My rookie era: I lived off the land for a week – by day five I was naked, my clothes dangling over the campfire | Australian lifestyle
At 15 I proved the maxim: “Hire a teen while they still know everything.” That summer of 1971, I judged the world and concluded that civilisation was meh, and surely doomed. So with the zeal of the truly clueless I resolved to try living off the land, and left behind my comfortable family home and smirking parents. Equipped for an epic, I’d packed a tent, canteen, billy, sleeping bag, cord, emergency rations (two carrots, bag of soup mix, creamed rice) and a bushcraft pamphlet protecting a Women’s Weekly cutting of Princess Caroline of Monaco. I’d convinced fellow members in our class geek club, Peter and David, of the venture’s virtue, and together we chugged along now-vanished tracks through Victoria’s central highlands to Molesworth station, then ascended 460 metres over the summit of nearby Mount Concord to the nirvana I’d spotted on a survey map: a grassy flat beside the seductively named Chrystal Creek. ‘There are moments in life when hubris resets your ego.’: Andrew Herrick in 1971 Day two we spent staggering around in agony, …







