The best and worst experience I’ve ever had

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The best and worst experience I’ve ever had

Two university students, a 20-year-old wagon and 420km of highway in the middle of the night. What could go wrong? Turns out, quite a bit.

While at a party, my friend Evan and I had a marvellous idea. In exactly one week we would drive five hours from Perth to Bluff Knoll overnight, see the sunrise, get the best pizza in WA, and drive back in time for my evening shift at the bar. Sounds easy, right?

Picking Evan up

We ran into issues immediately. I covered a co-worker’s 10-hour shift last-second. No worries, I thought, I will be tired but surely Evan can drive the first hour so I can sleep. When I arrived, I spent 20 minutes calling him before deciding my time was better spent grabbing a quick kip, waiting for him to wake up.

I was shocked awake by a burly hooded figure ******** at my window yelling to let him in. It took me several moments to recognise this carjacker to in fact be Evan.

Turns out he had gone to a party, had drinks, and figured he could get a quick nap before I arrived. “You don’t mind driving the first couple hours aye?”

“Guess I got no choice…” I grumbled, “Where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

“Your HiLux. The one you got three weeks ago. The one you wouldn’t shut up about.”

“Ah, I sold that. It sucked.”

I realised I never actually confirmed that we would be taking his truck. Evan babbled something about the car lacking power, so he needed something better (as of writing he still has not bought a new car and borrows his mum’s to get to work). An hour later than we planned, we jumped into my 20-year-old station wagon, which has such little clearance it cannot go over certain speed bumps.

Driving down

The first hour was smooth sailing outside of a few disconcerting noises from my car. My first challenge was the truck behind us. This truck was the bane of my existence for the next 100km. Due to my car being lowered I am regularly blinded by ***********, and this truck had industrial high beams on. They tailgated me the entire time, leaving my eyes absolutely scorched.

I refused to admit defeat though. I briefly closed my left eye to rest it, while keeping my right eye open. A sharp bend in the road approached and I felt a tight grasp on my arm shake frantically, a panicked voice erupting beside me, “Tim wake the f… up right now!” Evan’s reaction startled me so much I almost lost control.

“What the f…ing ***** was that!?”

“You were asleep!”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Your eyes were closed.”

“I only had one eye closed, they were just sore because of the high beams.”

“What are you talking about?!”

After briefly squabbling I managed to explain the situation. Eventually we swapped positions, and I was finally able to get rest.

Around 5am we reached the Stirling Range. It was still pitch ******, so we slowed down to a snail’s pace for 20 minutes, regularly dodging wildlife. One rabbit refused to avoid us, instead choosing to leap straight into the car, exploding with more blood than I thought possible and actually dimming my headlight.

We ******* to reach the mountain before sunrise, mostly due to someone taking a nap. Our ******** proved incredibly lucky, however. We noticed freshly illuminated kangaroos as far as the eye could see, several about to jump on to the road. Evan slammed the brakes, stopping with inches to spare. “*****, good thing we arrived late. If we didn’t see them early your car would be toast,” he said.

Camera IconTim on a rock with a big view. Credit: SuppliedThe Bluff

Finally, we reached Bluff Knoll. Evan pulled out Strava, a walking trail app where people can post times along hikes. The average time was 2 hours and 20 minutes. We agreed to get one hour and 30 minutes.

The climb proved tough, especially for Evan as, at the time, he was trying to “get huge” and was avoiding cardio like the plague so he occasionally needed to stop and rest. Despite that we somehow exceeded our goal, hitting one hour and 14 minutes.

We were blessed with solitude at the top, so we got a spectacular view of WA’s South West, unspoiled by people polluting the space. The Stirling Range is small. Only 43 mountains checker the 1000sqkm region, so the view was uninterrupted right to the coast.

It looked straight out of Lord Of The Rings. Damp pastures stretching out as far as the eye could see, the lonely mountains towering over the endless flats below. The view alone was worth the trip. However, our stomachs reminded us of the true reason we came.

We sped down the trail, slamming down each step. We needed a break, however neither of us were willing to admit it. Evan refused to hold us up again and I forced myself to stay ahead. I had never been happier to see a car in my life. The seat enveloped my backside. I had forgotten what comfort truly felt like (I was up there for no more than three hours).

Our phones ran out of battery and our map-reading skills are a bit rusty to say the least, the curse of modern technology I guess, so with a lot of faffing about we navigated our way to Denmark.

data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///ywAAAAAAQABAAACAUwAOw==Camera IconPizza and a drink. Credit: Boston Brewery/SuppliedThe pizza

We had a tradition. Whenever we went down south, we ordered a meat lover’s pizza from Boston Brewery. Now what I am about to say, I mean with no hyperbole. That pizza was a spiritual awakening. The **** and spices from each meat seeped into the dough. Every ***** presented a new flavour. The cheese somehow always stayed perfectly melted. You could set it down for 10 minutes and it would still be piping hot. We reached Nirvana when we ate these.

We were vibrating with excitement. We ordered at the bar and the service left plenty to be desired. We also noticed how sticky all the tables were. We pushed through it all though. Eventually the waitress glided over to our table, carrying our reward.

It was as beautiful as the day I first gazed upon it. It practically glowed. I was smiling like a child on Christmas. I bit off a chunk, absorbing all the flavours. It was incredible.

Incredibly mediocre.

I was confused. I should take another *****. Maybe my tastebuds were wrong. I took another *****, just as average. I could see the disappointment in Evan’s eyes. We discussed in detail how we remembered the pizza, concluding something had definitely changed. We drilled the waitress to see if anything had changed. No luck unfortunately. “We paid $27.50 for a Domino’s pizza,” Evan muttered. We were baffled, in all honesty.

We left utterly defeated. Our view of Boston forever tarnished.

The journey back

Our return was uneventful. Friends and partners called, asking how we got to a mountain top when they had seen us the previous night. We quite enjoyed the confusion we had created. I arrived at my shift on time. It felt like a dream, I was exhausted and far from my best state.

I have never had better customer feedback in my life.

+ Tim McDonald is a student on the travel writing course at the University of Notre Dame Australia. We met during a mentoring session.

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