Skiing and the Base Sax

My apologies to all my faithful followers. At the end of the last blog entry I said there would be another one soon. It was meant to be about my first ski trip to Lake Mountain, back on June 13th. But as we all know life goes by so fast and It's been a just over a month since I logged on to blogspot.

The ski trip was good. Nothing like skiing in around Mt. Hood. There was only about 14" of snow to begin with and the forest was gum trees not evergreens. It was over run with families sledding and tourist that had never seen snow. $35 to get into the national park and $12 to get a ski pass. Much more than the $5 Corina, Ed and I are used to paying. I skied about 8km (5 miles) and only fell twice. Considering it had been over year since I was on skis I didn't think that was too bad. After this weekend the snow melted and the places with snow are more than a 4 hours drive from the city. I do have another trip planned with my work mates at URS for August 22nd and will try to be better about making a posting. So for now enjoy the photos and I'm not going to go into my usual lengthy dissertation about every detail of the trip. (some of you are saying THANK GOD! I know)

The real reason I finally got on line and did a blog update (besides the guilt hanging over my head) was I went to buy a new mouth piece for my saxophone, today. My skill level has improved and it was time to invest in this critical hard resin item that is so crucial to being able to make full, well rounded notes on my instrument. Several weeks ago I stopped by Melbourne Brass and Woodwind to test the pieces out and try to decide which would be best for me. Eric Budd, the Sax Salesman was very helpful. Along with some guidance from my instructor, Andrew Brooks, and my band mates I settled on a Selma C-star for $190 and a new ligature, another $50. Upon entering the store today I noticed they had a big Base sax in the window. Being the inquisitive person that I am (ok more like nosey) I checked the price. There was a big ? on the tag. Eric explained that particular sax was owned by a collector and if someone made him and offer he would consider it. You know I had to ask what kind of offer would be acceptable and Eric replied Around $45,000 AU! Translated into US dollars at a fair rate of 80 cents is $36,000! That made me let go of the tag in a hurry! Eric did mention they had one in the back sax room for a mere $11,000 AU (US $8,800). We went to the back of the store and I tried out 3 mouth pieces and a couple type of ligatures (they hold the reed on the instrument) Once I had made my choice we chatted for a few minutes and I asked Eric if I could play the cheaper Base sax. Since these things cost as much as cars a test drive is not out of the question. He grab a synthetic reed and mouth piece and move it up to a chair for me. I was hesitant to move it myself and it's too big to actually big up. All I can say was it was AWESOME beyond words!!! As you can tell from the shit eating grin (sorry grandma but it was just that cool!) on my face I was very excited. I played a little ditty Meg (my first instructor) had taught me back in Portland. something I play a lot when just warming up or wanting to close my eyes and really enjoy myself. I can't tell you how cool this was! By far the most exciting thing that has happened to me this month and I had to get on line and tell you about it!

Things on the horizon for me are the before mentioned ski trip with the office. Then in early September I'm taking Tommy the Tank into Central Southern Australia (the state) and to Coober Pedy. A small opal mining town where in the movie Priscilla Queen of the Dessert, Felicia gets punched when a bogan (redneck) miner figures out she's a drag queen. Now I won't be in drag and occasionally can keep my gayness in check. (No laughing Phyllis! I can do it! I think anyway) so I should be ok. This will be my first trip into the center of Australia and to the famed Outback. I'll try to do a blog entry for the ski trip before I leave on the road trip but there's only 5 days between so I make no promises.

I better do some birthday wishes now while I can.

July 20th was Robin Elliott's birthday, July 21st was my dad's, August 7th is John's, my LITTLE brother who will be 39!!!!! and August 22 is Chris Hall's. I'm sure there's someone else I'm forgetting and you know I wish you the best.

Winter Camping in Australia

It’s not like winter camping in Oregon or Connecticut that’s for sure! For one thing the seasons change at the beginning of the month here, not at the equinox like in other parts of the world. So June 1st is what they call the first day of winter. Quite unlike Oregon where the first day of summer ins’t until July 5th! Then there’s the lack of actual freezing temperatures and snow in most parts of the state. The hills to the northeast of Melbourne do get snow and the highest peak being Mt Buller (pronounced Bulla) is 1850m (6070’). A respectable height east of the Mississippi, but barely into the foothills of the Rockies and Cascades mountain ranges of the west. On this particular weekend the temperatures were in the mid 40’s at night and around 60 during the day. More like a nice fall day to most of you not winter at all.
It’s the Queen’s Birthday weekend. Not her real birthday and not even my birthday but a long holiday weekend none the less and I’ll take any chance I can get to get out of town to a national park. On Thursday evening my friend Dean (and No, he’s NOT my boyfriend) decided to come along for the adventure after much pleading on my part. We left for our 3 hour drive on Saturday morning with hope of making it to Wilson’s Promontory National Park by early afternoon. Being a holiday weekend all the good spots would be taken early and I had my mind set on a small group of sites tucked into the trees and away from the main 200 tent sites line up in rows out in a open field. The day was over cast and rain showers had been predicted. As we set out I informed Dean that Tommy’s heater fan recently crapped out and we would be without heat for the weekend. Not to worry I brought lots of blankets and for me it’s not really that cold here. I don’t think I’ll be saying that next winter.
Our drive was pleasant, Dean giving directions from my new Melways (a 8x11 map book of the entire metropolitan area used by literally everyone here) and me driving down the freeway. I was very happy to have someone coming along with me. The banter was trivial, caddy, insightful, deliciously fun and endless. Just like 2 gay guys can do when no one else is listening. Of course we missed our exit and it took several more before we even noticed. As we made our way from the big city through the smaller suburbs and finally into the tiny towns of rural Victoria the natural beauty surrounds you and reminded me of why I like to get out on the road so much. We stopped in Leongatha for lunch, some groceries and booze. Contemplating on the sexuality of all the hot guys in this little town in hushed whispers so not to get our asses kicked. We arrived at the gate house entrance to the park about 1pm obtained our visitor’s permit. Then drove the remaining 25km to the tiny town of Tidal River. Which is really just a general store and the ranger station in a single building surrounded by family style lodges, the tent sites and RVs. Along the way we saw some of the damage done by the fires back in March and our first glimpses of the Indian Ocean. We did manage to get the a camping spot tucked into the trees, away from most of the crowds. Being the last spot it was next to the toilets and along the road. Which at first didn’t seem that great to Dean but I informed him of the unwritten camping rule, stating you don’t cut through someone else’s back yard and now we have our own private short cut to the facilities. While the road gives us something to look at as the people stroll by. I pulled the truck into one side of the spot. Strung a tarp over the top and attached it with bungee cords to the nearby trees . Then sewed another tarp to one side making our little home in the woods more private. Immediately the locals started coming for a visit. We got to see several beautiful Rosella birds. A member of the parrot species. These bright red and vibrant blue birds are quite accustom to people and know how cute they are . Several birds landed on the trees and then made their way closer and closer to us, resting a short 3 feet from us and then patiently waited for us to feed him something. Of course I fell for it completely and gave them some salt and vinegar rice crackers we were snacking on. This type of Rosella is very common outside of the cities and the bright vibrant colours are always wonderful to see so close up.
As dusk approached (around 5:30) you could hear the calls of the Kookaburras in the trees. These large members of the kingfisher family sound more like howling monkeys than some bird. One came within 5 feet of us A little later in the evening 4 of them perched themselves in the bare branches above our heads and made their calls for about several minutes.
We were also visited that evening by a native creature I have heard about and seen many pile of poo from on my various trips. Most notable my Cradle Mountain Adventures from New Years. The elusive, only to me, cute cuddly, vegetarian with nasty claws a Wombat! Another camper noticed him walking down the dirt road as I tried to get pictures of the flock of Kookaburras and pointed him out to me. This plump burrowing marsupial came plodding along through the scrub brush right into our camp, Looking for a hand out too. He drew quite the crowd as all the children young and old from neighboring sites came into our area to see him. Dean and I were just sitting down to some hot cocoa and we think the smell may have attached him. There are signs in several places telling campers not to feed these cute furry guys. So this time I actually followed the rules. ( I know my mom and Phyllis just had heart attacks) After dinner Dean and I took a little walk around the camp grounds and came across another wombat or maybe even the same one, it’s hard to know for sure. This time we were able to capture some more photos. After our stroll I lit up our site with my camping lantern. This national park doesn’t allow campfires so we had to make the best of the evening by layering up with clothes and settling in to our chairs with good books. I’m currently reading The Fatal Shore by Robert Hughes, an international best seller, telling the history of the convict settlers here in Australia from 1787 until 1868. Very interesting reading for those book worms out there. Of course I had my glass of vodka and Dean sipped on a beer. Around 10 pm the time had come to hit the hay and to spend the first night sleeping in Tommy the Tank! Now the kids I bought the truck from were in their 20’s and used a 3” foam mattress to sleep on. As a test I thought Dean and I would give it a try too. BIG mistake and I should have seen that one coming. 3” of foam is not enough padding for even the new lighter version of myself and after those 3” was just plywood base. It brought back memories of living in the van with John way back in 1991! I’m WAY too old for that now and need more padding between my bones and the hard wood surface. So while the night was warm it was spent tossing and turning trying to alleviate the soreness on what ever side was against the plywood. The one GREAT thing about Tommy is the LARGE moon roof just behind the front seat that as you lay in bed your able to stare out at the sky and on this particular night at the clouds. Now I have had much worse nights sleep in the passenger seats of several rental cars since moving here so this wasn’t all a bad night.
As with most camping trips we were up fairly early. I cooked Dean, Corina’s famous campfire egg scramble on Shelia’s Coleman stove and we set out on our 19km (11.8m) hike to Sealer’s cove. The hike starts out half way up Oberon Mountain on a “No Through” road (dead end) and at a trail head where many other trails begin. Dean and I were there at 9:45 am and the car park (parking lot) was totally full already and we ended up parking several hundred yards back down the road. So there was NO chance of us getting lost and not able to find another person close by to rescue us. The trail starts out in a section that was burnt by the recent fires. This makes it easy to see where the trail is leading and incredible sight to see how quickly mother nature starts to regenerate the forest. I think I have mentioned before on my trip with Dean to the Brisbane Ranges National Park about how some of the plants here rely on fires to help them germinate. The Grass Tree (vertical photo) is such a plant. This single shot shows how quickly the tree can regrow it’s top “grass” like leaves even with it’s trunk blackened and crumbling. Beyond the Grass Tree in the forest you see sprouts of new vegetation on the Gum trees. In many places the ground covers and tubular plants are poking up from the rocky soil and reaching for the sky. In the other photo you can see the Tree Ferns have already regrown their foliage and have that bright green color of new life you rarely see here.

