Day 4 – Wilpena Pound to Red Hill Camp – 29.72km

Total Distance – 94km

A Heysen Trail story

Epic.  Epic.  Epic.  That’s all you can say about this day.  The distance.  The weather.  The stunning, stunning scenery.  And.  The disaster.

Let’s start with the good stuff.  Last night was very, very chilly.  I left the restaurant amidst steams of fog from my breath.  It was going to be a cold one indeed.  The sleeping bag was up to the job.  I just kept having to wake up every time I turned over to tuck in all the sides.  Luckily, I slept very well.  So it wasn’t too much of an issue.

As I packed up this morning, I had a gentleman approach me.  Asked if I was doing the Heysen.  Made a bit of small talk.  As he left he told me I was very inspirational.  What a nice thing to say!  I don’t feel that way myself…but it certainly made me feel good.  That I might inspire other people just by doing something I love.

Overcast plains

I got underway in the chilly morning.  Rain clouds loomed overhead.  It was a quick 8km along flat, blue mallee country to the base of Bridle Gap.  From there, not a difficult couple of kilometers to the gap itself.  On the way it started to rain.  Very quick and feathery.  Like a mist but harder.  The overcast sky puts the splendour of the mountains in sharp relief.

The mists start rolling in

At the gap, I was unsurprised to find two men.  I had been following their footprints all morning.  Sadly, I didn’t catch their names, though it turned out one of them had finished a section hike of the Heysen just two weeks previously.  We admired the view.  Completely epic.  Formation after formation of huge mountains stretching as far as the eye could see.  I grabbed my pack and they offered to take a photo for me.  So very nice of them.  One of them then told me I was very inspirational.  His exact words.  Twice in one morning!  Maybe I AM really trying to do something very special.  You can’t beat that sort of spontaneous sentiment. So kind. And provides much motivation to keep going!

View from the gap
Photo taken by two kind strangers

I got going.  A rocky scramble down the mountain followed by walking in the ancient river beds.  The size of the river red gums needs to be seen to be believed.  All the while, the rain continued to fall.

Leaving the Ikara-Filnders National Park

I had left the Ikara-Flinders Ranges National Park and now entered the Arkaba Wildlife Conservancy. I followed a fence line through lush green paddocks.  Mountains on all sides.  Green in the desert SO ridiculously abundant.  The wind began to pick up, until it was howling with blustery rain.  Nothing for it but to push on.  The amazing scenery a perfect antithesis to the less than perfect weather. 

Potential shelter??

I reached the range I had viewed this morning from the Gap.  Now, I walked adjacent to it, headed south towards the hut.  The afternoons walk was gently undulating and stunning.  The wind and rain couldn’t put a dampener on it.

Eventually I reached the camp, relieved that the rain seemed to have stopped and the wind died down a little.  I went about unpacking my gear and setting up as per usual.  That is.  Until I got to my tent pole…

Now, I have an MSR Hubba Hubba.  Again, an expensive tent – $900 quid or so.  And this tent has only done about 250km. The MSR Hubba Hubba is built on its “shock proof” poles that can stand up to anything!  Apparently not so.  Must have been this morning, as I was packing up, one of the aluminium sliders that holds the parts of the pole together has fallen off.  Or broken.  Or something.  I have no idea.  I just know that it is not there now.  And I had no idea that it was even missing.  I thought the poles had packed up just fine.  Just the same as normal.

But no.  And now my tent won’t stand up properly.  It looks like Frankenstein.  And silly me – not thinking for a second that it would be the poles that I had a problem with – didn’t pack anything to potentially fix it.  At the moment it’s held up with my Covid facemask.  Yes, you read that right.  My mask is cushioning the problem, so that hopefully my tent fly doesn’t end up with a hole in it from rubbing on the raw metal edge of the pole piece. 

Ingenious. Pure ingenuity.

I’m sitting in here now.  Although I feel rather secure at the minute, if it rains or becomes breezy again, things may get a little dicey.  It is currently 4 degrees, and keeping my things dry is the top priority.

So now my plan is to get to Hawker in two days time and think about replacements for BOTH my sleeping bag AND my tent.  I can’t believe it!  I’m holding up my end of the bargain!  I walked close to friggin’ 30km today.  And no worse for wear.  Tiny blister developing.  Legs a little sore.  But nothing major.  Not like my gear.  My supposedly excellent gear that seems determined to make things as difficult as possible for me.  Well I’ve got news for them.  I’ve survived a lot worse than this.  They don’t  know who they’re dealing with if they think gear breakage is going to stop me!  And luckily there is a potential sleeping hut at the next camp site….

