Tag: hiking

Choosing the Right Waterproof Bag: Tips and Reviews

Dry bags for wet situations! A look at ways to keep your stuff dry when on the water.

I have used all types of waterproof bags in my paddling life. As a rower, kayaker and SUPer I have worked my way through dry bags, phone cases and plastic bags. I’ve tried waist clips, shoulder clips, board clips and a string around my neck. I have more dry bags than handbags.

Of course it will always be up to personal choice and comfort so there is no perfect solution for everyone. The perfect solution is the one that works for you.

Dry Bags

The good old dry bag is a sure thing. It’s purpose built to keep your stuff dry, and provided you fold the top over correctly (at least 3 times) it will work. I use a dry bag to carry things on my board because I have straps that I can clip onto.

Who doesn’t love an Aldi bargain?

You can buy affordable dry bags anywhere. My faves are a set I got from ‘the aisle of dreams’ at Aldi. I also have bags from Sea to Summit which are more lightweight but just as effective. I have used the heavy-duty bags from Red Equipment – the 30L Waterproof Roll Top Dry Bag Backpack is great for using on your board or on your back.

Dry bags all the way when on the ocean!

Phone Cases & Bags

Since the dawn of the smart phone we have been seeking ways to protect them from getting wet, getting cracks, or getting lost!

Like everyone, I have purchased every new phone case known to woman. I had a great one that used to clip around my waist but the seal eventually gave up the ghost and I resorted to dry bags.

New Equipment

Which brings me to my latest piece of Red Equipment. I recently trialed on my SUP board and while out hiking, the Lightweight Waterproof Crossbody Bag 7L.

Disclaimer: I am an affiliate for Red Equipment but this doesn’t influence my opinions. While I believe in their products, my reviews are my opinions only.

This 7L bag is the ideal size for carrying your phone, keys and a piece of clothing. I carried my lightweight puffer jacket, phone, snack, keys and glasses on my latest hike. I used it as a crossbody bag for a while, before changing it to my waist. I found the waist placement much more comfortable and easier to access.

When I carried it on my SUP board last weekend I used it as a crossbody bag which was better than I thought. I had thought it would get in the way of the paddle but it was snug enough to keep out of the way. In future I will use it on my waist as that is my preference.

I persevered with using it in the crossbody style because that’s what it’s marketed as. It is better as a waist or shoulder bag in my opinion.

The bag does have a separate zip pocket inside for your phone and keys which would keep them dry, but I’m not convinced that your other gear would stay dry if fully immersed in water for any length of time. It has the roll down top used on dry bags which works better the more you put in the bag (if that makes sense).

I am an experienced paddler so falling in is not (usually) on the cards for me (if I chose not to) so I feel comfortable using this bag to protect my gear.

Were I to be out on the ocean or in a situation where falling in was a certainty, I would probably opt for a dry bag on my board or extra protection within the Red bag.

The bag itself is a nice looking bag and it comes in three different colours. It has an adjustable crossbody/waist/shoulder strap, and outside zip pocket, straps for bike handlebars and an external bungee system for extra items.

It is hardy and feels like it would survive almost anything I could throw at it or in it. This bag retails for $78.95 – if you use my link you get 15% discount.

So I guess it’s dry bags all the way for me on the water. They are good in most circumstances due to their reliability and cost. If ,like me, you love a good ‘fanny pack’ , ‘bum bag’ or whatever you call them, the RED Equipment Waterproof Crossbody bag is a pretty cool addition to your bag wardrobe.

Lighthouse Kid – Lisa Ikin

Living on the lighthouses was sort of like that TV show, ‘Round the Twist’ in more ways than you think!

Forty South Tasmania

When I finished my 3-day Three Capes Track hiking experience earlier this year I realised after pitching to many publications that I probably needed to tell this story in the land it was set. So the lovely people at Forty South Magazine, a magazine I have long admired and read, took me up on my offer of tourism travel blog with a side of memoir. Enjoy 🙂

I have scanned the magazine as best I could.

Forty South Tasmania – Lighthouse Kid Lisa IkinDownload

All in a Day #20 – Hiking Mt Cooke Darling Scarp WA

Mt Cooke Summit Hike WA – an out and back hike in winter to enjoy the Western Australian bush at it’s finest.

A Sunday morning in June, we woke before daylight to the intrusion of an ugent alarm. Setting off as dawn showed her sleepy face. The roads were quiet and mist lay low over the highway – parting as we approached. Currowongs littered the road side foraging for early morning roadside snacks – I have never seen so many before.

We needed maps to find the entrance to the hike off the Albany Highway about 50 minutes from Perth. No sign posts, just a sandy track through plantation pines and scrubland.

Cars in a row marked the beginning of the hike. A quick check of the AllTrails app confirmed we were indeed in the right spot. The sun peeked through the trees and I knew we were in for a treat!

The hike started gently with a narrow trail, damp with last night’s dew and covered in boot prints meandering through grass trees, jarrah and rocky outcrops. The climb to the ridge was steep and sometimes slippery. Rocks glistened in the morning sun with water and sodden moss – green and lush.

The bush in this part of the scarp seems to have suffered less from the recent drought than bushland in Kalamunda. Some sapling had died back in the understory but the mature plants appear unscathed.

The trail led across the ridge where 360 degree views of the forest and surrounding lands took our breaths away. When we reached the summit a low mist was still hanging over treetops – we felt like we in the clouds.

