The Great Aussie Battler

What happens when a cancer doctor gets cancer? No, it’s not a riddle, it is a media phenomenon. The doctor, who won Australian of the Year in 2024, was diagnosed with glioblastoma in 2023, and, went from unknown (at least in the public eye) to media sensation as he embarked on a new treatment regime that was documented on various social media platforms, enthusiastically picked up by mainstream media (MSM) and even captured for posterity (although a post publication note may be needed) in a recently published memoir.

Most, if not all, the public commentary has been positive. We love the story of a battler, and what better battler than a cancer doctor who gets the disease he has spent his life working to eradicate. It could be the feel good story of the Australian decade. Except, it’s not, because, predictably, the cancer is back and time is limited.

The prognosis for glioblastomas is dismal and I can understand the desire, particularly for a relatively young and fit individual to try anything. What I don’t understand is the desire to make your private cancer journey so painfully public? Is it the TikTok/Instagram/Strava effect that if you didn’t post it (whatever it is), it didn’t happen? Is a cancer journey even analogous to my latest rip down the Mogo bike trails? I don’t think it is. One is a recreational pursuit, the other is a deeply personal, and probably (I don’t want to make any assumptions) traumatic journey that is unlikely to be improved upon by feeding a social media machine.

In a converse twisted kind of way, the inevitable recurrence of cancer seems somehow worse given the hype and near hysteria that accompanied the experimental treatment. The results of the neoadjuvant checkpoint therapy was described as “nothing short of phenomenal” and “generated in 10 weeks discoveries that would normally take years.” Where have we heard that hype before? Posted public comments such as “supposedly incurable brain cancer” must now make anyone with any sort of empathy weep. Is this “desperation oncology” as one prominent cancer clinician/researcher has written or merely the human propensity to have our hope validated by a larger audience? And does anyone, least of all, the afflicted individual, truly benefit?

International Womens Day

On International Womens Day The Guardian published an article about how terrible it was that men who identify as women are being returned to men’s prisons under the Trump’s new gender orders. The subtitle of the article was: “Incarcerated trans women report being groped by male guards.” That sounds terrible. Too bad, The Guardian did not think to cover any of the true incidents of men, who identify as women in order to do “easier time” who, upon being transferred to women’s prisons go on to rape and sexually assault women prisoners. There are dozens and dozens of these reports, but, as only real women are harmed by these incidents, they are not worth reporting, even on International Womens Day.

Such is the banality of evil we now live with every day. And the irony, of “pussy grabber” Trump actually standing against the ideologues to offer real protection to women is not something I thought I would see in my life time. But I also didn’t think the entire world would shut down over a virus that well over 99% of people survived. But then again, I didn’t think the Left would become the political party of war (as long as they don’t actually have to fight), or big Pharma, or big Food, or rampart authoritarianism or child mutilation the likes of which would have made Hitler proud.

I turned away from the Left when gender ideology went mad. I thought, “if you can convince people that men can become women, you can convince people of anything.” And here we are. A chunk of society believes men can become women and visa versa. This same chunk of society believes anything and everything the MSM pumps out. Their social media accounts are a continuously rotating rainbow of icons signalling the latest virtue. And, in their hubris, they “call out” – Lefties love to “call out” - anyone who disagrees as stupid and manipulated while not recognising that they have signed up to a cult which demands absolute and devout obedience to each new and increasingly ridiculous edict. How long until the Far Left cuts their own hands off to pledge allegiance to the latest hoax? Already they are cutting the body parts off children and young adults. Mental illness and the inability to give informed consent is not an impediment.

I’m now a single issue voter. I’ll vote for any party that dismantles the woke mind virus. I agree with Gad Saad. These are parasitic viruses which take over the mind of the infected. Wokeism is not, as Jane Fonda recently said, “caring about other people.” Woke is indefensible ideas and failed policies that make everything worse. The Left, as someone much smarter than me once said, “does not understand the power of incentives,” which is, of course, the height of irony as everything the Left proposes is intended to signal their own virtue and raise their own social status; in other words, the Left is responding to incentives.

