Here in Gladstone we live in the shadow of what must be the worlds’ biggest giant; fortunately, he spends most of his time asleep.
Mt. Larcom is locally known as The Sleeping Giant, and recently I was surprised when someone asked me why it’s called that. Once I realised they weren’t joking, I traced the outline of the slumbering colossus with my finger, from his massive pillow, stony brow, beard, chest and blanket covered feet.
When I first saw Mt. Larcom as a lad, I actually wondered if it was the petrified remains of the giant from Jack and the Beanstalk. In my overactive young mind I knew it was only a matter of time before the Giant awoke, shook off his blanket of dirt and trees, then strode into town to kick down the powerhouse stacks.
Well, don’t say you weren’t warned…
Anyway, like most locals, I’ve climbed the Giant, stood atop his beard and waved at Gladstone before signing the Visitors’ Book (yep, there’s one up there). Now, tradition decrees that you must clamber up it at some ungodly pre-dawn hour to watch the sunrise, but I’ve done that twice and both times got lost.
Frankly, it’s much better to do what the Giant does; enjoy a very long, and rather solid, sleep in first, then go for a stroll.
And if you’re keen, then this is the best time of year to clamber up Mt. Larcoms’ stony chin. Just don’t wake me, or him, when you do.