TRIP REPORT FOR FEBRUARY 21-22, 2004
Trek Number: 7
Destination: "The Mountain"
Number of People: 9
Weather Conditions: Fine and sunny very hot days, clear nights.
Vehicles: Toyota FJ62 Land Cruiser
Toyota HJ60 Land Cruiser
Mitsubishi NK Pajero
Toyota 90 Series Prado
Reviews: 0

 

Friday, February 20:

This trip is special in that it marks the first anniversary of the 4WD BDSM Getaway! Weekend tours. Yes, folks, that's right, we've been sending wildlife into therapy for a whole year now. And what better way to celebrate it, I thought, than to host a 1st Anniversary Formal D/s Dinner in its honour. Arrangements were duly made with G&C up at The Mountain, and off we went. The run up the F3 freeway was quite good, after the usual snail's pace up the Pacific Highway through the northern Sydney suburbs. Our usual food and fuel stop at Beresfield, just south of Maitland, took just under forty five minutes, and then we were off again, stopping next at Muswellbrook for fuel. I always like to fill up here, as it's the last stop for LPG and I like to have plenty to go exploring tracks with. When you only get 5km/l, you can never have too much fuel.

The run up the Mountain's eastern track proved to be dry and easy to navigate, as there was absolutely none of the usual pea-soup fog present that usually envelopes the place. I had to check the GPS and make sure that we were on the right mountain. This just wasn't natural. We were making good progress and thought that we'd be in the house by about 0130 hours. That was a great plan, but it didn't turn out to be that easy, because as we came around one of the bends in the track a couple of kilometres short of the house, there was a tree blocking the track. And this was one MOTHER of a tree. To make things worse, it had spanned the entire width of the track, plus a good deal beyond either side, so there was no way we were going to be able to drive around it. This baby had to be dispatched.

It was 0100 hours by now, and we knew it was going to take a lot more than thirty minutes to get this job done, and that we weren't going to make it to the house by 0130 hours unless someone had brought along a helicopter in their luggage. So, chainsaws in hand, we went to work. It was kind of odd working there, in the pitch black, the sound of chainsaws disrupting the silence. What made it even stranger was that at the exact spot we were working, there was a strange odour, like wine gone bad. Looking around a bit, we found that there was a shallow bog of some kind in front of the fallen tree. It was what looked to be like mud, with a soft surface that wasn't more than a few centimetres in depth, but that was the source of this overpoweringly sugary, molasses type of smell. What it was apparently made of, we thought, was the sap from the tree that had fallen, and that the microbes and moisture had gotten to work on it. Whatever it was, you sure knew you weren't in the city any more.

Ah, well. What else are you going to do at two in the morning for fun? We kept on cutting. We managed to successfully cut out a section about two and a half metres across, and tried to push it out of the way. No luck, the thing weighed a tonne. The only way to get rid of it was to drag it out by brute force, so we got out a strap, wrapped it around the trunk as best we could, and rigged up a drag chain to the front of my truck. If things went well, I'd be able to drag it out of the way. This went well, and we were finally past the tree and on our way up to the house by around 0230 hours.

The photos below will show you, beloved readers, the dedication and altruistic nature of us here at 4WD BDSM Getaway! Weekend tours. You know that the only reason we put in such an effort to reach the house is so that you can have a Trip Report to read. The thought that ahead lay a bed, a fireplace, and the luxury of a formal dinner, being waited upon head and foot by a group of loyal (read: stranded, because there aren't any trains outta here) submissives never even entertained the merest possibility of crossing our minds. NOT.

 

Yep, just when you think you're nearly there, it's time to break out the chainsaws. This was one MOTHER of a tree. My little Jonsered chainsaw, the one that I had bought thinking that all it was going to end up doing was cutting up firewood, was the knife I had brought to a gun fight.

Using both chainsaws, we gradually cut the large trunk up into smaller pieces, but each one was still the size of a Mini. This was going to be hard work.

The centre section that we cut out was way too heavy to move, even with all of us pushing, so the only way this was going to get done was to drag it out. So out came the strap and the drag chain. I brought my truck up, and we attached the drag chain to the two front hooks under the chassis. A D-shackle joined the chain to the strap. Then it was time for everyone to stand back. By the way, that's no ordinary mud caking the front tyre - that was 100% pure jungle juice, from the smell of it.

Putting the truck in low-range and reversing gently, you could hear everything creaking. The trunk finally gave way. Fortunately, my recovery hooks didn't.

Keeping on the throttle, I finally managed to drag the entire thing down the track. My only concern was if the strap let go, it might "twang" my vehicle, but we didn't have much choice. It was either this or turn back. And perverts never give up.
At last... a gap we could drive through.

By the time we arrived at the house, it was nearly 0300 hours. G&C were basically in bed half asleep, but greeted us as we were transferring our provisions from the trucks into the entry. A bit of conversation took us onto the 0330 mark, and then we all crashed. There was no way anyone was getting up at the crack of dawn after making toothpicks just an hour ago.

