We finally rolled out of Port Macquarie on the 2nd of August — four days later than planned. Nice town, but we never want to walk that Mid Coast road again. Ever.
The plan was simple enough: Head west → St George → Birdsville → Lake Eyre. Let’s go.
The night before leaving, a fellow camper told us to check out Middle Mountain Lookout. Wish we’d known earlier — the views were insane. Coastline north and south, lakes everywhere, and skies that would’ve been magic three days before. Still worth it.



Gloucester: Base Camp & Barrington Calling
Shelly had mentioned Barrington Tops more than a few times, and slow travelling means you can finally say: “Stuff it — let’s go.”
Side stops on the way:

We rolled into Gloucester and set up at the showgrounds — absolute 5/5 spot. Terraced camping platforms looking over a valley that made you stop and stare. Facilities were fine, but the location was the winner.



We wandered into town and found a gallery mid‑setup. They let us in anyway, and we met a sculptor who was one of those rare humans you could talk to for hours. Genuine, talented, and generous with his time. A great surprise.
A drive out to Copeland ATF gave us a taste of what Barrington Tops might offer — lush, green, and a hint of adventure.




Next day, the info centre gave us the goss: gold mine tours closed, but Gloucester Tops was open. So we did a warm‑up loop around Buccan Buccan Range — creek crossings, mountain water, curvy roads, and our first Antarctic Beech forest. Walking through remnants of Gondwana felt pretty special.
Back to camp for another sunset drone session and a moonrise — I’m really enjoying those golden‑hour flights.



The Town was nice with an excellent creek walk – think we will see many of this in the future.

Dungog & The Big Call
Next day: Dungog. Small historic town, easy drive, a few skinny dirt rat‑runs on the way back just to keep things interesting.
Then came the decision: Let’s actually camp in Barrington Tops.

Polblue Campground was stunning. The drive up had multiple lookouts, two lyrebirds, and a swamp that looked like a movie set — crystal‑clear water weaving through grasslands.





Peaceful walking tracks and a night sky full of satellites and one shooting star.




Woke to frost. Beautiful, but brisk. We re-walked the swamp walk and understood the ‘Slippery when frosty’ signs – bloody beautiful.




Westward: Scone → Coolah → Gilgandra
We kept heading west through Scone and on to Coolah via Meerah — saw our first water rat.
Next morning: Gilgandra Showgrounds. Old mate caretaker greeted us with: “Keep moving — big party tonight. Set up down the back.” Good call. The 20th + 50th birthday bash went until 2am but wasn’t too wild.

Rain arrived, so we did domestic duties — food shop, defrosted the Ulti fridge (10 weeks of ice buildup), and washed the car and camper in the drizzle. Felt good to reset.
The Night the Ulti Tried to Fly
We were expecting 20km winds. We got… something else.
By 10pm the gusts were hammering us. One hit so hard it popped a support pole out of the annex. Out of bed, headlamp on, and suddenly I’m in a midnight episode of Survivor: Ultimate Edition. I threw out seven extra guy ropes, tying the awning to anything that looked vaguely solid.
We lay in bed listening to the canvas flex like it wanted to escape. Later we learned gusts were hitting 75km/h. No wonder it felt like the Ulti was trying to take up flying.
Thankfully, I’d pointed the nose into the wind — deliberate move — which saved us from a full disaster.
Next day I rang Darren for storm‑prep advice. Turns out my midnight MacGyvering was pretty close, but he gave me extra tips to make the setup more bulletproof. Looking forward to testing them… maybe.
The Near Miss
Pack‑up was another challenge. Gusts still over 35km/h. We had a plan — well, I had a plan — but I didn’t fully brief Shelly. Mistake.
She was holding the middle pole on the windward side when a monster gust hit. A side pole lifted, she instinctively grabbed it, and it bent, unhooked, and launched straight at her. Missed her face by centimetres. Whacked her pinky hard — we thought it might be broken.
Could’ve been so much worse. Lesson learned: storm pack‑ups need proper communication.
We eventually folded the roof between gusts, using spare rope to hold it down. Many lessons learned that day.
Nyngan: Regroup & Reality Check
Places and shops that you visit – love this travelling – so many things to see.

We rolled into Nyngan and paid extra for an ensuite — wind protection and a bit of luxury. Repacked everything, slept well, and Shell even did a run around the Weir.
Start of the serious Silo Art -.


Then we rang our mate Outdoor Gaz for advice on the route. His first question: “Have you checked the road conditions?” Us: “Yeah yeah, of course.” (We had not.)
Gaz called back with the truth bomb:
- Birdsville Track: closed until end of August
- Strzelecki Track: flooded
- Lake Eyre via Cameron Corner: forget it
Our cunning plan… wasn’t so cunning.
So… what now?
You’ll have to wait for Cunning Plan #2 in the next post
PS have I mentioned that Shelly is doing a daily Zen Tangle – will post examples.

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