Orienteering 2024 Feb, Mar

Several orienteering friends wanted to see the astro shots I took in the middle of the night while everyone else was sleeping, so I decided to do another post depicting “the other side of orienteering”, only this time, as well as including some of the scenery around our event, I will also include some action shots taken mostly last month, just in case you are tuning in for a different reason and would like to know what Orienteering looks like. I couldn’t take shots of competing this weekend, as our start times were all in a smaller cluster, so I was busy competing myself. I had more time at the event (Hobart O-Fest) in February.

Rising core of the Milky Way with a slight aurora 12.56 a.m.
Milky Way + slight aurora, different angle

I would have loved to have taken more scenery shots, but the weather didn’t cooperate. While I was shooting the astro, the clouds rolled in, and stayed for the rest of the weekend. Considering the fact that it was after 1 a.m. when I stopped, and that I was competing later that day, it was possibly not such a bad thing.

Three highly accomplished orienteers hit the drinks control together: Milla Key, Natasha Key (VIC) and Eszter Kocsik (NSW).
NSW Competitor
South Australia

The remaining photos capture some of the action of Orienteering. The first race this long weekend was a sprint around Bicheno, sometimes amongst the rocks of the headland, interweaving that complexity with dashing around the buildings of the local primary school. It was exciting and intense, with people rushing urgently in all directions, concentrating on their maps. Amazingly, nobody accidentally crashed into anyone else. There were eight courses on offer, and hence the large number of directions being taken at the same time.  It looked very busy; and it happens to be very stimulating to compete: you are in a tunnel of concentration the whole time, solving control finding with route choice problems whilst reading your map running as fast as you can.

Liana Stubbs TAS
ACT

The next day we went bush at Coles Bay, in a “Medium” length course, that most people found to be very long, as the hills were steep, the bush thick, obstacles plenty and the weather hot. Times were not slick, but the challenge was worth it. This day determined the official State Middle Distance Champions in the various age divisions.

Tassie doing battle with SA
NSW
Euan Best TAS, reigning Oceania M16 Champion, competing here in M20 elite.

The final day had us move further south, to open rocky terrain near Spiky Beach. The designation was “Long Course”, but my time was about half that  of the day before, and I don’t think I was alone. The three different courses gave us lots of technical practice. Many of us are honing our skills to prepare for the Australian Three Day Championships at Easter, to be held near Adelaide. Tasmania does extremely well at the national level.

Some orienteers come in very small sizes. Runnable farmland.
My fat friend

Orienteering Western Australia 2023

Well, this post is labelled Orienteering, as that was the actual reason for the travelling, and certainly our whole programme and timetable centred around the 7 races which were part of the event; however, to say we were only there in order to compete is a gross misrepresentation of what was happening.

Flying fox fun, Mundaring Sculpture Park

Although I wanted to compete myself (I have neglected to mention that the event was the Australian Orienteering Championships – perhaps an indication of where our priorities lay), I was primarily there for Gussy: to help him gain valuable experience for the future – to help him see new maps and terrains, to have some of the routine actions of orienteering become automatic, to gain experience in running through the bush, to help him meet other like-minded juniors his age, and to help him learn what is an appropriate race pace.

After the first race, the children roared around, playing with flying foxes and constructing an obstacle course, on which they did repeated time trials, trying to break their records.
Time trials

It’s hard for a kid who is good at cross country running to choose a pace that is appropriate to reading on the run. It takes experience and the making of errors to be able to know what constitutes an appropriate speed. It also takes experience to look away from the line to features on the map and in the landscape that will help with navigation. I felt that if he wants to be any good later, this was a very important age to be learning some of these lessons. Gus said he’d like that, so off we set.

Tree top adventures after the first two races
Tree top adventures
We loved the natural environment for our adventure. The wallaby was amused.

Meanwhile, luckily for both of us, my friend, Bonnie, wanted to be there to support her son, Isaac, who had just made his first Tasmanian team, but who was only in Grade 8, and Western Australia is a long way away. Much nicer for all if she and his siblings were there to share the experience.

Sprint race. We dd throw in some competing amongst the other frivolities. Sprints are held on campuses rather than in the bush. The maps are technical!! This campus (Aquinas College) was magnificent.
I believe this is Anigozanthos preissii … and hope my ID is correct.

