Will Work for Food

With nowhere in particular to be after I found out I had no reason to head north just yet, with the complication of not having the strongest funds, Phil and Sheridan suggested I stay with them and help them out with a few things they need done on their five-acre property. This sounded thoroughly compelling, as working for room and board would be the best situation I would have any hope of finding anywhere, and Phil and Sheridan's place is very comfortable. I was also thrilled with the return of Larry, who called his career as a sailor on account of dirtbag hippie boat captains with moldy hats, extremely slow progress due to unfavorable winds, exhaustion, and seasickness. He gave it more than a fair go, and no one can say he didn't try.

Phil and Sheridan have five horse pastures that needed some rocks picked and sticks picked up, and I have to admit I'm as accomplished at such work as anybody. Larry and I tag-teamed it for four days, and everyone is very impressed with our paddock clearing abilities. We're in the middle of pressure-washing their tennis court, which somehow feels weirder to say and see written than to actually do.

Though the week was spent almost entirely at work, Sheridan lined up an outing for us this weekend. She and her late husband had been very accomplished mountaineers and climbers. A friend of hers, whom she had taught to climb, is my age and climbs regularly in the Sydney area and in the Blue Mountains out from the city. He and some buddies of his went climbing this weekend, and Larry and I got to tag along.

We went to the Hawkesbury Lake area north of Sydney on Saturday afternoon. Luke had been there before, but missed the trail on the way in. His buddies were already at the climbing area, so we "bush-bashed" for two hours to find them. Scrambling back out again only took ten minutes. The scenery was great, but the climbing was beyond my humble abilities. Everybody else could climb most of the routes, but were annoyed by disproportionately tough spots.

We crashed at the house of 'Big Bird', a long-time spearfisherman. We had some of his own Wahoo catch waiting in the fridge, and it was some of the finest fish I've ever had; money couldn't have bought better fish. It was a fine evening, spent bantering and playing poker.

We headed for Joll's Bridge Sunday morning. Getting to this climbing area required walking along a busy hill road, climbing under a motorway bridge and up to the road, walking along the motorway, scrambling down a ways, then rappelling down. I climbed a little bit here, rather pathetically, but I enjoyed it and in my defense I haven't climbed in about two years. Again, the banter ran rampant, and I couldn't help but smile and shake my head during the day's several shady moments. This was a fun bunch. On a side note, it was also pointed out to me by a friend that these activities, except for maybe the rappelling, make me sound like a hobo. This makes sense, because that's pretty much what I am.

It's looking likely that I'll spend my last full week in Australia right where I am. I don't really have enough cash to go do anything too outrageous, but I'm certainly comfortable and feeling fairly productive. I'll be on my way back to Brissy next weekend or thereabouts, right before I'm set to jet again.