Wapiti wrote:Yeah so, I was up at another farm up the road on an invite for dinner, me and the Mrs, Saturday.
I'll call this bloke Dave, he's a retired bloke and comes up from Brissy every month or so, sometimes with his wife, sometimes with two retired mates. Great blokes, from trade backgrounds so solid as. They are Sakophiles, don't have many guns but like their blued steel and walnut and calibres that let you know there just gone off hard.
Dave's bought this 4000-ish acre place, that backs onto mine up the back and we share a gate in the Qld Dog fence. There's one joint in-between us by road, and he's about 10km away.
This is the place where last winter, I came back from Dave's at about 11pm after dinner and beers there, and came upon a really dirty, long haired bloke in old grey, almost black tattered trackie duds and hoodie, with these sagged old ugg boots around his ankles, shuffling along the left side of the dirt road. In the middle of basically nowhere. As I came upon the bloke from behind with the big spots on him, he wandered down a grader-made water drain that runs off into the scrub, without turning back to look at me. That side of the road isn't fenced, and is just a bad place to be because of the multiple wild dog packs and big pigs in there. It's also the site of an abandoned arsenic mine that's been fenced off because it's a contaminated site.
We never worked out who that weirdo was.
I wasn't stopping alone that time because I wasn't armed because I was on a public road, and who knows who else was in there.
Anyway Dave got sucked in by a Cleavers special, a Ruger American package deal with spiral fluted greenish painted barrel in some yuppie 6.5 manbun. He was keen to go through this area and stake it out over some skip baits, and see if it's any good. All keen, they were. For dogs, maybe a pig.
Anyway it was Dave and his two mates, they were driving in there slowly, it was that weekend when we were supposed to be flooded out so bad we'd have to make an Ark. All lies from the woke BOM but instead it was just dark and misty drizzle. This is thick regrowth rubbish too. Trapping country really.
Anyway one of them saw this figure trying to run (their description) away in the bush. He/it was crouching down but must've figured it'd been busted, seen or something because it took off, bouncing over fallen timber and running into stuff and zig-zagging this way and that.
They described it as probably a person with long knotted hair and beard, maybe, dressed in grey work clothes that had been shredded into strips and was really mech-fitter dirty all over. But that was all they could say because they couldn't get a real clear look.
They didn't even set up their ambush spot, but went straight back to the farmhouse, and gave me a ring. Asking for another description of the person I'd seen months ago on the road bordering that same area. I had to laugh because of how rattled they were.
So we went up there for dinner and they were pressing me about all the sightings and rumours out this way that date right back from the last native habitation and coexisting with the soldier-settlers, and their myths about the SMH. I told them what I'd seen, my discussions with old shearers and hunters and campers, some of which I wrote about earlier in this thread.
I'd be very interested if anyone else has anything to add that is helpful, not disrespectful, or any other experiences or heard things about this area. There's something really weird going in that's for certain. This area goes from Stanthorpe to the east, all the bush along the border below Glen Lyon dam to Bonshaw, and on the other side (south) of the Bruxner Hwy from Tenterfield. Down all the way to Emmaville, really.
very odd mate . might be someone with mental health issues camped out bush . aside from that i've no other suggestions or insight
well dressed SHM maybe ? sorry , couldn't help myself
