Oh, Stumps. Where do I begin? I guess the first thing I have to say is that I literally have no clue what it stands for. We hazarded a sexually inappropriate guess, of course, but I’m pretty sure we were nowhere near.
Now for those who don’t know what Stumps is, let me get you up to speed. It’s a weekend of boozing, banalities and breakdowns. Or, more precisely, it’s a themed car rally that involves various drunken challenges and enforced fun, and a barn party in the middle of nowhere. Did it live up to its crazy reputation? Most certainly.
It seems like every time we embark on some sort of road trip, we are faced with the worst weather possible. Our theme was “spring breakers”, so our skimpy shorts and bikinis weren’t great for the torrential rain that greeted us as we were packing the car. Ah well, the fewer clothes you wear, the less wet you get, right? Packing was amusing, as there were eight of us, and approximately one quarter of a square metre’s space in the boot. I knew from the start that this was going to be challenging!
We loaded up the car with alcohol, food and doonas (in order of importance), and off we went… or tried to, at least. In typical Stumps style we couldn’t even leave the car park without assistance! Despite holding down the accelerator and having the car in drive, we were going backwards. Embarrassed, we called for back up, and it was established that the car wasn’t turned on! Good start.
Over excited by the fact that the car actually worked now, my friend pressed the accelerator down rather too hard and we so nearly hit the car in front of us. It would’ve been rather impressive if we’d had an accident in the first five minutes of the weekend! After this small hiccough, we left the car park in hysterics, after doing two laps because we didn’t know where we going. Finally, we were off! That was far too difficult.
Our first challenge involved jumping off a pontoon into Mathilda Bay, and eating a raw egg, tuna, and dry Weetabix. Thankfully, we didn’t all have to complete the challenge, and so I watched bemused from the sidelines. Apparently someone from another car puked up the raw egg and red stuff came out…yum. Having successfully completed the challenge (all credit goes to me, of course), we jumped back into the car and excitedly consulted the sheet for our next challenge. I sneakily managed to avoid doing this one too (I’m a good team player), but it certainly looked less bad: down a drink, flip a cup, and slide down a crudely fashioned slide smothered in water and fairy liquid. The slide did look kinda painful though, and I heard a few crunches as ribs met compacted sand.
The third challenge involved a shopping mall and various embarrassing things to do: ask in a bakery whether you could “feel their buns”, ask how much a massage was and request a happy ending (I actually did this one! – and by this I mean that I asked for the happy ending, I didn’t go through with it!), take a selfie with a GILF, propose to a member of the public, serenade a member of the public… and so on.
At this point my memory becomes rather hazy, but I’m pretty sure that the next stop involved McDonalds (or “Maccers”, as the aussies affectionately know it as). Given the rivalry between Burger King and McDonalds, the Stumps crew thought it’d be amusing to get us to request a “McWhopper”, a “pounder”, a “bacon McFlurry” and an ice cream cone (without the ice cream). Suffice to say my friend had to talk to three poor, unsuspecting McDonald’s people before actually getting the order. This was made all the more difficult by the fact that we were the first car, and they really had no clue what we were on about. “McWhopper” was misconstrued as “hot chocolate” (easy mistake to make), and a “ham and cheese pocket” (how does three syllables turn into five?!) Having only managed to buy the “pounder”, we stopped by the shopping centre, and I proceeded to walk through it and find someone’s beard to stroke (that was one of the extra challenges, not some weird fetish of mine- don’t worry!). I got a fair few odd (and probably disapproving) looks as I was wearing a Hawaiian flower garland and my bikini…
And oh, I nearly forgot- my friend shaved off his eyebrow!
Complete with a “pounder”, some dog food, and one less eyebrow, we hit the road. A couple of my brave friends ate the dog food, and spent the rest of the journey desperately trying to dispel the taste with beer (personally, I’d prefer the taste of dog food!). I didn’t really get the next challenge, but it involved forming a line and chucking a beer around, or something like that. I got distracted because I desperately needed the loo (for like the tenth time!), and went about scouting out an appropriate bush. It’s times like these that being a boy would be kinda handy.
Just as we were about to leave, our very drunk friend leapt into the car in a rather ungainly manner (contrary to the ninja he was dressed up as!). As a joke, we started driving, but then thought it would be somewhat amusing to kidnap him. This was a good idea at first, but it turns out the others thought he’d wandered off into the woods, and sent out a search party! Woops.
I’m pretty sure that was the last of the designated challenges, but we still had a fair few extra ones to complete. We stopped by the side of the road and took a naked car photo, attempted to get a picture with wildlife (which involved madly chasing some cows around a muddy field), and also disposed of our hitchhiker into another car.
The rest of the journey was spent consuming copious amounts of cider, blaring out some tunes, and trying desperately not to fall asleep…something my friend most certainly did not manage…
Two hundred kilometres later, we rocked up at the barn. We stumbled out of the car, and eagerly headed towards the barbie (check out me and my Australian slang). We warmed ourselves by the blazing fire and munched on our hotdogs and I loved how truly Australian it all was.
By the time the rest of the cars had arrived, the music was pumping and the alcohol was freely flowing. Apparently there were 1,400 cans of beer and cider and 250L of goon. Between 250 people, that’s a lot. I’ll leave you to do the maths. The set up in the barn was pretty sick, and I spent most of the evening alternating between failing miserably at beer pong and pulling some embarrassing dance moves. My ball throwing accuracy when drunk is most definitely under par. As for my dancing…let’s not go there!
At around 2am I could feel my eyelids drooping and I left the party,
desperately trying to ignore my FOMO. There was no space in our car, so my friend and I managed to find a less than adequate alternative- some sort of silo. Ah well, at least it was dry! Having said this, we did literally sleep in some sort of excrement, and wake up with about ten mozzie bites. In fact, I’m writing this as I can’t sleep cause they’re so bloody itchy!
Well, there you have it. A weekend I’ll never forget. I may have lost some of my dignity and the functionality of my liver, but there isn’t a single part I wouldn’t do again.