Heather's Exquisite Map of Tassie

Before they climbed into their respective tents, Heather whispered to Tim, "That Antonio bloke has tickets on himself, but I think we gave those poor girls some relief for a little while. Anyway, good night, Tim."

"Yeah," Tim whispered with a chuckle, "I was a bit jealous he didn't give me any attention. But I'll have you know I actually prefer Kathy. I didn't think I had a type, but she looks a lot like my ex, Abi, but with a cuter accent. You can have a shot at Anita if you get a chance. Who knows, perhaps she bats for your team. Anyway, catch ya in the morning. G'night."

Heather gave a little giggle. "I'm not gay, if that's what you think. I told Antonio to throw him off."

"But Ryan told me..."

"Ha! Of course he did, the little shit!" She laughed. "Well, have a good sleep. I'll wake you at sunrise if you're not already up."

THURSDAY

The following morning was cool as they packed their sleeping kit and tents, then dropped into the communal kitchen hut for breakfast. There were several familiar faces there; Antonio, who greeted Heather and Tim with a big "Ciao" and smile. The members of the local bushwalking club were all there, chatting noisily among one another while cooking breakfast on various lightweight gas, shellite and methylated spirit stoves. There was an English couple and two German men they hadn't yet met the previous night, plus the unknown man from the bar the night before. Tim briefly spoke to him, learning he was Chilean from Santiago named Javier.

"It's like the bloody United Nations in here," he said to Heather as they made their own breakfast; Tim cooking oats on his spirit-burning Trangia and Heather chewing on a muesli bar while boiling water for tea on her tiny lightweight Pocket Rocket gas stove.

Antonio approached Heather as they ate breakfast and Tim flashed her a grin, realising she wasn't interested in Antonio in the slightest, but attracted him like a moth to a flame. She raised her eyebrows to Tim in response, a slight grimace on her face, suggesting exasperation. He'd known Heather for less than twenty-four hours and yet he was sure they'd be mates. Like he was with her brother Ryan, whom he gave and took shit with, bantering back and forth as natural as breathing every day back home.

They caught the first shuttle bus of the day from the visitors centre to the track-head a kilometre or two down the road. Most people from the camp kitchen were there with them, including Antonio who sat opposite, engaging Heather in more conversation, while the older crowd from the bushwalking club chatted gregariously at the front of the bus. Javier, the Chilean fellow, sat in front of Tim, looking over his shoulder and chatting easily with him.

The day looked glorious with a cloudless blue sky and they applied sunscreen. Heather put on a pink cap and her dark sunglasses, while Tim sported his broad rimmed cotton-canvas hat he usually wore when playing cricket. He fetched Ryan's small Sony camera from the top of his rucksack. "Hey, Antonio, mate. Would you mind taking our photo?"

"Sure, I can do that."

"Ta, mate." Tim and Heather put their arms around each other's shoulders, as if they'd known one another for years, and gave big smiles.

"There you go." He handed the camera back to Tim, then spoke to Heather, "Will I see you on the mountain?"

"Yeah, we're heading up Cradle. Bloody fantastic day for it too. You go ahead, we'll see you up there."

Antonio walked off along the raised timber boardwalk across the grassy plain at track's beginning, while Tim spotted some dung on the ground. "Hey look, I bet these are wombat poos. They're square, exactly like you said! I'll get a photo for Ryan." He crouched down and took a photo while Heather laughed. However, when Tim stood up again he struggled under the weight of his rucksack.

"Do you know how much your pack weighs?" Heather asked.

"It was slightly under twenty-five kilos at the airport and that was without water in my bottles. I had to pay extra cos the baggage limit was twenty-three kay-gees."

"Wow, I hope you're okay with such weight. You need some lighter equipment. I guess it's too late now. But don't worry, we can take it easy if the going gets tough."

"I borrowed a fair amount from Ryan. This is basically what he was training with. How much does yours weigh?"

"About fifteen."

"Oh, you must have some pretty specky stuff in there," Tim said, wondering how Heather's rucksack was a full ten kilograms lighter than his own. They began to walk, noting Antonio heading off towards the forested hills in the distance, while Javier and the bushwalking group were already out of sight.

Wildflowers decorated bushes and grasses either side of the track, enticing honey bees and the fat bumble bees who occasionally bumbled past the hiker's faces. Tim was happy he could keep up with Heather, despite the weight on his back. Now Antonio was out of sight, somewhere in the forest up ahead. "Antonio's not so bad, Heather. He was a bit full of himself, but I thought he'd be your type."

