Chapter 13

Snow on the ground? A couple of feet? In Australia? Well, Yeah. It’s Chapter 13 ... what did you expect? It does snow in the mountains. It snows at the equator ... in the mountains.

To get where I am involved driving that Australian built six by six up the stream bed. In the water ... fully loaded with half a mountain of spares. Now I have to get out. You see ... if the women had paid attention to the Museum closing time and not run off without looking, I wouldn’t have been up a creek ... without a paddle ... so to speak.

With this much snow, I can expect a good bit of runoff and it would behoove me to get my ass in gear, It’s only -2c tonight ... barely on the edge of melting. I know it seems a little weird, but it’s closer to Sunny Corner if I go over the mountain rather than head downstream.

I have the perfect vehicle for that. A former six wheel drive ambulance with an Isuzu 3.9 four cylinder turbo diesel powering a four speed manual transmission with hi-lo transfer case, locking hubs and decent clearance. Tires are 12 ply and almost impossible to collapse when airless.

I can’t claim I never got lost but the GPS did mention that I was heading northeast when my intention was southwest. To me, that’s similar to thinking it’s Monday and being told it’s Tuesday ... makes my head swim.

The landholder did seem amazed that I was trespassing from the wrong side ... coming off the mountain rather than driving in from the road. We had a cuppa with his missus and three teen daughters ... the girls were upset to find that I was nearly forty-three. The family admired the Land Rover and he wondered where he could buy one. Since the auction wasn’t doing all that well I suggested he head for Lithgow and buy one.

“They’re going cheap,” I said. “This one was five hundred dollars.”

“I’ll just do that then.”

I suggested he call first.

The Auction had been extended for at least a day.

We went our separate ways ... he and the missus off to Lithgow and me, off to Bathurst. The girls stayed to mind the stock. They didn’t look too disappointed.

My girls were happy to see me. I had a fashion show. The clothes didn’t look all that different from what the shops sold in Bathurst ... but what do I know.

We didn’t go to the Dream site the next day ... or the day after. In fact, we didn’t go for a fortnight, the weather turned on us and we were rained in. Mostly, the Mustang took Abby out to the uni and Myndee off to the shops. I stayed home and guarded the Defender ... all that gold.

Mr. Burt, the landowner, called and thanked me for the information about the sale; he bought two. His girls asked after me but that stopped when school started and the boys flocked. Farm girls ... blooming, busty, beautiful ... they’re supposed to look like that ... it’s the mating game. Then they begin to be comfortable ... then they begin to look like mother.

Abby was having the dream nightly ... until she told the cowfaces that she got it ... and didn’t need to be told again. Abby was surprised ... Myndee ... was surprised ... me? not so much. I knew she was smart.

The dreamtime came to Abby.

“There’s a Grandfather in Sydney ... we’re supposed to go see him ... this weekend. Take the Defender.”

Like I have mentioned ... my wealth came from inventions I dreamed up; Abby said it ... we did it.

“Do we have to take the same road?” she said, “I admit it’s pretty ... but.”

“I know. It’s only a roadtrip the first time. Let me google.”

So I did the google directions and typed in Scenic. Whoa!

“To Lithgow we have to take the A32 ... through Lithgow and take Bells Line of Road. There’s even a train you and Myndee could take and I’ll pick you up at the railhead.”

“No ... Umh ... There’s a class ... umh ... Astronomy ... It’s University of Sydney ... but ... ah ... Charles Sturt students are invited.

“Can I spend some money?”

“Honey, it’s your trust ... educational equipment is allowed.”

“Myndee, I need a ride.

“No, Dad. You need to sort the Defender. We’ll be camping.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“One night ... maybe two. I have a form you need to sign.”

She stuck it under my nose.

Setup! I’ve been SETUP! By a thirteen year old!

The form was a Standard Permission slip for an underage university student. I scrawled. She stuffed it in her pack, snatched the Mustang keys and her One Card from the Den safe, grabbed Myndee and skipped out the door.

I went to the garage. Two hours later, I had her tent, my tent, our bags, the cooler and an assortment of freezer meals organized and the accroutements necessary for a decent couple of days packed in the back.