A Warning Not A Condemnation

The problem with Australians is not that so many of them are descended from convicts, but that so many of them are descended from prison officers. Unknown.

I posted this (see below) to my Facebook page yesterday, and a longer but very similar screed went onto my Instagram account. The Facebook post got two likes, one of which was from a fairly high profile Australian climber. You should not read too much into this as I have a grand total of 16 friends on Facebook: the audience is small and I have no interest in garnering “likes” so most of my posts are either stupid, sarcastic or both. To be clear, despite the Zuckerberg back flip on censorship, totalitarianism and toxic femininity (if masculinity can be toxic so can excessive feminism), I am no fan of Facebook and the only reason I got an account was to see the trail updates about our local mountain bike tracks. Unfortunately, Facebook still seems to have a strangle hold on this type of communication for local community groups. That often happens, the first kid on the block manages to garner the most success. Outside of that, like all social media, Facebook is not a healthy place.

Still, I pop into Facebook and put up the occasional post. Ironically, the other thing I keep up with on Facebook is the movement to keep the climbing areas in Mount Arapilies open to climbers. Climbing is, or at least it used to be, counter-culture. Climbers were outside society, lived in their cars (before the Trust Fund kids all got $100 K+ Sprinter vans), and shunned mainstream movements. These days, climbers, like the left itself, have morphed into authoritarian tattle tales who have been co-opted by the Critical Race theorists and now spend most of their time talking about how climbing (and the outdoors in general) is exclusionary to various identified victim groups.

No-one who conducts these ludicrous surveys or dreams up these unworkable strategies – which, by the way, always include the exhortation to “check yourself” because you too are, obviously (it really goes without saying), also a racist, sexist homophobic sinner - ever thinks that perhaps the reason some IV’s (identified victims) are not into climbing is because they are uninterested. I am a 62 year old white female and, for my entire outdoor career I have been – mostly but not entirely – the only female in a group of mixed race males. I never thought this was systemic sexism because it was patently obvious to anyone with two neurons capable of synapsing, that the real reason I was the only woman was because, as a general circumstance, women were not interested in climbing, skiing, mountaineering, or whatever the relevant sport was. Reality, as they say, is a bitch.

Riding around our local trails today I was thinking that anyone who saw my Facebook post and is a nanny state government supporter (most, if not all of the political left) would be quite insulted because, in a round about, sly kind of way, I was calling the folks who love signage, safety regulations and the like, weak and stupid. Oops. Not actually my intent. The post was a warning not a condemnation.

I’ll do an Andy Kirkpatrick here and say, as Andy would after a series of non-PC talking points “I do apologise.” Andy Kirkpatrick, of course, was cancelled by the woke-rati climbers for some perceived slight or use of “hurty words” and, just like that a brilliant mind from the climbing scene was erased; but such is the nature of the new world order where mediocrity is infinitely preferable to meritocracy.

Anyway, I rode my favourite trail today: RU12. It’s old school, narrow, twisty, rocky, a little technical, lots of steep uphill sections even though it is officially a downhill track with a steep, rocky climb out an eroded fire trail at the end. The good thing about the heart pumping ride out is that every other up-track feels easy afterwards. The other good thing is, for some reason, the E-bike riders don’t venture down RU12 much which automatically gets my approval. Anyway, take heed of my warning, or don’t. It’s your choice.

Rescue Scenarios: Real and Imagined.

I’m still out there, in that dratted kayak, doing that kayak thing. Less alone, however, as I’ve had four sessions with friends who came out and practised rescues with me. It was great, and I am indebted to these folk:

• A who has been rescued more times in more different ways than anyone should have to be;

• D, who taught me a new skill (rotating my kayak around the victims kayak instead of the other way around) and a nifty way for smaller people to empty bigger kayaks;

• P and A (again) who happily dunked themselves in the brown but warm water of Tuross Lake multiple times to the amusement of the cafe patrons;

• Doug, with whom I can practice rescues very quickly one after the other to groove the movement in at the end of a paddle day;

• Finally, N who got a group together (A, again, Doug, C and N) and ran me through a series of complicated scenarios. Special thanks to C who allowed me to do a “hand of God”rescue on him.

