Hub & Spoke / Bump & Grind Cycling Route Route Name Euroa – Arboretum Loop Mode: Gravel Grinder, mountain bike, hybrid, eBike Start / Finish locations: Euroa Railway Station Railway St., Euroa 3666 • Straight off the train, start at the station • Arriving by car, park in Railway St. to start Map: GPS -36.749156, 145.568173 Difficulty: Easy – intermediate (not for road bikes) Distance and time: 17km plus a couple extra if you include the Arboretum. 1 – 2hrs. Elevation: 163 – 202m Topography: Flat with one small rise. Surfaces: • Good condition bitumen, with a nice wide shoulder on the Euroa – Main Rd return section • Good condition gravel. • Airstrip and Earnshaw Roads are two wheel dirt tracks which may be rutted. They have some dust drifts in summer, muddy in the wet. Description and Features: A ride from the sedate, urban areas of rural Euroa Township into the surrounding plains country. Flat expanses of cropping and grazing lands, with Strathbogie Tablelands as a backdrop. Wooded roadside vegetation. Many fine rural properties. A sad looking local airstrip. Large scale free range chicken farms. Take a break at the excellent locally indigenous Arboretum. There are a few Km extra of intertwining bushland tracks to enjoy. Other amenities include shelter, picnic facilities, public art, wetlands, a bird hide, a small lake and the site supplied nursery is well worth your perusal. Riding conditions: Minimal gradients. Very little traffic. Exposed to the elements. Options: It is about 3.5km (7km return) to the Euroa Arboretum via the Euroa – Main Rd. Anti or clockwise Anticlockwise Cues: From the Euroa Railway Station Right Scott St Left Elliot St Right De Boos St Straight Branjee Rd Right Cowells Lane Left Wood Rd Left Airstrip Rd Straight Earnshaw Rd Left Angle Rd Opposite Euroa Arboretum entry Straight Euroa – Main Rd Left Birkett St Right Handbury St Right Elliot St Right Scott St Left Euroa Railway Station Amenities (across Euroa & Arboretum) Car parking BBQ Fuel Shops Seating Parkland Playground Picnic tables Public toilets Potable water Accommodation Historic features Sports Reserves Swimming Pool Railway station Road name signs Alternative routes Flora and fauna habitat Cautions: Soft shoulders Limbs may fall Embankments Uneven ground No potable water outside town Slippery surfaces Subject to flooding Road surfaces vary Snakes may be active Beware of vehicle traffic Mobile reception may be unreliable Carry food, water, First Aid, be SunSmart Be equipped for self-reliant riding Restrictions: Take rubbish with you Historic relics are protected Native flora and fauna are protected No fires in the open Use formed roads only Strathbogie cycling #strathbogiecycling
Flying into Melbourne On a private jet Bouncing off ideas With the business jet set Closing every deal No matter what it takes Ethical or shonky As long as the world quakes Driven by ambition Minister or CEO Really only two choices About which way to go Pressing the accelerator When I should have touched the brake How fast am I going to go How much more can I take Slamming down the spirits Soaking up the wine Things are a little beery But everything will work out fine Climbing the hardest rock face Dodging the greatest fall Pushing to the limit And giving it my all Burning the midnight oil Up until all hours Burning both ends of candles To see how much time devours Shooting a little heroin For all the joy it brings Snorting a little cocaine It’s coke that makes me zing Then I lost my partner I leaned on her I admit Then I lost my friends Who won’t see me in a fit Wondering why I need her Wondering why I need it Wondering who l am Any why I’m called a shit A few dodgy deals later I’m sure that I’ll be rich But a punch up with a waiter Left me in a legal stitch I crashed the car last Wednesday Into six or so I’m told Realised I couldn’t pay Forgot insurance in the cold Sick with hepatitis Broke from drugs and booze Living the high life baby Sure can make you lose Eating throwing up Hearing voices in my head Where are my friends and family I might be better off dead Claiming every benefit Sponging every favour Grabbing every freebie Before my resolve wavers Sitting on this pavement Holding up my sign I didn’t plan to be here It just came in time
The only reality is in one place, at one time,
as a fleeting perception of what a truth may be.
That is to say, no reality at all.
Reality is a thought of a truth in the here and now,
only ever understood by one mind in one instant,
only internalised by one heart for less than one heartbeat.
Then lost forever, to ever evolving interrogation, explanation and dissertation.
External attempts at understanding another’s reality and truths are just that, attempts.
Interpretations of another’s reality are creative, transient similitudes at best.
Knowing of another’s truths can only be attempted by association.
Association by its very nature denies the accuracy reality and truth demand.
History is a barely valid interpretation of past reality and its truths.
Yesterday is reappraisal of reality, mere perception of memorable truths.
The future has no reality where truth is elusive and aloof.
Tomorrow is simply anticipation based upon expectation come proof.
Proof is a contextual misnomer ignoring the reality question, what is truth?
