Respect Where Due Revisited: Tim “Cunnaz” Cunneen

I reckon it’s about time I did a few more of these. The last one on Cunnaz was 5 years ago. Has old mate slowed down? No chance. Sure, he has a spawn now, but fatherhood has not taken the fizz out of his Fanta fuelled veins. It is rad to see him embrace his new role as well.

The “Respect Where Due” articles were really about giving a nod to the underground rippers. Those skaters that everyone respects, that throw it down during the session, time after time. Most of these photographs are from our recent New Zealand trip you can check out here.

Cunnaz absolutely slayed it. Ten days on the road, ripping it up every single spot. Damn good road company too, keeping the yarns and vibes rolling along as we chalked up the kilometres.

I’ll let the images do the talking, and endeavour to keep these going.

This hip was a really harsh blend, old crusty west coast battered concrete. Steep as. Blasting after ten days straight.

Hucking a solid melon in Wanaka, before cooling off in the river. Les Hiddins attire.

It took me a million goes to chicken scratch here. Go there, it’s fucked. Back tail that would have to be an NBD

Back d’s on lock. How’s the serenity?

This think is jacked. No idea how he got into that bit. Pitted.

Mild in the streets: 41.

Since I turned the big four zero last year I thought a good way to motivate my self was to try and get a few skateboarding photographs every year. Now my age has clicked over it has come time to share a few.

So behold, bask in my underwhelming lameness. As time goes onwards these pissweak skateboarding feats will become progressively worse. It will be a timelapse where I slowly morph from a pirate into a wizard. So, unfortunately, this is as good as it is going to get.

Thank you to Duncan Ewington aka @ewingram for the photos. Us grown man grommets help each other to keep the stoke alive. You can call shotgun anytime mate.

A hazard plant on an overnighter to Kerang. Sleeping next to the park with a belly full of beer and BBQ is as good as it gets.

Lexi’s ramp is insane. Seeing him hit it is superhuman shit. The transition to vert ratio is wild.

This is just a go to trick. However, it’s on my backyard ramp and there is nuclear stuff coming out of my arse. Every time I look at my backyard I am reminded that I have awesome mates and that I am still a child. I think this white t shirt phase lasted a week max.

Bucket list stuff. Carving a cake in a backyard pool. This doesn’t look like much but I would say it took a good hour. The struggle is real.

My favourite ramp at Mat’s shed in Kyneton. Rare front feeble.

Slappies are the best. I have wanted to have a crack at this for ages. I’m sure a little bit of wee came out.

Country Creepin’ part three : Tamworth Country Music

The weather was going to shite, so there was no point camping another night in the Blue Mountains. After studying the forecasts and the radar I thought I could boot through to Tamworth and miss it. Last time I headed to Tamworth I got caught in one hell of a hailstorm. I wasn’t keen to end up in the same predicament. It wasn’t easy convincing my insurer that the matte black finish on my car was factory and I didn’t want to roll that dice again.

The Putty Road is epic. Hairpin corners, 100km/h limited and beautiful Dapto forest. It is in the top ten roads in the country. There are a bunch of car graveyards in peoples front yards so it a photographers dream. I didn’t have much luck, and the storm hit a few hours earlier than forecast. It was pretty severe! A road that was meant to be a highlight was a bit of a nightmare. Putty Road has it’s own memorial site, it is a stretch of tarmac to be respected.

The storm front. I had to head right up the guts of it.

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I pulled in here and had a rest. It was well played, I dodged the hailstorm front by fifteen minutes.

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I ended up making it to Tamworth after a very stressful drive. It was where I was raised, it is always a bit nostalgic. Country Music Week sees the town double in size. I reckon the council and hoteliers have become a bit greedy. They are price gouging for accommodation and stalls. The buskers have to pay to audition, then pay if they pass the audition to busk. The crap buskers are part of the appeal and there was hardly any buskers at all. If the main clientelle of the event are grey nomads on a pension, then price hikes will have a detrimental impact.

Anyhow, we saw some great bands. I always go and see Uncle Bob’s Jug Band. Hillbilly AC>DC covers and the like.

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People drank out of a leg, and I had a beer with a one armed bloke named Wingy

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Murphy’s Pigs were my favourite.

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I can’t believe a didn’t get a photo of my old man. Blowing it. I took a photo of Cam though

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It is always a pleasure to catch up with my old mates Troy and Ricky. I’ve known them since I was in early high school. They are fortunate to have great families and it is great to see them. I was chuffed that they made the effort to throw a BBQ and we had a rad afternoon.

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After the temperature dropped below 40 we got stuck in. Anaky has got the fire for it and has improved heaps since last year. Shredding!

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Troy was ripping. Sweeper

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Texas plants

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Getting the speed for the sketchy extension was really hard!

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Ricky manhandled the thing

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His boneless ones into the extension were rad

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Then the fire came out!

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I’ve been fortunate to shoot some incredible skaters doing some heavy moves in my time. I reckon this is one of my favourite photos though. Ricky’s daughter Mat challenging herself and overcoming her fears!

