And so there have been demands for photographic evidence of me and the mountain, provided below, oh ye of little faith (and generally much sense).
T’is Mt Ngungun, one of the Glasshouse Mountains – according to my guide, the Old Man of the Mountains, apparently it’s the second hardest … or the second easiest, depending on how you look at it … I was promised the easiest one, but he lied.
And yes, it was raining … it was raining lots – people elsewhere were being washed away and we wuz scrambling up a wet rocky mountainy thingy … and how was it, I hear y’all ask.
It was aweseome.
Walking in the rain rocks (when one isn’t wearing high heels); the smells and sounds are more intense, which is good for a writer doing research. Wish we’d gotten shots of the climby bits – rocks and tree branches and water trickling down them. Keep in mind I am afraid of heights. How did I get down after the uppish bit? Much to the Old Man of the Mountains’ amusement: on my ass. No, not falling, just making my way down as close to the ground as I could – in fact, I discovered I may be part crab, having uncovered a heretofore unsuspected ability to move sideways using all four limbs, whilst still facing up. Had things required it, I may even have been able to be mobile through the simple expedient of my skin moving on its own.
Kudos to the Old Man of the Mountains for being patient and not laughing too much.
And yes, I am sore – everytime I move I make a noise of which Grandpa Simpson would be proud.
Photo one: not feeling as pathetic as I look.
Photo two: yes, I may have been swearing.
Photo three: wet rocks and bushy bits.
Photo four: cloud clearing briefly before closing in again with more rain.
* Title courtesy of a sniggering Old Man of the Mountains.
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