Oberon – Jenolan Weekend
20-21st May 2006

Written by Bernie Clifton

The trio of vehicles of Max, Dean and Bernie left Oberon Tourist Information Centre around 10am, heading south to Herve’s property at Shooters Hill, there to set up overnight camp.

Twenty minutes later we were warmly met by family Maurin. Tents erected and personal needs attended to, Herve suggested an afternoon ‘cruise’ to and through the Abercrombie River National Park with the promise of some moderate and scenic 4x4 activity. Having visited there five years ago, I had fond memories and was looking forward to a fun ‘arvo’.

Max declined to go as his canine companions were at odds with NPWS policy. Probably had not been naturalized as native residents of Australia or something like that. Credit to Max for being environmentally responsible. Anyway, the dogs were having a ball on the property and we didn’t have the heart to tell them what they would be missing.

Twenty odd kms later we entered the park where Herve remembered that he had no maps, but he did have GPS. Undeterred, with mobile phone, he imaged the sign at the park entrance. Shouldn’t get detoured now.

Let me say that my nickname from way back amongst my 4x4 driving friends is ‘Bostick Bernie’ in honour of a very effective brand of glue, and this moniker has ‘stuck’ with me as it were. Since I have not been a frequent participant in LROC trips (due to competing obligations and not a reflection on LROC) this reputation of mine was not yet apparent. But I didn’t waste much time.

The first reasonable climb on a gravelly surface began with a sharp right turn. Disco 3 barely paused in ascending followed by ‘Duck 2’. I almost made it before I lost all momentum and came to an embarrassing halt spinning front wheels whilst rear wheels stuttered. Fred radioed that maybe I hadn’t fully engaged the centre diff but I doubted it. After each new effort I got to practice my stall reverse descents and got them about right at the fourth attempt. Anyway I reversed far enough back to get a flying start and proved that momentum can compensate at times for not fully engaging centre diff lock.

Now that I got the hang of it we made good time wandering around the park and admiring the many vistas through the dust. During a steepish descent to “The Beach" campsite, I noticed an unusual sound emanating from the engine bay. At the bottom it proved to be the new top radiator hose which was being sliced by the waterpump pulley. This didn’t quite seem right. Gaffer tape, 4 litres of coolant (to replace that which had emptied on me as I fussed under the car releasing the wounded hose) and trusty fencing wire to the rescue. I am always prepared.

Continuing on, the noise returned as we again descended. The offending pulley had decided that fencing wire was not about to prevent it being intimate with the taped water hose, and thus it had slid forward to meet the hose. Unfortunately the fan belt spun off and shredded itself in protest. Now Fred’s engineering talents came to the fore and with much expertise the belt was freed from the fan’s embrace and still intact was thinned to half width and replaced on all pulleys, well almost all. Replacement fan belt? I am not always prepared.

After 40 minutes, we (Fred) had worked out how to shift the adjuster pulley by removing it and then putting it back but in true “Bostick” form managed to strip the thread in the process. Didn’t matter anyway because in attempting to limp out the engine spat out the remnant fan belt, the adjuster pulley and most of the fan blades. At this time Fred advised that perhaps we should tow out. Good thinking ’99.

We still had about 20 minutes of daylight which coincidentally enough was exactly half of the kms needed to travel to Herve’s place and since he knew the way, he got the honour of towing Duck 2. I, in appreciation of this gesture, offered my snatch strap. Duly affixed, we set off. Now let me say at this point that I was impressed with the Disco 3’s strength and grunt but faced with many steep climbs, I powered Duck 2 for short bursts to assist on the tough bits. Downhill was interesting. Duck 2 dead-engined with no power steering or brakes wanted to get intimate with the rear of Herve’s Disco 3 at every descent. Standing on the brake pedal whilst pulling on the handbrake as hard as possible just about did the trick.

Then Fred radioed that better to put Duck 2 in gear and descend on compression which helped Disco 3 to control descent speeds. That’s why Fred is an advanced skills trainer I guess.

The terrain traversed in tow is spectacular, as far as I can remember. I say this because I saw none of it, due to the copious quantities of dust I was swallowing plus the arrival of night plus the inability of my headlights to penetrate the aforementioned dust plus the concentrating on keeping the snatch strap taut plus alternating between freewheeling on tow, ignition on the move to power up the steeper bits, ignition off and engage low gear to descend off power.

My lovely wife, Chris cannot describe the scenery either because she had her eyes closed mostly. At one careless point the strap gave up but we retied it and set off again.

To cut a long story short, we managed the 40 kms in about 4 hours. I was too busy behind the wheel to appreciate what a terrific group I was with. Dean and Reece, Fred and Ros followed behind always ready to assist if and when needed. Herve risked damage to his new Disco to make sure that the LROC tradition of leaving no-one behind was continued.

We eventually returned tired, dusty, hungry. After a tasty meal around the campfire and some liquid refreshment, much conversation about the relative merits and demerits of Discos and Defenders and some meandering philosophizing ensued. Thus the end of a long and interesting day.

Sunday dawned bright and foggy in reverse order whereupon I was informed that the spraycan of olive oil that greased last night’s cooking pot was in fact flyspray which no doubt explained the fragrant aftertaste of the pasta.

The ‘gang’ were heading to Jenolan State Forest to play for the day. Duck 2 would be going as far as Oberon with them, again behind Disco 3. Dropped off at the visitors centre whilst two new participants were to arrive, Fred enquired as to my last LROC trip. For the record, I had every intention of doing the advanced recovery course with him some time ago but for the fact that I shredded a timing belt when the spot welds on the timing pulley flanges gave way just as I was nearing Mt Tomah en route. Bostick Bernie strikes again.

Before wishing them well as they left for the Jenolan State Forest I did mention, in response to what happened to Duck 2’s predecessor, Duck 1, that she rolled on her roof about 7 years ago at the JENOLAN STATE FOREST. At this, Fred, Dean and Herve seemed to leave more quickly than usual.

As a sidenote the ‘cruiser and trailer that transported Duck 2 to Oberon NRMA was the same combo that took Duck 1 to Oberon all those years ago. Karma?