggests it was some sort of accident--when miracle is more like it) in July. Before we knew of our luck, I was back in the US visiting my family. With no morning sickness and success a medical long-shot, it didn't occur to me that we might have succeeded until I met with Nathan in California. We kept our suspicions a secret until we could confirm it for sure.

When I returned to Australia, I made an appointment with the Dr for the bloodtest. It was positive--and we were already 9 weeks along. The Dr rushed us in for appointments, the next week we would need to get other tests done in preparation for our 12 week ultrasound scan.

It was incredible--seeing the baby move, hearing the heartbeat, watching it drink (Nathan thinks it was singing), seeing 5 tiny fingers wave at us. That moment with Nathan, who was drunk with happiness, was one of the closest we had ever shared as a couple.

I'm confident that the moments Nathan and I will share as parents will be some of the happiest and closest of our lives together.

As we are now out of the first trimester (baby is due 1 April, 2011), we wanted to let you know about our latest adventure--and hope you'll share in our excitement to be a part of it.

Kristin, Nathan, and the Bub (Australian slang for baby), here pictured in the classic "Thinker" pose.

Australian satire or Australian politics

Okay, we've been here a few years now. I should be able to figure this out. But Australian politics baffles me.


Last week Premier Kevin Rudd delayed the launch of Australians Carbon Emissions Trading Scheme (ETS) , which was meant to have big companies either pay for polluting or trade their carbon credits with more environmentally friendly companies. This was part of a huge initiative--which put Australia among the first to pledge a serious reduction in carbon emissions.

After more than a year to get the policy together, the government had to delay it because they couldn't get enough support to pass it. This was due largely to leader of the opposition, Tony Abbott, a global warming skeptic.

As every good minority party leader, he has to demonstrate that this delay is a failure of leadership.But today I was listening to what sounded like a "real interview" with the leader of the opposition, Tony Abbott. It was so funny I couldn't be sure it wasn't an example of subtle Australian humour. (this is a bit of a paraphrase...but you get the idea)

Mr Abbott: "So now the ETS is delayed until 2013. This stuff was so important we had to do something despite the economic crisis, I ask Mr Rudd, Isn't this stuff just going to keep piling up?"
Interviewer: I thought you didn't believe in global warning, so what's the problem?
Mr Abbot: I think global warming is a load of crap...but if its so important now imagine what it will be like in 2013?
Interviewer: (pause) but you don't believe in global warming....Its a load of crap.
Mr Abbot: I do think its a load of crap but it doesn't take Einstein to figure out if let this crap build up in 3 years time its going to be a lot of crap."

I think it was a real politics, but with the Austrlian sense of humour you can never be sure.

Olympic perspective

So, I love the Olympics. I love the spirit of good sportsmanship, the grace in winning and losing, and the drinking, smoking, zamboni-riding party after the Canadian women's hockey team won the gold medal.
Actually, I think that celebrating the win of a lifetime on home ice, and bringing some of that celebration out of the locker room and inviting some of your supporters to see you being happy. It wasn't as if they went on a drunken rampage through the streets of Vancouver, they didn't rub it in while the American women were on the ice, and they didn't drive the Zamboni through the plexiglass. They had a glass of champagne, they had a beer, they had a cigar. I find that much less disturbing than the tradition of the medal count, and the idea that whoever has the most medals is kicking butt.
Kris and I were talking about that very thing, and we were thinking of how to better compare the sporting achievements per country. Do you compare medals per capita? That didn't seem like a good idea, since the largest populations are not necessarily the countries that have the resources to invest in developing athletes. Therefore, we set up a table of medals per million dollars GDP (as of 27th of Feb - I have today off, and couldn't wait until tomorrow for this, but I think we get the right idea.
The top 8 medal winners, as ranked by medals/million USD GDP.
8. China - with 11 medals as of today, thats 1 medal for every 432,545 million USD
7. US - 36 medals total = 1medal for every 396,388 million USD
6. Germany - 29 medals - even in a recession, that's 1 medal / 111,551 million USD
5. Russia - 15 medals, 1 medal / 83,666 million USD
4. South Korea - 14 medals, 1 medal / 57,164 million USD
3. Canada - the hosts have 25 medals, which is 1 medal / 52,760
2. Austria - 16 medals and serious economic slowdown equates to 1 medal / 23,400
Aaaaaaand the number one country in terms of medal economy is...
...the envelope please...
1. Norway! A truly tiny GDP when compared to some of the others, but 22 medals. That's one medal for every 16,772 million USD. Very impressive, and something for those of us with Halvorsons and Elvestroms in our family tree to be proud of.
Of course, this was just the top 8 - Norway was about as good as Slovenia, slightly better than Estonia, but not quite the all-time leader.
That goes to Latvia - 1 medal/12,100 million USD.
That's a pretty good ratio. If the Americans earned medals at that rate, we would have 1,179 in the medal count. Even though we're leading in the medal count, it sounds a little underachieving when it's put in perspective.

