I wake around 5am to blustery winds and the strong threat of rain. I can't move without waking Hayden. there goes my walk. Once Hayden is awake, the world is obliged to move with him. "I want my brekky NOW!" Not that that means I am obliged to get it for him, but it does mean Nevil and I have to move immediately into riot control / behaviour management mode, unless of course we want anarchy to reign. With no impulse control and no ability to see the world beyond his own personal needs and desires, Hayden must be constantly and repeatedly reminded to slow down, go through the routine IN THE CORRECT ORDER, speak quietly and politely, etc., etc.
At the other end of the scale I have Scott, who is so burnt out that he cannot move himself. "Scott, it's going to rain. We need to get up and get moving...Scott...Scott, are you awake? ... Scott, are you alive?.
"Mmm."
This will be the pattern for the next four weeks. Hayden spinning like an out-of-control spinning top, Scott like a snail going backwards. Added to the mix will be Mark, whose own set ways of doing things and seeing the world will be challenged at every turn. He will find this hard to cope with. He's not used to having to concede to not being able to win an argument against a twelve year old who has no power for reasoning, beyond "I want it because I do!"

We have to move fast this morning. The weather is closing in and we don't want to be packing up a wet tent.
We say goodbye to Langi Ghiran, some of us initially on foot and others following behind in the cars. (Hayden has thrown a tizzy fit so he, Nevil and Keygan start to walk as a means of distracting and calming him down).
We head west towards the Grampians, stopping off briefly at Pinkey Point near Ararat, where the first local gold was discovered in 1854.
Mark takes the practical touristy shots. I get the arty ones - old bits of tin, interesting angles of the what remains of the shafts, wet grass, wet posts. Nothing brilliant as I recall, especially from me.
On to, and through, Ararat. The drive up into the Grampians is interesting and reminds me very much of home. The rain by now has become quite steady. My plans to do a bit of a walk here are completely dashed. With only half of us keen to walk, the others would have to wait around in the wet. Those of us who went would be soaked and we'd have to then find a place in the car for wet clothes. It's simply not worth it. Besides, I've already decided that there are so many places here I'd like to explore further, just with Nevil, that it's better to get through to drier country and leave this region for another visit. I'm convinced of it when a simple drive through reveals large, smooth, spectacular sheets of solid rock, draped across the mountain to our left, grey and glistening in the wet. I wish I could stop for a good photo but it's raining hard right now and Hayden has no patience for me taking photos. (Since I dragged him away from the dozens and dozens of kangaroos in the park at Halls Gap he has no patience for anyone or anything).
There are countless beautiful sights to see on the drive across the mountain, but with tempers flaring, I can only look and wish. Next time. As we head out the other side I recall seeing water (Lake wartook) to the right. We do stop at a lookout towards the west but it's freezing by now and Scott is reluctant to move. Keep moving. Keep moving...
We dodge howling wind and driving rain in Horsham to grab some lunch by the river, then keep heading north as quickly as we can towards the Mallee country. Away from the Grampians the land has flattened out and the roads become long and straight. It's raining and freezing cold but we're struck by the overall dryness of the place. There is no stock, no wildlife, not a blade of grass. Drought has definitely hit hard here and while this is the best fall they've seen in these parts for a long time, it's clear that much more is still needed. Farmers are out in force on their tractors, sowing and drilling new crops.
The little towns through here have some beautiful old buildings. What about that amazingly once-opulent old hotel at Jeparit?

PHOTO PLEASE.

I know that Lake Hindmarsh is not far west of us, but I cannot see any water. I'll later learn that this lake, like the one we're heading for, is dry and has been for many years.
We're heading for Wyperfeld National Park and plan to camp on the shores of Lake Albacutya. We've already learned that, even in our 4WDs, we are asking for trouble if we get off the bitumen or gravel roads onto the Mallee sand in this wet weather. We're about to learn that Lake Albacutya is as dry as dry as dry. It has great facilities, built by the local volunteer group, and includes a long jetty down into the middle of the lake, but the lake has been dry since the 1970's. It's not expected to fill again.
With the tent up in a great little camp spot, and with Neviland Keygan getting tea on, I take my camera and escape for a walk to the jetty. In dry weather you can drive right across this lake. Tonight, with the rain, I can't even walk on the soil. It sticks to my boots like glue. Within just a few steps my feet are heavy and caked in grey, sticky mud. I'll stay on the jetty.
There are masses of tiny melons, strung together like beads.

PHOTO: I get down low and get some shots along the strings. The tiny melons stretch from one side of the photo frame to the other.

PHOTO: I stand on the top of the jetty and get a panorama shot of the dry lake, wet from the rain. It's just on sunset (but the cloud prevents me from getting anything brilliantly spectacular).