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    quokka
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Eruption - 4. Erupt Ch 4

“You have a Cessna I believe?” I commented, “Yes, Lara mentioned that to you I presume, did she tell you that we own and manage two other stations? Yambah Station is on our northern boundary and Bushy Park, which is on the North East boundary of Yambah,” Andrew said.

“How big is the area in total with all three stations?” I asked, “Approximately 5,500 square km or 1.4 million acres in total,” Fiona replied. “Wow, that is quite a big property then,” I commented, “Not really, there are far bigger properties around the country, and we rely a lot on our underground water supply to keep our stock going,” Andrew commented.

“I will have your packed lunches ready to go before you leave in the morning. I am presuming you want a 6 am start?” Fiona asked her husband who just smiled and nodded his head yes, before she left the room. “Well now, I am informed that you are a bit of a prodigy in the area of education and that you have already completed three years of university studies?” Andrew said to me.

“That is correct, three years in the field of Environmental Science and two years in the field of Psychology,” I replied, “Wow, that must be quite a challenge for you then, or maybe not. Anyway, we will be taking the Cessna tomorrow, we will head south, and from there we will follow the boundary along the south and east sides, till we get up to Bushy Park Homestead, where we will stop, so I can speak to the manager, before we head south for Yambah Station for some lunch,” Andrew announced to me.

“Sounds good to me, you are the boss, I’m just to city tourist,” I responded smiling, which made Andrew laugh. “I think you are a lot more than that my friend, and what you don’t know is that we have known your aunt for quite a few years, as she and my wife Fiona are old university colleagues,” Andrew announced.

“That would explain why she highly recommended that I visit this place,” I replied. The following morning, I was up at 5.30 am, and I made my way to the kitchen, where Fiona was busy making breakfast, with Andrew already seated and eating toast and scrambled eggs, and drinking tea.

“Same as the boss please Ms Fiona,” I said as I sat down at the table, and a minute later a plate was placed in front of me, with toast, scrambled eggs, bacon, fried tomato and sausages,” and I looked up with my mouth opened in surprise, when Andrew laughed.

“I had already eaten most of my breakfast before you arrived,” he said to me, and I joined in the laughter, as a hot cup of black tea was placed in front of me. After a rather large breakfast, I followed Andrew outside, where we climbed into the Land Rover and set off as the first signs of a new day began to show to the east.

Two minutes later, Andrew turned off the main access road, where I could see a large aircraft hanger, and we stopped on the side of the hanger. “I will do the external checks if you can start on the cockpit checks,” Andrew said to me, as we walked into the hanger, and Andrew flicked a switch to turn on the lights to show the Cessna parked in the middle of the hanger.

As Andrew entered the plane, I began to climb out of the main pilot seat, when Andrew placed his hand on my shoulder, “You are in the seat, I am sure you are quite capable of taxiing to the runway and taking off, just remember that it is a dirt runway, 600 metres long,” Andrew said as he secured the door and sat in the secondary seat, and secured his seat belt.

“Air Traffic Control Alice Springs, this is Bond Springs. Pre-flight checks complete, requesting clearance to take off in a southern direction, before heading south-east then north to Yambah and Bushy Springs Stations, at a height of 1200 feet, over,” I heard Andrew say into his microphone, once he had the headset in place.

“Roger that, Bond Spring Cessna, you are cleared for take-off, no other traffic in your area as long as you remain east of the highway, over” came a response in our headphones, and Andrew nodded to me, as I began the starting up process, before taxiing out of the hanger, and along the track to the nearby airfield.

Andrew gave me instructions on the direction to go once we were in the air, and I was amazed at how red and bare the ground looked below us, as I was given instructions to change course to due north. “That is our South East boundary down there, and we are now following our Eastern boundary,” Andrew said to me.

“What was the river that we crossed over shortly after taking off?” I asked Andrew over the mic, “That is the Todd River, the same river that goes through the middle of Alice Springs,” Andrew replied. It looks to be very rugged down there with all those hills,” I commented.

