2025-06-06 -37 149

Location

In the bush near Cemetery Track, north of Cann River.

Participants

Stevage
KT

Expedition

It's the last day of an 11 day train/kayak/car trip through New South Wales and the south eastern coast of Australia for me, and the end of a month long adventure featuring a week surrounded by floodwaters for KT. Can we end it with a bang?

We're camped in the town of Mallacoota, at the extreme eastern end of Victoria. A small town perched on the edge of an extensive series of lakes connected to the ocean, a bit of a paradise for fishing and boating.

For me, it holds a special appeal: Mallacoota is a locked graticule, and would allow me to extend my 7-in-a-row by one more.

The day begins with a sore back waking me at 5am. I can't seem to get comfortable, and after KT half-wakes at 6, we spy the makings of a glorious sunrise outside that demands our attention. I lug our faithful blankie over to a park bench overlooking the incredibly peaceful lakes and suddenly KT appears with two takeaway coffees from an improbably early-opening cafe/bakery across the road. It's an amazing start to the day, but it's about to get better.

The sunrise erupts into something spectacular, then a little splash and a ripple in the still waters catches our attention. It didn't look like a fish. Or a cormorant. What could it be?

We abandon the blankie to investigate, chasing the series of ripples along the water's edge past jetties and mooring posts. A brown shape reappears periodically until there is no doubt: it's a seal! Exuberantly, we follow it up and down the lake, where the sunrise keeps adding to the beauty.

Sunrise at Mallacoota. The ripples in the distance, directly in line with the sun, are the seal.

Of course, I have glanced at the day's geohash, and, as often happens, I'm a bit sleepy and grumpy when I do, and immediately dismiss it as impossible: a long way from a track that is probably four-wheel-drive only, and too far from our route home to Melbourne - a six hour drive away. But KT demands a second look, and we realise that it will only add 20 minutes to our route to at least assess if the track is driveable. And even if it isn't, walking in from the sealed road is not out of the question. And we're up earlier than we'd anticipated so...let's do it!

The drive to Cann River is just as windy and scenic as on the way in. The town holds special relevance for me: returning from a camping trip to Croajingalong National Park many years ago, we were stopped by police here and told that the road to Melbourne was now closed due to bushfires, and we'd have to detour via Canberra! A 6 hour drive turned into an epic, finally getting home at 5am the next morning.

We stop for a quick second breakfast, and head north. We need to get to Cemetery Track, which can be reached by at least half a dozen different tracks connecting to the highway. The first one is closed for some kind of fire management work. The second one is immediately blocked by a huge puddle, conjuring up nightmares of the last time we got the Yaris bogged while geohashing. But the third one was juuuust riiiight. There's an interesting-looking historic schoolhouse to our right, but we're on a mission here.

Boldly we head up Magazine Track. I'm more than a bit apprehensive about how far we'll get up this track in the tiny two-wheel drive hatchback. If we have to walk, this is not the shortest way in. But KT is keen, so we press on.

The track is a little rough, but not terrible. There's a brief moment of trouble when we take a turn across a washed out junction and the car gets briefly beached. But we reverse out carefully and take a different path in, and from then it's relatively smooth sailing. Dodge the potholes, aim to hit the rocks with the wheels instead of the underbelly, try not to wince every time a stick twangs into the side of the car. And there we are, parked 550m from the point.

The sky is looking threatening, and the road could yet turn to mud, so we don't dally. Boots on for KT, backpack full of non-essentials for Steve, a hiking pole each, we stride forth.

KT takes the lead, plotting a remarkably straight line down the gentle slope. The bushbashing is decidedly moderate: it's not quite striding across open heathland, but there are plenty of animal tracks through the knee high vegetation, and not too many trees to contend with. Even the bushfire regrowth - a hiker's worst nightmare at times - is sparse, and we make decent progress.

The metres count down in fifties and before long we have homed in on the point. It's a nice piece of bush, still rebounding from bushfires, but doing well. A mix of eucalypts, banksias, acacias and lots I don't recognise. A strange absence of birds though - we see one crimson rosella, hear a flutter of wings, and see one tiny bird and that's it. Compared to the abundant birdlife we've been seeing in the lakes -- pelicans, cormorants, herons, egrets, etc -- it feels like something's missing. Hopefully they'll find their way here too.

I take the lead on the out-bash, following our recorded trace. It's satisfying finding the dead branches I'd stomped on moments earlier, and revisiting the same animal paths, and we reunite with the Mighty Yaris with little trouble.

But the drive out is just as nerve wracking as the way in. A steep hill that we came down is the biggest concern, but KT guns the engine and we roar up with no trouble. A picture of focus, she negotiates the many obstacles and soon we are back in civilisation. Our second graticule that we've unlocked together (after Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan). Well done, team!