awildland

It looks a bleak day for a walk. The dawn is grey.  Icy rain is falling in heavy squalls. We are in a spartan, upstairs room at a pub in...

Many of our destinations are points on a map with no access track. Walks with no right or wrong way, in or out. This is one of those – ...

A country road. A flooded creek. Morning.  What do we do now? Wait. Yes, but while waiting? Trying to reach Mt Barney is starting t...

A week-day morning in Munmorah State Conservation Area and fisherman are strung along the rock shelf beneath Wybung Head casting bai...

We awake to wind roaring across the range and powerful gusts pulling the guy ropes as the tent walls flex and bend. A southerly, blowin...

Caz spots a chunk of metal half buried in the rainforest soil.   Weaving around the next few tree ferns we spot more and more small pieces...

By the time we reach camp I am barely capable of simile, let alone anything as profound as metaphor. Some adventures seem to exhaust my ...