T-Shirt sweepstakes giveaway!

My first adventure that I can remember was when I was about 8 years old. Our back yard at The Gap was connected to the foothills of Mt Coo-tha. Miles of untouched bushland to explore! I spent every day after school and on weekends creating my own games and adventures in the bush. As I grew older and more confident the further I would venture out. By the time I was 12 I knew most of the mountain – right up to the Channel 10 Tower! I would weave my way around the side of the hill to a slimy little creek that slowly trickled into a storm water drain. The drain was twice my size in width and depth, enough room for my friend and me to fit into. We would dare each other to go in solo. Who ever went down the longest was the hero of the day! Screaming at the top of our lungs added to the thrill! Could anyone hear us? Digging big holes to make leafy traps for wild animals was hard work. I would gather up all the kids in my street to make the job easier. The following day we would check to see if the traps had worked. My brothers would smash them up to wreck my fun. Eventually the holes turned into trenches. Old timber, iron, anything we could find from the old dump we used to create a war zone. Guns were fashioned out of timber cut offs from dads shed. We rolled cigarettes out of old jacaranda sticks and smoked them! The grass was so soft and clumpy you could lie in it like a bed. If you didn’t get home before dark you coped it from mum big time! Sneaking out after dark was the best part of all…as long as you took your torch the adventures only got better!

I remember a weekend I paddled from Somerset dam to Wivenhoe dam with friends. We set out early in the morning, canoes & kayaks filled to the brim with everthing from food to a FM radio. Our plan was to paddle as far as we could on the first day and camp on the side of the river for the night. So off we set, a bunch of crazy city kids following the flow of the river, singing Pink Floyd & Neil Diamond tunes to the catlle and sheep as we floated past. Late in the afternoon, we pitched our tents and set up camp for the evening. We ate, we laughed and planned our assault on the river for the next day. We were back on the water early in the morning as the fog was still lifting, happy, rested and feeling invincible. All was going well untill we came apon some river rapids just before one of the many bridge crossings. I decided to paddle down first to make sure it was safe for everyone else, as I approached the rapids I decided to back paddle and tell the group the rapids were to fast and the bridge was too low. Then out the corner of my eye I spotted my friends in the canoe roar past me already sucked into the rapids. All hell broke loose. "Bang", they hit the bridge sideways and got jammed. I paddled over to the side, as I was running to the bridge they capsized, with some help they managed to reach the safety of the river bank. Meanwhile their canoe kept on floating upside down through the rapids. A salvage mission for the canoe and it's content was then planned and executed. Our friends were shaken from the experience, upside down in a canoe jammed up against a bridge in deep rapids must of been scary. With a shattered confidence, half of our friends posessions lost (including the FM radio), clothes and sleeping bags soaked, we decided to end our adventure and return home while we were all still in one piece. This is a true story -K & T will vouch for this. Size XL if i win 8-)