(Home of the Ballarat Goats)
The last weekend before the intrepid Trip’s Trip! We managed to plan AND EXECUTE a two night away from home training camp at Apollo Bay with accommodation courtesy of the Tantau boardinghouse.
Actually, it wasn’t a full execution… the Schultz couldn’t make it, the Zulics could only do one night and the Philips would arrive late on the first night but… HEY! This is the GOATS man!!!
The Tants were due to pick up the Websters at 9am but Chester threw a Chucky and called to announce they would be late. This sent the Websters into relaxation mode such that they were nowhere near ready when the Tants finally did show up and the ensuing exodus from Ballarat was a shambles… particularly because, in all the excitement, Biro FORGOT HIS GPS UNIT!!! (Very handy tool that!). As a direct result, the Trip is doomed to never know the true height of the Mariner’s Lookout! More of that later.
Having arrived at AB the Nannies went shopping while the Billies went golfing. I always think that the worst thing about a twosome in golf is that there is only one loser so it becomes a lonesome position. Solely for the sake of completeness in these chronicles it is worth recording that Chester was NOT the winner.
In a desperate attempt to win something Chester came up with the idea that he and Biro should cook their own recipe hamburgers at the Trip barbeque the following night. There would be a “burger-off” with voting from the herd to decide the victor. The boys retired to the kitchen to prepare their, individual recipe, burger mince.
Earlier in the day, with much excitement, Marilyn had distributed the LED head torches that the Webster Kid – James had purchased in Japan. With darkness falling the billy goats decided that they would cook using headlights rather than wastefully switch the ceiling lights on! So it was that Thong entered a pitch black kitchen to find two Goats chopping and cooking to the eerie light of headlamps. It’s got to be said that she was taken aback and fully expected a couple of frozen chooks to be involved in proceedings. A frightening foretaste of what could befall an unsuspecting nanny-goat walking, unannounced, into the billy-goat dormitory at base camp #1.
After a pleasant tea at the pub the Websters and Tantaus settled into a cozy game of ‘Boolup’ fully expecting the Philips to be fashionably late. How joyous then when a knock at the door signaled that, not only had they avoided tardiness, Chuck and Neil were actually EARLY!!?. They had also brought along a couple of Kids to join the herd… George and her friend Pippa.
The usual Goat greeting… BUNTING and DOOINA-GREG… then we eagerly donned our headlamps to initiate the first ever Goat-Night Walk. I’ve got to say this was brilliant. The Kids were running off to splash in the waves while the old goats trudged through the moon-lit sand. The beams from their head lights danced over the dunes after first highlighting the wearer’s breath condensing in the chill of the night air. Far away, the bright lights from the ships in the harbor seemed to be reflected in a distant overhead mirror as we gazed upon the myriad of stars from the heavens. “Richard… if you try to jump off that pier you’re DEAD MEAT!!” yelled Thong as she (correctly) interpreted Chester’s positioning as a preamble to yet another stupid act of recklessness.
Back to the house and the glory of stepping into the cocoon of wood-stove heat from the icy chill of the winter night. We sat around the fire, absorbing it’s warmth as we exchanged gossip. I recall we also enjoyed a glass of wine.
The following morning saw the Zulics arrive bright and early and ready for action. The sky was clear overhead but threatening to the north. We would need our wet weather gear for the grueling trek up to the Mariner’s lookout (height unknown). (…but high!). (…and height unlikely to ever be known because Biro forgot his GPS!). (Very handy tool that.)
Tonto was looking very fetching in his Dr Who scarf, Grampa Simson hat and (just purchased) BLACK RUBBER jacket. Rumor has it he also bought the matching BLACK RUBBER shorts but is saving these for the boy’s night in the Base Camp #1 dormitory.
The climb up to Mariner’s lookout was… steep.
There was plenty of puffing and blowing and cursing and swearing. Chester was wearing his knee supports with the magnetic inserts. He’d set the polarity of the magnets such that the opposite poles were aligned. As a result his knees smacked against each other as his legs crossed and, on occasion, locked together such that he was forced to adopt the mincing gait of a ponce with diarrhea.
Ultimately we reached the top and very worth while it was too with stupendous views of the southern coastline and a stunning vista of the whole of Apollo Bay.
On our descent it started to rain. As the spots hit Tonto’s BLACK RUBBER jacket, the jacket developed spots! It was as if it had caught measles. I’m not sure yet of it’s significance, but the combination of BLACK RUBBER Measles and LED Headlamps could result in little sleep for the Billy Goats at Base Camp #1.
After the walk Tonto had a craving for a cooked breakfast. It was after 12 noon so we had to scout the restaurants to find one that served breakfast all day. On the sixth attempt we came up trumps. Bacon and eggs was available but the service was a bit slow and it seemed to be the slowest for Tonto. He was going mad with hunger as each dish was passed in front of his eyes but his never came. Everyone felt obliged to offer Tont a taste of their food but we resisted as it was so entertaining to watch him suffer.
That afternoon we festered as the weather drew in and made the planned 7km walk along the beach from Fynes Creek to Apollo Bay look decidedly unlikely. We whiled away the time debating handles for those Goats who remained un-christened… Joy, Marilyn and Neil.