In the next photo you get an idea of how dense the forest was in this area. Dean and I walked past several spot where the fires missed. Strange to see pockets of this “old growth” surrounded by such stark blackness. You can see on the trees that the fire doesn’t always burn the entire tree. Some areas only have burn marks up 2/3 of the trunks with brown leafy tops. A sign that the fires were moving incredibly fast. This section of our hike would have been completely different 3 months ago. We made our way over Windy Saddle, the high point on the hike at 300m (985’), then down towards the ocean the ecosystem changes into a wet lush marshy coastal forest. Another 5 plus kilometers and we emerged out of the forest on to the beach at Sealers cove and the Tasman Sea. This untouched pristine curved beach stretched out about 0.5 kilometer (0.3 mile) in both directions. You could see peopledotted at both end enjoying the view after the long walk. Dean and I decided to just plant ourselves right there where the trail emerges and have our snacks. The one thing I noticed here was how loud the small waves where as they crashed onto the beach The video clipped I loaded isn’t even half as loud as some of them were. Dean and I rested here for almost an hour. We fed the seagulls some rice crackers, chatted with other hikers and soaked up the beauty around us for as long as we could. The hike in took us the better part of 3 hours and with sunset coming around 5:30pm this time of year we needed to start our trek back so to not be doing it in the dark. As always the hike back gives you a different perspective and you see things you missed on your previous trip. Mainly being the ominous clouds that kept threatening to rain on us all afternoon. But luck was with us and we made it back to our campsite about 5 minutes before the rain started.
As I made a hearty stew for dinner the rain just kept coming down harder and harder. Our tarp canopy held up quite well and allowed us to enjoy our evening without having to hide in the Tommy like most of our neighbors had to do in their tents. Unfortunately, the rain also kept the wildlife away too. Dean and I spent the evening with a few drinks and deep in conversations about men, life and our place in the universe. The drinks helped with this as you can imagine. About 9pm the long day had caught up with us and we climbed into Tommy. After last nights foam and plywood sleeping arrangements I wised up and inflated the air mattress for us to sleep on too. This reduced the head room we had, but increased the comfort level greatly. The rain came down all night long and the wind eventually whipped the tarps into a tangled mass. But the bungee cords help keep it all from blowing away. It was the driest night of downpour rain camping I have ever had and made me VERY glad to have Tommy. In the morning the rain had subsided for the most part and we managed to take the tarps the rest of the way down and pack up the remaining items quickly. Our plan was to find a hot breakfast back in the little town of Fish Creek. About 50km (31 miles) north of us. Since we had to keep the windows closed all night the inside of the vehicle got rather damp. Dew was running down the inside of the windows and with no fan on the heater we had to wipe away windshield several times so I could drive. Dean used some of the emergency toilet paper and I used my sleeve. This didn't work very well but we we're only going about 15 kph in the campground and needed to be done about every 30 seconds. Because out breath kept fogging it back up. We tried to open the windows to equalize the temperature inside and that helped a little. Dean played with all the buttons on the dash while I tried to drive us out of the National Park. I flicked a switch to turn the rear defroster on and all of a sudden the heater fan began to work. Now we don't really know if there was a connection as both Dean and I were fiddling with things. But once we got it going neither wanted to turn it off. 3 hours later we were back in the city and I had an hour of cleaning to do to get everything unpacked. My first camping trip with Tommy had gone very smoothly. More than a week later the heater fan is still working just fine. So keep your fingers crossed for me there's a lot of winter driving left to do here.

Stay tuned for the next blog update will be coming shortly. I’ve had another little adventure on Saturday the 12th to let you all know about and will start working on that one right away.

Happy birthday to Mike Wrobleski on the 16th and Phyllis will be 40 something on the 26th. I need to get the one in a few times before her big day.

My apologies if there's someone I forgot!

Autumn in Melbourne

Since I last left you in the snow of Mount Donna Buang. There are no major exciting things to report this month. Work, the gym and my saxophone has kept my time fairly full. I have had a chance for a couple short day trips out of the city with Tommy and the band has had 2 performances. I’ll try to jazz up these events and make them seem like you are here with me as best as I can.

The month started with a day trip to Wilson’s Promontory. A National Park south east of Melbourne about a 3 hour drive. It’s a large triangular shaped peninsula with a thin strip of land connecting it to the mainland. It is also one of the southerly most points on the Australian continent. This was the first long drive I took and a good chance for me to check the kilometres per litre on my new rig. As I imagined a 19 year old vehicle with that much steel in the body isn’t in the higher ranges of fuel efficiency. This has led me to start to investigate converting the engine to liquid petroleum gas. It’s VERY popular here. Every petrol station carries it and it averages about 40% of the price per litre that petrol does. It won’t improve my kilometre ratio but it won’t hurt it either. The perks are the Australian government will give you $2000 in rebates to do the conversion and it’s much more environmentally friendly. I would be able to keep the petrol fuel system it has now. The cost is about $4000 to do the conversion. But I’d save the difference in petrol in less than 18 months. As for now I’ve only done a little research on the web and will need to save some money before taking this plunge. I’ve heard conflicting reports that the rebates are good until 2014 or they could end next month. So we’ll see. But I digress... Back to the road and a 3 hour drive each way.

Wilson’s Prom (as it called here) was closed for most of the summer because of wild fires. I had heard it re opened just about a month ago. There are close to 300 campsites packed into one area near the beaches in the small hamlet of Tidal River. No camp fires are allowed (for good reason) and I wanted to check it out for a future camping trip. There is extensive back country hiking trails and this would be a good place to test my new sleeping accommodations in the back of Tommy. Unlike my Easter trip where I ended up way the hell out in the middle of nowhere. There’s a ranger station and general store near the camp sites and no real 4x4 roads. So not to worry my many moms I’ll be much safer this time. I have made some reservations for the next long weekend. The Queen’s Birthday (not actually her birthday for some reason) it’s the first weekend in June and we have Monday off. So I’ll drive down Saturday morning and get a good full day hike in on Sunday before heading back to town. This trip has a few set backs beyond the things I mentioned above. Most are out of my control. Like June is the middle of winter here. So the weather will mostly likely be about 50 and grey. There will be 12 hours of darkness with no camp fires that means I better bring a good book, lots of batteries for my torches (flashlights) and plenty of blankets. The bright sides are the above mentioned people facilities and that fact the place should be relatively empty. (Seems Australians don’t like to camp when it’s not warm and sunny) So I should have the beaches and forests to myself and not bother too many people with my sax practice. I’ve included just a few pictures from this trip because I imagine there’ll be more in a future blog.

