Walter the Wombat

Living and working as we do, at the intersection of one of Australia’s biggest National Parks and a thriving ski industry, interactions with the native wildlife are sadly inevitable. I’m not sure of the figures, but based on my own observations hundreds of native animals are killed on our regions roads every year.

Marsupial young can spend up to a year in their mothers pouch and then longer learning the nuances of life from their mother. Often the death of a female would lead to the death of its offspring. However, if the pouch is checked at the time of an accident and with a lot of luck the orphan can be saved.

LAOKO (Looking After Our Kosciuszko Orphans) is a wildlife rescue group of trained volunteers who assist in the rescue and care of native wildlife in the Snowy Mountains region. The group also assist in the raising of native orphans and rehabilitating them for release back into the wild. Quite a few of my colleagues are members of LAOKO and its not uncommon to see the odd joey jumping around the office.

Late last year Walter the wombat was given to my colleague Carmen to raise, ill let her tell her story….

“Walter came to me when he was just 600 grams and probably about 4 months old, just lightly furred and starting to regulate his own body temperature - two things which meant his chances of survival were pretty good. I fed him 6 times a day around the clock for the first 7 weeks til he finally hit 1kg in weight, then I could drop to 5 feeds a day, and later just 4 feeds. When he was not fully furred and feeding more often he mostly stayed in his pouch.

600g and poorly

Drink up little guy

Big claws even at this age

Not sure what's doing here, ear massage perhaps?

Hello, inquisitive Walter

A joey under 1 kilo is like a new born baby and has to be kept sterile; even washing and sterilising all bottles and teats, and boiling water to make up milk.

Rude Walter

As he got older and more adventurous, Walter liked to explore all around the house including under beds and in cupboards. He liked to nibble on feet and often wanted to climb up onto the lounge to sit with me and explore even more. Because Walter operates strongly on his sense of smell he could usually find me wherever I was in the house. He'd even come and find me in bed at night. This is because he has excellent olfactory senses and is nothing to do with me being stinky!

Bed time

Funny sight around the office

  

Enjoying the outdoors

I had Walter for 5 months in total and when he left me he weighed 3.8 kilos and was fully furred, and starting to enjoy time outside to eat grass and dirt. He also enjoyed eating rolled oats, shoelaces and cardboard. He has gone to another carer and is now buddied up with another wombat, to learn to socialise and de-humanise a little. He will eventually be released back into the bush (probably not near a National Park though, usually on a LAOKO carers property out Berridale - Cooma way). I have heard he's getting along well with his new wombat friend and has put on another kg, so I'm guessing he'd be about 5kg now.

I joined LAOKO as a volunteer over a year ago and Walter was the first animal I cared for.”

Walter and mummy, look at those claws now!

Hopefully he will grow up to be as big as this guy.

Big fat Common wombat

The Schlink Pass 4 Hut Challenge

I bought myself a bike a few weeks ago. A proper bike too, not a $150 special with no front brakes like my last one. Since I got my new baby, a Giant XTC 29er (incidentally, how awesome are 29ers!) I have been getting out and about on the trails around Jindabyne and the Kosciuszko National Park. Last week a sunny Sunday presented me with the opportunity to do a ride I have been thinking about for awhile, I’m going to call it the The Schlink Pass 4 Hut Challenge.

I parked at the Munyang Power Station and started up Munyang-Geehi Rd. The ride begins with a heart starter 300m vertical ascent from the Snowy River to the montane forests above. Despite my flash bike I was struggling by the last switchback and stopped to “take some photos” of the hydro power generation pipes.

The climb to start, much more fun on the return journey

Its not a water slide its Snowy Hydro infrastructure

After considerably reducing the number of beats my heart has left in it, I claimed the ridge and enjoyed some nice downhills and flats to the turn for my first hut of the day, Horse Camp Hut. As a relatively “low hanging fruit” this was my fourth visit to Horse Camp. As usual I admired the bright red door and peaceful setting.

Hut number 1 for the day

Holly’s entry in the log book after our Christmas card debacle

I walked the bike up a steep little hill behind the hut and met up with the Snowy Hydro aqueduct trail. Snowy Hydro don’t miss much, every little stream had a sluice gate directing water into the aqueduct.

I continued along the aqueduct trail and eventually met back up with the Munyang-Geehi Rd.

Near the intersection with the main Munyang-Geehi Rd.

As I turned onto the road I noticed two people jogging around 100m behind me. I put in some solid pedals but to my horror, they were gaining on me (jogging, remember I am on some super-duper bike). Just as they were about to catch me I took the turn to Whites River Hut, the second on my list for the day. The joggers turned off the main road and started on the hut access road, still gaining on me. It was now that I came across Whites River, (from which the hut gets its name) I took some speed into the crossing and made it to the other side. The water nearly came up to the top of my fancy 29 inch wheels. I turned back to see the joggers stuck on the other side of the river, there was no way they were getting across, I was saturated but had defeated them.

Whites River Hut was built in the 1930’s but was partially burnt down in July 2010 by an errant stove. My friend Dougs recently rebuilt the hut with some assistance from volunteers.

After a quick bite to eat it was back across the river and I continued north and up to Schlink Pass at 1804m.

It was a nice gentle downhill for a km or so to hut number 3, affectionately known as the Schlink Hilton owing to its size. The hut has number of rooms and even a slow combustion fireplace. A working bee was in full effect and I got back on the road after a quick lunch before someone handed me a paintbrush.

