Road Trip 2009

So the world was turned upside down due to the outbreak of Covid-19. Changing the way we are all living our lives. For me, I'm in that situation where I'm still an 'essential' worker (for the time being) so still working every day. Which is both a blessing and a curse. On the curse end I am going to work 5 days a week, in a building where everyone else is either working from home, or on 'special leave', which is lonely, weird and a grind to make it through the day as I continue to work. On the bright side of that I am very lucky to still have a job, and be getting an income which, with a mortgage to pay is a huge relief.

However with the quarantine rules and self isolating many of us are doing (though I know there are people still out hiking), I decided that I would instead turn my focus to the past, much like I have done with my Euro-Trip and Kiama Coastal blogs. But instead looking back much further to 2009, after I had finished my final year of High School, and my friend group failed to organise the famed 'schoolies trip', so I instead went on a road-trip with my Dad. The idea had occurred to me before but I got my heart set on it on my brief stint as a train driver. I was also semi influenced to write it because during that time I had been reading through the works of Jack Kerouac. However, thinking back to 2009, a time before I even had a smart phone but instead owned a Nokia, and so basically have no pictures to use as a paper trail (though I can remember some things, many I forgot, and order of events was definitely one of them).

However on the Easter long weekend I decided to sort through many boxes that had been packed while I was on my trip to Europe, and had been kicked out of home. So 5 years later, actually owning a home I decided to go through them and was able to find my Learner Logbook, for on our road trip I had got my L Plates and was learning to drive a car.

However, I knew this didn't detail all the places we had been to as I could remember many more, so while tracing down our journey through Google Maps I realised this log book itself was deceitful. Hume Weir to Walwa was in fact at the end of these destinations. But also where the ones belonging at the start, as I had actually passed my L's test in the Albury side of Albury-Wondonga. While I had indeed driven the rest I had done so prior to actually receiving my L Plates as Dad was adamant I learn to drive. But I guess I will do my best to recall the journey.

My Dad had previously taken my oldest brother out on a similar road trip when he finished year 12, and I think he had similar destination plans on where to go with me, however we ended up also going to completely new spots. We first went towards the Blue Mountains to stay in Katoomba. We made our way past 'The Explorer's Tree' a little piece of Australian History, my Dad told me about as we drove. He told me that 3 explorers (William Lawson, Gregory Blaxland and William Charles Wentworth) who first successfully crossed the Blue Mountains had left it marked.

I recall driving down winding roads, through deep rainforest to where we ended up pitching out tent to sleep. Just in the scrub a little way in from the road. During our time here we went and saw the Three Sisters. We also began (but did not walk all over) The Giant Stairway, which is 998 steps cut into the side of a cliff leading down from the Three Sisters. I remember wearing jeans and being pretty unfit at the time, and to be honest at that time and place, I hadn't really wanted to be out on a road trip with Dad. I had just finished High School, and was wanting to be partying with friends, and was trying to court a girl who I had a pretty flirtatious relationship with. Looking back on my trip, I regret my mind set a lot, as I feel I wasted a lot of time worrying about missing out on things instead of enjoying where I was in life. Now stuck working all the time I would love to just head out on an adventurous road trip with my Dad. But I get that's the difference between being 18 and being 28.

I don't know exactly how long we spent in that camping spot, but we also visited and went on the scenic railway, which, at the time, was the steepest incline railway in the world. We were seated near a group of old American ladies, and I distinctively remember finding it amusing, with my juvenile mild, how the pronounced the city of 'Melbourne'.

From Katoomba we moved on to Lithgow to a new camping spot. My one memory of being here was going to a railway museum and riding along the ZigZag Railway, I remember having one arm resting up on window and having one patch of it get pretty badly sunburnt.

From here we made out way to Glen Davis, which my Dad was enthralled by. Constantly repeating how it was the largest canyon in the world, even bigger than the grand canyon. I remember being sweltering. It was ridiculously hot, and our tent wasn't too far from a public bathroom with a shower. I remember constantly leaving the tent to just shower. This was mostly due to the heat, but partially due to frequent masturbation trips. Again, I stress, I was 18. While Dad explored a nearby tip or old quarry or something that he said was infested with Snakes.