The next weekend the band had a fundraiser at the hall where we practice. It was a trivia night event and with my limited knowledge of Australian trivia I decide my skills would be better suited in a support roll. So at 2pm on a Saturday I showed up and did whatever was needed to lend a hand. I washed 75 wine glasses, hung the stage backdrop with stars and the moon. I helped organize tables with chairs, and wrapped door prizes. Once the guest arrived I sold raffle tickets, bussed tables, and backed up the bar. Myself and some of the other volunteers formed our own trivia team and did our best. Only in 1 category was I very helpful, “THE YANKS” I got 12 out of the 15 questions all by myself. The best round our team had. Yes we missed the other 3 questions but I was the ONLY American in the room of 100+ people. So I thought I did pretty well and now I don’t think I’ll ever forget that Bette Midler made her name at the Continental Bathhouse of NYC in 1970. As the evening ended there was a lot of clean up to do and several of us that arrived early in the afternoon didn’t leave until well after midnight. Needless to say I slept in that Sunday morning. Many pictures were taken but none by me so you just have to imagine a room full of queens, dykes and our loved ones drinking and conversing gaily.

The next little adventure I had took place right in the middle of Melbourne’s central business district and what’s called Federation Square. I’m sure I have mentioned this place in my earlier blogs. It’s the central plaza area for the city and the place where people go to watch others, enjoy a lunch, watch a footy game on the giant screen TV or as in my case enjoy the sounds of the Melbourne Rainbow Band performing for the Budda Day Festival. You may ask yourself, like I did. How does a group of gay people get hooked up to perform for Buddhist? Well our conductor, Mark Lyall’s boyfriend is Buddhist, that’s how. A fairly easy leap to make once you know that titbit. As most of you know I’m not one to sit around much and if there’s help needed I do my best to lend a hand. So I unpacked the camping gear from Tommy and loaded the tank up with band gear and hauled it into the city in my butch 4x4. We’re performed 3 songs and I played very well. I was quite proud of myself and it was VERY cool to play at this particular location. It’s a place I have been too many times (not far from my office) and I had recently attend some lunch time jazz concerts there. So getting to perform in the heart of the city was a great experience. After our short set we loaded Tommy back up with gear and headed to a pub for some grub. My friends, Dean, Jake, Mhairi & Ian we’re all there to share in the fun. As I was driving I skipped the alcohol (I know gasps of horror!) enjoying my lunch with a diet coke and good conversations.


Top row left to right:
half of David's face, Andrew, Glen, Bill, Mark, half of Ben's face, Mark (conductor), and only a third of Andrew's face

Middle row left to right:
Tall guy not sure of his name but he's straight anyway, Rachael, most of Ivan's face, New girl not sure of her name, Greg and ME! (it's all about me). Russel and Adrian

Front row left to right:
Chris, Flick, Beck, Abby, Pramont, Pru, Teong, and Chris



Just last Sunday (May 24th) was the bands big formal concert at Chapel Off Chapel. An old church that has been converted into a small concert hall. Complete with stain glass windows and stadium seating. I went out the night before to the gay bar down the street from my house, the Greyhound. While I did have few drinks I didn’t get smashed and I even passed up a few cute men that had been hitting on me in order to get a good night sleep. This didn’t really work very well as I woke in a funk that I couldn’t shake all day. We have been practicing for this concert for several months. The theme was LOVE and WAR. I had put a LOT of effort into learning 1 complete song, the theme from “The Hunt For Red October” Once particular section had a lot of 16th notes and syncopation (when notes are played in between the standard 4 beats) in it. I spent hours breaking down this song into little phases working my fingers to the bone trying to get the difficult patterns correct and doing countless clapping exercise to get the rhythm and timing just right. At first just playing the part at 40 beats a minute and working my way up to the required 80 beats per minute. Just about a week before the show I managed to bring it all together and was able to played it once with all my band mates in practice. About a month before the concert I was told I would get a 2nd alto sax solo part in the classic Australian song Waltzing Matilda. (the long version which is VERY sad, trust me) Now when I heard this I totally FREAKED out! A solo OH MY GOD I’m not ready I thought. I’d been practicing “Red” for weeks and didn’t have it. How could I learn this in such a short period of time? The part as it turned out was slightly easier. Being mostly whole and half notes. But slightly different as there are 6 beat instead of 4 and they are at 110 beats a minute instead of the more standard 80 beats a minute. It all boiled down to a lot of counting 1,2,3 then 4,5,6, in 2 groups like that. I managed to learn this and practiced it several times with the band in the weeks leading up to the concert. I was actually more confident about this than I was about playing “Red”. As I was saying before I woke up in a strange funk that morning. I’m not sure if it was a slight hang over or nerves. This concert was sold out and people had paid $25 each to see us perform. It wasn’t a free gig for Buddhist but the real deal. I arrived at the hall about 2pm for our 6pm performance. I helped Fiona and Ben wrap gifts for special guests and soloist. After that around 3pm there wasn’t much to do so I wandered off in search of some lunch. When I returned I heard the band playing our opening number “MARS”. We were doing a sound check and I was the ONLY person missing! How embarrassing, let me tell you! I found out later I missed an email detailing the day’s events. Once finding my spot which was on the other side of the Saxes from where I’m used to playing (another of the days surprises) Right smack in the middle of the band. I did my best to play well and even nailed my solo piece completely! As 6pm approached we all donned our black outfits with white bow ties and white (8.5” x11” paper folded in half the long way and taped to our wrist) cuffs and took our places back stage. I was fairly nervous at this point. Butterflies in the tummy, sweaty palms and everything! Michael, my flat mate, was there for moral support and another friend Tas showed up at the last minute. As we walked on stage the audience cheered our arrival. I tried to step gingerly around music stand and chairs, over extension cords and lighting cables to reach my seat. My last step brushing one of the plugs and disconnecting a whole series of small lamps we used to read the music while performing. The entire band, the conductor and the audience stared at me while I tried to do the simple function of plugging the cord back in. Thank god! Flick, (a clarinetist) next to me managed to do this faster than I could. Our opening number went off well. I managed to play the parts I could and kept up with the rest of the band. From there things went downhill fast! I total screwed up the part for “Red October” I’d been practicing for months! When it came time for my solo I played 2 notes and lost count. Andy, one of the other sax players, noticed my fumble and jumped in to save the day. At that point the crowd was VERY lucky to not see a saxophone flying across the room! How could I not just freaking (So not the word I want to use but my grandmother will see this!) count to 6! The notes are simple A, A, A, F Sharp, G sharp, C sharp and so on. I as I recanted the story to Michael at home later that night. I realize all I could think about was there were over 100 people staring at me and with the bright lights I couldn’t see a single one of them. I just kept thinking all those people are watching! To my delight several of the other, much better, musician flubbed (yes that is the word I want to use) up some key points too. Most of these minor miss steps aren’t things the average audience member wouldn’t even notice. But we have been playing these same 10 + songs for 3 months and know them intimately, being human we still make mistakes.

Luckily the first half was over and I was thinking I really couldn’t do any worse in the second half. While I still was beating myself up about my performance that thought did allow me to relax a little bit and I managed to step my way thru the rest of the concert without making a further ass (sorry grandma) of myself. All my band mates we’re filled with joy and excitement, the crowd was very appreciative of our efforts and in all a good time was had. Everyone congratulated each other on parts well done. No one said a single word to me about my mistakes. It would be in bad taste and something any good musician would never do on a performance night.

In the photo I am in the middle of the orchestra. you can see part of my head just to the right of the conductor's head. Click on the photo to make it larger.

So with the crowd gone and the hall empty we set out on the task of packing everything back up. Here I felt I could be of some use and I quickly changed into jeans to do my part. One of the percussionists, Greg, gave me a ride home and I was in bed trying to put the bad behind me and focus on the future by 10pm. Telling myself I’ll do better next time. There will be a next time. No one gets to be good without making mistakes along the way. A wise person learns from those mistakes and improves themselves. So that’s what I’ll do. Until next time faithful followers.

Happy birthdays to out to Roger on May 22nd, Shelley’s was May 17th, Phyllis’s is coming up on June 26th I hope to get another blog done by then but just in case. If there’s someone I’ve missed please accept my apologies.

Tommy the Tank

Friends, meet Tommy!

Tommy, meet the world!

