When the Skipper and I first became ‘us’, the Skipper had a second job.
He was a trainer with a 4 WD company, running driver training weekends for 4 WD skills.
Things like mud driving, sand driving, winching, safe bush travel. Things like towing a bogged vehicle safely, getting out of tricky situations, assessing the lie of the land/sand/mud/tide/bush before entering. That type of thing.
He abhorred ‘hoons’ and people who bash the bush, rip up trees and tracks, canivorise the open spaces and spoiling it for others by being – well, a dickhead.
In the 25 years I have known him, and the 15 years we have been together, he has never once been bogged. We have towed and assisted countless others, including 2 RAC tow vehicles and a Pilot vehicle.
So it was of minor – OK, not so minor – amusement to me when the Skipper, in reversing the camper trailer into a clearing down at Sundown National Park, fell afoul to his own preachings.
First he did this.
Which usually would not have been so bad, except that it has rained and rained (and rained and rained) here for days on end.
So there was a lot of this.
There was also a lot of this.
Finally, in the dark of night, we manually unhitched the camper trailer and pushed it to high ground.
2 days later, he had the grace common sense to give in.
Given we were completely isolated, TFM and I hiked a mountain (well, OK, bloody large hill) and found a spot where we could get mobile phone reception.
The RACQ offroad team were lovely guys.
Knee deep in mud, there was much more of this.
and finally, after 3 days of being semi-submerged and 3 hours of RACQ assistance, mother earth decided that the Skipper had eaten enough humble pie and set him free.
True to his word, he spent a few hours a day over the next few days ‘restoring’ the hole.
In fact, it took just long enough for me to read the entire ‘Oprah’ Biography by Kitty Kelly.
Am I a bad Rhubarb for admitting – I am still chuckling?