Red Cedar Track

Tuesday morning 6.30am and the horse flies are congregating in anticipation of feasting on me outside the window netting.  The day is already hot.

Cooking bacon and eggs I spy out of my peripheral vision a large goanna who is slowly making his way over for breakfast.  I guess nobody can resist the smell of cooking bacon.  Great - I try to assess without my glasses if it is more than a metre long.  

Goanna scare the hell out of me.   I have seen people more territorial about their food than me wrestle with an adult goanna for their hot chicken sandwich.  Frankly I am not up to the challenge.  Certainly not with an audience of a million horse flies that will no doubt demand to be part of the negotiations.   

My Dad makes an appearance out of the van and volunteers himself as the campsite gate keeper until he sees the reptile walk behind our vehicle.  I am still nervous and eat with my breakfast plate teetering on my knees which are bent against my chest with my feet perched on the edge of the chair, in case the goanna makes an appearance from under the car.  

We pack up and make our way to Red Cedar Track.  It is spring and the park is obviously home to many red belly black snakes.  In the mornings they lay on the sunny parts of the road basking in the heat.  We drive slowly to miss them and then look in the mirrors to make sure they are still on the road when we drive past.  I don't want to collect a snake under our vehicle now, only to find it again later.  

We get to Red Cedar Track and it is just barely a trail.  Looks like snake country to both of us.  We put on our heavy shoes and go for a walk.  I am leading ~ wondering if we have taken the correct path and trying to stick to places where I can see what might lie on the ground through the longish grass.  I suspect the Ranger of this park uses his time playing x-box at this time of year and I have a feeling in my gut that we are sure to find a snake along this trail.   

There is an adult red belly in the middle of the track.  When I stamp at it, it does not move at all.  I start to get concerned.  Spring is not a good time of year to piss off a snake.  With more presence of mind, my Dad picks up a stick and throws it near the snake.  The snake slithers off slowly.  I don't want to be the leader anymore.

With my Dad in front, we get to the end of the trail and find two really large Red Cedar Trees.  I expected to see a few more, but apparently they really are rare now.   They are impressively large and must be very old.  I wonder how trees like this experience time.  Even our own relatively extended life spans must seem quite short periods to trees like this.  

The first time my Dad has seen a Red Cedar Tree