I WAS (T)HERE in 1998, late October.
The Lost World Wilderness.
The heart of the largest expanse of sub-tropical rainforest in Australia – right on our back doorstep. A prehistoric living relic of deep time ecology.
We walked with packs and food and tents and snacks from Antarctic Beech in the Border Ranges to the wreckage of the Stinson crash.
A plane crashed here 51 years earlier – 2 people survived and rescued by a mountain man listening to his feelings.
That night we camped at Rat-a-tat hut.
It was cold.
We woke to 10,000 fireflies.
Forest faeries.
The most majestic site.