Wednesday, 12 December 2012
It is a 20 control score event, on a colour map (novelty) with an hour's time limit. Pat chooses to walk, Mark and I say we'll run (sort of). The dibbers are homemade, costing less than a dollar each(!), and the controls have a button to press on arrival. Simple. It is also a punching start, rather than the usual mass start mayhem we have learnt to call normal.
I go first and head NW and round to 13, then retrace my steps to visit control 9. More difficult features than usual mean close inspection of the map is essential. I trot round to 7 behind the cricket nets. It's hard not to flinch at the thwacks of willow on leather. It's a hot evening and everyone's out doing their own thing. This explains why there is never anything worth watching on television. I have a stack of DVD's awaiting my attention, but not while the weather stays like this. I find 1 on the end of the fence and then traipse all the way round to 16. The dibbers work well, with a flash and a polite beep.
Control 3 causes me to hunt a bit amongst the bushes, and then it's on to 6, 17, and 19. I decide to leave out control 4. A voice calls 'Dad!' and I turn to see Mark hailing me from the other side of a small horse paddock. He joins me, grateful to find that one. We trot together to 20 and then diverge our separate ways. 8 is next, then 15, then 18. I am grateful to a man who peers over his garden fence to assist me at 15.
The clock is running down, I have only about 10 minutes left. Up the road to 5, then up even more to 14, heading now for the finish. I have left out 4, 2, 10 and 12, arriving back with only a couple of minutes to spare. For the first time in my (lengthy) orienteering career, a cup of ice-cold squash is pushed into my grateful hands. Pat arrives just after me and then Mark. My legs ache from an hour's activity, but I've enjoyed every minute. Proper orienteering, colour map, electronic punching, sunny evening, whats not to like? Can't wait 'til next week!
Monday, 3 December 2012
Anyway, a 30 minute trek south in the rush hour seems a good idea just to get out. As we approach the venue, "Road Closed" notices cause the satnav to hyperventilate, but we make it eventually. This evening's offering is a Score event, rather than a Scatter course, but I'm not sure why. I opt for the D course which gives me 40 minutes to score as many points as possible. Double digits is good.
Turning over my map on the signal, I spot 16, 17, 18 and 20 all within hailing distance, so determine to build a loop including those five-pointers. South east through the park, and across the bridge to 18 and then south to control 10. I'm learning to despise these controls at the end of cul-de-sacs. Back and round to 16. Legs feel heavy and uncoordinated, still full of germs I expect. I'm OK on the clock so down and round to 6 on the way to 17. Three valuable controls visited and still 15 minutes left. North I go to 20 in the park then cut across the grass to 13, all the while on the lookout for snakes. No worries, this grass is better than our lawn.
Time is starting to press, I need to head for home. I trot along to 9, blowing hard now and then on to 14, needing to sneak the occasional walk. I head across the park around the cricket oval. There are a lot of folks here playing some weird game with an oval ball. I see the finish clock and just manage to make the time with 40 seconds to spare. Nine controls visited will do me. Pat arrives a little while later, having walked a very similar course to mine but in the reverse direction.
I continue to lose weight with my antipodean eating style involving lots of salad and fresh fruit. Ten kilos (a stone and a half) have evaporated (I think that's the right word) and these street events have helped my running fitness. In January I reach the grand old age of 65, so maybe my orienteering will improve. If only I can find some.