Wet boots drying after a Bogong High Plains ramble cut short by a deluge . . . reflection time . . . I didn’t enjoy this remote-ish hike as much as many I’ve done over the last half decade. Why?
I’m not sure. What seems exciting one year can suddenly pall, what takes one’s breath away can turn humdrum. Hiking comprises so many different pleasures – the challenge of hardship; nature’s beauty; peace and quiet; steady physical activity; the satisfaction of being organized and coping; camaraderie; a step out of normal city life . . . There are so many varieties of bushwalking, of different types and standards . . . I’m not sure if something is shifting in me or if I just need to hike more (which won’t happen this year).