These guys had special access, cars are not normally permitted

After climbing uphill for pretty much the whole day, I welcomed a few km of fast downhill heading south from Schlink Pass. It wasn’t long however before I once again detoured from the Munyang-Geehi Rd to take another aqueduct trail, Disappointment Spur, to my final hut for the day.

Riding along I started to notice large numbers of Flightless Mountain Grasshoppers on the trail and I was doing my best not to hit the funny insects. Incredibly slow moving, both the females and males are flightless, although the males can manage a sort of jump to get away from predators. The females are particularly fat and dung looking. They do have one defence however, an amazing brightly covered back side that they will happily show you (if you continually try to poke them like I did).

Females and male flightless mountain grasshoppers

Attempting to avoid squashing the grasshoppers I came across Disappointment Hut, my final hut for the day. Also known as ‘Aqueduct Shelter Number 2’ it was built in the 1950’s. I was hoping that the name was intended to be satirical but it was not to be, the hut is indeed a bit of a disappointment. It has only one room with a double bunk and no fire place or nearby running water. It did have a certain quaintness however and if you look through the burnt out trees the view was pretty nice.

Hanging around Disappointment Hut were large numbers of Kosciuszko Grasshoppers. These little guys getter brighter as the day gets hotter. Judging by the iridescent greens and blues on display, they were running pretty hot. Seems it was a day for the insects as I didn't see any snakes and only the occasional macropods.

Kosciuszko grasshoppers and unimpressed hairy caterpillar

With my objectives achieved for the day I had a great ride down Disappointment Spur burning the vertical metres I had claimed in the morning.

View over to the perisher range

My ride ended back at the Munyang Power Station, around 24km. The Snowy Hydro boys were gearing up to make some power.

Patience / Gravlax

Life need not always be fast. Something’s, indeed sometimes the most rewarding things take time. I’m as impatient as anyone in today’s hyper digital age, I get frustrated if my computer takes to long to boot up or if I cop a few red lights in row. Rewarding pursuits need also not be about peak bagging, new gear or surfing good waves. Sometimes I am inspired to do something that takes a bit of time.

Recently retired from a long and hard working career as a lawyer, my Dad is currently embracing this ethos with vigour. I’m not sure how he got into it, but Dad is really keen on gravlax. Meaning literally “buried salmon”, gravlax is a traditional Nordic and Scandinavian method of curing salmon. Over the past year Dad has experimented with different ingredients and now has a few different delicious recipes up his sleeve. He is getting so good at it he now sells it in my cousins cafe where it is served on fresh bread with poached eggs.

Having tasted my Dad’s gravlax, I was pretty keen to try the real thing when I visited Helsinki last year. Wandering around the waterfront I was lured into many deli’s serving the delicious Lohi.

Back in Jindabyne and the fishing has been pretty good in our elevated la nina lake. Stories of giant browns and rapidly met bag limits pervade town. On a clear autumn evening I went down to a little bay in front of our house to try my luck.

Not a bad spot to wet a line

It wasn't long before I got a great hit and hooked up a trout. The fish gave a good fight and eventually I landed it and doinked it on the head.

The roos were impressed

With all the gravlax'ing going on over the past year, I was keen to make some of my own. I fist gutted, filleted and deboned the fish. Having no dill at home, a crucial ingredient, I left the fillets in the fridge over night. After work the next day I drove to town and picked up some dill which I finely chopped and then mixed with vodka, coarse sea salt and white sugar.

  

 I laid out some cling wrap and spread some of the mixture. I then put the fish on skin down, liberally smeared more of the mix and the rolled it all up in the cling wrap and put it in the fridge.

  

A day later it was time to unwrap my gravlax. Again testing my skills with the filleting knife I attempted to finely slice the fillet. I hacked it a bit but got some nice thin slices going.

Now, if I was from northern Europe the slices probably would have gone on some fresh rye bread or be served with potatoes but being of Italian decent it was pappardelle pasta with some more dill and rocket for me.

We ate our pasta in the front of the fire*.

I really enjoyed the whole process of curing my fish, kind of organic. By the way, 1hr fishing, 3 days prep and 10 minutes eating! Now I have to go burn off the carbs…

*it snowed yesterday, winter is on its way.

Japan 2012: All headlights so dazzling

“All nights should be so dark, all winters so warm, all headlights so dazzling." Martin Cruz Smith, Gorky Park

I've been a bit quiet on the blog front for the past couple of weeks. Honestly, I have been struggling with how to write about my time in Japan. The path through life throws up some interesting challenges; relationships, friendships, love, regret, stress, happiness and probably the hardest, death.

I started reading Gorky Park while in Japan. A Dickensian insight into communist era Russia, my Father had given me a beat up old copy. Relaxing on my hard Japanese bed after another epic day of skiing I was immediately struck by the first line in the book (reproduced above). Dark and sombre, strong and effusive… oxymoronic.

Skiing and travelling around Japan this year was everything it is cracked up to be. Epic snow (the word epic does not give the conditions justice), delicious food, amazing culture and good times with friends. However, it won’t be for these aspects that I will remember the trip. On our final evening, after celebrating a successful trip, a member of our group fell down a steep embankment into a creek while walking home and tragically passed away from the injuries he sustained. A freak accident that has reverberated throughout the tight nit communities of the Australian Snowy Mountains, the Gold Coast and the ski villages of Niseko United.

I had only just met Fitzy, but I wont forget his infectious smile and easy going outlook on life. Fitzy, if only all were so dazzling.