Do you think the fire can be dangerous for us?

Day: 234 Stage three / total expedition days 625

Sunrise:
05:24

Sunset:
18:55

As the crow flies:
20,6

Daily kilometers:
33

Total kilometers:
6587 km

Temperature - Day (maximum):
37° degrees, sun approx. 57°

Temperature - Night:
22° degrees

Latitude:
23°18'48.6"

Longitude:
148°44'20.2"

Bushfire Camp – 05.01.2003

Just 100 meters after setting off, a fence blocks our way, as it often does. “The gate is locked!” Tanja calls out. Disappointed, we lead the caravan along the fence to possibly find a way through. Unfortunately, our search is in vain. It takes me over 20 minutes to loosen the fence wires and guide the camels to the other side. Then I restore the wire mesh to its original state and we can continue walking. According to a rough calculation, we’ve had to overcome around 450 fences so far, of which I’ve had to move around 50 and put them up again. These obstacles alone can make your hair grow gray in the long run, but we have come to terms with them over the years and accept them as small challenges and hurdles on this expedition. Now that the farms are getting smaller and smaller and we’re suddenly far away from roads and civilization again, there are more and more of these things getting in our way. With a lot of patience, we open one gate after the other and, if necessary, we cross the obstacle.

Suddenly the track forks. One leads slightly to the left and then runs parallel to the other. I immediately stop Sebastian to look at the map. “There’s only one way here,” I say, thinking. “To be on the safe side, I should measure a few coordinate points from the map,” I add and let Sebastian and Hardie take a shower, because everything I need is loaded in Hardie’s saddlebag.

“We’ll take the left-hand path,” I decide and our march continues. It doesn’t take long for this track to fade into nothingness. The ground is suddenly damp. We zigzag carefully past pools of water. Felled trees lie criss-crossed on the ground. Every few hundred meters we are forced to cross a thin vein of water. They flow into the nearby Red Rock Creek, in whose bed water shimmers in some places. It undoubtedly rained heavily here not too long ago. Lush grass and green trees and bushes grow like in a tropical jungle. Sebastian literally rolls his eyes and constantly wants to lower his head to eat the delicious grass. “Do you think we’re in the right place?” Tanja asks. “This is definitely not a stick route. Let’s go on for a few more minutes. If we don’t come across a track, we’ll have to turn back.”

We walk another two kilometers until we decide to turn back. “Maybe we should have followed the other path after all?” I say, pulling Sebastian into an arc and walking back in the same direction we came from. As the steep bank of Red Rock Creek does not allow us to cross, we are forced to walk on and on until we are back where we were an hour ago. Now we turn south and only 50 meters later we meet the old stock route. “I can’t believe how close we’ve been to her all this time,” I say, relieved, because although it’s only about 250 kilometers to Rockhampton and we’re in farmland here, it’s still easy to get lost.

SUDDENLY THE SMOKE BURNS MY EYES AND WINDPIPE

We now follow the rarely used path eastwards without difficulty and set up camp after just under seven hours. The camels find green grass in the clearing in front of us. As soon as we have settled into the camp chairs, exhausted, we hear the sound of engines behind us. Tanja turns around. “What’s that? It won’t be a bushfire, will it?” she asks nervously, pointing to large clouds rising into the sky. “I don’t think so. Maybe there are a couple of young jackeroos breaking through the terrain in their jeeps. Clouds of smoke should be much darker,” I reply reassuringly, turn around again and continue my navigation work. “I don’t know Denis, but what if it is a bushfire?” “Then we’re not at risk here on this site either. Look, we’re right next to a clearing. The green grass is certainly not on fire. In an emergency, we’d have to carry our equipment 50 meters up the clearing, but I don’t think that’s necessary,” I say and enter the coordinates of the two hundred and fifty-sixth camp in my logbook.

“We’ve covered 185 kilometers in the last six days,” I say as the smell of smoke fills my nose. I immediately turn back in my chair to take a look at the ever-growing clouds. “You’re right. There’s no doubt it’s a bushfire. It looks like someone has set it. They’re probably burning down the land there.” “And you really don’t think we’re at risk here?” “No, I don’t think so,” I reply. Again I take care of my entries, but I can’t help noticing that Tanja is getting more and more nervous. “It’s already raining ash!” her statement startles me out of my thoughts. “We’re still not in any danger, but if it makes you feel better I’ll go and have a closer look.” “That would be very nice,” she replies uneasily. I’m calculating 33 kilometers when Tanja interrupts me again. “Do you hear that? It’s rushing like the surf of the sea.” “Okay, I’ll check right away,” I say, grab the walkie talkie, put on my hat and take the cameras with me. “Channel 14. Have you also set channel 14?” I ask. “Yes.” We check the radio contact with a short speech test, then I leave our seat in the direction of the smoke. “Take care of yourself!” Tanja calls after me. “Don’t worry. Of course I’ll take care!” I hear myself reply.

Meanwhile, gigantic clouds of smoke rise into the sky in front of me. The sun is hidden and casts its pale, subdued light on a forest shrouded in mist. I’m walking into the hollow through which Cooroorah Creek meanders when I think I recognize a yellow-red flicker. Could it be that the fire is already raging down there? That would be very close, I think to myself. I am relieved to see that there is a track between the bushfire and our camp. If the sea of flames really does come up here, I can’t imagine that it will skip this track.