The summit to Mt Cooke, the highest point on the Darling Scarp, is marked by a pile of rocks. A skull shaped boulder greeted us as we turned the corner. 582 metres above sea level. We continued on for another 5oo metres finding a clearing for a rest and a drink.

Some of the biggest Xanthorrhoea grass trees I have ever seen, towered over us. Their trunks blackened by a recent fire. The river beds were dry aside from some small pools of shallow water from recent rain. Enough to keep wild life sated.

The sun warmed us as the clouds and mist lifted slowly revealing the lands and trees below. We really had chosen the perfect time of day and weather for this 2 hour hike. Fellow hikers were few and far between despite several cars at the base.

A short rest and some snacks at the top before we turned back the way we had come. The way down was a bit treachourous and slippery, but we reached the car quickly while enjoying the views all over again on the way down.

An extremely beautiful and moderate hike! I will definitely be back to travel further and to complete an overnight hike in the area in the future.

What’s the skinny?

The Mt Cooke Summit hike is a 80km drive from Perth on the Albany Highway

Mt Cooke is within the Monadnocks Conservation Park https://exploreparks.dbca.wa.gov.au/park/monadnocks-conservation-park

Make sure you carry water and first aid when hiking

The hike joins the Bibbulmun Track so there are options for overnight hikes to Mt Sullivan. Camp grounds on the other side of Mt Cooke.

Xanthorrhoea Grass Trees can live for hundreds of years

Dogs are not permitted on the Bibbulmun Track

Download maps before leaving as coverage is hit and miss

All in a Day # 13 – The Blue Mountains once in a blue moon

A chance visit to Sydney and a trip to the Blue Mountains – my latest All in A Day adventure

When I found myself with three nights to spare on a recent trip to Sydney I decided to head for the mountains and spend some quality time with family in the tiny town of Blackheath – a community with its head in the clouds and its feet firmly anchored in some of the most amazing rocks I have ever come across!

So I boarded a train in Sydney town – Central Station, and settled in for some scenery and a rolling train trip. I had been out partying at a client’s award presentation at the swanky Star Casino the night before (the reason for my trip) so to sit down for a couple of hours was the perfect solution.

When I arrived in Blackheath just over two hours later my neck was sore from looking this way and that. The only time I had ever been into the Blue Mountains was when I was ten years old. My grandfather drove my sister and I to Katoomba where we got out of the car and stood to gawk at the Three Sisters. Then, back in the car for the trek back to Sydney.

My grandfather liked to show us grandkids all the tourist attractions. Bondi in the summer (where he argued with a parking attendant about the exorbitant parking fees – in 1974) the Harbour Bridge (where I remember dropping coins into a bucket for the 1974 Cyclone Tracy victims) the Opera House – looming above and a visit to Luna Park (where I wore a polkadot dress with a Peterpan collar that made me look ill in the hall of mirrors), Warragamba Dam, where we did the entire tour of the inside of the dam wall, and finally Bullens African Lion Safari Park where we sweltered in his small car with all the windows wound up (to prevent lions entering) and no airconditioning. It was like he had a list and he ticked them off one by one.

I remember getting into huge trouble when we got home from the Blue Mountains trip because I had thrown a chunk of chewing gum from the back window and it had stuck on the duco! Hard as a rock. I had to help remove it.

Deidre was at the Blackheath Station to greet me. A long time between visits for both of us, I was looking forward to catching up. We arrived at her small blue home nestled on a hillside surrounded by trees and soft green grass. I breathed in deeply and it felt (or smelt) so familiar even though I had never been there before. Deidre lives in paradise and I couldn’t believe it took me so long to get there. Tasmania is never far from my memories when I find myself in the bush and this reminded me of Tassie.

We lunched and chatted until tiredness overcame me so I snuck off for an afternoon nap in the attic room. A soft single bed with loads of warm doonas and pillows – I drifted off to the sounds of parrots and sulphur crested cockatoos in the back ground, cool mountain air arrived like an unannounced guest through the open window. I could feel it was going to be cold at night.

I woke up and made my way downstairs after putting on some layers and closing the bedroom window, cold indeed. We made plans to go and watch the blue moon rise over Govett’s Leap. It had been magnificent the night before when I caught it hanging over the city.

Deidre filled thermos cups with delicious pumpkin soup. We took spoons and warm clothing and drove to our pitch dark destination. All the makings of a grand adventure.

We sat in the car and sipped on our soup before getting out out to view the rising moon. I had no idea what scenery lay before me as we clutched the rail and looked out into the dark until I visited two days later during the day light hours. Wow! The moon did not disappoint and we stayed to watch it disappear behind a cloud as a young couple howled from the carpark not far from where we stood. Our bones were chilled so we got back into the car to escape the icy air that enveloped us.

A brilliant night’s sleep – warm and comfy and in the bush – my three favourite states of being. The next morning I set off on a solo adventure as Deidre had some work to do. I decided to follow the railway line – certain that the views would be magnificent somewhere. I wasn’t wrong. After 5 km I came across a group of 20 somethings organising their gear to head to the cliffs for some rock climbing.

I chatted to them and they noted my camera. “The views from where we are going are pretty amazing” one of them said, “follow us down if you like.” So I waited while they loaded their bags with carabinas, ropes, snacks and helmets and fell in behind them – piggybacking onto their adventure – as they skipped down the trail with bags the weight of a human body on their backs.