All of that serious stuff does not mean we were just going to be race focused. Bonnie and I were both adamant that the young ones should enjoy the whole experience. I think our programme of enjoyment was possibly more energetic than the races: nearly every shot of the kids depicts a huge smile (inter alia), so I think we reached our target.

Actinodium cunninghamii Albany Daisy. Kings Park
Wattle bird, Kings Park

So; what did we do apart from racing? We went to Yanchep, saw the WA coastline; spent a few fabulous hours in the trees, swinging safely from wires and negotiating obstacles; used the flying fox at Mundaring Sculpture Park ad infinitum; walked the Cockatoo Walk near Crystal caves; explored (ig)Noble Falls; visited the wildflowers in Kings Park twice, and, not on the agenda as we didn’t know about it in advance, but spent many happy hours entertaining and being entertained by the puppy, Ruby, “child” of the owners of the Wooroloo. farm on which we stayed.

Shell Boat races, Rottnest Island
Cycling Rottnest
Please don’t touch the quokas … but they touched US.

In addition, another unpredicted and last-minute decision, but one that I really enjoyed, we swam along with many of the teams at Lake Lechenaultia after a very hot, long race, in which the kids enjoyed trying to tip the pontoon and throwing each other and coaches off into the water, whilst others of us swam and chatted at a safe distance from these frivolities.

Galah in the grounds of Christ Church Grammar for the final day’s sprint competition.
Banksia coccinea
Eucalyptus rhodantha

And last, but certainly not least, our day on Rottnest Island was a huge highlight for all: cycling, swimming and seeing darling quokas.
And somewhere in there, we did go orienteering – even successfully.

I am now home, and have edited my 950 photos and reduced the number brutally, I have had time to reflect further on the trip, and, as well as all the above, and the fun of navigating through strange terrain and seeing parts of Australia that are normally both unknown and inaccessible, I know that I also enormously enjoyed catching up with old friends, and sitting driving for over an hour most days with Bonnie and the kids through Western Australian farmland, just enjoying all the differences in the terrain, and the unfamiliar warmth at this time of the year.

Orienteering Women’s training weekend

I had read that there was an orienteering women’s training weekend happening at St Helens, but entries had closed when I went to join in. On the Friday, however, I got the bright idea of seeing if there’d been any cancellations. Weee. I was in.

Bush scenery from my weekend

First session was in 3 hours, but I had made dough and needed to bake the bread or my efforts would be wasted; I had to pack, of course, and drive 90 minutes to the venue in the Fingal valley. Hm. Rush rush. I threw gear into a bag (without a great deal of thought) while the bread was cooking, threw food with equal haste down my gullet, and set out for the location, Rajah Rocks.

Dawn Bay of Fires. I decided I didn’t want inside accomodation.

Here we practised a Middle distance course in a fabulously rocky area. I had already been training that morning, not realising I would be accepted into the camp, so was pretty tired as I drew near to the finish. As I headed further east to the coast, I witnessed the most wonderful sunset, but needed to keep driving, so hoped there would be more over the next two days. After a fun activity after dinner where we had to build a tower made out of spaghetti and string (and perch a marshmallow on top), I left the 32 or so others to their warm, comfortable accomodation and went to the coast to pitch my tent in the dark.

My tent, my happy place

I wanted to camp, and near the coast, as I love the sound of waves lapping against the shore while I lie in my sleeping bag. It’s a pity I packed my old 1980s bag in my haste: it wasn’t very warm, but I survived, and the beauty  of dawn next morning drove away any thoughts about relocating to standard-type accomodation.

Orienteering day 2. Waiting for things to get underway.

The Saturday contained lots of training sessions and even more camaraderie than that. Our fabulous coach, Francesca, had to design courses for total beginners through to former international representatives, from people who struggled to run to people who were very fit, and with ages from 14 to over 80, and she pleased the lot of us.  Perhaps her biggest problem was to get us to stop chatting and laughing, and get the next session started.  We did relocation in pairs,  compass only (HELP – I decided I was actually a shocking orienteer in this session), and contour only courses, where I was allowed to slightly revise my opinion of myself.

Bay of Fires. Dawn day 2.

On the final day we did a longish course practising long legs. I was stunned that I still had legs left to do this, but once I’d got going, somehow all was fine. It was very lonely out the far end of the long course; I think most took the shorter option for this session.