"What gives you the impression he's my type? Yesterday you thought I was gay!"

Tim laughed. "He's tall, dark and handsome. Isn't that every girl's type? Anyway, it was Ryan who said you preferred girls and then you confirmed it yesterday at the bar. You can have a crack at the Danish girl if you like. I suppose we'll see her later."

She turned and gave Tim a cheeky little smile. "Ha! Maybe I really do prefer the Irish girl and will give you a run for your money. But don't worry, I haven't been with a woman since I was twenty and realised I still preferred blokes. Anyhow, you seem to think Antonio's handsome, so you can have him cos Antonio isn't my kinda bloke."

"What is your type then?" Tim asked, genuinely curious.

"Well, my type used to be A-Jays, back in the day, but I don't even know if I have a type anymore."

"A-Jays? As in army-jerks?"

Heather chuckled. "Yeah, sadly. But I don't go for blokes like that now. Too cocky and unreliable. Anyway, what about you? You said your girlfriend went home to New Zealand?"

"Yeah, she was from Christchurch. We were together for three years, then she moved back for family reasons. We'd even talked about marriage before she left, and decided we'd try long distance, so I went over there several times over a period of six months. But then she said she couldn't do it anymore."

"I'm sorry to hear."

"Nah, it's all good now. I was pretty cut up about it for a while but I'm learning to let her go. Abi was special. You know, I thought she was the one."

"Is there even such a thing as the one?" Heather said. "Anyway, there's our new Irish friend, Kathy, who you like so much. Some, ah, rebound sex might do you good. After all, I hear sex while camping is fucking in tents." Her delivery was completely deadpan.

Tim couldn't help but laugh. "Your joke was pretty intense. Not to mention lame." Still, she'd mentioned sex, which suddenly caused him to think about her in a new light.

"It's an oldie but a goldie I reckon," she said, looking back with a grin.

They were now walking up through the forest, surrounded by the slight scent of decaying vegetation, and Tim began to feel the burn in both legs and lungs from the increasingly steep incline. For the first time he noticed the rucksack straps digging into his shoulders, and despite his reasonable fitness, muscles unused to carrying such a load began to scream for more oxygen. A pretty creek ran beside the track, and Tim stopped to rest, taking the opportunity to photograph a small waterfall, while Heather used an Olympus to take the occasional photograph too.

While they rested, Heather chatted. "So tell me, what's Ryan like these days? When he's not breaking his leg."

"He's a good bloke. He's been living with me for over eighteen months now and we get on pretty well. He's a funny bloke though, cos he's got a major crush on our housemate, Georgina, who doesn't feel the same way. Georgie doesn't appreciate his sense of humour but Ryan likes to think he's in with a chance. Though I don't think he's game enough to ask her out. I hate to think how he's annoying her while I'm away."

"Poor Ry, he does have a special brand of humour which isn't for everyone. He's mentioned Georgina a couple of times. But that's my little brother, always falling for girls who aren't interested." They began walking up the hill again, Tim adjusting his hip-straps to shift the weight distribution of his rucksack, while Heather managed to chat without even puffing. "He's told me quite a bit about you too."

"All good things I hope."

Quick as a flash, Heather turned and replied with a grin, "Nah, he says you're a flog."

Tim snorted a laugh. "Yeah, like I said, he's a funny bloke. I think I'll probably have to kick him out."

"I was just kiddin' ya. Ryan reckons you're a top bloke. He wouldn't have given you his tickets if he didn't think otherwise."

"Yeah, I know. Giving each other shit's one of our hobbies."

"I guess you two have become quite good mates then?"

"You could say so. Georgie reckons he and I carry on like a married couple at times."

Heather chuckled, then more seriously asked, "So you grew up in Brisbane?"

"Not originally. I was born in Cairns, where Dad's from. Though me Mum's originally from near Grafton in New South Wales. Um, but we moved to Townsville when I was about three, then Brisvagas when I was thirteen. That's about it."

"Any brothers or sisters?"

"I have a sister and brother. Both older. "

"Ah, the baby of the family, like Ryan. Do you see them much?"

"Probably don't see each other as much as we should, but I guess we're close. My sister's a doctor and so we spend a bit of time debriefing, or venting about the health system I suppose. Every time we're together, actually."

"That's what family's for isn't it? A shoulder to lean on. Someone to vent to."

"Yeah, pretty much. I guess we're lucky. I know you and Ryan are fairly close but live so far apart."

"Yeah," she sighed. "It's a shame he was offered the Brisbane job literally a few weeks after I moved back down here. Murphy's law I guess."