The next stop I remember, is camping at a really nice spot next to a river in Wellington and going to the local pub with Dad and having a few beers. (From here on out my Dad loved stopping in at local pubs for some beers).

We made our way to Nyngan, passing through Dubbo and stopping there at a diner for a burger. We continued along a back road (as we often took as while I was driving without a license). We passed through Warren, stopping at a local weir for a bite to eat (noting how nice the spot would have been if it had not been trashed with smashed beer bottles). As I sat in the car drinking a longneck beer, two local Aboriginal men arrived and began chatting to my Dad (who is a renowned talker), and I sat in the car getting angrier and angrier needing release, as the longneck had passed through me and I felt like I was going to die if I didn't pee. While my Dad talked to them he soon realised some of the mess had been left by these two men, as they eventually left, I slid out the car door, facing towards the car and finally peed, being in absolute agony.

We arrived at Nyngan at a campground where we backed onto a river. I remember people jet skiing and boating in it, and actually found the spot so different to the part of Australia I live in. We ate at Nyngan Bowling Club were we had Chinese food while we watched the locals use the swimming pool. As we sat in the empty club the lady who worked asked if we wanted to order before it got busy. Dad and I eyed each other in the completely empty club, finding the concept of it getting busy at lunch ludicrous.

I remember stopping at Cobar and having a look at the Miner's Heritage Park. I remember I didn't wear shoes and got massive burs stuck in my feet as I ran from the park to the car. I don't recall if we stayed in Cobar or just stopped on our way through to Louth. I had started driving my Dad's manual ute around this point, as the long roads and lack of gear changes made it easier for me to just focus on the driving aspect. We set up camp of the road again, right next to the Darling River. We went into town to the local pub for some beers. At the time I was growing my hair long as I hoped to have hair like a 'metal head', it hadn't worked out like that and was super shaggy. A local Aboriginal man named Bruce was was at the bar wanted to give me a haircut and offered to take me out the back and cut it with sheep shearers. I politely declined.
There were local showers that used water straight from the river, with warnings not to drink any of it though. I remember laying in bed that night while my Dad was asleep and using his phone to privately message the girl I mentioned earlier, and of course the messages where pretty flirtatious, if not a bit sexual (these sorts of ones I deleted from his phone so as not to be read), and only made me resent my trip even more.

As I drove from here through to Tilpa, and I believe there was a fork in the road and my Dad wanted to stop at a pub that was a little tin shack. I really didn't want to and turned the ute down the other path, not breaking or changing down gears as I turned as everything flew to one side of the car.

We passed through Wilcannia, whether we stopped or stayed there neither of us can recall, but from there we made our way to White Cliffs, as I wanted to go there in order to see an Opalised Dinosaur fossil they had found. It was apparently meant to be one of the hottest places in NSW, and as Dad tried to find a shady spot for us to pitch the tent he soon found only one location with a tiny tree with barely any leaves and we ended up staying at an Underground Hotel, because even my semi frugal father couldn't bare the thought of camping out in that heat.

We went to a local pub that night for a beer and a truckie (truck driver for you non-Australian's) came in after food. They microwaved him some prepackaged thing which I think ended up having a bit of melted plastic in it. I remember him saying he'd just eat it anyway and hope it wouldn't give him gastro. We went back to our underground hotel that I was excited to sleep in (I had wanted to back in 2001 when Dad took myself and my 3 brothers on another road trip that included Uluru, at Coober Pedy but we didn't end up staying in it). I remember it being a super relaxing sleep until early in the morning I was woke up by someone's children loudly running and yelling through the hallways.
We spent the next day lounging around in the pool.

