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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