Three Men and One Hill

Early in the Autumn of 2005, three men set out to conquer one hill, the motivation was not as simple as "because it's there", while it's true there were certain machoistic over tones, their prime motivation was that they hoped aching legs and whizzing chests might help them forget their throbbing skulls.
Alas once atop the mighty hill they discovered they had not forgotten their throbbing heads and now were suffering from throbbing heads, aching legs and wheezing chests. The men each took a photo of the other two with the rather amazing scenery in the distance to hide the true purpose of the ascent.
An astute viewer will note that each photographer carefully chose the exposure in such a way to darken the faces of the members of the expedition, undoubtedly to hide their pasty pale complexions. Each man was suffering from events prior to the climb as well as the physicality of the climb. The camera tricks carefully not only hide much of the suffering, but also hide the growing fear in each members face, as they became to realise they are a very long way up a steep rocky cliff, that is much harder to climb down, and their legs had gone from wobbly at the start of the climb to near jelly by the time they clambered up the last section to the summit.

Near the top they stopped stared at a cliff face that ran the length of the narrow strip of rocks, that sat on top the the last cliff they had scrambled up, swaying slighlty profusly sweating, all turned around and realise how high they had climbed and how far it was to fall, finished the water eventually found a place to chimny up the last 4m of rock.


The journey down was slow and silent as they carefully guided their arching bodies down the treacherous slope, once at the bottom they plunged into the icy depths of the mighty Colo river, for a few minutes as the icy waters chilled their heated bodies, they felt perfect, devoid of any pain. It became clear that the arduous ascent and dangerous descent was their penance, while the view from the top was truly magnificint, the real reward was the enjoyment of floating along in tranquil bliss on the mighty Colo river, feeling at peace with a sense of accomplishment.
These three men went beyond lying around moaning while downing fist fulls of pain killers, they tackled unsurmountable odds, and conquered not just a hill, but a mountain, their own personal Everest, their hang overs their burden, their dehydration their altitude sickness, many a time the fractured million year old sandstone gave way under them and tumbled down below in mini avalanches, while the cracked sandstone offered many hand holds, each one was a potential home to a snake that could kill a man in their condition in less than an hour.

It may have been little more than a few steps for a man, But it was an expedition of massive proportions for a hang over.

When they finally stumbled back into the grounds of the McClaren Homestead they were welcomed with a traditional cold frothy amber liquid that was mildy alcoholic, with in minutes their aches and pains were gone, the throbbing stopped in their heads and they brushed off their feat as nothing out of the ordinary, they had recovered. So the next time you wake to find you have an incredible headache, a mouth that feels like the inside of an ashtray and only a blurred memory of the prior evening's events, I throughly recommend you try this traditional Aussie drink and leave the hill climbing to the professionals.



ADDITIONS

I would imagine a whole scout troupe would attack this Hill with high tech equipment such as ropes with chocks and pegs to anchor them to the hill, each member in identicak apperal with mountaineering boots, safety harness, helmets and even gloves. In total contrast these men were total hard heads, their only climbing equipment was their hands, a pair of volleys, a pair of city brogs, and one pair of work boots. The presence of the work boots was not on account of any foresight but a cunning plan to keep the wearers ankles out of cow shit, which he was certain he would step in, The only safty equipment was three sets of expensive glasses, the type that inner city types wear while quietly

The Photos

The Preparions

The Departure


The Final Push to the Summit


The Glory


Feeling worst

Still no good

How do we get down?


Back

Email james@jvodan.com