The Death of the Jetboil – A Camping Tale

One of the funniest camping trips of my life, no question.

Nat and I had planned to join a few of the other Astro Chicks from the Perth & Surrounds group I started a while back and now co-admin with Nat.

The others bailed because the spot they were at wasn’t quite right, Nat and I? We were still keen. I wanted to test out car camping and while the stars weren’t looking promising, storms definitely were.

So off we went, about two hours out of Perth to a little gem called Toapin Weir with flushing toilets, toilet paper and a sparkling clean bathroom. Luxury!

We had an epic evening doing some Salt Lake drone and sunset photography. We scored some beautiful shots, had a yarn about photography over dinner and settled in for the night.

Now, I’d brought blinds for full blackout in the car, but honestly, it was so dark and lovely already I didn’t bother. The wind picked up and I was getting sleepy, so I jumped into the car to sleep. That’s when I realised I was parked facing downhill, feet-first. Cue my feet swelling from gravity.

After an hour or so I hop out to turn the car around, except my car has fancy seat memory settings. I turn it on and the seat auto-adjusts way back to my setting, promptly squishing itself against the tubs in the back. The seat and tubs are having a punch-on while I’m crying with laughter, trying to stay quiet at 11pm.

Eventually I gave up, curled into a human croissant and tried to sleep.

That’s when I noticed flashing. Not from the car - lightning. A text rolls in from my mate Gav: “Storms headed your way!” So I get out of the car and Nat gets up too, we’re off again!

We headed to a spot but got stuck with a fallen down tree, we turned around a went back and found a spot.

We set up (don’t ask me where) and I decide it’s time for a coffee. We’re clearly staying up all night. I go to light the Jetboil, using parts of mine and Nat’s combined because, you know, chaos. I think I forgot to turn off the gas properly because the moment I lit it - BOOM. A fireball in my hand.

Now, instead of calmly turning off the gas like a sensible human, I yeeted the whole thing away from me. It landed in gravel (thank god) and we both just stood there screaming and laughing like maniacs.

We tried digging sand to throw on it - ever dug in the summer in the Wheatbelt? Might as well use a spoon on concrete. Then I had visions of my car going up in flames (knowing my luck) so I jumped in, left the door open, while poor Nat’s just watching this unfold.

Eventually, the thing exploded and melted itself into oblivion and we were wheezing, hiding behind Nat’s car trying to recover from laughing so hard.

Once we confirmed nothing was on fire and no one was about to call the cops, we bolted - partly because we saw lights up the hill and weren’t sure if it was another photographer or someone wondering about the mini explosion.

We ended up finding another storm-chasing spot and shot through the night.

All up? One of the best, funniest weekends ever, full of storms, banter, chaos and cameras. I need a new Jetboil. And a mattress. But it was so worth it.

Stay tuned for more ridiculous adventures.