Sunday, September 13, 2009

Shuttle Bunnies

Today is the boys' day. They are off to paddle the Mitta Mitta Gorge, as befits tradition.

Peter is feeling rather poorly, but since he is unlikely to take a swim, I stay silent.

At the put in we meet the rafting company, training their customers, before getting on the wet stuff. Napoleon faced, they sit in the raft and practice paddling. We watch them put in and wave them goodbye.

Then the boys put in. Pete looks very pale as he plays around in the rapid. Just as Anthony is about to slide off the bank, I grab his shoulder. "I'll be at the Black Duck till midday. You know ... just in case he's not coping." I nod towards Pete, and let go of Anthony. Anthony glides into the water, then turns around in the eddy. "I'll keep an eye on him", he smiles.

We drive to the Black Duck. From the road, the Black Duck is a mere corner, with a turnout big enough for a bus. But down below, it's a huge pool of water, the size of a football field. Black and mysterious. If you've done the upper Mitta, and you're looking for a challenge, you keep paddling to the Black Duck. Then, if you're still in need of an adventure, you paddle the Mitta Mitta gorge.

As I turn out at the Black Duck, Anthony runs up to the car. "We're all good", he says panting. "Go straight to Hinnomunjie bridge." He turns on his heel and runs down. Two strides and he is out of sight. We go onto Hinnomunjie bridge as instructed. Sabina takes her shoes and socks off and plays on the bank of the river, collecting stones, building stone walls.

"Sabina, can you see them yet?", I ask. She stands calf deep in the river, looks downstream, and says "No Mama". I laugh heartily, and point upstream, towards the bridge. "They'll be coming from there."

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Paddling the Cobungra

Morning is a sunny affair. We meet our friends outside, congregate over coffee, and make plans for the day.

The Blue Duck is positioned on the banks of the Cobungra river - a serious white water river that ought to be paddled with respect. But where it passes the Blue Duck, the rapids are small, easy, inviting. Pete and I wander up the bank. We pass three rapids and arrive at a little sand bar. "I think you could paddle this stretch with Sabina", I suggest. Pete's eyes light up. We jog back down the river and investigate the take out. The route is set.

With four adults in attendance, the little girl sits in the orange boat, eating a snack before the trip. Finally, Pete jumps in the boat with her, and they slide gently into the water. The first rapid sends a gush of freezing water into the boat. Sabina gasps. "Papa, it's cold, I want to get out!" Mid river, she proceeds to stand up in the kayak. Pete holds her back. Napoleon faced, she grips the edge of the cockpit with white knuckles.

The second rapid brings a smile. The third rapid another. Gently they eddy out at the take out. Sabina runs joyfully along the sand, dipping her toe in the freezing mountain water, and sending it splashing along the bank.

Friday, September 11, 2009

To Omeo

This weekend we're off to Omeo. Paddling. It's becoming a bit of an annual event. Remember last year's trip? The drive? Racing along the Tambo? Sabina's patient "It's a long way"? Seeing Spirit and Rain? Memories of Winter Classiscs gone by and the Mr Men team?

This year we're driving up together as a family. Mr and Mrs Orange (our boats) on the roof. At Bairnsdale we stop and ride the flying fox. It's still a long way, and darkness descends as we glimpse the Tambo. The wind howls. We drive. "But when will we get there?", quizzes Sabina. The road winds, the Blue Duck lights up. We arrive.

I busy myself preparing dinner, Pete brings things in from the car. Sabina explores. By the time dinner is ready, she has decided she will sleep in the top bunk. After dinner, we still seem to be busy settling in. Sabina tugs at my sleeve. "Mama, there is no bath", she says. "I don't want to shower. Can I just go to bed?" Deep down, I gasp. A child that just wants to go to bed? This is pretty cool. I dig out her pyjamas, and just point out that she must brush her teeth. Minutes later she tucks herself in.

S and R waltz in, baby in one arm, bottle of red in the other. We chill out, sip the wine and joke.

The generator goes off at about 10pm, our guests leave, we hear D and A arrive and settle in next door. A million starts twinkle outside, and a freezing chill sweeps the valley.