I’m going paddling this weekend. The weather’s looking good, the lake’s likely to be calm and I hopefully won’t be tipped into the icy, icy waters.
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It’s part of my training for this year’s Massive Murray Paddle – an epic from Yarrawonga to Swan Hill in late November.
I’ll be part of an eight-person relay team in a canoe, and the rank novice among a group who have paddled the Murray (other rivers, in the sea) for many years.
As the website puts it – 404km / 5 days / 1 river / 50 years.
It should be fun. And I’ll have to put a few kilometres under my paddle between now and then in training – an added bonus.
I love a good outdoor adventure and the camaraderie that goes with it.
I’ve done a fair few long-distance hikes, the kilometres melting away while we chatted about our lives, the weather, singing Abba songs (yes, that’s right … Super Trouper at 3000m).
There’s also a beauty of sorts in the rushed breakfasts as you’re packing up the tent or heading out of the hut, the lunch stops spent basking in the sun after a morning of effort, the lazy dinners recounting the near misses and hits of the day and the skies full of stars.
The goal of a new quest keeps me moving. It’s a top reason to get off the couch. Just what the doctor (and Government) ordered – 30 minutes of heart-raising activity a day to ward off a host of ailments, both physical and mental.
Give me hundreds of kilometres of hiking any day. It gives you the chance to get into a simple rhythm – eat, walk, sleep. Repeat. Often for weeks. It certainly makes you fit if you weren’t before you started.
The silence of the long distance athelete can also be mentally cathartic. Paddling and walking are meditative. The quiet swish of the paddle through the water, the plonk of ducks as they dive, the grace of waterbirds perched on stark trees looking for prey in the water below. Wonderous. You can put up your paddle and just glide, taking in the beauty of nature as you drift. Not an iPhone or social media feed in sight.
If you’re on foot, it’s the crunch of gravel, the dance of rock hopping, the gentle fall of rain, or the concentration needed when fording a slippery river (particularly if you don’t want to fall in).
The world melts away. And breathe out.
Juanita Greville is a Fairfax journalist
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