Just in case you thought I had it completely soft and never actually went out and bush-bashed, here's proof to the contrary. I had to map a series of drainages at one of our sites last week. I headed out at 7AM and went non-stop until 2:30PM, going down one drainage channel for a kilometre or two, then back up another. I had two local labourers cutting the at-times dense bush ahead of me with their machetes. I would sometimes hop onto what I thought was a solid sand bar, only to find myself up to my hips in muck and water....or my footing would give way and I'd be in the water in an instant. In one spot we were traversing the top of a small waterfalls about 10m high. My two helpers cleared the way ahead; however, as they did so, they actually loosened the thin greasy soil covering of the slope. When I stepped across it, it gave way and I was on my arse in the blink of an eye and starting to slide down to the edge of the falls. I flailed my free arm and my other arm holding a rock-pick every which way to grab onto whatever I could. I grabbed onto a small tree, stopped my slide, and looked up and smiled at my helpers...who breathed a sigh of relief, then smiled back at me. Funny enough, but it never really occurred to me that I would fall over the falls...I instinctively knew that I could...and would...grab onto something (If I had more sense, maybe I should have been more worried than I was). Oh well...who ever said I had any sense??
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