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It has been a more fulfilling weekend than I've had in a while. Friday afternoon I finally got my act together and took the dogs for a walk, catching up with a friend down at the dog park. As a result we are having dinner at his place next Sunday and I finally got to meet his lovely wife :-) Ren, Josh & baby Finlay came around, pizza in tow, Friday night and we helped them select the components for a computer.
Saturday morning saw some domestic duties and running around before picking up Will (Muzby - in town for business) and heading out to the Jazzy Cat in West End for a relaxed and delicious lunch, joined by a new acquaintance, Erin (Astrosmurf). Post-lunch we wandered in the Valley to see what the Fiesta was doing but beat a hasty retreat in the face of many drunken yobbos. Safely home we chilled out and made prawn laksa for dinner. Prior to drifting off to sleep the suggestion was made to venture out on a picnic in the morrow, providing the weather prevailed.
Prevail it did. Up at 7 (a sleep-in compared to recent 5am starts) we polished off the domestics and piled into the car a little after 10am, heading for Mount Glorious via Samford. After picking up lunch and indulging in morning tea at the wonderful Samford Patisserie (the best bakery I know) we headed on up the glorious mount and drank it all in: the views out to the bay and the islands (a little dulled by cloud), the rain forested terrain and the lovely fresh air. Stopping at the top for a quick look-see, we continued down the inland side where rainforest gives way to eucalypt forest and the resonance of bell-bird calls.
A spontaneous decision was made to keep going rather than the original plan to circle back to Mt. Nebo and then home. Alex revealed he had never seen either of the two major dams that supply Brisbane or any of the dry, lean country beyond. So we took the road to Somerset, encompassing the older and smaller of the dams, and on to the D'Aguilar Highway and the Upper Brisbane River. We stopped at a curious spot on the river where an old children's camp facility lies abandoned tot he cows. The derelict buildings and a decaying flat-bed truck were joyfully explored, evoking childhood memories and much curiosity. We continued on to Monsidale Creek, a tributary of the Brisbane just prior to it's split into two. On my last visit the creek was a 20m wide, crystal clear expanse of flowing water. Lush macrophytes provided an underwater garden and fish could be seen darting about. It was also raining, and I suspect it hasn't since, as the non-flowing water is rapidly shrinking to pools. Not as dry as I've seen it, but not the spectacle I was anticipating. We stopped to picnic regardless, and our perseverance was richly rewarded by the aerobatic spectacular of 3 wedge-tailed eagles spiralling through the sky.
The dry, red-brown country works up a thirst, so we refreshed with a beer at the Linville pub; a derelict old hotel in a timber-mill town on a road to nowhere of relevance (except to aquatic ecologists perhaps). Having our fill of the locals, we high-tailed it back to the highway then through the Brisbane Valley, taking in the larger Wivenhoe dam on our route home. Glad to return to the city after the parched paddocks and dry gullies, we were home by half five, satisfied with our adventure. Preparations made for the week ahead as part of new deals to keep life on track, Thai take-away thoroughly enjoyed, and it's time to retreat to clean sheets and a freshly-made bed. The only disappointment being a lack of film in the camera to document the occasion.
Saturday morning saw some domestic duties and running around before picking up Will (Muzby - in town for business) and heading out to the Jazzy Cat in West End for a relaxed and delicious lunch, joined by a new acquaintance, Erin (Astrosmurf). Post-lunch we wandered in the Valley to see what the Fiesta was doing but beat a hasty retreat in the face of many drunken yobbos. Safely home we chilled out and made prawn laksa for dinner. Prior to drifting off to sleep the suggestion was made to venture out on a picnic in the morrow, providing the weather prevailed.
Prevail it did. Up at 7 (a sleep-in compared to recent 5am starts) we polished off the domestics and piled into the car a little after 10am, heading for Mount Glorious via Samford. After picking up lunch and indulging in morning tea at the wonderful Samford Patisserie (the best bakery I know) we headed on up the glorious mount and drank it all in: the views out to the bay and the islands (a little dulled by cloud), the rain forested terrain and the lovely fresh air. Stopping at the top for a quick look-see, we continued down the inland side where rainforest gives way to eucalypt forest and the resonance of bell-bird calls.
A spontaneous decision was made to keep going rather than the original plan to circle back to Mt. Nebo and then home. Alex revealed he had never seen either of the two major dams that supply Brisbane or any of the dry, lean country beyond. So we took the road to Somerset, encompassing the older and smaller of the dams, and on to the D'Aguilar Highway and the Upper Brisbane River. We stopped at a curious spot on the river where an old children's camp facility lies abandoned tot he cows. The derelict buildings and a decaying flat-bed truck were joyfully explored, evoking childhood memories and much curiosity. We continued on to Monsidale Creek, a tributary of the Brisbane just prior to it's split into two. On my last visit the creek was a 20m wide, crystal clear expanse of flowing water. Lush macrophytes provided an underwater garden and fish could be seen darting about. It was also raining, and I suspect it hasn't since, as the non-flowing water is rapidly shrinking to pools. Not as dry as I've seen it, but not the spectacle I was anticipating. We stopped to picnic regardless, and our perseverance was richly rewarded by the aerobatic spectacular of 3 wedge-tailed eagles spiralling through the sky.
The dry, red-brown country works up a thirst, so we refreshed with a beer at the Linville pub; a derelict old hotel in a timber-mill town on a road to nowhere of relevance (except to aquatic ecologists perhaps). Having our fill of the locals, we high-tailed it back to the highway then through the Brisbane Valley, taking in the larger Wivenhoe dam on our route home. Glad to return to the city after the parched paddocks and dry gullies, we were home by half five, satisfied with our adventure. Preparations made for the week ahead as part of new deals to keep life on track, Thai take-away thoroughly enjoyed, and it's time to retreat to clean sheets and a freshly-made bed. The only disappointment being a lack of film in the camera to document the occasion.