"Yeah, Murphy's a cunt."

"Yes he is. So how'd you end up in nursing?"

Tim chuckled. "Mum's a nurse so I guess it runs in the blood. Like I said, my sister Jo's a doc and I tried for medical school too, but didn't do well enough on my UMAT test to get into undergrad medicine. My mark had to be in the top fifteen percent of candidates just to get an interview, and I think I was something like in the top twenty percent. But I always found medicine fascinating and used to go through medical texts back in high school, so thought nursing would be the next best thing. Though, every now and then I think about sitting the GAMSAT and having another crack at getting into medicine."

"If you really love it you should totally chase that dream. I actually considered medicine or nursing once, but then bailed on applying for uni and joined the army instead. I chose to be a medic, which was in the same line I guess, and I learnt heaps of stuff doctors and nurses do. I love helping people so it was a great gig most of the time."

"Ryan told me you were in for nine years?"

"Yep, nine long years. I was thinking how you said you lived in Townsville as a kid. Well, I was based there for three years out at Lavarack Barracks. Townsville's such a great little city, except it's so fucking hot in summer."

"Yeah, you've got that right. We all still go back up to Cairns some Christmases to visit me Nan and we sweat buckets. Still, she cooks a roast!"

"Of course ya Nan cooks a roast." Heather said with a laugh. "Can't give up those Christmas traditions, even if the mercury's approaching forty degrees! Though I think everywhere's hot compared to Hobart. But I reckon all my postings in Australia were somewhere extra hot and humid! Townsville was still one of my favourite places though. My mates and me would regularly run up and down Mount Stuart out back of the barracks, and sometimes Castle Hill in town. You know, the Goat Track. What a killer. Sweating buckets isn't sufficient to describe how drenched we'd get, but I loved it. A great place for training."

"True. Fucken crazy," Tim puffed, hardly wishing to think about running up and down hills when he currently had his own hill to climb. With twenty-five plus kilos on his back.

"So let me guess, you're a Cowboys fan then? I bet Johnathan Thurston's your favourite player."

Despite his puffing, Tim couldn't help but laugh. "Good guess. JTs a fucken legend! I love him."

"You love him, do ya?" Heather said with a laugh. "It's funny, down here hardly anyone knows anything about rugby league. But when I lived in Townsville many of me mates were into it and I enjoyed going to games with them. It's a brutal sport. But I always missed real footy. AFL of course."

"Yeah, I saw your Uncle Pat's stickers on his rear windscreen. Quite subtle."

Heather chuckled. "Yep, go the Hawks! Though, if we had our own AFL team here in Tasmania I'd support them too. I don't think Uncle Pat would cos he's such a rusted on one-eyed Hawks fan."

"Yeah, I saw the Hawks tattoo on his arm too."

"Yeah, he also has one over his heart."

"Um, do you mind me asking about the girl's name tattooed on his arm?"

They exited the forest at a large crater-like lake, aptly named 'Crater Lake' in the typically Australian fashion of naming the obvious. The topography surrounding the lake was like a bowl, with tall grey cliffs interspersed with alpine trees and shrubs anywhere there was enough soil to get their roots down. Heather stopped and whispered, "Wow! So amazing." She took a photo and then turned to Tim. "Kelly was my cousin. She was Pat's pride and joy, and Mum says they were inseparable, just like me and my Dad. Uncle Pat was a fisherman back then. He'd grown up with it, working on Grandpa's boat along the east coast. Kelly used to wait at the jetty for his boat to return, and as she got older she'd row a dory Pat had given her a little way into the bay, to get a better glimpse of the returning fishing boats. One morning there was a freak storm and the when the fishing fleets returned they found the dory drifting upside down in the bay. Kelly was found washed up on shore a day later. She was seven. Uncle Pat was heartbroken and never went back to sea again. He hates the ocean, and won't even touch seafood anymore. But he's blamed himself ever since. I was five at the time and still remember."

Tim felt bad for asking and for judging Pat as a rough character. "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked. I'm really sorry if I brought up sad memories."

"No, no, it's okay. I know Pat appears rough but he has a heart of gold. He's always doted over me, treating me like a daughter. You see, me Mum's his sister and they've always been close. Uncle Pat helped us out a lot, especially after Dad was injured."

Tim decided not to ask too many personal questions, and so didn't ask for Heather to elaborate. However, she went on. "Dad lost his leg in an accident at work. Mum couldn't support us on her wage working admin at the zinc-works, so Uncle Pat and Aunty Joan lived with us for a time to help out."