PC: DB

The best practice, however was yesterday when we actually ended up with a real scenario in real conditions having to solve real problems. The crazy thing is, after months of carrying around a full safety kit on every single paddle day I did, no matter how short and easy, yesterday I pared my kit down. Isn’t that the way of it? You carry a first aid kit for 300 days and on the 301^st day, you decide to leave the kit at home and find yourself with a “situation” as one of my climbing buddies would say.

PC: DB

This is what I left at home, and yes, it sounds crazy now: marine radio (I have literally never used this item), paddle float (also never used in a real situation), spare paddle (used once in a real situation), dry clothes in a dry bag (would not have been used). It also turned out that I did not clip my tow rope onto my tow point properly before leaving home. This has never happened before either!

PC: DB

Here’s what happened. We paddled out to Three Isle Point (locally known as Yellow Rocks). We had a light headwind, as expected, but easy conditions inside North Head and the swell was small with a very short period. At Yellow Rocks, the conditions were so good we paddled through both gauntlets: the very shallow one and also the dog-leg gauntlet. It’s not that common to get through these in such easy conditions. Over to North Head, the wind was increasing and the sea state was building but not too bad. At North Head, we paddled through another gauntlet and also into a gutter with a sheltering reef either side of the opening to the gutter. By the time we came out of there, the wind was 12 to 14 knots from the northeast (as expected) and the sea was building.

PC: DB

We decided to go as far north as Oaky Beach. It’s often hard to land at Oaky Beach as it has a really nasty dumping wave but we were hopeful we could land on the main beach with the conditions we had. It was heading north to Oaky Beach, that I noticed that our companion (let’s call him Yeti to protect the innocent) was slowing down, but, I did not put the puzzle together and realise that Yeti was feeling really unstable in a kayak that he does not normally paddle. Yeti's usual kayak is one of those big slabby stable kayaks that require a nuclear bomb to capsize. The Sasquatch, that Yeti was paddling on this day has notoriously poor primary stability and also a very small amount of free-board. The deck is almost submerged as the kayak is paddled and with any kind of sea state, the cockpit is completely awash. It also turns out, that owing to removal of the skeg, the kayak leaks water into the back hatch!

PC: DB

Nevertheless, we landed without incident at Oaky Beach – it was a very easy landing and launch as the tide made a deep gutter in front of the dumping wave and timing to get in and out was easy. We mopped out Yeti's kayak and set off to return to Batemans Bay. Doug and I had by now realised that we needed to keep a close eye on Yeti so I said to Doug, "You go first and lead, we’ll put Yeti in the middle and I’ll come last."  We were about two-thirds of the way back to North Head when Yeti went over. He made a good effort to roll but, as is often the case when we are a bit on edge, his head came up first so he simply pulled the kayak back over. Despite trying very hard, I had got a short distance ahead of Yeti so I turned the kayak into the wind (around 15 to 17 knots) and paddled back to rescue Yeti. Before turning, I called to Doug and he also paddled back and along side me, in case he was needed. As I was getting Yeti back into his kayak, Doug noticed something black floating on the water and asked if we had lost anything. “Go take a look,” I suggested as Yeti and I were in no danger. The black thing turned out to be my tow line!

PC: DB

With Yeti back in his boat, we resumed the journey, Doug staying right beside Yeti this time. We made it another 500 metres before, close to North Head where the sea state is always more confused, Yeti was over again. Doug and I were both close by, so I suggested Doug rescue Yeti while I put a tow rope on as it was clear that the solution to this problem was to have one paddler support Yeti and the other paddler tow the two rafted paddlers into the calmer waters of North Head bay. Doug has an annoying habit of keeping his tow rope stowed away in his day hatch (behind his cockpit) and it takes quite a time to retrieve so I thought I would tow, while Doug rescued. Subsequently, I retrieved my tow line from Doug’s kayak and said “I’ll put you on tow” while Doug began the process of rescuing Yeti.

