Jump to content
  • Join Gay Authors

    Join us for free and follow your favorite authors and stories.

    quokka
  • Author
  • 1,847 Words
  • 2,028 Views
  • 4 Comments
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. 

Country Retreat - 5. Kayaks and Horses

After helping to clean up the kitchen, Rizen and I went to my bedroom, “Get changed into some boardshorts, as we are going to get wet,” I said to my friend, “Swimming in the river? Is that safe?” he asked me, “Sure it is, our family has swum in the river tons of times when we came here to visit,” I replied smiling. I quickly changed and headed out to the storage shed that was at the back of the garage, opening the separate side door, where I found a small trailer, with two kayaks attached, along with PFDs and oars.

I pulled the trailer out of the shed, and closed the doors, before going around to the front of the house, where the quad bike was parked. On hearing me start up the bike, Rizen was soon outside, I motioned for him to climb on, and we rode around to the side of the house where I had left the trailer. “Kayaks, awesome, I learnt how to use them at camp, they are great fun to use,” Rizen said to me, as I climbed off the bike to attach the trailer to the bike tow hitch and inserted the clip to keep it secure.

Once back on the bike, we headed to the location of the second jetty, which has the walkway completed, but the jetty has not been installed, but for now, it is still easy to launch the kayaks from there. “How much river frontage do you have on this farm?” Rizen asked me as we unloaded the kayaks, after putting the Pfd jackets on. “Just under three kilometres on both sides of the river,” I replied smiling.

“Wow, that’s awesome, and are there other walkways to the river like this?” my friend asked, as we carried the kayaks and paddles to the river about twenty metres away. “There is a walkway and jetty downstream near the south-west boundary, where there is a fallen tree over the river, just below that to stop the public from entering the property from the river.

About a kilometre upstream from here is where a floating bridge will be built to allow easier bike and stock access to the farm on the other side of the river, and the last jetty will be a kilometre up from there near the Eastern boundary,” I informed Rizen as we lowered the kayaks in the water and climbed in. “Let us head downstream first, and see what it's like, this is the first time that I will be seeing the whole length of the river from the water,” I said to Rizen as we turned downwards and started paddling.

About twenty-five minutes later as we rounded the long corner, we saw the fallen tree over the river, and it was quite a large tree, which I hadn’t expected, with only about twenty centimetres of clearance under the tree, which was not enough room for the kayaks and us to fit under it. “Hey, see that overhanging large branch, if we hung a rope down off it and attached a small drum to it, that could be a good rounding marker, so we can race around and head back up steam,” I commented as I took a few pictures of the area with my phone.

“A kayaking race, that sounds awesome, I can't wait until we try it out,” Rizen replied. “Yeah, if we start from where we started, and round this marker, then head upstream to the other boundary and back here again, that will make it about…” I said as I tried to work out the distance. “Six kilometres in total,” Rizen said adding up the distance quicker than I could. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” I responded, as we turned and slowly headed upstream, stopping briefly at the lower jetty to take some more photos from the river and the jetty.

Not long after we passed our starting point, we came across a few low branches over the river, that we had to duck under, as well as the Gas Pipeline that crosses over the river, which we had to duck under. “Gramps and I already have plans to clear away any low overhanging branches like this,” I commented as we continued paddling before I stopped when I spotted the steel picket on the riverbank, “Why did you stop?” Rizen asked me after he realised that I had stopped, and he came back to where I was.

“This is the location of the bridge,” I announced, as I carefully scanned the area and smiled, seeing that it was a perfect location, and I took a few more pictures before we continued. About half an hour later, I spotted the last steel picket post and the boundary fence, as I looked around the area and took some more photos. “Another perfect overhanging tree for a rounding marker,” Rizen commented as he pointed to the large overhanging branch located about fifteen metres from the boundary fence, which does cross over the river at this location.

The moment I put my phone away, Rizen called out, “Race you back to the jetty,” as he laughed and raced away, “Hey, that is not fair,” I replied, as I turned and chased after him. The low branches managed to slow Rizen down a bit, while I just leaned right back and glided under them and continued paddling, managing to catch up most of the distance, but he reached the jetty a few seconds ahead of me, and he smiled at me broadly.

