Pindar Cave - Part 2

After lunch we decided that we really needed to find the path. Sure, we could have actually just looked left and found it but instead we decided to ask the local spirits to guide us to the cave. Can't show you the spirit that turned up, for some reason he didn't show up on film, but I can show you his tracks. He was a weird little thing with a wombat's foot, a lyre birds claw, and a tail that left a swish in the soil surprisingly reminiscent of a King Brown snake.

He seemed more interested in showing us the local flora than taking us to the cave.

So we left him behind and just followed the path. The entrance didn't look like much from outside.

But there were some ancient letterboxes at the front door.

The inside was really large and could probably sleep about a hundred people.

Unfortunately there was nothing left of the culture of the people who had lived here. Unless you count the ancient writings on the walls that said things like, "Davo loves Shazza" or "Billy smokes cock".

That's it! The cave was a bit of a let down really. The walk was totally worth it though.


Back from the Bush... with photos!

Hey Peoples! I've been out exploring a little bit of the Aussie bush and Aboriginal culture. The photos below are the first part of our trip to Pindar Cave which was home to an Aboriginal tribe for, ohhhh, only about 40 000 years. I would have liked to show you the walk we did along the ancient highway of the Wodi-Wodi peoples (by highway I mean invisible track that took all my bush knowledge to navigate) but I didn't take a camera. Which was a shame. We had a lot of close encounters with the wildlife. Extremely close. During lunch I looked down to see a very scaley head poking out from under the rock I was sitting on and happily using the back of my shoe as a pillow. After pooing my pants and gently persuading the little bugger to move his head I was able to determine it wasn't a snake. Only a 50cm lizard. Which quickly became six 50cm lizards and a little 10cm baby. We spent the next half hour playing hide and seek with them and convincing them we weren't climbing equipment or that our lunch wasn't lizard food. It was a unique experience, I've never met a more friendly and tenacious bunch of wild animals. Sorry, no camera.

Anyway, to Pindar...

This is the view off the train platform at Wondabyne. I have to climb that? Damn the train has already left and there isn't another for hours.

Luckily some nice person put in some stairs... surely an escalator would have been more appropriate!

We did eventually make it to the top only to find this poor Blue Gum bleeding freely. Apparently it had been shot during a drive-bye by a rival stand of Forest She-Oaks. The Aussie bush is a dangerous place.

This is the view back down the hill to Mullet Creek... I sat there for hours but didn't see a single bad haircut. Ripped off.

The track was hard to follow on this walk too. Somehow we managed to follow it.

The Greenies aren't going to be happy, someone left this whale laying in the bush. I assume it's part of some Japanese research project.

This old gentleman of the forest thought it would be a good idea to grow directly out of the rock face. ScribblyBarks aren't known for their common sense.

Why they're called ScribblyBarks! It takes local artists thousands of hours to mark the trees this way. It's not the Mona Lisa but it's a living.

OK, where'd the path go... this thing was meant to be easy to follow... um... it's out there somewhere... hopefully.

A beautiful example of tesselated rocks, or the ancient remnants of 'honeycomb' made by a now extinct race of giant stone bees. Bees!

Still no path... Only cliffs... Nice view though, time to stop for lunch!

Oh well, we're not that far from Broken Bay and Dangar Island, we can always swim back to civilisation. If you can call an island inhabited by millionaire two-headed giants civilisation. Rather than being eaten by giants I think we'll finish lunch and keep heading onwards to the cave. Mmmm, Lunch.

More later.



Sometimes we're presented with situations in which we react intuitively. The problem is, intuition is fluffy. It's not even like flipping a coin where you know you're going get 50-50 odds on being right. My intuition is usually pretty good, but this one time I even flipped a coin 32 consecutive times with the result being heads (thankyou Rosencrantz and Guildenstern).

Anyway, back to those situations and reactions, after a recent event I was thinking, more fuming... fuming is more fun and the smoke trails give you something purty to look at while working out what the hell is going on... Anyway, I was fuming when I remembered it's not necessarily the situation you find yourself in it's more about your reaction to that event. Memory is good, K.

This one time, at band camp, well, on the railway platform fairly late at night. I was waiting for my train when I saw some drunk guy, who was chatting to some girl, grab her breast. You could tell straight away from her reaction that she didn't know the guy, she was cool but obviously disturbed by the event. Now, my reaction was to start walking directly towards them with the idea being to move between them, feign some sort of long-lost friendship with the girl, and walk away with her to the guards compartment. Intuitively, that's the way I'd deal with that event, the drunk isn't the problem. The girl being within arms length of the drunk is the problem. If the drunk turned his attentions towards me after that... well, that's another matter.

Unfortunately for the inebriated-sexually-harassing-dipshit he made a little mistake, despite her protestations he decided to have another grope, I was even close enough to hear him say "What? You should like it!". Idiot. His mistake being that a much, much, MUCH, larger gentleman who was closer than me noticed and beat the living crap out of him. When I say 'beat' I really mean the colossus' first move was to pick the drunk up above his head and throw him three metres into a vending machine. He then proceeded to stomp on the guy until platform security arrived. Impressive. Intuitive. Ina-spot-of-trouble-with-the-police. Well, not really trouble, they shook the colossus' hand, took a statement, and sent him on his way. His way was to remove the drunk from the equation...

But yeah, that's two ways to react to an event... what would you have done?

Me, I'm not a colossus, I don't react like one, nor should I try.

Anyway, more Bees. Sorry to those who are afraid of them but I'm thinking of turning these into oil paintings. Sorry, fuming of turning these into oil paintings... no... wait...

I'm on 'walkabout' next week. I'll be around a 'puter, but hopefully not too often.


Bees! Run!

Didn't run did you?!

Why do I bother...

Oh yeah, here's me playing, no, illustrating, no, photoshoddying about. Yes, enjoy the playful shoddy illustration.

Bees - 01

Bees. I have a thing for bees at the moment, don't know why. Maybe it's something to do with the fact that 80% of all modern crops rely on the little blighters to pollinate them. No bees... No crops... No food... yes, I think I might go get some food.

Nup, nothing else.


In better news...

Over the last few years there's been a certain hullabaloo surrounding todays date. But no matter the opinions, the politics, the controversies, or the conspiracies, today will always make me think one thing.

Today is a day to remember and hold close the people we love and respect. Cheers to them all!

Including me dear old da, happy birthday.


Bugger Again?!

Holy Crap, what a terrible week for Aussie legends!

I expect many of the Americans out here will say who? But Peter 'Perfect' Brock is like a God down here, a dead-set legend on and off the race track. Once again he died doing what he loved, going way to fast behind the wheel of a car. To lose one Aussie Legend this week was unfortunate, to lose two is just plain careless.

To stick with the theme, here's Brocky with a snake...

They say it comes in threes, boy I hope this guy is next!

And here he is with a snake...



Classic Satan

If anyone would like to re-live some classic Satan you can find it here.



The Crocodile Hunter
Steve Irwin

22 Feb 1962 - 4 Sept 2006

Before 2002 I always thought Steve Irwin was a bit of a drop-kick. Then, while working at Fox Studios, I briefly met him and realised that he wasn't putting on an act. What you saw on the Crocodile Hunter was actually him. It was really quite endearing that he was just a simple bloke that was incredibly passionate. Passionate about Australian wildlife to the point that every cent he ever earnt was spent on nature conservation, leaving only enough to get his next film/TV show off the ground and live an unassuming life.

What a damn shame! He's going to be missed.


Just when I was starting to have some fun...

Moving House

I may be back.