PC: DB

I hooked my tow line back onto my tow hook, and put the other end on Doug’s boat (the Sasquatch was inaccessible as it was being emptied of water) and began the somewhat laborious process of turning my kayak into the wind which was now around 17 knots. With short sweeps on the leeward side of my kayak, and forward movement, I got turned into the wind and finally I felt the tug of the tow on my kayak. Meanwhile, Doug had Yeti in his boat but there was still a lot of water in Yeti's cockpit because the Sasquatch has so little deck above waterline. Yeti made an attempt to pump the water out with a hand pump but as much water came in as went out so the effort to empty the kayak was eventually abandoned and the spray deck reinstalled.

PC: DB

On my end, I thought I was making slow but steady progress moving the two kayaks away from North Head reef and I was able to turn slightly downwind which made progress easier. Doug, however, yelled at me to stop towing as more and more water was pouring into Yeti's kayak as it turns out they had not yet put the spray deck back on. It transpires that I was quicker at getting the tow deployed than Doug was getting Yeti rescued. I stopped towing and endeavoured to simply hold position, but then Doug realised that his paddle, which had been floating beside his kayak on its leash had broken free.

PC: DB

This now is the situation: I’m out front with two boats on tow to my kayak, Doug has no paddle, and Yeti is incredibly unstable. I pulled the quick release on my tow and turned back to Doug and Yeti. In a flash, Yeti was back in the water again while Doug was paddling with his hands! Yeti tried several times to roll but was unsuccessful and also tried to scramble on the back deck. The Sasquatch, however, is a worthy adversary and any attempt to regain entry to the cockpit via a back-deck scramble was destined for failure. I kept a eye on Yeti while I quickly retrieved Doug’s spare paddle (in his back hatch!) and Doug went off to retrieve his paddle, while I began the process of rescuing Yeti again.

PC: DB

As I was sliding the Sasquatch alongside my kayak after emptying it and preparatory to getting Yeti back in, Yeti, for some reason, let go of my bow and lunged for the bow of the Sasquatch. In the wind, two kayaks, one of which is empty are no match for a swimmer so we were rapidly carried downwind away from Yeti. I clipped my extra short tow (which I carry in a pocket on my PFD) onto the Sasquatch and reaching over the Sasquatch and my deck at the same time, I contact towed the two boats back to where Yeti was swimming towards us. Disaster averted.

PC: DB

As if that was not enough, I note that Yeti's PFD has come unzipped and he is zipping it up before climbing back in! Apparently, the zip had pulled open during the previous rescue. I can see that Doug has retrieved his paddle, so I call him to come and help. He paddles over and stows away one paddle and pulls in the tow rope which is floating in the water – one end attached to his (Doug’s) bow. Doug quickly sorts out a tow and clips onto the Sasquatch and with Yeti and I facing each other, Doug begins towing us around the reef at North Head. I have clipped my kayak to Yet's Sasquatch with a short line but still have to work to keep the kayaks from spreading apart.

Once around the reef at North Head, the conditions calm immediately and we release the tow and all paddle into the beach. All the gear is stowed back away, my tow rope firmly secured to its tow hook, Doug’s spare paddle carefully stowed, the Sasquatch bailed out again. We plan to paddle around Three Isle Point and assess the situation again. If needed we can paddle west along the north shore of Batemans Bay before crossing back to the south side and, worst case scenario, one of us can drive a car over to Maloneys Beach to pick up Yeti and the Sasquatch.

PC: DB

It is windy in the Bay, a perfect day for a downwinder, but neither Doug nor I are confident getting too far from Yeti so we only catch a few waves here and there. Yeti manages quite well as the Sasquatch easily catches waves, without a skeg however, the stern tends to slide out easily and Yeti weaves back and forth to our home bay. An interesting day out and, as Yeti said later, “too bad we didn’t have a Go Pro as you would have passed your assessment.”

