The Rainforest Journal: Outing #14 – Day 6

(Thursday 20-November-2014)

bore·dom \ˈbȯr-dəm\ noun:the state of being weary and restless through lack of interest .



I’ve been in the same spot since August, so how could it possibly not become boring after such a long period.

I know exactly how long it will take to walk down here, how often I’ll need to walk to get water, and not only which days but what time of day is best to aquire said water without seeing another person on the trails.

Chubby little dragon.

Chubby little dragon.

I know exactly how much gas, food and power I will need to run my phone and camera the full outing and still have dinner at the end of the week, mostly.

I know all the species of animals here that are likely to interact with me as well as the time of day they will do so. No new species have ‘popped-up’ outside a Gecko and the odd Dragon or two.

I know exactly what to expect each time I arrive here on the first day of each outing; the camp to be how I left it, with at least one new rat-chewed hole in the bottom to patch-up.

I know nobody will ‘stumble’ into this area with enough certainty that I’m able to walk around completely naked all day; confident nobody will interrupt me.

I know exactly the length of time it will take to walk back to town well enough to predict when I will reach the top, accurate to within half an hour, provided nobody slows me down yapping for lengthy periods.

And I know the whether; that the westerly blows strong enough to snap huge branches and send them crashing to the ground, while the southern and northerly winds can barely be felt at all because of the cliff-lines and Mount Solitary, and that any rain forecast doesn’t usually start till late afternoon or evening.

Some kind of birds nest.

Some kind of birds nest.

Now, given how fast the phrase “I know exactly..” got old, it’s little wonder that the repetition of going back and forwards from the same campsite for nearly three months would put the yawn in me.


Since I decided to do this because I could no longer stand the hum-drum, predictable routine and yawnfest that *is* dull suburban life; everyone doing the same boring shit, going to the same boring social events, all trying to be the same boring “normal” as every other boring fuckhead on their street, yeah, considering I came out here to avoid all that predictability I’ve managed to end-up settling into a pretty damn predictable routine anyway – albeit less comfortable than the aforementioned suburban wanker shit.

The Bubba. He's quite comfortable with the noises the tent and I make now, and seems encouraged by the sound of my voice. Of course he also takes food from my hand.

The Bubba. He’s quite comfortable with the noises the tent and I make now, and seems encouraged by the sound of my voice. Of course he also takes food from my hand.

The only solution of course is to move camp; just like changing neighborhoods, but with much less to pack.

Arranging transport both to and from the Wild-dog Mountains seems pretty complicated since I cannot see anything barr a single 4WD track that goes through them and I don’t know anyone who’d taxi me out there – certainly not every fortnight.

Which leaves the Kedumba River as the only viable option, though it would easily double the time it takes to walk out there and back up; probable 6-7 hours of solid walking down, and longer for the excruciating climb back up.



I just saw a firefly for the first time ever. They look just like blinking bicycle lights that float through the air. The moment I switched my head torch of I saw the light, then seeing how it moved – about head-height – thought someone was outside the tent. Apprehensive, I watch and a moment later realize there’s no foot noise whatsoever. A few moments later it sunk in what it was, so I just sat and watched it float of down the hill.

Even if I tried to take a photo mm the light might have shown up but I doubt the camera would focus on a flying bug 20 feet away. Still, next time I’ll give it a go. They’re actually beetles – fireflies. Both males and females flash, but females sit near the ground, while males fly around looking for them.

The Rainforest Journal: Outing #14 – Day 6
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Animal-loving cleaner with a parrot.

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