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Well, the property owner out the back of Bourke in outback Australia changed his mind and decided to come to Sydney for a few days, so we were left to look for another location at the last minute. Somebody suggested the Ridge for a bit of opal fossicking, so the Ridge it was.
Unfortunately, we forgot to check on the local conditions in that area before we left, so were in for a shock.
As it turned out.. it had been raining for a week.
Mix rain with clayey sticky soil and what do you get? The meanest, stickiest suck-you-down-and hold-you mud on the face of the planet.
Everything was fine until we got near the Ridge. We had a good run through the night, very little traffic and no problems. However, by the time we reached the general area, we noticed that everything was really wet.
By the time we got out the other side of town and headed towards the blokes property where we were supposed to be staying, it just got worse and worse. The "road" was like a river of mud. It was slippery, slick, deep, sticky, and a real nightmare in the making.
Somehow, we drove the toyota through this goop for about 10 miles before one particularly nasty deep hole and a big slide sideways put our 4 wheels into the sticky mud up to the tops of the tyres.
We could neither move forward or backwards. For a while, we sat in the vehicle and just thought about our situation. Then pete suggested that we would cut some brush, and get it under the wheels to help us get some traction going.
We thought about this some more. Then, because he had suggested it, we told him to make the first move. Pete, who is a BIG guy, six foot four and built like a tank, opened the door and stepped out.
His both legs disappeared up over his knees. Not only that, but he didnt say anything except, "c'mon guys, lets do it".
We all got out. I was last because I was the shortest. I went in up to my thighs. This was ok, until I tried to walk in this stuff. The top third was sorta watery, the middle third was muddy, the last third was glue.
I lost my shoe as I tried to lift my left foot out to take a step. I had to reach down into the muck to find it. I found it ok, but could hardly move it. Finally, it came out with a horrible sucking sound, a big glob of gooey sticky mud about the size of a melon.
Then I tried to get my other foot out without losing my right shoe...
I failed.
So now I had two large globes of mud, one in each hand, and I was up to my arse in it bare-footed.
Jimmy and big Pete were not faring quite as well as me. Jimmy had lost his balance and fell face-first into the stuff, and Pete couldnt move an inch because he was heavier and had sunk into the gluey bit further and deeper than both of us.
After a terrific struggle, we all managed somehow to get to the side of the "road". This was slightly less gluey, but twice as slippery. It was hard just standing up.
There were stringy saplings growing in this muck along a barb wire fence which we pulled out by the roots and stacked in a pile ready to be packed under the wheels of the toyota.
After a solid hour of toil, we looked at our efforts.
All of the saplings had disappeared into the goop under the wheels, swallowed up by the great bog. No sign could be seen of them.
I suggested that it was time to start the vehicle and try to get it moving again. as I was the shortest, I would drive, Jimmy and big Pete would push.
Oh my.... if the boys weren't covered in it before, after I spun the mud all over them with the back wheels, they certainly were then..
What next???
Ok says Jimmy.. I will ride on my bike to the property owners place which is just up the road a bit further and get him to bring his big tractor and pull us out.
Right says Pete and I, looking at Jimmy with some doubt.
Jimmy gets his mountain bike off the back and we help him to the side of the 'road' with it. He jumps on and away he goes, slipping and sliding along on the mud. About 100 yards he goes, then suddenly veers off into the 'road' and sinks up to the axles, stops dead and does a very graceful endo over the front into the goop.
Jimmy leaves the bike sticking in the mud and starts walking...slowly...
Pete and I wait... for a long time.
An hour or two later, we hear the sounds of a big heavy tractor coming. Sure enough, here comes the property owner with Jimmy in the big yellow monster.
First he extracts jimmy's bike, then he extracts our Toyota.
Next..... we make a mad dash back down the road towards the Ridge.
That is the most hair - raising drive I have ever done. I have raced bikes and karts at very high speeds, but that drive back to the Ridge was something I will NEVER forget.
I had to keep the speed up as high as possible so that we didn't get stuck again, while still keeping the toyota on the goopy mud of the "road". We slid and fishtailed from side to side all the way back to town. Boy was I glad to get into the pub for a calming beer.
The locals looked at us like we were crazy men, and I guess we looked like it too.. covered from head to toe in sticky mud. Everything was covered in the stuff. All our gear, our bikes, the seats in the toyota, everything.
We decided to head back towards the coast again away from the dreaded inland mud, and set off that same afternoon for an all night long drive dodging kangaroos on the road towards the sea.
It was a pleasure to hit the tarmac and be away from the dreaded mud. It took us the best part of three days to clean the mud off everything.
When I asked Jimmy if he 'enjoyed' his mountain bike ride, I thought that he was going to kill me...lol..
A few years after that incident, I found one of my socks in the bottom of my old pack. it was still encrusted with dry, red mud.
R.
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