Nothing Is Ever Simple With Us

We are starting to get into a bit of a routine when we arrive somewhere and set up camp.

Well...

If you can call what we do a routine.

We know roughly who does what, where things go and the general order everything happens in.

So when we arrived and started setting up, we were happily going through the motions when everything suddenly came to a halt.

One of the front stabilisers had broken a pin.

Another bloody pin.

Seriously, what sort of crap did they use when they built this van?

Luckily, thanks to our recent let's-buy-every-spare-known-to-man shopping expedition, we actually had spares.

Look at us!

Prepared travellers!

This should be easy.

😂

Col versus the stabiliser

Now, I knew how to replace the pin because Rob and I had replaced the previous one that broke.

And, importantly, Col actually asked me how to do it.

So there we were in the middle of the day.

It was hot.

Col was under Maximus.

He had the new pin.

He had his hammer.

He had the cogs.

He had plenty of grease.

And absolutely none of those things wanted to come together in the manner they were supposed to.

Cog in place.

Bolt in.

Pin lined up.

Hammer cocked.

BANG.

Nope.

More adjusting.

BANG.

Nope.

Sweating.

Swearing.

Frustration levels rising.

Luckily Maximus sits reasonably high off the ground because by this stage Col was sitting underneath him trying to get himself into a better position.

Meanwhile I'm trying to shield the sun from Col's face while simultaneously thinking of a way we can bodge the bloody thing up long enough to get out of the heat.

BANG.

More swearing.

Finally I suggested:

“Why don't we just put a thinner pin through it for now so we can get out of the heat and we'll do it properly when it cools down?”

Excellent.

Temporary solution.

We'll fix it properly later.

That was four days ago.

The temporary pin is still there.

And funnily enough...

It's still working perfectly.

😂

Cheech versus a duck

While we were at Texas, we'd been taking the dogs for walks along and through the Dumaresq River.

It was beautiful.

The water was clear, the river was low enough to walk through in places and it was just a lovely spot to wander with the dogs.

On one of our walks we came to a fence.

We could see some cows further ahead, so naturally assumed we'd wandered onto someone's farm.

Did that stop us?

Well...

We weren't going to hurt anything.

So we kept walking.

This turned out to be an excellent decision.

Until Cheech found the ducks.

Cheech was up ahead doing what Cheech does — sniffing everything, surveying his kingdom and generally making sure it was safe for the rest of us to proceed.

Suddenly a duck started flapping around.

Cheech had stumbled across a parent duck and its babies.

The babies scattered.

Parent duck went into full SAVE THE CHILDREN mode.

It started doing that clever duck thing where it pretends to have a broken wing to draw the predator away from the babies.

Unfortunately for the duck, its predator was a Chihuahua.

And Cheech thought this was fantastic.

Off went the duck.

Off went Cheech.

The duck headed into the river.

So did Cheech.

At first he was running through the water.

Then it got deeper.

His little legs stopped touching the bottom.

Suddenly...

Cheech was swimming.

😂

This was all going beautifully until he realised he'd actually gone quite a long way from shore.

Then there was a moment of:

Oh shit.

A bit of frantic splashing followed before he managed to turn himself around and make it back to the edge.

Parent duck had successfully done its job.

Babies were safely hidden.

I was scrambling to get hold of the bloody dog before he caused any more havoc.

Probably time to leave the farmer's property.

Wal versus the prickles

We headed back along the water's edge.

Birds chirping.

Traffic going over the bridge.

Peace restored.

Then Wal started walking funny.

He'd kick one of his back legs out behind him.

Little yelp.

Kick again.

We grabbed him and found some nasty prickles stuck in his back paw.

Got them out.

Excellent.

Crisis averted.

Except apparently not.

We kept walking and Wal started doing it again.

Only now he wouldn't let us near him.

His back leg appeared to have developed a mind of its own.

Kick.

Drag.

Sit down.

Chew at foot.

Jump up.

Into the water.

Out of the water.

Sit on his bum.

Chew again.

Kick.

Drag.

At one point he looked like he was having some sort of bloody fit.

And every time we'd get close enough to try to help him...

off he'd go.

This continued pretty much the entire walk back.

Then Cheech discovered zoomies

We eventually got back to the part of the river we'd crossed earlier.

On the way down, Col had carried Cheech across.

Apparently Cheech had decided this was no longer necessary.

Before we could do anything, he launched himself into the water and swam across.

Well!

Look at him go.

He made it to the other side...

...and then the zoomies hit.

Sand.

Mud.

Water.

More sand.

More mud.

Full Chihuahua lunatic mode.

By the time he'd finished, he was absolutely filthy.

This is a dog that sleeps on our bed.

There was no bloody way he was coming into Maximus looking like that.

😂

The road from hell

Then it was time to move on.

The road from Yetman to Warialda was sealed.

Great!

Except...

HOLY MOLY IT WAS ROUGH.

Numerous times it felt like we were about to launch into space.

Then we'd hit another section and I'd become convinced the back end of Shaun was going to snap clean off and half the Ram and all of Maximus would go trundling down the road past us.

When you're towing a caravan on a road like that, there's always one thought sitting in the back of your mind:

Did we secure everything properly?

Because inevitably the roughest road you encounter will be the exact day you've forgotten to lock a cupboard.

Or left something on the bench.

Or forgotten to put something away.

Which means opening Maximus after a road like that is always done with a certain amount of trepidation.

The toothbrush

There is, however, one enormous advantage to towing your house behind you.

Your toilet travels with you.

I needed to pee.

So we pulled over.

I approached the Maximus door cautiously.

What awaited me inside?

Cupboards open?

Food everywhere?

Something smashed?

I opened the door.

Huh.

Everything looked pretty good.

Look at me!

I'd secured everything beautifully.