Since I sold my 2007 Chevy Equinox before leaving Portland and until now my main mode of transportation has been my feet. Occasionally, through the kindness of friends old and new, I’ve been able to hitch a ride here or there and on several occasions rented a car. As detailed in my last blog, renting a car comes with some responsibilities, like returning it in one piece and undamaged. Since that update I found out a new rear guard for a Ford Falcon cost about $300. A lot less than the $1150 Europcar placed as a hold on my credit card.

That was pretty much the final straw to push me into buying my own vehicle. Over the last month or so I had been jumping back and forth between what type of car I wanted. I was sure I didn’t want another new car after the financial loss I left in Portland. I knew I did want something that I could take out into the woods camping and skiing (it’s that time of year here). After the Easter incident I realized I wanted to be able to go where I wanted and not be limited by the car. So while waiting for the final statement of damages from the rental company I began eagerly searching for some type of 4x4 with sleeping accommodations. This time luck was on my side and I quickly found what has affectionately been named Tommy the Tank. A 1990 Mitsubishi Pajero, on a Craig’s list like website called Gumtree. A splendid young German couple, Silvio and Petra, who were living on Tommy and travelling around Australia and looking to sell it. The time had come for them to make a long trip up to Darwin before returning to their homeland. After negotiating a price and obtaining a Road Worthy Certificate (needed to sell and register a vehicle) last Friday night Tommy the Tank became mine.

I came up with that name because people were calling it a Toorak Tractor. Toorak is a ritzy neighbourhood where all the soccer moms drive 4x4 but never really take them off road. I decided on Tommy the Tank because this is one of the last big heavy steel vehicles and with that kangaroo bar on the front I’ll be able to roll over most other cars in my way.

Friday night about 11pm I did take Tommy out and went to a bar. What used to take me 60 minutes on public transportation only took me 15 in my new wheels! Because of the VERY strict DUI laws I only had 1 drink in 2 hours a savings of about $60 off my usual bar tab. I also saved $20 by not having to get a cab ride home. SWEET!

Saturday morning I organized all the camping gear Silvio and Petra gave me and repacked my gear into the back. Now I have more storage space in my bedroom and am ready to hit the road at a moment’s notice.

On Sunday, my friend, Dean took me out near Healesville close to where the bush fires had been for a little 4x4 up Mt Donna Bonang (I probably got the 2nd word wrong but that's what it sounds like when everyone says it) On our way up the dirt road on what was a cold, windy rainy day. The liquid sunshine turned into white sunshine! I hadn’t seen snow since the spring of ’08 on my last ski trip and forgot how much I missed it. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he had seen snow. We played around a little and I got a feel for my new rig. There was only about 3” on the ground at the summit reaching just about 1300m (4000’) which was perfect and didn’t require chains. A fantastic voyage for my first test of the 4x4 systems and one of the most fun days I have had since moving here! IT WAS TOTALLY AWESOME!!! (boy doesn't that statement date me)

Since then Tommy has sat in my gated spot at home, waiting for the next adventure. I have no plans to drive Tommy to/and from work. What takes me 12 minutes on the train would take 45 in rush hour traffic. A train pass for the week cost $29 and its $30 a day to park by my office. So being the cheap bitch I am there’s no way I’ll be driving it to work.

The rest of May is fairly busy with band engagements. We have 2 performance and some extra practices. So I’m hoping to get out a little before the Queen’s Birthday (our next long weekend) in June. I’m sure there’ll be time for day trips and I am in the process of finding out where to get off road.

I’m not sure when the next update will be so just in case Happy Mother’s Day to my mother, my step mother and my high school mom. Cards will be in the mail soon after I actually buy them. Happy birthday to Shelley Smith who turns 40 something on the 17th and to Roger Vines who is also 40 something on the 22nd.

Take care love and miss you all!

(I know you are all saying FINALLY A SHORT BLOG ENTRY!!!!LOL)

The Easter Bunny goes on a road trip.

This story starts at the Australian DMV, or the Vic Roads office as its known here. Like I’ve mentioned before everything here is just a little different. I checked out the website for office and general information finding out I needed to make an appointment. You couldn’t just walk in and get in line. When I called the office I’m told the branch in the CBD near my office has a 2 month waiting list but I could take a 20 minute train ride to Camberwell, East of town, and have an appointment in 2 weeks. As it turns out this is the same building where I’ve gone for client project meetings and software user groups for Microstation. (work things....) So I happen to know exactly where to go. The office looks like any other public bureau, sterile with a ton of people not be there. However, with an appointment I’m able to walk right up to the counter before I have to sit and wait. I fill out the appropriate form while I wait for my name to be called, and I have plenty of time! Once my government assist returns from lunch I’m promptly called up to the counter and run through a series of questions about my driving history. Unlike the airport I’m required to show my passport here. The only test being to read 1 line of an eye chart and to swear I’ll be a good driving citizen. A few more questions and the kachunk of rubber stamps I’m sent to the long line to make my payment of $45 for a 3 year chance to legally drive on this giant rock island. Then it’s to the photo taking line for the lovely snapshot and in a few minutes I have completed one step of the way to my automotive freedom.


The following weekend turns out to be the long 4 day weekend that is Easter. Sort of like the thanksgiving of Australia. It’s in the autumn; everyone gets together with friends and family and eats themselves sick. I however skip that and head to the woods for some camping. This time to the Snowy River National Park in North Eastern Victoria near the New South Wales border.
I pick up the rental car, a silver Ford Falcon, Thursday evening get some of the gear loaded before heading to band practice. In my usual fashion I’m up and ready to go by 6am. The weather is supposed to be great and everyone is going to be on the roads going somewhere. This is the number one road travel weekend in Australia. I want to beat the RVs, hippy vans and car loads of kids out of the city. As I get farther and farther from town the freeway dwindles from a multi lane fully separated highway, you and I are used to, into a single lane in each direction roadway going thru every little town looking so cute, but you never really want to stop at. By 9am the roadway is just a line of cars headed east for as far in front of me and behind me as I can see. Thank god we are doing 80 to 100 kph (50 to 63 mph). The cops are out in force and only the greatly brave and stupid are travelling over the speed limit (no I’m not one of them). Driving demerit points are doubled over holiday weekends and a single moving violation can not only be a financial set back but cost you your licence for a period of time. I finally stop in the town of Sale Victoria. It looks big enough to have a grocery store maybe even 2. I make my way to Safeway and find out everything is closed for Good Friday. The nice lady at the coffee shop, the only thing open, knows of a small mom and pop grocery store across town that’s forgone the religious down time and are open, 3 U turns and I find it. Its here I get the final supplies to eat well in the woods. Fresh veggies and fruit, some meat to marinate, ice and chocolate. Don’t worry I got the booze already in the cooler chilling! I’m back on the road in no time and looking for Waratah Flats campground. About 100 km (63m) north of Orbost and another 25 km (15m) back into the woods along dirt roads. It’s been a long day of driving when I arrive around 3pm. The forest is dense, the camp ground is hard to find and I haven’t seen another car for over an hour, at least. The place is totally empty giving me the best camping site and all the prepped fire woods left behind. This site does have picnic tables and a good fire pit, but nothing else. No streams, no hiking trails, nor a view. I soon realize this won’t be a home for more than a single night. The week earlier we changed our clocks back for fall and I had about 3 hours of good light left. I decide I’m not going to set up the tent at all and prep the fire pit for what I hope will be an evening of solitude by the fire. Once it’s all ready to go I break out my sax to practice the new techniques my instructor has given me for home work. The sounds of the sultry saxophone fill the forest. Reverberating through the trees, rattling leaves and I’m sure scaring away every creature within a kilometre. It was pure heaven! Sorry but as a look back at the pictures I realized I didn’t get any photos here.

As night starts to fall I build a fire and cosy up to the crackling heat. Just as I have a good pile of coals going and think I’m going to prepare my chicken dinner it starts to rain. With no place to hide but in the car, dinner quickly changes to a turkey sandwich, a diet Dr. Pepper (from the USA food store) and of course some of that chocolate. I watch my campfire fight the water drops flaring up, dying back then repeating the cycle. All the time I keep my fingers crossed the rain will stop and I can get back outside before drifting off to slumber land. Alas it’s to no avail after an hour it’s totally dark, raining buckets, with the occasional clap of thunder or flash of lighting. I decide today’s been long enough, tilt the seat back, surround myself with pillows and cover myself with mom’s quilt before calling it a night.