“That is why we rely heavily on choppers for mustering, but we also have several staff who also do a fair amount of horse riding too,” Andrew replied, which surprised me a bit. “What do you do when you have some really bad seasons, do you destock, and just keep your breeding stock?” I asked.

“Yes, we do destock, but we don’t sell the stock, we just relocate them to my brother’s property, which is in Western Australia,” Andrew replied. “Wow. That must be quite a hike for the cattle?” I stated. “It is, but we break the road-train journey up into three sections, to make it better for the cattle.

At Ngaanyatjarra, which is a distance of 780 kilometres, we stop to unload the cattle, so they can have water and food, and stretch their legs a bit, as we have specially made cattle yards there for that purpose, once loaded back on the trucks, it is just 10 kilometres to the NT/WA border, and another 800 kilometres to the next stop at Laverton, where the stock are unloaded again to water and feed.

The final leg just south of Yalgoo, is 710, kilometres long, where my brother’s station is located, where they are immediately unloaded and taken directly to yards for feed and water and to settle a few days before being moved out to a paddock,” Andrew informed me.

“Sounds like your cattle have done that trip quite a few times,” I commented, “They have, and sometimes we transport them to my brother’s station because we can get better prices for the cattle, once they have been fattened up a bit,” Andrew replied.

“How big is his property at this place?” I asked, “He has a farm of 4,000 acres that is his main home near Eneabba, and a further 240,000 acres at Badja Station, which is located 248 kilometres to the northeast of his home,” Andrew said.

I got to see a lot of the station from the air, which was amazing, and when we arrived at Bushy Park Station, there was a vehicle waiting beside the airstrip, as we came to a stop near the end of the runway. “Very nicely done, you are an excellent pilot,” Andrew said to me, as we climbed out of the aircraft, and met the station manager, Doug.

“Are we still doing the muster tomorrow?” Doug asked Andrew, “Hell, I nearly forgot all about that, thank goodness I had already booked the cattle trucks,” Andrew said in reply, before turning to me. “I think we have a new recruit for the muster tomorrow Doug, he flew the plane all the way up here just now,” he said to Doug, smiling as he said it.

“That is good to hear, but I think one crazy pilot is enough for this muster, if you can ride a horse, you are welcome to join us in the muster,” Doug said to me, as he stepped away from his boss, who just laughed. “Cheeky bastard, I will have to find a real dirty job for you, for that comment Doug,” Andrew said to him. “Anything, as long as it is not in a plane with you, boss,” Doug said and both men laughed.

“Just ignore him. I’m not that bad a pilot. Now Carson, have you ridden a horse before?” Andrew asked me, “Yes, but only in the summer when the weather is decent. It gets too cold for the horses in the winter, so they stay rugged up and in the barn over the colder months,” I replied.

“Good, we will put you on Winston, he is a good calm horse, and I think he will be perfect for you,” Andrew said to me. “Winston?” I inquired, “Yeah, my wife likes to name the horses after British and Australian Prime Ministers,” Andrew said, and I couldn’t help but laugh at that.

After lunch, we set off again, this time Andrew took the controls, so I could have a better look at the station country below. After a short stop at Yambah Station, we headed back to Bond Spring Station, where we had a bit of a rough landing, before taxiing to the aircraft hanger.

While Andrew headed to the office to do some work, I headed over to the stables to meet the horse I would be riding tomorrow, and as I walked in, six heads appeared from the stalls. “Well hello, all of you, I wonder which one I will be riding tomorrow,” I said aloud to them.

“That will probably be Winston,” I voice said, which made me jump in fright, and a young man stepped out from the tack room. “Sorry if I made you jump, I guess you were not expecting a response,” the young man said as he approached. “Yeah, but all good, I am Carson, just a visitor, but the boss has invited me to join in the muster tomorrow, and yes he said Winston would be the horse I am riding,” I said as we shook hands.

