Pre-departure trips
Trip Start
Jan 20, 2004
1
2
88
Trip End
Feb 01, 2005
Mildura,
Australia
Monday, January 5, 2004
After a crazy week of saying goodbyes, finishing work and packing my gear I left Melbourne to move home with my parents until I go o/s. I shed a bit of a tear when I left the house that I shared with Bec and Betto for 3 great years. After being called a sook and told to leave, I was on the road to Mildura - a 5 1/2 hour drive away.
Ben and his girlfriend Maree had dropped Dad off at the airport on their way back to Mildura (having just had a hernia operation Dad was a little fragile for the long drive and had been relegated to moving supervisor and lift button operator on the truck), and Mum was ahead of me in the removalist truck.
As per usual I called in at Nan's at Wedderburn for a half distance pitstop and met up with Mum again
B and S Chick
. Quite fascinated by my new nifty digi camera, I took some pictures along the way through the windscreen which have turned out surprisingly okay. We ended up reaching home at about 11:30pm. #2 - Towong Races (Saturday 27 December)
Betto invited Bec and I to her place at Kergunyah (near Wodonga) for the Towong Races. This was my third Towong Race meeting and previous visits had never disappointed. So many stories have come out of trips to Towong that I couldn't miss my last opportunity.
At around 600km from Mildura, Betto's place is further than a trip to Melbourne. Leaving on Boxing Day afternoon I took the back roads through New South Wales and made excellent time. With not much traffic around I could put the boot into it.
Mum and Dad loaned me the ute for the trip (after coming home I decided to retire the Mighty Meteor) and I looked like a true country chick heading to a B&S with the swag and esky roped to the back
Not many mulberries
. Dad suggested a set of longhorn stickers for the back window and Kenworth mudflaps, however I thought that that was a little excessive (especially since I've never even been to a B&S).After dropping into Wodonga to visit Gary & Rhonda (friends from my college days) I rocked up at Betto's place to her suggestion that we sleep outside on the back of the ute in our swags.
Previous trips to Towong have been in the vanski, although due to diminished performance it was left at home, and Bec, Betto and I went with Johnny B and Dunny in Johnny's Commodore. All being Ford fans, Johnny B copped a bit of flack and questions as to when he is going to get a Ford.
We set up our spot under what used to be magnificent shady trees, near the horse stalls. The picnic was set up and the first bets made. During the course of the day I made a few bets, however none came in. My only luck of the day was when I was carrying the esky back to the car I found $1.50, which reduced my losses a fraction!
Being a non-drinker my Towong duties have always included driving everyone back down the mountain. There was quite a bit of noise, beer and photo poses in the car, and we were disappointed to see that the booze bus wasn't in Towong like it has been every other time.
When we rocked up at Koetong Pub halfway down the mountain, the place was full of bikies from Shepparton, two of which were Rhonda's uncles
PS Mary Ann
. Dunny was challenged to a foot stomping competition by 'Uncle Max' after we had commented on their boots. It turned out that Uncle Max had a wooden foot...I was coerced into downing 3 red cordial shots and from there things became rather silly. I had my photo taken on Uncle Max's big beefy Triumph - somewhat of a calendar pose except with a few more clothes on.
We had a BBQ at Betto's aunt and uncle's place and watched Dunny ride a bike off a jump and into the dam, managing to do almost a complete somersault before hitting the water.
It was another night under the stars on Betto's front lawn with Bec valiantly attempting to point out the Grong Grong Duck constellation.
The next day Betto's family were going to Yarrawonga for a BBQ with family friends. I tagged along as it was pretty much on my way back home, and I'd never been to Yarrawonga before. Bec was heading home to Grong Grong for some skiing with her family before she drove back to Melbourne.
Towong Races
After lunch and a swim in Lake Mulwala, with it's dead trees in the middle, ski boats roaring and human turd floating past the swimming area I said goodbye to Betto's family, who have always been so generous and welcoming to me, and headed back home.
#3 - Picking Mulberries (Thursday 1 January)
Every year I look forward to our mulberry picking trip. On the other side of the river near our place there are two mulberry trees which ripen around Christmas and New Year. While I was at Towong, my family and friends went picking. Thankfully the trees were loaded and a second trip arranged for New Years Day.
We left late in the afternoon, although it was still stinking hot, and took the Paddlesteamer Mary Ann to the mulberries with family and friends. We had to stop and load firewood before we could steam upstream. I hadn't been on the Murray River since September when I joined part of the river run celebrating 150 years of Murray River Shipping and enjoyed sitting back on the deck chatting and watching the river banks go by
Triumph at Koetong
. I was so hot by the time we got to the mulberries, a combination of heat from the steam engine and no cover, that I jumped in the river to cool off. When I went to get out of the water, I realised that there was clay underneath. I hate the squishy mud between my toes and the knowledge that there could be a yabby lurking, ready to nip my toes. So I climbed up the rudder. It was a big step up and I put my foot in a tyre hanging over the side in an attempt to get a bit closer before throwing my leg over. The tyre swung around the other side and left me dangling with one foot in the tyre and the other searching for the rudder before I fell back into the water. I had some assistance on the second go and managed to get back in the boat with a bit more dignity.
After some sandwiches we went up the dirt track to the mulberry trees, buckets in hand. The tree was full of fat black berries, and also the red and white unripe ones. I climbed high up and started picking with the ratio of one for the bucket, one for the mouth. It was a bit tricky to lean out and try and catch a berry in the bucket without it dropping to the ground. Being so high up the tree made me realise that my tree climbing days are numbered. It was a bit of a scramble to get up there, and the swaying of the tree made me even more conscious that it was over 100 years old.
Back on the ground I realised that I hadn't actually picked many mulberries in comparison to everyone else. I gave my bucket to someone else and then found myself a patch of juicy ripe mulberries and started to gorge myself - I mean who knows when I'll be having fresh mulberries again??
Back at the boat everyone was washing the mulberry stains off their hands and clothes. Mulberry stains are bright red and they are difficult to get off so we had picked some green mulberries to crush in our hands, which oddly removes the stain.
Back home we washed the mulberries and served them up with ice-cream. After a couple of helpings, I had had enough.