Day 5 -7 (We suck at this!)

Day 5--Kia Ora to Windy Ridge:

This walk was relatively down hill for most of the day (Hallelujah!) It's big attraction was it was 3 big waterfalls along the way.




The really big highlight however was Nathan and I saw our first snake in Australia (ever); and yes it was poisonous. It's a tiger snake (we think).

We walked into Windy Ridge just as the wind picked up and it started to rain (perfect timing). It seemed like too much work to set up so we spent the night in a brand new hut with a huge drying room and a large communal kitchen area where almost everyone spent the night reading and playing cards.
Day 6: Windy Ridge to Echo Point Hut
The next day was an easy downhill walk on planked paths through lush green meadows. With rain sprinkling intermittantly, the trees were filled with birdsong. Overheating in our rainsuits, we stopped frequently to consult the bird book looking for superb fairy wren, cockatoos, and kurrawongs. We reached the suspension bridge that marks the final leg...the walk to Narcissus Hut and Lake St Claire.


Most of the other hikers stopped to set up camp on the lakeshore, planning to take the ferry back to the end of the trail. In a fit of machismo, Nathan and I decide to complete the Overland Track on foot--walking to Echo Point Hut and the last 15km to the end of the Lake.

This forest track was less-travelled--overgrown with giant ferns muddy and less repaired. I had taken off the bottoms to my rainsuit to allow for better temperature regulation (whew...steamy), and within 15 minutes was a wet, muddy mess. We arrived at Echo Point hut to find a fire in the coal heater and a place to dry our soaked socks.

After dinner, we walked the lakeshore searching for platypus but there was not a single sign of good habitat or platypi frollicking in the dusk.


Day 7: Echo Point Hut to the Lake St Claire Visitors centre.
We got an early start on the hike back to Lake St Claire...the ferns were covered in a thick dew and caught the morning sunlight. Again, we were soaked and muddy in the first 15 minutes. There is something psychological that happens when you are told you are on the last flat stretch....every minor hill becomes a major discouragement. As soon as we met the first day hikers out for a walk, the remaining kilometers crawled by...."Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?"

When we hit the national park, people looked on in an admiring disgust. Admiring our fortitude at the long hike, disgust at the smell which permeated our clothes--sweat and coal. Before heading for the showers, we paused to say goodbye to our friends from the trail and to sign the register completing our walk.

Finally clean, we bought a lunch of fresh fruit and coffee (which was a major treat after a week of freeze-dried food!) and caught the bus back to Launceston. We arrived at Kilmarnock House where we filled the jacuzzi with hot water, drank red wine, and ate pizza. HEAVEN.

