When the ground evened out a little, we left the track entirely and tramped over the heath, through the Rams Head range – a collection of giant granite boulders and tors.

With the wind blowing at a steady 25km/h, there was certainly a bit of Wuthering Heights going on. The landscape was treeless, consisting of the boulders and tors, a smattering of pure white wildflowers, criss-crossing streams, and heath that was spongy underfoot.

The only trace of snow were the grubby snow drifts (grubby due to the dust storms of recent months).

I loved walking through this landscape, especially the boulders; its weathered, mottled surface warmed by the sun so that little ferns can grow at its base.

There was a beauty in this starkness, and a certain romance too, when you think that this was Man From Snowy River country.