We made our way back to Wilcannia and tried to continue out to Broken Hill, however we were hit by a pretty severe dust storm and couldn't see a thing. We ended up changed our journey and heading south where we went through Ivanhoe and Hay and somehow ended up in Albury/Wodonga. Everything in between these locations is lost. I remember stopped at a pub at one point owned by a Scottish couple, which I thought would be cool until they started going on racist diatribes about Aboriginal people. I also recall stopping in somewhere else (for the life of me I can't remember what for) and the man was pretty unfriendly until he got a pizza delivered and his eyes-widened and he became more friendly as he chowed down. (Forgetting things like this served as one of the reasons for me initially starting this blog)

I had failed my L's test twice prior to heading out on the road trip (I had passed the online test 100% every time and couldn't figure out where I was going wrong) so along the trip Dad was adamant I spend time reading over a Driving Handbook. By the time we arrived in Albury I was ready to sit the test having read through it a few times. Dad asked if I want to do it in Albury for a NSW license or in Wodonga, for a Victorian one. I chose Albury. We stayed here for a few nights and I remember being glad for a little civilisation. I went to a local movie theatre twice. Watching Paranormal Activity which I found completely disappointing, I also went to see Where the Wild Things Are, as I loved the book when I was a young boy in Primary School. I also found it disappointing.

I eventually sat for my L's and this time succeeded in passing.

Oh God it's hideous

From here we actually reach the start of my learner log book. Where we had a look at Hume Weir and made our way to Walwa.... apparently? Again, 2009, long time ago. Our next recollected location was at Charlotte's Pass. A spot I remember very clearly. We camped with the intention to walk to the top of Mount Kosciuszko. I remember there was a group of young girls, the only other people in the camp ground at night, and I my Dad went over to talk to them. I told him not to but he went anyway. They were older than I was then. Maybe their early 20's anyway I Dad ended up having a good chat with them, (I was really worried he'd scare them popping up randomly at their camp site and didn't want him to be a creep). It was absolutely freezing there, even in Summer. I ended up chucking a pair of my Dad's overalls on, on top of my clothes. We cooked up canned Spam, ate black licorice and drank many beers around the fire. The next morning we both had a bit of gastrointestinal distress. I had found a nice tree branch the was firm and went horizontal, just up from the ground. As I made myself comfortable I realised that I had not grabbed toilet paper. As I went to grab some I came back and Dad had stolen my spot.
I could barely contain it as I frantically searched for a location, eventually finding a lone standing upright rock in the middle of the valley, I semi leaned against it as the diarrhea expelled from my body. It was a wholly unpleasant experience. Big blowflies landed in it and buzzed around my face while I could do nothing but stand in fear that they would land on me. A single Kangaroo hopped on by and stopped gazing at me while all this unfolded.

Years later Spam actually posted on their Facebook account for people's first experiences eating Spam. I was more than happy to share mine.

Obviously I saved those images longer than 3 weeks ago, and at different intervals.

After all this we made our way to the start of the walk (which I did in jeans and skate shoes). Towards the start of the walk there was a lady running in some fun run, who had apparently ran all the way from Eden, and had ran through the night. My Dad told me about the origin of people doing this during fun runs (I really didn't care) and he complained that it couldn't be good for your health and was just silly. I remember my Dad recounting a story about an old friend of his. While my Dad and this man were hiking, my Dad threw an apple core into the bush. The man went and collected it, having a big go at my Dad about it being waste (my Dad didn't see the big deal, as it's organic, though I know why it is frowned upon in hiking society and don't do it myself). However this man also used to shit in the surf, right at public beaches while he surfed, which was the irony of the situation.
As we continued upwards I could feel the squishing in my bum, and felt as though I hadn't been able to thoroughly clean it (or the walking and sweat had made it all gross again). I found a small waterfall on a rock face while Dad walked ahead and lowered my pants to rinse out my bum.

As we made it towards the top we were inside huts they had for inclement weather for a rest and we ran into the girls from the camp my Dad had went over to that night. He introduced me as his son and we continued on our way. As we neared the top I was surprised that there was still some snow in December and we reached the top. Although it was the highest peak in Australia, and I do someday want to return and do it again, it wouldn't be high on my most thrilling walks list.

Dad however, bought me a pin to commemorate it, which I still have.

From here was passed somewhere near Cooma and almost ran out of fuel with a random guy giving us some fuel from his lawn mower so that we could make it to the nearest petrol station. (I have no idea why we were out that way as the next place I remember being was Bombala). We were closer to home, and all my hopes and excitement and expectation was there. There was parties and sex waiting for me (there were parties, no sex though).

I learned at Bombala that it was one of the locations considered for the parliamentary seat of Australia (ultimately it went to Canberra). I was also astonished, because for the first time in my entire life I saw a Platypus in the wild here.