They reached the edge and I took some pics without getting too close to the long drop. They asked it I would take their photo and I said “yes, as long as I don’t have to hang over the edge.” Photos snapped I bid them farewell and made my way back up the slope. Very steep. Once I reached the top I decided that I had satisfied my need for an amazing view and I had a 5km return walk, so I patted my camera and turned back the way I came.

Blackheath is a sweet little town with the usual supermarkets, bakeries and butcher shops you find in those small places. A visit to the local supermarket where the shelves were so close you have to shimmy past others coming from the opposite direction, a great coffee from Altitude Cafe and some vegetable pasties from the local bakery, I was ready to return to Deidre’s for an afternoon of gin and cakes with some of her friends.

A couple of gins in and the sore calves from the mornings trek started to relax. The lovely company of some friendly locals combined with the warmth of the heater and warming drinks made for a super relaxing afternoon. Once everyone left we helped ourselves to another piece of cake and a cup of tea, chatted some more before we headed to bed.

Another good sleep and I was ready for another hike. This time I decided to head back down to Govett’s Leap to see what I could not see the evening I arrived (breathtaking) and then onto the Grand Canyon Hike- a 7 km loop that took me down into the depths of middle earth and back out again.

Extreme steps on the way in meant extreme steps on the way out. I loved every moment of the trail – ferns, trickling water, waterfalls, thick bush, creatures (a snake, a bearded lizard and some sort of a ground dwelling brush bird) It was like paradise. I was not so enamoured of the steep steps on the way out but at least I was prepared for them.

It always amuses me how people forget that what goes down must go up (in this case). I had a conversation with a couple going the opposite way to me and who had just reached the bottom – they told me that there would be a “bit” of steepness on my climb out, but it shouldn’t be too bad. I, on the other hand warned them of the climb they faced at the other end. I believe both ways were equally steep.

By the time I reached the top those calves were singing! I made my way back to the carpark with a full camera (literally ran out of space) and a full heart. And made my way home for a rest and something to eat.

That afternoon we got in the car and set off on another adventure into Katoomba – around 15 minutes drive away to check out the Three Sisters as the sunset. Groups of tourists and families gathered and took photos of one another and themselves- laughing and having fun in the cool soft light.

We then visited the beautiful Carrington Hotel – a grand dame of a hotel with chairs that enveloped us in their lush cushions. I had a Lemoncello cocktail before we headed out to dinner at the local Thai restaurant. I was ravenous after all my extreme exercise. The food was so good.

My final night and more chats before falling into bed – my last night in the mountains. I slept well and woke early before jamming my reluctant clothing back into my (too small) bag. Final coffee and a final chance to chat. Before boarding the train all the way to the airport and on to Perth. I had only been away from home for five nights in total but it felt like so much more.

What’s the skinny?

  • Blackheath is at the highest point of the Blue Mountains – altitude 1065 m (no wonder I felt breathless!)
  • The town is 120 km west of Sydney and you can train there in a couple of hours
  • Katoomba (home of the Three Sisters) is 10 minutes down the road
  • The Carrington is a grand old dame in Katoomba – worth a visit
  • Govetts Leap will take you breath away
  • If you can deal with steep climbs and steps The Grand Canyon hike is amazing
  • Blackheath Bakery Patisserie makes the best vegetable pasties!
  • Rock climbing is very popular in this part of the world.
  • A Blue Moon is not really blue.
  • Visit the Three Sisters at sunset and remember to practice your echo.
  • Bullens African Lion Safari was a thing! Bullen was a circus owner and he made wildlife parks in NSW and Queensland. The NSW park was near Warragamba Dam
  • If you would like to experience Blackheath and you are looking for a lovely room in an AirBnb Deidre is you hostess with the mostest.

All in a Day #12 – toenail moon and rocky outcrops

Under the Milky Way we camped. On the site of an old town in the middle of the Western Australian wheatbelt.

The Western Australian Wheatbelt is so unassuming from the outset but so rich when you dig deeper (or in this case: climb higher).

A camping trip to Kwolyin Camp site in the middle of wheat and canola country was the perfect weekend getaway for three adventurous women. We arrived mid afternoon on Friday to set up camp on the old Kwolyin Town site around 40 km from Bruce Rock and 7 km from the nearest shop in Shackleton.

The camp site was spacious and the sites are not marked so it’s first in best pitched. We chose a spot not too far from the toilet block (flushing loos it might be said!) but far enough away so as not to be disturbed by comings and goings.

I had already been distracted on my way in, by a sign saying ‘Kokerbin Rock’ not far from the campsite turn off and had made a detour to check it out. So when I arrived I was full of stories. ‘Monlith this, monolith that!’ Incredible, in case you were wondering. More about that later.

We pitched our tents and helped Lainey hoist up her fancy camp trailer with everything (and the kitchen sink) included. Chairs were placed strategically around the fire pit and then we prepared for dinner as the sun set behind the trees. Fire lit and bubbles in hand – all was good with the world.

The night sky was incredible. The toenail moon the milky way pulled us into the void – this trip was going to be the trip I finally sorted out my camera settings and got some astro shots. But not tonight – we ate, chatted and enjoyed the serenity before tucking ourselves into sleeping bags. There was a definite chill in the air!

