Me and the 5 British folk jumped the 10:45 into the city. Following a brief venture down Queen Street Mall, we dispersed, each going our own separate way. My first stop was the old Treasury Building, which had recently been turned into a casino and 5-star hotel. My intent was not to gamble, but to merely check out the place and see of what casino life down under was all about. I made it no farther than the door when I was told in no uncertain terms that anyone wearing sandals was not allowed. Strike one.

I wandered from there down to the Botanical Gardens, a massive spread that occupies the entire west end of the triangular shape plot of land that downtown Brisbane is built upon. The Gardens are a very nice place, though the interpretive signs could use some improvement for us visitors who are not at all familiar with the local flora. Nonetheless, the royal palms and various varieties of root-dropping fig trees are most impressive. From here I walked clear across downtown to the Roma Street parkland, another large botanical setting located just north of the main train station. The Roma Street greenspace functions more as a picnic park than anything and being Saturday it was filled to the brim with barbecuers and people watchers. I am finding that Brisbane, as a city, has one of the nicer set of parks of anywhere I have been, Paris aside.

Post Roma Street Parkland I ventured down Milton Street past Suncorp Stadium, the large rugby and cricket venue on the east side of town. This monstrosity rivals the large sporting stadiums found throughout the United States. Past Suncorp was the equally large XXXX Brewery. After some trouble locating the entrance, I found that it was only open for tours Monday through Friday. Strike Two. Rather than walk the few miles back to the city I waited for the train at the Milton Street station. Arriving back in town, I had originally planned to visit the Queensland State Museum, but with my luck today it probably required jacket and tie dress or had burned down in the middle of the night. Defeated, I decided to do my shopping and head home. The soap and toothpaste were easy finds, but I’ll be damned if any store in Brisbane carries a flyswatter. My plan was to be the savior on our next trip to the outback, but instead I wound up the fool, running to and fro in search of this non-existent piece of plastic. When I asked the clerk at Crazy Clark’s Discount Store (basically a Dollar General) if they had any, her look told me that either I don’t know the Australian word for flyswatter or they have yet to be invented over here. Strike Three

Back at the house, we had originally planned to go out at midnight to watch the finals of the rugby world cup, but a last minute time zone calculation discovered that the game was on at 4am not midnight. We all went to bed a bid defeated, though none as deeply as I. Strike Four.

What I Learned Today: Throughout most of my adolescent and adult life, hanging out with friends meant drinking, gambling, or otherwise leaving the house to spend money somewhere. I don’t say this as an admission of my degeneracy, but rather to indicate my usual expectations of time with friends. Being with a bunch of travelers, who like me are on a strict daily allowance, has opened my eyes a bit to the art of hanging out and not spending money, or drinking for that matter. There is a certain art to simply and cheaply existing in the presence of others and I fear I am sadly underdeveloped in this area. I hope this trip will cure me of this ailment.

written by  exumenius on October 20, 2007 from Brisbane, Australia
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Today was Lorelei’s birthday, so her, Daniel and I hopped a train up to Redcliffe for the day. An hour later and $8.60 poorer we arrived in Redcliffe, a small beach community, that, quite surprisingly, was the first permanent European settlement in Queensland (originally a penal colony for the worst of the worst from New South Wales) and one of the places the honorable Captain James Cook landed back in the day. The name is derived from the strange, spongish red rock formations that dot the beach. To properly celebrate Lorelei’s birthday, we had a pair of breakfast beers and then crossed the street to the beach. As is the case every Sunday, a small market was taking place and in the rear was a bit of live music. The solo musician, Juzzie Smith – who is truly a one-man band as his advertisement suggests – was hard at work on the harmonica, banjo, tambourine, snare, and didgeridoo (an Australian horn instrument made from hollowed out tree trunk.) His music is a tribal-folk hybrid and actually very good. Lorelei bought a CD for us to rip to my computer upon arriving home.

After our beers, we prompted strolled down to the beach, which was empty, ate lunch and fell asleep in the warm sand. An hour later, we went for a walk down the beach for a mile or so and eventually caught the bus back into Sandgate where we met the train bound for Albion.

