I COULD barely make out Steve’s vehicle through the sheets of bulldust thrown up by the passing vehicles high-tailing it down the Cape York Eastern Development Road. Despite his headlights being on high beam, they appeared as little more than a smudge in my shaking rearview mirror as I rumbled over the endless corrugations. My friend was indeed getting his Cape York ‘baptism in dust’ as we steadily rolled towards our destination hundreds of kilometres away.
THE nine-hour drive from my home base in Cairns towards Kendall River Hunting and Fishing Safaris puts you on notice that you are heading towards one of the remotest hunting locations in the country.
This trip had been a long time coming.
For years Kendall River Safaris had been the subject of story and song as I relayed some of my experiences to my old mate. Sure, over time some of the pigs may have grown in size and ferocity and the odd barra may have gained an extra kilo to match the added centimetre or two, but hey, I’m getting old and I cannot remember every single detail.
Steve had been living in Papua
