I’d read reliably on the internet that there was a tiger snake that liked to ‘protect’ the toilet block. Luckily for me when out alone in the bush, I like to employ the “bush-wee” system and don’t even use a toilet block. So suck on that tiger snake.
There was no tiger snake guarding the toilet block, nor the camp site, nor the river banks, nor the picnic tables. In fact, I didn’t see a single snake. Probably because I was wearing my massive knee length gaiters and was carrying two hiking poles.
As with most trips in the Blue Mountains, the trip started up high, on the plateau, but only 500m from the carpark the descent started and continued down, down, down, through the swine gate, down, down further and did not stop until I reached camp about 8km away. My toes were sore, I was hot, too hot, and my ankles developed some kind of heat rash from the socks, boots, gaiters, heavy pack combined with mid-summer Australian hiking.
I got to the campsite and there was not another single soul there, heaven. I picked a camping spot that had 1) shade, 2) views, 3) Next to the creek, 4) a picnic table, 5) mown grass so I could spot any snakes. That was until dusk when literally 20 other groups of people decided to join the party. Many of which were lining up my campsite as a potential site. I sat at the picnic table watching the view but really not so passive-aggressively giving the evil eye to anyone looking to set up their tent right next to mine.
I got talking to one couple as I was letting them know about an awesome *other* campground (read: away from me) that was located just past the “caution: asbestos” sign. They could not believe that I was there on my own. I mean what was I going to do all evening? Wasn’t I going to be bored? Have I got a good book? As they left she said “I hope you make some friends”. What do you say back to that? “What are you talking about, all my friends are here, you can’t see them?”
A lullabye of half a dozen wild dogs howling at one another not far from camp was quite a relaxing way to drift off to sleep. I kept thinking about whether I should put my shoes inside the tent? Would wild dogs come and take them to chew on in the middle of the night, would I wake up to the toilet keeper tiger snake curled up keeping warm inside?
I woke at the butt crack of dawn. 5 am. After I heard chewing of grass in the vicinity of my head. 90% certain it was Kangaroo. 5% chance of wombat. 5% chance of it being a wild dog actually chewing on my shoes. Given the heat of the day before, my strange ankle rash and that I had an 8km all uphill hike, I opted to be out by 7am. I am never up by 7am. Never. Especially on a Sunday.
It took 3.5 hours to get back up all the hills. I allow myself to stop as many times as I want, but honestly, after a while, you do find a rhythm and just keep going, albeit slowly. Only being passed by one other hiking group, I was pretty pleased with my hill climbing efforts. I came across 4 hikers going opposite to me, towards the camp. Jokingly they told me my massive pack meant that I must be carrying too much extra stuff. Once I explained that I was on my own and that meant I had to carry everything myself, and not divide it up between a group of 4, they nodded, quietly continuing on their way.
I wonder if they met the tiger snake at the toilet block.
Note: My shoes were not stolen by wild dogs.
