Stories on the sheep farm

Day: 192-194 Stage three / total expedition days 583-585

Sunrise:
05:25

Sunset:
18:46-18:48

Total kilometers:
5909 km

Temperature - Day (maximum):
38°-41° degrees, sun approx. 62°-67°

Temperature - Night:
19°-28° degrees

Latitude:
22°55'24,4"

Longitude:
145°06'30.4"

Glenample-Camp – 24.11.2002 – 26.11.2002

“You can go swimming in my face,” says Tanja, covered in sweat, after writing a few letters in the small kitchen. It looks like it’s getting warmer every day now. Nevertheless, we are happy to be able to live here in this little hut. Although it’s really hot, at least we’re not bothered by all the flies. As always, time seems to be racing by. Every day I sit here and write. Tanja sorts the food again for the coming running week. I give a few interviews, try to get our English website updated and much more. Although Terry has a team of shearers here to shear about 10,000 sheep in the coming week, he cuts down a tree for our camels every day. “The trees have to go anyway. Don’t worry about it. Besides, we can’t let your camels starve,” he says and starts the chainsaw. Famished, our six camel mouths fall over the huge delicacy. They totally disdain the big round bales of hay that Terry brought them. Apparently there is nothing in it that they like. Terry gives them his last eight pressed and expensive bales of hay to go with the trees. Compared to the large round bales, these square bales contain everything a camel loves. Once they have eaten the tree, they will shove the hay down their throats.

Our hosts Heather and Terry invite us to dinner every evening. We tell them stories about our lives. Terry also has a lot to tell. I am amazed when he tells me about his brother-in-law who found one of Australia’s largest dinosaur skeletons on his farm or how a farmer got a million dollars for a single bale of sheep’s wool. He tells how he was thrown from his horse and got his fingers caught in the reins. He was dragged behind and lost two fingers in the process. His brother gouged out his eye in the middle of the bush when he fell into the barrel of his own gun in a motorcycle accident. A friend lost a leg while drilling a fence post and much more. As we are afraid of the rain that might come, we absolutely have to move on. If time permits I will tell some of Terry’s stories and our further experiences in the next update…

I’m nowhere near as exhausted here on Glenample as I was when we arrived on Bimbah. That’s why, after just a few days, I have enough energy to set off in search of our dog’s secret records. Because Rufus doesn’t have as many hiding places here as on Bimbah, I think he can find his little book quickly. But again, I didn’t reckon with his cunning. I quickly check all the equipment.

Unsuccessful, I then sit down on the wooden steps in front of our little hut and take a look around. I’m sure he didn’t put it under the saddles. That would be too easy. But where could it be? Under a tree? Too dangerous. Anyone could find it and he certainly won’t let that happen. Since our hut stands on logs, I suspect it is down there. Although there are piles of garbage, cobwebs and mice nests, I crawl around on all fours. I am very careful not to encounter any snakes. After ¼ hour, I give up completely dirty and sweaty. I sit down on the stairs again and think. After a while, I wander through the farm grounds. I pass the farm dog’s kennel. “So how are you doing in there?” I ask him. He looks at me with a strange look. “What’s wrong with you? Come here,’ I say, whereupon he runs to me somewhat reluctantly. I can’t believe it. The farm dog and Rufus seem to be working together. “I can’t believe this,” I whisper quietly as I realize that the farm dog has been sitting on the secret document, obviously hiding it for his new friend. I carefully push the booklet against the bars with a stick. Then I pick it up and open it slowly…

THE EXPEDITION DIARY OF AN EXPEDITION DOG NAME RUFUS

You can say what you like, but after such a rest, the fresh travel wind around my dog’s nose feels good again…! If only it were a breath of fresh air. On the last rest day I thought I was going to fall backwards unconscious into the grass when I discovered Tanja tampering with my muzzle. As if this thing isn’t hideous enough, I have to watch Tanja sew a thin mesh around the entire basket. As she works, she explains to me: “…and to make the whole thing even more comfortable for our Rufus, you’ll get a piece of sheepskin over this strap. So the bridge of your nose is protected!” Until the moment we set off, I thought this must be a mix-up. Unfortunately, this muzzle really means me. But that is by no means enough. The crowning glory is literally my new peaked cap. At first I was really embarrassed to walk around like that. Some people would probably think I was dangerous. But when Tanja and Denis kept telling me how great I looked and explaining the advantages of the muzzle and cap, I was able to come to terms with it. Apparently there must always be new experiences on expeditions, otherwise it would be a picnic…

These cracks and holes in the ground were quite something. It took a lot of concentration not to fall into such a hole… Who knows, maybe I would have come out in China and I heard they eat dogs there… Horrible idea. The relief came when we arrived at Glenample and I was not on a lead or chain or even muzzled. The timing of our arrival couldn’t have been better, as the friendly farmer Terry was busy cutting up a sheep. Since shyness leads to nothing, I approached him and looked at him hungrily. My hungry look must have made a powerful impression on Terry, because he kept throwing me nice, tasty bones and pieces of meat.

Of course, I kept this “little” festive outing to myself. What reason is there to make a big deal of this? As well-behaved and quick as ever, I came to Tanja when I heard my food whistle. My delicious dog crunchies were just the right dessert, although I have to admit that I had trouble getting everything into my stomach. Two hours later I was blown away when Terry told my humans: “I thought I’d never get enough of your dog Rufus. Boy, he can eat a lot.”

It’s a life of revelations as an expedition dog…