The day started out as a typical Aussie summer morning, bright sunshine, no wind and a forecast of high temperatures with possible thunderstorms. I had always enjoyed camping in the national park and the break from work had been long anticipated. I had smothered the camp fire after demolishing the bacon and eggs so I could safely leave for a bushwalk without any fear of triggering a bushfire.
I left in a Northerly direction, towards the stream at the bottom of the gorge where I planned to have lunch, a swim and then return to camp to prepare the evening meal. Along the track I realised how alone one could be in the Australian bush. I had not seen a soul for 2 days and chances are, I wouldn't see anyone for the whole week. Of course this didn't mean it was quiet. The daily accompaniment of the cicadas was beginning, the shrill vibrations piercing the simmering heat of the day. I had removed my shirt and tied it around my waist, the sweat trickling down across my chest, before splashing into a puff of red dust on the track beside me. Soon I could hear the murmuring stream as the cooling shade of a storm cloud briefly blocked the suns burning rays.
I turned a last corner on the trail and before me, there was the billabong, silver gums reflected in a green cool shimmer. A platypus dived, mistaking me for danger. A wallaby bounced off into the nearby scrub, heading for a midday nap. And the incessant cicadas drummed on. I sat on a large flat sandstone slab overhanging the tepid water, and removed my boots and socks. From my backpack I retrieved my lunch, a bag of nuts and a juicy peach. I cooled my feet in the pool as I hungrily finished the food before lying back to relax and enjoy the moment. As I stared through the mottled grey green eucalypt canopy, I realised the storm prediction seemed to be holding true. Dark clouds crested by huge white thunder heads were tumbling across the clear blue sky and I heard a distant rumble of thunder, echoing along the valley walls. I put my socks, boots and shirt back on, readying to make a dash for cover should the sky open up.
A cool breeze announced the approaching rain, the cicadas instantly silenced from their throbbing chorus. Minutes later, the loud patter of large thunder storm drops hitting the parched ground approached my position. I ran to the small cave at the cliff base. Only two meters deep but certainly the best shelter from falling limbs or lightning available. The rain stopped after only a few minutes, but it had been heavy and cleansing. I moved back out into the steam wisping up from the still warm rocks, leaving my pack in the cave whilst I took a short walk around the billabong.
I made my way along the base of the cliff across a narrow ledge bordering the pool. Just as I made the other side to the rock platform, someone called. A little startled, I looked back and saw a woman, maybe 20 years old, standing at the narrowing path. She repeated "Could you help me get past this narrow ledge please?"
"Hi there, of course, just wait, I'll come back."
She was fit, not real tall, and had the most beautiful tanned skin, well displayed by her wet, shiny, muscular legs, beautifully displayed in short brown cotton shorts and stout leather walking boots with pink woollen socks. She had quite a large backpack, her long brown hair spread across the top, still dripping from the downpour. The size of the pack meant she couldn't navigate the narrow path unassisted. I had by now walked back to her side.
"Where are you walking to?"
She looked up at me, catching me glancing at the clinging white singlet top, her nipples poking into the wet fabric, a slightly darkened area around the peaks, emphasising how the rain had made it semi transparent. I quickly looked back into her eyes, catching her with a small grin at my discomfort in having been caught. "I'm just following the track until dark, then I'll set up camp." she answered.
"If you don't mind, I'll offer you some advice. I know this area really well and with storms around upstream, I wouldn't recommend camping any further down the track. There could be flash flooding if there's been enough rain."
"Thank you. But where should I camp then?" she teasingly enquired like a damsel in distress, looking around the surrounding bush before looking back at me melodramatically batting her eyelashes.