Tiny Orienteer

I was too busy orienteering (or chatting or eating) to photograph orienteering in action, but I did want to share the beauty side of our weekend, so here it is. As it is a post about orienteering,  I will finish with a shot of one of my very favourite orienteers taken recently rather than this weekend. She’s not quite a woman yet, but I’m sure she’ll join in such a camp one day.

VIC Wilsons Promontory 2014 Granite gorging.

Gussy paddles with his mum
Wilsons Promontory April 2014.
I have a love affair with granite. When my girls were babies, we frequently did daywalks in Cathedral Rocks National Park (NSW) with its granite tors the size of large buildings. As youngsters, they cut their orienteering teeth on the granite country surrounding Stanthorpe (QLD), Namadgi National Park (ACT) and Kooyoora State Park (VIC) … and then we moved to Tasmania, where the orienteering north of St Helens is characterised by more wonderful granite. We all dearly love this rock, primarily because of the shapely tors that greet you as you move through the forest – round bulges, sentinels of the bushland. They’re also fun to navigate around, or to climb up and over, or to jump from one to another.
 

Coastal granite is particularly marvellous, as the white sand it generates produces beaches of a magic colour, whether one is thinking of the sand itself, or of the special blue of the translucent water that accompanies it. We adore Magnetic Island, Wilsons Promontory and, closer to home, the Bay of Fires and Freycinet Peninsula – all for the same reason.

My daughters seem to share my passion, so we were all very happy when my first born asked if we could spend our family Easter at Wilsons Promontory this year. We’d stay at a nearby beach, and walk and swim during the day. Who says “No” to such a request? Not us. Toddler Gussy could play on the beach while the adults in relay combinations could run up mountains and along the tracks of the Prom.

 
Kirsten on Mt Oberon
The forecast for Friday (Anzac day) was excellent, so Kirsten and I got up in the dark and drove to the Prom for dawn photography, and then had a wonderful run up and down Mt Oberon. I really, really love running up mountains, and don’t get much opportunity to do it these days, so revelled in the chances this holiday gave me to pursue my old ways. The mountains of Europe that were my competing arena in bygone days are, of course, much steeper and longer, but these ones are still fun and pose a pleasant challenge. There is something very liberating about running up a mountain. We had set out nice and early, so enjoyed wonderful lighting from the top, and had the whole mountain to ourselves.
 
Coastal view, Oberon.
Back at Sandy Point, while Gussy was playing with his mum and the others were surfing, I went for another run, this time on the beach, as it had only taken 25 mins to run up Mt Oberon, and much less down, so I was feeling under-exercised. As I turned around on the return journey I saw a little dot in the distance that grew rapidly as I ran towards it. It was two-year-old Gussy (pursued by his Poppa) running towards me in that quaint style toddlers have, his little legs whirring, his arms flapping for balance. We calculated he ran about two kilometres that day. His face was aglow with excitement as he ran into my arms. Now he was doing what all the adults do, and he was very happy.
 
K, back down on Squeaky Beach
That afternoon my other daughter and my husband wanted some exercise, so we went back into the Prom and did a fast stride out up Mt Bishop. Again, the lighting was magic, as we’d waited until nearly sunset to do it. It was great to clamber up the summit tor and sit on top and gaze at the beaches below.
 
Whisky Bay and Picnic Bay, on the way to Mt Bishop

The next day the weather had turned, so my second daughter and I just did a flat run parrallel to the beach: 40 mins in howling gale-force winds and rain. In the afternoon, I persuaded the other adults to run along a track on the coast in the Prom while Yelena minded a sleeping Gus (who, of course, woke up to find us gone yet again). This was a ‘rest day’ as we were to run up another mountain on the morrow. Out we set into the punishing winds on the 12 km coastal track. It was exhilarating.

View from Mt Bishop
My husband and our second daughter on top of Mt Bishop.

The track was pretty protected up until a high point called Lookout Rocks, from where we could gaze out at an expansive purview. I didn’t like what I saw of the continuation of our route: a nose dive down to sea level and along to the point … which meant we’d need to run back up the slippery dip on the return journey. I feared it was too steep to run, given the amount I’d already done in the last couple of days. On we went in the magnificently moody weather. It reminded me of running on the headlands of Emerald Beach in the cyclone last year. The sea below was surging in giant hillocks of water, all churned white from the wind. The lighting was a yellowy-grey. Surprisingly, I did manage to run the return journey, as did my daughter and her husband, so we were all happy.

