When times get tough down here (like when the spa is out of action getting serviced, or the FTO says no you cannot climb that peak without ropes because you will fall to your death yada yada) I am forever grateful for the single greatest wonder to have come into my life - Lainey, my troopy.
On the mainland, Lainey brings wholesome fulfilment to my every day (and it’s almost endearing how her fuel consumption drains my bank account). Lainey keeps my headspace in check. With no turbo, there’s no chance to rush, so behind those semis climbing up the hill I will sit, and I will enjoy it. Who needs underground carparks with their height limits, when you can park three kilometres away and enjoy the fresh air on that walk to Woolies. (It does help though when there are no carparks and you can make your own by driving over anything).
So, last year Lainey and I ventured around Aus for a few months and in October we landed in Hobart for training with the Australian Antarctic Program. I heard whispers of another troopy owner within our Mawson team and after Bryce and I met, and Bryce met Lainey, he knew he had to fly back and drive his troopy from NT to Tassie (which he then did, in three days, like a completely normal person).
With two troopies, a paddock basher Corolla and an adventurous Mawson cohort assembling, the Tassie camping, hiking and rafting (in HMAS inflatable death trap) adventures were on. And on. And on. And with the ship’s delayed departure, they continued on again.
Our weekend warrior squadron ventured coast to coast, to beaches, forests, lakes, caves, and mountain tops. Hiking, surfing, riding, paddling, cooking up storms in the troopy ‘kitchens’ and sleeping under the stars when the Tassie summer sky finally fell dark.
We eventually said goodbye to our troopies at the storage facility (I’m not crying, you’re crying), landed at Mawson station and the camping and hiking adventures continued. Only the camping is now glamping in huts, so we don’t perish sleeping in a vehicle because we’re in Antarctica.
We even have a third troopy owner on station now, after he bought one to pick up upon return to Aus! Sometimes in the depth of our troopy talk about what rooftop conversion is superior, or how best to make a folding table for the back door (does it need a condiment department, is that excessive etc), others will chime in about their Patrol, or Landrover, or how you really can’t go wrong with a good quality sedan (God give me strength). We smile and nod, saying “cool cool cool”, knowing they will never understand what it’s like to give the troopy salute to fellow troopy drivers, or to be safe up in your pop-top bed, out of reach of a Tassie Devil screeching its head off beside you at midnight.
When my fingers and toes are numb, and my words aren’t coming out of my mouth like they should because my face is frozen, and I can’t imagine ever being warm again, I just think of those blissful warm evenings in the troopy, lying on top of my bed (not in it) with a broken fan (because the wiring has disconnected itself again somehow) and the window cracked (but not cracked too much because of the damn mozzies).
While I am certainly not wishing my time away down here in this magnificent place, I cannot wait to be reunited with Lainey. Oh the places we will go, oh the money she will cost me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
