Bushwalkers’ attitudes are rapidly changing around the globe.
Tha classic Tasmanian bushwalker’s ‘look’. Canvas pack and gaiters, broad rimmed hat, sturdy pants for the scrub and a long sleeved collared shirt to protect from the harsh rays of the sun. The only thing that’s missing in this picture are the scrub gloves (gardening gloves) to protect against all the prickles. These days, I no longer wear a watch and have replaced my waxed cotton hat with a daggy legionaries hat that has been described as ‘wearing old man’s undies on my head’. ‘Look’ is irrelevant in the bush, what matters is functionality.
Bushwalkers’ attitude is changing rapidly, and with it, the gear that is being manufactured globally. Outdoor clothing and equipment these days isn’t simply expected to perform, it’s also expected to sell. And if gear is to sell, it needs to appeal to the user. Some outdoor clothing brands sell well because the user feels empowered while wearing their products. One brand in particular makes gear and clothing that is functional but also looks neat. And despite the fact that this brand isn’t known for their product’s durability, and despite the fact that their products are overpriced, people still buy it. (In certain parts of the world, wearing certain brands can be seen as a statement of social status). A fancy raincoat might only keep you half dry, but at least you will look your best while you gradually get soaked.
I’m sad to say that it seems to me that disappearing are the days of the ‘daggy’ bushwalker trudging through the mud just for the fun of it, replaced by the trendy and instagram savvy hiker with their fresh clean look and brand new beautifully beading jacket, wearing waterproof boots while walking on a pounded dry track without a single puddle on it. Gone are the days of sitting by a fire, waiting patiently for one’s billy to boil. People want hot water and they want it now! So they blast out their gas canisters, and sip their tea while it’s still too hot and often burn themselves by using lightweight titanium cups that transmit the heat really efficiently to one’s sensitive lips.
My favourite cup is a red and white enamel cup I bought in Hungary about six years ago. It’s not exactly lightweight, and has a handle that sticks out. But it reminds me of home and I tend to take it with me. Not every time, but whenever I can.
The tradition of bushwalking as a modern recreational activity is seeped in the appreciation of Nature. It is about having a slow cup of tea and taking in your surroundings. It’s about learning bird calls, recognising certain creatures and features of the land and getting to know them. It’s about noticing a three hundred million year fossil, embedded in rock as one steps over it. It’s about returning to a place over and over again, in order to perceive how it changes over long periods of time. It annoys me when people describe a visit to a place as having ‘done it’. Have you learnt everything you can about a place from a single visit? Has the landscape given you everything it may provide for you?
Bushwalking is also driven by challenge and exploration as manifested in one of my least favourite terms of the English language. ‘Bush-bashing’. People use this phrase so casually, and frequently. It portrays the attitude of the bushwalker being an adversary of the environment they visit. I prefer to say ‘scrub wriggling’, to imply one must find a playful path through the vegetation, rather than create a passage of destruction through the use of brute force. Language is a powerful tool, and it shapes us as much as we shape it. Just because a term rolls of the tongue easily doesn’t mean we should use it mindlessly.
Appreciating a west coast sunset.
There is a curiosity that draws people out to the Tasmanian bush. And it’s probably not curiosity about the scrub, the mud or the snakes for most people. But the scrub and the mud and the snakes are all part of it. The walker must give some kind of effort, in order to reach a place that is worth visiting. The greater the effort the walker is willing to put in, the greater the reward that may be gained from visiting the place.
The place that the walker visits alters the walker’s nature. This is why experienced Tasmanian walkers tend to be wiry, stubborn, and overly optimistic. These are the traits that are required to reach certain parts of Tasmania on foot. Each trip that a buhwalker undertakes alters their nature; increases their stamina, resilience and knowledge of the landscape.
We enter the bush, the wild, because we are curious, because we wish to see what is out there. And when we enter nature, we interact with it, we leave a mark, leave some kind of effect. For old time bushwalkers it was fine to strip pandani leaves to kindle a fire. It was fine to cut new tracks, to create new campsites. It was fine to air drop food to remote places, and to leave the buckets out there and simply bury any rubbish one had. The bush seemed infinite, and endless. That is no longer the case.
These days bushwalkers follow Leave No Trace principles. Plan ahead and prepare. Travel and camp on hard and durable surfaces. Dispose of waste properly. Leave what you find. Minimise campfire impacts. Respect wildlife. Be considerate of others.
As the number of people increases on this globe, and the size of our wild areas decreases, the demand placed on these remaining areas continues to grow. The more native habitat we wipe out, the more valuable the remainder becomes. And the more people will wish to spend time in it.
In the last hundred years, bushwalkers’ attitudes have shifted from those of conquerors, to visitors.
And now, we must evolve from visitors to custodians.
It is no longer enough to preserve. We must also begin to restore.
-A.S. Lenah Valley. 11/02/22