It’s also just a real shame that the tent issue overshadowed what was a truely epic day in which I was really proud of myself.  Not only for the distance travelled, but also for the positive frame of mind I had all day under less than favourable weather conditions.  The scenery and the variety of the trail was the absolute winner. 

Day 3 – Yanyanna Hut to Wilpena Pound – 24km

Total Distance – 66.8km

A Heysen Trail story

Well. I’m not sure of my decision to move into the tent. It rained all night long. 10% chance of rain – not so weather forecast. Not so.

I didn’t sleep well again. The sleeping bag. Boiling feet one minute and frozen as an icecube the next. During the night I decided I would spend an extra night in Hawker and try to sort out a new bag. This is a once in a lifetime trip. I need to enjoy my sleeping arrangements.

So, it was an early start again. And wet. Rain sprinkled haphazardly and the valleys were full of misty wonder. It occurs to me that it is a blessing to see the desert looking so moist and mysterious.

Foggy, wet morning

The beginning and the end of the walk today are the real highlights. To start, it’s up and up and up. Green vistas all around and made even more special by the slinking fog. I spy a group of 10 wallabies high in the rocks in the distance. I’d really like to think they were yellow footed rock wallabies. That would be ace.

Cloud looms

The hilltops give way to big old riverbeds. Massive red river gums caretakers of the creeks. The rain has left moisture in the cracks and fissures. Birds, including two huge wedge tailed eagles swoop overhead.

Evidence of recent rains

The middle section of the walk follows the same track as the Mawson bike trail. Makes for easy walking over undulating hills. The pure abundance of rain is evident here in the verdant green pastures surrounding the trail. Roos startle me as they go about their business. A little joey gets too close, and the mother rouses at it to move away.

The final section of the trail is also relatively flat, though the huge bluffs of the pound begin to dominate the environment. It is an absolute pleasure to feel so small. Surrounded by these giants of rock.

Track into Wilpena Pound

I arrive at the campground by 2.30pm. Again, I’m really happy with how my body is going. Today seemed much simpler than yesterday – even though it was quite a bit hillier.

I set up my tent and dry it out. Book a meal in the restaurant. Have a long, hot, steaming shower that soothes my tired muscles. Throw on my town clothes. As I said to my support crew – I felt like a million dollars.

Having completed my resupply for a couple of days I was able to ring the head of my support crew. It was so good to chat to him and see him ever so briefly. The wifi here really isn’t very good.

I type this now in the restaurant having had a great burger and fries. It’s almost 7.30pm and I can feel my eyes beginning to fade. The time has come to roll into bed and get some rest. I’ve decided on a big, big day tomorrow….maybe.

People, track notes and other stuff

I ran into a total of two people on the track today. A couple of grizzled, old men (in the best possible way) with long scraggly white beards and colourful hats. They were riding electric bikes along the Mawson track and carrying a picnic to consume at the gorge. How pleasant to have a little conversation about the magnificence of the scenery.

The campsite is HUGE! Though there doesn’t seem a huge number of people here. Covid maybe? The IGA is well stocked with heaps of good resupply options. The shower is bloody brilliant. Good spray and hot, hot, hot. Free wifi at the visitor centre, IGA and resort, though it seems to work much better at the resort. And even that, isn’t great.

Day 2 – Aroona Ruins to Yanyanna Hut – 25.4km

Total Distance – 42.8km

A Heysen Trail story

What a day.  What a day.  What a day!  Seriously, that was one of the best day walks I have ever done.  EVER!

Once again I was packed up early.  Once again, I was contemplating my dud of a sleeping bag.  I’m not sure what to do about that yet…

I was rather nervous about today’s hike.  25km might have been rather ambitious on the second day.  Now that I was out here.  Combined with that, was the rather steep looking hill that exited the campsite.  My plan was to walk 5km.  Rest.  And repeat.  If I was feeling uninspired, I could make the decision to stop.

Nothing for it but to go.  So up I went.  It wasn’t too bad!  And the higher it got, the better the view got as well.  It was absolutely amazing.  Mountains in a circular panorama.  In hues of red, dark green, and gold.  The colours showing up brilliantly in the overcast light.

