There's also the sense of mateship, of looking out for each other, even people not in your party. Redgum wrote about a war, and their I was only 19 lyrics apply to the bush:

But you wouldn't let your mates down 'til they had you dusted off,So you closed your eyes and thought about somethin' else.

The posts are set out below, with three people writing more expansively.

Stephen Lake

I'll go with the need to be in nature, soak up the scenery and to just be in the moment.

Being in the moment is kind of essential when navigating or finding a new off track way to somewhere. Bushwalking, particularly off track, clears my mind of clutter like nothing else. Neilmny

No phone reception!! Pazzar

Sitting around the fire at the end of the day. Ribuck

The solitude. Tacblades

Just the need to be in nature. Walkon

At first I wanted to get into overnight bushwalking for fitness plus the challenge of being able to leave on foot and to "survive" with what I carry. Then I discovered that I'm happiest when I'm out walking and camping. Being focused and immersed in my Aussie surroundings, away from civilisation. Neo

Being completely aware in the present moment. Devoswitch

Views ...Wildlife encounters ...Incoming nasty weather ...Lungfuls of fresh forest air ... Ofuros

Love the outdoors, helps reset the stress meter, great opportunities to make great memories. Also I'm a sucker for rain, embrace the suck! Taipan821

I go bush because I love the feeling of having a place to yourself. So often these days it's hard to find special places that haven't been loved to death by too many people. Bushwalking gives me the ability to visit this places and spend some time in them. My aim is to leave it exactly as I found it so that others can experience it as I have. Scottyk

The Mount Anne Range shelf camp with Mount Lot in the cloudsScottyk

BWA February 2017 | 67

Venturing into unknown territory Tai

After retiring in 2014 from decades of a desk job I went bushwalking for the first time in April 2016. (It took a while to buy all the gear and be confident enough to join a bushwalking club.)

The anticipation at the beginning of each walk is what I like best. To me each walk is like venturing into unknown territory, never knowing what to expect until the walk is done and dusted.

The sudden feel of a cool breeze on a hot day is bliss.

Water getting into the lunch box while having lunch under the trees in the rain on a cold, wet winter day is priceless.

The balancing act required to keep the feet dry while stepping over wobbly stones on a flooded creek and the final acceptance of the need to wade through ankle deep icy water in full grain leather hiking boots and merino socks all made the walk more challenging. The joy of discovering that walking in wet boots aka mini swimming pools is not too bad after all, and toes remain warm if water is squeezed from your socks is knowledge treasured.

Staying warm and dry while wearing overpriced rain wear eased the conscience a bit.

The self-doubt and asking what am I doing here when the relentless steep ascent and descent kept coming. The feeling of achievement while walking towards the car at the end of the walk and maybe I will book another walk that's a bit harder.

Glorious day at Marions Lookout, Cradle Mountain Tai

68 | BWA February 2017

Freedom to go where I feel like going North-north-west

… and but for the sky there are no fences facing. (His Bobness, Mr Tambourine Man)

I walk for many reasons, not least as therapy. The best things about bushwalking are the freedom to go where I feel like going, the solitude, the beauty, the peace. Exploration - not going somewhere no-one else has been, but simply somewhere new for me, and hopefully by finding my own way there instead of blindly and blithely following someone else's path. Doing that, and coping with whatever the terrain and conditions might throw at you (and, in Tassie, they tend to throw an awful lot) provide a sense of achievement and competence that are almost totally lacking elsewhere in my life.

There's a question that pops up at fairly regular intervals in the forum, and also is asked outside it when people find out you're a serious bushwalker: "Why?"

I once answered that with another quote. (And I'm still not sure who originally said this; I can't find a reference to the line anywhere. Even Google can't help.) "Walking isn't a way of going somewhere, it's a way of being somewhere." It's my favourite way of being places; wild places, especially. You don't have to go fast or far, just meander along hither, thither and yon, immersed in a landscape whose details change with every

step but which is as close to being timeless as anything can be in this world.

But the best thing about it ... there are times, mostly on mountains for me, when I've struggled and sweated and sworn and stumbled my way, alone, to a summit or lookout. It might have taken just an hour or so, it might have taken a week or more to get there, but that doesn't matter. All that matters at that time is the being; being there, in that place, at that time, so totally a part of the place and time that you've achieved something like the Buddhist nirvana and are not only at peace with yourself and the world, but a part of the world, of the universe, subsumed within it. Aware but unconcerned. You soar - your mind, your whole awareness is outside of yourself. There is no pain, no discomfort, just glory. Something beyond joy. "And thus I am absorbed, and this is Life."

To sit on rocks - to muse o'er flood and fell,To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell,And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been;To climb the trackless mountain all unseen,With the wild flock that never needs a fold;Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean;This is not Solitude, 'tis but to holdConverse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unrolled. Byron, Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto II, Stanza XXV.

First light from camp up to Hartz and Snowy. The whole world's at your feet, slowly unveiling itself. Why wouldn't you walk?North-north-west

BWA February 2017 | 69

A feeling of calmness, nostalgia, and of just belonging there Nicolas BertinI used to hate hiking when I was a kid. Every year my parents took my brother and me to the Pyrénées. When you're a kid, you don't understand scenery. I also used to get nasty blisters after a few hours of walking, and I'd be unable to walk for days.

When I was 27 I moved to Melbourne and everything changed. First of all, I enjoyed the amazing wildlife, and the joys of camping. In Australia you can camp in the bush, and at least at the time in 2011 it was still inexpensive to camp in Victoria. I started to enjoy solo bushwalking, buying maps, guidebooks, looking at where to go next. I love the bush and most of all wildlife. I became descent at birdwatching, loved bumping into kangaroos, echidnas, emus etc ... I basically blew all my money on travelling all over Australia: Western Australia, the Top End, New South Wales, and my favorite, Tasmania. There's a feeling of

calmness, nostalgia, and of just belonging here I haven't found anywhere else in the world. I've also enjoyed motivating friends to go with me in the bush. It's a great feeling to show people places they miss by being too timid to just go there.

Coming back to France, I found a job in Grenoble. That meant the walking bug I had developed needed another way of feeding itself in the French Alps. This is real mountain hiking, with daily climbs of up to 1500 metres, commonly 1000 metres. I got used to it, and now I hike all year, snowshoeing in winter, using crampons in late autumn when there's ice on the tracks. I never regret going for a walk, you'll always find something. It can be a close encounter with wildlife, a great view that impacts you deeply, the opportunity of showing foreign friends how great your country looks, finding traces of ancient cultures, and more. It's just a big part of my life now, and having to change job soon, again, my first criterion is "is it close to great walking tracks?"

Near Col de l'Iseran in Vanoise, FranceNicolas Bertin