20/05/2023 Paddles Not Pedals

We had a bird's eye view of Baroon Pocket Dam from the F's back deck. As we ate our breakfast the lake lay snuggled under a blanket of cloud and mist traced the path of the creek folded into the hills.

By the time we'd chatted our way through our first cup of tea the cloud had burned off and the lake glittered blue and inviting in the winter sun.  "Let's go kayaking!" Said Mrs F. 

So we did. The road curled past the F's and straight down to a picnic reserve with a convenient boat ramp.

 

Having spent one weekend whitewater kayaking on the Derwent River in Tasmania over 30 years ago, my kayaking knowledge was limited to knowing which end of the paddle went into the water (easy, both of them, just not at the same time).  Roger and I started out in single kayaks under the assumption that two of us being inept in the same kayak would be too much marital stress for 0900 on a Saturday morning. The Fs took the double kayak and very patiently waited for us as we splashed and splattered an erratic path across the silk-smooth water.

"We'll go up the creek" said Mrs F.  We left the wide expanse of the dam behind and entered a quiet world of water and forests of bleached tree trunks through which the creek twisted and turned. At one point we looked up to see the F's home perched on the hill above us. Water gurgled under our kayak hulls and birds chattered and burbled in the trees. 

 

At the halfway mark, with much splashing and sinking into knee deep mud, we swapped kayaks: us into the tandem and the Fs into the singles. I found this very congenial and promptly stopped paddling to take photos, while Roger manfully worked the paddles in the rear. 

I promise I'm paddling.

 

Alas, our next tea and cake appointment called, so no sooner had we stepped onto dry land than we had to leave the Fs with the tedious task of packing up the kayaks and take to the road again.  Thankfully not for long, because we were somewhat relaxed after all that sunshine and paddling and we had a serious weekend of family catch-ups planned.

I walked up the hill to go visiting in the morning.  Trust me, it's way steeper than it looks.

Farmhouse.

 

We spent two days in an orgy of tea and cake, trying to fit far too many family into far too few days and finding some bonus Aunts and Uncles to talk to as well.  It was all very exciting and lots of fun and quite exhausting.  We patted lots of dogs, played with small children, admired pigs and sawmills and ducks and goats, appreciated renovations, and ate/drank a lot of tea and cake. 

A piggy hello.

 

We had far too little time to do any serious relaxing, which was sad as we were temporarily in possession of some views which begged for a quiet cup of tea and a commitment to doing nothing and going nowhere.

Tea and scones please.

I could do with more of this.

Glamping home for a night or two.

I'll see you on the other side of all the tea and cake.