Yowie’s, Dogs and a Full Moon

First of all, I should explain that a Yowie is the Aussie equivalent of a Sasquatch, Bigfoot, Yeti and a heap of other such ……. beings. There is no more or less evidence that Yowies exist than there is for Sasquatch. It is, however, suspected that many of the Yowie sightings in Australia may be in fact quite real, although the suspicion is that the “beings” are, in fact, Vietnam Vets who have gone …… bush……. or ……. loopy or both. Particularly in the Pilliga, it is suggested that there is a couple of such poor souls who haven’t shaved since getting off the boat at Circular Key in the 70’s, have long since lost any semblance of clothing and have gone “native”.
I cannot attest to it either way, but I can say that the Pilliga has an unenviable reputation of ……. peculiar occurrences, to put it mildly, and numerous “sightings” and so forth, as well as theft and so on in the few parking areas along the length of the Pilliga.

There is slight embellishment to this story, but it is pretty close to being exactly what happened.
Yesterday, on my way North, I decided that since I had a heap of time up my sleeve as I had departed early enough to be half a day early in Brisvegas, I would have a little “Nanna nap”. I opted to do so at a parking bay (rest area) about ¾ of the way through the Pilliga Scrub.

I woke up just after dark, got out of the truck and ….. took things in hand to relieve some pressure build up, not realising that some other residents had stopped in the parking bay whilst I was in the land of nod. I rather rudely discovered this when a group of hound dogs (okay, so they were kelpie dogs …. hound dogs sounds more impressive) started whooping and a yowling, wailing and a bellowing. As you may imagine, I errrrr completed the task as rapidly as I could, then went over to investigate where all the commotion was coming from.

I discovered that these people from North Queensland (a bloody long way North – as far as Florida is from New York) had half set up camp whilst I was pushing out the zzzzz’s. They were a couple, in their 40’s, of the normal persuasion – you know, a bloke and his wife. They hadn’t completed the task, apparently, because they didn’t wish to awaken me by hammering in their tent pegs. I considered this was very courteous of them and thanked them.

The following conversation ensued between myself and Ol’ Mate.

Me: You sure yer wanna camp here, mate?

He: Ay? Wot?

Me: Haven’t ya heard about the reputation of the Pilliga?

He: Yeah! I heard sumpin’, but I dunno about it! I reckon I’ll be right.

Me: Are ya sure? Ya got a young wife there and all them dawgs.

He: Wot’s the dawgs gotta do with it?

Me: Yowies.

He: Wot?????

Me: Bloody Yowies, mate.

He: Nah! The dawgs will protect us.

Me: You gotta be kidding me. They’re just bloody sheep dogs and probably pets at that.Sheesh! You wanna lot fiercer dawgs than that if they gonna take on a bloody Yowie. Bloody kelpies are all bark and no balls. Besides, there’s a bloody mob of them Yowies here abouts and them dawgs are just gonna be like bait and attract them. Mate, they just love dawgs. They reckon they taste great!

He: Fair dinkum.

Me: Yair. Would I lie to you? (Then pointing to the full moon over head). Them bastards travel under a full moon! Sheesh! You’ll end up with a whole bloody tribe of the bastards on your doorstep in no time making a helluver fuss. Them itty bitty tents aren’t gonna afford you any protection at all and them dawgs will both attract them and annoy them. Mate you gonna have one helluver drama here tonight of yer hang about.

He: Yer ever seen any of them?

Me: Sure! About 10 years ago I was camped up in a parking bay just up there a ways and I woke up to find this great hairy face looking in my driver’s window (which I had up and the door locked) and it scared the living daylights outta me. I belted outta there like there was no tomorrow. Next morning I found scratch marks all over the door and the handle was all broke and the bastard bloody near got in. I only stopped here, today, because it was daylight.

He: You’re shittin’ me, aren’t ya?

Me: Nope! No sir! Not at all. It’s ridgy didge. That’s why I got up, mate! I’m not bloody stayin’ here after bloody dark and especially not on a full moon.

I then walked back to my truck and did my “pre flight”, did a bit of stuff in the cab, got the paperwork up to scratch and started to dawdle out of the rest area.

Well, I’ll be!! I looked in the bloody mirror as I headed North, and here they are, high tailing it out of that parking bay heading South having followed me out of there. And I mean high tailing it.

I guess they reckoned on not wanting to tangle with a whole bunch of them mean ol’ Yowies after all!

Keep it safe.