A WEATHER change was looming and ominous clouds were rolling in. The wind had shifted markedly to the northwest at dusk the day before. We had camped at Old Andado Station, a time capsule of a bygone era, standing testament to the mettle of Molly and Mac Clark. The massive flock of galahs were unsettled, their barren trees offering no protection. They knew the change was coming; the ants too, were moving to higher ground.
“It will rain at 08:00,” said Marc, our fearless leader. “We need to get moving before it buckets down.” We’d not long despatched our morning walkers for their daily sojourn along the track. The sky confirmed the Metvuw weather forecast (www.metvuw.com) he’d downloaded just days before. Today would be their test …
The scattered drops began as we were ‘locked and loaded’, with radios checked, tyres deflated and raincoats at the ready. Our walkers hadn’t made it far, the clay-capped
