2000 Spring 6/12 hour rogaine
Spring 6/12 hour spring rogaine, Smoker's Gap, Namadgi National Park - 11 November 2001
Another angle on the Smokers Gap Rogaine
It was an absolute delight to see so many teams returning to the Hash House, beaming with enthusiasm. With so much rain and a good dose of fog when darkness fell, ordinary people would have been stumbling in with head down and feet dragging. But true to form, this bunch of rogaining people came bouncing in Tigger style, soaked to the bone and loving every minute of it. If I hadn’t had a few of my own adventures during the event, I would have been jealous as!
When I offered to help with the event, I wasn’t sure of what to expect. Some data entry, maybe a little adding up and hopefully some vetting. I was mostly right, although vetting didn’t seem to be my strong point. I discovered while helping Adrian set a very simple control that I was navigationally challenged. I certainly didn’t earn my place on the map.
Thanks to my trusty navigational aid, Graham, I did manage a last minute double check of control 50, while teams were pondering route choice for the event. Graham and I are still wondering what went through the minds of the teams who spotted us cruising around the course carrying one of their precious controls. We certainly got some strange looks!
The event highlights for me were collecting controls with Leon and Adrian (What was that formula for Teflon Leon?); eating pancakes; the toasty fire (fine effort Leon!); trying to erect the Admin tent without guys; eating pancakes; collecting the maps with Adrian at 16:30 the day before the event (close one Adrian!) and when Geoff and I finally spotted the two headlamps bobbing along the track at 02:30 on Sunday. It must have been 04:30 when I finally crawled into bed, feeling as though I had just completed a 24hour rogaine. I’m sooooo glad I didn’t have to run some crazy distance in the Brindabella Classic that morning!
Becoming involved with the organisation of an event (even in my small way) was a fantastic experience. Getting to know people better, understanding some of the processes and the amount of coordination it takes to get an event underway and simply being part of something that puts so many smiles on faces, all goes well towards a greater appreciation of the whole rogaine experience. I’ll definitely do it again!
Linda Ashton
Dogging it out to the end on the 12 hour
Saturday was overcast and cool. After packing Julie and I had to pick up an ‘orphan’ rogainer in O’Connor who had a team lined up for her by the team-matching service. Turned out she was the housemate of friends Amy and Carina! Arriving at the forest we parked in a handy boggy spot near the hash house and were met by our 3rd team member John Brown. We collected our maps and sat around the card table planning. In usual fashion I came up with a route that took in all the controls ‘just in case’, but there were plenty of options to drop stuff out if we got behind schedule. By 11am we’d covered our maps with contact. We packed and waited for the start while a light drizzle set in.
Adrian gave a quick briefing, then the usual clothes-line scramble and we headed for the nearest control 35. By the 4th control we’d finally climbed onto the plateau after a lot of traversing across steep slopes through wet bush with slippery logs and rocks underfoot. The next leg to 46 I totally stuffed reading the contours, then overcompensated and doubled back too early, wasting about 10 mins before we relocated off the Square Rock trail. The next few controls were pretty quick, taking in the Smokers Trail, but losing a lot of height. We passed John and Carol Harding at 54 pulling away across some lovely open granite country skirting rocky tors into a tea-tree lined creek and a cascade over mossy boulders at 83. A steady climb to 34 where we were already behind schedule, so dropped 55 & 56, easily picking up a couple more before heading south along the main Orroral Ridge. Broad ridges are notoriously hard to follow, and along the way I got confused and started heading down a side spur before the others convinced me of what was going on. Back along the main ridge we dropped packs and dived off down a steep boulder-strewn slope to 84. Our bearing led us to the minor spur and then the tape came into view, but on reaching it there was no control! Momentary panic, then we spotted the flag about 100m further down. After punching we removed the misleading tape to reduce confusion for others.
Back up the steep slope to our packs we cruised on along the main ridge finally reaching 101 with misty glimpses of the top end of Orroral valley below. The rain had now set in. It was about 6pm and we were less than halfway around our route with 6 hours to go and darkness in 2 hours. 73 was easy, and we picked up water at a little creek on the way to 45, and put on our rain jackets in final acknowledgement it wasn’t going to clear up. We varied our plan to drop the sucker 33, picking up 32 on the way to 80 instead. As we reached the control we were rather surprised to meet another team, Peter Crosthwaite and Debbie Maher, since we were still a long way from home. They too were heading to 62 next.