Tim felt bad for dragging up old feelings. "I'm real sorry, Heather. I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, like I said, it's okay. I'm not sure why I told you all that, but it's how it is down here. Lots of hardship and tragedy. It breeds us tough."

And Heather was tough, exuding an unmistakable hardness, like an aura of steel. As they climbed the steep track to the top of the bluff, Heather pushed on, hardly breaking a sweat, and Tim puffed behind, carefully watching where he placed his feet on the rocky slope, and rarely watching Heather's toned arse uphill from him. He wondered what she was like in her job as a police officer. Probably a real hard arse.

They reached the top of the bluff and Cradle Mountain dominated the skyline like an enormous craggy rock wall on which a colossal giant once sat, leaving an imprint in the wall where its bum had been, like a gigantic saddle, forming the 'cradle' part of the mountain. Below the saddle was Dove Lake, with its black tannin stained waters stretching away to the north. The region was a light grey quartzite and schist plateau capped by rugged grey-brown intrusive dolerite mountain peaks, all eroded by massive glacial forces over millions of years, but at least as recently as the Pleistocene 'Ice Age' era, over twelve-thousand years previously.

"Jesus, it's stunning," Heather said, taking in the view.

Tim, still puffing from the hard slog up to the bluff, huffed, "Its breath taking." Sucking down the delicious cool mountain air, he looked around with the feeling he was in a foreign landscape. "This reminds me more of New Zealand than Australia."

"It's pretty unique, don't ya think?"

"It's beautiful."

They moved on towards the mountain, reaching a double storey hut with stone around the ground floor and slabs of timber shingle cladding the top floor. There was a door on each level, with the top door opening out to thin air, and a broad headed shovel hanging off the slab walls beside it. "See the top door," Heather said, pointing to the top floor. "The snow can get real deep here and the door up there's the only way out. The shovel's in case you have to dig."

"That's crazy," Tim breathed, realising the snow could get several metres deep. There were several rucksacks inside the hut, left by people making the side trip up to Cradle's summit. Tim recognised several belonging to the local bushwalking club members who'd shared their bus on the way to the track-head. He also recognised Antonio's rucksack in one corner. With a little grin he said, "You'll get to see ya mate up there."

"Oh, I can't wait. I love guys who can't keep their hands to themselves. Normally I prefer to arrest them though."

"I'm sure you'd love to throw a pair of cuffs on old mate."

Heather laughed. "Damn it, I knew I forgot something!"

The climb to the summit was steep up an increasingly rocky boulder scree. Tim felt light as a feather now he was unencumbered by the heavy rucksack, and they were practically bounding up the brown rocks, encrusted with orange and green lichens. Heather appeared to have a competitive streak, because every time Tim strode ahead she'd be up beside him and pushing past. However, she was never dangerous on the slope, taking a careful line, but an unspoken competition set in between them, climbing ever upwards.

The local bushwalking club members were on their way down, and they passed with cheery greetings, stating, "Not far to go now."

Heather watched them disappearing down the track. "What do you reckon the average age of their group is? I'd say maybe early-to-mid sixties."

"Yeah, probably. I guess." Tim hadn't thought too much about them.

"I hope when I'm their age I'll be as active as they are. It's great."

"If you don't mind me asking, how old are you, Heather?"

"That's okay. I'm twenty-nine. Two years older than Ryan." She took in a deep breath. "I don't normally advertise this but I'll be thirty next month. How about you?"

"Twenty-six."

"Ah, a little beyond the dark-side of twenty-five."

"Well you don't look almost thirty. I'd have guessed perhaps forty, maybe forty-five." He gave her a grin.

"Watch out, cobber. Otherwise I'll find you a much quicker way off this mountain than you bargained for!"

They reached the summit, encountering Antonio chewing an apple, preparing to head back down. "Buongiorno," he greeted them enthusiastically, "The views are spettacolare!"

Well, Tim thought, at least he's acknowledging me too now. "Hey, Antonio, would you mind taking another pic of us?"

"I can do that, no troubles."

Heather and Tim posed for another photograph and then looked around. Describing the view as spectacular was an understatement. Rugged mountain peaks stuck out of the heathy plateau, intersected by a maze of deep valleys. There were lakes dotting the landscape here and there, with patches of forest and grassy moors. The sky was brilliant blue, but far off to the south-west, hovering over distant mountain peaks, was a line of dark-grey clouds. Once again Tim couldn't believe how different it all looked to his state of Queensland.