Challenge 30 - Roughing it

My idea of a holiday involves a turn-down service and little points on the ends of my toilet paper. So it was with girded loins and steeled jaw that I suggest Partner and I go camping.

And I don't mean Scout Camping (aka baby sitting in a large-ish backyard). I mean the kind of camping where it's just you, the elements and that giant amenities block called Nature.

We arrive at Koombooloomba and set up camp. There are a few families here - mostly with humongous camp set-ups that involve portaloos, camp showers, patios on their broad acre tents and generators to run their fridges. We. however, have two sticks to rub together and a dome tent with the structural integrity of a Kleenex.

Go hunting for firewood. Koombooloomba is on top of a mountain behind Tully - town best known for its giant fibreglass gumboot. Tully measures rainfall in metres, not inches. Dry firewood scarce. We bushwhack, trudge and push our way through hostile territory. I have tick paranoia. Suddenly every tickle on my skin is a blood sucking parasite. Every few steps Ido the pogo and flick frantically at my clothes. I hate ticks.

Back at camp I spy two widow-makers suspended in a tree. 'I'll get one for the fire,' I declare. 'It's going to fall on your head,' says Partner. He picks up a rock and examines thoughtfully.

Remove shoes and start up tree. Tell self nibleness is all in the mind.

Hear words Youtube and camera. Climb faster. Can't reach branch. So close! Lose skin off arm as I slide down trunk like 80 grit sandpaper (see, I know stuff).

Drag esky over and stand on tippy toes. Can just reach branch. 'It's going to fall on your head,' says Partner. Ties a piece of rope to his rock. I reach branch and pull ever-so-gently. Branch touches down like a pussy willow on the wind.

'Ha!' I shout, doing triumph dance. Partner gives loppy smile, like Clint Eastwood. Throws rock over second branch and pulls rope. Branch hits ground. High fives all round!

That evening we hike. Ground covered in dodgy rocks. It's like the surface of Mars out here (see top right hand corner of pic). I fear for my delicate ankles.

Throw my first line into the water. Within seconds I have a fish. A minute later and I have caught the second fish of my life. 'This camping business is AWESOME!' I declare. Partner catches fish and smiles. I throw line in and it snags.

'Don't have many sinkers,' says Partner. 'You'll have to go in.' Toss clothes off and wade into water. Dam at 30%. Ground silty and horrid. Slip on slimy rock and disappear up to armpit. Find line and un-snag.

'It's getting dark,' I say. 'Time to head back.'

'When you're catching fish, you don't leave,' says Partner. 'It's a rule.' He's wearing Dodgy Ron's Fishing Adventures cap so he should know.

'Time. To. Head. Back.' I say. Night falls quickly. Terrain treacherous - no dirt, just shifting shale and slippery rock. Bank incredibly steep. Crest and follow dirt road and hit 6ft fence with barb. Getting tricky to see my own feet. DON'T PANIC!! I mean, don't panic.

Clouds shift to reveal full moon. Make up prayer to Moon Goddess and struggle down rocky embankment. Again. 'Don;t follow too close,' says Partner. 'I don't want you landing on me.' 'Nice,' I say. I would never do something like that. He has no squishy bits worth landing on.

Finally reach camp site and collapse in exhausted heap.

Bask in glory of first night at Koombooloomba. Sunshine, fish and firelight ... how good is that?