See Sydney's secret national park in full bloom

See Sydney's secret national park

Open to the public for only six weekends a year in late winter and spring, Muogamarra Nature Reserve is a floral paradise, and one of the best places in Sydney to see waratahs.

Over spring, Sydneysiders are given a rare treat, being allowed into Muogamarra Nature Reserve. Overflowing with flowers, wildlife and incredible Aboriginal engravings, this park is delight to visit for a picnic and a bit of an explore. It also has some unusual volcanic remnants and extraordinary European history.
Volunteers and national parks staff offer guided walks during the six weekends that it is open, as well as detailed information on the native wildflowers that you will see, including the location of some of the best waratahs in the reserve. NSW waratahs, our state's floral emblem, used to be quite prolific in the sandstone country around Sydney, but so many have been picked, built-over, vandalised and stolen that they are a wonderful treat now when you find them in the wild.

Where is it?

The unsealed track entrance is just south of the legendary Pie in the Sky bakery at Cowan, on the old Pacific Highway between Hornsby and the Hawkesbury River.

When is it open?

Usually weekends in August to the beginning of October, ie, now! To check, call the park office on 9472 9300 or 9472 9301. There is a small charge, and a national parks sticker does NOT get you in for free. 

What's there?

Excellent flat picnic area, shed with interpretive information and often an indigenous guide. Some of the shorter walks are flat, and lead to stunning lookouts over the Hawkesbury River.

Best walk?

There are walks here for every level of walker, from flat, 10-minute strolls, to more rugged ascents of some of the hills. The free guided walks are highly recommended. 

In my recently released book, Top Walks in NSW,  I describe a longer 11km loop walk that links together many of the best features of the reserve. It requires about four hours but is rated moderate. The following text is an extract from that book.

"Pick up from the Visitor Centre the extensive laminated track notes, and a map if they have one available. It’s also worth checking with the volunteers where the best locations to see waratahs are. 

Head out on the Point Loop, passing the first of many of the 900 species of flowering plant in the botanically rich reserve. For starters there are Sydney red gums, grey gums, bloodwoods, scribbly gums, drumsticks, banksias, peas, pink waxflowers and boronias. After 500m or so, the track reaches an airy rock platform, with great views down the valley to the Hawkesbury River (where you will be walking) and down to your right you will see the very different vegetation and terrain of Peat’s Crater.

The next bit of the walk is the hardest to follow. About 30 m back from the rock platform, a scramble down some rocks (to the left, facing away from the lookout) leads to a faint track. The footpad ducks and weaves downhill, sometimes with small cairns to mark the way across rock platforms. Volunteers may have trimmed bushes and put some flagging tape in places to help follow this route, but it basically heads downhill almost due north, directly towards Peats Crater, through a wildflower wonderland, disgorging walkers on the Peats Track fire trail. Turn left (downhill).

Most of this road was built in the first half of the 19^th century, and you’ll see historic dry stone walls and culverts.

Soon you’ll hit Peats Crater, one of an estimated 25 volcanic diatremes in the Sydney basin, but one of the most obvious to spot. With particularly rich, volcanic soil, it was highly suitable to cultivation, and so all the original vegetation has been lost, now replaced with introduced grasses, favoured by kangaroos and wallabies, towering Sally wattles, bracken, and a long line of Osage orange trees, which were planted as a hedge between two portions of farming land. These introduced trees are now considered important for their heritage value.

The track out to Peats Bite heads out from the left of the crater (downhill again), staying on the same side of the creek. It’s here you’ll enter a small but lovely cool section of rainforest, with lilly pillies, cabbage tree palms, coachwoods and water gums.

As the track flattens out, you’ll be serenaded by frogs and whipbirds, and then find the stone ruins of a farmhouse, which stood here 1886–1939. The mangroves are quite scenic, and at low tide you’ll see the defined channel along which boats once transported goods.

Gradually the water views of the Hawkesbury improve, and you’ll reach a point just beyond the mangrove trees with the remains of an old stone jetty and an uninterrupted vista across the water. It’s a great spot to sit and take a break before heading back.

On the way back, continue along the fire trail past the crater for a few more kilometres, keeping an eye out for goannas, snakes and other reptiles.