“Nice to meet you, Carson, interesting accent you have there? Is it Canadian? My name is Jordan by the way,” the young man said to me, speaking rather quickly, and I noticed him try and discreetly take a full look at me, “Yes, I am from Canada, but I am actually Australian-born, from Adelaide. Both of my parents are Australian, as is my younger brother, who was born in Alice Springs, they just live and work in New Brunswick in eastern Canada,” I replied.

After meeting Winston, who was a purebred Australian stock horse, Jordon suggested that I take him for a ride so that he could get used to me, so he headed to the tack room, returning moments later, with a saddle, and tack gear, and we quickly had Winston ready for a ride.

“Just follow the boundary of the homestead paddock, that should be enough for you both, as it is about seventy acres in area,” Jordon suggested, and I nodded my head, as he handed me a helmet, which I accepted and put on before mounting, and adjusting the stirrups, until I was happy they are the right length.

Following the fence line, we just walked for the first fifteen minutes, before squeezing Winston’s belly softly with my legs, and he was soon trotting at a nice pace, after another ten minutes, I squeezed again and we were soon in a nice smooth canter, which is the pace that I found the most comfortable.

By the time I returned to the stables, I noticed a few people watching me from the homestead, as I dismounted, and walked Winston around a short while to allow him to cool down a bit, before taking the saddle and cloth off, and giving him a good brush down.

“You did very well there, you are a much better horseman than I expected,” Andrew said to me, as I was putting Winston back into his stall, and I gave him a biscuit of hay to munch on. “Winston is a great horse, and yes it was an awesome ride. I hadn’t ridden in a couple of months, as it was approaching Winter when I left home, and even a lot of Autumn can get quite cold,” I replied.

The next morning at 5 am, I was woken up, and after a quick wash, I dressed and headed to the dining room for breakfast. “Good morning, ready for a very full day of hard work?” Fiona said as she placed a plate of a fully cooked breakfast in front of me.

“Good morning, we are leaving in half an hour, so eat up, as you and Jordon have a 90-minute drive up to Yambah with the horse truck,” Andrew said to me, and I managed to eat everything on the plate, plus a slice of toast and two cups of tea.

“You will find Jordon getting the horses loaded up on the truck, I will be taking the chopper up to Yambah, so I will see you up there,” Andrew said to me as I stood, and I thanked Fiona for breakfast, and she handed me a lunch box, thermos and a water bottle, before I grabbed my hat and headed outside, where it was still pitch black outside.

As I approached the stables, I walked around the side, where the loading ramp was located, just as I heard a gate close. “Are you there Jordon?” I called out, “Yeah mate, just finished loading, Winston has a touch of Colic this morning, so he is staying behind, so you will be riding Deakin instead,” Jordon replied, as he appeared from the darkness.

“Hop in, we are ready to go, as soon as Marcus decides to get his butt into gear,” Jordon said before letting out an ear-piercing whistle. “Right oh, I am right here, no need for that, this early in the morning,” came a voice in the darkness.

“Marcus, this is Carson, he is a guest staying here for a few days, who the boss roped in to assist with the muster,” Jordon said making the introductions when he appeared, and we shook hands,, before he opened the passenger door and climbed in, taking with him a large cane basket with him.

I followed, and Jordon hopped in on the driver’s side. “Did you remember to bring our grub?” Jordon asked as he settled into his seat, “Yes, I have it all, plus some extras, for snacks. Did you remember the saddle bags?” Marcus replied, “Yes, behind my seat,” Jordon said as he started up the truck.

“Where is this mob going to, that we are rounding up today?” I asked, “I’m not sure, the boss hasn’t said, but I am guessing probably to market in Darwin,” Jordon replied. “Are you American?” Marcus asked me, and I frowned, which Jordon noticed and laughed.

“Never ask a Canadian if he is American, as it is an insult,” Jordon informed Marcus, “Oh, sorry,” Marcus said with his head down, and I barely heard his response.

“It is ok, you weren’t to know. I am actually Australian, but because my parents work and live in Canada, that is why I have the accent,” I said to Marcus, who smiled and nodded.

X
Copyright July 2021 Preston Wigglesworth All Rights are Reserved
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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