Posted by: EPIC | August 13, 2010

Bush Skipping: An Exclusive Account of a Breaking New Extreme Outdoor Adventure Sport

Originating in Wagga Wagga as a way to travel between pubs, bush skipping is the art of traversing arduous terrains in a gleeful and expedient way. Adam W. J. Basiljet, having accidentally conceived of this new application for an old form of locomotion, then single-mindedly set about perfecting it. Adam delivered this account, written in the margins of of an Australian Alps Walking Track Guidebook:

“I was at Romano’s, it was 1:10am and in the last four tequilas the place had seethed into some kind of horror show. There was rum and detritus an inch deep in the bathrooms, and someone had lost a thong in that mess, nothing extraordinary, but as I pushed past another southern cross tattoo the band kicked up and into their fourth reiteration of Khe Shan. This signalled to all of good nature and intermittently sound minds that deep unsettling acts of human depravity were to follow. In short,  I had begun to feel the mood of the place turn. I rode the elevator to the second floor, a reprieve, I corralled my ricocheting thoughts into a woolen tangle of usable energy and I stumbled quickly and with military purpose downstairs and into the street.

This is how it began. The town clock read 1:21, lockout 1:30. I had the power of mathematics vested in me by Mrs Brokenshire. I was able to compute. 9 country minutes to make the 2 country miles to the Victoria Hotel, and the haven of friendliness and love and adult refreshments that it harboured.  My feet were made for putting up, and with no cabs stopping for a bleary eyed pinko with long hair and no good intentions to speak of, I was now deep in no man’s land. There is no shelter, there is no drink and there is no private place to take a tinkle in Wagga between the hours of 1:30am and whenever you wake up under a palm tree from Nagasaki in the Victory Gardens. Every wee is illicit, the police have wee vision goggles. They know you’re busting and they’re busting to bust you. This is the way of small town police, study them, learn their habits and you will tinkle free of fear.

Hot damn, could I make it? [click that one, it’s important, listen and keep reading – ED]. It was absurdity to try, but the absurdity was freedom. Without a destination that would receive me, I had only the journey. That was my lot, my night, and in that moment I was free of time and smelly spaces. I thought this as I walked, and as I walked I jumped to touch the sign of some business or another, I missed but jumped to touch the next and so on, linking the jumps until there were no more signs. But my momentum drove me on. I found that I couldn’t stop, I was propelling forward in some kind of perilous everlasting fall which, at the last moment, pogoed skywards and continued. I was covering such ground. The street art and shopping trolleys were blurring by and my feet just padded the ground in turn from time to time and the air made noise in my ears like I was standing on top of a mountain.

My tequila sharpened mind struggled to analyse the sensory offerings delivered to it in those heady minutes, and long before I knew what was what I quenched my bush skip induced thirst with a lick of salt, a sip of tequila and squirt of lemon in my eye. I looked around, the place had a piercing aquatic quality, but I recognised it and I knew my people. The Victoria Hotel.”

Adam has not been seen since he gave a lecture on vegetarianism and the virtues of monitoring felafel inventory levels to a capacity crowd at JD’s Kebabs in late 2009.

Those that skipped with the skipper of bush skipping report setting a barreling pace along fire trails, experiencing an extreme sport rush along footpads and breaking a smile as if the wind were at their backs just when the tedium of trudge trudge trudge was getting them down. Square Rock and Nursery Creek make for superb bush skipping for beginners. The fire trail down from lego land provides a downhill skipping rush while Mt Gingerra is best attempted after some practice. The key, i’m told, is the lunge to the sky with arm extended and head held high.


  1. […] at the top, Adam the bushman (Akubra and all) bushskipped his way across the rocky ground to find the site of our cocktail party…and what a site it […]

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