At a T-junction at the top of a rise, the fire trail hits another fire trail, the Bight Fire Trail or Deerubbin Extension Walk. Turn left, and almost immediately, a small marked track on the left leads up to Lloyd Trig. This delightful little side trip will take you up to 230m above sea level, with splendid views down onto Brooklyn, Long Island Nature Reserve, and across Pittwater to the Barrenjoey Lighthouse. It’s a great spot for lunch.

The final stretch is back down the Lloyd Trig track, then turning right and up the fire trail, which is likely to be quite populated. A long series of sandstone platforms have Aboriginal engravings, and sharpening grooves, most of which are best revealed and explained on the guided walks. However, a large engraving of a whale on the right-hand side of the track (marked off with ropes) is certainly worth admiring.

Not far past this, a small marked track to the right leads up to the flat JD Tipper Loop and back to the Visitor Centre. Turn right when you hit this loop and you’ll quickly find the JD Tipper Lookout, with again some brilliant views over the Hawkesbury, out to Brooklyn Bridge and beyond.

A very short stroll along this track leads back to the Visitor Centre and a picnic area with proper tables and bench seats."

Hope you get to this special spot and enjoy it while you can.

Ken Eastwood

www.kensbigbackyard.com.au

Where can you have a campfire near Sydney?

Where can you have a campfire near Sydney?

I am often asked this question, often by occasional campers who suddenly decide they want a winter weekend away, knowing that many national parks have pretty serious restrictions on campfires. The good news is that there are plenty of places where you can sit and watch the dreamy "bush television" and they are only a hop, skip and jump from Australia's biggest metropolis. 

Here are just a few of my favourites, so get the marshmallows, the port, the guitars and the campfire stories ready.

It's hard to beat a decent campfire

Mill Creek Campground

One of my all-time favourite camping spots near Sydney, Mill Creek has a muddle of wombats who live near the campsite, and a gentle evening walk with a torch is bound to reveal a common wombat or two. You can drive the car right to the spot, and some firewood is usually supplied, although it's always worth bringing a few decent hardwood logs. The campsite is in Dharug National Park not far from Wiseman's Ferry.

The rich forest around the Mill Creek camping area.

Watagans

Located in the hinterland of the Central Coast and Lake Macquarie, this small mountain range is thick with forest. Some of it is national park, but some of the best camping is in Olney State Forest (try Casuarina or The Pines) or the other nearby State Forests. There are walking trails, mountain bike tracks, and there's plenty of timber around for a cracking campfire.

Newnes

I am hoping to become a lot more acquainted with this camping site over the next few months, as it provides such great access to the Wollemi National Park – its dark canyons, walking tracks and historic places such as the Glow Worm Tunnel. It can be crowded in school holidays. Newnes has fire rings, a great location with views of  the Blue Mountains, and you are recommended to bring your own firewood.

Wollondilly River Station

With brilliant, secluded camping sites stretched out along the gorgeous Wollondilly River, and space to bring your pets, do some fishing or just sit and recover from the pace of life, Wollondilly River Station is an absolute gem for a weekend away in the bush. You can purchase firewood, or as always bring your own. The drive in is windy and on dirt (adding to the feeling of being "away from it all"), but still only a couple of hours to the south of Sydney.

Wollondilly River Station: camping along the river

  

General rules

It is always better to bring your own firewood if possible, as continual raiding around campsites denudes the habitat for a host of creatures, including lizards. I usually find that just before council cleanups, a whole lot of suitable timber is available on the nature strips. Use existing fire rings or fire scars wherever possible. Remember that total fire bans mean no naked flames at all and that national parks in particular can change rules about fires at any stage, so it is best to check with the park before you go.

Have you got another great campfire camping spot? Let me know!

@kensbigbackyard

www.kensbigbackyard.com.au

The 5 strangest things I've eaten

The five strangest things I’ve eaten

Harbour seal: not safe from the tables in Svalbard.

Forget such passé things as witchetty grubs, camel, crocodile, snails and chicken feet, which we’ve all eaten haven’t we? Here are five of my strangest culinary experiences.

1. Fermented shark, Iceland

The fermented shark is in the sealed jar in centre. To the left is fish jerky.