When Loneliness is the Only Option

Back in 2006 – hard to believe it is almost 20 years ago – I completed Avalanche Operations Level One. I had no problem with the prerequisites as I had been ski touring for a couple of decades and had a dozen or more multi-day and multi-week ski traverses under my belt, plus 80 to 100 ski days every year for the previous five years. But, it was an expensive course (about $1200 at the time – now it’s upwards of $6,000!), and I was determined not to fail. Consequently, I read all the course material plus all the extra course readings, I skied incessantly and dug pits everywhere, and I practised finding two buried beacons hundreds of times, often at night to make the task more difficult. I passed the course, which I enjoyed despite barely sleeping for a week (it was a hut based course and there were a few exceptionally loud snorers in the group), and had that profound feeling of relief when something you’ve worked hard at is successfully completed. It was a bit lonely at times, especially on days out skiing by myself or beacon searching on dark winters nights, but, many ski days I had company so it wasn’t a completely solo endeavour.

Yesterday, I was assessed for Paddle Australia’s Sea Guide qualification, and, although I did well on almost all the assessment activities, I flubbed one part which I will have to redo. Not unexpectedly, it was the rescues scenario where I struggled, and, that was the one area I felt unprepared. I trained for this certification almost exclusively solo. You don’t have to be a kayaker to realise that you need more than one person to practice rescues. There are quite a few local paddlers in my area but I could not get anyone interested in spending an afternoon, even on a nice hot day, practising with me, so it was go it alone or don’t go at all. I realised a long time ago that it can be exceptionally difficult to find anyone to journey with you so you may as well get used to being alone. Suck it up, princess, we used to say in the ‘90’s before everyone became a special snowflake.

When I started training, 6 or 8 weeks before my assessment date, I decided I would go out and practise something every second day, and, I pretty much kept to that schedule regardless of weather. I spent a lot of time in the surf, a lot of time rolling my kayak, and much of the rest of the time trying to come up with other ways to prepare that were possible as a solo paddler. The most similar thing to rescues I came up with was using buoys as rescue targets. My rescues might not be great but I could quickly and accurately approach my “victims.” I did my best solo, but without at least one or two other paddlers, my best was not good enough.

PC: DB

It was solitary and I knew at the time I felt alone, but, it’s only in hindsight that I realise just how lonely those two months were. Perhaps it’s because, in another month or so, I’ll go back and get assessed on the one thing I need to redo, and that means another month of solo training which, to be truthful, feels a bit pointless without at least one other paddler. Doug, my ever suffering partner who supports me in everything I do, has agreed to practice with me, but he is busy and can ill spare the time. I’ll do my best, again, and hope my best is good enough, and, I’ll do what I’ve done before suck it up, but I wish there was another option.

The Last Day

The summer crowds have departed and there is only one woman on the beach as I go down for my last day of roll practice. I got a new kayak seat, hoping to alleviate my chronic proximal hamstring tendinopathy (it helps) and, as a corollary, found that suddenly I could easily CtoC roll after trying off and on for a couple of years. Sometimes a small tweak like sitting higher in kayak (I have a short stubby torso) makes a huge difference. The weird thing is, CtoC rolls are so much easier than sweep rolls, by the time you set up you are part way up, then a pull with a flick and in a few seconds you are right side up. My off side still needs work.

PC: DB

On Tuesday, Nick B came out of a year long hibernation for an upwind-downwind run. It was like old times except none of us were in shape for such shenanigans but we did the seven or so kilometres back from North Head in about 40 minutes which isn’t too bad. I neglected to take water and, despite only being out for two hours, I was parched as a bird cage on a summer day by the time we got home and was even thinking about swilling some sea water around in my mouth. It’s amazing how Nick, who has been neck deep in a house renovation for several years, can still pull ahead both upwind and downwind. Every paddle stroke is just about perfect.