“Racing is supposed to be a fair and equal sport, which means no cheating Mr!” I said to Rizen as a water fight with the aid of the paddles began. Eventually, we stopped and climbed out of the kayaks before pulling them out of the water and carrying them to the quad bike and trailer, where we found Gramps leaning against the Ute smiling. “Did you have fun boys?” he asked as we towelled down to dry off.

“We sure did Mr… Gramps, it was awesome,” Rizen replied, hesitating for a moment, as he wasn’t quite sure what his surname could be, and I chuckled at this. “It is the same as mine, Kingston,” I said to my friend, “But Gramps is fine with me too,” my grandfather added, and I saw Rizen smile and nod his head in understanding. “We worked it out that if we use the overhanging branches to hang a rope, with a drum on the end, as a rounding marker, at both ends, we can have a good kayaking race, that from here to the bottom and back then up to the top and back is a total of almost six kilometres,” I said to Gramps.

“I have plenty of empty five-litre plastic containers that you could use, just put some water in them to weigh it down a little bit,” Gramps announced, “That would be great, thanks. Just as well I have a great schoolmate who is a great monkey up a tree,” I responded smiling. “Hey, I didn’t say that I would do that?” Rizen reacted, “No, I just volunteered you for the job,” I replied and laughed.

After loading up the kayaks onto the trailer, along with the PFDs and paddles, we headed back to the house, where we hosed down the kayaks, paddles and PFDs before pushing the trailer back into the shed. Once we had changed into work clothes, we headed out to the stables and yards, where we saddled up the horses to go for a ride. firstly just trotting down to the front gate, where I smiled as I the horse around.

“Race you,” I called out as I gave my horse a light kick and shouted “Haa” and we bolted forward, in a full gallop, and I laughed out loud and realised that the two gates between here and the sheds may be closed, even though they were left open yesterday, so after passing the house, I watched closely at the approaching fence line and smiled when I saw the gate was still open, as I leaned down and patted the horse neck, and continued.

Happily, I saw that the second gate was open too, but I slowed the horse down to a canter as I approached the sheds, not sure if anyone was in there working, a I rounded the two bends, following the main track that heads to the main road on our northern boundary.

The third and fourth gates were also open so I kept going at a canter, looking back to see how far back Rizen was. I was a little surprised to see that he wasn’t that far behind me, but I stayed at the same pace, not wanting to push my horse too hard, and on seeing the front gate, I slowed down to a trot, stopping just a few metres from the gate, where I jumped off and patted my horse, and lead him 80 metres away to a nearby dam for a drink, and Rizen did the same.

“Experience horse rider eh!” I said to my friend, as we watched the horses drink, “Yes, we have horses at home in the UK, I’ve been riding since I was eight years old,” Rizen replied. We walked the horse back to the stables at a steady pace, stopping at the sheds, where Gramps was talking to our farm worker. “Who won the race this time?” Gramps asked us, “Me of course,” I replied smiling and Rizen laughed, “Only you cheated and got a head start from me,” Rizen replied.

Back at the stables we hosed down and brushed the horses, before giving them some dinner, before putting them in their stalls for the night. “This has been an awesome afternoon, thanks so much for having me stay here this week,” Rizen said as we sat down for dinner that evening. “You are most welcome dear,” Gran replied smiling.

The following morning, after feeding the horses and letting them out into their yards, we took turns to have a shower and change, before we set off on a half-hour drive south to Granville to attend the very small and very old Anglican Church. The service was very traditional and performed by a visiting minister from Perth, and there were only a dozen others in attendance apart from our family.

After the service, we did a bit of grocery shopping, although I was surprised that such a small town had shops open on a Sunday. “They only open from 11 am till 2 pm on Sundays, just to allow people like us, located on the edge of the shire, to do a bit of shopping,” Gran said to us.

After lunch, we just rested and went for a short walk up to the stables to see the horses, and we went down to the river for a look around as well. Later in the afternoon, we returned to the stables to feed the horses and put them in the stalls for the night.

Copyright March 2024 All Rights are Reserved, Preston Wigglesworth
  • Like 12
  • Love 28
  • Haha 1
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. 
You are not currently following this author. Be sure to follow to keep up to date with new stories they post.

Recommended Comments

Chapter Comments

View Guidelines

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now


  • Newsletter

    Sign Up and get an occasional Newsletter.  Fill out your profile with favorite genres and say yes to genre news to get the monthly update for your favorite genres.

    Sign Up
×
×
  • Create New...