It felt a privilege to be there.  To have the opportunity to see this sublime setting.  I have not seen any views in this world that were better than this.  Nature is sometimes just spectacular.

First selfie with the high views!
Top of the world

This was just the motivation I needed, and I powered on without really thinking about it.  Before too long I had racked up the first 10km.  And finished all the hill climbs for the day.  I felt very pleased with myself.

My favourite part of the track. Coming down off the high point
Normally dry creeks were flush with moisture

Th second section of the day, though just as beautiful scenery wise, was a little more difficult.  The small walking track became a bike path and the wind started to rise.  Cranky and wild, it seemed to want to stifle my progress.  Make me work for my achievement.

Beautiful, windblown plain
Ruin in the field. I’m sure I will become obsessed with these

And so I did.  It was a blessed relief to finally spot the hut and stagger into camp.  In hindsight, I wasn’t too bad.  Tired feet and legs, but that passed fairly quickly.  No aches from the backpack.  Slightly dehydrated from scurrying along in the gale force winds all afternoon.  Nothing that a night’s rest won’t fix.

The dastardly wind drove me indoors.  The hut was a dark, corrogated iron shelter with a concrete floor, rickety table and a chair that looked ready to collapse if someone sat in it.  I opened the sealed food storage box and found mouse droppings galore inside.  This didn’t bode well.  But neither did the blustery winds.  I decided to set my tent up inside.

Sheltering

Not long after that several things happened.  A couple turned up – the first I had seen “on the track” all day.  They were looking for Dani, a hiker coming northbound from Wilpena Pound.  They had met Dani earlier in the day and decided to come back to see her and offer her a bottle of fresh water.

We got to talking.  Dani hadn’t showed up yet…they didn’t offer the bottle to me.  That’s a joke!  They were very lovely and are almost finished their sectional hike of the Heysen.  And then Dani herself arrived.  Rainbow coloured beanie glistening like a mirrorball in the distance.  And then the couple’s two friends arrived.  And then Dani’s parents arrived.  And by this time I had decided to hightail it out of the hut and set up my tent.  No one wants to hear me screaming at a mouse in the middle of the night.

Dani’s parents stayed for dinner and set a roaring, warm fire in the pit.  They cooked meat and toasted sandwiches on a grill over the fire.  I ate my dehydrated meal.  Again, I joke!  It was really great having some company and talking the trail.  Dani is just a couple of day’s away from completing the whole thing.  And obviously had the time of her life.  It was very inspiring.

The party broke up when it started to rain.  I scrambled to my tent where I sit writing this.  The gusts have died off significantly and the rain is oh so gently pattering on the roof.  I predict a good nights sleep coming up.

Track notes, people and other things.

At Aroona Ruins I also met Dianne.  She is taking her time to walk into Wilpena Pound and then back again.  She very kindly came over this morning and offered to take a couple of photos for me.  It’s tricky when you are by yourself!  So that was very nice of her.

Ready to go that way! Thanks Diane!

I don’t know if it’s just me, but I found all the signage in the initial stages of the walk rather confusing this morning.  There seemed to be Heysen stickers on everything and leading everywhere.  I used Guthooks just to make sure.  Basically follow the road up the hill until you reach the junction at Y5 and then turn off the road.  No further use of Guthooks required for the day.

The other  public service announcement is that if you are walking southbound, do not expect to see the hut appear as a mirage off in the distance encouraging you to walk towards it.  You see the hut when you are bang on it.  And not a moment before.  That whole 25km (if travelling from Aroona) is on you!

Day 1 – Parachilna Gorge Walk in Camp to Aroona Ruins Camp – 18km (July 30th 2021)

A Heysen Trail story

After my sleeping bag fiasco I slept fitfully until around 6am. It was still dark, but I brewed myself up a mocha and started my pack up.

Cuppa tastes good even though sleeping bag is screwed!

It’s always the case at the start of a walk, but my stuff just wasn’t going into the bag as neatly as I would have liked. After a “That’ll have to do moment”, I got over my bulging pack, hoisted it on, and set off.

The walk was amazing. Just perfect for the first day. Stunning scenery in every direction, and best of all, relatively flat. Nothing more difficult than some rocky creekbeds.

