Woke up in the morning to look over a beautiful lake which we couldn't see the night before. A slow morning of breakfast and packing up and then off again to find the long lost camping ground. I located the campground on the map and set the HEMA. As we turned of the main gravel road down this goat track I looked at Wendy, her complexion changed, something similar to that of her on the Old Telegraph Track, luckily this was a lot tamer. The track was steep and rocky with one river crossing and then a beautiful camp area. Joe and I went off to gather fire wood with bow saws in hand, where the hell is the chainsaw?

Here I sit in front of the fire, drinking one too many VB’s, listening to music at Marcus' level, writing this waffle, life could be better, how?