Day 16 | Point Road campsite: waiting for the predicted cold front to hit

rest day

In the end I settled for being settled. Bad, bad weather is incoming later.

Point Road campsite is an isolated little nook, nestled in the melalucas, and home to a family of curious magpies. The parents, the white backed variety, have matt black colouring, those evil beaks, which spend useful time foraging, plenty to eat after the rain, and number 8 wire lower legs, tastefully blackened to match the coat. They don’t quite appreciate modern human’s requirement for some body space, soon there’s 3 fledgelings all too close and regarding me with 5 sets of deep brown eyes.

Later in the morning, the rear mudguard sorted, I wander back down to the shore, Slopeys is a surfing spot, one of 100 along here, although there’s no takers today. Out here, deep in the National Park I feel I’ve got the full she bang to myself.

Others have memorable names: Grunters, Joey’s Nose, Nowheres, Other Side of the Moon, The Three Bears, Shivery Rock, Goannas, less appealing there’s The Gallows and The Guillotine.

It looks ominous, there’s a fierce NWer blowing and an occasional outburst from the sky. Down on the granite shoreline it’s plenty exciting, the sea is in turmoil, appearing as if painted by some crazy bi-polar artist, mindset fully on manic phase.
Waves churn into the rocky coastline, foam billows, great green gashes appear momentarily in the ocean before disappearing into white capped mountains.

There’s a wall of foreboding cloud, inky grey, heading quickly down the coast and when the rain inevitably arrives I lick some salt spray from my face and reluctantly head back to my black and white feathered companions.

Don’t think too many others will be out and about today.