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Pemberton and the trial of Big Dave!
Daddy and I felt that a camping trip was in order, so planned a little weekend excursion down to Pemberton, and to hopefully climb one of the Giant Karri tree's! We packed the esky with beer, wine, champagne and a smidgen of food, and set off down south in the lovely Moby. Moby is my Dad's huge car, well a rather long estate at least, but an absolute beauty to drive!
We had decided to stay in the national park, or rather I managed to convince him that it would be far more fun, and definitely a nature discovery to stay in the park! The only weakness to this theory, is that the campsite we found, lacked showers, had chemical toilets only, but did at least have a tap (compared to some campsites I have stayed at since, this could be considered luxury). Due to some fantastic map reading skills, I sent us down the wrong road, which was only really suitable for 4WD, and did require us to remove fallen tree's from the road, however it did provide me with an opportunity to show off my immense strength! We soon discovered (after 30 minutes anyway) that we were on the wrong track, so chucked a ueey (u-turn, apologies for spelling) and made our way to Carey Brook! With such a name we were hoping, for a crystal clear, maybe even warm, river to take a dip and a wash in. We were sadly mistaken, and discovered a dark creek, with the water turned a deep brown by the tea tree's residing within, and to top it all, it appeared that it was also the holiday destination of choice for the local mosquito families! Next job on the agenda, was to set up camp, and sit down for a cold brewski! Despite it still being early in the day, we decided that the rest of the day we would just chill, play a bit of poker and dabble into an assortment of beverages! My Dad successfully burnt the steak on the camp fire, it was certainly well done, and then with my help, brought a giant log down from the bush, to help our fire burn just a little longer (to be precise, it was still going strong two days later on Sunday morning). Much chinwagging was to follow, and we hit the sack in the early hours of the monring, ok 11 pm, but when you are camping the darkness kind of makes everything feel later.
After a cold night's sleep, clearly my sleeping bag was not designed for a cold night, but my shivering did provide an ounce of warmth, we cooked our full english (with a nice smokey taste from the camp fire). We were feeling a little worse for wear, so decided to leave any tree climbing for the Sunday, and to take Saturday a little easier! We popped down to Bendelup Falls, which were alright, but hardly the massive waterfall I was hoping for! This was followed by a gentle stroll around the reservoir, and a picture opportunity in the walk in tree (big tree with a hole in it). A visit to Pemberton was to follow, with a pub lunch, and a glance at the tram! However it looked a little sad, so we decided to pass, and instead check out a gallery (my Dad is quite the art geek at times-should see the sheer collection of paintings dotted around the house). We went via the Gloucester Tree, on our return to camp, as Dad was trying to get the fear in me (unsuccessul of course, I am immeasurably fearless), before our climb the following morning!
The next morning, with a spring in every step, we nipped down to the Dave Evans Bicentennial Tree, or Big Dave. It is the tallest if the fire lookout trees, standing at an impressive 65 m. The climb up is via metal pegs stuck into the trunk, with a viewing platform at the summit! However on setting his gaze upon the beast, my Dad promptly chickened out of the climb! Luckily with a little coaxing and teasing I was able to convince him that it must be done! The first few metres are a breeze, but as you get slightly higher, the scale becomes clearer, and the nerves kick in a little more! I was lucky though, as the adrenaline kicked in, and I picked up pace, to hit the top in a good time! Leaving my Dad behind, as he made a slow ascent, while shivering in fear, I began to soak in some awesome views from the summit! I regretted not taking a jumper up with me, as it can get a little cold and windy at the tree's peak! After a few conquering pikkies, we made our descent, but were sadly slowed down by a pair of wimps in front! My Dad suffered more on this, as he was clearly not a fan of waiting around on the metal pegs, while the wimples completed their journey! Next was the Cascades, once again an overhyped tourist attraction, but compared to the next it was markably better, I would say its name, but our next stop was so memorable thats its name now esapes me! Windy Harbour soon followed, and true to its name it was rather blowy, making it near on impossible to sit on the beach, so a trip to the cliffs was next! The hunger soon kicked in so we headed to Northcliffe, a tiny little village, where the villages friendliness was hardly to be desired, and the food is lacking in its very existence, and not just taste!
Well that was my little camping trip, which I am sure you all enjoyed, but to make sure you were paying attention, see if you can answer the following question (without cheating please): What is my Dad's car called?!
A correct answer, earns you a much deserved pat on the back! Enjoy!
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