Climbing Red Hill'll make you red in the face.
This was my goal. The trig station at the top of Red Hill. I've been living in Red Hill for 4 weeks now, but had until today yet to actually climb it. A bit of a paradoxical situation, perhaps? Unless I were to have been living beneath the surface, like a dwarf. But I look terrible with facial hair, so thank God I've now rectified the situation by having climbed it.
My first task, it seemed, was to find a way to get past all the houses and into the nature park itself. Golly, are Red Hill houses ever big!
Success!
Did I say success? This was my view as I was climbing the surprisingly unkempt and steep incline. Breath-taking, some might say.
Although it was interspersed with such moments as these, as I paused to take a breath, and looked around.
When I finally got to the top, I found out that there's a restaurant at the top of Red Hill, and that there's a road leading up to it that's far less steep. Oh well. I guess you could say I was more inclined to take the path I took.
Still, this wasn't the actual Red Hill... although it might have been, and the hill with the Trig Station on top is a different hill. Regardless, my goal was still a way aways. It's the tiny dot in the centre of this picture.
Luckily, I found sustainance. Just call me the Bush Tucker Man!
A fork in the road! If this was a Grimm Fairy Tale, I'd be accompanied by two brothers, each of us taking a different path. The elder would take the easy, gently sloping pass on the left, at the end of which he'd find a talking goat which would grant him a wish; the middle son would take the slightly sloping path to the right, and along the way would defeat an ogre, and claim as his prize a bag of sausages that, once emptied, would magically refill itself; whilst the youngest son, keen to obey the will of his parents, would diligently follow the straight and narrow hard path up the middle, and would be walking through the woods when he encounted a maiden that was more beautiful than any the son had shone on before, would declare his undying love for her as the first words he ever spoke to her, and then married her. It's just as well it's not a Grimm Fairy Tale then, as I took the middle path, and man, how boring: little more than a docile cattle for a wife. I suppose the relationship could have been livened up with having to deal with Gargantuan Giants, Wicked Witches and step-mothers, but I kind of got lost on a bit of a tangent here...
The view behind from near the top of the middle path.
I like this tree. It's stuck between a rock and a hard place, but it's still going strong!
Almost there!
Oooh, not quite! Have to get past the guard first. This kangaroo was awesome: when I got near, he got up slowly, then rolled first one shoulder back, and then the other, and then rolled his head around as if he was cricking his neck, and then brang his arms together as if he was cracking his knuckles. He might have been preparing to beat me up like a thug, but at least it'd be a thug that had class!
Success! It wasn't quite as nice as Mt. Painter, but hey, you can't win them all.
This tree has a hole in it!
Tree.
Tree.
Tree.
Not quite a tree. I like this flower. So alone in a harsh environment, yet so defiant against the odds! Beautiful.
On my way back, I saw an Indian Minor fleeing for its life. Turning around to nod my acknowledgement of a job well done, I was confronted by the wonderful spectacle of not one but two kookaburras! Nice end to a nice walk!