We made out way to Bateman's Bay (were my Dad use to live back when he was young). I recall getting a meat lovers pizza with jalapenos from an Eagle Boys Pizza and thinking it was the nicest pizza I had ever had... the naivety.

There were many places we had been, again, lost in time to ever fading memory. I remember shooting my Dad's 22 rifle out somewhere in the middle of nowhere, I remember stopping in a town with parking in the middle of the road and not stopping in time and driving through and having to get Dad to park, (I cannot remember where this happened) and we stopped by a little creek with some Willows and cows on the field opposite us, and I remember thinking how beautiful the spot was. It sort of reminded me of the arboretum. There was also the time while travelling along a dirt road I had seen a flock of Emu's in the field opposite me, and as they turned and darted across the road I slammed on the breaks, managing to stop in time and not hit any, but because I hadn't put in the clutch Dad had a go at me to which I angrily retorted that at least I hadn't ran into all the fucking Emu's.

I know there was some recorded video footage, on a tape somewhere I might find one day and convert to place in here (whenever this corona-virus apocalypse world ends).

Update! Found the lost video footage: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XfTrMJMQ13Q&t=6s

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Thanks for reading! - Steven








Extra tidbits! - ROAD TRIP 2010

While studying Screen and Media at Tafe, one week night my friend Nathan had picked up another friend Jake, and myself and we had driven in to Wollongong Lighthouse in his car that he had dubbed 'Lucy'.
We were laughing and having fun and we joked about going onto a road trip to Melbourne. It was almost 10pm and we decided, let's go now. So we started driving. We joked about how ridiculous it was, and we laughed, and we made our way down the coast. We smoked cigars and we talked about girls, and we talked about random apocalypse survival, and if you could only eat one meal again for the rest of your life what would it be. Nathan was on his Red P's so more than 1 person in the car with him after 11pm would have lost him his license, so with Jake and I in the back after 11 we took it in turns ducking as cars came past. We were young, dumb, reckless and living our lives. A complete contrast to me now, an avid anti-smoker, follow the rules sort of guy.
It was wild and insane. We had our first stop at Ulladulla where we started doubting ourselves. We stopped in a McDonald's and I bought myself an iced coffee to stay awake.
Nathan in particular questioned whether we should push on (as he had the most to lose) and ultimately we continued down the coast, taking the long winding away (avoiding main roads, and police).

We continued along coaxing each other into smoking more cigars by quoting the segment from family guy with the 'subliminal messaging' telling people to smoke.

By the time we made it to Bega we stopped to get out of the car for some fresh air and a stretch. A local bakery was open and we chatted to a young guy just starting his shift who thought what we were doing was hilarious.

We continued south, with the idea getting more and more ridiculous the more we went on, but by the time we were reaching Eden, we were adamant we would at least reach the Victorian border.

We started through forest roads and the border seemed like it was taking forever. With nothing but signs says Orbost was up ahead. We started ranting and raving in sleep depraved lunacy about Orbost. "Fucking Orbost!" Jake would scream in the car next to me.

Finally we saw the Victorian border pulling up the car in crazed excitement and videoing the occasion.

We decided to head home and as dawn came and the sun came up we were all in need or rest, Nathan in particular as he had been driving. He pulled up for a little quick rest before we continued back and both Jake and I instantly fell asleep. I was soon woken up by a call from another friend, Stuart who was wondering if I was going to end up coming to TAFE that day, I told him the situation (I lately found out my favourite writing teacher Judex had been upset that I did not attend, although it did make for a blog, so there's that?) we continued on a highway shortcut that also took us through the ACT and at one point I watched as a truck came on to our side of the road heading right towards us before changing back into it's right lane again. The other guys were too tired and hadn't even noticed but I realised the truck driver must have been just as tired as them, but still the idea that we could have died then and there awoke me.

We made it home, accomplishing nothing much other than in-jokes about Orbost and a closer bond as friends. I don't see much of old friends anymore. I barely speak to these two guys in fact. But I have more than my fair share of fond memories. Dumb memories. But sometimes I still miss it. The simple life, the crazy life. I think that's why when I read something like a book by Jack Kerouac. Which is so honest in all their short comings, failures, faults, insecurities, I can't help but feel like, in someways, I definitely understand.