Wednesday 4th November 2015 - Wollemi National Park

Well maybe we are soft; yes we are soft, really soft. Why you ask? Well after a few hectic days in Sydney (laid back and boring to anyone under thirty who has never had kids) - then a couple of days drizzle, we are worn down and ready for some sunshine and peace.

So this morning we gathered up the goods and chattels, dropped the lid and ventured out into the fog. We ground our way up the hill that towers over Wiseman's Ferry. It is steep, it is twisty, it was wet and it was slippery. The road back to Windsor looked different covered with clouds - not like heaven, no angels with harps and such, unless this is heaven for truck drivers cause there were still plenty of trucks hauling sand and gravel.

In Richmond we went shopping and the only event of note was Sue bought a bottle of whisky and then promptly left it on the counter and walked out a changed woman. Oh no not reformed, just despondent when many miles later she realized what she had done.

Navigation is a subject of some interest to us as we try and find our way to various places. Now we have not found a single solution. Today we needed two guidebooks, an atlas, a map and the Navigation unit in our car to find a campground. Some said it exists, other that they had heard rumours of it, some shrugged their shoulders and finally we were able to connect the dots and find our way in. The labyrinth - that is what it is. Also Hema maps are like the Harley Davidsons of the map world - so well marketed that people think they are getting something really good when what they get is passable.

The road into Wheeney Creek campground is steep, gravel and in some places a little in need of maintenance. No worries for a VW transporter (well it would need a lift kit of course) and probably an extra low first gear - then Mal is sure it would be able to get in.

No camping fees, no facilities, just some grass and fire rings above a slow moving creek. Shallow water that is clear and with a sandy beach. The trees tower up to where the cockatoos reign supreme. Down in the forest smaller birds flit through the trees and the rain falls steadily onto the leaves in a natural melody like fingers onto a pianos keys.

Night slides in and gradually massages the details from the trees. We saw a wombat hole; he has not put his gumboots and umbrella next to his doormat ready for an evening out. So we pack it in and go off to bed.

Thursday 5th November

Down in the depths of the forest where birds do what people do not see, we awoke to rain falling steadily on the roof. The immense trees reached their green bouquets of leaves into the mist. The trunks in the campground scarred by the orcs that frequent the campground from the not distant enough city.

We consider the steep climb out and the dark moisture laden sky and we sit. Sue tries to nab a photo of the red browed French fry (finch) which was collecting building materials from it's local Bunning's store by our window.

Eventually the rain eased and we packed up and crawled up the hill. We were heading somewhere else but Mal spotted a small track leading to a lookout. While Mal grappled with the question of how to turn around at the bottom a small white car pulled in and blocked our retreat. To keep the peace we drove down the track. At the end we had space to turn and park, the people in the white car just turned without stopping and drove off back up the track. Never try to fathom out why people do what they do, it does our head in.

Now the track was encrusted with wild flowers which looked sumptuous with a fine dusting of water drops and as Mal broke out onto an escarpment, the clouds were sweeping in across the revealed headlands like wild surf beaten by the stiff hand of the wind.

The clouds filled the valley and then ran back to Mal's imaginary ocean and then drifted back in obscuring and then revealing. The rocks the trees, not a house in sight just the ridgelines unspoiled by man's industry and self-interest.

We retired to the Eco Resort for lunch and then returned to see the final act of the play. The clouds were still interacting with the cliff but the Sun God was exerting it's strong hand, dispersing the clouds and revealing other players, with strong ochre cloaks that plummeted to the valley floor.