Distant mountains
Rocky slope
Sky to infinity

The ranges soared above the gorge on both sides. A stunning mix of red and green. Down in the creek beds, wash outs of pure, red ochre lined the way. The track on the ridgetop varied from thick green pine forest, to bare, rocky scrub. It was amazing.

I saw a variety of wildlife – roos, some Port Lincoln Ringneck parrots, but the absolute highlight was observing a mother emu with her five baby chicks. Scurrying off together when they saw me. The size of the emu is immense, and to see one in the wild absolutely made my day.

Mama emu
Baby emus

The most spectacular scenery was reserved for right at the end of the walk near the Aroona ruins. Out of this world views. I’m once again looking forward to sunset.

View to Aroona Ruins

I’ve spent the afternoon trying to rest up my legs. I got here fairly early, around 1pm. I probably should have taken it slower. I’m acutely aware that I’m not as fit as I would like to be moving forward. And tomorrow is a big day – 25km or so to reach my target. I can see a rather large hill climb straight off the bat too. Of course, if I’m struggling I don’t have to go quite as far. It’s just that I’ve booked into the campground at Wilpena Pound on Sunday night. But if I don’t make it till Monday, I don’t make it till Monday. Will just need to really pace myself tomorrow…and not be too stubborn about stopping early if I have to! I have the food, so that’s no worries. It’s my stubbornness that’s the issue!

Track notes, people and other things.

The track is reasonably marked with both signs and flagging tape. I didn’t get lost, so that means there is probably is enough of it to satisfy most people.

12km in is Pigeon Bore – a source of reliable water. There are some nice campsites quite close to bore – even with little bench seats!

I saw no one of the track all day. There are a few people at the camp ground which needs to be booked prior to arriving. There are plenty of toilets (and even paper!) and taps which pump out spring water.

There is a nice little table and chairs, hidden off to the side in the bus parking area, that is great to sit at and rest weary legs. I can vouch for that right now!

Parachilna Gorge Walk in Camp

A Heysen Trail story

I’m here! It all feels a little surreal as I look around at where I am. A rock strewn campsite, dwarfed by mountains. Not even a bird calling. Remote and ancient. Wild and mine.

The start of the Heysen Trail!

I sit under the mountains contemplating my next few months. 1200km. It’s a hell of a long way. And put into perspective by the several hours of driving to arrive here. The challenge is daunting. But I’m excited! Really excited! I think I can do this.

Under the mountains
Very first camp site

My plan over the next couple of weeks is to take it slowly. Ease into it. I didn’t get to do my training hike remember? And these mountains are no joke. I read somewhere that to walk the Heysen is to walk the equivalent elevation as ascending Mt Everest two and a half times. Yep….daunting alright. But legs can get you anywhere if you give them the opportunity. And I intend to look after mine.

Pointing out the direction I’m going – South!

It’s so quiet. So, so quiet. A crow calls in the distance. A kangaroo silently lumbers though the campsite before bounding away. It’s warm. The sun about an hour away from setting. I’m looking forward to that. All the pinks and oranges lighting up the rocky escarpment.

I see plants I recognise. Bush tomatos, the mighty river red gums, delicate fan flowers. And spinifex. I’m back in tjampi country. It feels so familiar to me. Even though I’ve never been here before. It’s comforting. And I’m suddenly so excited I could burst. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I’m on my way.

Night walk

I watch the sunset and make my dinner. Go for a half hour night walk up the track using my torch. The trail markers glow in the dark. I startle a couple of roos. The sky is brilliant with stars.I get back and fall into bed dreaming of tomorrow…it’s a good sleep too…until disaster. Time for my first gear review…

Gear Review – Sea to Summit Flame IV Sleeping Bag.

I had been looking forward to using this bag. I forked out big bucks for it in preparation for the PCT. Between $600-700 dollars from memory. This was to be one of my big, new items. Super light, but super toasty warm, rated at -10 degrees celcius.

Because of this, I hadn’t actually used the bag. All the walks I’ve done in the meantime haven’t required that level of warmth. So it’s been sitting pretty in my cupboard at home.

Sliding into the bag for the first time on the trail was a thrill. A signal that I was attempting something major. I zipped it up and drifted off to sleep. I woke at 3am needing to go outside. I pulled the zip to undo the bag. And just like that, the zipper broke. Just let go of one side of the zip. No way of fixing it. To say I am livid is an understatement. Not even one nights use. That’s just not good enough.

