When did you get into bushwalking?I grew up during WWII living at Balmoral Beach. In those halcyon days even getting to the beach was an adventure - crawling through coils of barbed wire. I would have been five or six. The adjacent headlands were then natural bush. Encounters with wildlife were a daily occurrence. Tracks were few or non-existent. Dad had a petrol ration so we were always going “bush”. We would picnic at Oxford Falls, Turimetta Head and on school holidays go to Camden, visit the underground marvels of Jenolan Caves, or explore the New England Ranges. As a family we did lots of walking. It was unremarkable to be in what others regarded as outlandish places – we went where the spirit of adventure called.
I was 11 when we took the flying boat to Lord Howe Island for two weeks and 14 when I went on a student exchange to rural New Caledonia. Interest in walking became more intense when I was at Sydney University and used the vacations to be a mule for post-graduate field geology students, walking miles across the Central West.
However, serious bushwalking had to wait until retirement, when I turned 60. In a self -interrogation a year or so earlier I reviewed the spectrum of what I had enjoyed most in my life to date. Bushwalking and chronicling activities topped the list. So bushwalking became my de facto occupation.
What initially drew you to bushwalking?I suffer from excessive curiosity. If I find something out of place, exotic or unusual I need to know all about it. What I love about the Australian bush is the huge diversity of everything, from the big picture horizons to the subtle nuances of individual floral speciation. When I encounter man-made objects I want to understand how and why and when. In this mode I become part detective, part researcher and then find myself seeking out descendants of the people who built or crafted railway lines, dams, stockyards, etc. Research is also a disease and knowing when to stop can be hard. Love of maps is another failing. My first book on the Lower Grose River was inspired by a first edition copy of the Kurrajong topographic map given to me by bushwalker Don Brooks. It was annotated with evocative notes. I just had to go and see for myself.
What do you now look for in a good bushwalk?Diversity, challenges, the unknown, any factors that cause adrenalin to rush are essential ingredients for a “good” bushwalk. To plan a walk I take a topographic map and seek the area that is most crowded with wiggly topographic lines, then study the aerial photos of the same and see how much bare rock, deep canyons, slots and challenges are in that area. Then I concern myself how to get there. I am so fortunate that over the years so many like-minded adventurers have been prepared to come with me on the basis that it is an adventure and that we have no idea of what we may find. After the walk I enjoy the pooling of photographs and reliving the day (or days), as I document the sights seen and the emotions experienced. Then there is the sharing of the story with other walkers and non-walkers who would love to have been there. That is my recipe for a good bushwalk.