Early to bed means early to rise and at 3:30am I’m wide awake wondering what to do. Continue to lay here and keep tossing and turning or hit the road to get the day started? Being the incredibly patience person I am (no laughing anyone) I hit the proverbial dirt road. High beams on and going slow to be ready for the nocturnal animals I start making my way back towards civilization, 100+ km away. After maybe 15 km I see a right turn for Aberdeen Road. A road I had passed yesterday, that I saw off the main road going into the forest. But it wasn’t on the map in the nation park book. The temptation to go down the road travelled road is too great and I make the left into what can only be classified as not one of my smarter choices in life! Quickly the forest closes in on me, the branches hanging down almost touching the top of my full size sedan. The weeds and forest ground cover filling the middle of 2 slightly muddy ruts. The thought of turning around did cross my mind and I confidently told myself I can do this I know the road comes out to pavement near a yellow (maybe green) house. Another kilometre and I come to my first dirt berm. Up and over no problem so I keep going! The road way narrows and I’m glad I can’t see any farther than the forest allows the high beams to go. Before me is a fairly steep downhill with multiple berms. It’s here that I start seriously reconsider my choice. I stop for a minute, look at the clock shine 4:04am, look at the road in front of me, glance at the road behind me, wonder if I should turn around, to my left the road way drops off and to my right the hillside climbs. Both reaching distances I’d rather not think about at the moment. I’m never going to be able to back up over those berms. I have to go forward until I can find a good spot to turn around. Focusing on what is within the next 10’ at a time I start off slowly moving forward. Keeping my hands firmly gripped to the steering wheel, trying to push the bad thoughts out of my mind. Thoughts like “I’m way out in the woods, at 4am; no one truly knows where I am. I have 3 more days before Michael will even begin to wonder. Not to mention that cell phone coverage in Australia quickly dies away the moment you leave any city limits.” Up down, up down, up down, as I go down the steep roadway. Once clearing the hurdles and finding a good spot where the road and forest have opened up a little. I decide I’m almost there and what’s in front can’t be as bad as what I just managed to maneuver! A total of 7 kilometres from the initial bad decision and I finally come to an obstacle I can’t get around. A fire gate claiming a 4x4 is needed to go farther and no trespassing beyond this point. After 10 point turn later I’m headed back the way I came with my fingers crossed, on a wing and a prayer! At least now I know what to expect! Hoping that’s the silver lining to this predicament I’ve gotten myself into. When I get back to my nicely levelled, fairly modern dirt road I breathe a sigh of relief and think to myself lesson learn there! No more 4x4 in the middle of the night and stick to the main roads stupid! About 6:30are when I make back to Orbost. Where I pull over and call one of my camping buddies, Eddie, in Portland. After filling him in on my morning adventures I jump in the passenger’s seat again and grab another hour of sleep waiting for the local cafe to open up for some reassuringly comforting home cooked by someone else food. I review my reference manuals hoping to find a place to camp closer to the coast and a few other people. I spend a few hours learning that every camping site in the coastal national parks has been booked up for holiday and head back to the mountains. This time deciding on an area with 4 campgrounds close to each other on the north side of the same national park. 5 hours of driving to end up 50km from where I started. Getting to Bull Flats campground near the McKillops Bridge by early afternoon.



Here the forest lies on top of a short ridge only mere meters off the paved road, the open forest giving me views of the nearby hill sides and a decent size stream bubbling nearby. The 3 campsites are all about 50 meters apart and once again I get to pick out the best spot. I quickly find my new home with the fire pit, a nice place for me to pitch the tent and even an area to string up a tarp to hide under if those evening storms come back. It’s here that I know I’ll spend the next 2 nights. I set up the tent and prepare the fire wood for what I hope is my evening by the campfire. I practice the sax some more and this time get started a little earlier on dinner. Once again shortly after dark a few thunderstorm roll through. This time I’m prepared! I dash under my tarp and watch the flashes of light. Tonight’s storms are much more intense or maybe it’s just my perspective of being outside to view them this time. Once I’ve had my fill and there’s a lull in the rain drops I climb into my tent. Air mattress all pumped up, Mom’s quilt spread out to keep me warm. As soon as I’m tucked into bed and shut off the headlamp the rain once again stats to come down in buckets. All is fine for about 5 minutes until I get beamed in the forehead with a drop of water. I lay there praying it’s a fluke rain drop that made its way somehow through the tent fly. As it turns out I’m not so lucky. One rain drop turns into another then another and before I know it there are rain drops falling all over inside the tent. This first band of showers much has soaked the tent enough and the second band was just too much for it to handle. The tent itself is about 5 or 6 years old and has been having some problems the last few trips. I had decided before leaving town to give it one more chance and to try to get a new one after this trip. But I digress... there I am sitting in the tent with my clothes back on blankets and pillow bundled up trying to keep them dry and waiting for the rain to subside enough to make a dash for the car. Once back inside I know the drill to quickly make myself as comfortable as possible in the passenger’s seat, cursing the rain and my old tent.


Sunday, Easter morning the happy hopper doesn’t bring my chocolate but does leaves me some eggs to scramble up for breakfast by the campfire. After my morning meal and the cleanup I head to the only hiking trail in the area. An 18 km loop along the Snowy River. At the trail head I study the wall map fairly well. Since there don’t seem to be any paper copies of the route for me to take and my national park book doesn’t detail it out either. Stay left at the first turn and then 3 rights should take me along the correct path. But like much of this trip nothing turns out like I’d hoped for at the start. The trail itself is identified with orange triangular markers nail to the trees. In spots, because the forest is somewhat open, the path is really hard to define. Along the way I realize there are several other trails that didn’t seem to be on the map I studied. I have a good general understanding of the way I want to go and I need to keep the river to my right.




On this trip the Kookaburras are the most seen animal. They’re muscle bound woodpeckers and not really afraid of much. I can hear their monkey like calls in the trees and see a few following me along. They’re meat eaters so I don’t think they are waiting for me to drop something like the magpies do. But I can’t help but wonder if this is a gang came to rough me up a little. The walk progresses and I find myself enjoying the many facets of beauty Mother Nature has built around me. After some time I know I’m no longer on the correct trail but like I said the river is to the right and the car behind me someplace.


After 3 hours of hiking I find the back woods camping spot I’d seen on the map near the river’s edge. It’s here that I stop for a snack before deciding what to do. The trail itself follows the river then heads deep into the forest along a tributary before making its way back to the McKillop Bridge and parking area. I decide, in my infinite wisdom, that I’ll just follow the river’s edge back to the car and forgo the long hike deep into the bush. My track record for this trip has left my usually good sense of direction a little worse wear. How hard can it be to follow the river I think! I start out along a nice rocky edge and enjoy the sounds of the water rushing past. In no time at all the rock disappear and a densely packed region of 3 meter (9’+/-) high scrub bush replaces it. As I start to make my way though these dry scratchy leafless bushes I begin to realize that shorts and a t-shirt may not be the best outfit to protect my extremities. I along the way I find wallaby and wombat trails that help guide me near the river’s edge. The only problem with following them is that I’m considerably taller than both animals. At several points I had to crouch down on my hands and knees to get by. On this trek I also wonder should I turn around or keep going. I’m confident that if I see a fire gate I can get around it. After all I am on foot this time. So I try to keep following the flat area along the river bank but at time the scrub brush prove to be just too much and I head to the hillside to get a better view and to make sure I’m still on track back towards the car park. This view allows me to see a clearing at the river’s edge. I make my way back thru the brush and for a few minutes enjoy a leisurely stroll once again. This time the obstacle in front of me isn’t scratchy branches but 3’ meter high cat tails for about 100’ maybe more. At the beginning I can see a clearly defined path the animals have made for me to follow. The reeds are all bent and trodden down keeping my feet high and dry above the marshy soils. About 20’ into the grass lands I realize this is the point at which the stupid ass American gets bit by one of those famously venomous snake this continent is known for. I’m paralysed by these thoughts for a moment. But what can I do? Go back the way I came or keep trudging along hoping for the best. It’s unlike me to go back once I’ve started a journey and this trip is no different. So I just start paying very close attention to every foot step. Another 10’ or so I find a 5’ long stick and it becomes my trusty blind man’s cane. I proceed now poking every piece of grass within my reach hoping to scare away those nasty killer creatures before making the next step. My trek continues like this for the rest of the way back to the car park. Some spots its hands and knees through dense brush scratching every inch of exposed skin. Sometimes it’s reeds in the marsh and every so often it’s nice open rocks. After about 3 hours of very slow progress I finally reach the safety of a trail about 500 meters before reaching the car again. Lesson here... and one I’m ashamed to say I’ve known for years, Stick to the trail stupid!


