7/05/16 Once in a while you come across a camp that ticks all the boxes. Billabourie was one of those camps. It’s a working farm that also operates a great little camp ground in a stand of old timber beside the Lachlan River, north east of Hillston. A few powered spots were available but we chose to stay on solar and located a bit further away for privacy. We set up a few metres from the river’s edge and had a magic view of the water and the surrounding park-like grounds shaded by huge old River Red Gums. Best not to camp under these majestic trees as they self-prune their very large branches which would make a mess of anything underneath. The two awnings and the groundsheet went out, and we made ourselves comfortable in this very picturesque spot. What a magic place.
We had our first camp fire this trip and couldn’t have found a better location for it. A breakfast of bacon and eggs on the fire kicked off the next day and we sat around the remains of the fire enjoying the scenery and silence, the morning birds our only companions. Two other vans were there when we pulled in but they left early the following morning. From then on, we had the place to ourselves. Di whipped up a damper/scone combo in the camp oven that went down very nicely with a dollop of butter and Tony A’s yummy homemade rosella jam. And I did a camp oven lamb roast that had to be my best yet, hands down.
The nights were cold, the mornings crisp and the days beautiful. The Kruiser is well suited for cold weather living, the diesel heater keeping us snug-as-a-bug inside first thing in the morning until the sun came up enough to bring some warmth.
I did a bit of lure fishing, which is my term for extricating lures snagged on tree roots, overhead branches and hidden underwater obstacles. You could almost hear the fish scoffing between my colourful outbursts. They certainly need not tremble at the sound of my name. No worries; they’ll be that much bigger next time I go snagging lures.
Unfortunately, the final day turned grey and overnight rain softened the bush track for our departure. Nevertheless, the Landy was up for some mud puddling, and when we eventually reached the sealed road the front of the van was wearing a red mud face mask.
There’s a fine line between fishing and standing on the shore like an idiot! – Anon