Dear Miranda,

Looked for you everywhere. 

Had a lovely picnic though.

Dear George, Sandy and that pitcher of Sam Adams Summer Ale,

Midway is a small local bar in the middle of Ashford, CT.  It is also the place where 10 months ago, a homesick Aussie made a promise to the two people sitting on either side of her at the bar that if they came to Australia, her dad would take them on an outback adventure.  Lots of hypothetical plans have been made at midway over the years.  Only one that I know of ends up like this:

Welcome to Outback, New South Wales!

Where emu's roam, ancient human (and mega fauna) remains abound, and you can actually see the curve of the earth over the Mundy Mundy Plains.  And don't even get me started on the flies.  

Before heading off into the red center, however, we had to await the arrival of our third member of the Summer Ale pact: Denise.  And her arrival couldn't have been planned better, as St. Patrick's Day was just around the corner.  So we did what we are good at and celebrated in style:

In fact, we made such a big impact in the land down under...we made the local news.  Yep, we are kind of a big deal. 

And thus began our outback adventures!  Our first stop was Mungo National Park home to the remains of a people who lived over 50,000 years ago.  And also home to a lot of flies.  Now, I don't want to distract from the historical importance of Mungo Lake, but it is a little hard to think clearly when there are about 50 flies crawling into your mouth, up your nose and over your eyeballs.  In fact, it's pretty hard to do anything other than this:

Luckily, Craig came prepared:

Ahhhh....much better!

Now, properly attired, we headed further into the center.  Passing gigantic wedge-tailed eagles, flocks of rare red-tailed cockatoos and who knows what else was hiding out there...

After about 1000 km cruising along the mighty Murray River and up the Darling, we landed in our ultimate destination: Broken Hill.  Anyone that has had the great fortune of seeing Priscilla Queen of the Desert will remember Broken Hill from the epic standoff in the Palace Hotel between the local miners and the Sydney drag queens.  Today, the actual broken hill, sitting just on the edge of town, has been turned completely inside out, a reminder of the former glory of the mining town. While a few mines still run, they are mostly shut down relics like this one

Strangely enough, in the place of the old mining boom, Broken Hill and its surrounding have found themselves in the center of a new art boom.  The pinnacle of which being the Broken Hill Sculpture Garden.  Armed with champagne, cheese and crackers (typical miner's fare) we made it to the site just in time for sunset.

Other highlights from the trip included: a visit to the Royal Flying Doctors Service hangar, a class session of the School of the Air (computer based schooling for isolated farm children), Silverton (think mad max), and of course some sand dune shenanigans:

Believe it or not, after a month based in Victoria, the return from Broken Hill marked the end of my time with the Iskovs.  A sad day indeed.  But thank you, thank you, thank you to Craig, Kay, Megan, Brylie and Richard for putting up with me and offering me a home quite literally on the other side of the world.

Dear Japhy (and Kat and Dave)

"Ah Japhy, you taught me the final lesson of them all, you can't fall off a mountain."

-Jack Kerouac Dharma Bums

I am not a huge Kerouac fan.  And I am even less of a fan of people who quote Jack Kerouac on travel blogs.  But recently, as I was scaling boulders solo on the peak of Cradle Mountain, this quote resonated in my head.  I'm not sure if it was supposed to be comforting or if it was more of an internal taunt.  Nevertheless,  it did the trick and my reward was this incredible view of the Tasmanian Western Wilderness.

But I have jumped the gun a bit.  Rewind to the first week of March when I am trying to plan a driving trip from Brisbane to Sydney.  Enter cyclone.  Exit that idea.  Luckily, Kay Iskov (Megan's mum (I'm getting good as at Aussie slang by the way)) suggested Tasmania as an option.  Now, as an American here is what I know about Tasmania:

And that about sums it up.  So as you can imagine...there was a certain amount of intrigue.  Fastforward now, and I am sitting in a huge botanical garden in a quaint little seaside port on the southern coast of Tasmania with cockatoos flying over my head trying to decide which of the "60 Great Bushwalks" in the more than 20 national parks I would try to hit in my week-long circumnavigation of what I would soon coin: "Nature's best kept secret."  With no time to waste, I headed to my first chosen destination:   

Cape Huay, Tasman Peninsula, Tasman National Park

Believe me, it's even higher than it looks.  Which is particularly harrowing when you consider the fact that I was racing sunset and spent the last 45 minutes of my bushwalk in the dark.  After a great start, I set off up the coast and found a great place to camp right on the beach.  Ultimately, I hit nine national parks in five days.  Here are just some of the highlights:

Tasmanian Devil Crossing, Tasman Peninsula

Apparently they are real...and ferocious!

Wineglass Bay, Freycinet National Park

Often ranked as one of the world's top 10 beaches

Douglas Apsley National Park

Where I may or may not have gotten scared of snakes and turned around...

Bay of Fires Conservation Area

At sunset the rocks glow orange and red and if you take enough picture your camera will run out of batteries....oops.

Cradle Mt. from Dove Lake, Cradle Mountain National Park

My hike went from where I took this photo to the top of the first hill on the right, back behind to the base of Cradle Mt., up to the furthest peak to the right, back down to the dip of the cradle, across to the peak on the left and then back down around the left hand side of the lake.

Cradle Mt. Summit Trail Marker, Cradle Mt. National Park

You can't fall off a mountain, but you can roll your ankle twice once you've gotten back down to the bottom.  Thank God for icy mountain streams...