And I’m a Sea to Summit girl. Well, I have been. I like to support an Australian company. Amongst my current possessions I have a S2S long handled spork, little pillow, mattress protector, stow away backpack, towel. The list probably goes on.

I also had a women’s Etherlite bed matt. Also expensive ($250) and it also failed me. Remember how I said my matt had a hole in it that I couldn’t find? I’ve swapped it out now. It had less than 500km of use.

All of this has made me realise that S2S may be great at the small stuff…price point under $50. But the big, expensive stuff….I’m going to actively avoid the company from now on. Not even one use…there’s no excuse for that.

It’s not the end of the world for this trip. But it does mean that I now need to wear my thermals to bed. Something that I hadn’t wanted to do. But I’ll still be warm enough and ok. Just frigging disappointed.

Track notes, people and other things.

I got a ride to the start of the track with Genesis touring. They were great to deal with and even dropped me all the way to the track head. It was $140 for the trip – which was just in a car rather than a bus – and at the moment they only depart on a Thursday.

Driving the car was Matt, whose wife served me the day before at Paddy Pallin. There was Mal, an old diesel mechanic from the area, who was very interested in Norfolk Island. Issi is French and here on a work visa. She was headed inland to volunteer at a company doing camel expeditions for a month. And there was Dave. Dave was a fellow walker who, it turns out, was actually supposed to start the PCT last year just after me. He had already completed the first several hundred kilometers, and was going back for a crack at another 500km. It was great to talk to him about the trail before he stepped off.

I stayed at the walkers camp, about 500m from the starting point. There are no tables or toilets, but a small water tank is available. I was the only person at the campground. Seems to be turning into a habit with me….

Sign at th bus depot this morning

The lockdown has lifted!

A Heysen Trail story

I think this is happening! I really do think this is happening!! A start at least. The next time I write I’ll be on the trail. I can’t believe I’m getting this chance. I’m fired up, grateful, and, determined to make the most of it. See you on the trail…

The 1200km long Heysen Trail. I’m starting in the north and heading south.
Bag packed and ready to go. I still can’t quite believe it.

The pathway South

A Heysen Trail story

So close now. So close. It’s so tangible I feel I can literally reach out and touch the end of the lockdown. But no excitement. Not yet. It’s all too tenuous. Like fairy floss on a hot day. These hopes could all sink to nothing. The precipice between success and failure is a knife edge. And all you can do is drift…And get a vaccine. Go and get a bloody vaccine!

Well. I’ve now completed the four directions of the compass. The pathway South a mix of concrete businesses, cozy suburban streets, railway lines and parkways.

I love the little sandstone and rock houses of Adelaide. So neat, solid and natural. Each defined by the differences in stone type, garden display, lead lighting, and often, artwork.

At the 2.5km mark, I am surprised again by a group of Norfolk pines. There really aren’t many of them here in the city streets. So finding them at the limit of where I am able to travel over the last couple of days feels like a sign. Just for me.

Such a positive omen for me

I walk through pathways next to a railway line. A carpet of yellow flowers pops bright on a sunny rise. I enter an interpretive indigenous walking track called “Wirranendi”. A poem catches my eye.

“Look up into silhouettes of branches

Where magpies sing tidings

Cross the dry plains

Travel between rocks

Witness the abyss

Follow yourself in

Close your eyes

Still your mind for a while

Moon floats high in a white sky

Swallow memory and learn

The wind chases spirits through here”

Kimberley Mann

Back to the room to wait out the rest of the day.

Through the park
And another old cemetary

The pathway East….again

A Heysen Trail story

It’s D day today. In around an hour the whole state will hear whether we are on track for the lockdown to lift. Whether life can become more normal. Whether the walk might go ahead. I have butterflies in my tummy. Fear and hope mix equally. What’s it going to be?

I’ve been in this strange world of denying hope to myself. It seems too risky. Too dangerous mentally. I’ve heard the facts and figures. They couldn’t be better really. But still, my brain refuses to process it into anything that might suggest things are going to work out. Because what if they don’t? What if the dream is going to remain a dream? I can’t process that yet.

I decided to head East again today. Although windy and grey, the rain is holding off. Time to go.