The next morning I emerged from my tent to find our camp site enveloped in mist – the sun struggling to push though. The nearby sheep (that had impossibly long legs) were obviously distressed about something (maybe the mist) because we could hear loud baaing across the camp ground.

We sparked up the fire and brewed some coffee and tea. A cook up breakfast was on the cards – eggs, mushrooms and tomatoes with toast. Incredible! We had already discussed our plans for exploring the Granite Way the night before and decided to head straight out to the furthest rock, Mount Stirling, first up.

We hit the gravel road where rock after rock sprung from the flat wheat country. Most rocks were on private properties so access was limited. Mount Stirling was incredibly striking – rising from the newly planted crops – deep green and lush. A drive around the side of the rock took us to the shell of an old church and some strange person-made rock structures that had the hallmarks or sacrifice? My wild imagination thought so anyway. They were probably someones attempt at a picnic table – nothing sinister.

The grass was long and hard to walk through – mosquitoes were everywhere (I regretted my choice of wearing shorts) but we managed to get fairly close to the base. There were some Picnic at Hanging Rock vibes – Mirandaaaah!

Because most of the rock was on private property there was no access to the back end of it. We discovered a sign at the entrance where you could climb the rock. The ascent looked quite steep.

Next we did a drive by some of the other rocks on the trail before heading back to Kokerbin Rock (the one I had explored the day before) because I knew it had walking trails and summiting the rock was relatively easy. The sun was out and warming us up by this stage. We walked around the edge of Kokerbin Rock and climbed part of the way up. The views were spectacular – yellow, green and brown.

Within the camp site is Coarin Rock – walking distance from our tents. We missed this one even though it was so close.

We stopped and chatted to a Kellerberin local who runs the fruit and veg shop – out for an explore on her day off. Back at camp a group of ‘detectorists’ had gathered and they scoured the land for old pennies. They wore gaters, head phones and boots, carried small collapsible shovels while their metal detectors let out a constant high pitched beep when they discovered ring pulls, tin cans and the occasional piece of history. I had an overwhelming urge to shout ‘what r u got?’ – a line from the Tv series “The Detectorists” but I think I was the only one who had seen it.

Instead we asked them questions about what they expected to find and it was all very interesting! I had an urge to buy a metal detector and join in the search for treasure.

The detectorists retired for the afternoon and the whole campsite seemed to have a siesta. Flies buzzed and the breeze washed softly over our camp. I think we all fell asleep.

Time for afternoon drinks and nibbles followed by dinner prep. Lainey delivered the goods and wrapped every conceivable vegetable known to womankind in foil. We set up the fire to produce coals and then placed everything strategically into the coals. Everything was perfectly cooked and incredibly delicious!

There is an air of Saturday night celebration in the air as the camp site became more populated. Groups of people chatted around fires while listening to music and dancing under the Milkyway.

I had written down some instructions on how to take astro photos before leaving Perth so I was ready for nightfall and the promise of clear skies. After our veggie feast I set up my camera and played around for a while. At last something ressembling Astro photography emerged on my playback screen. I had photographed the universe! Not bad for a first effort.

We were tucked up in bed around 9:30 pm. Then, up the next morning to pack up camp and head back to Perth. What a grand adventure!

What’s the skinny?

  • Kwolyin Camp Site is around 200 km out of Perth
  • The camp site has basic facilities and fresh water is available
  • The Granite Way is a 60km self-drive trail to see giagantic granite rocks throughout the wheatbelt shires of Bruce Rock, Quairading and Kellerberrin.
  • Camp fires are permitted in the cooler months – always check first. Bring your own wood.
  • Astro Photography is a bit of a buzz and as long as you have a camera or even a phone anyone can have success.
  • The closest shop for staples is 7 km away in Shackleton
  • Picnic at Hanging Rock is an eerie story made into an equally eerie Peter Weir film in the 70s
  • The Detectorists is a quirky look at the sub culture of metal detecting – worth a watch.

All in A Day #11 – Dwelling on Dwellingup – a ‘cusp of Spring’ Break

All in A Day takes a break from camping to enjoy the luxury of a winter cottage.

Crisp mornings with a dash of sunlight , steam rising from rooftops. Quick – light the fire! Walks through the forest across the road and relaxing on the verandah. Pretty nice way to spend a weekend!

A box fire warms the front room, providing a glow to the cheeks and the cockles of our hearts. What actually is a cockle? Note to self – find out the origins of cockle.

The bush beckons from the front verandah. Glimpses of ravens hopping across the road, glossy wings half extended. Always up to something – no good? Smaller offerings – Flaming Robins, Blue Wrens and New Holland Honeyeaters flit about proving hard to capture (in my lens).

The drive to Dwellingup is delicious – green pastures, random cows and copses of bush. Some flooding from all the recent rain. I stopped in Pinjarra for groceries and lunch. Whisky to make hot toddies as I have lost my voice – three days and counting.

I always feel like I have forgotten something when I am not camping. Camping is simple – grab that box, that crate, that bundle. Airbnb is just throw more and more stuff into the car and slam the door. More than I need and not everything that I need. Unfortunately one of things I grab is a bundle of keys – story about that later.

About my voice, or lack therof. I have been whispering like a creeper for a couple of days. No other symptoms, just no voice. So I sit and listen mostly. Hot toddies with whisky, honey and lemon do nothing but warm those cockles. Oh well, not all bad.

