The last night was rather sad, as we reflected on the getaway:
Casper:
I don't tow often enough to be au fait with the intricacies and foibles of canvas, gas, and gays without phone reception. I've always considered camping to be something you did if no other choices were available. Waking to the sounds of a kookaburra kooking, and Nico farting, is both wonderful and frightening. Nico should not eat protein, and that's all there is to it.
The Pathfinder was flawless. It featured only in the arrival and departure sequences, but it towed the camper without complaint. I thought I was going to sleep in the car, cos, you know, bugs. It turns out there are no bugs in a netted annex with flexible roll-down siding.
While I'd do it again, 2 couples would make the sleeping arrangements a bit less spit-and-touch-dibs, if you know what I mean.
Nico:
The boys were great. We got along like bonding brothers on a bender. Travis whipped out his best Gordon Ramsey impression, but slightly less sweary. Alan is great at sorting out little things that don't work properly. And, Casper, oh Casper; he is the man with the ability to pack a 4 bedroom house into a matchbox.
We thought we'd be in a middle-Earth dell, lit only by shards of sunlight glinting though near-impenetrable stands of gently-oscillating elms. We thought there'd be a gingham blanky spread on a soft mossy spot, selected at random from a galaxy of sites of soft greenery. The reality is very different.
You come off a slightly muddy, little traversed trail onto a smaller-than-advertised grassy knoll. You spend an hour reverse-parking, in case of an unexpected bush-fire alert (remember, no cell service), then flatten the weeds so the plakky annex floor ccan be laid.
We did the setup while swigging from the same voddy bottle. Germs you say? Well hey, we've all done the glory hole thing, so this is a doddle.
Alan:
This trip was probably 1 step under needing a full-on 4X4 to complete. It wasn't the the fact that I fancied a new Range Rover anyway, but that I very much doubted the veracity of a recommendation from a man who looked like he'd been strumped by a XXXX delivery truck.
Keep in mind that none of us knew the first thing about hitching one thing to another, we made use of youtube while we still had signal. This was also the first weekend Nico didn't spend trawling GRINDR for meaningful conversations like, "Hey", "Hey," followed by what sounds like 2 hookers grunting, while circling a 70-year-old.
The one saving grace was that we had an acre of pillows, and vats-worth of booze. It soon transpired that owning a RAM does not equal the innate ability back up a trailer. Travis, I'm looking at you.
We were useless, one and all. Yet somehow, we managed without driving into a creek, burning down the campsite, or more importantly for a gaggle of gays, unscheduled swapping of body fluids.
Pathfinder felt rather like a gentlemen's club in the middle of the bush, and after 4 nights off the beaten track, made us all feel more convivially disposed to a repeat performance.
One gentle rise left us on the raggedy edge of possibility. We all thought we'd be spending the night at the side of a track rather than the carefully chosen creek-side glade. We took the chance and selected mud, to find Pathfinder was then able to scamper up the hill like a goat on heat.
After a few days, the site resembled a magazine-cover bivouac.
Would we do it again?
It was a beautifully restful mid-week thing. The Pathfinder was perfect PARKES 15 MK3 QUAD was rather cool, but the annex saw possible territorial demarcation disputes. Really, the only thing standing between us and an episode of The Persuaders was the 70's theme music.
Tags: Nissan, nissan pathfinder, nissan SUV, gay camping, gay campers, glamping
Tags: #Nissan, #nissanpathfinder, #nissanSUV, #gaycamping, #gaycampers, #glapmping
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