It had been a long and arduous day. We were exhausted from the trek from Wentworth through the Mungo National Park. We planned to make it to the campsite in the park, and by the time we arrived it was just on dusk, and we were both in no mood for anything to be amiss.
But not everything works the way you want, the tent was being contrary, the food we thought we’d packed securely had somehow unravelled in our packs, and we both had feet that no words could describe.
Nearby there was a town but being so fatigued we decided to make the best of what we had and rest up for the night.
My companion was being very defensive about her situation saying she wanted to be left to curl up in her sleeping bag and worry about any and everything in the morning.
So she did, leaving me to tidy our camp, secure our stuff and crawl into my own sleeping bag. By the time I did all of that she was well off to sleep, her gentle snore testament to her hard day.
The next day dawned as one full of promise, we were both rested, our feet were feeling more like feet again, and once again over our morning coffee, we poured over our map, planning our day’s adventure.