Day 4 Sunday 12/2/2023 Heyfield, cool change 24˚
We laze about having coffee outside and chatting. We’re entertained by PB who is fixing something on PT’s van and as is usual for musters there are legs sticking out from under the caravan. The weather changes too quickly for our liking and it starts to rain. Toothless suggests that perhaps we should head onto Nicholson a day early as some of our crew are already there. Within minutes there’s a scramble and we’re off.
It’s almost lunchtime so we grab a pie in Maffra, damn we chose the wrong shop, and then pick up the M1 again at Stratford. We notice that there’s now a mural on the old railway bridge. It’s dedicated to Betty the circus elephant who was decapitated by this bridge in the 1950’s. We often hear of RV’ers losing their air conditioning units to a famously low bridge in Port Melbourne, so I guess the truck driver didn’t allow for the height of his rig with poor old Betty on board.
Our turn-off is just east of the township of Nicholson on the Nicholson River. We head north into bushland and farming and the Lakes Bushland Caravan Park which has an impressive entrance. Our site and that of Toothless and his Missus are at the back of the park, quite a distance from the others. Our site is sloping, boomerang-shaped, and a dust bowl. The odd shape is caused by a fire hose reel being at the front and at the back, there is a drop of about a foot to the cabin garden behind us. Definitely, an ankle-breaker waiting to happen. Like every other time we’ve been given a site with a fire hose reel slap bang in the middle, it takes Woody about 8 tries to get the van in, bearably level on the slope and with room to extend the awning. By this time tempers are frayed, we’re hot and dusty and I have to stop myself from blowing my top when one of the onlooking residents calls out “New to it is he love?”!!!
By the time we’re set up, it’s well after 4pm and the others are into happy hour spirit. Still fuming we drive back to the office and request another site. After much kerfuffle, a choice of 3 sites appear as if by magic and a long site for Toothless’ longer van. Finally, we can put our feet up. Toothless who hasn’t touched a drop of the demon drink for 9 weeks, is so stressed that he races into town for a slab of beer. Being our Club President, I doubt he’ll relax until all of his chicks are settled in.
The park is in a bushland setting with plenty of birdlife and at dusk, bunnies hop about. We ready the van for an early move in the moving. We don’t want to waste another day and with the mood that Woody is in he’ll cook those cute bloody rabbits!
Accom: $20.00
Towing Kms: 97Kms
itchingforhitching 
What a day eh? But rabbit stew is tasty …
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A sad paragraph about the wrong pie shop and Betty’s demise
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We always used to have rabbit stew at harvest time. The Combine Harvester always cut from the outside of the field and ended in the middle. Rabbits would retreat into the middle as the crop was cut and there were always at least a couple that were not clever, or quick, enough so they ended up in the pot!
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That’s life on the land. The quick and the dead.
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All the farming neighbours on all sides know we eat rabbits, so we’re constantly getting them left at the door! The freezer is full of them but they’re better than chicken!
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I can’t ever recall eating rabbit. During the depression Dad spent school holidays with relatives who lived on an island across our bay. They were doing it tough over there and ate rabbit every meal. Dad swore he’d never eat it again. By the time I was old enough to decide I’d become too fond of them.
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We cook our rabbits with prunes – which is probably not a good idea if travelling on a hot day in a closed vehicle!
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😱🤣
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