This infamous Icelandic delicacy has now even made it onto The Simpsons. It’s odd to think how the dish could have come about. The Greenland sharks caught in these parts are poisonous, chockablock with urea and other nasties. So some bright spark decided that you can bury them in rocks and gravel for a few months until most of the ammonia leaks out, then dig them up again and eat them. Yum!? I was served my fermented shark in a glass jar with the lid firmly screwed on, and as soon as I took it off the smell of ammonia scorched my nostrils. Beside the jar was a shot of an almost lethal clear local spirit, and I asked whether I was meant to dunk the pieces of shark into the alcohol before eating them. “No,” the waitress said. “You’ll need that after eating it.”

Tasting notes: A mix of off cheese, salt and bleach.

Recommended drink: Any of Iceland's excellent beers. Or a container of bleach.

2. Sand goanna, Little Sandy Desert, WA

Mmmmm. Goanna.

While men go off hunting bustards, kangaroos, camels and wallabies, Mardu women take an iron digging stick and almost without fail dig up a feed of sand goannas. About as large as a rabbit, but with less meat, the bony lizards are tossed on the coals of a small fire and turned over a few times.

Tasting notes: Like chicken. Finger-licking good.

Recommended drink: Billy tea

3. Smoked seal, Svalbard

Smoked seal served tastefully on sealskin. It tastes much worse than it looks.

After an Arctic cruise in which we oohed, aahed and clicked our cameras incessantly over incredible Arctic wildlife, including polar bears, whales, seals, reindeer and musk ox, our Svalbard hosts offered us both threatened narwhal and smoked seal. The seal carcasses were hanging in the carpark as we arrived. I refused to eat the narwhal, but thought I would try a small piece of smoked seal. Why? Who knows. Trying to be polite? Curiosity? Either way it was a bad move, and remains the most disgusting thing I’ve ever eaten.

Tasting notes: Repulsive blend of a gamey meat and the fishiest fish, wrapped up with great lashings of guilt. Impossible to remove the taste for hours afterwards.

Recommended drink: Lighter fluid, meths, diesel. Anything to take the taste away.

4. Green ants, Daintree, Qld

In primary school, we dared each other to eat ants, letting them bite our tongues before swallowing their acidic bodies. Theoretically with tropical green ants, you can bite the bulbous green body off the rest of the ant, but it’s easier just to pop the whole tangy thing in. Unfortunately I had some sort of allergic reaction. More power to the ant.

Tasting notes: Strong, refreshing citrus, more lime than lemon or orange.

Recommended drink: Phenergan, liquid form

5. Entrée, Gilberts Restaurant, Manly Pacific, NSW

My wife’s 21^st birthday stands out in memory for many reasons. It was the night we became engaged, but it was also the night I ordered one of the strangest dishes I’ve ever had. It was buffalo, prunes and raisins, served on fettuccine in a chocolate sauce. For entrée. When I saw it on the menu I thought “I have to have that – no one could put those ingredients together in a classy restaurant unless it works.” I have no recollection of what we ordered for mains, but this dish will be with me forever.

Tasting notes: The buffalo was rich and juicy, and the chocolate sauce was silky, not too sweet, and quite divine really.

Recommended drink: Pinot noir

I’m not sure what’s next on the culinary list, but I’m open to all suggestions.

@kensbigbackyard

www.kensbigbackyard.com.au

New Zealand's 'hidden' skifield

New Zealand's 'hidden' skifield

New Zealand's largest downhill skiable area is nowhere near Queenstown. It isn't even on the South Island. It's on the North Island. And most Australians don't seem to know it's there.

Turoa skifield on Mt Ruapehu

Mt Ruapehu on New Zealand's North Island

In the middle of New Zealand's North Island, in a national park called Tongariro, is the awesome spectacle of Mt Ruapehu, an occasionally active volcano that is the highest point in the North Island, reaching nearly 2800m above sea level. Ski areas are found on three sides of the same mountain. Whakapapa (pronounced with an "f" for the "wh") is the largest ski field in all of New Zealand and found on the north side of the mountain. Turoa, which holds a superb skiable area, is on the southern side. A little club area called Tukino is on the eastern side.

According to a ski-hire bloke in the village of National Park, the only reason Queenstown, on the South Island gets nearly all the Aussie skiers is because of marketing. And after I saw what was on offer earlier this season, I've realised he might be right. This is a superb mountain, and all the better for the fact that fewer people know of it.

