If you got away early enough you saw the spectacle of a full pink moon rising out of the lavender haze over Lake Cootharaba. With the tail enders stuck fast in the usual Friday afternoon traffic snarl, there was just enough mobile reception for those closest to Elanda Point to arrange a dinner date at the Boreen Point Hotel.

Four kayaks made the 3Km crossing from Elanda to Boreen Point to sniff out a safe landing on a beach with rocky sentries. The people along the foreshore enjoying BBQs and car side evening meals were only too happy to give directions to the pub, with the next request resulting in a friendly local escort right to the door. We found Ray and Ted having finished their meal, then sent them off to pack their boats while we waited for our juicy steak burgers with chips.

By now a soft NE was blowing a small chop. Hints of scattered lights and broken radio reception saw Tom head in closer to shore to await the remaining kayaks and canadian while Mark and I continued onto Kinaba. The waypoint took us right into the middle of the channel where shags refused to give up their night time roost on the entrance markers.

It was not long before the remaining kayaks and canadian pulled up for a leg stretch. The kayaks were tagged by a variety of lights from a glowing honey pot to what looked like an epileptic fire fly. It was just before midnight when the first of the kayaks nosed into the beach at Campsite 4. Soon after the contents of the canadian, including the paddlers had a brisk swim. The front paddler had stood up, did a stylish wiggle with arms outstretched but over wiggled. Three pumps cleared the swamped vessel and before long, unlike its paddlers, the canadian was high and dry.

The campsite was intimate and riddled with tree roots. Some decided to take a place in clearings a little way from the log perimeter. It was a cold night and the air thick with mist suspended like pollen. The idea of laksa soup bolstered by rice might have been good in theory but the rice had had plenty of time to soak up the moisture creating laksa glug. After digging supper out of the thermos and sharing some welcome cake and chocolate it was time to turn in with no one claiming early start privileges.

The next morning the river was shrouded by mist. After a leisurely start it was off to Campsite 3 where most walked up to the sandpatch. Mark and I wanted to take a look at the old tracks that head up river to the log landing then further inland where on Google Earth it looks like it eventually leads down to the beach. Heading away from Campsite 3 the track was clearly a dog and roo highway. It crossed a small stream then forked to the left at the top of a small rise. We took the left branch onto a wide and occasionally rutted track heading back down to the river where it finished in a loop. At the end of the track the log landing was marked by rotten remains of very large sectioned trunks. Given the evidence of 4WD it was surprising to find no rubbish or remains of camp fires. There was plenty of fresh growth and a variety of flowers were out in force.

Returning 1.2Km to the main track we headed right at the next intersection. While the sand was soft and churned at the turnoff, it did not look like much traffic came along this southern section of track. It had a firm base, no tyre tracks and was even washed smooth in places. Had a 4WD turned up, I don't know who would have had the bigger surprise. The first of the two lakes was brimming and edged by a metre of lush green reeds which were starting to encroach the track. The second smaller lake was on the opposite side, set amongst a denser canopy and made less accessible by thick reeds. Here we had lunch surrounded by a variety of bird song including tinging bell birds. The road looked like it was getting greener and we decided to leave it for another day.

Sundowners were taken on the sandy bank whilst the river transformed into a looking glass. While Heinz peppered steak in a tin was tasty, it did not rate with the delicious roast some ingenious campers had treated themselves too. After a few more wines it was time to make a call and stir the life into Dave. Worked a treat. It was not long before everyone was tucked in their tent for another brisk clear night.