Day 4: Pelion to Kia Ora

The ongoing (retrospective) saga of the overland track continues, as told by Nathan. Kris, while she has plenty to say about this particular day, not much of it is suitable for public consumption. If you ask her about this day, she sounds like Yosemite Sam with a migraine.
If I say that we got a late start, I dare say you wouldn't be surprised. We hit the trail at 9am, and had a tough slog up to the pass, called Pelion Gap. From here, there was the option of climbing Mt. Ossa, the tallest mountain in Tasmania. Well, it was beautiful, not too hot, and there was a rumor that there was snow at the top, so we dropped the packs and started up. and up. and a quick down, then...up.
Now, by the time we were at the pass, we had already climbed about 1000 feet, and Kris was not in a good place. Since I am writing this, I think that I can honestly say that I offered to forego the ascent, in the interests of domestic harmony. She insisted that it would be okay. So we went.
Also because I am writing this, I am able to vividly recall roughly 718 times that I offered to turn around, since Kris was clearly having a rough time. Each time, with alternating weariness and peevishness, she assured me that it would be fine, it was a great day for a climb, we would likely never have this opportunity again, and how come we couldn't bring more water.
By the time we crested the summit, some of the other helpful hikers had pointed out that it wasn't the summit. The path was helpfully angled so that you couldn't see the fake-out that led you to believe that you were about to get to the top, until you got to the top of what you thought was the mountain, only to find that there was about another bjillion boulders to scramble over, leap across, and about another 1000 feet to climb.
Once morale had been restored to the minimum required for summit conquering, we scrambled, leapt, and climbed to the real summit. Kris lay down and fell asleep while I looked for water. There was a small patch of snow, and I woke up Kris to have a look before it melted.
The descent was very similar to the ascent, with the addition of facing the perilous drop-offs, making it even more hair raising.
(During this all, we were passed by the 9 year-old and her family)
(twice)
At the base, there were 2 surprises.
One - the ravens had unzipped all of the packs of one of the tour groups, as well as the family from Perth's, stealing treats and - even worse - their toilet paper.
Two - a guy came through, jogging. He was running from start to finish that day, about 80 km (50 miles). Not only was he running it, he wasn't even part of a race, he was running it alone. Now I have to ask you...doesn't that sound great? Maybe any other day this suggestion would have been received more gracefully, but today, Kris was not very receptive to the conversation.
So...moving on.
One of the ways to keep sane on these warmer days is to take off your boots occasionally, especially if you're next to an icy stream that is ankle deep. That's where we stopped initially.
Another way to stay cooler is to take a dip in an icy pool under a waterfall. That's where we stopped at the end of the walk. And when I say "dip" I mean sliding off of the submerged rock at comfortable knee-depth to be immersed in water that made you feel like your chest was in a vice it was so cold. I pretty much levitated, Bugs Bunny-like, and ran on the surface back to shore. Kris, slightly braver, stayed in for about 14 seconds.
Still shivering, we walked back up to camp, where we admired a passing quoll, ate dinner, and hung up our clothes to dry.
And so ended a very, very long day.

Windermere to Pelion : Day 3

Well, if you're not into suspense, then I'll just say that this day doesn't get any easier, but it ends with a bang. Hope that doesn't spoil anything.

See, day 3 was New Year's Eve, but the day started early - at least, a 7am departure is early for these hikers. It was meant to get pretty hot - Tasmania is famous for its unpredictable weather, with blizzards possible even in summer, so our clothing was geared more to preventing hypothermia than preventing heat stroke, and we figured that an early jump was our best bet. So of course we were about the last people out of camp. The hike today was 17km, with a short side trip to a scenic overlook and a long side trip that I took to see what was there (nothing).
On the way, however, we got a close up of one of Australia's unique animals. The echidna, while resembling the love child of a hedgehog and a porcupine, is actually quite different, and belonging to that rarest of biological orders, the monotremes. This means that they are egg-laying mammals, with only the elusive platypus as company. That is just one of the cool things about them, including the fact that they don't have nipples, just patches of skin through which they lactate. Also, their young are called puggles.
Anyway, we watched for some time as this little guy sat in the middle of an ant hill, happy as a pig at the trough, as the stinging insects crawled all over our spiny friend, while he shovelled them in as fast as they could cross his snout. I tried to catch it on video, but you would need a bigger screen than Best Buy offers to see the ants. (Incidentally, the ants, known as Jack Jumpers in Tasmania, aka Myrmecia pilosula, are an aggressive species of ant with a sting that is amongst the most venemous of any insect, and allergic reactions cause more deaths in Tasmania annually than spiders, sharks, wasps, and snakes combined - a new thing to fear in Australia! Hooray!) Anyway, here we go...

