Saturday, 26 April 2014

Claustral Canyon 2014

Claustral Canyon 2014

One of the most spectacular accessible canyons in the Blue Mountains, Claustral is a bold, achievable adventure for the well prepared. 

A rain shower comes over Claustral Canyon country, Blue Mountains.

Warning: Canyoning is a potentially dangerous activity, and anyone undertaking Claustral Canyon needs to be confident enough to abseil in the dark, down a waterfall. Weather must be carefully assessed before entering the canyon as rising water levels have been fatal. 

I first did this absolutely gorgeous canyon a decade ago, and this trip, on 13 April 2014, was my third into its delights. A few years ago, the access route changed dramatically, and I have been unsure about doing it, as I have heard of people who have become quite seriously lost. However, the route is really quite easy to follow, and highly recommended for experienced canyoners.
It has been listed as a "grade 4" canyon (on a scale of 1-6) and is not to be taken lightly. At a minimum, participants should have completed a couple of easier canyons involving abseiling, such as Grand Canyon and Empress Canyon. On this trip, our party of three included two older, experienced canyoners, and my 13-year-old daughter, who had done both of those canyons, and did really well.
I don't intend on going over the whole route here, but Ozultimate has an excellent description. Canyoners should also have their own topographical maps and/or GPS and know how to use them. Wetsuits, dry bags, warm clothing, a medical kit and spare ropes and rescue gear are highly recommended.
Andy Scott, Ms 13 and one of the rock platforms that offers a vista on the way out.

Finding the start

A few people have got lost right at the very start, but taking a little bit of care you should have no troubles. After parking on the left hand side of Bells Line of Road, just as the road swings to the right after Mount Bell, you walk back to the corner and look for the little track in (hint: it's closer to the start of the corner). A National Parks log book is there, and you are advised to record your start time, destination, and number in the party.
From there we temporarily lost the track, but it is well defined enough after 4 years of use that you should be able to identify quickly if you are on it or have lost it. There is a beautiful rock platform near the start, tucked into the side of the mountain, and you want to be on top of that. The track then heads off the other side of the rock platform, on the high side.
The rock platform just 100m from the road. The track leads off diagonally left from here.

The "new" route

The biggest problem with the change in access is that you now have to scale the full height of the canyon twice on the way out. i.e, you will enter the canyon half way along it, do the lower half, then climb all the way out after a few hours. You'll then start the canyon from the top (like we used to), and follow it all the way along to the halfway point, then have to climb all the way out again. Do not underestimate the time or energy it will take to do this. The three of us took nine hours travelling car to car, taking only minimal breaks. We certainly weren't rushing, but were on the move fairly constantly. Many groups have taken longer.


The canyon
A gorgeous slot canyon, Claustral has plenty of tricky obstacles, as well as the usual logjams, slippery rocks and ankle-twisting holes to fall into. Before the first of the three main abseils (where the canyon disappears into the stunning Black Hole of Calcutta), there is a tricky climb down on the right hand side  (but quite achievable if you take it slow), or it looks like some people stay high on the left and add an extra abseil to avoid the climb down.
All the abseils in the Black Hole are well set up now (with stainless steel rings and chains on some abseil points), but there is still plenty of scope for things to go wrong, so take care. The rock is slippery and the water can be deep and cold.
We discovered a great way to move efficiently through the three abseils - using a 60m rope, with the first person down threading one end of the rope through the next abseil so it is almost ready to go once the rope is pulled down. This isn't  so necessary with a small group of three, but could be a great time saver with a larger group.
The lower section of the canyon involves some longer swims, a fairly long walking and wading section, and some more tricky climb downs. The safest route is not always obvious, and it's worth looking around if unsure.
On the very last awkward climb down, using a fixed rope with knots, my foot temporarily became stuck in a cleft, while water poured on me from above. It was a small inconvenience as I freed it, but I found out later that is where one experienced canyoner died in Claustral, as he became wedged and drowned. Just another warning to take care I guess.

The route out

For some reason, some people have missed the escape route, but once you spot the sloping waterfall on the left, and do the 20m swim, the track should be quite obvious. Read the advice again before you start the ascent, as there are a few misleading tracks.
Some of the little ledges on the ascent are tricky to get up, and you may need to help each other. Also remember to watch the least experienced canyoners, and make sure they've had something to eat and drink, as a stumble due to fatigue here could be dangerous.
There are some wonderful rock platforms with views near the top of the ascent - a great spot for lunch if you haven't already woofed it all down.
Although it seems wrong at the fork, ignore the obvious track to the left, and keep going right and down, which will lead you to the old track that goes down to the start of the canyon. The temptation is not to put on wetsuits again, as you can walk along here for a long way before getting wet again. However, there are two swims near the end and some tricky sections that would be easier if you just had your wetsuit on from the start. A couple of gullies coming in on the right could look like the way you came in (particularly if it is getting dark), so try to really cement the spot where you came in in your mind.
When you leave the canyon for the second time, it'll take about an hour to walk back to the car at a steady pace.
An extraordinary day out in one of the most beautiful canyons in the mountains.

www.kensbigbackyard.com.au 

Friday, 18 April 2014

Why Easter brings Sun worshippers and Son worshippers together

Why Easter brings Sun worshipers and Son worshipers together


This is the third part in my Easter 'thecology' series: reflections on ecology and theology.

