Them thar hills.

So we survived. Friday and Saturday were fantastic. Blue skies, hiking, toasted marshmellows, spuds in the fire for dinner, red wine, lots of laughs. It was all perfect until about 9pm on the Saturday. The cool change came in early and the rain started and stayed ... all night. Tent leaked, dogs looked miserable. We ended up 'sleeping' in the car or in my case, praying for dawn to arrive. We packed up early Sunday and had a scary drive down the moutain. That dusty road on the way up turned into a slick, red, muddy killer on the way down. Twice our car silently glided towards the edge of a pretty scary drop. We came to a stop about a metre from the edge. It was the final, bad bend in a series, so we were very pleased when we got down that mountain. But what's a camping trip without a few tales to tell? Such beautiful scenery and falling asleep listening to the river...it was all worth it.