A response to this week’s d’verse challenge regarding the Hemingway quote, “There is nothing else but now. There is neither yesterday, certainly, nor is there tomorrow.” - For whom the bell tolls (1940). https://dversepoets.com/2021/06/22/dverse-poetics-one-true-sentence/
These first two lines of the quote cited immediately drew me back to a repeated personal exploration of what I call “The Reality / Truth Paradox”. If the word “certainly“ had been “certainty” it would have been a perfect fit.
I think this is a discussion Hemingway would have willingly engaged in with me if we had met. I would start with the question, “Do you apply fundamental realities and truths to your characters at the time of their creation?”
Water over rocks
Cascades into swirling pools
As winter rains refill
Water over rocks
Washes away rocky past
As winter rains refill
softer than the sigh of a dying wind gentler than the onset of twilight quiet as the shadows of nightfall light as a mantle of misting rain I brush your lips with mine then I do it again
Hub & Spoke / Bump & Grind Cycling Route Route Name / Address: Euroa – Geodetic Loop Mode: Gravel grinder, MTB, Hybrid, eBike Start / Finish locations: Euroa Railway Station Railway St., Euroa 3666 Map: GPS -36.749156, 145.568173 Difficulty: Easy – intermediate. Distance: 34km. 2 hours. Elevation: 159 – 184m Topography: Flat Surfaces: Good condition bitumen Good condition gravel Reynolds Rd is a two wheel dirt track that may be rutted. Dust and gravelly drifts in summer, muddy in winter Flooding is common when there has been a bit of rain. Description and Features: A nice and flat, often gravel, loop for taking in the surrounding countryside. This is a broad grazing and cropping plains landscape with the Tablelands as backdrop. Pleasant roadside vegetation with some grand paddock trees. The occasional small stream crossing. You may spot some wildlife like the Goanna above. Riding conditions: Not much traffic. Exposed to the elements. Options: Pranjip Rd is an bitumen alternative to the rough bit of Reynolds and Wood Rd. Anti or clockwise Anticlockwise Cues: Start Euroa Railway Station Right Scott St Left Elliot St Left Handbury St Straight Drysdale Rd Left Creightons Siding Rd Right Nelsons Rd Right Geodetic Rd Right Angle Rd Left Reynolds Rd Right Wood Rd Right Cowells Lane Left Siems Rd Straight (almost) Rowe St Right Elliot St Left Scott St Left Euroa Railway Station Amenities (Euroa): Car parking BBQ Fuel Shops Seating Parkland Playground Picnic tables Public toilets Potable water Accommodation Historic features Sports Reserves Swimming Pool Railway station Road signs Alternative routes Flora and fauna habitat Cautions: Soft shoulders Limbs may fall Embankments Uneven ground No potable water Slippery surfaces Subject to flooding Road surfaces vary Snakes may be active Beware of vehicle traffic Mobile reception may be unreliable Carry food, water, First Aid, be SunSmart Be equipped for self-reliant riding Restrictions: Take rubbish with you Native flora and fauna are protected Riders must: use formed roads only Strathbogie cycling #strathbogiecycling
An easy 7km rural lane return walk from Ankers Rd to the end of Palmers and back.
Wet and muddy ground Winter chill is all around Warm fire must be found Wet and muddy ground Winter chills broken hearts Warm fire must be found Strathbogie poetry #strathbogiepoetry
The most recent walk I have added to VictoriaWalks
strathbogie walks #strathbogiewalks
strathbogie photography #strathbogiephotography
Another pretty Tableland walk with plenty of winter ambience. It was cold and wet with a constant misting rain. There was a low and heavy cloud cover. Everything around us was beautifully sodden. A perfect day for a winter walk on the Tableland. We did a 6km return from Harrys Creek Road. Next time we will come up from the Fern Hill Road end to further close the gap in our ongoing quest to walk all the roads of Strathbogie Tableland.
strathbogie walks #strathbogiewalks strathbogie photography #strathbogiephotography
I cheat, I lie I backtrack, deny I obfuscate and complicate anything to hide the truth Misinformation I cowardly spread forwardly as ordinary as conspiracy to larceny as policy to conspiracy I function in complicity in social media anonymity Where I apply to truth misuse The risk to me individually that I can see is virtually small enough to be risk free to spread hurt mischievously to revel in power disproportionately Vengeful at my oversight my insignificance my empty nights my blighted existence, my trampled rights my lack of insight into doing what’s right I have devolved to taking what’s mine no responsibility, my time to shine. Basking in screen light I refine my hatred of others for having what isn’t mine No obligation to the social contract I make my way with abuse and hack I twist words and views - take that back! Take that back! Attack, attack, attack, attack! Deep, deep, deep down, do I know this is wrong? This never ending destructive ultra-self-interested song this perpetual wallow in despair this unrequited desire to belong begetting this relentless desire to bring everyone else down to my level My oppressed throng. Do I dare the admission? Will I take the risk? Aargh! The shame of it The pain of it The wrenching, gutting bane of it The creep, the dragging chain of it The cowering, snivelling, ever repeating refrain of it I am disdain, the disdain of it. Will I take the risk? The d'verse prompt for this week came from Tricia, a challenge to explore risk. Join us at https://dversepoets.com/2021/06/08/poetics-take-a-risk/ strathbogie poetry #strathbogiepoetry
Autumn sees the trees
Losing greenery with leaves
Winter strips them bare
Autumn sees the trees
Losing greenery with leaves
Winter strips me bare
Strathbogie poetry #strathbogiepoetry
Today I saw the sun come out
From behind a veil of rain
But still the drops
Fell all about
As rain fell just the same
The sunlight formed
Into golden shafts
Vapour lit illumination
The earth shattered the falling drops
I watched with fascination
To live simply is to lead a life uncomplicated by unnecessary things.