Pambula, sunset

Easter as a time of "new life" didn't make a lot of sense to me until I lived in America. In the 1990s my wife and I lived just south of Boston, Mass, a place that – unlike Sydney – has four distinct seasons. Come winter, the world went monochrome – all the green of the leaves and grass was replaced by bare black and grey sticks, and white snow and ice. It was stark, but still beautiful in its own way.
Then one morning, almost bang on Easter, we woke up and the trees were green. There was new life everywhere. Seemingly overnight, rabbits and other creatures were running around, the birds returned and the brightly coloured vegetation cropped up all over the place.
It's no real surprise then that in the Northern Hemisphere this time of year has been revered for thousands of years as a special spiritual time – a time when the Earth itself seems to be renewed, and touched by the divine. Ancient peoples had a festival to celebrate this time of fruitfulness and life – they called it Ishtar. Heavenly beings were worshiped, including the Sun and the Moon, as part of the celebration of new life that occurs around the equinox.
As the death of Jesus occurred at this time of year, early Northern Hemisphere Christians found it quite easy to  steal this festival and its ideas, turning it into the celebration of the risen Son of God that we know in much of the world today.
Although this is simplified, I love how this works in English:

Ishtar was a festival celebrating the Sun bringing new life
Easter is a festival celebrating the Son bringing new life

Of course there is also a Jewish festival at this time that Jesus of Nazareth celebrated with his mates on his last night on Earth. It is, in a way, a celebration of life saved through sacrifice. Called the Passover, it celebrates the final night of the Jewish nation being kept as Egypt's slaves. To preserve his chosen people, God warned them to sacrifice a lamb and to sprinkle its blood over the door frames of their houses. When a "spirit of death" ripped through the night, it would pass by any house that had the blood on the doorframe. In this way, the lamb's death "saved" the people inside.
Again, it became very easy for early Jewish Christians, such as Paul, to relate this festival and its meaning directly to Jesus. Paul declares that it is Jesus's blood that saves those who believe in him.

Passover was a festival celebrating the sacrifice of a lamb to save people
Easter is a festival celebrating the sacrifice of Jesus (often called the "lamb of God") to save people

So how does this relate to ecology?


I think it is harder in many ways to grasp the fullness of the Easter message living in the Southern Hemisphere. Often our theology about the cross, and the meaning of a Saviour who could not be tied down by death itself, is simplified as a Homo sapiens "ticket to heaven". We miss the whole of creation renewal that this time is about. When Jesus said in John 10:10 "I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full," I believe he wasn't just talking about something that happens when humans die, but a way of living, of celebrating, of dancing through life where we cherish each and every moment, each and every drop of fresh water, each and every flower, leaf, wave, Leadbeater's possum and fungi. That as we become aware of the power of life itself, we too become nurturers and lovers of all of creation. That includes the unlovely – our "enemies" as Jesus called them – as well as the downtrodden, the poor, the mentally unstable in our own species, and in others.
I believe that as we become part of the "new life" available through the risen Christ, that our priorities change, and that instead of ignoring our part in the destruction of this gorgeous planet, that we seek to become healers of it too. As we try to give up the greed and the selfishness within us, we seek to heal the brokenness of our own relationships with other people, and with the Earth that sustains us. So many indigenous communities across the world seem to have grasped this better.
I do not believe that something as powerful as a God who would become a human, and allow itself to be killed by its own creation, can be limited to a simple "so now we can go to heaven" line, although that may well be a glorious bonus. The ancient texts make it clear that creation itself responded violently as the Son of God was killed – the Earth shook, the Sun disappeared (see Matthew's account, in which these cosmic events led a guard standing by to declare "truly this was the Son of God"). I think someone who allows this immense power of the risen Jesus to work inside them will be one who exudes their love for all of creation – people, animals, plants, natural forces – as well as the Creator behind it all.

Happy Easter to all. May you find both disturbance and peace within the narrative of the death and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth, and may you seek to be changed from within by the incredible power of "new life".

www.kensbigbackyard.com.au

Next blog: I promise to go back to some outdoor stuff again!

