With a healthy respect for the crocs, we headed up into the mountainous rainforest to a place called Mossman Gorge where two sreams feed into one spectacular fresh water river. After gazing at the illicit swimming hole, we inadvertently separated into two groups. PK, Isabella and Emmett stayed for a swim while Grandpa, Grandma, Clare and I hiked up the rainforest trail--several km through dense vegetation, over slippery rocks, past strangler figs that looked at too much like the pythons we knew were lurking up in the trees. Ever vigilant for the elusive cassowary, we only came upon a lyre bird or two, but the trees were the real attraction.
The other group caught up, speeding through the trek to find us. Turns out PK had had quite an adventure of his own back at the swimming hole. A mother and son were in danger of being swept downstream, so PK dove in and saved the day!
I thought Gma and Gpa were pretty heroic too, taking on the rainforest with Indiana Jones-like proficiency.
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