Then, lazy afternoon sun, birds a cacophony (there is no better word) of sound. A stroll to the railway station where historic carriages and diesel engines languish. The Hotham Valley Steam Train must be out steaming up the tracks. High vis enthusiasts tend to the aging trucks and engines. Visions of Sodor.

Backyard hounds strain on chains, their voices harsh with barking. Poor creatures lack stimulation. Pampered city pooches with little room to move are treated like kings and queens compared to these country dogs.

Meals appear at intervals. First breakfast, second breakfast, brunch, snacks, dinner – punctuated with drinks (and cheese).

Then, woken (or shaken awake) at 5:30 am by an earthquake – 5.2 on the scale. My bed felt like someone was trying to get me out of bed. I leapt up to check that everyone had felt the same thing. Some thought vertigo.

Last morning – ice on the car windows. Memories of childhood when ice was a daily occurence, kickstarting the Peugot 404 and casting a bucket of warm water on the windscreen only to have if freeze again as we trundled down the drive heads out of windows like dogs catching the breeze.

A drive down to Lane Poole Reserve to catch the flowing river and go for a final walk through the forest. The river flowing and frothing like a milkshake and the steam still rising from the ground as the sun thaws the ice.

Then, home to unpack and relax. Another superb weekend.

What’s the skinny?

  • Dwellingup is around 1 hour and 15 minutes from Perth
  • We stayed in an AirBnb on the edge of the forest
  • Pinjarra is about 20 minutes away for any major shopping and Dwellingup has a well-stocked IGA, some lovely cafes and a restaurant or two.
  • Lane Poole Reserve is a National Park 20 minutes out of Dwellingup and you can camp there – Bookings essential for most sites.
  • Water sports including kayaking and paddle boarding are popular in this region
  • Mountain Bike trails are everywhere – in the parks and around the town
  • The Dwellingup Hotel (Dwelly Pub) is perfect for a pub meal!
  • Cockles of your heart –dates back to the mid-1600s, a time when scientific texts were often written in Latin. The Latin term cochleae cordis means ventricles of the heart, and most probably, the word cochleae was corrupted as cockles.

All in a Day #9 Hot Air Ballooning in Northam

A hot air balloon flight over Northam in the Western Australian wheatbelt has me hooked. Ballooning is like flying in a dream.

Hooked on a Feeling (or the most fun you can have while being dangled beneath a sheet of nylon and a roaring flame – 4000ft in the air)

May 2023

“We’ll be landing next to the cemetary, but hopefully not as a convenience!” Pilot Nick quipped as we ascended to 4000 ft.

Pilot Nick wasn’t flying a plane but the biggest hotair balloon I have ever seen. To be honest it was the only hot air balloon I have ever encountered, up close. We were here because I had purchased balloon flights for Anthony’s birthday. A great gift for someone who has professed to a fear of heights!

We were up at 4:30am to meet our pilots (yes they are actually called pilots) Dan and Nick. It was pitch black outside and just a bit chilly. After our brief we were piled onto a bus and a troop carrier, towing a massive wicker basket, to go find our take-off destination.

Not your usual trip to the airport. We headed out of the town of Northam towards open fields. Much chatter over the two way radio and we found a barely concealed entrance and a gate (the first of many). Riding rough shod over fields and a small creek, pausing to ensure the basket was going to fit under low hanging trees, we finally reached our destination – the top paddock. Sorry sheep.

Liberty Balloons has two massive balloons and they quickly set about unfurling the nylon ‘envelope’ (that’s the official term for a balloon) and unloading the massive baskets. I noted with relief that the baskets were divided into four sections to prevent an imbalance.

We had been informed during our briefing that ballooning is a hands-on experience and it would be all hands on deck to get everyone up in the air. Volunteers from our party helped unfold the nylon fabric and get it ready for inflation. While this was happening another balloon company arrived with two big balloons and a private ballooner with a single basket.

Top paddock was beginning to look very surreal. The sheep were nowhere to be seen and mushrooms of intense colour slowly emerged from the golden grass and inflated around us. The first part of the inflation process involves fans of incredible power. Once there is enough air, heat is introduced – horizontal flames powered by liquid propane shoot into the opening of the envelope.

As the balloon lifted and became vertical it was time for us to clamber into the basket. Twenty people in each – five in each section and the pilot in the middle. The basket feels very substantial and nicely padded. “Practice your landing position!” shouts Nick. Landing position entails bending your knees to absorb any impact on landing and bracing yourself against the back of the basket. While Anthony was worried about being up in the sky, landing was probably my worst fear, to be honest.

The sun appeared, glowing orange highliting the wet grass. We can see where we are now. A padock not far from the main road, surrounded by trees. Smoke from nearby burn-offs hangs in the air, mixing with early morning mist.

Finally it is time and Nick sends a blast of flame into our envelope. The basket shifts slightly before the tethering rope is released and we lift off and move across the field, narrowly avoiding trees. It is now that I have a flash of memory – Ian MacEwan’s “Enduring Love” where a man is caught by his leg to the rope secured to the balloon as it takes to the air. I hazzard a peek over the side, no one dangling from the rope. I shake that memory loose as we lift higher under the power of propane and barely perceptible wind currents.

Ears pop as we reach 4000 ft and the gas is switched off. So silent, so still – no one says a word. As we peer over the edge and gaze down on Ballardong Noongar booja at the natural and person made lines, Aboriginal paintings come to mind.