Keith and I on the track

Keith and I stop to take a look at the view below. It seemed a long way to go down and then back up again at the end of a full day.
The sun came out for about 5 seconds – just long enough for me to grab Kirsten’s camera and take this

 

Kirsten running up boulders at Tongue Pt
The next morning we decided not to get up in the dark. Poor Gussy had woken up from every sleep to find that some of the people he loves (and always his Nanna) had gone running. This day we ‘d have breakfast together and then run while he played on the beach. He appeared in my bed in the dark at 6 a.m., fully expecting me to be getting on my running clothes. “I’m VERY, very fast, Nanna,” he announced. He was obviously angling for inclusion in today’s expedition. He whirred his tiny legs around to demonstrate. I said I’d run up mountains with him when he gets bigger, and he was happy enough with that, although not entirely appeased.
Yelena back down on Squeaky beach after the mountain. The sun has now come back out.

On this day, it was my second daughter who was going to run skywards with me, and we’d chosen Mt Bishop to be our mountain, as we’d only walked up it so far. The weather was murky, and we already had photos from the top, so for the first time we ran without the burden of cameras. Nice!

… and then we did some beach and headland running while Bruce surfed
As with Mt Oberon, we were at the top in under half an hour, so made up the ullage on a track down below, between Squeaky Beach and Picnic Bay, the perfect ending to a granite beach extravaganza. My husband ran part way up and down the mountain, and had a final surf while we did the track. Farewell Prom.

Orienteering and Mountain Running – not walking, Part One

Louise Fairfax: Orienteering and Mountain Running. Part One
1989 World Orienteering Championships, Sweden 
 
1989 World Champs, Sweden  
 
1990 Asia-Pacific Champs, and World Cup events, USA and Canada (1 gold, 1 silver)
As an orienteer and mountain runner (inter alia), I have enjoyed seeing many beautiful parts of the world, and have made many very special friends. The diversity of forest and cornucopia of superlative views from an abundance of different peaks have made me very aware, not only of how extraordinarily lucky I am to have seen such things, but, and possibly more significantly, the importance of such places to the peace of our souls, as well as to the continuation of our species, and to the contribution to the happiness of those yet to come. Our world is such an amazing place – whether we are thinking of forests, rivers or the views to eternity from a mountain top. We have to fight hard to keep these dwindling places of beauty alive.
The blogsite is titled ‘walks’, and I have put in lots of those. I have always intended to add in some of our European distance walks once I had written up the Tassie ones.
Bit by bit, European sections will be added. I am not sure how to separate them from Tassie ones (and I want to keep the two facets distinct), so my first solution is to put them all as predating the walking, even though there is an overlap. Here is my first posting on European experiences, and I am beginning with some of my happiest moments as an international competitor. These photos are taken from my comp file, and not my separate training file. One thing at a time. This one is already complete, so can be posted. Perhaps these photos help contextualise some of what comes later. Who I was is an integral part of who I am still. One moves on, but never entirely away from what went on before.
1990 Trans-Tasman Champs NZ (1st)
1991 World Champs, Czech Repub
1992 Asia-Pacific Champs, Japan

1992 Asia-Pacific Champs, Japan (2 silver)

1992 IAAF World Mountain Running champs, Italy 
!992 IAAF World Mountain Running Championships. Louise Fairfax AUS 4th place.
1992 World Triathlon Champs, Canada (4th – Masters)
 1993 Internationaler Matterhornlauf 1st
1993 Schweizer Frauenlauf 
1993 World Triathlon Champs (7th Masters)
1994 World Duathlon Champs – 1st Masters
1993 IAAF World Mountain Running Champs 11th
 1994 Internationaler Matterhornlauf 2nd
1994 Swiss Alpine Marathon Sertiglauf 1st, race record
1994, Tasmanian Sportswoman of the year
1994, World Stair Racing Champs, 5th (here, training in Central park)
1994 IAAF World Mountain Running Championships GER 13th
Orienteering World Cup
1993 Swiss Alpine Marathon Sertiglauf 1st
1995 Ovranaz-Rambert 1st
1994 Swiss Alpine Marathon 1st
1995 training on  glacier, Champez du Lac, SWI