Once back at my campground all sweaty and cut up I decide it’s time sooth my wounds by taking a little dip in the stream nearby. It’s been more than 48 hours and several sweaty periods since I’ve bathed and while the afternoon is still warm I’d be smart to clean up in a nice babbling brook. I grab a change of clothes, a towel and some soap along with my camera before heading to the water’s edge. I manage to find a nice big mostly flat rock with an indentation in the middle of it to wash away the grime and clean myself up. One of the perks about being in Australia is these streams don't run down from mountain snow pack like the ones in Oregon and the water is a pleasant cool bath temperature, not a fridge ice pack. I linger here for a while enjoying the fresh feeling of cool water rushing over me. I also spot these 5 or 6 lorikeets at the water's edge. When I try to closer for a photo they hide in the trees and this was the best shot I could get.

Once back up at the campsite I take down the leaky tent (no sense sleeping in it if it’s going to rain again) and prepare for my final evening in the woods. More saxophone practice and dinner

by campfire. On this, my third and final night, I get lucky (and there hasn’t been much of that on this trip). The storms stay away and the clear night sky ushers in a blanket of starts to gaze upon while I sit by the crackling campfire. As you sometimes do alone by the fire I drift in and out of sleep. Fighting the urge to climb into the car. I don’t want this night to end and I still have fire wood to burn. Finally, I succumb and pack up everything I can before jumping into the car for one more night of false slumber. Sleeping in a passenger’s seat of a car for multiple nights doesn’t really qualify as sleep. It’s more like a series of short naps in a airplane seat that reclines a bit more, has a few more pillows and a few more blankets. It’s not horrible (trust me a wet tent and blankets it worse) but it’s not a 5 star accommodation either!

On my final morning I cook a hearty breakfast and break down the remaining items. Tossing everything into the car any way I can. In a few hours I’ll be at home where I’ll have to unpack everything, clean it and repack it into the nooks and crannies of my flat. The drive home is about 7 hours long. It’s full of small towns, bumper to bumper traffic and cops with radar guns hoping to and easily increasing the shire's (county) coffers. Once I reach the comforts of city life I go about unpacking my gear, throwing away that damn tent, and cleaning up as much as I can. A quick run to the store and some prep for returning to work on Tuesday morning. But the story doesn’t end there.

Remember the 4x4 excursion at 4am the first morning. Well that morning when I reached the town of Orbost I notice a little something missing from the back of the car. As you can see from the picture. It’s not really a bumper but a plastic piece covering the under carriage. Now when I picked up the car it was backed up against a wall and while it does seem obvious that something was there. I wasn’t 100% sure I had been the one to lose it? In any case there was no way in HELL I was driving back up those 100km and down that dirt road just to get a piece of plastic and maybe I’d get lucky and the rental agency wouldn’t notice! Did I just say “I’d get lucky” this trip had very little of that and there was none left at all by the time I got the rental company lot Tuesday morning. Before I even got out of the car the maintenance man asked me what happen to the back end of the car. I pleaded ignorance for a little while and then when the sales man came out. I just said bill me I got to go to work! I’m still waiting for the final notice on the charges but so far Europcar has placed a $1000 hold on my credit card. Lesson here get the extra damn insurance if you’re going to take a sedan 4x4 at 4am! In 40 years I can’t say I’ve never done a little damage to a rental car but I can say this is the first time I got busted for it!



Now we all know if I’d actually owned that car I would have NEVER gone down that road. I have been saving my money in hopes of buying a car of my own in the near future. This was the final push I needed to get my own car. Today I made a deposit and plan to pick up the vehicle on Friday. You’ll have to tune in to see what kind I bought... Until then my friends may the April showers bring you all the lovely May flowers?


Happy birthday to Marian on the 23rd of April.

“WHO ARE YOU”

March has gone out with a ROAR of the engines and a ROAR of the crowd.

Before I get to that, a brief dialogue about a small and fairly unknown national park I recently visited. My friend, Dean, and I took a day trip to the Brisbane Ranges National Park. No plane was needed to reach this park as it wasn’t anywhere near Brisbane but was located just west of Melbourne about 90km (56m) outside of town. It was a warm, sunny Sunday morning when we jumped in his car and drove to the hilly patch out in the middle of the Victorian plains.

The hike was a 10km (6.2m) loop trail that starts at the bottom of Anakie Gorge, then climbing to the top of the ridge and continued along the parameter of the park before descending back down to follow the creek again.

When they say gorge here its nothing like the magnificent Columbia River Gorge I know and love from the Pacific Northwest. Here the hills climb about 100m (330’) above the creek bed. I use the term “creek bed” loosely too. It would barely register as even a waterway in most parts of the states. There are pools of water here in there that might constitute a stream in the rainy season but not in March at the end of summer.
My national park book listed this area as having one of the densest populations of Koalas in Victoria. Once we arrived we soon found out that wasn’t the case. In January 2006 there had been a bush fire in the area and the vegetation was just starting to recover the land. The trees trunks, mostly burned, black, soot covered stalks of once beautiful gum and eucalyptus trees were in the early stages of sending out new branches. There was no way any of them could support even a small population of Koalas. It was interesting to see how in just 3 short years Mother Nature was starting to bring back the lush forest greenery that she has cleared out.


Many of the plants in Australia depend on the bush fires to cull foliage and help with germination. One plant in particular the, Grass Tree, will only produce its seed pods after a bush fire. Once a fire has moved through the area, this remarkable plant with a crumbling black trunk and grass blades growing like a fungus out of the top sends up a large phallic like pod into the air. Upon reaching its full height the pores on what sort of resembles a big cat’s tail opens its little chambers and lets hundreds of seeds drop out. Some start to grow right there others are carried away by bird life to begin the germination process else where.


Dean and I had our snacks at a little bench over looking the rolling hills onto the valley before continuing on our loop journey. We saw very little wildlife mainly because the fires had wiped out most of the creatures. We did happen to see tad poles in the of the stream pools, a small lizard here and there and of course the ever present birds of Australia. Nearing the end of our trek in a area densely covered with new growth ground cover we caught a wallaby. They are bigger and leaner than the pademelons of Tasmania, with longer tails. Their coat is a more grayish brown colour. (I can here Phyllis now) What do I know about colours!

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. After changing out of my dusty hiking clothes and into some shorts we took a different drive back to town. Going through the apple and produce farms of Bacchus Marsh. A town my group at work is hoping to do a road widening project through. Then it’s freeway back into town and back to work for another week.

This brings us to the ROAR of the engines part of the blog. Some of you may know that Melbourne has a Formula 1 Grand Prix Race. The trials start on Friday afternoon and take place in Albert Park (See September 12th blog entry “The apartment search goes on”) The noise echoes off the high rise buildings and are not only heard but felt throughout the city as the cars zing around the track. There has been a lot of news reports leading up to this event. The Crown Casino erected special platforms to sell merchandise and have a place to view your favorite driver. There are 2 days of time trails and the big race day on Sunday afternoon. All with a festivities ending with a classic rock band concert. The headliner being that famous British rock band from the 60’s (Yes, I said the 60’s.), THE WHO!

On Saturday afternoon I had some time to kill and walked the 2km from my house to the race area. All I had to do was follow the helicopters and noise of the race cars. I found myself at the southern end of the park near gate 10. It was here I also found that the entire park was fenced off and there was no way to get even a glimpse of the souped up roadsters zooming around in a strangely shaped circle. I purchased my ticket and retreated home to save my energies for the next day.

The race itself started at 5pm. I arrive within the park about 4:00 and wandered around trying to see what I could see. This was my first Formula 1 race and the last time I saw the WHO was in the summer 1989 at Sullivan Stadium outside of Boston. I think the name has changed by now, but it was where the New England Patriots played way back then.





As I made my way around the grounds I found myself at the starting line just about 10 minutes before the race began. I worked my way into the crowd to get as close as possible to the fence line. It was here where I captured the first video of the day. I managed to snap a few more pictures of the grand stands and the massive crowds the came out for this spectacle. Most of the people were dressed in their favourite teams highly sponsored gear. Just before the race started an Australian F-16 made a few laps above the track and then a Qantas plane flew over head. Both of these magnificent machine flying much closer to the ground than I had seen before. It was at this point I decided I’d better put in the ear plugs I picked up on my way in.