I feel the same as I do when I fly in a dream – sublime! The current changes as we rise to catch it and we are now above the other balloons. That’s a photo I never thought I would take! A balloon from above.

We take a right turn and cruise down the mighty Avon River following its path into town. The CBH silos look like Lego land from afar and parts of the low lying land are swathed in mist. Tiny houses and even smaller cars. I count swimming pools in back yards and feel like I am in a dream.

Before we know it, its time to find somewhere to land. The ballooners have an agreement with local land owners about landing and taking off from their paddocks. One never lands in the spot where you take off and one also never really knows where one is going to land! Consequently there is communication happening the whole time between balloons and the ground crew who are ready to drive to where ever we land and pick us up.

The cemetary was to our right and so too was a vast paddock inhabitated by sheep. That was our final destination. “We will land somewhere here” claims our intrepid pilot before reminding us of our landing stance. The ground was suddenly moving very fast below us, “Brace yourself!” The basket caught the earth and dragged across the ground, almost tipping over. Collective “oohs” and nervous laughter as we ground to a halt.

It’s hard not to jump out but we all remembered the warning “You are all ballast! If you jump out everyone else floats away!” so we wait as the ground crew secure the balloon. The second balloon hot on our tails swoops into the paddock herding a flock of sheep before it and disappears over the rise and lands not unlike our balloon. We laugh at their plight, not unkindly, but knowingly.

Now its time to earn our breakfast. The balloon has to be folded and put back into the box it arrived in. As a seasoned camper I know how these things go. When does any piece of camping equipment ever fit back in its bag?

The crew rally us to complete this final chore before we can get on the bus and head back to breakfast. Lift, push, fold, carry and repeat – suddenly its gone. The object of such incredible joy is a damp piece of nylon stuffed into a crate. I wouldnt fancy the job of taking it out and airing it . Does that happen? I wonder.

The life of a balloon pilot sure would keep you on your toes. Thanks for putting me back down safely on my toes. In the words of our pilot Nick “A balloon flight one walks away from is, indeed, a good one!”

What’s the skinny?

  • Northam is one hour + 20 mins (96 km) from Perth City
  • If you are hot air ballooning you must book in advance
  • Ballooning only takes place from April – October
  • Stay overnight at one of the hotels or camp grounds as you must be up at 4:30 am to go ballooning!
  • The Farmers Home Hotel does a banging pub meal and breakfast
  • There are two balloon companies operating from Northam – Liberty Balloon Flights and Windward Balloon Adventures
  • A two hour balloon flight will cost you around $350
  • While in Northam visit the Bilya Koort Boodja Museum – indigenous centre for cultural and environmental knowledge
  • Check out the silo murals on the outskirts of town

Welcome to All In A Day

Early in 2023 I decided to focus my writing more towards travel and adventure. Travel writing is my passion – it doesn’t even feel like a job!

I also pledged to write an All In A Day piece every couple of weeks – Short adventures and musings that may or may not involve travel. I have loved this challenge and will continue for the forseeable future. Some of these experiences have become paid gigs that have been, or are about to be published in print or online.

While web content and copywriting (sometimes) pays the bills, and I enjoy the lifestyle freelance copywriting has allowed me to have, it doesn’t bring me the same joy of a well-worded travel piece or blog .

With changing economic times and AI thrown into the mix those web content and copywriting gigs have become more scarce. When businesses realise they can’t trust their business brand to AI there may be a turn around. But, until then travel writing has my back.

I hope you enjoy my blog. Unfortunately (or fortunately) if you spend time in my company you may also end up in my stories. I will always do my best to represent you in the shiniest way possible 🙂

What’s the skinny?

  • I will provide links and hints at the end of each blog.
  • The links I have provided are not sponsored, nor am I affiliated with any of the businesses I speak of (unless I say I am)
  • If you want me to write something for you, hit me up – this is my Lisa Ikin Writer hat.
  • I can write anything – web content, social media, blogs, emails…
  • Thanks for reading – you can subscribe and make comments 🙂

All in A Day #6 Lane Pool Reserve Camping

When bookclub decided to go bush we didn’t expect to be treated to Mother Nature at her most rock n roll.

March 2023

All in a Day #6 could be more aptly titled “All in a Night” but to maintain continuity the title remains!

“It’s not going to rain much,” – were the words I heard just before I rolled over to go to sleep on night two of our bookclub camping trip.

The day had been idyllic. We woke that morning to the sounds of Currawongs, Ravens, Kookaburras and black cockatoos, while the soft rays of sunshine filtered through the Jarrah forest onto our tents at Charlies Flat in Lane Pool Reserve. After a hearty cooked breakfast of scrambled eggs (the best Doci had ever had!) mushrooms and tomatoes washed down with lashings of coffee and tea, we decided on a walk and a swim.

Doci and I set off to walk to Island Pool while the others opted to drive. Island Pool, about 1.5 km from our camp spot at Charlies Flat, is the widest expanse of water in the currently still Murray River. It is a popular swimming spot with deep clear water and rocks for basking upon. There is a small island of rocks in the centre, hence the name.

Doci and I first heard the rumbles of far-off thunder while walking and decided that it didn’t seem close enough to be of concern. The clouds had cleared and there seemed to enough blue sky for us to assume that all was going to be well weather-wise, that and Doci’s bones said it was not going to rain. Little did we know that Mother Nature was merely sound-checking for the main event!

