what was planned to be a pretty relaxing drive to lake eildon for a weekend of camping for a friend's 21st, pete and i soon found out what it was like to be completely lost.
we left melbourne around 8pm on friday night, dropped by coles and grabbed a whole lotta grog. we get around the general area (eildon) by aroun 11:30, and following the directions given to us turned right as soon as you pass the bridge. so the right turn we took, not knowing that the directions were referring to the THIRD bridge along that stretch of road.
an hour later, after going through pot holes and running over boulders, we come across a three-pronged fork in the road. the directions told us "when you come to clearing, go right and go all the way down". we turn right and nearly drive off a cliff. then we drive through a bog and my landcruiser 4WD slides in the mud and the water level reaches the top of my tyres so i think we're fucked. i rev the car like there's no tomorrow and pete and i make it across. only problem is though, we need to get through it since we're going the wrong friggin' way.
i try reversing, knowing all too well if we get bogged, we would be completely screwed. i do a death/gravity defying u-turn on the edge of a cliff, and at this point pete takes the wheel and we manage to drive through the pothole. we rejoiced.
we decide to go back to a clearing we drove past in the last two hours and camp there for the night. but before we get back there, we see another fork in the road and think "hey, let's try that one." an hour later, we both say "fuck this" and head back to the main road. fatigued, annoyed, sober, we find some dirtbike track, park the car and start a fire.
after an hour, the fire is going well and we crack open our 1 litre bottle of Jimmy and drink the night away until the sun comes up. the sun crept over the mountains but the air was still icy. we decide to skull the last of the Beam and drive into town to get some breakfast. after that, we think we'll give it another shot. so we climb the moutain for a third time, until we come across a couple of drik-bikers who say "i don't know how you're gonna get up there", so we take this as a hint to turn back.
defeated but determined, i suggest we continue a little further down the road until we come across BRIDGE #2... we look at each other, ready to explode. we drive a little further, and BRIDGE #3 comes up with the sign we had thought we'd seen earlier. we take the turn but do another wrong turn as we approached the fork in the road. we did a u-turn and followed the other track and 20 mins later found the campsite.
we got out, fatigued, still drunk, but relieved. pete went on to chop down a tree, and i just cracked open a Coopers and got even more smashed.
pete and i both crash out at 6pm, after being awake since 7am the following morning, and driving all night and morning. we get up later around 8pm and eveyone is wasted, so we join in and get tanked with the rest of the Coopers and a bottle of Jose Cuervo Especial tequilla and some cask white wine as a chaser.
...and then finally this afternoon, after sobering up and clearing up the campsite we head back home at 2:30ish. we get home at around 7pm after stoppping by healsveal for some food.
what an awesome adventure. what started off with frustration and turmoil, the night turned out to be awesome as pete and i jsut sat there, pissed off our heads, talking and drinking. pot holes, bogs, cliff-faces, boulders, a million bloody forks. we did finally make it to the real campsite as you now know, but it was nice to be completely lost with one of my best friends.
man, 504kms! pete, thanks for being there with me the whole way bruz, i couldn't have done it without you.
-LOki
