On the way out of the forest, we made a mess of the ute by splashing through every puddle we drove past.

Instead of following the main road out, we took a different turn to the way we came in. The dirt was orange on this track, and if I’d been blindfolded the whole time and had to guess where I was, I’d be guessing Broome.

 Driving past a line of Christmas tree plantations to our left, to the right was a field of chopped down dead trees. There were a few standalone trees left, and right as I was thinking it, Mark stopped the car, turned to me and said,

“Wanna cut down that tree?”

With a nod of approval from me, we hopped out and grabbed the chainsaw.

He ripped into it for a good five minutes before we stood back and watched it slowly drop to the ground.

You’re probably thinking,¬†what idiots.

And well yeah, we sort of are.

Next week we’re heading off to somewhere new. Stay tuned for more camping adventures.

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