Yesterday we drove up to Mt Macedon, a mountain about an hour's drive away from Melbourne. We didn't know how easy it would be to rent a car without Australian or international licences, but it was actually ridiculously easy. The guy didn't ask for any proof of any kind, and didn't even look at Leslie's licence. There were no restrictions on the car - I could have driven it, too, even though he'd never seen me and had no proof whatsoever that I wasn't a drunken 12-year-old. Google Maps are pretty good for Australia, so we didn't have any trouble finding the place.
The weather was decidedly inclement. It was extremely foggy, with very strong winds and periodic rain. I bought rain pants and a rain jacket last week (I think my jacket's in Ireland, the tourist board is very convincing with the whole Sunny Australia thing), so once I put them on and zipped and buttoned all up, it was fine.
I had my New York Medical College sweatshirt on, and wore its hood and my rain jacket hood. I looked like an Eskimo (or do we say Innuit now?), but it kept out the wind and the rain, and I was warm and toasty when we started moving.If you'v
e gotten this far and said, "huh, Cassidy's voluntarily hiking in the rain? What has Australia done to her?", I'll fill you in on the real story. I got out of the car with a little help from my friends. When we parked and I looked out the window at the rain and the fog and the wind whipping
around the trees, I thought the best plan of action was to stay in the car. Leslie convinced me that we should in fact leave our warm, dry car, but it wasn't an easy task.
Leslie had neither rain pants nor rain jacket, and no hat, though, so he should have been the one to lobby for staying in the car. He had a jumper and a winter jacket, but no hood or anything on his head, so he got wet from time to time. He also had jeans and no waterproof overpants, so his legs got wet. The jeans were also inadequate protection against the icky beasts of the forest, as we shall get to in a moment. He bore his wetness much more stoically than I would have.
The fog turned out to be really cool hiking weather. The woods were very dark and misty, and somewhat spooky. It was something like hiking through the rainforest (or what I imagine hiking through the rainforest would be like), but very quiet. There was the occasional songbird, but for the most part the only sound was our footsteps, and these were deadened by the mist and water.
Added bonus:
it was far too cold for snakes.
At the top of the mountain is a memorial cross (like that at Bray Head) to commemorate the soldiers who died in WW I. The original cross was struck by lightening and had to be taken down, so this cross is from 1995.
At one point along the trail we came to a place where there had o
bviously been a fire. The outsides of the trees were black, but amazingly, they were still producing bright green leaves. Nature is really incredible, that these charred husks still contained life and were still surviving, and even thriving. The bright green provided a very striking contrast with the black bark, making the sight very visually arresting.
Now for the icky beasts of the forest. When we were entering the forest, we encountered two women standing by the car park (they were the only ones we saw the whole time) in shorts. They were leaning over and picking at their legs. It was far too cold for shorts, but that was about all I thought about them, until one of them said "be careful of the leeches!" Leeches? Like in Medieval swamps? And Medieval doctors' offices (and apparently modern doctors' offices, but these are things I do not like to consider)?
About halfway through our walk, Leslie cried out "aah! There's something on my leg!" He rolled up his trouser legs to find that four leeches had taken up residency on his calves. He got them off, but the bite of one of them bled for many, many hours - I think leeches produce an
anti-coagulant. There was also one on the back of his jeans, and I got a picture of it before pulling it off (full disclosure again: I wasn't very brave about that, either, but I had to do it because he couldn't reach it). I hadn't thought that the leeches would get us because we were wearing long trousers and not shorts, but they were able to get under the bottoms of Leslie's jeans. My overpants have elastic at the bottom and are tight over the ankle, which is why I think I was spared the leeches. I found one on the outside of my rain pants at one point, but it couldn't hold onto the vinyl very well and brushed off easily.
We passed a
"lookout point" on our way out, but it was far too foggy to see anything but a white blanket. On our way back, though, the mist had lifted somewhat so we went back to the lookout point to see if there was a view this time. We got there right at sunset, and the mist had cleared, allowing us a stunning view accross the valley. It only lasted a few minutes - thick mist rolled back in very quickly and covered it up again. 
Leeches aside, though, the hike was beautiful and a very nice way to spend a foggy, windy, wet Saturday.
e gotten this far and said, "huh, Cassidy's voluntarily hiking in the rain? What has Australia done to her?", I'll fill you in on the real story. I got out of the car with a little help from my friends. When we parked and I looked out the window at the rain and the fog and the wind whipping
around the trees, I thought the best plan of action was to stay in the car. Leslie convinced me that we should in fact leave our warm, dry car, but it wasn't an easy task.Leslie had neither rain pants nor rain jacket, and no hat, though, so he should have been the one to lobby for staying in the car. He had a jumper and a winter jacket, but no hood or anything on his head, so he got wet from time to time. He also had jeans and no waterproof overpants, so his legs got wet. The jeans were also inadequate protection against the icky beasts of the forest, as we shall get to in a moment. He bore his wetness much more stoically than I would have.
The fog turned out to be really cool hiking weather. The woods were very dark and misty, and somewhat spooky. It was something like hiking through the rainforest (or what I imagine hiking through the rainforest would be like), but very quiet. There was the occasional songbird, but for the most part the only sound was our footsteps, and these were deadened by the mist and water.
Added bonus:
it was far too cold for snakes.At the top of the mountain is a memorial cross (like that at Bray Head) to commemorate the soldiers who died in WW I. The original cross was struck by lightening and had to be taken down, so this cross is from 1995.
At one point along the trail we came to a place where there had o
bviously been a fire. The outsides of the trees were black, but amazingly, they were still producing bright green leaves. Nature is really incredible, that these charred husks still contained life and were still surviving, and even thriving. The bright green provided a very striking contrast with the black bark, making the sight very visually arresting.Now for the icky beasts of the forest. When we were entering the forest, we encountered two women standing by the car park (they were the only ones we saw the whole time) in shorts. They were leaning over and picking at their legs. It was far too cold for shorts, but that was about all I thought about them, until one of them said "be careful of the leeches!" Leeches? Like in Medieval swamps? And Medieval doctors' offices (and apparently modern doctors' offices, but these are things I do not like to consider)?
About halfway through our walk, Leslie cried out "aah! There's something on my leg!" He rolled up his trouser legs to find that four leeches had taken up residency on his calves. He got them off, but the bite of one of them bled for many, many hours - I think leeches produce an
anti-coagulant. There was also one on the back of his jeans, and I got a picture of it before pulling it off (full disclosure again: I wasn't very brave about that, either, but I had to do it because he couldn't reach it). I hadn't thought that the leeches would get us because we were wearing long trousers and not shorts, but they were able to get under the bottoms of Leslie's jeans. My overpants have elastic at the bottom and are tight over the ankle, which is why I think I was spared the leeches. I found one on the outside of my rain pants at one point, but it couldn't hold onto the vinyl very well and brushed off easily.We passed a
"lookout point" on our way out, but it was far too foggy to see anything but a white blanket. On our way back, though, the mist had lifted somewhat so we went back to the lookout point to see if there was a view this time. We got there right at sunset, and the mist had cleared, allowing us a stunning view accross the valley. It only lasted a few minutes - thick mist rolled back in very quickly and covered it up again. 
Leeches aside, though, the hike was beautiful and a very nice way to spend a foggy, windy, wet Saturday.
