2024-10-27 -37 144
| Sun 27 Oct 2024 in -37,144: -37.4264130, 144.9460229 geohashing.info google osm bing/os kml crox |
Location
On a dirt track near Wallan, north of Melbourne.
Participants
Expedition
KT and I are heading to Bendigo for a small gathering of KT's relatives. Unlike the large gatherings, which number up to 150, this one would be confined to a mere fifty or so cousins, aunts, uncles, partners and offsprings. And with the barest wrinkle in our driving trajectory, we could pick up a geohash on the way there.
For reasons involving a party we attended the night before, and another, even louder party that we didn't attend, we are not taking the Mighty Yaris. We are taking the Feckless Ford, northward up Sydney Road, along the Hume, before deviating through a soul-less housing estate or two and a boring dirt road when suddenly --
Stop! Is that a pony? Brakes on. Reverse. Park. Keys out. Doors open. Out of the car. Yes! It's a cute Shetland pony within easy patting distance. He doesn't look entirely convinced by the merits of pats and scritches, but he does wonders for the reputations of Shetland Ponies worldwide by even tolerating it. He even politely nibbles an entirely mundane grass offering proffered by KT before our busy schedule sneaks up behind us and prods us on our way, when suddenly --
Wait, are those guinea fowl? Why are they wandering about, across the road? No time to find out, back in the car. (Did you notice I forgot to close the door when I got out? I didn't.) Onwards onto more interesting dirt roads, winding and undulating, when suddenly --
KT pats a pony.
Guinea fowl, but why?
Stop! We passed the point. Parks. Keys out. Doors open. Out of the car. Doors closed, we're learning. Short walk back up the road, and casual traipse through the open undergrowth, checking for snakes. We both reach the point precisely and without mishap, although we are in two separate places when we do, but it still counts. Back to the car, and onwards onto roads neither boring nor interesting then onto boring busy highways stuck behind unpassable trailers which force us onto a more interesting side route when suddenly --
What's that hanging from that street sign. Is that a pair of shorts? Hanging from the sign that says Shorts Lane? It's genius. I giggle. KT giggles. We high five. But we don't need to stop. Until suddenly --
Success!
Stop! Is that a turtle? On the road? Brakes on. U-turn. Back up the road. Out of the car. Grab the turtle. Back in the car. Is the turtle dead? Why does my hand stink? Oh, that's normal for turtle pee. The creature lives! Probably. Out of the car. Doors closed. Scurry down a driveway to a large dam. KT commando rolls under the fence, deposits the turtle by the water's edge, where it proceeds to do precisely nothing. She pokes it. It twitches. It's alive!
Turtle friend
Saving a life.
Back to the car. (Did you notice that I forgot to take the keys? I didn't.) Onwards up the highway to a maelstrom of relatives, a flurry of names soon forgotten, a mountain of food and a delightful country setting. It is lovely. But we must eventually return to check on our boy. He is no longer beside the dam. We take this to be good news.
Go well, little turtle.
Big Balls
