He Did What!? Wednesday - By A Desert Rambler

Shoulda Asked For Directions - By A Desert Rambler 

My husband and I are big on camping. To many people, that is enough to certify us as insane. At times I'm inclined to agree with them. Especially when it means your vehicle gets stuck in a creek miles from anywhere and you have to traipse through the bush in your underwear.

A few years ago we took a holiday by the river on a picturesque Queensland cattle station.One day we decided to drive to a billabong on the property for a picnic. We could have done this anywhere - there was no shortage of pretty spots.

But my husband, being a hunter, decided it had to be this spot because it offered the possibility of game.To get there we had to drive through a creek. The kind that has, you know, water in it.

"Looks a bit deep," I said. "She'll be right," he said.

"Maybe we should give it a miss," I said. "It'll be right," he said.

"Maybe we should at least look for a better crossing," I said. "It'll be FINE," he said.

And drove through. It was fine.

We arrived at the waterhole, had our picnic, and he hunted.

With him in very high spirits after being proven right and his hunting success, we headed back. And got bogged in the creek. Up to the axles.

Sadly not a photo of the bright red jocks

We pushed. We pulled. We performed acrobatics climbing in and out of the ute via the windows, because opening the doors would flood the cab. We flecked about with an improvised winch thingy.

But it was bogged. Big time.

Eventually he stripped off his dripping pants and we paraded, him in bright red jocks, through the countryside back to the tent on foot.

Once there we were where was able to get help, thankfully. Not so thankfully, it was from a guy who drove like all the demons of hell were on his rather intoxicated tail. He almost killed us several times on the trip back to our vehicle. And who also kindly informed us there was an established crossing a couple of hundred meters downstream.

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The fabulous Emma blogs over at A Desert Rambler (not a dessert rambler, even though I think that would be ace too).

She's a Sandgroper like me and is living it up, as the blog title would suggest, in the desert (not dessert). The Goldfields to be exact, where she's surrounded by a husband, two dogs, a cat and a whole lotta red dirt.

When she's not working as a lab tech she's designing websites and faffing about on the internet and tweeting.

Next week: Wanna go Slightly Deep?
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