At the house we had a small birthday party for Lorelei and afterwards wandered around suburban Brisbane until we finally found a pub that was open on a Sunday night. We were all pretty knackered and after a solo beer the group walked back home.

I had my first major casualty of the trip today. Before heading to the beach I packed my sandals into the side compartment of my day bag. Upon arriving at the beach, only one sandal had made the entire trip. Somewhere between Albion and Redcliffe my left sandal flew the coop.

What I Learned Today: Simple pleasures like digging in the sand or watching the surf eat your footprints never cease to please me. Something about turning off our neocortex (our wonderful mammal minds) and letter our older, simpler reptilian brains take over is one of the most efficient and enjoyable ways to relax.

written by  exumenius on October 21, 2007 from Brisbane, Australia
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Our task for this first week here would be to take a small 500-foot path through the woods and turn it into a meter-wide hiking highway full of stairs and topped with crushed red granite. Work on this job began very well and ended the same. The team easily split into groups of two, some charging ahead to clear a meter wide path, other pulling up all the rocks and some of us staying back to build the stairs and lay the gravel. Most of my morning was spent behind a wheelbarrow bringing load upon load of gravel down unto the path. It reminded me of wheeling concrete back during my Miron days. In the afternoon, a new line of wheelers took over and I switched to building stairs out of rocks. The bedrock here is exposed in many places and consists primarily of weathered rhyolite that is horizontally stratified. This is very good for trail building, as large flat stones are very commonly strewn about and are easily laid into place as steps for the trail. Lifting and moving rocks all day we came across a number of centipedes, scorpions and geckos, not to mention plenty of non-venomous spiders.

We finished up around 2:30 and packed up and headed into town for some supplies. Stanthorpe is about a 30 minute drive from Dragonweyr, just long enough to air out our stinky bodies. My main goal in town was to find some sandals after my mishap on the train last weekend. Though Stanthorpe is a small farming town it has a very nice downtown shopping district, including a Target Country, the store’s small town, main street type store. Inside I found some sandals and assorted toiletries for half the price of what we had been paying in Brisbane. Shopping here almost makes Australian prices seem reasonable. While we were in town we also stocked up on beer for the week. The rules of our volunteer program strictly prohibit alcohol on the job, but our team leader allows it in moderation, so long as everyone behaves and no one tells the superiors. A 30-pack of Carlton Mid (my second favorite Aussie brew to date, behind Toohey’s New) was had for $40.

After our pasta dinner we all sat around the table and played two truths and one lie, a camping game where each person has to tell two true things and one lie about themselves and the others have to guess which one is the lie. It is a great way to learn strange nuances about other people you have just met.

What I Learned Today: Our group, and likely all humans in general, enjoys working to a much greater extent when there is a clear goal in sight and progress is easily visible. Last week while cutting cat’s claw at Reedy Creek Ranch, morale was fairly low as there was no end in sight and progress was tough to monitor. Here at Dragonweyr, our goals are easily marked and the visualization of progress is quite obvious. As a result, everyone worked much harder today and the time passed much more quickly. I think we are all looking forward to the next two weeks of work, rather than dreading them.

written by  exumenius on October 23, 2007 from Stanthorpe, Australia
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Upon returning to the homestead following a short bush walk, Adrian was busy preparing a small forging demonstration for us. All of his smiting (or blacksmithing) is done on small charcoal forges in which the air is fed by hand crank. Starting with one burning ember, he added some old charcoal from his hot water heater and within minutes had a roaring bed of coals hot enough to melt a ½ inch steel rod. In fact, these small forges get so hot that you have to be careful not to burn the steel. His demonstration was comprised of him making a few large nails out of the steel rods. Nails are something we take for granted these days, but just 150 years ago they were very valuable things, so much so that many people would burn their house down when moving just to collect the nails (or so we were told). After he quickly formed a few large nails, it was now our turn at the forges. I’ll say this much, it is harder than it looks, especially forming a properly centered head on the nail. We all struggled for a bit, some of us making what could possibly be usable nails, given a skilled enough carpenter. In addition, he has allowed us use of the forges for the remainder of the week to entertain any creative fancy we may come across. After a bit of time, Adrian returned and quickly showed us how to make some ornamental leafs and arrow heads, not than any of us are skilled enough to copy this in the future. His wife then brought out a scrapbook containing photos of various items he has constructed over the years, as well as the numerous awards he has one. Swords, helmets, swings, garden tools, pots, pans, the list goes on; certainly a talented man.