So the long hike continued, with a foreign legion-like cloth sticking out the back of my cap to protect me from the hole in the ozone. We passed through a bewildering array of landscapes, from a high tundra-like region dotted with lakes, to deep myrtle forest and everything in between. As we passed through the region called frog flats, promises of leeches kept us from even slowing down until we we reached camp.

Setting up our tent on a 4 tent platform, we were amused to find that the other three tents were occupied by residents of Perth, and after we all kicked off our boots for a while, we found ourselves meeting up separately at the swimming hole (backtracking 30 minutes - but what else do you do for a break during the hike except go for a walk?). Here we met a couple of guys who had just trekked out of the real wilderness over the "Never Never" and set up shop in the emergency shelter which was the old pelion hut. They gave us rudimentary directions to the one landmark that was the one must-have side trip for me.
After a little crashing through the bush with Scott and Michaela from Perth, we found an abandoned copper mine. Having been unprepared for the possibility that it would just be wide open, we - all four of us knowing that we were headed to an abandoned mine shaft - had neglected to bring a flashlight. Lighting our way through intermittent flashes from the camera, we carefully edged in about 50 feet, but had to stop our amateur spelunking for fear of, well, fear. Fear of snakes, spiders, jumping ants, falling ceilings, huge Indiana Jonesish pits with booby traps and tribes of heart-stealing cannibals. Fortunately, we retreated just ahead of the tarantulas that were no doubt lurking just around the corner.


So, if that wasn't the big bang at the end of the post, what was it? It certainly wasn't the huge splurge that we allowed ourselves - 1 oz. of bailey's in a tiny little bottle especially to celebrate New Year's Eve. No, the big bang was a firework show.

A truly spectacular thunderstorm rolled through with peals of thunder and flashes of lightning all around, rain lashing the tent and wind trying to tear us from the tent platform. A huge bear of a storm fronted up, threatened us with a show of ferocity, then backed off, grumbling into the early hours of the morning. It was especially great, since a) our tent stayed dry, and b) we didn't get struck by lightning. And we dozed off contentedly, prepared for tomorrow's big climb.

Waterfall Valley Hut to Lake Windemere

With the leaky thermarests, you might expect that it was a restless night. Exhaustion, however, is a wonderful sleeping pill. Nathan and I woke at about 8:00 (after most other tent hikers had breakfast and packed their tents and came by the hut to wash up their dirty dishes). Having realized that we were carrying much heavier food than everyone else, we decided to eat the heaviest breakfast we could....pancakes.

Our cookstove is a whispalite...which has a great reputation for being reliable, light, and boils water very quickly. Our stove also has a reputation for releasing the occasional fireball when you light it. I had wanted to buy another stove, but Nathan promised he would do all the cooking so I wouldn't burn my eyebrows off. Clever boy that he is, he had deduced that if he does all the cooking, I would have to do all the washing up. Let's just say, when you are trying to scrub off maple syrup without soap you realize just how smart your husband is.

As we packed up, hikers stopped by to chat. Their opening comment to Nathan was always, "have you seen your neck? It's really sunburnt." Yesterday had been a beautiful sunny day, about 85 degrees in Tassie. Not hot at all by WA standards. But, because of the heat in WA, we don't usually spend 10 hours in the sun. Both of us had sunburned necks, ears, temples, and perhaps most awkwardly the backs of our hands. Because Tassie has a reputation for being cold and wet, we had only packed about 2 oz of suncreen (and 10 oz of bugspray) and began rationing it out for our 7 day trip.