 

Saturday, February 21:

The day started off with a glorious sunrise. At least, I thought it was glorious, because I had managed to lift the curtain in the bedroom by a millimetre, squint out at the daylight, and promptly drift right off to sleep again. The day was to prove unusually hot, and this would set the tone for the entire weekend.

A view looking over the rolling hills.
 
A skeletal form graces the landscape.
 
Looking down from the old track onto the current one (centre left)
 
A view from the top of the old track.

The morning was spent around the fireplace, with everyone just basically vegging out, as we were still tired from the night before. All the energy we had put into moving that tree needed to be recovered, and nothing was better than sitting around and chatting. F, a newcomer to the 4WD BDSM Getaway! Weekend tours, had struck up a conversation (of some length) with G. The rest of us drifted in and out of changing circles and mellowed.

Lunch came and went, and I decided to do a little bit of solo exploration and some photography, while the rest of the group stayed at the house and continued the arduous task of vegging out. Later in the afternoon, some of them would start to get organised and prepare for the dinner that lay ahead.

I set off down the western track. The hills were beautiful under the afternoon sun, and after I had taken some shots, decided to do a little bit of further exploration according to what I could see on the topographic maps on the GPS. It's amazing what the maps show, compared to what you can see now. From the maps, I could see that the small, overgrown trail that branched off the main track and up into the hill on my left was, at one point in time, the main track that went to the homestead.

I couldn't see where it went, but since when did that sort of thing stop me? I soon had the truck clambering over semi-hidden boulders literally the size of a small car, and you could hear them banging underneath the exhaust and suspension as the truck moved through the tall grass. The only inconvenience would be if the truck slid sideways off the track, which would bring you straight down over the edge by about 10 metres, and more than possibly dent the bodywork in the process. Even though there were moments where it did slide a bit, I had no plans on being inconvenienced, as the formal dinner was but a few hours away.

I stopped at the top of the track and admired the view. The current track was visible some 20 metres below me, and the vista was spectacular. It was late afternoon by now, and time to go back to the homestead.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch (I've waited all my life to say that), preparations were under way for the evening's dinner. A little while after I arrived back at the house, a few of us went to the barn and prepared it for the play party that was to follow.

The barn was soon ready, and before we knew it, it had become early evening, and it was time for the dinner to be held. The eating area had been prepared, and the table was set out on the rear deck. Our group was divided into 4 Dominants, and 5 submissives.

Once we were seated, and the main meal and wine served, the subbies retreated into the kitchen, where much frivolity and good food was had. Apparently, they had kept a bottle of good wine for themselves - WITHOUT asking permission to do so! This is something that will just have to be addressed next time. It was later revealed that they had, "after all, been the ones to do the work and deserved a reward," but this attitude is something that a good flogging should rectify. After the wine had been consumed, they pondered if they should "slip out" whilst we were on the verandah chatting! They actually debated driving back into town to see if they could find a night club or two!

This is, I would think, a damned good reason for keeping submissives away from wine - it obviously makes them take leave of their senses!

Just as two of them had decided that a ride around the property on the quad was in order, they were called for by us, and their plans of anarchy were placed on hold. We were impressed by how well they had prepared the dinner and how well they had served us, and told them so. It seemed to delight them, and we certainly enjoyed it from our perspective.

It's a good thing for the subbies, though, that we had not suspected the mutinous thoughts they had harboured in the kitchen, earlier that evening. I think that some of the (misguided) discontent is directly attributable to the outlawed Norti Subbies Union.

I must say, though, that the the two male submissives worked tirelessly as waiters during the night, jumping at every little tap on the wine glass.

Women subbies, take note!

Nothing like a candlelight dinner with good wine.
 
Little did we know that the kitchen concealed a Fifth Column...

The dinner started to wind down a little after 2200 hours, and it was a warm night. A couple of us watched as C tossed some food leftovers to a fox that had apparently become a regular nightly visitor to the property over the past week or so. Although he was cautious about approaching too close to the house, I still managed to get a photo of him as he prowled the yard.

By around 2230 hours, dinner was well and truly over, and it was now time for some of the group to make their way to the barn for some play. The rest stayed in the house and relaxed. After the evening's activities had drawn to a close at around midnight, it was time to go back to the house and unwind. The fireplace, as usual, made for a great place to sit around and chat. We more or less had turned in by about 0100 hours - it had been a hot day, and everybody was pretty well tired.

 

This fox had apparently become a regular visitor over the past few nights.

 

Sunday, February 22:

Today was spent relaxing around the fireplace and taking in the views from the rear deck, which were quite spectacular as the sunshine revealed the surrounding hills in all their detail. There was none of the usual mid-afternoon fog, either. We were so used to leaving in a pea-soup fog for the trip down the side of the mountain, that the place felt decidedly unnatural. Leaving by late afternoon, we said our farewells to G&C, and headed off along the western track for home. This weekend was different, being the first time we've held a formal dinner out in the bush, but I think that a new tradition has been born this weekend: a formal D/s dinner to celebrate each anniversary of the 4WD BDSM Getaway! Weekends.

I look forward to doing this again, at around the same time, next year.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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