13 Mar 2011

Neighbor Cynthia recently annointed Gina with a new nickname:  Bamboo.  “Bamboo, reach up there and hand me that frying pan.”  It’s funny and it’s stuck, for we all know what a spindly tree Gina really is.  She is no competition, however, for the swamp gum trees we hiked through today in Mt. Field National Park, about an hour’s drive northwest of Hobart.  The swamp gums here grow tall.  Real tall.  76 meters (over 200 ft) tall and still growing.  According to the park’s interpretive signs, the only trees in the world that grow taller than a swamp gum are the California redwoods.

We’re camping here at Mt. Field tonight, having now happily jumped on the Pull-In-And-Plug-In bandwagon.  Now we have our own orange umbilical snaking around the van, connecting us to that precious electrical current that is running our full fridge and microwave.  Last night, in an effort to save us $5, Someone shorted us on electricity and despite enjoying a lovely, riverside, UNPOWERED campsite (albeit our shoreline location reminded me of the Duwamish River, generating a sudden urge to don my Tyvek and rubber boots and splash down into the mud to take a sample), it was a bit of a disappointment this morning when we heard the refrigerator sputter and die, Charlie’s coach battery having fizzled out from a long night of effort.  Tonight we will not make that same mistake.  We need the milk to stay cold for our breakfast of Rice Bubbles (a.k.a., Rice Krispies).

Postscript:  Tonight’s dinner guest – a wallaby.  How cool is that?