Once the race was under way I wandered the pedestrian pathways, people watching and looking at the vintage race cars on display. There were very few places for a late arrival, like myself, to sit. So I just kept walking. Mom and Bill will be disappointed to know that I only caught short glimpses of the race itself. At several points along my wanders I found myself near the track and did catch the cars zip by but then it was 2 or 3 minutes before they made their way back and, as I often do, I got bored and wandered off snapping pictures at opportune moments. At some point along the way the race finished. The big clue for me was all the people starting to move around and then it dawned on me things had gone quiet. There was no more need for the ear plugs. As I started to make my way toward the concert venue I noticed hundreds of people walking out on to the race track. I followed the masses and realized we were all headed to the winners circle. Once there the crowds thickened to fill in every gap between the safety barriers. People climbed the fencing to get a better view of who ever it was that won the race. I‘ve been told it was Jenson Button a Brit that took the checker flag. I have to admit that was kind of cool to stand on the race track along with the cheering fans and TV cameras. Someone near me found a piece of tire rubber and was all excited about the little memento. It didn’t take me long to wander off again and I made my way to the convert venue.

When I first entered the park I found my way to the concert ticket booth and obtained my wrist band. This allowed me to just walk into the fenced area for the concert without having to wait in line later. I’m not sure who the opening band was, a co-worker just mentioned she thought they we “Jet”. I didn’t really care for them. They we’re very punk/heavy metal like in sound and I’m a much more classic rock, smooth jazz kind of person these days.

Just after sunset, right on schedule at 8pm THE WHO came out on stage, Roger Daltrey and Pete Townsend first. They are the only 2 of the original 4 band members still alive. Keith Moon and John Entwistle passed away some years ago now. This band started performing in 1964. 4 years before I was even born and have played off and on for more than 4 decades now. While they have aged and were not the energetic guitar smashing band of the 60’s they did not disappoint. The opening number was “My Generation” and they did all the classics like Baba O’Reilly, Behind Blue Eyes and the now famous CSI theme song WHO ARE YOU! WHO WHO.

The crowd was made up of many types of people. Just in front of me were 3 generations of one family. Grandpa being in his 60’s, Dad near my age and 2 teenage boys. All seem to know the words but Dad and Grandpa seemed to be reliving days gone by, much like myself. I stood in a crowd of maybe 10,000 people, maybe more. it was hard to tell. My space directly in front of the stage was good. I was able to see the band clearly and the music kept us all singing and dancing along through out the evening. I've attached several videos of the concert for your enjoyment. The old proverb says a picture is worth a 1000 words. So video's much be worth 10,000!

Some other things I've been up to are, attending the movies at the Melbourne Queer Film Festival and the ever present sax/band practice. I have found a new instructor that I really like. So I have gotten back into practicing more. The band has a concert with the gay youth chorus at the end of May and I hope to be able to play 2 or 3 songs entirely instead of just pieces of them.

I get my Australian driver's license on April 7th and am starting to look a used camper van to purchase.

I'm enjoying the slightly cooler weather. It's April 1st which equates to October 1st for you and it's almost 90 today. The mornings are much cooler and you can smell Autumn in the air at times. We change our clocks this Sunday so soon I'll be 17 hours ahead of the west coast of North America. There's still a little more than 12 hours of sunlight here.

I having a feeling there's someone I should wish a happy birthday to but I'm not sure who? You know who you are and I wish you well. Marian's is coming up but I'll make another blog update before her big day.

I have a camping trip planned for the 4 day Easter weekend here. So look for that blog update in late April.

Mardi Gras

This was the big weekend trip up to New South Wales. Just having a week off work and a plane trip somewhere to go was great. But this trip to Sydney was as special. Since I have been to the city with the big bridge and opera house several times before, there was no need for heaps of information packets or tourist attractions. I knew exactly how to get to Oxford Street and the gay bars! Along with a familiar city, I met up with Shawn and Jim, my first friends from Portland to come and visit. (Hopefully, not the last! Some body better get a plane ticket going!)


But let me start back in Melbourne for a minute. Friday morning the 6th of March was cool, grey and damp. Melbourne has NO tram or train lines running out to Tullamarine Airport. There are city buses , shuttle services and of course those beautiful yellow cabs, that are knitted into the very fabric of the city, but no trains. The check in at the airport was completely hassle free and quick! Terminal 1 was for domestic flights only. I entered my reservation code into the kiosk and was rewarded with a seat assignment of my own choosing and a boarding pass. No ID required at all, just the alpha numerical code printed from the web. Next it was up to the counter to check some bags. There’s about 25 groups of people ahead of me and the line was actually moving. In less than 5 minutes I’m talking to nice person with my passport in hand. I’m asked for my boarding pass and the number of luggage I’d like to stow. My passport seems of little significance to the clerk. Nor do they want my driver licences. At no time am I asked to show ID at all. I was only required to verbally confirm my name was Brian Harris, before being sent on my way. When I got to the security gates the line here was even smaller maybe only 4 or 5 people in front of me. There are little blue trays to put your things in and no one is in a hurry at all. I stop pull out my CPAP machine. It always gets swiped in the U.S. , surely it will here. I take off my shoes before I notice that no one else is, so I quickly put them back on. Drop my mobile phone and my bag on the belt and slip through without any identification again, my CPAP being less important than my passport. I quickly shove it back in the bag and head to my gate. The entire time from kerb (curb) to gate was no more than 15 minutes. It was the most pleasurable of airport experiences I had ever had. (But not more than getting drunk with my Portland friends before leaving)I do have to admit I was a little taken back by how easy it might be for someone to just walk on to a plane without having to prove who they actually were. But something of a saving grace is that Melbourne airport does have the new body imagine scanning devices at security. This makes it very difficult for a person to sneak anything dangerous through.
The flight was just as smooth and seamless. I read my book and was pleasantly served cupcakes or green apples along with non alcoholic beverages. No extra charges for fresh tasty food. Before I knew it we were descending into Sydney. A 60 minute flight was different from the last 2 times I was here. Obtaining my luggage I made my way to the train platform and got my ticket to the city for $14.60, one way. Arriving at the station near my accommodations you come up from under ground at Museum station in the southwester corner of Hyde Park. I took a beautiful stroll through the magnificent large gum trees that lined the path ways. Bustling people, Ibis birds pecking about, the hum of city life and a nice breeze rustling the trees through the sunshine! An AWESOME way to start the weekend! I made my way the kilometre of so to one of Sydney’s hostels. To a small door, narrow hallways and mostly clean room. The room had 2 windows overlooking the recycling bins, an octagonal table with 2 beat up old 70’s styled chairs, an ancient hand dial TV (which I never checked to see if it even work, much less if it was colour) a small armour for my clothes, brilliant fluorescent overhead lighting, and a double bed close to the floor with a milk crate holding up one corner. But the most important decorating piece was the oscillating fan. With no air conditioning this fan was going to be a life savior for me! I was lucky enough to have a private shower and sink. But unlucky that I had to share a toilet down the hall with the other people on the floor, of which some of them had no services in the rooms. At $60 a night in downtown Sydney, 6 weeks before Mardi gras weekend I was lucky and happy to have my own space with a door I could lock.
It didn’t take me long to ditch my gear and had out to find Shawn and Jim, not to mention the first cocktail of the day weekend! They had made bookings long before me and were able to secure much more comfortable accommodations at the Cambridge Quality Inn just 1 block south of Oxford street. They weren’t in on my first check so I wandered off in search of lunch. Upon my return we bumped into each other in their hotel lobby. It was so nice to see a familiar face. People I had a history with that went back more than 6 months! Shawn and Jim had arrived on Monday and by Friday had settled in nicely to the quick paced city life. We had cocktails in the room and talked for several hours, catching up and making our plans for the party weekend ahead. Friday night festivities included a pool party at the Cook-Phillips Aquatic centre just a few blocks away. I made a quick trip back to my room for a change of outfit before we met up with some other friends Shawn and Jim had made on previous trips to Mardi gras. Some are Australian and some other INSERT 005. Jpg Americans, guys from Seattle and Vancouver BC. The Aquatic centre was much larger than I expected. It needed to be to fit 150+ bears! There was a large lap pool, a hot tub that could fit 30, a playscape area for the kids (of which there were NONE!) and a 40’x80’ wave pool. As you can imagine with that many large men things we’re nicely crowded. Inflatable beach balls, rafts, and even a few giant penises we splashing around in the mix. I met people from Amsterdam, A flight attendant from Hawaii in for a 55 hour layover, a Brazilian and many people from Australia. After about 2 hours of wet and wild fun it was time to grab some quick dinner and head to Flinders Bar for drinks. As we came up out of the centre I caught this beautiful shot of an old church with the moon rising behind it.



