In the late afternoon dark clouds gathered in the horizon, as much needed rain was approaching. Out here every drop matters and not an inch of the rooftops at Dragonweyr allow the precious water to escape. Their water tanks are nearly half empty, so the more the better tonight. This storm is especially well timed in that it allows us to the check the quality of our drainage systems along the newly constructed trail. I hope they all hold and we are not forced to do a major reconstruction project tomorrow morning. As we began to put on our extra rain flys and tarps over our tents we discovered we were a few tent stakes short. Not ten minutes later, Adrian had six new tent stakes for us fresh off the forge.

The rain held off until we were eating dinner, it poured down on us for about ten minutes and then stopped. A bit later a slower gentler rain took over. A good slow rain when sleeping in a tent is very soothing thing.

What I Learned Today: Technology has distanced us from many of the things that are so vital to our survival. This is not a new revelation for me, rather one so recently reinforced by our little blacksmithing demonstration today. We all use forged components each day of our life, but until now I hadn’t the slightest clue how much work forming a garden hoe or a nail, for that matter, once was. It makes the masterpieces of old that much more impressive. Blacksmithing is a dying art (though reviving in some circles) and some would say that is all for the best, however, I, for one, am glad that there are those who are keeping the old arts and trades alive, not only because they are enjoyable to learn and partake in, but also because they just might come in handy in the post-oil world.

written by  exumenius on October 24, 2007 from Stanthorpe, Australia
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Today we began work on the much larger trail connecting the Dragonweyr Reserve to its sister reserve to the south, owned by Adrian’s daughter and son-in-law, Jane and John. Trail work on this track would be much easier as stepping, woo-boys and granite are not required; a simple raking along with tree and stone removal would suffice. Daniel and I were tasked with large tree removal. Manning an ax and a saw we forged ahead of the group, sawing and hacking our way down the track. The rain last night had not helped our cutting efforts, as the wet wood tended to swell around the saw, constantly pinching us off. Nevertheless, by break we had progressed about 80% of the way down the track and returned to help the others with raking.

We knocked off work around 2pm, having nearly completed one half of the track (though some minor rock removal remains). Somehow, this job needs to last us through next week, so I imagine our days will only be getting shorter in order to properly pace ourselves. To pass some time, we made another journey into Stanthorpe in the afternoon. I was in search of a new book to read and a slingshot, neither of which were found. After returning to Dragonweyr, Matt and I went on a small bush walk, following the granite ridge in hopes of finding a high point for some nice view of the Main Range to the east. Loosely following some marked trails and partially forging our own, we located a few decent vistas, but nothing to take your breath away. On the bright side, I did come across a few great thinking rocks, large circular stones that appear entirely out of place in this landscape, as if they were dropped from the sky. It reminded me a bit of the Texas Canyon area in the Chiricahuas east of Tucson.

A delicious dinner of deviled sausages, steamed vegetables and mashed potatoes with garlic in our bellies, we retired to the porch for a game of eight-man British Shithead. This game has become quite popular in camp and doesn’t require a whole lot of skill. About nine o’clock the wind picked up and the storm that the forecaster had predicted for yesterday finally arrived tonight. Though being in a metal shed likely overestimated the true fury of the rain, it flat out came down, like it can only come down in a desert environment. Massive lighting strikes and flash flooding, a storm straight out of the Sonoran Desert. After about an hour of listening to it pound the roof and the ground, during a small respite, we made the mad dash to the tent and luckily found it nearly bone dry in our sleeping quarters. The roof had held, but the floor leaked in a bit of water from the rushing flash flooding on the ground. We were sleeping on two inch thick pads, so the bit of floor moisture wasn’t be a problem.

