The Blue Duck

Papa has gone to Omeo to paddle the Mitta Mitta gorge. We depart the farm, with the aim of joining him for dinner. It's a beautiful, sunny day, and we enjoy the drive through the Latrobe valley. I point out the old locomotive in Trafalgar and the tall smoking chimneys of Morwell. Sabina marvels at the train line, which runs alongside the freeway for most of the way.

At Sale we do a stop to watch the TTT Showjumping. Sabina has to pat every horse, and every dog, and she has to drink the obligatory iced chocolate. Then we're off to Bairnsdale. Sale, Bairnsdale, only half an hour between them, right? Only if you're travelling at a 130km/h. Sheesh! I look at the clock. We're running late.

At precisely 4:18pm we leave the Bairnsdale Shell and head for Omeo. Surely, it's just an hour to Omeo, right? Wrong! I pass the "OM 110" sign, and shift in my seat. "Sh ... sh ... sugar", I breathe, "we no longer have to make it to the 5pm pick up at Hinnomunjie, but at this rate, we won't even be at the Bluck Duck at 6!" I step on it, and overtake the truck. Sabina is asking a 1000 questions; I watch for forgotten turn off signs.

The road dips, I indicate and accelerate. "Mama, not so fast! I don't want to go fast! Mama!". I choose deafness and overtake four cars in one shot. Bruthen lies peacefully ahead. Sabina calms down and returns to the 1000 questions. "Sabina, Mama can't answer your questions right now. I'm looking for a turn off". Sabina's questions become louder in protest. The quiet town is littered with too many tourist friendly signs. Buchan caves this way, snow fields that way, caves this way, snow fields ... I take the turn off. Within metres we're in the quiet of the Australian bush at sunset.

I overtake the pancake house car with trailer, and keep eating the kilometres. It's been a while since I've driven a winding road at speed and the first few corners catch me out. "Wheee!" I say to Sabina. "Wheee!". I re-group on the straight, and take the next turn with a bit more professionalism. Our car is automatic, but I use the gears regardless. Third, second, third, drive. "Oh look Sabina, Mulocky Creek". Third, drive, third. "And here, Bulocky Creek", I point out every sign, every feature, everything except the speed. Drive, third, second, third, second, third, drive.

We hit the Tambo, and the road straightens. I pass the white Subaru. "Zilber car, Mama. Zilber", Sabina corrects me. Then we slow down for Ensay. The sun is edging lower and in addition to changing gears, I keep changing the position of my sun visor. Down, up, down. Use the hand to block out the sun. Then third, second, third, drive. We drive. Oh, boy, do we drive. I pass another car and think "you're being passed by another Mr Men support vehicle". But that was another time. Another life. Deep down, I laugh a mad man's laugh.

"Mama I'm tired". We pass through Swifts Creek. "I know, but Omeo is just over the top of that hill." It's true. Not far now. I stay focused, and at precisely 5:36pm we roll over the hill into Omeo. I stop at the T-intersection. "Look, Sabina, that's Spirit isn't it?" I point out the buckskin right in front of us. "Yes, Mama, it's Spirit". That's the only break we get.

I turn right and soon we're out of Omeo. At the Hinnomunjie bridge turn off I hesitate. I look at the clock, shake my head, the boys are probably enjoying happy our by now. We drive up the hill. "Look Sabina, there's Rain." (Rain is a horse from the Spirit movie). "Where Mama?" "I'll show you tomorrow." "Aha. Mama it's a long way." "Yes", I answer and re-focus on the corner. The road is narrower here, the edge perilous. "Mama I'm tired". "I know sweetie." "Mama, it's a long way". Well I guess it's better than a constant "are we there yet". "How about I put on the fixing song?". "Yeah!", the little voice cheers up for a second. Midnight Oil sings out. I take another corner. The music is lost on me. "Mama, it's a long way".

On another turn I glimpse the river, the rapids. Memories rush back. Time shifts. Henry is sitting next to me, and we're on our way to yet another Winter Classic change over. We pass the sweeping turn of the Black Duck. The road keeps winding. I remember passing another support crew. "You're being passed by another Mr Men support vehicle", I laughed then. I laugh now. That mad man's laugh. On the CD, Peter Garrett laugh's the same laugh. I shudder and return to the present.

The little settlement that is the Blue Duck Hotel comes into view. "Look Sabina, we're here. We're at the Blue Duck". "Is that the Blue Duck, Mama?". "Yes!". "Yay! We're here! We made it! We made it!", celebrates Sabina. I stop the car, and turn around "Did you think we were going to just keep driving forever?". "Yes, Mama".

We park in front of the log cabin. There is no sight of Russell's van. I grab some grapes, and a little hand, and head down to the pub. When I open the door the warm atmosphere hits me so hard I need to steady myself. I feel like a long lost daughter coming home. The white (or maybe silver) haired man smiles as he gives me the key to the cabin. "Are you with the paddling boys?", he asks. "Yes".

Sabina insists that we sit down at a table to eat the grapes. She sits, while I stand over her in anticipation. "You sit here", she points to a chair. Gladly. I take up her offer, just before my knees buckle underneath me. When the grapes are almost finished, we head back up to the cabin. The van rolls in. So does the lightening. Soon Sabina is being hoisted up by three happy paddlers.

Later on, we head back to the pub for dinner. A steak like that I haven't seen for a very long time. We drink beer and reminisce. The lightening gets closer and eventually the rain thunders on the tin roof.