Hiking Lerderderg State Park (With a Dog)

This is a guest post by Fam Charko.

If you want to get out of the city for a day or a week, Lerderderg State Park has it all. It’s only 1 – 1.5 hours to the west of Melbourne and provides outdoor experiences for all types of visitors. It has free car camping spots right on the river, 4WD and motorbike tracks, challenging hikes up and down steep razorback ridges, mountaintop vistas, wheelchair-accessible day picnic areas and hard-to-get-to hiking trails that leave you breathless with effort. This park has been a spiritual refuge for me for years, and I want to share with you a challenging two-day pack-hiking route that includes some beautiful riverside camping.

The reason I personally like this park is that despite its proximity to the city, it is very easy to get away from the motorbikes and really feel like you are miles away from civilisation. It feels much more remote than you would expect from a State Park. Every year there is at least one news article about an unprepared day hiker with no map who gets lost and is forced to spend an uncomfortably cold night in the park, before being airlifted out by helicopter the next day. How embarrassing. Don’t be that person. Bring a paper map, a compass (and learn how to use it), spare rations and water in addition to your GPS and phone maps. Mobile coverage is okay in most of the park, but certainly not available everywhere. 

The Lerderderg River snakes right through the park and when it runs, its waters run cold and tan-coloured, forming many great swimming holes along its length. The park’s more remote areas very much resemble a national park, with the gorge sporting gigantic pile-ups of logs and organic debris from countless flash-floods, lined with stunning wildflowers like native heath, orchids and bush peas. There are birds, wombats and swamp wallabies galore. Some threatened species can be found here too, like brush-tailed phascogales, common gliders and common bent-winged bats. Unfortunately, there are also goats. Lots of goats.

A side note on hiking with dogs in Lerderderg State Park

A big plus for me is that in this park there are areas where you can bring your dog for company. Hiking with my Aussie Shepherd is one of my favourite things in the world. The first time I took Loki hiking was in this park. You should have seen his face when it dawned on him that the place was full of sticks - priceless.

Your pooch is allowed on the lead in the sections of the park that are not marked conservation or reference zone. They are not allowed in the Mackenzie’s Flat day visitor area, but you can pass through to get to the trails. 

If you are hiking the razorbacks, it is advisable to have your dog wear an outdoor harness so you can help him climb any steep sections. Another heads-up is on snakes: I once had the great fortune of seeing a beautiful eastern brown sunning itself on a log right next to the trail. I also had the great fortune that my dog didn’t notice it before I did. Always stick to the trail, and consider restricting hiking with dogs to the colder months of the year, when our slithery friends are hibernating. 

Loki the Australian Shepherd ready for adventure.

Loki the Australian Shepherd ready for adventure.

This route starts down the south side of the park, at Mackenzie’s Flat picnic ground, where you can park your car overnight. 

My canine sidekick and I were there in May and the river was dry as a bone. This happens a lot, so always make sure you carry enough water with you. I bring a few litres plus a very good water filter and iodine pills, so I’m able to take water from rock pools. Loki carries his own water in his backpack, together with his food, bed, snacks, poo bags and of course my hip flask of rum. 

The first few kilometres to Graham’s Dam follow the river in a north-westerly direction, passing many riverside campsites and wombat holes. In summer and early autumn the river is dry, making it easy to cross, but in other seasons be prepared for multiple river crossings and getting wet feet. As this part of the walk is flat and close to the car park, I spot bits of rubbish left behind by campers and day hikers. This is often the unfortunate reality of easily accessible areas, but don’t let that deter you if you want to bush camp without hiking a long way: the campsites themselves are all quite stunning. They are flat and grassy, with amazing views of the gorge and some even have their own private swimming holes.

Our hike starts out great with Loki sticking his nose in an old wombat hole occupied by a wasp nest and promptly getting stung on the forehead. As I mutter curses under my breath and pull out the stinger, he looks up at me with a stupid grin on his face and his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. Dogs… it’s a good thing they’re cute. 