What I Learned Today: Food and manufactured goods are more expensive here in Australia than they are comparatively in the United States. This, however, is not a bad thing. A big portion of the reason is that the people employed in fruit picking, farming, and general labor and manufacturing jobs are paid better than they are in the US. Migrant farm workers –many of whom are foreign backpackers like me -- are paid between $15 and $20 an hour to pick peaches. To be a Marxist for a moment, capital exploits labor to much lesser extent in Australia. It appears as if the people here (simple farmers and small business owners) understand community level, demand side economics (now if only we could get our high and mighty Republican politicians to understand the same elementary concepts). I imagine this is an insight perhaps gained in part by their isolation both internationally and intranationally or maybe by the fact that the government does much less here to subsidize the cost of transportation (fuel) than we do in the States.

written by  exumenius on October 25, 2007 from Stanthorpe, Australia
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Pizza Night

By 8 pm the clouds had begun to break

Full Moon at Dragonweyr

What I Learned Today: The vast majority of us, myself included, are much more concerned about what fuel goes into our cars or what shampoo into our hair than what food we put into our bodies. I’ve always had the excuse of being too busy to concern myself with amateur dietenics, however, this is now fortunately no longer the case. The Omnivore’s Dilemma, which I read a few months back, got me to thinking more seriously about what I eat. Being out here amongst a cadre of vegetarians, hypoglycemics and otherwise food conscious people had again forced me to reevaluate my diet. As I’ve aged I’ve found that my mood swings have increased and I now think that my diet is likely to blame. It is funny that as you age things you used to think foolish endeavors you now realize have true substance, while other customs and concerns you grew up you now know to be entirely superfluous.

written by  exumenius on October 26, 2007 from Stanthorpe, Australia
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Byron Point

We arrived in Byron Bay around the noon hour

Peering East

We spent the better part of the day just hanging out on the beach and jumping in and out of the surf. The waves break nicely here and the surfers were busy cutting up the rollers. There is a bit of rip tide here, though more horizontal than vertical. It is no wonder the size of Fraser Island considering the ample long shore drift that is prevalent here. In the afternoon we went for a walk down Jonson Street, the main drag. Good looking girls handing out flyers for everything under the sun man nearly every corner. We managed to pick up vouchers for free internet and for a $3 dinner. At the internet kiosk, which doubled as a travel agency, I found a few good deals on trips to Fraser Island, Noosa and the Whitsunday and will likely book one tomorrow.

The crew came back to the caravan park for a quick shower before dinner. Hanging around outside we fell into an impromptu game of football (soccer) against the girls rugby team that was staying next door. Though outnumbered and undersized we managed to squeak out a 2-1 victory on the strong goaltending of our team leader John.
It took awhile to find the $3 dinner place, however, upon arrival we found out that the only catch to the $3 deal was that we had to wait outside in line at 8 o’clock when the deal began. The joint, The Cheeky Monkey,

Drinks at the Cheeky Monkey

Daniel Winning some Beer

After leaving the bar we stopped for a dirty doner kebab and then jumped into a cab for the ride back to the caravan park. I ended the night with an empty wallet and a bed consisting of a floor mat and my sleeping bag.

What I Learned Today: The surfer lifestyle has been glamorized in Hollywood for over thirty years now as the perfect pursuit for those wild and young at heart. Though I will admit that surfing does have the luxury of beautiful scenery and good-looking men and women (at least in the movies), I don’t think it is more fulfilling than any other hobby or lifestyle one can choose to practice. What surfing does have going for it, however, is the passion of its members and the community they have formed. These, the passion and the community, are what truly draw people to the ideal of the surfer’s lifestyle. Most of us long for such passion but cannot seem to find it in our daily pursuits. Going to work, paying taxes, grocery shopping, a weekly basketball game, our favorite sitcom; these do not stir the hearts of men. The community aspect is just as, if not more, important than the passion. When people are entirely committed to something they need someone to share it with. In this respect, surfing benefits through the geographic concentration of it members, i.e. there are only a few spots in the world to properly surf year round. Other hobbies such as hiking, stamp collecting, gardening, and writing erotica, for example, can be done nearly anywhere and thus the members are spread out all over the face of the earth. The internet is bridging these gaps, but there is no substitute for sitting around a beach campfire with other surfers sipping beer and telling stories of ridiculous breakers and shark sightings.