We hit the trail by 9:00 am (leisurely start) but weren't worried as today was a scheduled short day. The trail led off through a beautiful valley. As late as we were, we had the valley to ourselves. Looking at the birds and the clouds around the mountains, the sun peeking into deeper parts of the valley, it was like walking through a postcard.
As we hiked out of the valley, we crossed a large plain in full sun. Shade was rare and at every tree we passed a group of hikers stopped to rest for their morning snack. We marched on promising ourselves we would take a rest and reapply sunscreen at Lake Wills.

At the turnoff to the Lake, we dropped our packs. We had been warned about crows, possums, and quolls stealing food from packs at these turn offs. These animals were smart enough to know that food was usually kept accessible to the hikers so they looked for zippers to open in search of food. We covered our packs in our rain gear, then stacked our packs on top of each other to prevent theft.

After walking about 1k on a easy boardwalk, we reached a small beach facing Barn Bluff. We took off our boots (HEAVEN) and Nathan waded into the cold water to cool his feet. Now, you probably know but I have an intense dislike of ticks (some might call it a phobia), but reading our guidebooks had tranferred this phobia to other blood-sucking organisms. Listed under dangers in our guide book, were the following: Exposure, Snake Bites, River Crossings, Gastro, and Leech Bites. I don't want everyone to think I'm a big weenie. I don't like the idea of leeches but felt I could be an adult and calmly remove a leech if need be---- UNTIL I read the following sentence, "If unfortunate to have a leach in a sensitive place, SUCH AS AN EYE, then apply a mild salt solution until the leech releases." I brought an entire salt shaker to surround my sleeping bag in salt as a circle of protection.

I sat on the sand thinking about leeches and my hot feet when a family of 5 arrived at the beach. Scott and Christine and their 3 girls (Mikaela (14), Amy(11), and Sophie (9)). Everyone straight in the water to cool off. That's when I realized I was being a weenie....and I got in. It was bliss. Besides, with all these young girls they had much tenderer meat than me to feed on.

that's me, looking for leeches

When we left the lake, we returned to the turnoff to pick up our packs. A few people hadn't taken precautions, their bags had been burgled. Ravens had tried to make off with fresh apples. (For those of you non-hikers, fresh fruit is a LUXURY--very heavy. So to lose a lb of apples that you had carried over cradle mountain is a tragedy).

Barn Bluff on the left and Cradle Mountain on the right. We've come a long way baby!

The hike took us between several highland lakes, before we finally wound our way down to Lake Windemere, a large lake about 300 m from our campsite. We paused there for a late lunch before hiking up to the campsite to set up our tent. By the time we arrived, we couldn't find a tent platform to ourselves. We ended up sharing with a father and son, Michael and Chris.

At this point, we have another realization about why our packs are so heavy compared to everyone else. Nathan and I carry a 3-person tent. It has enough space for us to store our packs inside the tent without having to sleep on our side all night. Everyone else at the campsite has a 2 person tent and stores their packs in the hut (to prevent animal break-ins). Our tent weighs 4kg, our neighbor's tent was just under 2kg. We didn't even fit on the tent platform!

After setting up, we wandered back down to the Lake for a swim. The water was cold, but eventually Nathan tiptoed his way in. While we were swimming, we met another couple from WA, Sharon and Dean, that had made a goal to swim EVERY DAY on the trail.

Nathan thinks the water is too cold! What sort of Alaskan did I marry?

You may not realize how important this is. Most people (except Nathan and I) only bring 2 sets of clothes for the hike: A set of clothes you hike in, and a set of clothes that you change into at camp. With as physically demanding as some of the hiking is, you can imagine what the hiking clothes smell like even after 2 days. That's why swimming daily is a good goal. Nathan and I had one extra set of clothes that means we could wash one pair and wear a dry pair the next day.
There is a problem with this. It means you have to put a wet pair of clothes in your pack while you hike, which can be just as gross and if you think about it: WET CLOTHES ARE HEAVY. Next time, I think I'd rather stink.

