It’s that time of year again. Spring has sprung, and Perth’s bushwalkers will be dusting off their boots and venturing outdoors again. Multitudes will soon start hiking the Bibbulmun Track, and I’ll be scratching my head, wondering why.

I love hiking the Bibbulmun Track too, but for me winter is the obvious season to do it. The weather is cool enough to do some serious walking without frying or drowning in sweat. Campsite rainwater tanks abound with fresh clean water. Little water needs to be carried because it is so readily available near much of the track. Venomous snakes are nowhere to be seen, mosquitoes are minimal, and flies … what flies?

With the track also bare of humans, the shelters along the track are never full, so the tent can be left at home. There is room to spread out, never a queue for the pit toilets, and no competition for space at the picnic tables. Then there’s the refreshing peace and quiet. Many find that the solitude of winter raises their enjoyment of the natural environment to a higher level - there’s nothing like having an entire national park all to yourself.

Why then do most people avoid hiking until spring? It might make sense in a cold climate, but we don’t have a cold climate. People speak of spring’s warmth, but that only increases sweating and the need to carry more water. It rains less, but with the influx of walkers that leads to water tanks running low, and the water becoming less than fresh. Snakes - all of them venomous - become active, mosquitoes worsen, and flies return to drive walkers mad. Wildflowers flourish - pretty, but no fun for hay fever and allergy sufferers. Crowds on the track diminish the sense of wilderness, and it becomes necessary to carry a tent in case the shelters are full. Even if they’re not, competition for space - and use of the toilet - can detract from the experience.

As I put away my hiking boots (figuratively speaking) until next winter, people who put their boots away for the winter are getting them out. It’s a sort of changing of the guard, like the winter shift going off duty as the spring shift clocks on.

It doesn’t make much sense to me, but it suits me just fine. The spring crowds are happy to hike in the warm weather, and I’m happy to let them, enjoying peace and quiet in the cool comfort of winter. It reminds me just how different we all are, and how well this can work out.

I’ve always enjoyed drinking good coffee, and trying to get the best from my espresso machine. However, I’ve recently climbed to new heights of coffee snobbery, becoming a signed up member of the CoffeeSnobs website, and started roasting my own beans at home.

Roasting green (raw) coffee beans is a lot easier and more accessible than you might think. The photo here shows the simplicity of my beginners setup. Sitting on a crate is the main tool - a popcorn popper - with the addition of a soup tin chimney so the beans don’t pop out. Near it are a metal sieve and colander (for cooling the beans after roasting), oven gloves (the popper gets very hot!), a clock for timing the process, and some green beans in plastic bags. The crate is not necessary, but is handy for ventilation under the popper and for storing the stuff in. The only part I didn’t already have was the popper - costing only $20, this wasn’t much of a barrier to home roasting.

I won’t go into detail about the process, which is described very well in “A beginners guide to roasting using a popper” on the CoffeeSnobs website. Generally less than 8 minutes plus cooling time is all it takes, and a wonderful aroma wafts far and wide. A lot of chaff and some smoke also wafts far and wide, which is why it’s best done outdoors.

Easy, right? Yes … well sort-of. Roasting beans is easy, but getting them to taste their best takes practice. The optimum degree of roasting varies with the individual popper, the ambient temperature and humidity, the amount of beans used, and personal taste. Different beans will also prefer different roasts, varying according to country, plantation, and crop. You’ll need to try different roast times, compare results, and make notes for future reference - lots of trial and error. Yes, there will be errors! But with green beans costing as little as one third or one quarter of the price of commercially roasted coffee, a lot of money can be saved, even with a few mistakes.

For me this chance to experiment is part of the fun. It’s only a matter of time before I add a thermometer to the setup, and some method of slowing the speed of the roast to improve flavour development - all of which appeals to those like me who have scientific curiosity and do-it-yourself urges.

Why do it, other than the satisfaction? Because using freshly roasted beans at their flavour peak, ground using a decent grinder just before brewing, has the potential to make truly fantastic coffee … better than that found in most cafes, if all variables come together. The quest to reach this potential is why many coffee snobs roast beans at home. Even when the coffee isn’t as good as it could be, it’s still pretty good, and cheaper. I can think of worse things to be than a coffee snob!