Getting there

Tongariro National Park is a couple of hours drive from Rotorua (with direct flights now from Sydney). It takes four hours from either Wellington or Auckland, and there are plenty of flights in there.

Where to stay

Although my experience on this trip wasn't wide, I do have a brilliant recommendation: Parkview Apartments in the little, quiet village of National Park. These modern, cosy 2-bedroom apartments have a warming gas fire and huge windows overlooking the snowy peaks. There are only two in the complex, so they are quiet (and can link if you have a larger group), and only about 20 minutes' drive from Whakapapa and less than an hour from Turoa, giving you a great option every morning. It also wasn't hugely expensive, costing about $NZ125 a night for the four of us. 

Parkview Apartments

Other choices: 

Whakapapa Village has a variety of accommodation, but you can't walk to the chairlifts: it's still a drive up the mountain. The range is great though, from the Whakapapa Holiday Village to the absolutely divinely placed, historic Chateau Tongariro. (Hint: even if you're not staying in the Chateau, it's worth splurging on a high tea inside it, looking out through huge windows past the golf course to the distinctive volcano that most of us now know as Mt Doom.) 

Ohakune is much closer to Turoa, but still at the base of the mountain. It is more of a vibrant, skiers' party town than the sleepy National Park village.

Whakapapa

Happy Valley at Whakapapa

With the better reputation as a ski resort, Whakapapa promises a lot, but it didn't live up to its reputation early in the 2013 season. Staff were incompetent, surly and disorganised. Prices weren't up anywhere and it seemed to take ages to get gear sorted, even though the crowds were thin at best. Hopefully that improves during the season. The beginners area of Happy Valley is a great place to learn - wide enough and gentle enough to ski and snowboard safely around all the other learners. 

Glimpses of Mt Doom (Mt Ngaurahoe) from the chairlifts

Higher up the mountain, chairs give views over Mt Ngauruhoe (Mt Doom) and there are runs to suit every level of skier, up to double black diamonds. Teachers, as everywhere, can be a lottery, but generally are friendly, helpful and professional.

Turoa   

Halfway up the Turoa skifield

This was not only a beautiful-looking area in which to ski, but the staff were friendly, efficient and keen to see us make the most of the day. Because Turoa is on the southern slopes of Mt Ruapehu, it is colder and the snow is usually better than Whakapapa. (You can easily compare snow cover here.) The beginners area isn't great, being much smaller than Happy Valley, but for intermediate skiers it seems much, much better. Both Whakapapa and Turoa have 8 lifts, and the two right near the start of the resort quickly distribute skiers up the mountain. 

Turoa chairlift

Overall assessment

I have skied in several different countries, including many of the Australian resorts, and have skied and snowboarded in the resorts around Queenstown, New Zealand. 

I think North Island New Zealand should definitely be on any Aussie skier's list. It is relatively close and accessible, and relatively inexpensive. The skiing is excellent (even early in the season there were testing runs open at Turoa) and varied. And most of all, it is such a stunning environment that even if you are just there to have a few runs and then enjoy the views from the cafes, you will still love it. 

www.kensbigbackyard.com.au

Sydney's hidden nudist colony

Sydney's hidden nudist colony

A revealing look at the Kiata Country Club

On the north-west outskirts of Sydney in the unlikely bushy suburb of Maroota, down a potholed dirt road, a humble, locked fence stands across a road. Signs discourage prying from any passers by who happened to stumble down this quiet road.

This zebra is nude

Inside is a 65-acre adult playground, where nudists, naturists, skinny dippers and exhibitionists can roam freely, wearing as much or as little as they desire. It's called the Kiata Country Club and there they play tennis, swim in the pool or in the creek, sit in one of the two spas, bushwalk, cook, sunbake and take part in a variety of special social events.
That was why I was here: my band, Birdyard Big Band, had been invited to play for the club's monthly social, a princes and princesses ball. As one of the Kiata community told me:

"as nudists, it's a bit of a novelty dressing up, so we really like these opportunities".

