Carpe Via

We challenged newlyweds Tim and Lee-Fay to see who could cook the most fancy meal while we were camping. Now this is tricky because you can’t take anything like chocolate or cheese that might melt. And you also have to be very mindful of weight in the pack. So on the first night, after an initial flat tire and a late afternoon hike to our idyllic campsite, we dazzled them with our tofu patties, mashed potatoes (from dried mix), and dried peas. We had planned to drizzle it all with gravy but had accidentally left it in the car. But for the final coup d’ etat Charles made Bananas Flambé (technically Bananas Bay due to the fire restrictions). That night we slept smug in our new REI tent knowing the gauntlet had been laid.

Hiking in this part of Australia just like Oregon (a mix of Mt Hood and The Dalles) except for the occasional wombat hole, the goannas, and substitute the Deer for Kangaroos. We started out in the morning to get a jump on the heat and by early afternoon had reached our second campsite complete with a babbling creek and shady trees to lounge under as we napped. Nothing like a good snooze that you’ve earned. Plus Charles and I were feeling pretty pleased with ourselves, having carried in a WHOLE BOTTLE of red wine for the eve’s new years celebration. It was to be the last of our restful sleep for the humiliation began at dusk.

Perhaps we should have suspected when they asked us to dress for dinner, practically offering Charles a loaner jacket, but when we arrived at the previously lowly picnic table we found it set with wine glasses and little printed menus – somehow unscrunched and tied with a bow.

Yes, not only had they carried in their own bottle of red wine but had also pre-mixed Cosmopolitans to go with the pear slices on crackers with blue cheese brie (packed on an ice block for two days). Well and truly beaten before we even began to contemplate Lee-Fay’s main course of sun dried tomato cous cous with olive tapemade and a desert of poached figs and custard. Sigh.

The next morning was another early one and all up hill to start. It’s a good thing that it was Tim’s birthday because the ‘I hate Tim’ club was in full bloom as he bound up the mountain without loosing his breath. At one point he even ran ahead for several miles as we waited at a crossroads, unsure of which trail to take.

But at least the climb was in shade because it turns out that the day was the highest ever recorded. And the last hour was gruelling as we descended in the bald sun in over 112-degree heat. Even though I had drunk a gallon of water, I wasn’t sweating and the pressure pushed through my arms and hands making them swollen and plump. Stopping didn’t help anymore than it would to pause to stand in an oven. And to top it all off I suddenly had to pee. I tried running just to get it over with as it seemed like the bottom of the hill would never be reached. When it finally was, I lay in the shade, gasping for breath and appreciating the beauty of the stark Australian landscape and the spring in Tim’s step as he skipped past us and on ahead to get the car.

Happy birthday dear %&#@. Happy birthday to you.

Another year at the beach house with the Young brood. Charles and I are trying to decide whether to have kids or not, and the question was in the back of my mind as we marinated in the company of the 5 urchins.

The news:

Milly gets Charle’s old train set for Christmas

Charles not very happy about it

Maybe it was just my imagination, but the veiled hints and gentle prodding for us to have a kid appeared to dry up after that.