Dove Lake from the Cradle, Cradle Mt. National Park

Day 74 is definitely in my top 5

Fallen Log over River, Wild Rivers National Park

Let's face it...not every timed shot can be a winner.

Platypus Bay, St. Clair National Park

Platypus observation is great...you should try it...it's very similar to dancing with ferries and riding unicorns, all you need is some water and a couple free hours to waste staring into oblivion.  But make sure you are very very quiet...we wouldn't want to scare away all the nothings.

Mt. Field National Park

If you want to see Australian wildlife, Tasmania is the place to be.  Wombats, echidnae, wallabies, yellow-tailed cockatoos, kangaroos, quolls (Hey, Megan...did you hear I saw a quoll?) and of course my buddy the pademelon.  This guy let me hang out with him from about 2 feet away while he munched on the grass.

Strathgordon, Southwest National Park

This place is so remote that the only radio station I got on either AM or FM was in Spanish.  Bromas aparte.

Basically, I loved Tasmania.  And, to be honest, I think a big part of it has to do with the fact that in all its beauty and diversity...it kept reminding me of all of my favorite parts of Washington.  This is a place to re-connect to the outdoors and experience the fullness of nature.  Forgive me, but I feel a Kerouac quote emerging:

"I felt like lying down by the side of the trail and remembering it all. The woods do that to you, they always look familiar, long lost, like the face of a long-dead relative, like an old dream, like a piece of forgotten song drifting across the water, most of all like golden eternities of past childhood or past manhood and all the living and the dying and the heartbreak that went on a million years ago and the clouds as they pass overhead seem to testify (by their own lonesome familiarity) to this feeling."

-Jack Kerouac Dharma Bums

 

And while I never did come across one of these:

I did get the opportunity to meet this fella:

"In fact with one of my greatest leaps and loudest screams of joy I came flying right down to the edge of the lake and dug my sneakered heels into the mud and just fell sitting there, glad. Japhy was already taking his shoes off and pouring sand and pebbles out. It was great. I took off my sneakers and poured out a couple of buckets of lava dust and said,  'Ah Japhy, you taught me the final lesson of them all, you can't fall off a mountain.'

'And that's what they mean by the saying, When you get to the top of a mountain keep climbing, Smith.'"

Dear Becky Haynes,

In 3rd grade, I wrote a gripping report on "The Eastern Grey Kangaroo."  Now, it may not have sold a million copies, but after working tirelessly to cut out photocopies of kangaroos and paste them to multi-colored construction paper, I must admit that Miss Connelly deemed it worthy of  a check/plus (that's right...a check/PLUS). Frankly, I'm kind of an expert on the matter.  So you can imagine my sheer joy upon touching Australian soil*** for my first time and beginning what shall hitherto be reffered to as: 

THE GREAT KANGAROO HUNT

 (feel free to clap)

At the airport I met my co-conspirator and local terrain expert, Megan Iskov.  With no time to waste we hit the road and headed North-East into roo country.  My eyes were peeled as we headed through open farm land, or what the locals refer to it as "the bush."  Third grade research had told me it would take a keen eye and super intuitive knowledge to spot one of these graceful creatures.  What third grade research left out, is that I would see multiple "sleeping" on the side of the road all the way to Wangaratta... 

Of course, "sleeping" kangaroos don't count in:

THE GREAT KANGAROO HUNT

so on we drove.  Carefully.  The next day, Megan had the brilliant idea of heading up to the top of Mount Pilot to get a survey of the territory.  Perhaps with a little luck we might spot a roving band of roos down below down under.  (get it?)  No Roos, but we did get a spectacular view:

And our first big break in the case:

Fresh roo marks!  We were on the right track.  After the hike, we headed back to basecamp:  Doon Kuna Farm in Byawatha, Victoria...and home to the most welcoming and wonderful family I could ever have imagined.  So inviting in fact that the whole lot of them joined 

THE GREAT KANGAROO HUNT

dedicating their time and efforts to finding an Eastern Grey.  Barbed wire be damned....we were going to find one.

However, after a series of failed foot-based expeditions, I decided it was time to step it up...and hit the backroads on wheels.  Surely, with speed on my side, I would be able to track one down.

Biking on unsealed roads in the heat of the Australian sun is a slightly different endeavour than the New England roadbiking I am accustomed to...but with a little extra effort, I made it about 10 miles out into the mountains to a little place called:  Kangaroo Crossing. 

Truly, prospects were grim.  Meanwhile, back at Doon Kuna, a plan of attack was hatching.  Apparently, sunset is the best time to see wild kangaroos; as most of the day they stay hidden, resting in the shade.  With the 4-wheel drive freshly back from the shop...we weren't going to leave anything to chance.  If only we could just get some sort of sign, something to tell us we were on the right track.  And then it happened, yes, the moment you have all been eagerly waiting for:

Roo Poo!!!!!!!!

Spirits refreshed, Megan and I set out toward where the sun ducked behind the Warbies.  In no time at all, we chanced upon a small group of Eastern Greys just off the side of the road.  

(Photo thanks to Megan Iskov)

And with that,

THE GREAT KANGAROO HUNT

came to a spectacular close.  

Epilogue:

Since the end of the great kangaroo hunt,  I have grown very close to the kangaroos (practically becoming one myself) and while I still have yet to make into the pouch, Becky....I have very high hopes that with time, I will be taken in as "just one of the roos" 

*** Unfortunately, Australia also meant parting ways with my two-month travel companions, Justin and Emily. Many many thanks to both for helping me get on my backpacker feet.  I miss you guys and hope that your travels have continued to be as amazing as mine were with you!