I spent three days this month on pristine Ngunnawal Country to attempt to film alpine dingoes. I think they play a very important role in the film to show just how well adapted dingoes are to survive in Australia given they can thrive in the dry centre, the coastal dunes, the lush rainforest and the snowy mountains!

I left work around 3pm and made my way south. I had never been to this area so I was particularly excited to explore it. When I arrived, the sun was just setting over the tops of the mountains in the distance. There were Eastern grey kangaroos in numbers that I hadn’t seen anywhere else. Everywhere you looked you could see their distinctive grey hump that broke the surface of the grasses when they were hunched over feeding. There were a lot of joeys who were still getting their heads around life outside of the pouch. Their awkward bounding of skinny limbs is always a treat to watch.

The temperature dropped very quickly as the sun set so and after a big day at work, I was very much ready for bed. I set up my swag and read my kindle for a half an hour before I called it a night. I am re-reading the Harry Potter series for a second time as a way of trying to spend less money on books. There is something grounding about reading a fantasy book while hearing the sounds of the Australian bush at night all around you. There are some noises that sound like they could come straight from a page of the transphobic queen herself.

Just after midnight, I was awoken to a dingo howl. It is hard to gauge distance from sound in this area because the mountains that surround the park create an incredible echo chamber that is very disorientating. They sounded like they were close but I really have no idea how far away they were. I knew this was a promising sign and fell back asleep with a smile on my face.

The next morning I woke up at 5:06am to try and see if I could spot any dingoes. This particular morning was an unseasonably cold morning. I checked the temperature and it was sitting at a toasty 1 degree. Thankfully I had packed the right gear to cope with the cold and with numb fingers, I strapped up my boots and headed into the mountains.

I found a good spot that had a great panoramic view of the fog filled valley. The only sounds were the occasional call of a raven and the soothing trickle of the Gudgenby River filled with the melted snow from a late dumping of snow late last year. I sat here for an hour as the sun rose and got some shots with the drone of the fog that seemed to engulf everything below it. As the sun rose, so to do the grip the fog held. I suddenly could see more and more kangaroo mobs littering the horizons. The juveniles were practicing their best fighting combinations while the adults kept both eyes on the ground and both ears twitching listening for anything on the horizon.

After seeing no signs of any dingoes in this spot, I decided to head further into the mountains. As much as I love the drone as a “surveying” tool, it doesn’t compare to seeing an area on foot. I crossed a thin river and headed to a patch of bushland sitting atop a crest between two mountains. The terrain was fairly easy going for the alpine region, but the grasses were thick and dense. They were dropping their prickly seeds at the time so my boots and socks were full of these things. Every few kilometres, I would take off my boots and socks and pull them all out to avoid feeling like I had a serious case of pins and needles.

After 4 hours of treking with no signs of any dingoes, I decided to follow the other animals in the areas advice and get out of the sun. What little shade the environment had was filled completely with a vast array of wildlife. Ravens would frolic between mobs of sleeping kangaroos. Galahs would take a break from their booming screech and find a shady branch to retreat to momentarily. Knowing nothing would be out during these times, I decided to head back to the car for lunch. I was so far from where I started, it would have been impossible to retrace my footsteps but I knew what direction I needed to walk in and eventually I would hit a road. Once I found the road, I would head south until I found my car. Easy enough, right?

I think the drone makes the river look much smaller than what it did in person. At least that his what I am telling myself.

I made my way down a valley towards the river that was nothing but a 1m wide trickle where I crossed for the first time. This was a few kilometres upstream. What was in front of me was a 5-6m wide river that, despite its clarity, I couldn’t see even close to the bottom of it. I walked 2km up river where I thought it may get thinner and thus more practical to cross. I was tired, hungry, a little dehydrated and a bit disappointed I hadn’t even turned my camera on yet. So naturally, I thought I would just push through it. I strapped my backpack a little higher than normal, threw my camera and tripod over my shoulder like I was doing an appalling impression of Blinky Bill and off I went. Thinking the river was only going to be shin deep, I accepted the fate of my boots and took my first step into the river. So far, so good. As suspected it was only ankle deep. Second step; same depth. Third step I put my weight down on a bank that did not exist and fell straight into the river. I was in a freezing river up to my bellybutton with a half submerged backpack with all of my (uninsured) camera gear. I frantically crawled at the bank while my camera hung delicately over the river like an animal approaching a crocodile infested river for a drink.

I eventually pulled my way out and had no choice but to smile and laugh it off. My equipment was wet, but not destroyed. It had been through much worse in the past. I eventually made my way back to the car and headed into town to grab some lunch. I hung my pants and socks out the windows of my car to dry as I was driving. I thought this was very normal but given the amount of strange looks I received, I think I must have been wrong.

As the sun started to set, I had another attempt at spotting dingoes from a higher vantage point on a large rock overlooking the valley. I have been trying to learn how to make a vocalisation that might get a response from a dingo and on this afternoon it did manage to work! I heard a howl from over the ridge line but sadly never saw the dingo who made it. I got some shots of some eastern greys and then called it a night.

The next day looked very much the same. Early start, sitting in the cold, no luck seeing any dingoes. It is hard to not feel a little disappointed when this happens. Obviously these are wild animals that cover huge distances that I could never compete with. I also need to keep in mind that during all of these trips, I need to look at the bigger picture. The documentary is like a giant puzzle and every one of these trips is adding a few pieces to the puzzle. While some trips result in more progress towards completing the puzzle, some may only add a single piece. But it is all progress in the right direction.

As I was leaving to drive back to Sydney, I heard the very distinctive call of a bird that I have been wanting to see in the wild for years; a Gang-gang cockatoo! I was on a very skinny dirt road so I had nowhere to pull over so I just stopped in the middle of the road and hoped that nobody was going to try and get past me! I followed the screeching sound and realised that there wasn’t just the one bird; there was at least 10! It was a very special moment and I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. Unfortunately, it was at this point that I released my lens wasn’t working as it should be.

I am not sure when it started happening but the electronics in my lens were malfunctioning so that my aperture couldn’t change and my autofocus was not working at all. This lens has been my go-to lens for 5 years now. I bought it second hand and put some work into it to make sure that it was performing as best it could. But sadly this may be the last trip I take this lens on. I have booked it in for repairs this week so we will see if they are able to perform a miracle.

This trip was a harsh reminder that no matter how much you plan, no matter how many times you fixate over maps and weather patterns, these are still unpredictable wild animals. This has been my second attempt at filming alpine dingoes and the first attempt went very much the same as this one. Alpine dingoes play an incredibly important role in the ecosystem (as well as my film) so I will be continuing to look for them over the coming months before winter grasps the landscape and leaves it unrecognisable.

CHASING GHOSTS Ngunnawal Country

Omeo’s Infamous Dingo Tree