Now, those who have bought or read my book Top Walks in NSW know that I'm not averse to a bit of skinny-dipping now and again. I quite like the feeling, actually, of being care-free and kit-free, on a remote beach somewhere. And thankfully I've never really struggled with body-image issues. But thinking of doing karaoke nude in front of a whole bunch of others? Hmmm. Talk about "stage fright". Let alone dancing in a crowd. Or tennis? "Keep your eye on the ball" takes on a whole new meaning. 
It was mid-July, and it was freezing, so us band members uninitiated into the ways of the Aussie nude community, asked the same questions that a lot of nudists get asked in the winter - do they really get around nude all day and night? But as one Kiata member laughed to me: "We're nudists. We're not insane". During the cold days (it was only about 13 degrees during the day), the community may or may not be wearing clothes. In summer, it's evidently a bit different.
When our band leader had set up the gig, he was met at the gate by a woman in a sarong, and a man wearing a hat. Yes, just a hat. Which really suited the song You can leave your hat on (which we did do later in the night, leading our singer to comment that it is the first time for this band that the lyrics have actually been acted out in front of us).
When we arrived, on that cold winter's night, the friendly crowd had a roaring log fire going in the corner, and a caterer had been hard at work setting up a roast dinner. Most of the crowd was very smartly dressed indeed, the one exception perhaps being one fairly attractive woman wearing a very short white tutu and nothing else.
Not surprisingly, the toilets are unisex, which is quite novel, but not unlike some of the Sydney nightclubs I've been to where gender doesn't seem to matter either.
The mix of people at Kiata is actually a slightly younger crowd than I expected. Yes, the bulk of the nudists appear to be older, but there seemed to be quite a few in their 40s, and a handful or so who were younger.
Some people buy into the community at Kiata, keeping their own caravan site and living on site. Others might just pop in for a week, a weekend, or rent one of the spaces for shorter periods. "A lot of grey nomads are nudists," one member told me. "They travel around Australia going from nudist camp to nudist camp." Evidently there are about 30 in all around Australia.
In the late 1960s, there was another nudist colony in the Sydney area, run by an officious German woman who had "a lot of rules", one long-term resident told me.

"No smoking, no drinking, no holding hands..". 

A group got jack of all the rules and set up Kiata in the 1970s, and it has been there ever since.
I have to say that having performed in a variety of bands for more than 25 years, the crowd was one of the most enthusiastic and friendly I have ever performed to. As soon as we started playing, we had dancers filling the small dance space, squished between the fireplace and the band, jiggling and joggling around us. It didn't matter if we played swing, Latin, rock or classics like Nutbush (yes, intentional pun), the floor was full of swinging dancers. Well, some bits of them were swinging more than others.
Throughout the night, more and more clothes came off, but not always what you expected. One bloke had a full dinner shirt and jacket on, but nothing on his lower half at all. Another just had his shirt off. Some remained clothed, others were starkers from early on in the evening. Women, men, all ages, all dancing together, and having a great time.
They were slightly more sexually mischievous than I imagined, and by the end were encouraging the band to strip. We obliged by taking off our suit jackets.
After three encores, and the clock passing midnight, some of the lovely friendly faces on the way to the spa invited us back for New Years. "It's a great night," they said. "A lot more nudity though."
Could be fun.

Photography is banned at Kiata expect by official photographers. BE WARNED: if you click on the Kiata website it does have images that may offend some people. 

 www.kensbigbackyard.com.au

Wonderful Winter Walks

Wonderful winter walks

Winter hiking, North Island New Zealand 2013.

I was recently asked by a Sydney radio station to name 10 great winter bush walks. This is the list I came up with, many of which are featured in my book Top Walks in NSW.

1 1. The one closest to you

No, this is not an excuse for being vague. The fact is that like many reptiles, mammals and amphibians, many Homo sapiens tend to hibernate in winter, reducing exercise and interaction with the Great Outdoors. But it’s one of the best times to be out and about. The cooler air is refreshing in which to exercise and there are usually less people about. Rather than thinking that we need to “go away” somewhere to bushwalk, it’s great to remember that a bushwalk is probably almost on your doorstep (if you live in Sydney). Plus, if you walk in the same area over a year, you’ll see the seasons come and go, and begin tapping into the close connection with “country” ­– the natural world that sustains us – that so many of us have lost. The little patch of bushland near me isn’t spectacular by any means, but over the seasons I see the flowers come and go (currently wattles, spider flowers and peas) and myriad wildlife, including eastern rosellas, turtles, eels, ducks, owls, tawny frogmouths and herons. 