We headed off into the gathering gloom leaving the others behind. When it finally became too dark to see we sheltered beneath a small drippy overhang and scoffed down some cold pasta then put on our head torches. The mist had thickened, and with the back glare from the torch we could barely see 5m! 62 was on a rocky knoll at the top of the slope. We climbed onwards, finally running into the bottom of some unscalable rocks. Cursing them we skirted right before a rocky slope led upwards, then suddenly the control was right before us! Phew!
It was now about 8:30pm. We would be lucky to get 1 control an hour now, so a bee line for the hash house was the only feasible route. 72 was about 2km away on a vague little spur in a valley. We set a bearing and marched off. After a few minutes we saw the torches of Peter and Debbie and told them that 62 was nearby. Trudging on the sound of frogs greeted us as we entered a white patch on the map and sploshed through swampy grass and ploughed through tea tree thickets. Finally leaving the swamp of despair, we crossed the main ridge and started to descend. Our bearing took us down the line of a gully, but we skirted left to avoid dense tea tree thickets leaving the creek to our right. After a while the trees thinned but we encountered more dense tea tree. The fog was thicker than ever, and we had no idea how much tea tree would be along the main creek. The best option would be to cross it as directly as possible, then set a new bearing for the control. Skirting another huge tea tree the deep narrow channel of the main creek appeared. The new bearing was due north. I started pace counting. For the first 50m the creek kept pushing us across to the left, nicely consistent with the map. Even better, it was just grass and no tea tree thickets. Our line left the creek and after another 100m of pacing the slope started to climb gently. I told the others confidently we should soon find the control. I took off my head torch and held it at waist level (fog lamp style) to reduce glare, switching to high beam. The spur, if it was such, was very broad and we fanned out a little. A couple of minutes later a flash of orange appeared! Jubilation! Only an hour from the previous control too!
The next in our sights was 31 which would place us fairly close to the road back home. A bearing led us easily across the main creek up the gully. We climbed up and around the hill, but were unsure how far to go. Not wanting to miss the flag we dropped back to the line of the creek after about 500m. It was choked with tea tree scrub. I told the others to go on ahead in the more open forest alongside the creek while I thrashed up sometimes splashing along in the creek itself. In my frenzy I jabbed my thumb into the end of a branch, lodging a huge splinter under my thumbnail. Finally I broke through one last tea tree and the control appeared. I called to
the others, then noticed that the creek had suddenly opened out into a gentle grassy valley! Nice one Adrian!
We cruised up the bowling green, briefly toying with picking up 30 but deciding that 48 and 57 would be a better return on the 90 minutes or so remaining. My thumb was in some pain and I tried to lever the splinter out with the declination adjuster on John’s compass but it was too firmly wedged. We climbed up to the road and I noticed that 48 should be reasonably easy to find if we could pick where the track started descending. We left the track and found the open gully. We’d overshot a bit and had to retrace back up the gully to the flag. The others headed back to the track as I punched, disappearing totally in the mist even though they were less than 30m away. I caught up to them again as Julie nearly ran into the locked gate. She and John climbed over, not even seeing the stile beside the gate!
Down into the pines, a short diversion along a spur easily picked up 57. Heading down to the track I tripped on a branch and fell heavily but was unhurt. We jogged down the gravelly track when suddenly I found myself overbalancing for a few strides then launching into an involuntary superman impression. I did a fine belly-flop onto the track, landing on the heels of both hands and totally winding myself. I rolled over and lay gasping for breath before picking myself up. A handy puddle allowed me to wash my hands and pick out a few bits of gravel. On we went, missing the first turn down the hill but picking up the next, adding another 500m travel.
With 15 minutes and a bit over 1km to go we hit the tar road, cruising to the finish with a few minutes to spare.
A good feed inside us, then it was time for presentations. Our score of 1400 saw us outright winners and proud owners of some nice new wine glasses. Peter and Debbie had still not returned by the time we came to leave, around 1am. The Sube’s 4WD was handy to get us out of the boghole, then we cruised back down through the mist heading for home. After a few km there was a car in the ditch, but no sign of anyone around. At Point Hut Crossing the floodway was under a bit of water. Through Gordon we came across a couple of women who’d just crashed their car avoiding a bike that someone had left in the middle of the road! They were OK, so we carried on home. After a nice hot shower I extracted the rest of the gravel from my hands and levered the log out of my thumb with a needle, then collapsed into bed at about 2am.
by David Baldwin
Read MoreAnother angle on the Smokers Gap Rogaine
It was an absolute delight to see so many teams returning to the Hash House, beaming with enthusiasm. With so much rain and a good dose of fog when darkness fell, ordinary people would have been stumbling in with head down and feet dragging. But true to form, this bunch of rogaining people came bouncing in Tigger style, soaked to the bone and loving every minute of it. If I hadn’t had a few of my own adventures during the event, I would have been jealous as!
