Scribbles Abroad

With the surf waning and the weather sticking true to Gold Coast form we figured a trip inland to the pastures was in order.  Cam had been here once before, just inland from Currumbin.  With the amount of pastures inland it wasn’t fully necessary to get back to that exact spot.  But like a pig hunting for truffles, Cams nose was keen and the hunt for the infamous Gold Coast Gold Tops was initiated.  Just like in Hawaii, shitty surf, a little rain, a bunch of cows, and sun creates these true little gems.

Although the mushrooms in Australia are a heck of a lot different looking with thick stems and caps that have large golden centers and purple rims, they pack a similar punch.  The ones we look for In Hawaii have the skinny stems with a small tannish/grey/brown cap.  Australia mushis look a heck lot more like the ones we drew in our notebooks in school.

The hunt was fun as it usually is as long as you find some.  Being skunked is no fun but never the end of the world.  At first we weren’t finding any boomers.  Cam was being a superpoos, he was afraid to walk off the road tracks because of snakes.  The Hawaiians being either ridiculously brave or naive, I’d guess a bit of both, started trampling.  To avoid the snakes we got sticks and led them in front of us to scare away any potential death serpents.  Once we started trampling into the deeper grass the mushis revealed themselves.  When hunting, you are rewarded if you look for the cow pies that are not fresh with long grass surrounding them.  As Cam watched from the dirt road and sang Johnny Farnum songs, we scored.

We found a bunch but not too many.  Only taking what you need spreads the wealth and the spores for another day.  We wrapped up our bounty in an empty lollie bag, then wrapped it in a used subway sandwich wrapper and then stashed them while we headed to the beach to catch a low tide surf at the Superbank.  That night we made some tea.  We started by bringing some water to a boil, then turned the heat to low and threw the shrooms in with tea bags and a hell of a lot of honey.  With the pot covered we relaxed and let the potion come alive.  We strained the concoction and emptied the juice into empty Tooheys New bottles.  That night they became iced tea and were ready for the beach the next day.

The next day after a morning surf we took the fruits of our labor down to Mermaid beach right in front of Cams house.  There we set up a beautiful shelter/nest made from a blue tarp, a broom, a mop, roof tie downs, and my slippahs.   If you take rope, wrap um around da slippah, dig one hole, bury da slippah,……she go (see photos).  A cooler full of beer, tea, an inflatable boogie board, Louise and my homeboy Campbell, let the trip continue.  We slowly sipped our tea and once we felt the effects we chugged just a little more.  It came to about 3 cups each, I think it needed more honey.

It was a great afternoon.  Everyone was happy with the ocean being a comforting relief from the hole in the ozone layer.  I swear I was purple by the end of the trip in Australia or was I just seeing things?  We took turns on the inflatable boogie board and body surfed while we took turns.  The inflatable was so much fun and the non-stop laughing while riding it gave us a great workout.  Duckdiving was frivolous because of the buoyancy so you try to go over the waves.  Every time you hit a big wave the board/mattress bends in half and slams you in the face.  I’d just crack up laughing my ass off hoping I didn’t have a bloody nose.  It was actually really easy to catch waves with the inflatable.  Once on the wave it would spit you out in front of it like a pea out of a pea pod, then the wave would catch up with you and spit you out in front or down the line again.  I have to get one of these.

Floating out in the ocean with no one out there with you really lets you notice the rips and currents moving through the waters.  I once surfed in SD under the same spell and ended up surfing from 5pm to around 9pm.  The cold was no drama, the dark not a hindrance, and the waves seemed to be cooperating with me.  Its as though you are on a closer level to the ocean and can better understand what it is going to do next.  I remember flying down the line on a chest high wave on my 5’9″ Mccallum, the street lights from the Jetty parking lot were reflecting off the glassy wall of the wave and I was just absorbing the surreal experience.  Similar to that night, the current would begin to rip me out to sea and right when a inkling of worry would roll in so would a set.  I’d catch the wave and the absorption of mother nature would occur.

We hung out at the beach all arvo (afternoon in OZ and NZ).  But the sun, as it always seems to do, decided to go down.  We took the shelter down and when we pulled up my slippahs that were buried underground they were all leppo.  But since then they have gained their form back and are comfortable on my feet as I write.  The day was a success and to end it all we rented the classic “Half Baked”.  That evening we passed out in front of the TV.

Random pics from last days in OZ

Surfing with the Rat Tail

A storm rolling in

Cams Birthday Cake