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We’re going to have to drag the kayaks another two kilometres,” Pascoe says, looking at the map. Ahead of us, snow hides from the sun on the southern aspects of the endless golden ridges, and as it melts, the river comes to life. It’s hard to say which of these gullies is the true source of the river, and how many need to come together to float a kayak. These are the head-waters of New Zealand’s fourth-longest river, the Taiari. Looking over Max’s shoulder, I think how unexpected it is to find a whitewater kayaker here, and how this will make a perfect photo to highlight the absurdity of this source-to-sea expedition. After checking the photo in the viewfinder, I start to feel the excitement and the draw to be…
[Letter of the Issue] SUNSHINE-STATE BLUES Dear Wild, A new state government for Queensland, but will it be good news for the environment? Unfortunately, LNP Premier David Crisafulli’s first step doesn’t look promising. Environment and Tourism Ministeries are now in the same department. That usually means one will benefit while the other suffers, and it’s unlikely to be tourism suffering! As a clue to the government’s focus, the new Minister for Environment, Tourism, Science and Innovation, Andrew Powell, has blown the cobwebs off the previously shelved plan for a cableway through Spring brook NP, a small Gold Coast Hinterland park containing ancient 3000-year-old Antarctic beech trees within its Gondwanan rainforests. The minister gushed, “We’ve got beaches, and yes, we’ve got theme parks here on the Gold Coast, but what people…
With all the crap going on in the world at the moment, I thought I wanted to give myself a challenge for this issue’s letter: Write something funny. Something so light-hearted it would float off the page. Something that would serve as an antidote to the onslaught of depressing developments that seem to be hitting us in waves, kind of like when you’re out in the surf and a big set comes in, so that just as you come up for breath after being pummelled by one wave, another huge wave pounds in, forcing you to dive again, come up for a split-second of air, then dive again, and so on. I don’t know whether I need to go into details of all the metaphorical ‘waves’ crashing in at the…
When the sun rises over NSW’s Budawangs, highlighting the textures of the sheer sandstone cliffs and accentuating the dominance of Pidgeon House against an empty backdrop, you know you’re looking at a one-in-a-million sight. This is what makes the 1,000m of elevation gain to summit the Castle all worth it. by SEB ASHTON Les Ching on Agamemnon (11) at Mt Arapiles. The climb, with its sustained chasm, is an Arapiles classic; it is also one of more than 1,000 routes destined to be banned under proposed closures for what some would argue is Australia’s most significant climbing area. You can read an opinion piece on the closures by former Wild Editor Ross Taylor on p46. by MARCUS READ In November 2024, the inaugural GPT 100 Miler race took place on…
I was suddenly awake. I lay still a moment, trying to work out where I was, the nondescript bedroom giving nothing away. It felt early, but was way brighter than it should’ve been. Then the exuberant cackle of kookaburras began, overpowering the cicada drone, the chortling magpies and other parts of the chaotic backyard symphony. Mystery solved. I’d arrived back to Australia the previous day, headed straight down the coast to Victoria’s Bellarine Peninsula. I’d been away two years, and I’d forgotten the flavour of summer mornings: loud, bright, inescapable. There’s no slow dawning or modest morning chorus: It’s just suddenly day, the world noisy and alive and full of building heat. There’s nothing to do but get up and join in. I’d forgotten this lesson, so I shut my…
I fully see the point of keeping a diary. All too often we are reminded that our memories are not infallible, and that past experiences can be hard or impossible to recall completely. Lamentably, I’ve been too ill-disciplined and lazy to be a good diarist, and have only put pencil to notepad on major expeditions. I have, however, been a diligent photographic documenter. It’s not that I particularly dislike writing, but it’s harder than pulling out your camera and pushing a button, especially in a cold and ill-lit tent. And thinking objectively, I must admit that my most easily accessed memories are heavily influenced by photography, simply because it’s easier to thumb through an old album or scroll through your digital photo library; over time, those images tend to dominate…