Then I saw it.

A toothbrush.

On the floor.

And another toothbrush...

sitting on top of the toilet lid.

I cannot adequately express how thankful I was at that moment that the toilet lid was down.

And clearly...

that one was Col's toothbrush.

🤣🤣

Welcome to Bingara

Eventually we arrived at Bingara.

Now, when choosing a campsite, Col and I like to get the best possible spot.

We don't just pull in anywhere.

Oh no.

The van needs to be positioned just so.

We want the view.

We want the right direction.

We want the right alignment.

You won't see us sitting all cockeyed facing the wrong way.

We take this shit seriously.

So when we reached the dirt track leading towards the river, we did something remarkably sensible.

We stopped Maximus at the top.

We weren't sure what the track was like further down and, perhaps, after everything that's happened to us...

we're learning.

We walked down with the dogs to investigate.

Not far along we found it.

Our spot.

Right on the water's edge.

Beautiful.

We were standing there admiring it when another car towing a caravan came down the track.

They drove past Maximus.

Then they started pulling into...

OUR SPOT.

Oh, no no no.

😂

I quickly walked over and practically stood in front of their car.

“Sorry! We're just going to get our car and van. That's ours back up there — we walked down first to make sure we could get in here.”

They looked at me.

Then at each other.

And thankfully both smiled.

No worries.

They'd keep going and find another spot.

Absolute legends.

“Quick, Col. GO!”

Col headed back for Maximus.

I stayed behind with the dogs.

Nobody was getting this bloody campsite now.

And then we moved it. And moved it again.

Col brought Maximus down the track without any problems.

Excellent.

Then began our usual campsite dance.

Forward.

Back.

Little bit left.

No, too far.

Forward again.

Maybe turn it slightly.

What about over there?

No.

Back.

Stop.

Actually...

Maybe...

Eventually we got Maximus into position.

Then we unhitch.

And decide we should probably go for a drive further along the river...

just in case there's an even better spot.

🤣

We didn't get far.

There were more vans further along and nothing that made us want to move.

Bugger it.

Our spot was great.

Back we went.

Hitched Maximus up again.

Moved him around a little more.

Back.

Forward.

Little bit over.

Yep.

Perfect.

We finally agreed we'd nailed it.

And do you know where Maximus ended up?

Basically in the same bloody spot Col had put him when he first came down the track.

All that carry-on achieved virtually nothing.

But at least we knew.

😂

This is the life

Once we were finally settled, it was beautiful.

Awning out.

Warm afternoon.

River right in front of us.

Time for a swim.

Bloody hell.

The water was freezing.

According to Col, certain parts of his anatomy completely disappeared in search of warmth.

😂

But the afternoon was beautiful.

The dogs were happy.

We were happy.

We lit the fire and got the camp oven going.

Lamb shanks and veggies.

Food cooking.

Chairs out.

Sitting beside the river watching the world go by.

This is the life.

Then we noticed the clouds.

Here we go...

There were some unusual-looking clouds coming over the ridge.

We sat watching them.

Then, in the distance, we could see the trees moving.

The strange part was we could actually hear the wind coming before it reached us.

The trees were blowing further away.

Then closer.

Closer.

And suddenly...

WHACK.

It was on us.

The wind was howling.

Our awning started flapping.

We could see rain falling in the distance.

Then lightning.

Excellent.

I'd only just put the TV outside so we could watch the news while sitting beside the fire waiting for dinner.

Of course I had.

We looked at each other.

Probably should put the awning away.

GO GO GO!

Suddenly our peaceful riverside afternoon became a military operation.

One of us had to hold onto the awning while the other started stripping everything off it.

Sparkly lights.

Down.

Guy ropes.

Off.

Things moved.

Awning flapping like all get-out.

Col hanging onto the bloody thing.

Wind getting stronger.

Lightning getting closer.

Now we're getting the occasional spit of rain.

Then I remembered.

THE CAMP OVEN!

Our lamb shanks!

Were we about to end up with half-cooked dinner?

Was the rain going to put the fire out?

Priorities.

🤣

Finally we got the awning rolled away.

TV back inside.

Windows partly closed.

Everything loose either into Maximus or shoved somewhere safe underneath.

My camp chair ended up folded on the table.

The little sparkly lights were still wrapped around it and, because it had become dark enough...

they switched themselves on.

So amongst all the chaos we now had a lovely blinking decorative camp chair lying on the table.

Beautiful.

Wal knew what was coming

Wal is a pretty chill dog most of the time.

There is one thing he absolutely does not like.

Thunderstorms.

We hadn't actually heard thunder yet, but with the wind, lightning and all of us running around like lunatics, Wal had already decided this situation was shit.

He'd bunkered down underneath Maximus.

The look on his face said there was literally nowhere else in the world he'd rather be less than right here.

Time to bring him inside.

He'd barely got into Maximus when—

BOOM.

First big clap of thunder.

Wal glued himself to me.

He couldn't have sat any closer unless he'd actually climbed on top of me.

Cheech?

Completely oblivious.

Of course he was.

This is the same dog who'd spent the previous day chasing a duck into a river.

And then...

After all that rushing around...

All that wind...

All that lightning...

All that panic about the camp oven...

Do you know how much rain actually fell on us?

Basically none.

😂

The fire survived.

The lamb shanks cooked.

Dinner was beautiful.

And not long afterwards...

the stars came out.

We sat there, fed and dry, Maximus still in one piece, Wal recovering from his ordeal and Cheech presumably wondering when we were going duck hunting again.

None of it was in the plan.

But we're happy.

We're healthy.

We've got each other.

And somehow, amongst all the little dramas, ridiculous moments and things that never quite go the way we expect...

this is exactly where we want to be.

All is good in the world of Wobs n Taz. ❤️