... The Traditional Disappointment

Those of you who have been following The Tales these past two years - or indeed any recountings of my bountifully exciting life - should be aware of the annual pilgrimage to all things blokey from the previous occasions I have informed you of my attendance at the event.

This years event was staged under conditions unlike any seen in the previous 20 odd years. The biggest break with tradition was the move of our location to one of the 20 hectares on the property of StumpyRudolph. This change was necessitated by our traditional camping ground having been in the path of the Black Saturday fires earlier this year.

Those in attendance this year - yours truly, Legion2, StumpyRudolph, Gavman, and BestFriendSincePrep - gathered at the crack of midday and set out on a visit to our old campsite to pay our respects. Upon arrival it was a stark reminder of the horrors that the fires had wrought to the area. Despite the green growth sprouting from many of the surviving eucalypts it was remeniscent of photographs I had seen of the battlefields of the Somme - trees jutting skyward, dirt and mud with no undergrowth and a sense of barreness and destruction.

After a short side trip to stock up on the much needed supplies such as bread, chips, chocolate, and drinks. We finally arrived with all our belongings at the chosen camping spot at the base of the hill.

The evening proceeded in a more-or-pess expected fashion with much merriment, lots of firewood gathering expeditions, 4 to a tent crowded sleeping conditions, and various other hijinks of which we are forbidden to tell lest we lose our membership in the cabal that is our brotherhood of attendees. Suffice to say that amongst all those goings-on I managed to make one of those rare visits to the magical 10,000 steps in a day and also received several small cinder-burns in unusual places.

The other major break with tradition was several brief visits by StumpyRudolph's spawn - a fact that we let him off the hook about for now but shall call him to account about later on when it suits the furtherance of our collective agendas.

As is also typical I have returned home this afternoon to while away my time in sleep deprived meanderings about the house merely counting the hours until I could once more fall into a proper bed for a good night's rest.
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