Kenilworth State Forest

(The Silver Submarine)

26 - 27 June 1999

It was still dark as I finished work and rushed home to pack the car. We were to meet at the BP Burpengary and head off from there to Kenilworth State Forest. Vanessa and I finished packing the car when our friends from the Gold Coast arrived so we packed their gear in as well. The poor subie was loaded to the gunwales and handled like a whaleboat in rough seas. An hour later at the BP the sun dawned as we were having breakfast bringing with it our illustrious and punctual trip leader, Big John McK and his off-sider Sue. Graeme and Julie arrived in the mighty Brumby and we all had to wait for Dave in another Brumby. (Another short lawn?) After chatting a bit we went as convoy through Landsborough, Maleny, Connondale and on to Charlie Moorlands campsite. Whilst making camp Rex and family turned up followed by Rikki in the ultra-quiet MY with the boring paint job. Rex, having local knowledge led the afternoon’s trip with Dave being tail-end-Charlie.

Rikki's Subie - Ultra Quiet and Boring !

Not 300 metres down the track the Ranger stopped us to look at the permits but the permits we had were not for Kenilworth State Forest. He was very nice about it all and organized permits for us. It was interesting to note how the flood damage had changed the creeks appearance from the time the club was there about a year ago. The first creeks were about 10 inches deep with rocky bottoms, easily crossed by the inexperienced driver, and driving further on we saw that the track was closed to the cattle yards. Rex knew a different way around the closed road but it involved going up a very steep hill coated in slippery mud. Rex was first to attempt the hill and almost made it in one go. All he needed was one more attempt to rise to the pinnacle. He stood atop the summit like a modern day Edmund Hillary, ruler of all he purveys. Big John, lockers front and back, had trouble getting the Pie Van past the first whoa-boy but with a few tricks up our sleeve we were able to get him up and over the hurdle.

 Thinking that the surface was getting slipperier with every car Graeme allowed me to go next as I have open diffs and sporting 165 road tyres. I took a big run-up but could not crest the second whoa-boy. I reversed (slid) to the bottom of the hill, revved it up, did a four wheel burn-out and flew up the hill, full noise, only to be thwarted by the final ascent. We did not know at that time that each car going over the mud was making the surface more ‘grippy’, So with Rex pushing my car and a burning clutch I too stood atop the behemoth. Dave and Graeme made the process look easy (real men did it with open diffs).

From here we travelled along the ridge and found a lovely place to have afternoon tea. After further discussion we formulated our route towards the cattle yards. Along this route was a strange piece of track that was giving more traction in the wet than it was in the dry. The descent from the lunch site included a stretch of track which was so slippery that the only way to traverse it was to put your wheels in the ruts and let the track do the driving. This technique was much to the horror of some female passengers aboard the silver submarine. Captain Matt. said, " Thirty degrees down zero bubble!". We blew the tanks and expelled some of the ballast (passengers).

The posse then proceeded to the next obstacles which included more thrashing to climb summits and more sliding to descend them. These hills were easier than the first hill and allowed all vehicles to get through without much drama. A fork in the road gave us the option of a chicken route or a rather tricky creek crossing with a V-profile.

Rex crossed easily so we thought we would give it a go too. As soon as we go to the bottom of the ‘V’ my attack and departure angles were shown to be insufficient and this led to being ‘bogged’. Dave (aspiring to be a civil engineer) started the road building process but this proved futile as time was running out and we could not afford to reconstruct the Hume highway in the middle of Kenilworth State Forest. The pack was shuffled and Big John came to my rescue. The big Rodeo made an easy meal of pulling the Subie out. We all then proceeded around the chicken track except for the boring, quiet Rikki MY. This dilemma led to me writing this article; but to confirm my position as article writer was the Mary River.

Again Rex with first batter up. He crossed the creek easily after showing us his pearly white legs and adding a blind to the front of his car. He had previously marked the way through with fallen tree branches. I used these a navigational aids after John crossed easily, pies and drinks intact. Although using these markers through the "Straits of Magellan" the submarine’s reactor went critical. The red lights glowed brighter and brighter. Captain Matt. said, "Dive, Dive, Dive" but had left the hatch open and we proceeded to take on water, A submariner’s nightmare. The liquid floor rose until equilibrium was reached between the inside and the outside of the helm. Crew member’s decided to abandon ship, the Captain going down faithfully with his ship. This was much to the humorous delight of the club members with Big John recording the whole event on video for prosperity. A search and rescue team was then deployed as the reactor would not come back online…………….ten minutes later with all electronics on high ground (the roof racks) and crew members hanging out of the car to keep what wasn’t already wet, dry a snatch was attached to the rear of the slightly heavier submarine and Rikki began the extrication of the submarine to dry dock. Firstly trying a rearward retreat was fruitless. It was decided to turn Rikki around and try once again. This procedure took up another ten minutes of valuable daylight but produced a positive result. 

Once in the dry dock the hatches were blown and half the Mary River proceeded to flow out of the vehicle -  reminiscent of a scaled down Niagara Falls. It had dawned on me at this point that I had been pulled out backwards and would have to sail the Mary again. But first to get the car started. Whilst sitting in the river water had crept up the exhaust pipe and had filled the combustion chambers. The air filter was dry and the carbie was dry but the engine would not turn over so "out with the spark plugs" was the call. Both Dave and Rex dove under the bonnet and were treated to an impromptu shower as the motor cranked and the water was shot under high pressure towards the dynamic duo. Copious amounts of WD40 later the motor managed to cough and splutter to a start and expelled the other half of the Mary river out the back of the car.

It was decided for the second attempt, I was to be attached behind Dave’s brumby with two snatchie’s. After Graeme, Dave and I crossed the river, Rikki attacked the river head-on without a blind with a bucket full of determination and green garden hose sticking out of every orifice under the car. A smile stretched across Rikki’s face from ear-to-ear for quite some time after the river crossing.

On the way to the cattle yards was an undulating muddy, muddy road that filled the chassis with sticky mud and the cutting up of the track led to the Mighty Brumby being bogged. We could not believe the message over the radio, " DAVE’S STUCK!!". He was pulled out and the whole troop proceeded onto the cattle yards where fruit picking became popular. From here the pack split up into two groups, one seeking more adventure, the other going homeward to the campsite as it was close to beer o’clock.

Every time I pushed the pedal there was a squishing sound so I put my tail between my legs and headed home. The extra adventure taken on by part of the group included a few extra hills but nothing that was too difficult. The trip included a staking of Rex’ right rear tyre when he had finished the track and had pulled up to wait for the others. A quick change of tyre was performed and a homeward pelt down the smooth dirt road to the campsite was instituted. It was then beer o’clock (happy hour) for six hours until we had all had enough and decided to pack it in for the night.

The following day was named "Drying Out Day" for the car was not the only thing that got sloshed the day before. Enough said I think. More Country members arrived and luckily for them I was drying out and was able to point them in the right direction to catch up to the group that had only recently departed. Someone else will have to fill you in with the Sunday adventure as I was grounded at camp but I did hear that Jodie had a massive moment on one of the steeper hills. This involved him training his car to stand up on it’’ hind feet.

On a maintenance note I got water in the diff, gearbox and wheel bearings which prompted a lube overhaul.

WANTED: Snorkel, diving fins, scuba tank, crate of All Clear sealant.

Matthew Abbott SC451