Refreshed after our swim and dinner, we decide to sneak down to the Lake to see if we can achieve one of our goals for the trip, seeing a platypus in the wild. All is still in the deepening dusk, until a wombat snuffles its way across the path into some deeper scrub brush near the water. Eventually, we give up waiting and return to our tent. Tomorrow is the longest day of hiking and rumours have circulated it will reach 90 degrees. We promise ourselves an early start--7:00 AM.

Day 1; Ronnie Creek to Cradle Mtn to Waterfall Valley Hut

it's the big day....start of the Overland Track. Our stay in the caravan park wasn't too comfortable so we are easily up by 7:30 am, start the day with oatmeal and coffee, before donning our packs.

We load on our packs. Nathan's weighed 23 kg; 25 with water (55 lbs). Mine is 21 kg, 23 kg with water, almost 50 lbs. WATER is HEAVY! Each of us were hiking with 2 liters--so an additional 4.4 pounds of water every day.

We walk from the caravan park to the bus stop outside the cradle mountain park. After about 10 minutes, I'm thinking, "man this pack is heavy, I've got another 45 miles of this!" Bad sign! Once we are on the bus, we are excited that we are the only hikers on the bus. It means that our hike won't be like standing in line at Disneyland.

We arrive at the Ronnie Creek bus stop, the official start of the overland track. While we are taking the documentary photo above, a private touring company pulls up and unloads 12 hikers. Hello disneyland!

The hike starts in a highland valley covered in lichen, moss, and button grass with streams wandering throughout--prime wombat country. To protect the grassland, the hike starts on a boardwalk--its like a freeway and Nathan and I get a head start on the tour group. After a few km, we start a gentle climb up to Crater Lake. We stop for a brief pause to put on our Gaiters (heavy canvas shin guards to protect against snake bites) at the Cradle Falls, where the tour group catches up with us. As they are resting in the climb, we head up hill trying to put a little distance between us and them . From here it gets steeper climbing 300m in less than a km, so the tour group catches us again by the time we reach Kitchen Hut (our lunch stop), where we drop our packs for the climb up Cradle Mountain.

From Kitchen Hut, Cradle Mountain is a 320 m climb over 2.4 km. That sounded pretty steep, but after I took off my pack, I felt so much lighter I was sure I could manage 2.4 km walking. Foolishly, I hadn't realised that about 1/3 of the way up the mountain, you stop walking and start scrambling over giant granite boulders. This continues for a long time....just when you get to the top of what you can see, there's a saddle so you have to crab-walk down the boulders for .5 km before you start crawling over the really steep stuff on the way to the top.

We came from all way down there....pretty steep huh? On the far side of the lake, there's a little parking lot that you can just see in this photo - then up from that there's a belt of dark green trees. If you follow that around to the left, well, that's almost at the beginning of the trail. And we're about 1/2 way through the first day. I can't believe I'm still smiling at this point. Here we are approaching the summit! It was a little bit like the cover of the Led Zepplin album Houses of the Holy, only steeper.

By the time we get to the top, I'm too tired to look around.

After resting at the summit, we crabwalk down the rocks until we are able to hike again. Despite the fact that we still have 5 km to hike to Waterfall Valley hut, I'm grateful to finally be able to walk again. Even though its all downhill from here, the last few km take on that "are we there yet?" sort of feeling. My knees, feet, and BUTT are super sore from the cradle mountain climb, so when we get to Waterfall Valley where we are supposed to be camping, we collapse and decide to stay in the trekking huts provided. These enclosed shelters have picnic tables and a mattress free wood platform to place your sleeping bag on.