Monday, 14 April 2014

Environmentalists are ratbags

Environmentalists are ratbags

This is the second of  a Easter trinity of thought-blogs on "thecology" – my attempt to blend ecology with theology.


Over history, the church as a whole has become brilliant at condemning those outside the "norms" of traditional doctrinal thought. 
Or in fact pretty much any new idea or movement. 
Working somewhat backwards through time, the church condemned the digital revolution, the sexual revolution, rock music (including Elvis), African music, post-modernism, modernism, Darwinism, the Enlightenment, the abolishment of slavery, coffee houses and perhaps most famously, astronomy. 
Let us not forget that it was that "great" thinker Martin Luther (who brought about the protestant movement away from the Roman Catholic church), who was most critical of Copernicus when the astronomer declared that in fact the Earth revolved around the sun, not visa versa. Describing Copernicus as "a fool who went against Holy Writ", Luther wrote in Tischreden"There is talk of a new astrologer who wants to prove that the earth moves and goes around instead of the sky, the sun, the moon, just as if somebody were moving in a carriage or ship might hold that he was sitting still and at rest while the earth and the trees walked and moved. But that is how things are nowadays: when a man wishes to be clever he must needs invent something special, and the way he does it must needs be the best! The fool wants to turn the whole art of astronomy upside-down. However, as Holy Scripture tells us, so did Joshua bid the sun to stand still and not the earth."
The church, of course, like any conservative body, will tend to hang onto the old, at the expense of the new. It wasn't just Marx who recognised that anything new threatens the old, and therefore must be extinguished if there is not to be revolution. 
Funnily enough, when I reflect on Jesus of Nazareth and the way he encountered the conservative Jewish power structure, he was also seen as the radical element with crazy ideas who had to be crushed. The early church pretty much picked up the baton where he left off, and as a radical element within society, set about trying to change it for the better. The church I believe Jesus left behind, was one that was a counter-cultural freedom force to the archaic and oppressing power structures of society, not a way of adding to the oppression, and the restricting of ideas.
How does all this tie in with modern environmentalists being ratbags?
The modern church is a very eclectic sisterhood, but on the whole it is undeniably a very conservative element in society. When environmentalists, who usually side with the politically left, push for radical change in the way the world does things (such as, shock horror, turning away from a dependence on fossil fuels, stopping the cutting down of forests for palm oil, or encouraging some farmers to destock so that precious landscapes can recover), the church as a whole will  tut-tut from the sidelines. Those who chain themselves to trees, or bulldozers, or get upset when churches continue to use polystyrene cups for their after-service coffees, are dismissed as ratbags, and not really interested in looking after their fellow humans. "After all," the argument in some heads seems to go, "God put us in charge of this world to 'rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals' [Genesis 1:26], not for them to rule over us!" Like most on the conservative side of politics, "jobs" and "the economy" become more important than the vulnerable pink-tailed worm lizard or the pollution and destruction that we are causing today. How many churches have bike racks outside or encourage the use of public transport? How many churches when they are updating or rebuilding facilities think progressively about the environmental impacts of their building? 
No, unfortunately, environmentalists are generally considered "ratbags" with a different and hence conflicting agenda to the mainstream church. They may be tolerated, or even treated with well-meaning good humour and grace, but are rarely listened to or considered  modern-day prophets.
Yet, any decent glance at the heart of scripture, reveals a God who desires for us to care for all of his creation. "I brought you to a garden land where you could eat lush fruit. But you barged in and polluted my land, trashed and defiled my dear land," Jeremiah thunders in 2:7-8 (The Message).
It's interesting that Darren Aronofsky's modern take on Noah includes such fundamental ecological messages at its heart. Perhaps, if more of us understood the radical nature of Jesus of Nazareth and his desire for us to be society's change-makers, then such an environmental message wouldn't have been such a shock to the church.
In the meantime I, for one, am more than content to be one of the church's known ratbags. 
    

Sunday, 6 April 2014

Thecology: can ecology and theology grow in the same backyard?

Thecology: can ecology and theology grow in the same backyard?

Lava fields in the ever-changing geology of Iceland.

This is part 1 of a three-part series leading up to Easter, to explore some of the distorted theology that is espoused by some Christians about the environment. It's my meagre effort to restore some of the balance and hopefully to generate some discussion.   


Firstly, apologies to regular readers of my blogs who aren't into theology. It is a bit of a deviation for me, and my only qualification is that I love both this incredible world, and the divine, and have wondered for years why so many lovers of either one of those seem to fail to love the other. To me, as it seems to be to so many of the indigenous peoples across the planet, the two are closely linked.