Suddenly a hot wind blows towards me. It gets stronger and stronger until I really have to put my body into it so that I don’t just fall over backwards. Thick clouds of smoke hover over the creek, but when the wind blows in, it tears them apart, mixes them up like a blender and takes them with it. The noise gets louder and louder. It’s downright frightening. About 200 meters in front of me, flames suddenly burst into the air. They race up the trunk of a tree and devour all the leaves and thin branches with a loud crackling sound. Fascinated, I stand rooted to the spot. Never in my life have I been so close to a bushfire. We were threatened by bushfires on stage one and also on stage two, but now I get to experience the devastating power of a full-blown fire up close. (Diary overview from 12.10.00, day 154 stage one) Just behind the now charred tree, some bushes are burning. I cautiously approach a little closer and see the extent of the fire. As far as I can see, acrid, almost white smoke rises from the burning bush landscape. As if drawn by a magnet, I approach a few more meters. I feel safe here because the creek bed is like a barrier between me and the flames. To get even better shots, I leave the path and step into the bushes to my right. Cacti and a few flowers rise up like an irony against the flames of destruction. I watch the spectacle in awe, as if bewitched, and listen to the dangerous rumbling of the fire. A hot wind is constantly blowing in my face. It rains incessant ash and clouds of smoke shoot into the infinity of the sky. Every now and then, one of the clouds settles over me and takes my breath away for a few moments. But the strong, storm-like wind shreds them to pieces again a fraction of a second later. In order to get even better shots, I tried to move even further away from the path. “Stay sensible Denis. Stay close to the track. You don’t know what a bushfire does,” I whisper to myself. Suddenly I remember the radio again. My God, how long have I been here? Tanja will be worried. I immediately take the walkie talkie from my belt. “Tanja?” “Yes?” “We don’t need to be afraid. There’s a track and a creek bed between our camp and the fire. The way it looks at the moment, I don’t think the flames will jump the creek…” Since I don’t get an answer, I assume that the batteries in her walkie-talkie are dead. As we have used the two-way radios very little in the last few weeks, this is easily possible. But she probably understood my message and the walkie talkie just doesn’t have enough power to transmit.

I’m taking a few shots of a pretty white flower surrounded by billows of smoke when the wind suddenly changes direction. Without having much time to think about it, I immediately find myself in thick smoke. My eyes immediately start to burn. My vision is restricted and my bronchial tubes are tormented by a terrible coughing fit. Let’s get out of here, it shoots through my brain. The track is difficult to recognize. I hurry in his direction. Seconds later, my vision is completely taken away. Coughing, I stumble on. A large flame, directly on the other bank of the three-meter narrow creek, shoots into a bush. The sound is deafening. I can vaguely recognize the track. To breathe better, I pull my scarf off my neck and hold it in front of my face. But it doesn’t bring any relief. I try to run but the lack of oxygen paralyzes my feet. So it happens that people burn in the bush. It’s not the flames directly, but the smoke. First you collapse from smoke inhalation and then the flames consume you, it goes through the foggy convolutions of my brain. When I reach the path, I find it easier to escape. However, it also lies in a thick cloud of smoke. As quickly as my burning lungs allow, I rush up the valley. Shaken by one coughing fit after another, my fleeing footprints settle in the sand until the air finally gets a little better.

Once on the level, I turn around again. The entire horizon is covered in clouds of smoke. As if giant genies were wrestling with each other for supremacy, the columns of smoke twist into each other. The stormy wind keeps blowing in between and drives the fire south at breakneck speed. Spellbound and completely out of breath, I watch the devastating power. Then I go back to the camp to report to Tanja.

“The wind is now driving the fire south. We’re not in any danger here, but I now know how quickly and why you can die in a bushfire like this,” I say, recounting my experience.

When the sun has long since set, I set off again to watch the fire. Not far from our camp, I stand on the track and look down into the valley. As if every inhabitant of a large city had a fire in their garden, countless foci of flames light up the plain. It is an impressive picture. The moon floats as a bright crescent in the star-studded night. The squalls have subsided. Only a light, warm breeze whispers in the branches of a tree next to me. My thoughts take on a life of their own and I wonder what would have happened if we hadn’t accidentally taken a one-hour detour this morning? If I had chosen the right track? We certainly wouldn’t have set up camp in the clearing, but somewhere down there, where the flames are now destroying everything. Due to the squalls, the sea of flames had reached a considerable speed. Would we have managed to escape them in time? Would we have survived the heavy smoke? My God, once again this situation proves how close life and death are. How close joy and sadness are. Even if we already feel like we’re almost on the east coast, we have to remain vigilant. We must not let up in the last few weeks under any circumstances. I would never have expected to come so close to a bushfire that is capable of scaring us. But despite everything that still lies ahead of us and all the experiences we have already mastered, it is important to enjoy this moment. It is important to live in the moment. Only when this works is a life balanced and happy. There is no doubt that every life is a balancing act between the future and the past.

If we manage in our lives to make the moment the center of the future and the past, the center of a scale with the weight of the future on one side and the weight of the past on the other, we live in peace and harmony with ourselves and the rest of the world. I stand there for a long time and let my thoughts sink deep into me. My eyes glide over the sea of fire, which I will never see in this form again in my life. It is a unique moment, a moment that will be etched in my memory and will be a thing of the past tomorrow. A few hours ago, however, this fire didn’t exist and had nothing to do with my life. It is precisely this example, this fire, that explains to me how important it is to enjoy the “now”. Not to disregard it, but to live it and soak it up. We always live in the now, always in the moment, whether we want to admit it or not. Only our thoughts can take us away from this, can throw us out of the balance of life, which means that we miss the moment and thus miss out on our current life…