We here discuss one of a tramp's more dirty attributes. Namely, that which consists of a mixture of rain water, (or river water, or lake water, or seawater), and soil of some kind or another. This phenomenon may also be referred to as a mud puddle.
Let us first consider what classifies a good quality mud puddle. As mentioned above, a mud puddle consists of some type of water, mixed in with soil. However, this is only a simplified example. In many cases, the stereotypical mud puddle mentioned above is not normally found in much of New Zealand’s outdoors. In some cases, the mud puddle will not only contain soil and water, but also leaves, rotten wood and/or other plant material. In some cases, if one is extremely providential, it may also contain some part, or all of, a long-deceased organism, complete with its microbiological friends. In such delightful circumstances, the mud puddle may also display the following character traits:
(1) Depth. At least up to the shins, but sometimes up to the waist;
(2) Aroma . When stepped in, a puddle of such magnificence will emit a delightful odour, which reminds one of the precipitate left in the smelly fly-blown box described elsewhere;
(3) Size. More often than not a mud puddle of this stature will be large, and will require one to churn ones way through and not be able to side step to the left or right in order to avoid the smelly affair.
Having thus described the finer points of mudpuddlology, it now seems pertinent to recount a recent experience of this science. I recall one instance when tramping with some other individuals in Lake Sumner National Park, when a mud puddle confronted us. It was of sizable proportions and looked like it was semi-dry, and quite traversable. My compatriots elected to bush bash around this water feature. However, when I noticed how much fun they were having, frolicking with bush lawyer and other prickly botanical delights, I decided to sally forth and nimbly cross the moist patch.
The first two steps were not too arduous, but when I attempted to quickly do steps three and four, I found myself in a spot of bother. Whilst attempting steps three and four, I discovered an important fact about slightly moist patches: while looking only slightly moist, beware, for they may not hold as much body weight as desired. This is the predicament I found myself in, and promptly sank into the malodorous substance up to my thighs, much to the amusement of my companions, who had safely made it across. When I managed to pull my leg out, I unleashed the smelly power which was lurking beneath the surface. As well as this, I also managed to collect a good quality sample of mud from about half a meter beneath the surface in my gaiters and on top of my boots. When I finally extracted myself out of the Sloughs of Despair, I found that I had acquired a very quick and a rather smelly instant tan.
In conclusion then, the mud puddle can cause a false sense of security that can lead to ones undoing as well as much amusement for those who don’t get stuck in them.
by Pieter Havelaar