We floated in the not too cold waters of Island Pool for about half an hour – waiting for our fingers and toes to take on wrinkled “granny hands” and for the peaceful surroundings to sooth our bones and minds. Water is certainly the great healer.

The remainder of the day was punctuated by rumblings and we had the occasional discussion that rain might ensue, but not enough to stop us from heading for another welcome dip closer to camp after lunch and a small glass of bubbly! The five of us set off for the river with pool toys and a blow up mattress and slipped into the cool waters for a second swim. Our swimming souls sated we headed back for more snacks and further alcoholic offerings – after all being outdoors makes you ravenous (and thirsty)!

Snack time merged into dinner time where we all ate our body weight in cheese and nibblies and enjoyed the sounds of the evening. The sounds we had heard the night before and thought to be recalitrant birds was actually microbats – so we recorded their high pitched sounds for future reference.

It was starting to get dark when we decided the rumblings were closer and the sky looked slightly more ominous than before. We had a discussion about whether or not we should batten down the hatches or not worry too much. It was Elaine who said “Imagine how we would feel if we did nothing and the storms took us by surprise” .” So we sprang into action. It should be mentioned at this point that we had no phone coverage so we were very much relying on Doci’s bones and the general vibe of the atmosphere to accurately predict the weather.

Doci’s bones were still communicating with her and she assured us that she didn’t think anything major was going to occur weather-wise. We decided to err on the side of caution and scurried about putting things away and making sure that everything was out of the weather.

The thunder and now lightning was circling ever closer as we played a game of Bananagrams and had final drinks before bed. A spot and then another spot gave us reason to congratulate ourselves on our timely battening down of hatches. I was the first to go and tuck myself into my tent and I listened to the drops increase to a pattering and the voices of the others still discussing the likelihood of us being washed away.

Doci’s words “It’s not going to rain much” were still ringing in my ears when I woke to what can only be described as a surround sound vortex of continuous rumbling circling above our camp site punctuated by lightning flashes and, by this stage, torrential rain.

To say I felt vulnerable is an understatement – protected by a couple of millimetres of tent fabric and the massive trees looming above me, I asked that Mother Nature at least be kind and if I were to be struck by lightning, make it fast and painless. Needing to pee added to the anxiety – nothing like the sound of flowing water to make that thought never leave your head!

I hoped everyone else was faring ok – Jill in her swag, Nat in her newly purchased Aldi tent, Doci snug in her Getz and Lainey up in her roof top tent (closer than all of us to the elements). I lay there watching the lightning and made up my mind that it was sheet lightning and not the dangerous forked variety. I am not sure if that made me feel better, or if sheet lightning is indeed the safer version of its cousin, forked but I did eventually drift off to sleep only to start dreaming about forked lightning, and once again woke with a start!

I don’t think I have ever experienced such a storm like that before. The rumbling didn’t stop. I can only liken it to a surround sound speaker system where the sound moved from left to right. Nature at its finest and most awesome (in the true sense of the word).

Needless to say we all survived the night – everyone emerged from their respective accomodations with wonder and awe in their voices and a different perspective and personal experience. Everyone’s tents held up under the heavy rain and our battening down of hatches was welcomed as most of our belonging were dry and protected during the night.

We returned to the city where it still appeared to be dry and storms had not happened with the same magnitude that we we expereinced. When describing the night to my family that night I realised that you really had to be there to even fathom what it felt like to be an insignificant dot in the universe while nature raged and rumbled above.

The five of us will never forget the night nature turned it on.

What’s the skinny?

  • Lane Poole Reserve is in Dwellingup – One hour + 20 minutes (114 Km) from Perth.
  • Camping must be booked ahead of time for most camp areas.
  • There are 50 000 acres to explore – for hiking, mountain biking, horse riding or kayaking.
  • Take everything you need including potable water.
  • Always check before lighting a fire – fire restrictions apply.
  • Mobile coverage is hit and miss. Download maps before leaving Perth.
  • The closest town is Dwellingup

All in a Day #5 Nannup Music Festival

When festivals all but ground to a halt in 2021 and 2022 there was a part of me that wondered if we would ever return to normal. 2023 has rolled around and festivals are back!

Nannup Music Festival 2023 – Festivals are back! March 2023

Festival companions: Anthony, Elaine, Leanne & Helen

Nannup Music Festival is an annual tradition – the music festival falls on the long weekend in March at the start of Autumn.  It’s that time of the year when the sun keeps shining, and the humidity is hanging around, making everything and every one slightly sweaty.

I have been going to Nannup Music Festival for many years with a group of friends who camp together on the banks of the basking Blackwood River, just a short walk to the heart of the festival.  We usually volunteer (well, some of us do) and get free entry to the festival.  The last time I volunteered it was as the bus driver – I circled Nannup in a mini bus until the late night hours!

This year was the first festival to be held in two years.  Last year the festival was cancelled due to Covid restrictions, but we went and camped sans music.  But in 2023, it was back on, and we were pretty excited to be there!

Nannup is a beautiful town set in the forest about 3.5 hours from Perth.  The town hosts the music festival like a well-oiled machine.  The pub is open to everyone, even if you don’t have a ticket.  The other venues require you to have a festival ticket. 

