I got up pre-dawn, a now normal experience. I couldn't face much, e.g.showers and coffee seemed way too complicated for that time of day so I basically just threw my clothes on and stumbled out towards the platypus viewing areas, camera clutched in hand.

I was right, nearly no other bugger was insane enough to get up this early apart from one saddo with a thick bird identification book and large binoculars, and a foreign couple who'd I'd seen last night and looked like the sort who got up everyday at 5am, probably for a healthy jog and some museli.

We immedately formed a platty spotting comradery. Two of us staked out one platform and two another and when the first platty was spotted a scout rushed over and fetched the others. In the end we had two plattys working the upper end of the river feet below our feet and completely undeterred by our presence. It was great, not least because I finally got a photo that didn't look like a hurried snapshot of the Loch Ness Monster. We had a quality hour of platty activity before the lightweights started to arrive, and I had the pleasure of directing the italian guy with the big camera to the best spot for the day with a supercilious wink. Serves him right for turning up for the show an hour late.

I packed up in time for swift breakfast at the Retreat - the bridge was getting too crowded anyway. I'd ordered a packed lunch too, and took this away with me as a scooted off to Finch Hatton Gorge for the next planned activity in my packed day.

There is one road/highway that leads to (and stops at) Eungella/Broken River. A semi sealed road turns off from this road at the bottom of the mountain and leads to Finch Hatton - nominally a township (because there are 'School bus' signs down the track) but the deeper you get into the place (and nearer to the Finch Hatton Gorge National park) the more the road degrades until you really start understanding why everyone in rural Oz has a 4x4 or a beat up truck.

To get to the 'flying fox rainforest experience' in Finch Hatton I had to negociate 10km of part sealed road (dead easy, its like a dual carriageway only its just the strip down the middle thats sealed and the rest is dirt so you drive like its a single track road and if you meet an oncoming vehicle you have to pass one another with half your car on the dirt - Max speed 80kph 2WD), 10km of unsealed road (like driving on a dirt road max speed 50kph at risk to your windscreen and paintwork, 4WD useful), 5 creek crossings (like fords only with the potential of crocs and muddy potholed entry/exits - max speed 15kph 4WD sensible), two cart tracks plus gates (max speed 30kph 4WD) and one insane incline, only short but practically vertical, dirt track, and potholed and dusty (max speed 5kph 4WD essential). I nearly thought the car wasn't going to make it and I was going to upturn into a ditch but it pulled through and it was bloody good fun.

From the dirt-cattle track turn off, I'd been following faded 'Flying Fox' signs and as things progressed I became increasingly doubtful of the professionalism of the organisation. This doubt reached its pinnacle after I had struggled up the last hill only to find an overgrown carpark with a burnt out truck in it. There was one tiny little footpath leading off, and in a last effort to find these people I parked up the overheated car and walked down the path.

Finally I found the 'main office' (basically a crumbling shed full of climbing harnesses and things) and an additional search revealed a bunch of people just up the hill returning from their trip, plus supervisor.

Time for explanation. I had come to Eungella for two reasons: the platypuses and this place. A flying fox is a wire cable you whizz along in a harness - you know, one of those things rainforest researchers use to study the forest canopy. You sit in a sling, and you slide along a wire controlling your speed with a brake, or by pulling yourself along the wire with your hands on level bits. These guys offered the paying public to have a go on one of these rigs through a genuine bit of rainforest, and I must admit when I saw it in the Lonely Planet guide, I knew I had to do it no matter what.

It turns out that the rig was owned by an English couple who had bought a stretch of rainforest for $26k about 4 years ago and set up the cable there themselves. He was from Hull and clearly the climber, and she was from Yorkshire and the meet-and-greet person (with a toddler on a string). There was also a young aussie designed in the surfer dude mould and here was clearly the odd job guy.

As I said, they didn't have an office, just a ricketty shed at the bottom of the mountain (though they were in the process of building themselves an office just next door which looked like the half finished turret of a gothic castle). You got suited up in the shed and signed the 'I know it's dangerous' form. Then you waddled over in your climbing sling/nappy/harness to a 6ft high cable training area where you demonstrated to the Hull guy that that you weren't complelete clueless and a responsible individual really. Then all the staff walked you up the mountain (incl. toddler on a lead) and set you loose on the real thing.

Hull guy zipped down first on bad ass gear (a wooden swing carabina-ed to the cable and a piece of rubber he held against the wire with his hand as a brake), the our group were hitched up one by one by surfer dude and let down the wire to be greeted by Hull guy. There were actually two wires and Hull guy did the uncoupling and changeover at the intermediate platform while surfer dude did the inital hookup and Yorkshire lass kept all the waiting hopefuls amused with 'How was your holiday' chitchat. Only one person was allowed on the wire at a time, so as soon as they got to the intermediary platform the Hull guy walkie talkied to the surfer 'Clear for takeoff!' bless him. I hung around to go last cos I wanted to linger, and when everyone was set off but me the Yorkshire lass said to surfer dude 'I'll go back to the bottom now - do you think you're ok with the coupling procedure?' and that generated a whimper of horror in me and they had to admit that the lad had only been doing this 2 days. In the end the Yorkshire lass supervised the coupling before she left, just to reassure me, and then I felt bad about not trusting surfer dude so I tried to chat to make up, as I sat there dangling waiting for the takeoff clearance. I think he forgave me.

The wire was dead good. I've now been suspended above rainforest by cablecar, raised walkway, observation tower and zip wire and I saw different bits of the forest with each tour. With this one, it was a huge colony of fruit bats that had chosen to roost right around the wire so you could dangle at eye level with them, practically reach out and poke them with your finger. One had even recently given birth so you could see the baby fruitbat clutching on to mommy bat. When I got to the intemediate platform I asked Hull guy about it (trying not to look down as he uncoupled me and hooked me to the other wire) and he said that when they had first got the land there were no fruitbats but one year they decided to roost over the platform and actually it was a pain because it all got covered in bat shit which got really slippery when it rained. This year, thankfully, they had moved away a bit, but I still think it must have been a stroke of luck, those bats arriving.

When it was over I thanked the team heartily for a damn good experience. Yorkshire lass had been looking coverteously at my 4x4 and asked me how it was (I recommended it, but not the automatic version), and asked them to check later to see if it was upturned in the ditch beside that horrible slope and call the authorities as necessary. As it was, coming down the thing was fine.

Next up:- I attempted to take my lunch at Eungella dam by failed to find it, and ended up eating at a lookout point in Eungella 'village' (basically just a couple of cafes that were permanently shut), filling up at an unfriendly road house in Marian, and 4x4ing it back to Finch Hatton gorge to do the walk there. I also past the place I *nearly* stayed at, the tree house bush camp, and confirmed to myself that is was just a loud backpacker place and yes, the place WAS full of mozzies.

The gorge walk was pleasant and unchallenging, ascending theough the forest and ending in a little waterfall and swimming hole. The landscape, nerderly enough, was the spit of the LotR scene where Boromir tried to take the ring from Frod, with high trees and rocks that looked like ancie fall obilisqueses.

I met surfer dude from the flying fox rig on the way back to the car. It was nearly sunset by then and he asked me was the walk okay and how long. I guess not only had he just started his new job yesterday, but he'd also just moved here and was still exploring. So for him to (an Airlie beach kid) Eungella was one big adventure.

Back at camp I couldn't be bothered fighting with the platy twitchers and kinda knew nothing would better the morning sightings so I just enjoyed a lingering dinner instead with the possums (two adults and two babies came to the table this time), checked myself out ready for the early morning departure, and went to bed. What a day!