after almost 6 days in the one place I was vacating to some real accommodation at Rawnsley Park Station, and one of the last things to do was to fold up my easel. I gave the little wing nut a quick flick with my hand, my normal method to speed things along... only to my surprise some pressure seem to catapault it away and though I heard it plop down a meter or so away... after over an hour of searching I had to give up looking for it, though I did come back on a couple of occasions to resume the fruitless search...
Fortunately I had brought two easels just in case something did happen to one of them.
even the emu's seemed to wonder what was going on!
On the initial trip in 1968 I don't think I even knew what a box easel was, I did have a tripod easel and carried everything else!
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