We debated STRETCH for Joy given her role as post walk exercise coordinator. Or JET from the travel bookings. In truth, neither of these are too exciting. Perhaps we could develop JET to be JETBLACK or SOOTY?
The debate on Marilyn’s handle centered around her giving Bing a Glasgow Kiss the previous Saturday night. BUNT or BUNTY? Work continues.
Neil’s handle started out as QUACK given his medical bent. This progressed to DUCK which aligns neatly with his spouse’s handle. In fact, P. Chuck was kind enough to enlighten us on Duck’s alter ego when she referred to him as ATILLA after he (somewhat forcefully) suggested a course of action for P. Chuck. That lead us to issue Neil’s full handle ATILLA THE GRUMPY DUCK or Duck for short.
A break in the weather saw us dive for the cars and off to Fynes Creek. By the time we got there the heavens had opened and there was no possibility of completing the walk without scuba diving gear.
The rain was so fierce that we had to communicate between the two cars via mobile phone since we would have drowned if we’d opened a window.
While we waited for the storm to pass we played I-Spy in our vehicle. Chester won. It’s nice to see him win something now and then.
At the first sign of a break in the weather we set off on our trek. Quickly the herd stretched out into a long file. Marilyn and Joy were striding out in front chatting happily but the rest of us were strung out wildly behind, each in our own space as we walked betwixt the rolling thunder of the waves to the left and the lightning and thunder in the sky to the right. In our solitude we each pondered the infinity of space and time, the very meaning of life and our place within it and why the f#$@ing hell we were out walking on such a cold, wet and miserable day like today when we could be back at home in front of the fire enjoying a soothing sherbet. Oh sweet mysteries of life.
It was even better to get back to the warmth of the house. The billy-goats set about fixing up the barbeque. You can pretty much guarantee a fairly ordinary meal if a male cooks it on a barbeque but when four males attempt to do it as a team…
The problem is that everyone wants to be involved so that just about excludes any control. It didn’t matter. The herd was starving hungry and would eat anything. The main thing was the billies had a great time cooking it. The weather was really turning nasty now so we had to cook in the garage. The guys were quite excited since we couldn’t find the light switch so we fully expected to have to cook by the light of our headlamps. Tonto ran off to find his BLACK RUBBER shorts so as to amplify the experience but was called back when Chester ruined the whole ambience by switching on the lights.
We still had a good time though. The heavens opened and we were treated to several severe hail storms which drummed heavily against the tin roof and created an atmosphere of protected danger.
After dinner we began the party games. I’ll do my best to describe them but I think we should wait for the video!! Suffice it to say I awoke with cramps from laughing.
We kicked off with a game of ‘Dambusters’ which requires competitors to stick a 20c coin (the bomb) up their arse (the bomb-bay), contort their hands about their face (the goggles) and adopt the mincing gait of a ponce with diarrhea in order to deliver the bomb to the target. All to the tune of the Dambuster’s theme. This was manna for Chester. At last he had a competition he could win. He quickly and secretly installed his magnets with reverse polarity so as to ensure the mincing gait of a ponce with diarrhea and hence win the game hands down.
Then we played “Spoons” which, given the competitiveness of some of the herd (who shall remain nameless)… (Chester), resulted in ATILLA THE GRUMPY DUCK receiving a nasty gash to the hand. The smell of blood spurred a sudden increase of competitiveness which caused the nannies to retire from competition and the billies to go wild.
Then we played “Big Booty” – which I didn’t understand.
Then we played “Fizz-Buzz” – which nobody understood.
Then we went to bed.
Then we woke up.
Then we cleaned up and set off home stopping only to walk to Sabine Falls.
This was a 4 Km walk with a large change in altitude. Expect 2.5 hours return. I’m pleased to report we polished it off in 1 hour and 5 minutes… a true reflection on our fitness and something to give us confidence in the task ahead.
By now Chester was getting a little sick of the magnets in his knee braces forcing him to adopt the mincing gait of a ponce with diarrhea so he changed the polarity of the magnets. Unfortunately this pushed his knees apart so that, as he tripped down the path to the falls, he looked more like John Wayne wearing an incontinence nappy.
The day was damp and we were walking through forest. There were those in the party who were preoccupied with LEECHES and it wasn’t only P. Chuck.
On the steep ascent back from the falls, Biro strode out alone to check a theory of his that it’s better to do short hard bursts with long rests in between than to plod on at a slow pace. For those of you who watch the TV program “Myth Busters” I can safely report… Myth busted!! Biro was shagged!!
However, you’ve got to feel good about the overall performance of the herd. We walked in adverse conditions and easily covered terrain that would have presented quite a problem to us only weeks ago. It’s not a walk in the park but the Trip is clearly ready for the task ahead… GO GOATS GO!
Biro
CC4 supplement.
Too much wine and too little sleep caused me to omit possibly the most important event of the AB weekend.
Despite the Billy Goats entering into a solemn and binding contract to grow goatie beards for the holiday, Biro was distressed to find Chester sporting a TOTALLY BALD chin when the Tantau’s arrived on Friday morning.
Imagine his distress when Duck and finally Tonto arrived with similarly naked mentums. Thank God Bing took the concord seriously.
Bing… you DID grow your goatie didn’t you???