In the morning I awoke to another glorious sunshine filled day. I walked through Hyde Park and organizers had started to erect mobile fencing to keep people out of the shrubs the reflecting pool and other sensitive areas. I met up with my friend Dominic, who I had met back in Melbourne a few months before, and he showed me some of the local sites. We had brunch and then wandered around a new gourmet market in his neighbourhood. In the early afternoon I headed back to my hotel to rest up for the big event that night. To walk in the parade we had to meet the bear group organizers in Hyde Park at 4pm. The parade didn’t kick off until 8pm but we needed to get our pink wrist bands identifying us as marchers. The park itself was filled with all types of people milling about, some getting costumes ready, some snacking on nibbles and socializing, some all dressed and showing off already. There were many spectators mingling about the pompom boys and leather queens. Everyone, including myself, snapping pictures at every opportunity, angle, and gorgeous body. Shawn and Jim introduced me to a group of Americans they had met on previous trips to Sydney for the Mardi Gras parade. So once we all had our wrist bands we found a bar for a few drinks before getting locked into the parade formation area at 7pm. Once back inside the gates with our little buzzes going we found our way to the Harbour City Bears float. Which turned out to have the BEST dance music in our area and everyone was dancing to the beat, parade marches along with the large crowd of spectators. Parade organizers had shut down an entire 4 lane street running the full length of Hyde Park for participants and floats to gather. After a few minutes of boogieing I decided to take a walk around and see what I could find. The next few pictures are all of people marching in the parade. We waited for over 2 hours for our line to start to move down the street.

















































































































Once we were moving the crowds standing at some points 20 people deep cheered and waved us on. It was said that over 10,000 people marched in the parade and over 300,000 people watched it along the sides. To me the number of spectators seemed even higher. As our group of about 75 big hairy men made our way the crowd was awesome. They cheered when men kissed, high fived anyone, and gave out hugs freely to people who ventured to the edges. They waved flags from many countries and of course our favourite the rainbow flag. They whistled and cheered so loud it was hard to hear the music blaring from the truck in front of us. There was confetti flying in the air, Streamer cascading down from balconies, and half naked men every where! Our group strutted, danced, sang, screamed, ran, and swayed our way down the 2 kilometres of parade route. There was even some fire works as we passed the bar, Flinders. The home of the bear bar we partied at the night before. As we strolled along the crowds started to thin and finally there was a single line of people up against the fence.































































I hope these 2 videos work??


When we finally reached the end it was located at the arena where the dance big dance party for 25,000 people was being help. We didn’t attend. I needed to save something for next year. What surprised me the most was there were no services for anyone outside of the arena. No bathroom and no water or food vendors. Me and many others had just danced our way down Oxford Street for more than 5 hours and while there were port a potties at the beginning that was a long way back. Now I and several other people had to find some pushes to pee in. We did manage to find a drinking fountain but the stream was so strong it shot about 10’ past the fountain. Thirsty people don’t care so we drank the warm water and tried not to spray those around us. What transpired was a face and beard full of water. But at least I didn’t have to pee and was no longer thirsty. After making our way back around the parade route to avoid the spectators and the last of the people streaming down the street. We were completely sober at this point and making our way past heaps of garbage and drunken people of all ages and lifestyles. Drunken people, hanging on to each other, some even passed out on the sidewalk already. Shawn, Jim and I made it back to their hotel to catch up with the crowd before heading to the bars ourselves. The rest of the evening was spent in bars chatting with the many people from all around the world. Sunday was spent in bed, with a slight hangover but most just catching up on my sleep. Sunday evening I met Shawn and Jim for dinner and organized the logistics of our flight back to Melbourne on Monday.



I met the guys at their hotel and we shared a cab to the airport. Once we breezed through security without so much as slowing down, air personal has no idea who we really are, without having to take anything out of your carry on luggage. Breakfast was next on the agenda a $15.00 Australian style breakfast consisting of 2 fried eggs, big sausage link, 2 No fat all meat slices of bacon (more like ham than bacon), a grilled half of tomato, with toast. As we walked to our gate I got paged over the airport intercom. Who listens to those airport announcements anyway? But there was my name in the subliminal messaging of the airport hum. I found my way to the customer service desk. The lady that paged me said I had to go to baggage gate 17, back outside security. Across the terminal I go. When I arrive at gate 17 the young women informed me she had just retuned from a break and had no idea why I was paged. I thought I’d check my boarding pass and found the one I had was my old arrival ticket and I didn’t have the correct paperwork. Still miss “just had my break” wasn’t so sure and asked around. When I convinced her I needed a new one. She finally did ask to see my ID! Too prove who I was. She just the went into standard mode quickly giving me another pass with no more questions. As I walked through the gate she suddenly found my old boarding tickets just to the side of her keyboard. “Oops there it is?” her only comment. My boarding pass back in hand I head for security again and my gate. The lesson here is you don’t need ID to get ther first boarding pass but you do to get a second one. This seems a little backwards. Then again we are down under and everything is a just a little different.



The flight itself is very short and in no time at all we are in our rental car heading for the CBD of Melbourne and the Grand Chancellor Hotel, Shawn and Jim’s home away from home for the next few nights. IN the afternoon I gave the guys a tour of my neighbourhood, with a walk down to the beach in St Kilda, about a kilometre away. We had drinks on the patio at the surf club along shoreline the watching the sunset across Port Phillip Harbour, a great way to start our time in Victoria. Dinner was at Carlisle, a fanciest place just a few blocks from my house with GREAT food.

Tuesday was our big day driving along the Great Ocean Road out to Port Campbell and back. A almost 600km (360 miles) day trip. We stopped and had lunch in Lorne. The famed town from the surf trip a few weeks ago. We made our way across the Otway peninsula to the high sandstone cliffs that make up the national park. As you can see this trip was much more sunny and dry than the last time I was out here, back in November. We did the usual tourist high points, but this time I actually got down on the beach, via some steps about 200 of them (I didn’t actually count. ) Standing on the edge of a continent always makes me feel small and wonderful at the same time. Our return route was inland through a few little backwoods Australian bush towns. Places where the sheep and cows out number all other life forms. We made it back to town about 7pm, 11 hours from our start, oh so long ago.

Wednesday morning we all slept in, I returned the rental car and then wandered the city with teh boys, having lunch in the laneways, a stroll along Southbank by my office and the casino. Then spending and hour looking for Brunetti’s Italian pastry and coffee house, but it is so much more than just that. It has sugary confections beyond your wildest dreams. Hot chocolate that is really just melted chocolate in a glass. Cakes piles high and covered in elaborate shapes of chocolate shavings. Scrumptious singles serving dessert that takes your breath away. Can you tell I like this place! Everything they have is just yummy! We got a small tray of about 10 of those little tiny bite size treats to sample as much as we could. As usual the evening was full of drinks at the bars. The great thing about not having a car and living in a city with a good public transportation system is I can drink and not have to worry about driving home!

Thursday was spent on my own. Shawn and Jim wanted some down time by the hotel pool before getting on the plane back to early spring in the Northwest. We met for dinner on the Restaurant Trams. 3 old vintage trams, decked out with one way tinted windows, thick warm curtains and upholstery, a very good tiny ass kitchen/bar/waitress station, with seating for a crowded 30. Our end of the tram was the smaller side with seating for 12. But tonight there was only 9 giving us all a little more elbow room. The staff was prepared and as the tram started to make its way champagne was flowing with a small plate of capsicum (red pepper) dip and liver pate. There were 2 choices each for the remaining courses. It wasn’t hard to see we we’re all getting the beef fillet. From one end of town to the other on a 3 hour tour of the sites of Melbourne we drank, conversed with our new friends and were fine dined. A wonderful evening was had by all! This is something I’d recommend. It was smooth ride and very enjoyable service with high quality food and free open bar. The guys and I had to walk back through the casino so we ended up saying our good byes there.

Friday morning the boys left town for your hemisphere and my life went back to the routine we all make for our selves. I enjoyed the last few days of my vacation at home by sleeping late and getting caught up on rest of my Melbourne life. I have found a new sax instructor I’ll be trying out next week and have rented a car for the long 4 day Easter weekend coming up April 9th. I’m thinking some where in far eastern Victoria or maybe Southern tip of New South Wales along the coast. More national parks I need to check off in the book. Oh yeah and its payday this week. Always a nice thing when you only get a fresh influx of cash on a monthly basis.

Until next time people near and far who read about my travels.

PS: HAPPY 50th Birthday to Robert Jones on march 26th. You made it!!