08/08/2026
The Drop Bear Chronicles
Episode 4: Doug’s Rocky Road Trip
Doug had been hiding in a gum tree near a popular tourist campsite, quietly enjoying a cold Coopers Stout and watching a group of tourists struggling with their latest collection of cheap camping equipment.
Their bargain tent leaned heavily to one side, two of their chairs had already collapsed, and one bloke had spent nearly an hour trying to fit a tent pole into the wrong sleeve.
Doug shook his head.
“Bloody tourists,” he muttered. “They spend thousands travelling around Australia, then trust their backsides to a ten-dollar camping chair.”
Parked beside the campsite was a brightly painted old Kombi van. The tourists had left the windows open and, even better, the keys dangling in the ignition.
Doug looked towards the van, looked back at the tourists arguing over the tent instructions, and grinned.
He dropped silently from the tree, climbed behind the wheel and started the engine. The Kombi coughed, spluttered and backfired loudly enough to frighten every cockatoo within five kilometres.
Doug crunched it into gear and disappeared up the highway before the tourists realised what had happened.
His destination was Rockhampton, where his cousin Dennis lived in a rough little bush camp outside town.
The trip north was anything but peaceful. Doug drove with one paw on the wheel and the other hanging out the window. He ignored speed signs, waved at caravanners and stopped occasionally to raid unattended camp fridges.
By the time he reached Rockhampton, the Kombi contained three bags of ice, several meat pies, a carton of cola and enough camping gear to start a small outdoor shop.
Dennis heard the Kombi coming long before he saw it.
It rattled down the dirt track in a cloud of dust, backfiring twice before rolling to a stop beside the firepit.
Doug climbed out wearing a battered hat and a proud grin.
“Nice Kombi,” Dennis said suspiciously. “Where did you get it?”
“Tourists gave it to me,” Doug replied.
Dennis raised an eyebrow.
“Well…they left the keys in it. That’s practically an invitation.”
Dennis laughed and helped Doug unload the supplies. He then sent a message to his old mate, Bundy the Bear.
“If we’re going to hear one of Doug’s stories,” Dennis said, “we’re going to need Bundy—and plenty of rum.”
Bundy arrived shortly afterwards carrying a bottle under one arm and three sturdy Outdoor Connection Lumbar Chairs under the other.
“None of that cheap camping crap tonight,” Bundy announced. “We’re drinking in comfort.”
The three mates unfolded the padded lumbar chairs around the firepit, filled their glasses with Bundy and Coke and settled in for the evening.
Doug told them about the tourists fighting with their tent, Dennis shared stories about frightening backpackers near Mount Archer, and Bundy recalled the night he chased a camper through the bush after catching him watering down the rum.
As the fire burned brighter and the bottle became lighter, their stories grew increasingly outrageous.
Behind them sat the stolen Kombi, while nearby lay the remains of the tourists’ collapsed tent, bent poles and broken bargain camping chairs.
Bundy lifted his glass and looked at the comfortable chair beneath him.
“You know what the tourists’ biggest mistake was?” he asked.
“Leaving the keys in the Kombi?” Dennis replied.
“No,” said Bundy. “Buying cheap camping crap.”
The three bears roared with laughter, raised their Bundy and Cokes and toasted another successful Drop Bear adventure.
Somewhere far down the highway, a group of tourists was still trying to work out where their Kombi had gone.
Doug took another drink and smiled.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll give it back—once we run out of fuel.”
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