You can wander at will and enter any venue with the volunteer or ticket wristband.  The locals turn it on for the 4000 festival goers as they churn out marron pies from the bakery, beers, and counter meals at the pub, and even hold a Saturday morning market at the local chapel.

This year we volunteered behind the bar.  We had applied for our RSAs (Responsible Serving of Alcohol) online the year before, so we were ready to pour beer and make idle conversation with punters. The bars are situated in most venues inside a gated area.  The drinks selection is simple and easy to serve – no fancy cocktails or difficult requests.

So, let’s start at the beginning… Saturday

We had arrived the evening before (some of us a night before that) and set up tents, pop-top sleepers, chairs, and camping paraphernalia.   The banks of the Blackwood in March are still lush, and the water throws up reflections of trees. 

One tree, in particular, sits opposite our site – its roots cling tenuously to the bank. Every year there seems to be more soil washed out. The teens love to swing from the rope attached to a high branch. The more daring climb to the top and bommie down into the water – depth unknown.  While we sit on the bank, peering through fingers not wanting to watch.

We awoke to the sound of cackling Kookaburras at dawn. So first up, put on the coffee pot and the kettle for tea.  We slowly rose, groaned, and stretched as we waited for coffee or toast to cook.  It was Leanne’s 60th birthday, so we had planned to give her a surprise lunch at midday. 

We checked our programs for the music we would like to see/hear, and Anthony, Leanne and I set out for an early show while others lingered to set up the table with tasty treats and cake. We started our Saturday music feast with a band at the Amphitheater – a lovely way to ease ourselves into the festival. 

Coffees in hand, we sat in the shade close to the stage.  Once the band finished, we meandered back to the camp browsing the stalls for trinkets and clothing we didn’t require.  I stopped and booked a reflexology session with a good friend set up in the trees.  Sunday 10:00 am for a relaxing foot massage –I will need one by then!

Back at camp, the others have put out boards with a delicious selection of cheeses and dips, fresh tomatoes from the markets, and a cake purchased in Perth.  We popped a Prosecco and settled in for a feast, conscious that we had a bar shift looming at 2:30 pm. Birthday gifts were exchanged, and birthday songs were sung before we decided to rest briefly before our shift started.  Chairs, akimbo, and mattresses aloft, we surrendered to the location.

Much discussion was generated around the colour of this year’s volunteer attire.  The shirt was an insipid cream colour that we decided was oatmeal (after photographing it and using Google Lens). The last time we volunteered, the shirts were black – way more rock and roll!

2:15 rolled around quicker than we expected, so we quickly donned our oatmeal and set off for volunteer central to sign on for our shifts and pick up our lanyards.  I had never volunteered behind the bar – despite being a bar chick in my 20s for many years.  Just like riding a bike, I decided.  I had a shift at the Tigerville bar while Leanne and Elaine headed for the Amphitheater. 

The shift was fun, with some great bands backgrounding the session.  Taking money, popping cans, and chatting to happy festivalgoers was easy.  Most people came and thanked us for volunteering, and the locals were very appreciative.  Before I knew it, my first shift was over, and we headed back to camp for a cold beer and feet up before dinner.

Everyone converged on camp simultaneously, where we shared our various afternoon experiences.  Those who didn’t volunteer had been out seeing bands, while the bar tenders had tales of beer cans and bluster. Everyone was hungry and ready for dinner from the food trucks on the festival grounds.  We ripped off the oatmeal shirts and dressed in warmer clothing as the weather had cooled considerably since the afternoon.

We had dinner of Nasi Goreng from the Indonesian truck and consulted our band schedules as we made plans to enjoy a couple of hours of music and entertainment.  Most of us were tired, but we stayed up until 10:00 pm (not a bad effort!) 

Helen wanted to linger and see Liz Stringer at 10:30, but we decided it was too late, so we left her to see Liz alone and made our way back under the bridge to our campsite.  There was laughter and banter as we slipped and tripped on the gravel path, trudged through the clean river sand, and tramped across the boardwalk. 

A final glass of wine back at camp, as a nightcap, had us falling into our tents.  As I jammed my earplugs in and drifted off to the muted sounds of music and laughing campmates, I was filled with anticipation for the following day.  Nannup never disappoints.

and a poem to end…

Raising the Bar – a bar vollies lot.

JUICY is my pale ale
can I have two on card please?
I bought some Harry Angus merch
Can you help me find my CD s?
Sparkling wine and bundy rum
Can I have a stubby holder for free ?
Give me a can of your crappiest beer
It’s for my mate, not  me!
SSB by the bottle and keep cups filmed with dust
I want some bottled water please
Security guards look nonplussed
Managers are AWOL
Can i take your all your fifties?
Open the till hand over cash
Just press down one of the shift keys
Before we know it the bar is closed
Wine and beer to pack and stack
Off with the oatmeal vollie shirt
Next year we’ll be back!

What’s the skinny?

  • Nannup is about 3.5 hours from Perth
  • The town of Nannup hosts the Nannup Music Festival every year in March 1 – 4
  • The camping grounds for the festival are situated on the town golf course
  • Riverbend Caravan Park (where we camp) requires a booking 12 months ahead
  • The Blackwood River is usually very still at this time of the year.
  • The nearby Barrabup pool is a forest pool not far from Nannup and the perfect place to cool down in Summer.
  • Volunteers can register interest from October each year. There are many roles you can apply for including bar work, set up, rubbish collection and ticketing.