Quoll Quest: Wheels, Wombats & Wonder

We rolled eastward, memories of our previous journey to the coast flooded back. Months ago, we had found refuge at Evercreech, a tranquil camp that now served as a landmark guiding us to our new destination. This time, our hearts were set on a different campsite, one that promised a rare encounter with the elusive Eastern Quoll. The tip had come from Gary, a fellow wanderer we'd met at Lake Barrington, his eyes twinkling with excitement as he described the nocturnal marsupials that frequented the area.

The familiar forestry trails stretched before us, a tapestry of green and brown hues. On a whim, we decided to heed the siren call of our GPS, luring us down a 'shortcut'. The path quickly transformed into a treacherous descent, the bus groaning as it navigated the rough terrain. Anth's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, his eyes constantly darting between the path ahead and the rear mirrors, calculating our escape route should the need arise.

As if to welcome us to this wild domain, a wombat waddled across our path. It paused in the undergrowth, its small, curious eyes watching our lumbering progress with what seemed like amusement. The encounter felt like a blessing from the forest itself, urging us onward.

Just as Evercreech's welcoming embrace seemed within reach, fate threw us a curveball. An old dirt mound, once a formidable roadblock now weathered by time and determined travelers, stood defiantly in our path. For smaller vehicles, it might have been a mere inconvenience, but for our bus, it was an immovable mountain. With heavy hearts but undampened spirits, we executed a careful three-point turn. This detour, rather than a setback, felt like another vibrant thread weaving itself into the rich tapestry of our journey.

As we rejoined the main forestry trail, the sky began to weep. Raindrops pelted the windshield, transforming the dirt road into a treacherous, slippery ribbon. Fallen trees reached out like gnarled fingers, threatening to ensnare us. Our progress slowed to a cautious crawl, the fading light adding an extra layer of challenge to our adventure.

It was on a particularly sharp curve that disaster nearly struck. The bus's rear wheels caught the road's edge, and for a heart-stopping moment, one corner of the bus was airborne. The violent jolt sent our belongings cascading from the shelves, a cacophony of crashes filling the air. As we pulled over to assess the damage, relief washed over us. Apart from two sacrificial plastic containers, our possessions and our beloved bus had emerged unscathed. The incident served as a stark reminder of the unpredictable nature of our chosen path.

Night had fully descended by the time we reached Griffith Camping area, the darkness as thick as velvet. As we manoeuvred into a level spot, the need for proper driving lights was added to our ever-growing wish-list, a silent promise for future adventures.

With dinner simmering, its aromatic tendrils curling up through the roof fan, we ventured into the inky blackness. Our torch cut a swath through the night, revealing a world teeming with life. Pademelons, like small, furry ghosts, darted through the underbrush. And then, a flash of movement caught our eye – a quoll, its spotted coat a masterpiece of natural camouflage, foraged in the distance.

We stalked the creature with bated breath, drawing ever closer. At times, mere meters separated us from this wild spirit of Tasmania. Eventually, sensing our presence, it melted into the bush, leaving us with racing hearts and a sense of wonder. We returned to the bus, where our instant pot had worked its magic, filling the small space with the promise of a warm, comforting meal.

Dawn broke, casting the campsite in a new light. While the natural beauty was undeniable, the scattered rubbish in fire pits served as a somber reminder of human impact. With a mix of contentment from our nocturnal adventure and a yearning for unspoiled wilderness, we set our sights on the next campsite, eager for what new marvels awaited us in this wild, unpredictable land.Leer más