Day 1 - The Arrival

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A mother embarks on an adventurous four day mini camping trip and explores a plethora of National Parks in the South West of Western Australia with her intrepid two teenage sons in a bid to keep them off the Xbox and to keep active. A humourous approach to her mishaps into the mundane will delight anyone who dares to read.

The car is packed with three two person tents. One each but anyone who has used a two person tent really knows there is only really room for one person. It is an ominous day with the rain well and truly settled in. Highly unusual in this age of global warming. Yet I remained naively optimistic and believed it was just a passing shower as it always is with our meagre 350mm of rainfall pa where we live. Anyway, since when has the break of the season ever occurred in the first week of April since 1985? Besides, I was just in the Daintree RAINforest in the WETseason during Cyclone Nathan in Queensland two weeks ago and it didn't rain much at all. Four hours further south of the Equator later and the rain is a lot worse than the damn rainforest.

At least by the time we arrive at 3.00pm it's let up a little with just a steady drizzle so we are able to set up our pop up tents and blow up mattresses within about 10 minutes before the next deluge. The tents are too small to seek sit up shelter in, so we sit in the car where we stay for the next three hours until we get really hungry. I get wet going to open the hatch at the rear of the car and find my raincoat, three tins of soup, three plates, three spoons and a saucepan. We all run to the camp kitchen where I heat up our soup. No one else is there and there is little point getting any playing cards out and getting wet, so there is little option but to call it a day. After I help the kids into their tents by holding up a golf umbrella so they don't get wet, it is my turn to get into mine. The sheer logistics of getting into a 'one' person tent in the torrential rain is learnt the hard way. There is no cover over the door so the rain goes straight inside the tent when the flap is open. With no way of tying back the door it is just dangling and causing a waterfall. Once I had made the decision to enter my tent via the waterfall, I am rewarded with the dangling tent door sticking to my back causing the waterfall to drain down my back and into my butt crack. With one foul swoop that my gymnastics teacher I had when I six, would've been proud of, I leap through the narrow and low opening and find refuge on my air mattress. Gently, I remove my muddy hiking boots and then do a contortionists act to remove my wet clothes and 'slip' into something more comfortable.

I lay there and listen to the relentless rain, which is getting heavier and heavier, and screaching possums in the neighbouring forest. Needless to say, I do not get much sleep. This is the first time I have ever used this tent and have no idea how it will hold up under the circumstances. It is a similar story for the boys' tents. They had only been used in fine weather. I told them that if they got wet, they weren't to hesitate to go and sleep in the car where I kept an emergency wool blanket. It still didn't keep me from spending all night worrying about them though. I manage to keep dry but only due to my efforts of sleeping with one eye open. It is like sleeping on one of those blow up mattresses you use in a swimming pool and someone gives you a sleeping bag and a blanket and tells you that you will be in dire trouble if you allow it to touch the water during the next 10 sleeping hours. Despite going to the toilet before bedtime, it did not prevent a repeat performance at 3am. I lay there waiting for signs that the rain was easing off just a little and made the dash. This time I used the umbrella to protect my entry into the tent but I didn't really have enough hands considering the door zipper was very stubborn.

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