Into the wild

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North bound on the Stuart Highway, I made a stop at Bitter Thermal Springs. This small oasis in the middle of the bush after hours of driving through the hot and dry heat with no air-conditioning was a welocomed sight. After a short walk, I found the small stream, running clear and cooler then the air I was constantly breathing, and after a quick look for croc's, I jumped in. Much to my surprise, it was deceptively deep with a strong current. Back to shore I dog paddled to grab a tree root and pull myself to safety. After sitting there and enjoying the quite moment, an Australian family appeared, an older couple with thier daughter. We got to visiting and before to long the father begins to tell me about the time when he was attacked by a crocodile. The story went like this, ' I was on the piss with me mate, (which means he was drinking heavily) standing on the bank of a river when all of a sudden this croc jumps up and bites me legs. I yelled to me mate, who was more pissed then I, to shoot the bastard. So he picks up his gun and shoots. But he missed and shot me in the back of me leg. ( at which time he pulls up his swim shorts to show me the bullet hole, and the teeth marks on both legs ) I kept yelling at me mate, shoot again, ya missed the bastard, eventually me mate got him.' Probably the most amazing part of this story is how funny he told the horrible event, laughing about it all the way through. He was a dairyman from Victoria, but he was unlike any dairyman I've ever met, and I've met a few.

Stopping in Katherine for a couple of days, I found the heat to be boiling hot, the kind of hot where you can't even touch the steering wheel of the car hot. So after exploring Katherine Gorge, I headed west to Kununurra, the jumping off point in Western Australia for exploring the Kimberelys. Arriving 5 days early in Kununurra, I suddenly found myself searching for ways to fill time in a small town. I soon discovered a 3 day trip down the Ord River. Since they wouldn't let me canoe by myself, I scrammbled around and found a canoeing mate from Britain game for the idea, so it was all systems go. The company provided all the gear, a self guided map, camp sights, all we needed was to buy the food we wanted to eat for 3 days. I love being outside in nature and was thoroughly relishing the idea of floating down the river that meanders through such a harsh place. As we shoved off from shore, I spied a crocidile swiming away, and knew this going to be an interesting trip. The water was fresh and clean enough to drink. Daniel, my partner in all this had little canoeing experience, but was totally up for the adventure that layed ahead.

By the way, fresh water crocs, which they call 'freshies', are not known for being man hunters, so their wasn't much to be concerned about, but I still wasn't interested in becoming the first case to find out that things had changed. So I kept my guard, and stories of poking out the eyes of the croc if you're attacked floated through my mind from time to time. Yeh right.

Down the river we went, with gorgeous parrots flying about, fascinating trees lining the banks of the river, and a plenty of sunshine. We came around one bend in the river to discover the trees filled with bats, big @#%$!! bats that is, with wing spans of 3-4 feet.

They call them flying foxes, I called them with all of my scientific knowledge and studies, big hairy bats. :) Throughout the day, we would stop somewhere along the river, jump in and cool ourselves off, or find some shade created by a cliff and soak up a cool breeze for a moment. The heat was intense, but the desire to explore nevers backs away from a little heat, and on we went. Finally coming to our first campsite, we went about the chores of setting up camp and preparing for the nights dinner. While breaking up the wood for the fire, a piece jumped back at me and caught my leg. It was at that time that I realized that I didn't have any first aid kit, so I let it bleed until it scabbed over. I've never seen wood as hard and dry as this, it burned so easy that it made me a little uneasy sleeping in the middle of the bush that was more like a tinder box. Pouring water over the campfire, eventually it was time to slip into our Mozzy domes before the mosquitos really came out for dinner. Mozzy domes are a mesh tent that allow you to sleep under the stars without getting eaten alive through out the night. There's is something special about waking up in the middle of the night opening your eyes, and having them be filled with the many lights that fill the night time sky. One time I awoke, looking over at the camp fire, I noticed it had restarted. It reminded me of something I heard a local person say once, this place loves to burn so be carful. Not really wanting to leave my safe haven of the mozzy dome, I layed there watching it for the next hour as it finally burned itself out.

When you sleep outside, you do something I almost never do, you get up with the sun, or you get baked. And with that, day two began. Off we went to explore more spetacular sights, and the quietness a river brings. The red cliffs dropped straight into the river, and in the right moments you could create a perfect echo. As the day wore on, Daniel began to feel the impact of the sun and was showing signs of heat exhaustion. We finally pulled into camp, and while I was gathering firewood, I evaluated the situation. The last day of the trip was supposed to be with no current as the river apporaches the next dam, it becomes another lake. We had encountered some strong head winds, which with no current, means hard work in the sun. So, I ran an idea past Daniel, to do the rest of the trip that night. He was in favor of being out of the sun. So as he rested, I gathered firewood to cook dinner. After eating, and snuffing out the fire, and as dusk approached we shoved off from shore. I will admit this a little risky going down a river I've never been on before at night, but I was excited at the challenge, and the unforeseen adventure. As the night time sky chased the light blue skies to the west and transformed it into a diamond filled ceiling, the winds began to drop off and soon silence filled the air. Before long, the was a glow on the horizon, a 3/4 moon was in process of showing us our way home. The evening glowed and the water was completely still, it was like canoeing on top of a piece of glass as the canoe sliced the perfect still surface. It felt like we were canoeing into a black and white photograph, as things began to loose there three demensional value. A sense of the sureal fell upon me. I smiled.

As we approached home, a motor boat went zooming by us. I flashed my torch a few times so he could see us. All I could hear coming from there boat was, ' it's a bloody fucking canoe, they should have been back hours ago, crazy basterds.' I just laughed.

Four hours later, we pulled into home port. After a 40 minute walk to my hostel. I hopped into my car to go get Daniel and our gear. Tired, but feeling pretty good, we slipped back into the hostel and fell fast asleep.