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Thanks to Dad, Robin, Troy, Ricky, Tina, Maire, Anaky, Mat and Joey. See you next time!

NSC X GC Peninsular lurking

Trying to get ourselves sorted and organised for a skate weekend away is a nightmare in logistics. It’s like herding cats, but the cats in zero gravity and there are biscuits floating everywhere to distract them.

We finally got our shit together and made some loose plans, stocked up the chilly bins and leaned heavily on Bristol Nick to take care of our infrastructure and resources. He stepped up to the plate superbly.

We were all having such a great time that we didn’t take heaps of photos. Duncan (@ewigram) and Tom Peden (@tommypeden) and I pooled our photos. Make sure you follow them on insta if you don’t already. Tom was injured, hence why there are no handsome back tail photos.

I won’t babble on as there is a load of photos to get through.

First stop, the underrated Chelsea. Now with shade sails

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Heaps of rad stuff happened, and my meh grind on the skinny extension. Photo @ewigram

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Then we had a mellow session at Mt Eliza under lights, cooked up, drank up and camped next to the bowl.

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After a 6:30am swim we had a leg stretcher. Mudguts barefoot barging

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And a decent length backside lipslide into the hip

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Heckle area warmed up before we moved on

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The heckling continued

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Pearcedale is so fun, yet snaps everyone off. Everytime. Jesse smiths

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Mudguts got loose

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Duncan lapped one. @tommypeden photo. Cracker of a shot!

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@ewigram shot these next four bangers. Cunnaz Liened one as a gnarly transfer

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Gez rocked @ewigram photo

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Dan slid one through the tight corner. @ewigram photo

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Mudguts rolled into the harshness @ewigram photo

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We then hit a little park called Sommerton. Cunnaz always wants moar Slayer

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Jesse has the best long as five-0 to fakies

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And switch 5-0’s

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Chris step off finger flip

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Ducky worked super hard to clear this gap. He had it in him, but didn’t get it. So damn close!

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He got retribution with this nosegrind pop out. @tommypeden photo

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Mudguts played all weekend. Crail

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Got the gap in his efforts to set a fire under Ducky. They amped each other up

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We set off for the paradise that is Balnarring

The flat bank triangle is rad. Dan with a backside heelflip @tommypeden photo

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Cunnaz with a kicky to fakie @tommypeden photo

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I did a no-comply @tommypeden photo

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and a tail block. @tommypeden photo

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Chris lapped a front rock proper @ewigram photo

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As did Bristol @tommypeden photo

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Mudguts nosegrab. First and last man rolling for the 12+ hour day. @tommypeden photo

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Duncan with a switch frontside shuv @tommypeden photo

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Punkpete shut it down with this banger over the gap

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And at the wee hours of the morning we polished off the last of the whiskey and hit the hay @tommypeden photo

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Cheers for the great times gents!

Cuntry Fangin’ Part One: Millthorpe Bound

For some, chanting mantras brings their mind stillness. Being in the present, not troubling yourself with the future or the past. What is done is done and predicting the future is futile, yet the mind feebly churns over the details like it has relevance. The present, that fleeting moment where your mind is still and content with the task at hand, that my friends is what life is about.

Let’s not sugar coat it, chanting mantras is pretty bloody dull. I’m not alone in having a chuckle at the happy clappers in church getting lost in the evangelical trancendance of hymns. Hey no judgement here it’s just not for me. It’s all a means to an end, being lost in the present. The now. No more no less.

When you are on full boost exiting a corner in a high performance car, launching a motor bike, playing guitar on stage, sparring in boxing, painting or being moved by a musician…you are not thinking about when the gas bill is due. You are transfixed by the concentration of the enjoyable task at hand.

I am fortunate to surround myself with passionate people that grab life by the horns in a variety of ways. Sure, we all get caught in the mundane. Some would argue that physical pursuits are fleeting and temporary, and the consciousness itself should be nurtured. Yeah maybe, but I am no Yogi. I’m sure a full speed, just hanging on grind feels as good as it can get. That is my meditation.

Forgive me, I digress. It was time to escape the task of earning a living and hit the road. This should serve to light a fire under the arse of my skateboarding brethren to come along next time, we could have hit more spots with more crew. We had quality company and some Kms to slay, so we packed our gear and hit the road.

We had a burger and a leg stretch at the border. These drains looked promising, but no dice. Sick graff though

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Duncan hit the whippy bits with a front rock

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We then arrived at Wagga Wagga. Great chill park

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Duncan got to work and embraced his inner Ed T

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Duncan snapped a Front Feebs of me

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Cunnaz manhandled the jersey

Wallie

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Back smith

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Old mate shut down the session with a thong clad banger. Huck and exhale!

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We stocked the chilly bins and headed for the campsite. A bath in the river and a cook up. Light a fire and tell tall yarns

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We awoke in a serene environment…I took old man photographs.

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Could have done without the brutal calls of these dicks. Shit birds!

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After some internet reconnaissance we headed for Young, which wasn’t even on our radar. Some single lane road fangin’ was had, we even got a little air at one point!

