Weathering the Storm

This past weekend had storms of all kinds. We drove up to Thredbo, the charming mountain town 200km south of Canberra in the Snowy Mountains. It's autumn, and we were keen to get some nice hill walking in, plus joyfully reunite with Tamar's parents who have come to visit. Our friends from Canberra came too, with their kids, so we were quite a posse.

Storm #1: actually a storm. The chair lift up Mt. Kocziuszko was on the verge of being shut down, winds and rain buffeting us as we inched up the mountainside. It got colder and mistier and foggier the higher we went. When we disembarked a few long minutes later, we were greeted by 80 kph gusts and a "feels like" temperature of -10C. Fun! Luckily there is an inn up there, so we had a warm place to debate. In the end most of us made a valiant effort at the 10km summit trail. I was "walking" with the dauntless Tova, aged 4, who started howling the moment we hit the wind (or it hit us) and didn't stop. The wind was so ludicrously strong that we had to walk backwards, or bend almos double to push against it. Tova gave in after a few minutes and I took her back to her grandfather Avi, who plied her with pancakes and probably more cocoa. Tamar thoughtfully turned back before the baby died of exposure. Aurora, Rona, Tash and I ended up making it to the first look-out, pushing upwind with tears, snot and smiles glistening on our faces.

Then later we decided to go to the aquatic/sports centre. Basketball, trampolines, a little climbing wall, a sweet pool with a gentle water slide. What could possibly go wrong?

Storm #2: There should be a law against going down waterslides holding your baby when you have a chronic lower back problem. Or, which is tantamount to the same thing, there should be a law against being a stupid idiot. Either way, the long arm of justice reached out and wrenched that stubborn disc a few inches north of my tailbone, yoink! 

It is decidedly awkward when you can't support your own torso without crumpling in fiery pain, but are in the little splash pool at the bottom of the water slide. You loll around trying to de-spazz your back to little avail. Then you get really really really really cold. Uncomfortable lifeguards slide a spinal board under you while you shiver like an epileptic. You spend some time in a cold white room with a silver blanket on you while a pale blonde lifeguard tries to warm you up with a hair dryer. You cleverly came to Thredbo with an ER doc friend and he has various bits of good advice. An earnest EMT arrives, leather-faced from years of rescuing people in the fresh air, and you get four lectures in a row about the merits of the MacKenzie method. After a few failed tries to get to your hands and knees, your two strapping comrades manage to lift you up and you put 96% of your weight on their shoulders, a la Saving Private Ryan. Tamar offers to put down the back seats of the station wagon so the whole spinal stretcher could go in "hearse style" but in the end you sit up front, appreciating that little handle above the door like never before and basically hanging from it. Thirty stairs and forty expletives later you collapse gratefully into bed and settle in for a few days of immobility, discomfort, self pity and reading. You read Game of Thrones from 12:30-4:30 a.m. to pass the time while the sciatica keeps you awake. Endure the long drive home. A gruff physiotherapist tapes you up and you faithfully do the assigned exercises. You try your very hardest to heal in time for the family trip to meet your parents in Hawaii, but, bitterly, you're not 21 anymore and can't go.

Ironically, it poured all three days of our Thredbo trip, then the Sunday that Tamar had to drive me back was perfectly blue and sunny. So Rona and Tash took all the kids up to the summit of Australia's tallest mountain and had a marvelous time. Guess your kids win some. you lose some.

Wintry scenes just up the road from beaches and palm trees

So totally impervious to the pouring rain, gotta love kids raincoats

Sophia and Sami bust up to the summit, hand in hand