When I offered to help with the event, I wasn’t sure of what to expect. Some data entry, maybe a little adding up and hopefully some vetting. I was mostly right, although vetting didn’t seem to be my strong point. I discovered while helping Adrian set a very simple control that I was navigationally challenged. I certainly didn’t earn my place on the map.
Thanks to my trusty navigational aid, Graham, I did manage a last minute double check of control 50, while teams were pondering route choice for the event. Graham and I are still wondering what went through the minds of the teams who spotted us cruising around the course carrying one of their precious controls. We certainly got some strange looks!
The event highlights for me were collecting controls with Leon and Adrian (What was that formula for Teflon Leon?); eating pancakes; the toasty fire (fine effort Leon!); trying to erect the Admin tent without guys; eating pancakes; collecting the maps with Adrian at 16:30 the day before the event (close one Adrian!) and when Geoff and I finally spotted the two headlamps bobbing along the track at 02:30 on Sunday. It must have been 04:30 when I finally crawled into bed, feeling as though I had just completed a 24hour rogaine. I’m sooooo glad I didn’t have to run some crazy distance in the Brindabella Classic that morning!
Becoming involved with the organisation of an event (even in my small way) was a fantastic experience. Getting to know people better, understanding some of the processes and the amount of coordination it takes to get an event underway and simply being part of something that puts so many smiles on faces, all goes well towards a greater appreciation of the whole rogaine experience. I’ll definitely do it again!
Linda Ashton
Dogging it out to the end on the 12 hour
Saturday was overcast and cool. After packing Julie and I had to pick up an ‘orphan’ rogainer in O’Connor who had a team lined up for her by the team-matching service. Turned out she was the housemate of friends Amy and Carina! Arriving at the forest we parked in a handy boggy spot near the hash house and were met by our 3rd team member John Brown. We collected our maps and sat around the card table planning. In usual fashion I came up with a route that took in all the controls ‘just in case’, but there were plenty of options to drop stuff out if we got behind schedule. By 11am we’d covered our maps with contact. We packed and waited for the start while a light drizzle set in.
Adrian gave a quick briefing, then the usual clothes-line scramble and we headed for the nearest control 35. By the 4th control we’d finally climbed onto the plateau after a lot of traversing across steep slopes through wet bush with slippery logs and rocks underfoot. The next leg to 46 I totally stuffed reading the contours, then overcompensated and doubled back too early, wasting about 10 mins before we relocated off the Square Rock trail. The next few controls were pretty quick, taking in the Smokers Trail, but losing a lot of height. We passed John and Carol Harding at 54 pulling away across some lovely open granite country skirting rocky tors into a tea-tree lined creek and a cascade over mossy boulders at 83. A steady climb to 34 where we were already behind schedule, so dropped 55 & 56, easily picking up a couple more before heading south along the main Orroral Ridge. Broad ridges are notoriously hard to follow, and along the way I got confused and started heading down a side spur before the others convinced me of what was going on. Back along the main ridge we dropped packs and dived off down a steep boulder-strewn slope to 84. Our bearing led us to the minor spur and then the tape came into view, but on reaching it there was no control! Momentary panic, then we spotted the flag about 100m further down. After punching we removed the misleading tape to reduce confusion for others.
Back up the steep slope to our packs we cruised on along the main ridge finally reaching 101 with misty glimpses of the top end of Orroral valley below. The rain had now set in. It was about 6pm and we were less than halfway around our route with 6 hours to go and darkness in 2 hours. 73 was easy, and we picked up water at a little creek on the way to 45, and put on our rain jackets in final acknowledgement it wasn’t going to clear up. We varied our plan to drop the sucker 33, picking up 32 on the way to 80 instead. As we reached the control we were rather surprised to meet another team, Peter Crosthwaite and Debbie Maher, since we were still a long way from home. They too were heading to 62 next.