2. Spit to Manly walk

Sydney Harbour is such a delight to walk around at any time of year, and this classic track along part of its shoreline includes Aboriginal carvings, hanging swamps, rainforest pockets and stunning views. It’s a ripper outing on a sunny winter’s day.

3. Blue Gum Forest, via Perry’s Lookdown

Blue Gum Forest

The hallowed Blue Gum Forest, site of one of Australia’s first conservation campaigns, is a joy to behold at any time of year, but the walk in and out is a real heart-thumper, with hundreds of steep stairs. This walk is a great way to get the blood moving and burn a few of those winter calories (although stopping for cappuccinos and hot chips at Blackheath on the way back will put them back on again).

4. Mt Solitary, via Ruined Castle

View from Mt Solitary, on a clear winter's day

Best done as an overnight walk, this exciting adventure takes you up the steep Mt Solitary, the mountain jutting up out of the Jamison Valley in the Blue Mountains, to camp in one of the caves near the summit. There are extraordinary views for much of the walk. It could be done as a long day walk, but after spending the effort getting up there, it’s nice to stay a while and watch the sun set. Water can be scant on the summit, and it can even snow at times, so be prepared.

5. National Pass, Blue Mountains

When people ask me “what walk do you recommend for international tourists,” I nearly always recommend this century-old classic. Plunging cliffs, waterfalls tumbling off the escarpment, rainforest, rare animals and a well maintained track all help to make this 6km round trip well worth it at any time of year. On cold and misty winter mornings you may initially miss some of the sensational views, but usually before you’ve finished the walk, the weather will clear enough to realise the track sometimes teeters over the edge of the towering cliffs.

6. Uloola Falls Circuit

I start the review in my book about this walk with: “Why sit indoors on a rainy Sydney day, when this cracker of a wild walk is awaiting you on the southern outskirts. If the rain is heavy or constant, you’ll be wading across gushing creeks and seeing Uloola Falls at its best… best of all you can even grab a decent coffee, or a full sit-down meal, half way through the walk at the Weir Café at Audley.” That says it all really, apart from the fact that this 15km trek is in Royal National Park, the second-oldest national park in the world.

7. Old Great North Road and Finches Line

As well as the Blue Mountains World Heritage Area on Sydney’s doorstep, we have the fascinating World Heritage-listed convict sites near Wiseman’s Ferry to explore. This 11km circuit takes you on an exploration of the well-maintained sites, and offers glorious views over the Hawkesbury River.

8.     The Castle, Budawang Wilderness Area

The view from The Castle

Increasingly, as I reflect on all the walks I have done throughout NSW, this remains a highlight. It was the toughest walk in the guidebook, and not for the faint-hearted, with scary fixed ropes to scale the ramparts of The Castle near the summit, but it is such a great day out that it will keep making nearly every “best of” list that I compile.

9.  Pigeon House Mountain (Didthul)

Far less of a commitment than The Castle, but in the same area and with similar views, this 6km return walk has a steepish start, and finishes with a series of stairs and ladders to get you up to the summit. On a clear winter’s day, the view is almost unbeatable.

10. Light to Light Walk, Ben Boyd National Park

Pretty coastline on the Light to Light walk

My final choice is about as far down the NSW coast as you can get, in Ben Boyd National Park. It’s one of the most stunning sections of coastline I’ve seen in the state, with myriad colours in the rocks, beaches and water, prolific wildlife, and some great campsites (where you can have a fire) along the way. Plus, there’s a chance to stay in a Lighthouse Keeper’s Cottage at the end. It’s 32km one-way, but relatively flat and easy walking.

Feel free to let me know your favourite winter walks. Get out there and get into it: I’ll see you on the track.

www.kensbigbackyard.com.au

A risky business

A risky businessWhy I support risk-taking

Over the edge: abseiling into Jenolan Caves

On a recent rock-climbing trip in northern Sydney, I fell. 

We’d had a tough morning of climbing, and decided to do “just one more climb”. It was a relatively easy, short climb on good rock, and I assumed I would just run up it, clip into the bolts for protection, and then help haul the other, less-experienced climber to the top.

Whether it was the slippery start, a latent illness I was carrying, or just a bad climb, I slipped and fell uncontrolled, plummeting towards the ground. Thankfully I had clipped into a bolt a few metres below me, and as I fell, my belayer did his part, and the bolt did the rest, arresting my fall a couple of metres off the deck.

