From Hell’s Gate we returned via the Coastal Walk, a 2.7 km walk. This track is vastly different to the Tanglewood Track and varies in difficulty from easy with wheelchair access (approx 1 km ), and moderate fitness required for the remainder. I felt the path was good the whole way and this showed by the number of people at Hell’s Gate with the foot traffic and water activities increasing as we got closer to the day use area.

There are a number of bays along the track and although none are patrolled the number of surfers make it look like Pitt Street ( a street in Sydney that is very busy). Picnic Cove is the first cove on route, closely followed by Granite Bay.

I was incredibly lucky to spy from the cliffs a tortoise diving and surfacing repeatedly.

As we came into Tea Tree Bay I spied a photographer

and following his line of sight I honed in on a surfer that I thought was a girl. I stalked her with my camera. Her command of the board was superb. I realised when she came to the beach that it was a male and had I been able to see the fine detail of the photos I would have seen the giveaway goatee. It was such a pleasure to watch such poetry in motion. No sooner had he caught a wave he was back out again to catch another..

the others waited, and waited and waited.

The traffic on the path increased as we neared our destination.

Once we reached the Boiling Pot we knew we were close to home. The coastal scenery was spectactular looking back to Noosa and the jet skis were out in force enjoying the freedom of the ocean waves.

The surfers on this walk gave me inspiration for this weeks 99 word flash fiction challenge from Carrot Ranch where we were asked in 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about zippers. What are the zippers for? What challenges do they present to the story? Go where the prompt leads!. Join in it is great fun.

The First Date

“Listen  to….” Carl couldn’t get a word in. Bringing Cassie on a first date to his  favourite walk was a mistake. Her constant chatter drowned out the birdsong he so loved.

“Put a zip in it.” Heard at last, he breathed a sigh of relief when she marched ahead, shoulders set firm. Peace enveloped him.

Carl followed her. A surfer was the next victim to her chatter.  She turned her back on Carl,  saying loudly, “The zipper on your wetsuit’s jammed. I’ll help you, then let’s get a cup of coffee.”

“Zippety do dah. Yep. Things were going his way.