The Driver

It is almost time to get back in the car. In fact, today is the first of 8 consecutive days where I will drive at least 150 km each day - and the 8 days will add up to around 4,500. It gets serious on Wednesday when the family and I set off for Queensland for a family wedding on the weekend. Since my wife's family are in Queensland and mine in Melbourne, ever since we first met whilst we were both living in Sydney, we have travelled lots just to keep in touch. Sometimes it is a major pest - but mostly, it is a great opportunity to change states for a break...

The truth is I love to drive. I love to see the country and love to watch it unfold and change as you move on past in the car. Perhaps one of the most significant driving days I have had was Christmas Day in 1987 was the first time I drove interstate between capitals non-stop. After doing all the things I needed to in the morning, I left Melbourne early in the afternoon, and with the roads super-quiet, I cruised all the way up to Sydney to visit my sister. It was the longest day I had ever driven, and as I headed in through the south-western suburbs of Sydney, the odometer ticked up to 1,000 kms since I had begun the morning at Cheltenham. A thousand kilometres in a day - had a nice ring to it! The TKD (thousand kilometre day) became something of a brand mark for long drives, and I decided to keep a look-out for them.

It was eight months until I got to do another one, and this time I did twice in a row. I wrote down the details and began to keep a bit of a list, which eventually became a complex Excel spreadsheet and statistical analysis tool... as of today, I have done 91 of them, and my forward plans indicate there could be as many as 12 in the next 12 months. The long term objective of 100 TKD's could tick up next July!

Over the next week, Wednesday could easily be a TKD, because the plan is to leave here and drive to Coonabarabran. And Monday next week could be number 93, when we plan to leave Toowoomba and drive right through back to Melbourne. With my in-laws living in Toowoomba, we have done this trip a fair bit. Not that we always do the 1,550 kms or so in a single day, but 14 times we have. The Newell is very familiar territory.

One aspect of long drives for me is keeping a mental focus. I use all sorts of "tricks" to give me things to be working on and thinking about while driving. If I notice my mind starting to drift, then it is time for a stop, a refresh, and so on. One of those tricks is the TKD concept itself - keeping statistical track of how far how often gives me a lot to think about as I drive. I confess the "power nap" concept has never been one to work for me. If I stop the car to have a little break, I discover my brain is abuzz and there is no thought of sleeping. Only once do I remember pushing myself to drive past safe limits - it was pretty stupid. The fact I got away with it doesn't make it better. I have an agreement with my wife that there won't be a repeat of that night!

So - it's back on the road shortly. Can hardly wait!

one BIG rock

Here's a question for you; name the big rock located in outback Australia regarded as the largest single rock in the world, that provides a challenging climb to the summit and some great exploratory opportunities around its base? While you're thinking about the answer - let me tell you a bit about an exciting trip I had to visit it.

I had known about the rock for years, but it came sharply back into focus for me when one of these television travelog shows visited there in early 2002. They pointed out that despite the remote location, there was now a tourist complex nearby and lots to do when you get there. In fact my trip there was already planned, but it became that bit more exciting to see it on TV, hear stories about the aboriginal dream-time stories associated with it, and to hear about some of the panoramas it and its surrounding desolate country present. Particularly impressive were the sunset views! A couple of months later, four friends and I jumped in my 4-wheel drive and off we set to cover the immense distance to reach it. Leaving Melbourne, we headed up through Adelaide and Port Augusta, and then west across into WA, bypassing Perth and heading north up the coast...

And for the guy in the second row with his hand up, no, we weren't lost. It wasn't THAT rock we were going to. The answer to the question is not Uluru, but Mount Augustus. If the two of them stood side by side, you would be amazed at the difference. Augustus is twice as high, and almost three times longer. It is five times further around the base and has gorges and pounds, dwarfing the geography of its more famous cousin. As for location - it is much more remote. Around 500 km inland from Carnarvon on dusty tracks, and if you want to drive on to somewhere after that, it gets even worse.

I had high expectations going to Mt Augustus, because I have a real love of Uluru. And, I have to say, if it wasn't for the comparison, I would have been more impressed. Augustus is a remarkable place and the walks are genuinely fascinating, but if you have to compare it with the experience of going to Uluru, it comes off second-best. A few factors influence this; it is not as steep sided and therefore less imposing despite being much bigger; and it is often quite vegetated, so you miss the dramatic colours of the bare stone of Uluru.

As for facilities, well - it is still pretty primitive! The tourist complex is basic, and the roads pretty rough. The day we arrived they had run out of fuel - hoping that the tanker would make it in the next day. When he did, they charged 15 cents per litre more than the next station 50 km down the road. The local mechanic had recently "done a runner on them" and taken most of the tools with him, so their garage was sorely ill-equipped and inexperienced. The day I left Mt Augustus, heading cross country to Tom Price, I wrecked 3 tyres in the space of a bad couple of hours somewhere on the Pingandy Road!

Still, I am very pleased to have been there, and hope to go back some time when I have a little more time up my sleeve and just slightly better set up than last time. Coupled with the nearby (well - 300 km away!) Kennedy Ranges, it is a part of the country that makes owning a 4WD worthwhile. But you will enjoy it far more if you don't go there intent on comparing it with Uluru.

Experiencing God

I have been a spiritual person all of my life - by which I mean I have always confidently believed there is more to life than the here and now. Most of my life this spiritual aspect of me has been shaped by the fairly traditional conservative evangelical church environment in which I have spent virtually all of my life. On some occasions, this has broken out into something else.