At the risk of being teased into infinity by my family (on account of a long running family joke….at my expense), it’s not long until I realise I’ve been noticed. When you are planning on hiking a long way, you don’t bring many clothes. What’s the point when you just have to carry them everywhere? So I haven’t been well set up for being stuck in the city for an extra 7 days.

I’ve been wearing the same clothes this whole time. My thermals with a “town skirt” over the top. And the “problem” is that my town skirt is really distinctive, with a somewhat indigenous design on the front. The first I realised that I had been noticed was overhearing a group of four talking amongst each other…”Hey, there’s that girl in the skirt again…”And then. “Hey! HEY!!! I like your skirt!! I really like your skirt!!!”. I gave them a wave and a thanks. And then the next group. And then the next. It really is a nice skirt.

The way east wasn’t as pleasant as the previous two directions have been. The greenery wasn’t as prevalent. Tall buildings proof that you are in the midst of a city.

At the 2.5km mark, a glorious reminder of home. A solitary Norfolk pine, reaching for the sky and looking graceful despite being out of context in the city.

A glorious reminder of home in the middle of the city

The rest of the afternoon was spent refusing to think about the walk. It takes a lot of energy to try and not do something. The weather starts to clear leaving the city in an eerie yellow gloaming. My world is on tenterhooks.

Pop of colour in the city

The pathway East…interrupted

A Heysen Trail story

The big news of the day is that the glimmer of hope has become just a little bit brighter.  Another soloist.  Another person who has done the right thing.  Another person I am supremely grateful to.

It’s an extreme weather day in Adelaide. Trees have been uprooted, hail has fallen and many people are without power. Selfishly, I look out the window and think of the brimming water tanks out on the trail…

Still, I don my rain gear and get out there. I have the path east to explore. It doesn’t last long. I get to the 2.5km mark and it starts to really bluster down. I decide to call it quits – no point getting sick from a cold at this stage!

View at the 2.5km mark

Many long distance hikers carry what they call “a luxury item”. This is something that doesn’t really make sense to carry, but can add to the overall enjoyment of the trip. Think a tiny, little pillow.

I actually carry quite a number of luxury items. My Kindle for one. Can’t live without that. Another item I have on this trip is a little board game called “Gate”. I am definitely glad of it this afternoon. I battle creatures from the deep, whilst the rain pelts down. Only a couple more days until decisions will be made…..

Battle at the Gate

The pathway South

A Heysen Trail story

The lockdown continues. There is cause for a modicum of hope, as only one person tests positive. My level of gratitude to this person for having not been in the community is palpable. We are all at the mercy of each other.

Despite the image that long distance hiking appears wild and free, there is actually an inordinate level of routine involved. Wake up, coffee, pack up, walk, have a break, walk, have a break, walk, arrive at camp, set up tent, make dinner, sleep. It’s like clockwork every day.

I find that I have slipped into a daily routine in my hotel room as well. Wake, read in bed, coffee, make breakfast, wait for the press conference, wash up, watch the press conference, do my blog, have lunch, go for my 90 minute walk, get supplies, TV, bed. In it’s own way it’s just as controlled as you need to be to make it through the walking goals each day. It comforts me to think that this is mental training in its own right.

The pathway South took me through a number of parks and roadways. Whilst still grey, the air had lost its potent freeze.

View at the 2.5km mark

Highlights included listening to the guffawing rainbow lorikeets frolicking in the eucalypts. Getting drunk no doubt on the rich nectar extruding from thousands of new, plump, pink blossoms. We don’t have lorikeets on Norfolk Island, and the noise of them reminds me of childhood. Did you know however, that they have just been named one of the worst native pests in Australia? Their shear numbers and social nature mean they have the capacity to outcompete compatriate species for nest sites and that they are able to bully other species into absolute submission. They can also interrupt plant germination through their voracious seed eating. They are beautiful though. There’s no doubting that.

Fresh blossoms attracting the lorikeets

I also really enjoyed reading many of the indigenous based signage and murals around the city. It’s difficult in a mask, but drawing on years of memory to say hello to people in Pitantjatjara has felt a bit like coming home. “Wai….nyuntu palya?” “Uwa kungka”. I’m so blessed to have spent so much time with the indigenous mob in the desert.

Bush track

So the wait continues. With a tiny glimmer of hope – for the state, for the people and for my walk.

Time to head back to the city
More eucalypt lined pathways