Rock-climbing, like many of the activities I enjoy, involves responsible risk-taking: placing yourself in a precarious position, but with the knowledge that you have taken ‘adequate precautions’ (to use a euphemism). 

Ken Eastwood caving, Jenolan Caves

Whether mountain biking down a rocky slope, scuba diving through the shark caves of Fish Rock, canyoning in the Blue Mountains or taking a long overnight hike through rugged terrain, many of the outdoor adventures I undertake have two elements of risk: known risks and unknown risks. A wise and experienced lover of the outdoors becomes used to weighing up these risks; factoring in weather and solutions to all the known risks, and being prepared to encounter the unexpected.

It’s these skills that I find so useful in other parts of life, whether planning to direct a camp with more than 100 unpredictable teenagers, bringing up two kids, a holiday with the family, or the rush and adrenaline of a deadline.

One of the best Australian exponents of responsible risk-taking is highly successful entrepreneur and adventurer Dick Smith, who I worked for briefly in the Australian Geographic offices at Terrey Hills. A recent story in the International Business Times said, “his story has always been about venturing into the exciting world of the unknown… [but] Dick says he will never get into a business unless there's a good chance of success in it. Even in his recreational adventurism, he says he would only dabble if there’s a huge chance of him coming out of it successfully. It is called responsible risk taking.”

Dick, and the Australian Geographic Society, support the “spirit of adventure” which led to young Australian mountaineers such as Christopher Harris becoming the youngest person to climb the potentially lethal Mt Cook in New Zealand, at just age 12. His dad, Richard, told me, “I’ve certainly never worried about what other parents think – if you worried about that you wouldn’t do anything.” With a focus on getting his kids into scouts, Outward Bound, caving and rafting, Richard has encouraged and motivated them to push boundaries into areas of high risk. 

“When it comes to kids and wrapping them in cotton wool, I have a theory that we have more teenage suicides than ever before, and it’s because they aren’t having any near-death experiences, so they don’t learn to fear it,” he said.

Whether or not we admit it, we all face huge, insidious risks every day. Statistically, the most dangerous part of rock-climbing isn’t the abseiling or the actual climbing. It’s the drive to the rock face.

Parents have become obsessed with stranger danger, but statistically, strangers in Australia offer miniscule danger to kids. If they are abused, it is almost certainly going to be by someone they know and trust.

We fear our kids playing in the bush by themselves, but I recently heard of a girl who tripped on a long dress while playing “dress-ups inside” and broke her arm.

If we don’t encourage kids to get out and have their own adventures, what about the far more insidious risks of obesity, laziness, lack of imagination, depression, inability to make their own wise decisions or going through life thinking mediocrity is the goal?

Away from the marked trails, exploring Ku-ring-gai National Park

Dr Helen Little, lecturer at the Institute of Early Childhood at Macquarie University, began research into risk-taking in children in 2005 with a PhD titled Children’s physical risk-taking in outdoor play: the influence of individual, social and environmental factors. “Although the term 'risk-taking' often has negative connotations, the reality is that the willingness to engage in some risky activities provides opportunities to learn new skills, try new behaviours and ultimately reach our potential. Challenge and risk, in particular during outdoor play, allows children to test the limits of their physical, intellectual and social development,” she wrote.

She’d noticed an increasing trend of parents giving a blanket ‘no’ to their children who want to take risks, such as climbing trees or walking around the outside of the playground equipment, “without struggling to think ‘why am I saying no? What is the issue and is it really an issue? There is no risk-benefit assessment. Sure, as a parent you do [need to] look at the risks and the hazards in the environment, but you weigh that up against the benefits – motor development, spatial awareness, confidence – any aspect of their social development.

“If a child doesn’t do these things, step out of their comfort zone, they are going to stagnate, they aren’t going to develop.”

Responsible parenting means taking risks

It’s the same with us, dear grown-ups. We all too easily retreat to the comfort of our own mediocrity, unwilling to step through any doorway that might, possibly, make us uncomfortable. And as a result, I fear, we will continually set ourselves and those around us an agenda of stagnation.

Go against the trend. Be bold. Take a risk this week. Do something you’ve never done before. Weigh up the risks, and have a go. And let me know how it goes.

www.kensbigbackyard.com.au