I volunteered to walk the river, to make sure it was not above the critical height, and after a quick amble conveyed to Glen it was suitable for fording. He proceeded through. I watched from the bank, and after successfully negotiating the river, watched him continue up the steep slope on the other side. “Where you goin, Glen?” I though. I figured he would have waited for me before the ascent.
I scurried the remainder of the way across the river and was met by an excited Glen at the bottom of the hill. “Well, I was going to wait for you, but I came to this hill and I thought, Nah, better not stop.”
“And going up,” he continued, as we walked up the precipitous ascent to a section where the track was not only very steep but very angled to one side, “this bit here, I though, uh oh, we’re gonna go poomph,” indicating with his hands a tipping over motion.
But I could tell he really enjoyed the crossing. We continued to walk up to the car. “And I had water flowing around my feet too, by the way,” he said with a beam.
We arrived at Iron Range sometime past nine, chose a campsite with little haste, and cooked some sweet potatoes and sausage kebabs. Yummo! Then, very tired and very full, we climbed into our tents for a much needed rest, very unaware of the surprise in store for us later that night.
Sitting here reading this, you may think to yourself that camping in a rainforest would automatically tip one off of the greater than average chance of rain. I mean, its very name implies, if not assures, it.
Yet for some mysterious reason I have yet to explain, the tents went up without the rain covers, and we were bitterly reminded of this fact sometime in the middle of the night when the skies opened. It was like someone turned on a faucet directly above us.
What took place after was a frenzied attempt to not only find, but attach the rain cover to the tent while, simultaneously, slipping around in the mud, ice capades style – minus the elegance and grace – and being continually pummeled by an amount of water every second exceeding, I’m sure, that what goes over Niagara Falls in a comparable amount of time. Needlessly pointing out here, everything was very, very wet, and before we fell asleep and were oblivious to it, provided for an uncomfortable tenting experience.
The rain cleared before morning, and waking up was like finding yourself in another world. Since we arrived in the dark we didn’t realize the beauty surrounding us. It was a rainforest! Yes, that was conclusively established that night, but this was the much more positive aspect of it. It was, I noticed now, even complete with appropriate background sounds – exactly like the soundtracks on any stress CD’s titled “Sounds of the Rainforest”, except these were real, and came with visual equivalents. It was amazingly tranquil, and I enjoyed every solitary second of it until Glen, Sue and Fiona got up.
We started our day with a hike along the walking track through the park. Iron Range is the largest remaining area of lowland rainforest found in Australia, and is abound and diverse in animal life. The park embraces a large number of both plants and animals – birds, mammals, reptiles, insects – not found elsewhere on the continent.
