NAVIGATION

Revenge On The Diggings

Jim Bowling (Enoggeroos, Qld)

Revenge is sweet. Despite my cunning plan of last year coming to fruition with my winning of the coveted Perseverance Cup, the Leyburn Diggings map believed that it had defeated me with its subtle underhanded tricks. As I left the field of battle last year I could hear the triumphant whispers in the trees, the low chuckles in the rocks, and the rustle of the leaves in the watercourses, as the map spread the word of its having bested me.

THE sheer arrogance of this map to think that it, and not my supremely cunning plan, had enabled me to win the cup!! I knew I had to prove that it was me, and not it’s childish efforts that had accomplished such a feat of endurance! I waited. Patience is a virtue when one is fighting to retain one’s honour on the field of battle. The time came for me. A two-day event on the Leyburn Diggings map arrived. I was ready. Packing my bags I left early Saturday to travel to Leyburn and do battle with ‘that map’! Being the sportsman that I am, I decided to let ‘that map’ know I was throwing down the gauntlet; let it answer the challenge if it dared. On arrival I carefully dressed for the occasion and entered the forest. At the start site I wandered casually about allowing ‘that map’ to see me and realise that the challenge was on! I was confident in my ability. Well, anyway, I acted as if I was confident. The shadows were lengthening as I left the start and advanced rapidly and confidently up the hill to the first control. I had taken ‘that map’ by surprise! It was overconfident in its ability to confuse. Perhaps the lateness of the start had caught it by surprise. No cunning plan for me today; I was just there to throw out the challenge. Let ‘that map’ accept it if it dared. Belatedly it attempted to confuse me with a half-hearted attempt at misplacing some boulders. I laughed at this puny attempt and continued on my way. Next came the small rocks that rolled as I stepped on them. How pathetic, trying to trip me in such a way. However the challenge had been accepted. Not wishing to blow my own trumpet, not too much anyway, I finished the course in fine fettle and returned to Leyburn to await the morrow. Showered and changed I repaired to the Leyburn Hotel where a warm fire, a cold beer, and a hot steak set the seal on the day. Of course I realised ‘that map’ now knew I was back and would be preparing its attack for tomorrow. One victory was not going to be enough. I had to show ‘that map’ I was superior to it. Sunday dawned bright and cheerful. A perfect day for the challenge. I arrived early just to show my confidence, and again walked casually about for a while letting ‘that map’ know I was in charge. Then the time had come for me to show it that it was my cunning plan that had won me the Perseverance Cup, not its sneaky underhanded, and I must say subtle, terrain misplacements. My first control appeared directly in front of me without trouble. A quick change of direction and off to the second. Still ‘that map’ had not realised I was on the ground and running. I had caught it completely by surprise! The third and fourth controls were behind me before ‘that map’ had woken up to my brilliant navigation, lightning speed, and tenacious grasp on the situation! However I nearly came to grief due to my sense of elation. ‘That map’ tried the old ‘rolling rock underfoot trick’. I was nearly undone as I bounded confidently down a slope and the rocks suddenly moved! I was immediately brought to my senses and that old adage ‘Pride cometh before a fall’, flashed through my mind. The fight was on! Oh how the blood boils when your challenge is met! I had a worthy opponent and I was determined to beat it! Ignoring the blood, as a true warrior should, I resumed my course, albeit with more caution. Down the slope, across the watercourse junctions, that appeared subtly out of shape from the map, and up the next ridge. ‘That map’ was really fighting back. Again I was nearly caught. This time it was the cobbler’s pegs with their grasping clinging black pins. But my blood was fairly up. My eagle eyes sighted a wallaby track through the barrier and I was through before ‘that map’ could close the gap. Recovered from its surprise, I knew it was rattled when it tried to trip me up with its loose rocks and cobbler’s pegs again but I was ready for it. ‘You only catch me once’, I shouted defiantly. Deftly stepping over the rocks and around the cobbler’s pegs I proceeded to spike the fifth control. ‘That map’ was now getting into its stride. It tried the old trick of moving the boulders to the other side of the watercourse, but I had its number. Ignoring the obvious ruse I sneered at the boulders, tracked along the watercourse, and climbed the misrepresented hillside to pounce on the next control. Oh, it was glorious. Victory was in my grasp. One last sneaky trick almost caught me when the last control seemed to move mysteriously from one watercourse to the next. But it was the last gasp from a vanquished foe. As I placed my SI stick in the finish control I could hear the trees whispering in defeat, the rocks slithering to hide under the leaves that were blubbering. Yes, revenge is sweet. I had shown ‘that map’ who its master was. As I left the finish area I noticed Greg Chatfield among many others patiently picking out cobblers pegs from their O-suits. I knew ‘that map’ had spitefully taken out its defeat on the other competitors. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valour, I refrained from mentioning my victory and quietly slipped away. At midnight, in an ancient Druid ceremony, with incantations and a full moon shining down, ‘that map’ was sacrificed and devoured in flames.