We are the envy of the other campers in the hut as Nathan makes his famous TVP burritos (with a special treat...FIRE SAUCE from Taco Bell. THANKS GRETCHEN!)...that is until we find out that fellow walkers Jo & Ben are carrying all freeze-dried food and their packs are 7 kg lighter than EACH of ours. Then we envy them a bit!

Exhausted we discover one fatal mistake: Our thermarest mattress pads BOTH have slow leaks (and slowly deflate over a period of a half an hour). Since some friends had borrowed them and had to use them to get out of the sand after they got stuck during a camping trip, we had made a point to test them before our trip. The leaks were just slow enough that we didn't detect them during our testing, but fast enough to deflate before we could fall asleep.

It's going to be a long night.

Overland Track adventure

I must have been crazy last July when I registered Nathan and I for the Overland Track in Tasmania. Our last hike in Minnesota was, um, "eventful." I badly sprained an ankle, Nathan got heat stroke (2x) and there were ticks, lots and lots of ticks. But hiking is like marathons, some endorphin-related amnesia kicks in and despite all practical experiences which tells you hiking is going to be hard and dirty, you dream of savouring a hot cup of coffee before an open fire, then ambling through pristine wilderness listening to birdcalls and babbling brooks. When in reality, there is a lot more sweat, dirt, and not enough hot coffee.

So, in July, I proposed a "cheap vacation" to Tasmania to hike the 80km Overland Track from Cradle Mountain to Lake St Claire. Nathan didn't argue, he's just happy for me to do the vacation planning for a change. I booked a hiking permit for the 29th December which only allows 60 people on the trail on our start date for a $250, plus a parks pass ($120). Then the plane fare, ($2400), then bus transfers ($240) then a hotel with a spa bath for the last 3 days ($450 ). Our cheap holiday--$3500, we could have gone to Bali for 3 weeks! but still not enough money for 2 plane tickets back to the US at Christmas.

You will notice the phrase mountain in the title, it didn't strike me at the time, but later planning the journey it caught my eye. What do they mean Mountain? Well, the tallest Mountain in Tasmania is Mt Ossa at 1600 m. (5300 ft) So, its not going to break any records in Alaska (but maybe in MN). The whole place is forested, hills and valleys sprinkled with highland lakes, and really ROCKY granite peaks. Sounds lovely, right?

On boxing day (26 Dec), we spent the bulk of the day packing our back packs, weighing them, taking out some clothes, weighing them again, taking out some food, weighing again, taking out mroe clothes, and weighing again. Without water or fuel, Nathan's pack weighed 22kg and mine was 20 kg. That night, we grabbed the red-eye to Launceston. We headed to our B&B, before explore the 3rd oldest city in Australia. The historic buildings have mostly been preserved the occasional modern or art deco building popping up. With a pop of 120,000 Launceston is the 2nd largest city in Tasmania (500,000), with 1/4 of the state a National Park.

After dropping our packs and catching a quick nap, we went out for a 5 hour walk, including Launceston's famous Cataract Gorge. We chose the steep zig-zag trail which provides beautiful views of the river. In the gorge, they have a chairlift over the lake. On the chairlift, Nathan spotted 2 seals. He just couldn't believe that they would swim up river to frolic in some Australian's swimming hole.
At the end of the day, we walked back to town looking for a nice pub for dinner.
As we headed to Launceston's downtown, we stumbled upon Launcheston's annual cycling race. From our vantage point in the pub, we were able to see Lycra-clad speedsters racing around our city block. We didn't understand the rules or who won, but it was entertaining to watch them cycling in circles to the applause of an enthusiastic crowd.

The next morning, we caught a bus to Cradle Mountain National Park. After dropping our packs at the Caravan Park, we went for a hike around Dove Lake and Wombat Pool, another 5 hour hike. (I don't know we kept walking, what did we think we would be doing for the next week?!?!?) On the way back from our hike, we had our first Aussie Wildlife encounter a Wombat.

Tomorrow, we head off for the first day of the Overland Track (Day 1--Cradle Mountain!).