At Graham’s Dam we cross the river and hike half a kilometre to the start of one of the park’s more challenging trails. The aptly named Spur Track quickly rises a steep 400 metres and follows a razorback ridge. The map says it will take me 1.5 hours to hike all of the 2.5km. I don’t believe I will take that long, but I’m wrong. Within a few minutes I’m sweating and panting as I haul myself and my big pack up the shale slope, using my hands more than once for the steep sections. Loki has no problem getting up there. He engages his 4PD (four-paw drive) and climbs up like a mountain goat, hopping from one rock to the next. 

When I finally make it up the steep section and the slope becomes more gentle, I can hear a faint bleating. I climb onto a big boulder next to the track and am treated to a breathtaking view of the river. The gorge walls on the other side rise a near-vertical 200 metres from the water.  I can see some struggling little saplings trying to get a foothold, imagining larger trees eventually getting too heavy and falling into the river below. Those pile-ups of logs in the gorge all of a sudden make a lot more sense. 

I am using my binoculars to look at some small, inaccessible caves when I see them: a herd of goats happily chewing away on tough shrubs. They balance effortlessly on the steep rock face, never disturbing the treacherously loose shards of shale as they navigate the ravine on tiny hooves. As always when I see feral animals, the trained ecologist in me wrestles with the compassionate animal lover. I watch cute piebald kids chase each other up and down the rocks, fearing for their safety every second. Of course they never fall. Eons of natural selection have perfected their mountaineering skills in this inhospitable landscape. Inhospitable to their predators, that is. For them it is a comfortable home and they are thriving at the expense of Victoria’s native species. With a sigh, I move on and give silent thanks that I’m not the one who has to do the very necessary annual cull.

Continuing up the slope, the vistas only get better. I frequently stop to catch my breath and take advantage of large boulders sticking out over the valley to enjoy a raptor’s view of the gorge. One time, I spot a small peregrine falcon gliding on the updrafts below. My shirt and the back of my pack are drenched with sweat by then. I’m glad I brought enough water. 

The author and her dog.

The author and her dog.

About halfway up the spur, Loki alerts me to human traffic coming up the back of us. I’ve barely cleared off the narrow path when a trail runner passes me with a cheerful ‘hello!’ He continues speeding up the hill, shirt off and gleaming with sweat, a cloud of aftershave trailing behind him. I feel like I’ve just seen a ghost. Was that really a guy running up the hill that I just took an hour to climb? He wasn’t even out of breath! I resolve to become fitter this year as I soldier on to the end of the track. 

When we make it to the top, Loki and I celebrate with lunch and a dried pig’s ear. The Lerderderg Tunnel Access Track is an uneventful service road lined by young eucalypts obscuring any views of the gorge. But at least it goes downhill. A short way to the north, the track veers right and on the left there is a locked gate that allows access for hikers and management vehicles. We squeeze through and follow the service road down to the river. At the bottom, we marvel at the large structure that is the weir. This concrete giant diverts the river to the Merrimu Reservoir, which supplies Bacchus Marsh with water. We hike a ways up the river and make camp near the only waterhole that is not green with algae. The water filter is doing a good job here and soon we are enjoying our dinner.

Night falls and Loki and I bask in the warmth of a small fire. Every now and then sparks land on his thick fur, but he doesn’t care. He’s curled up next to me, alert, staring into the dark, always on guard duty. I watch the microbats fly their feeding patterns along the tree line, their tiny silhouettes projected on a background of a million stars. The gorge is silent and beautiful.

It’s a rough awakening to the screeching of sulphur-crested cockatoos the next morning. I moan and pull my sleeping bag over my head. I love being woken by a dawn chorus, but these guys are more like the avian version of the Sex Pistols; good fun, just not first thing in the morning. Grumpily reminding myself that nature is beautiful, I get up to make our breakfast. 

Our first challenge ensues as soon as we start our hike. I check my map for the Long Point Track trailhead, but it’s not detailed enough to show the exact location. We walk upriver for a while, but the path quickly disappears into a thicket of inaccessible underbrush. I switch on my phone and check my GPS map. Still no love. We walk the same stretch of river a few times, right in between the razorback and the steep cliffs on the south side. When I pull out the map once again and follow the altitude contours with my finger, I realise I need to go up somewhere. I scan the area around the weir for the faintest sign of a trail and my heart sinks as I realise I’ve been looking at it the whole time: it is a 30-metre vertical climb up the razorback. 