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Filled up for gas and went here, it was pretty crap

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And then found Young. Behold!

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Duncan snagged a Howard grind on a cool obstacle

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Feebs in the ripper of a bowl.

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I gave the pocket a tickle. Thanks Duncan for the photo

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The local solitary skater was stoked to have some crew in town!

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Trev chilled

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And of course, old mate Cunnaz slayed the joint.

Grind up to fiddy, this obstacle was no joke!

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Fangin’ over the hip

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Charging!

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…and then on to my favourite bowl in NSW. Millthorpe. A tucked away great little food and wine town of about 800 people. The pump track is a hoot, and the bowl just works

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Duncan shot these before I had too many beers. The cradle is tight with a waterfall, so fun.

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No comply

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Duncan got a couple of publishable photos of Cunnaz here, I missed the action and was happy to heckle

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Back 180 up the step up

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And Duncan snagged a blunt slide behind the cradle

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And then it was time to cook up and set up camp for the evening, right next to the bowl. The lightning stayed on the horizon and all was good in the world.

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Cobras, Creepers and turning 38

Birthdays are somewhat a reflective time. Pushing 40 is slightly confronting when you think about it, and then it passes quickly and you revert back to not really caring. I still wanted to cram a fair bit into my weekend to briefly alleviate that completely washed up feeling. I had to work Saturday and was keen for a fang on The Grim Creepers new mini. The NSC crew and The Grim Creepers share mutual territory but so far it has been all beers, skids and deathmatch free.

The compound entrance came correct

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The kitchen had become a tattoo studio for the evening with Ratcorpse on the trigger

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Tattoos and acid do mix

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It was getting weird

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Outside was where it was all happening

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I never shoot with flash and I found a crappy one to use for the evening. I kinda blew these shots, but they still tell a story so I would rather share them then delete them

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Lexi didn’t seem to care that the heavy dew had made the ramp far too slippery to skate. He did a stationary kickflip from the platform into the ramp. He rolled in from the roof, didn’t land it after several punishing attempts and then did it switch! So sorry I blew it with the capture. You get the idea

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I called it a night and went home to rest up for a mission to sunny Melton the next day. It was a bust lately so we missioned up the creek.

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Cobras are native to the area. They kept popping up everywhere. Jerks

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It is such an epic spot. Photos don’t do it justice. It is way bigger and intimidating in person.

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Everyone got some. I always try and get a photo of everyone on the mish, unfortunately not the case this time. I was having too much fun.

Matt the ripper

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Cunnaz popped onto the big log

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Dr Anger nosepicked it

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Gez was on the trigger for a few shots. Did well son!

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Old man doing simple things poorly. Marty and Gez on the trigger respectively

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No comply

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Marty got some

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Brighty always rips

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We hit the surprisingly fun Melton park and then some crew came to mine for a BBQ. Derek and Jamie made my an epic cake with donuts and dinosaurs and my beautiful wife had the nibbles and salads ready to go.

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I took Monday off and drove through the mountains and skated Balnarring by myself. Such a fun bowl.

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And then caught up with my nephew Archie, whose birthday is 3 days before mine and my brother, who has the same birthday as me. Archie’s Mum and Grandma got him an epic sundae and he was pretty stoked.

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The best week of my life part one : Bux

I wasn’t too keen on a Bux, but with a little encouragement we threw one together. It was going to be nice weather so we gathered the crew and headed down the Peninsular. Beer always helps, and there was rules. Cans only, tape your next to your last.

First stop was Mt Eliza. Cunnaz tucked one into the deep. Tom Peden photo.

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I was taking it super easy. I was so worried about axing myself right before the wedding and blowing it. I cruised around on some 80’s style setup. Carve grind. Photo Tom Peden

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Cunnaz Krooks. Tom Peden photo.

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Next stop Pearcedale. Photo Tom Peden

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Duncan swept

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Dan slid lips

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Cunnaz front fiddy’d around the corner and yoinked her in

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Nick ruled, I only picked the camera up for about 15 minutes and missed it all. Smith

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Tom had quite a Wizard Staff by this point. Back smith

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Continuing the theme, Seany in the weird elliptical deep.

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Nosepick like a boss

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We headed to the new park at Balnarring. Its a ripper little spot, with a little pine forest to slither style camp in. After a dip at the beach, we cranked up the lights and the tunes. My brother Hugh drove down from Frankston with a gourmet spread. We might have let off a few fireworks.

All night there were hollers for tape for the next beer or breach repairs.

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Jake ollie to smith. Jake broke his collar bone at 4am and we didn’t leave until 3 the next day. Didn’t complain once! Tuff carnt! Tom Peden photo

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Cunnaz kicky back tail. Photo Tom Peden

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Nick Ollie to fakie and bean plant to fakie, 20 cans into his wizard staff. Photos Tom Peden

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These kind of shenanigans continued until 5am when we set up camp, or slept on the pine needles. Tom Peden photo

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Duncan with hair of the dog wizardry the next morning. Thankyou for everyone making the trip down and for the good times. Bat Stiffy

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