PC: DB

Sunday was probably windier than Tuesday but the paddle was a short one out to Tollgate Islands to remember a dear friend. It was a happy/sad time. So many people in so many different communities touched by one gentle but strong willed woman. Loss is sad but friends gathering together to remember is happy.

PC: DB

In the middle of the North American summer climbing season in 2024, Will Gadd wrote about the “normalisation of deviance” in Explore magazine, over three years after I wrote about my own experience with the phenomenon. It’s not deliberate, people are just unaware as our society has become more industrialised, more convenient, less connected to the natural world. Our politicians don’t help, pandering to the most anxious among us in the mistaken apprehension that this builds resilience. Resilience is built on doing difficult things and there are no government policies that prioritise doing hard things. Policy is always about making things easier. Building resilience in the modern world requires an initial step of defiance which is deciding to swim upstream against all modern dictums. Eat meat, lift heavy objects, engage in risky behaviours, be the only person on the trails with an analogue mountain bike, learn to relax into challenges, and on and on.

PC: MT

The Democrats are realising the fruits of anti-resilience now. For years, the far left has pilloried toxic masculinity while promoting micro-aggressions, hurty feelings and toxic empathy. Virtue signalling took the place of actual action and “skin in the game” became a forgotten concept. Now, as Trump rages through the Deep State like a scythe through a cane field, the far left is struggling to motivate its base to fight back, but, there is no fight among a group of people who have founded their identities as perpetual victims who demand safe spaces from ideas and words that might cause discomfit. Petulant over-emotionalism will never win against people who understand that feelings are transient and that no-one can make you a victim without your consent.

Two Things

Why am I listening to this excoriating podcast with a host who sounds as if she just came off a bender and a coach doing his best to answer questions sensibly but not getting any sensible questions to answer? Perhaps it’s because I am out running, and I don’t want to interrupt my flow to change the podcast. There are two parts to this story; the first is that I am following a Garmin training plan, the second that both coaches keep repeating that inane and insufferable “truism” that you have to love every minute of your training and no coach should ever ask you to do things you don’t like.

You might not love everything, PC: DB

If you have a coach, which seems frightfully common these days even though most of us are mediocre, any coach that is always trying to find exercises or training that you’ll do because you love it should be sacked. If you love doing something, chances are, you’ve maxed out on that particular thing and need to bring up your weaknesses rather than reinforcing your strengths. I’m not sure when society decided that people who were training (or in fact any person at all) should never have to do anything they do not like. Clearly, however, no-one succeeds with this philosophy. If you are going to do anything worthwhile, you’ll have to do many things that you don’t like, and the idea that an endurance athlete, who is going to have lots and lots and lots of low points during long races will love everything they do is an endurance athlete unprepared to actually perform. You are what you do and the more you do things you dislike the better you get at not merely tolerating life but winning at life.

Not loving this pack, PC: DB

I got the idea of using a Garmin training program from my brother who has been dabbling with becoming a runner and has been using Garmin training programs to prepare for events. Generally, I programme my own training which is always difficult because I have so many sports I regularly participate in, and, I’m trying to maintain life as a functional human. Somewhat randomly, I selected a half marathon heart rate based training programme for beginners. This training programme is 16 weeks long and is a little strange but not weird or wacky enough for me to abandon it. In fact, I like that this aspect of training is a plug and go. Three days a week I do some kind of run training and all I have to do is follow the instructions. Perfect. Today was a 40 minute run at Zone 3. According to my Garmin statistics, I spent 30 of those 40 minutes in zone 4 or 5 which is clearly nonsense as I was quite comfortable the whole time. Either my heart rate zones are calculated wrong (I have literally no idea what the algorithm is) or my watch is wrong, or both.

Bush, bugs, swamp and big packs, PC: DB

None of this really matters, what matters is showing up consistently and training consistently and doing things you don’t like consistently because at some point in life you will have to get through something difficult that you don’t like and you need to be tough enough to persevere.