A journey into the unknown that is Lake George, NSW is one that I have been chomping at the bit to get to for years. Last night it finally came to fruition.
One of the local farmers who owns property on the Eastern edge of the lake, very kindly allowed me access to the water from her farm. I knew I was in a good place when I drove up to the house to be greeted by the lady on a followed by three dogs. She gave us some good local intel on the lake, how to get there and some history on a boating tragedy on the lake.
Lake George has been surrounded in Urban myth long before I arrived in Canberra. Everything from hauntings, mysterious overnight emptying of the lake, disappearances and links to another lake in another country. Just the kind of stuff mythbusters would love to get their teeth into.
With this new intelligence, we set off up the hills and past the massive wind turbines that line the hills all down the side of the lake. We stopped under one of 67 turbines just to feel dwarfed. We looked straight up under the 44 metre blades whooshing past every 5 seconds, like the dudes on Wayne's World laying on the bonnet under the flight-path of commercial airlines...WHOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAA!!!!! !!
We drove across several cattle grids and through some gates until we came to what we considered to be a safe enough distance from the water without the risk of getting bogged. I set up some glow-sticks on the aerial of the car and staked in another at the water's edge as we dragged our kayaks down the hill and into the water. These would serve to guide us home by lining them up from way out in the water.
Stepping into the water with boots on, it was a competition to see who's boots filled with water first. I won. Mine lasted around 600 metres! The water went from 1cm deep on the edge, to about ankle deep at 1.3 kilometres from the edge. Dragging the kayaks through the mud on a rope, it was precarious at best trying not to slip in the greasy mud and occasional hole left from cattle hooves. We managed to get into position without getting wet. I belted a star-picket into the mud and we tied off to it as the kayaks were now just off the bottom and floating. Then it was time for boots off and relax while the sun set and the moon rose.
As the temperature dropped, we added layers, had a bit of tucker and took photos with the camera tripod firmly embedded into the mud.
Finally, when we had enough, we donned our wet socks and boots again and started the journey across the water to our waiting car with a very welcome floor-heater.
Here's a video of us dragging our sorry butts across the water...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jBamu...ature=youtu.be
