Day 3, Friday 8^th Nov 2013 Jamieson – Mansfield

It rained a little and gently overnight. It is now overcast but still warm. For the very first time, we test our year-old shower tent and it is great, but I wouldn’t like to have to use it in the winter. Boiling water and tiptoeing about from tent to van cold and damp.

Back in Jamieson for a coffee and a look around, it’s easy to just wander as there is almost no traffic. On the banks of the Jamieson River, there is a beautiful park and it is flanked by lovely cottages and shady gardens. This is a true sleepy hollow. While we stroll around half a dozen dusty old trucks arrive. They’re from the Historic Commercial Vehicle Club and they’ve been driving “across the top” and sleeping under the stars. They’ve come down through the Nariel Valley and over the ranges from Corryong to Omeo, then back over the mountains to Jamieson. Bedford’s, Internationals, and the oldest truck, a 1932 Dodge. Crikey, and we thought showering in the shower tent was cold. Those blokes must be tough.

We decide to spend a night in Mansfield as the town is gearing up for the Targa celebrations to start at 5:00pm. The main street is lined with hay bales and there are Race Marshalls stationed on every corner. We check into the High Country Holiday Park under shady trees with lots of grass. We hook up the water hose and psst we’ve sprung a leak in the waterline. A couple of trips to the nearby hardware store and Woody has it fixed along with a few spare hoses and clamps for future emergencies.

The park is buzzing with motorsport talk and at 5:00pm in light rain, we nip across to the owner’s house to take up his offer of watching the time trials from his deck. There are about fifteen of us on the deck, the owner’s family, friends, and park patrons and we have the best view. Being on a corner the track skirts two sides of the park. There is much cheering, waving and of course raising of drinks as the cars scream by. All in all, we have about two hours of great fun.

Towing Kms: 44Kms

2022 Note: When it comes to shower tent stories, I think my sister-in-law takes the cake. She was happily showering when the roofless tent dropped leaving her wet and starkers in front of the other campers. Now we never did get our shower tent folded up properly, I guess that, and boiling a bucket of water sowed the seeds for buying a caravan with a bathroom.