Before making our way out to what could only be described as a bucket list item for one of us – the Bloomfield Track – a rather unexpected event occurred.
A lone horse and rider ambled right through our campsite. It was a curiously pastoral scene, quite at odds with the rugged adventure we were about to undertake. We paused, brewed another cup of tea, and pondered the juxtaposition.
The road leading to the Bloomfield Track was, shall we say, scenic. We were soon reminded of just how scenic' when we encountered a few local residents enjoying the Queensland sunshine. Several crocodiles were basking on the banks and swimming in the seemingly crystal-clear water.
This served as a rather abrupt reminder about being ‘croc-wise,’ a concept we must confess we had, perhaps foolishly, relegated to the back of our minds. In fact, only the day before we arrived at this particular campsite, we had taken a leisurely stroll to a nearby stream. We had even dangled our feet in the water, enjoying the supposed tranquillity. That evening, we overheard other campers recounting stories of a saltwater crocodile sighted near the very same location. Let's just say that was not the most relaxing way to fall asleep that evening.
The realisation that we had unknowingly shared a potential swimming spot with a saltwater crocodile gave us pause for thought. It certainly altered our perception of ‘idyllic stream’ somewhat. We resolved to be far more vigilant and significantly less inclined to dangle our feet in any body of water, no matter how inviting it may appear.
A healthy respect for apex predators, we believe, is always in order, even – or perhaps especially – when one is attempting to relax. The Bloomfield Track adventure awaited, and we intended to experience it with all our limbs intact.
