When Mark crawled out of the swag, I led him over to the gumtrees across from our campsite where we found plenty of dry wood.
He ran back over to his ute and as he emerged from behind the tray, I heard the rev of the chainsaw rip through the forrest of pines. With great trust in me, he put the chainsaw in my hand, and taught me how to cut the wood.
Using the apex of the blade and a see-saw action, I severed a medicore sized piece of wood. I excitedly revved it again, and he threw another piece in front of me to chop up.
We dragged it back to the charred pit from last night, and started the flames yet again.
He fired up his camp barbeque, and we popped on the camp kettle. Waiting for the whistle to signal when the water was boiled, I cracked six eggs into a pot lined with butter, and Mark threw in some chopped up chives. Scrambled eggs scrambled away in the pot beside the kettle, and the bacon popped on the pan, sending oil spitting onto the bark beneath the fold out table.
More bush nonsense will be up soon.