Fallen maple leaf
Colour faded to dull brown
Winter is coming
Fallen maple leaf
Together we fade to brown
Winter is coming
Strathbogie poetry #strathbogiepoetry
This was a very cool thing to find in my in box. VicWalks does wonderful work promoting getting out and about on foot. If you don’t already, try it, you’ll love it!
there are many shades of orange there are many shapes of orange there are many types of orange there are many flavours of orange every day is an orange day the routine is largely the same my wife, who is always up before me puts out the half blood pressure tablet and magnesium for the terrible cramps maybe she worries I won't remember and she will suffer once again for my negligence it is the half tablet I cling to that half tablet as a perverse talisman of health ho ho only half I guffaw and say plenty of life in the old dog yet I hope but don't pray I grind to mill groats while the kettle goes on for 80 degrees of green tea to be taken from a thin light porcelain cup well, mug really beautifully decorated delightful indigenous flora always a pleasure to see to raise to my lips ah the little things ..... there is skim milk to get from the fridge and sultanas come from the cupboard under the bench to add to the oated groats oats sultanas and water to add to the microwave 120 seconds then stir 120 seconds once again while oats and tea rearrange molecular speed and structure on my behalf I transfer everything else from kitchen to table I set up for reading news, photography, email, poetry whatever takes my fancy on a given day I look out the windows across garden and creek across craggy old swamp gums and wattles to hillside pasture and hilltop sky to sunshine or rain or fog or frost occasionally to snow and I say to myself, "Ah, there it is". then I walk back to the fridge transfer an orange from the bottom drawer to face cutting board and knife every day is an orange day but not all orange days are the same valencias available in the warmer months can be quite unreliable anything from sweet and juicy to horribly dry and pithy I top and tail slice smoothly into quarters or sixths depending on what I can get my mouth around evaluating the internal quality of the fruit giving rise to the first pleasure or disappointment of the coming day the navels of the cooler months are more consistent at their best oozing sticky zesty tart juice across the cutting board following skilful bladed removal of the sometimes uncannily human like navel bulk usually in promise of a very good breakfast finale I look forward to my orange start to every day Full of all the goodness orange juice alone will always leave behind full of the possibility of each new day some days have their disappointments to be relegated to the compost bin some days have their nuisances with more seeds and pith to deal with than is preferable most start sweet and juicy and stay sweet and juicy all day long strathbogie poetry #strathbogiepoetry
Today’s d’verse poetic prompt came from Kim. She introduced us / me to Imtiaz Dharker’s poem “How to cut a pomegranate”.I loved it! See the link below. The challenge was to think of a fruit, how it looks before and after it has been cut open, and how it tastes. Think about where and how it grows, and what it makes you think of. You may choose to write a poem in the style of Imtiaz Dharker, or you can explore the fruit in another way and in any form you wish. Whichever you choose, your poem should appeal to the senses.
The dawning was a slow one we were fledglings of fear victims of illness, Children of Lir Number 1 was long strong. Her job to protect. Strong for a long while, until proven imperfect. Number 2 was a mess, times hard as hard for that little girl, our fractured shard. Number 3 was me. Death to the fiddle! Hate for love. None in the middle. Number 4 was Baby, always our most precious. Watching and suffering, the indiscriminate malice. Mother was mad as mad could be. Inside we knew, outside, none could see. House to school school to house all running scared each quiet as a mouse. Freezing bath water, heads held down. Gasping for breath. No sound, lest you drown. Smothered in cereal, honey as glue, naked on the floor kicked black and blue. We lost our only friend. Older sister on the verge. Took flight literally. Our life and death dirge. To young to know. To young to do. I first noticed the down while cowering, we few. Necks stealthily extended, to get a better view of punishment to come, forewarned by cue. Heads tucked under wings, to avoid each other’s pain. Our wings were getting stronger unobserved by our bane. Three remaining cygnets together finding voice seeking strength together, a transformative choice. Reddened eyes were normal, the feathers came next. Black, as our experience lengthened our graceful necks. Then came time to speak with red bloodied beaks making plaintive warning sounds ugly ducklings began to sneak. Eventually, we broke out of bounds, braved an outside world, the hurt, the rage, the hopelessness, to unravel and unfurl And when we told our story, of years of abuse and neglect, no one knew a thing out of privacy respect. Together we remain fragile. Together we remain strong. Together we mourn our sister. Grief upon hope upon wrong upon wrong. For Sinead O’Connor. Strathbogie poetry #strathbogiepoetry