We followed Glen to a solitary spot he found at the edge of the campground, and spent that night around the fire listening intently to stories of just how awful his trip has been. “We usually go to Frazer Island to surf, but we though of trying something new this year,” Glen was saying. “So we came up here, and everything has been going wrong. The car’s falling apart, and the thing is, it’s probably the newest old Holden you’ll ever see. We had it rebuilt especially for this trip.”

“Really,” I said.

“Oh yes; the engine, the suspension, everything. But now the engine mounts are broken, the clutch doesn’t work, and the passenger side door doesn’t open because a log hit it right on the handle!”

“Right on the handle,” We laughed. What are the odds?

“And yesterday,” Glen continued, “at the Wenlock, I was driving around to find a campsite, you know, and I finally found one with enough room for one more car. So I parked next to the other ute there to set up camp, and this guy, he just came running out in a towel telling me to piss off. I don’t know what his problem was.”

“He probably just took his Viagra and didn’t want the extra company,” Glen suggested.

“Yeah,” Glen laughed, “well when I was turning around, I was in such a rush because, you know, I had this guy screaming at me, that I backed into a tree and dented the tailgate. I bet that put a smile on the old guys face.”

“I bet,” I laughed.

Eliot Falls, and neighboring Twin Falls, were a great place to spend the day. Most people didn’t venture out to the falls, or if they did they didn’t stay for long, because it wasn’t nearly as crowded around the falls as in the camping area. Eliot were the bigger of the two falls; shaped like a “7” and dropping water three meters down its rocky escarpment to continue its flow down Eliot Creek. Directly above the falls the river has eroded into the rock a few hot tub size depressions, which, with their brilliantly clear water, were very agreeable to lounge in. Or, for a more frantic pace of aquatic events, Twin Falls offered a succession of falls which one could sit under for a therapeutic pummeling, as it were. We took full advantage of both well into the evening.

About 6 km before Eliot Falls there is a choice on how to proceed north; the Northern Bypass Road leading directly to the ferry on the Jardine River, or the OTL that continues strait to the old ford crossing through the Jardine. Our guidebook, as always, had a helpful suggestion; “If you take this road [Northern Bypass Road] you’ll miss out on some of the top spots of the trip. We’d recommend the OTL route.”

“I think we should go the OTL,” Glen was saying, guidebook in hand.

“Oh, why?”