One such occasion in my youth was when I spent a month in New Zealand living in a small rural village, where the majority of the residents had at least some Mauri blood. They too were Christian, but it was a very different kind of faith to what I had experienced in suburban, (predominantly) white anglo-saxon, church. Faith to them had a currency that initially confronted, and then delighted me. I was surprised (and then surprised that I was surprised) that converations about spiritual issues would come up in virtually any context at any time. It was another surprise that some of these people who oozed spirituality didn't necessarily go to church when the calendar ticked around to Sunday. In fact - despite this life in spirutuality I was experiencing, the church I did go to was much more dead and dreary than my usual experience of church. I confess to spending quite a bit of that month wondering what on earth was going on to the spiritual values I thought I had mastered, and I reckon looking back it was probably pretty good for me.

A couple of weeks back I had the opportunity to attend the launch of Melbourne's bid to host the World Parliament of Religions - to be held in 2009. We are in the running against Singapore and New Delhi, and a group of 5 from Chicago were out to have a look at the bid and make an assessment. And, it seemed, to freely experience quite a bit of the good things about Victoria - all in the name of improving our chances of winning. I struggled a bit with the speeches, wondering if even I (with a bit of a liking for such things) had to experience all this over and over around the world, it might be a bit taxing. But to their credit, the bloke speaking on behalf of the delegation was easily the best and most passionate of the speakers and impressed me.

But the real interest of the evening was talking with some of the others around the room. It was fascinating to see and hear about the faith evolution of various people. Several extremely intelligent, articulate people that I spoke with sounded like they had experienced many of the things I had experienced, but ultimately responded by choosing quite different spiritual paths from the one I am on. They were/are not biggotted, misguided, misinformed, brainwashed, or uninformed. But they had come to a different point to me.

How does that make me feel about my faith journey? Could I be wrong? Might it be me that is miguided or brainwashed or uninformed? Is there still stuff for me to learn and understand? If I can be accused of anything, it is forgetting the fact that this is a journey. And maybe in saying that, I am passing another kilometre post.

Flying visit

I dropped in on Hokkaido yesterday. Fascinating and fantastic place, really. I’d never been there before and in fact had heard very little about it. The northerly of the main islands of Japan, it is separated from Honshu by a tiny strait connecting the Sea of Japan to the Pacific Ocean, only a handful of kilometres wide. And yet, it is a journey to another world. The seething mass of humanity on Japan’s main island – particularly in the super-city of Tokyo, is scarce conceivable as one tours through the tree-covered, unspoilt slopes that give way to snow at barely a few hundred metres above sea level.

The southern-most tip of Hokkaido is a curious little hooked claw reaching to the south, as if it wanted – but just failed – to grasp the larger island to the south. Mostly it is wild mountainous country, although even the highest peaks hardly rate on the usual Japanese scale. Tiny fishing villages cling to the river deltas and narrow coastal plains. A two-lane road makes the perilous trip around the coastline, barely out of reach of the waves for most of the way, occasionally diving through tunnels where the mountains get too steep, all the way presenting breathtaking view after breathtaking view until you wonder if you have any breath left. It is at least as good as our own famous Great Ocean Road, but with much more dramatic engineering. With only a few exceptions, no roads penetrate the interior. Those that do either cling precariously to the steep banks of rushing rivers until they reach a place where the valley flattens out a little – where in typical Japanese fashion, every last square centimetre of flat land is taken up with farming; or else the wind and switch-back up and up until reach some icy mountain peak, presenting spectacular views or the opportunity to indulge in some cross-country skiing - so long as you don't mind the solitude.

Yes – I dropped in on Hokkaido yesterday. And all from my office here in Melbourne. You’ve got to love Google Earth.

It's a beautiful day...

...not. Our obcession about the weather continues to be absolutely short-sighted, it seems. Sunday was a bit wet. In a flash, people are complaining about the rain. Saturday, by contrast was "beautiful" - sunny and warm, and everyone was happy. Somewhere along the way we need to change our tune and decide that wet weather is desparately needed. That truly beautiful weather is a serious wet spell. We are in serious water bother.

My involvement with water levels began when I first experienced Lake Eildon up close and personal, in 1997 during a week on a houseboat. Of course, I had long known of this lake and its variable water levels, typified by how much lake you see above the township of Bonnie Doon as you drive along the Midland Highway. On our houseboating trip that year, the locals "apologised" the the low levels of the water - down to just 68%. We motored under the highway bridge and around Bonnie Doon to a little mooring that turned out to be an old viaduct of the flooded Mansfield railway. We were around 1 km upstream of the township, and fast running out of water.

Ever since we returned our houseboat, the lake has never been that high again. 1997 was a dry year, and Eildon quickly descended below 50%. And, although there was a brief foray about that level in 2000, it has basically remained below 50 ever since. And now, this winter, with the level down to 21% at the start, the usual refilling rains have simply not arrived. Here it is spring, and the irrigators are wanting water, and Eildon contains just 22.5% and falling. Never in its history has the lake been so low at the start of spring. If mathematical models hold up, we are heading for a new record low by Autumn, even lower than the 8.5% of early 2003.

These days I write a weekly column on the lake levels of Eildon published on www.lakeeildon.com, and feel very involved with the entire system. Probably this makes me more aware of water conservation than many, but I am none the less stunned to see the complete lack of interest and involvement shown by most people. Instead of complaining about restrictions, we ought to be desparate to save whatever water we can.

Meanwhile, further north at my wife's hometown of Toowoomba, the population has voted against waste water recycling, apparently because it is "too distasteful". The only alternative is to tighten the restrictions still further on an already ravaged town. The next steps are difficult. It will be Garden City no longer - once outdoor watering is totally banned. I guess people might need to suffer a little more before they realise this issue is serious.

Meanwhile, our lakes disappear... sometime we have to understand there is not the water there used to be.