written by  exumenius on October 27, 2007 from Byron Bay, Australia
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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The Boys Working Hard

Fixing the damaged track proved a bit more difficult. We had to dig several significant drainage channels and completely reroute the first 10 meters of track. The woo-boys were deepened and a few cubic yards of gravel were brought in to replace what had washed away and to bolster what remained. By the lunch our all the repair work was completed.

Hard at Work

The night was a typical night here a Dragonweyr. Eating as the sun goes down, followed by some cards at night and early to bed.

What I Learned Today: It has been a month now that I have been living out of bag and sleeping on strange couches, floors, and the occasional bed. Decisions become much simpler when you are on the road. Often, wardrobe is determined by what is clean or what is on top of your pack. What to eat is generally what is available, or what is cheapest. And what to do with your time is limited to what is immediately surrounding you…no tv, no internet (usually), just you and the world.

written by  exumenius on October 29, 2007 from Stanthorpe, Australia
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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The Granite Belt Vista

Having completed the fire break, once

Climbing Aussie Style

I spent the remainder of the afternoon and much of the evening reading a book –Party’s Over by Richard Heinberg -- that I borrowed from Jane. Although the peak oil and its inevitability was nothing new to me, the book does a great job of explaining the history of energy and the human species, as well as how the oil companies evolved to the point of controlling the country’s geo-political policies. Written prior to the Iraq War, the author predicts almost perfectly what Bush was going to do and explains why. Though my cynicism no longer allows me to be surprised by anything done in the name of politics, it was still, nonetheless, a bit disturbing. Heinberg concludes the book by explaining why we are in such trouble and what, if anything, can be done to help ease the pain of the end of cheap oil. An easy read in the sense of understanding and comprehension, but a difficult read because chances are he is right and we will all experience these momentous changes during our lifetimes and we(most of civilized society) simply are not ready for it; hence the party is nearly over.

What I Learned Today: A quote from Heinberg (about society’s reaction to the Peak Oil): “ Human beings thrive on hope. Without some sense that our individual deliberate effort brings us closer to a fulfillment of our personal goals, we simply cannot function from one day to the next. And yet, hope often betrays us, as it blinds us to clear and evident danger and leads us to courses of action and inaction that will eventually result in the loss of our property, our livelihood, our liberty, and even our very lives.

If optimists see the glass as half full and believe that things are good and getting better, they may conclude that there is little need to be concerned about the future and hence fail to take action. On the other hand, when pessimists see the glass as half empty and believe the world is going downhill and getting worse every day, they may conclude that there is nothing that can be done and also fail to take action. It is the realists who, seeing that society faces dire and increasing threat, recognize that there is much that can be done to mitigate the worst of the likely impacts and take informed action to make the best of the situation.”

I have been raised a stout realist in most respects of life. In matters of society and macro-level decisions making ability my education, job and experiences have led me down the path of a cynic firmly in the direction of absolute pessimism. Conversely, in the personal realm, I am adamantly committed to maintaining a positive outlook based primarily on reason and realistic personal observations of the world around me.

In this day when the mass media and religious and political demagogues spin a strange one-two punch of fear-based pessimism quickly countered with Panglossian optimism it is no surprise that reason and facts find no place in the decision making matrix. What we need is healthy dose of realism, a great big glass of objective thinking. It is true that realism doesn’t have the constant, gleeful child-like euphoria of optimism, nor the communal, misery-loves-company angst of the pessimist way of life, however, it just might offer the truth and the ability to think for yourself, to exercise your mind, to be the cerebral individual that we all want to believe we are.

written by  exumenius on October 30, 2007 from Stanthorpe, Australia
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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