Like so much mythology, let's start at the beginning. Over the following blogs, I'll develop some of these ideas a bit further.

The ancient Jewish scripture, which we know in contemporary bibles as "Genesis", or "The Beginning", starts off with the wonderful, empowering words: "In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth." Why is that empowering? I guess because it starts off with a couple of encouraging assumptions: that this universe is not just a random coincidence, that the divine being is outside of time itself (ie, it wasn't "in the beginning God somehow came into being by a random assimilation of matter") so therefore is bigger than certainly most of our puny imaginations, and that this divine being is also creative.

So far so "good". Because we're told that the creation itself is "good". Not something "bad" that needs to be tamed or put in its place by humans, but it is good.

Science has proved over and over, and in many, many different ways, that this precious little space ball of ours has a long, long history of chaos and massive change. Mountains have been heaved up and cast into the sea, volcanoes have exploded their fiery innards, ice ages have come and gone – in fact climate change has been almost the only constant as continents have smashed into each other and been ripped apart again. We continue to see these immense natural forces at work in places such as Iceland, where earthquakes and volcanoes are an almost daily occurrence.

Some time very late in this chaotic life of our planet, humans became part of the scene. And this is where some really twisted theology often takes place. In Genesis, we hear a creation fable about the first humans doing what God didn't want them to do (they ate the forbidden fruit). This is often referred to as "original sin" – the moment when evil was introduced into the world (let's forget for a moment that the evil, suggestive snake was already there). And according to most modern Christian theology , all problems in the world – including "environmental" – can be traced back to this time.

This gives Christians such a ridiculously easy "out" when people question why there is so much pain and suffering in the world. "Oh, God didn't intend for that - it was brought here by humankind's sin." Admittedly, this is plausible when much of the pain and suffering in the world can be attributed to humankind's greed, gluttony and general pigheadedness.

However, what really gets my not-so-holy goat is that natural catastrophic forces such as earthquakes, volcanoes, tsunamis etc are also ascribed to be a result of this "original sin". That if neither Adam or Eve had favoured apple juice that day, that earthquakes, volcanoes, floods etc wouldn't exist.

What rot! Our planet has been subject to these vast forces since time began: storms, floods, droughts, creation of species, extinction of species. Vast canyons have been gouged out and filled in, seas and come and gone, lava has spewed forth and created countless mountains.

What if this "good" world that God created was meant to be full of this power? That it isn't a "mistake" or a result of "sin" but that Homo sapiens are merely one species on the spinning globe, and it will continue to explode and grind and rise and fall despite us being here.

I honestly believe that one of the biggest problems in reconciling ecology with theology is that we continue to view the divine solely from a human perspective. Heck, I've heard it preached many, many times that humans are the "pinnacle" of God's creation, and that all the realms and wonders of the universe have been created for us to enjoy or to point us to God. It's this sort of thinking that ultimately leads so many Christians to deny that evolution even exists. It is too terrifying to think that we, Homo sapiens – God's chosen ones – might not be the end of the line. That we might be superseded. Or worse, that we might just be wiped off the planet as so many other species before us.

What if the Creator being, in their incredible creativity, grace and wisdom beyond any of our understanding, has created a "good" world in which massive tectonic and geomorphic change will continue to occur as long as the planet has a sun to go around? And that we humans are first-hand spectators of this incredible power, as we ride our ball of dust around and around?

How would this thinking of theology change our thinking on ecology?

Maybe it would stop some people immediately blaming God when there is drought or floods or other things that affect humans catastrophically, and pleading through prayer to "make it rain" or "make it stop.


Maybe we'd have to take hold of again what it means to be compassionate, and to look after our fellow humans on the ride, to comfort the grieving, to feed the poor. To build our cities wisely and without greedily putting developments on floodplains. Maybe we wouldn't be as terrified of modern science, and all it can reveal - whether it's the  number of species now shown to exhibit homosexual behaviour, or the latest news on human-induced climate change.

Maybe we could begin to recognise that we humans are now virtually a "virus" on the planet, consuming and destroying everything else in order that we may live. And that we need to stop doing that.

And maybe, just maybe, those few of us who are firm believers in the divine, but who have a heart for the environment, won't be branded just as godless extremists by other believers, or as dangerously deluded by non-believers, but as those who are trying to reconcile all we know of the divine, with all we know of our modern world.

As we approach Easter, once celebrated as a pagan festival Ishtar, I do hope and pray that wherever you sit on the spectrum of belief, you will take a few moments to ponder this stunning, chaotic, exciting world, and the ever expanding realms of the universe beyond us, and consider how you fit in this vast picture.

Next time: Environmentalists are ratbags

www.kensbigbackyard.com.au