At the end of this body numbing section, we came to a shelf of rock which stretched across the river, between two sheer walls. The water cas­caded over this wall in silver veils and in the caves beneath, beautiful ferns and mosses grew. We sat in the sun, listening to the falls and eating dried fruit in the heart of the Genoa Gorge. We wondered how many people, if any, had ever been here before. There is a tremendous satisfac­tion in being somewhere that very few people have ever been. Our dingo’s tracks were still in front of us and we learnt to follow his tracks as he picked the easiest path. We left the falls and continued our bone jar­ring hoppings and camped as the evening star began to shine. All the stars shone above the valley that night and the huge rim of the milky way arched above us, as a frost began to clutch the night in its grasp. It was a cold night and breakfast that morning was a silent affair as we clutched our mugs of tea and slowly thawed.