I wasn’t quite sure what time of the day to hedge my bets for today. A term that started its origins, as all good idioms do, a long time ago in land far away. Way back to the 1500s when the term hedge began to be used to mean to dodge, evade, or avoid a direct commitment. Possibly likened to staying hidden behind a hedge, coming from an old English word hecg meaning a boundary marker that enclosed property, fence, or thick bush. Then came the 1600s and the use shifted into a context related to protection and finances:
It was first used in a gambling context in 1672 in a satirical play The Rehearsal, written by the 2nd Duke of Buckingham, George Villiers. These days it is commonly used far more broadly, describing anything that may be applied to reduce risk and/or keep your options open. On my mind was that the closest pluviometers, coming from Latin and Greek words pluvial and metron meaning rain and an instrument for measuring, indicated the area received a decent half an inch of rain late in Thursday. Enough to potentially dampen the steep quarry walls:
Friday didn’t look as wet but was potentially a bit sprinkly, yes I have made that word up. As such I put my money on an after work visit. As I left the office with enough of a drizzle to have to use the windscreen wipers, some may have questioned my sanity. On the coastal crags that wouldn’t worry me, but the friction holds on these quarried granite faces quickly become pretty useless. Who, however, was to say that 30km to the east it was also less than ideal conditions. My gamble looked to have paid off and it was dry’ish on arrival:
That all changed by the second route. Despite picking off the well-rehearsed and, for this place, lower grade routes, things became interesting. Not put off, I continued and managed seven clean laps from the ten I hit before feeling completely stuffed. Often having to work a different sequence due to the conditions, and pulling way harder than I normally would. Focusing so much that I did not even stop to take any images of the multiple sun orchids, not surprisingly on a day like today closed up. There was yet another reason for coming up here:
I haven’t been able to see the above sight for over five years. Not since the 1966 bridge at the base of the dam was closed. That was in May 2021 because of the enormous increase of traffic resulting from the mural, completed just three months prior. With the government not prepared to hedge their bets on there not being an accident, they footed the hefty final $37 million bill. To put things into perspective, that is just under half the amount of funding provided in the state wide natural resource management program over the last ten years:
Onto brighter topics, despite losing my bet, it was great to have a play on the walls of Welly Dam quarry to round off the week. And nice to finally be able to drive home ‘the back way’, through the countryside as opposed to along the highways. Not surprisingly I was feeling somewhat achy the next morning. I did however need to stretch my legs with a march through Peppy Beach, while Lisa and the Peppy Plungers prepared to gather for a dip. Today I was pleased to have a sprinkle in the sky, as it brought with it the promise of a pot of gold:
