Back in 2020, I made a promise.
“A bush poem a day.”
Every day I would release another poem on the Country Campfire Bush Poetry Podcast. Some days the recordings came from well-known bush poets. Other days they came from people I’d never met before. My job was simple: find the stories, find the poems and share them.
By the time I reached Episode 75, I already knew what Episode 100 had to be.
There was only one choice.
The Man From Snowy River.
For many Australians, Banjo Paterson’s classic poem is the bush poem. We studied it at school. We watched the movie. We grew up with it. Coming from the Snowy Mountains myself, it always meant something special to me.
Episode 100 felt like a milestone.
Most podcasts never make it to ten episodes. Many never make it to one. Reaching one hundred episodes of bush poetry felt like something worth celebrating.
But I didn’t want to record The Man From Snowy River myself.
I wanted the bush poetry community to record it.
So I reached out to a group of people who had helped me along the journey. People who had contributed poems, recordings, encouragement and support throughout the first hundred episodes of the podcast.
I asked each of them to record a verse.
Together, those verses would become Episode 100.
The contributors included Bob Dungey, Bob Pacey, Corin Linch, Grant Mitchell, Ben Eggleton, Phil McManus, Marco Gliori and Jai Thoolen.
Looking back now, what makes that list special isn’t awards, titles or achievements.
It’s the people behind the names.
Every one of these people helped keep the Bush Poetry Podcast alive.
Bob Dungey, known as “The Crazy Man in the Caravan”, regularly shared poems about caravanning, camping and life on the road. His poems always made me smile and he was a fantastic supporter of the podcast.
Bob Pacey’s passion for bush poetry was infectious. After discovering his work online and reaching out, he generously shared recordings, poems and encouragement that helped keep the project moving.
Corin Linch, over in Western Australia, had one of those voices you instantly recognised. His gritty style brought every poem to life.
Grant Mitchell had contributed plenty of poetry over the years, but Episode 100 was one of the first times listeners actually heard his own voice. Up until then, I’d often been the one reciting his work.
Jai Thoolen was much the same. His poems had appeared on the podcast before, but hearing him step up and record his own verses made the episode even more special.
Phil McManus was another generous contributor who would later become a friend. Years after Episode 100, we finally met at the Man From Snowy River Festival, where he shared even more stories and recordings from the bush poetry world.
Marco Gliori was always willing to lend a hand when I reached out. His support and contributions meant a lot during those early days.
And then there was Ben Eggleton. I originally contacted Ben because I wanted permission to use a poem he had written about the Kimba silo art. He thought I might have been trying to make money from his work. Twenty-four hours later I was sitting at his place having a beer, recording a podcast and listening to stories from one of the true characters of Australian bush poetry.
The truth is that none of these people owed me anything.
But when I asked them to be part of Episode 100, every one of them stepped up.
That’s why this episode meant so much to me.
It wasn’t just a celebration of The Man From Snowy River.
It was a celebration of the people who helped me reach that milestone.
The recordings arrived one by one.
Different voices.
Different styles.
Different personalities.
Some contributors recorded a single verse. Others recorded more than one. Every voice brought something unique to the finished piece.
I stitched the audio together while working away on the Snowy project. The internet wasn’t great, the setup wasn’t fancy and the editing was done with little more than determination and a copy of Audacity.
But bush poetry has never been about perfect production.
It’s about the story.
When I finally listened to the completed episode, it was everything I had hoped it would be.
Eight Australians.
Eight voices.
One poem.
One story.
Looking back now, five years later, I still think it’s my favourite episode I’ve ever produced.
Not because it was perfect.
Not because it got the most downloads.
But because it captured exactly what I hoped Country Campfire could become.
People from around Australia gathering around a digital campfire to tell a story together.
The podcast still sits online today.
Many of the contributors are still writing, performing and keeping the tradition of bush poetry alive.
Listening to it again recently reminded me why Country Campfire existed in the first place.
Not for page views.
Not for statistics.
Not for money.
For stories.
For people.
For community.
For keeping a small piece of Australian culture alive for the next generation.
Episode 100 wasn’t just another podcast episode.
It was Country Campfire in its purest form.
And five years later, I’m still incredibly proud of it.