We headed off into the gathering gloom leaving the others behind. When it finally became too dark to see we sheltered beneath a small drippy overhang and scoffed down some cold pasta then put on our head torches. The mist had thickened, and with the back glare from the torch we could barely see 5m! 62 was on a rocky knoll at the top of the slope. We climbed onwards, finally running into the bottom of some unscalable rocks. Cursing them we skirted right before a rocky slope led upwards, then suddenly the control was right before us! Phew!
It was now about 8:30pm. We would be lucky to get 1 control an hour now, so a bee line for the hash house was the only feasible route. 72 was about 2km away on a vague little spur in a valley. We set a bearing and marched off. After a few minutes we saw the torches of Peter and Debbie and told them that 62 was nearby. Trudging on the sound of frogs greeted us as we entered a white patch on the map and sploshed through swampy grass and ploughed through tea tree thickets. Finally leaving the swamp of despair, we crossed the main ridge and started to descend. Our bearing took us down the line of a gully, but we skirted left to avoid dense tea tree thickets leaving the creek to our right. After a while the trees thinned but we encountered more dense tea tree. The fog was thicker than ever, and we had no idea how much tea tree would be along the main creek. The best option would be to cross it as directly as possible, then set a new bearing for the control. Skirting another huge tea tree the deep narrow channel of the main creek appeared. The new bearing was due north. I started pace counting. For the first 50m the creek kept pushing us across to the left, nicely consistent with the map. Even better, it was just grass and no tea tree thickets. Our line left the creek and after another 100m of pacing the slope started to climb gently. I told the others confidently we should soon find the control. I took off my head torch and held it at waist level (fog lamp style) to reduce glare, switching to high beam. The spur, if it was such, was very broad and we fanned out a little. A couple of minutes later a flash of orange appeared! Jubilation! Only an hour from the previous control too!
The next in our sights was 31 which would place us fairly close to the road back home. A bearing led us easily across the main creek up the gully. We climbed up and around the hill, but were unsure how far to go. Not wanting to miss the flag we dropped back to the line of the creek after about 500m. It was choked with tea tree scrub. I told the others to go on ahead in the more open forest alongside the creek while I thrashed up sometimes splashing along in the creek itself. In my frenzy I jabbed my thumb into the end of a branch, lodging a huge splinter under my thumbnail. Finally I broke through one last tea tree and the control appeared. I called to
the others, then noticed that the creek had suddenly opened out into a gentle grassy valley! Nice one Adrian!
We cruised up the bowling green, briefly toying with picking up 30 but deciding that 48 and 57 would be a better return on the 90 minutes or so remaining. My thumb was in some pain and I tried to lever the splinter out with the declination adjuster on John’s compass but it was too firmly wedged. We climbed up to the road and I noticed that 48 should be reasonably easy to find if we could pick where the track started descending. We left the track and found the open gully. We’d overshot a bit and had to retrace back up the gully to the flag. The others headed back to the track as I punched, disappearing totally in the mist even though they were less than 30m away. I caught up to them again as Julie nearly ran into the locked gate. She and John climbed over, not even seeing the stile beside the gate!
Down into the pines, a short diversion along a spur easily picked up 57. Heading down to the track I tripped on a branch and fell heavily but was unhurt. We jogged down the gravelly track when suddenly I found myself overbalancing for a few strides then launching into an involuntary superman impression. I did a fine belly-flop onto the track, landing on the heels of both hands and totally winding myself. I rolled over and lay gasping for breath before picking myself up. A handy puddle allowed me to wash my hands and pick out a few bits of gravel. On we went, missing the first turn down the hill but picking up the next, adding another 500m travel.
With 15 minutes and a bit over 1km to go we hit the tar road, cruising to the finish with a few minutes to spare.
A good feed inside us, then it was time for presentations. Our score of 1400 saw us outright winners and proud owners of some nice new wine glasses. Peter and Debbie had still not returned by the time we came to leave, around 1am. The Sube’s 4WD was handy to get us out of the boghole, then we cruised back down through the mist heading for home. After a few km there was a car in the ditch, but no sign of anyone around. At Point Hut Crossing the floodway was under a bit of water. Through Gordon we came across a couple of women who’d just crashed their car avoiding a bike that someone had left in the middle of the road! They were OK, so we carried on home. After a nice hot shower I extracted the rest of the gravel from my hands and levered the log out of my thumb with a needle, then collapsed into bed at about 2am.
by David Baldwin
