Autumn Hike
Created: 2022-12-26 (21:10:41) — Modified: 2025-06-16 (19:52:46)Status: completed
On a warm autumn day, I made the journey out to the concrete pillar. I had seen the bare hill across the inlet on previous visits, jutting way out into the reservoir. But on those previous visits there had not been time for the long hike. Either it was too late in the afternoon, the sun disappearing behind the rolling plains and the hills turning a deep evening violet, or it had been a wet and foggy morning, with sheets of rain sweeping down across the ridges and across the water.
Today though it was blue sky unmarked except for a row of cumulus accumulating behind the hills. From the gates, I followed the wide dirt trail between open paddocks and around midmorning stopped by a small dam that looked westwards across the hills.
The sun was still ascending. I continued on to where the trail curved down to cross the inlet. On a warm dry day like today there was only narrow stream across the concrete weir, leaving foamy suds. The eucalyptus and wattle on either side of the gully cast shadows over the water. I sat here a while drinking from my travelling canister and eating my sandwich.
I resumed the journey at midday, crossing the weir and now climbing up the opposite bank. Just before the top, I heard pigs snuffling and oinking ahead. I continued slowly forward, keeping close to the trees and supposing I could scramble up into one if they charged at me. But by the time I’d left the line of trees they were several hundred metres further along and moving downhill in the direction of the reservoir.
I followed the trail until it passed beneath my hill. I turned from the trail and scrambled upward through long grass, over jagged outcrops and between dead and sunbleached thistles. Just below the summit was a hidden grove of eucalyptus. I sat here in the shade to catch my breath, then explored the top of the hill.
The summit was marked with an old concrete pillar. It had four crumbling faces. Each face had a indent in it running from the top to the bottom. In one face were etched numerals too eroded and mossy to interpret.
Resting on the exposed side of the hill, the sunlight felt pleasant. I looked down across the water, north towards the dam wall and south towards the Great Dividing Range where the river headwaters rise. The furthest hills on the horizon were a hazy blue. On the other side of the reservoir, eerily hidden among trees, a four-legged trigonometry station.
I sat for a time by the concrete pillar and tried to come up with a name for this hill. When the shadows began to lengthen and the air turned cold, I turned around to begin the return journey.
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Tags: @completed @real-spaces
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