More Solo Fun 2026

For twelve days I wandered the Nambung District on my own again — walking dunes, tracing old fence lines, and following the faint echoes of stories left behind by Alf Passfield. The fires of the previous year have softened into memory now, and the bush is slowly reclaiming what was briefly exposed. In that shifting space, I found a different kind of adventure: quieter, more personal, full of small revelations that only appear when you stay long enough to notice.

This year brought the last glimpses of fire‑revealed pinnacles, the rediscovery of Molah Pinnacle from Alf’s book, and the thrill of finally standing in the exact spot where he once peered through a pinnacle — a moment I’ve been searching for across many trips. I revisited the places I thought I knew, recognised others only after re‑reading Nambung Here We Come, and watched the landscape slowly stitch itself back together.

These photographs capture the subtle beauty of a country in transition: the flattened dunes firmed by rain, the cold mornings in the truck, the fragile fossilised roots, the rusting Alf Passfield signage weathering another year of salt and sand, and the soft overcast light that turned ordinary days into something special.

It was a season of quiet discoveries — and I’m grateful to share them here.