Not quite the Point to Pinnacle

"Good morning and welcome to the Point to Longley!" boomed the man on the loudspeaker at the start line of the Point to Pinnacle event this morning, to a mixture of cheers, boos and laughter from the crowd. I had found out half an hour earlier from one of the friendly registration people that due to ice and snow on the last 4km of road leading to the top of kunanyi / Mt Wellington, we would be using the alternate route to the Longley Pub. It was not considered safe for all the support buses to get to the finish line.

While it looked sunny up on the mountain from Hobart, I had seen the piles of snow on Sleeping Beauty as I drove in, and as we walked closer to Fern Tree, the wind was very icy and waves of rain were passing through - so probably snowing at the top. You can see the rainbow over the mountain in one of my photos below. All along the route local residents came out to watch and cheer, some playing music (see the couple on the bagpipes at Fern Tree below!), some handing out snacks or water and others offering high fives. It was pretty incredible seeing the runners come past. There are some super fit folk out there.

Completing the Point to Pinnacle, a half-marathon length walk (for me anyway), has been on my bucket list for ages, and despite finishing the course today in 3 hours and 1 minute, I still haven't done it! Now I'll have to try again next year. You just never know what the mountain is going to throw at you.

Chook jungle

Over winter, the chooks were housed in the lovely old pickers-hut-converted-to-henhouse which is warmer and drier and better able to cope with snow than our fancy new chook mansion (above). The soil in the mansion's yard had turned into a barren clay bog, so over winter we added wood mulch and grass clippings, and I added handfuls of 'green manure' seeds - a mixture of grasses, peas and beans designed to add nutrients to the soil. Then spring hit, and the grasses, peas and beans took off, creating a small edible forest for the chooks to move back into last weekend! In one week they've managed to flatten most of it, but it has given them a lot of nice insects and tasty leaves to peck. The only downside to having them in the lovely clean and new house is that it's closer to our house, and we can now hear Mr. Vladimir Putin the rooster crowing at sun up. Which at this time of year is pretty early. Oh well. Meanwhile, we still have three roosters disguised as Barnevelder hens. I'm hoping that by moving the dominant male (Vlad) into a different house, they will start to show their true feathers.

The year of the echidna

Last week a neighbour gave me a lift down the road to the monthly movie night at the Palais (we saw The Merger, a terrific Aussie film, you must see it). He remarked that he's seen many more echidnas this year than in past years. You almost can't drive up or down our road without seeing one of them trundling along or digging into the clay bank on the side of the road. David and I had said the same thing only the day before. We've seen lots of them at our place too, making their way across our front paddock or across the road. One evening we saw our dog Gretchen sitting and staring at something in the corner of the yard. It turned out to be an echidna happily digging its way into an ants nest. This week, I managed to snap a few close ups of another one in almost the same place, pulling up tufts of grass and digging a hole. Echidnas in Tasmania have more fur and fewer spikes than their mainland Australian cousins. Aren't they just gorgeous?

Fledgelings

Photo: David L. Moore

Each year, we track the progress and parenting success (or otherwise) of the beautiful pair of welcome swallows that nest under the back deck each year. This year our visitors are very efficient. They arrived early in the season and promptly started building a clay nest, lined with material including Bernese Mountain Dog hair and Huon Blue chook feathers. Today the first batch of three chicks reached the fledgeling stage and headed out of the nest, while their anxious parents swooped around and chirped loudly to warn us off. David managed to snap a few photos of all three babies with their typically wide mouths and scruffy new feathers, sitting in the sun on our garden furniture. Next comes the more difficult task of flying back into the nest! We love watching and listening to these beautiful little fellows. Never mind the pile of poop on the back deck.