“Okay mate,” I say to Loki, “We wanted adventure. We got it.” He looks up at me happily. I briefly consider tying him to me by his lead in case he slips, but quickly decide that would be super stupid. He weighs 26kg and I’m already carrying a 16kg pack on my back that makes climbing a vertical wall challenging enough. If he falls while attached to me, we both go. After examining our options, there’s nothing else for us to do but climb. 

The Lerderderg River when it is full.

The Lerderderg River when it is full.

Loki goes first. Turns out he’s actually quite capable of climbing. It does help that he is a young, healthy working breed with plenty of energy. If your dog is large and less spirited, I do not recommend taking this route. On the steepest sections I have to help Loki by lifting him by the handle on the back of his harness. I won’t lie: lifting a dog with one hand while holding on to a vertical rock face with the other is tricky. By the time we reach the top, we are both panting and the adrenaline is making my hands shaky. But hey, what is an adventure without ever getting out of your comfort zone? Another boring day in the office, that’s what.

The view from the razorback, however, makes up for it in spades. The windy 360° views are absolutely breathtaking. It’s a really narrow trail with ravines on either side, so I can recommend keeping your dog on a short leash as you make your way over the loose shale. The trail keeps rising steadily until we reach marker 510 and Blackwood Ranges Track. This well-maintained management track is part of the 280km-long Victorian Great Dividing Trail, also known as the Goldfields Track. To give you an idea about the effort it takes to hike Long Point Track, it has taken us about 1.5 hours to hike a little over 2km. 

Turning south on the Blackwood Ranges Track, it’s an easy hour downhill until we reach Link Track No. 1, which descends steeply back into the gorge to connect with Graham’s Dam. I love this part of the hike. It’s a bit challenging going downhill over the loose shards of shale, but there are many places to veer off the track for a rest and a spectacular view of the river. On one of those breaks I look down on the backs of not one, but four wedge-tailed eagles flying in the ravine below me. Two parents and their chicks are surging upward on a thermal, swooping straight past me and out of the ravine, as if they are being shot up into the sky by invisible slings. I whoop at them as they ascend and shade my eyes until I see nothing but small specks drawing circles against the cloudless sky. There sure is magic in this place, and it has feathers and mottled wings.

The last few kilometres back to Mackenzie’s Flat are blessedly horizontal and allow a cool-down for tired legs. I feel tired yet satisfied and am a little reluctant to leave this amazing place. In an hour I am back home, enjoying the memories of the wild and my sore calf muscles for a long time after. Loki sleeps for two days straight.

Tips

  • You and your dog both need a reasonable level of fitness.
  • If you bring your dog, make sure it’s wearing a sturdy outdoor harness so you can help it through steep sections.
  • Good hiking boots, water and navigation tools are essential.
  • Binoculars are a great addition for wildlife watching.
  • Check the weather predictions and the state of the river before you go; unexpected flash flooding in the park happens regularly. Use common sense when choosing your campsite.

Fam Charko is a marine biologist, environmental educator and science communicator. She helps people reconnect with nature using science, storytelling and immersive experiences in the local environment.


All images courtesy of Fam Charko.

Bewilderment

Grass stained knees and palms of dusty dirt,

Old brown boots and a tattered, torn shirt,

Over and under the rusted, barbed wire.

Young hoping heart would – nay, could – not tire

To go and see the wild.

 

Science, then, was opaque - strange. unknown;

Featherless, furless and dry as old bone.

“Biologist?” They said, “I was to be?”

“Not I”, I said. Lab coats wouldn’t help me,

To go and see the wild.

 

I’d rather tell stories of beak and claw,

Embody their merits and relate the awe 

Than reduce nature to a simple equation.

Such was my naïve, shrugging evasion,

To go and see the wild. 

 

My degree? It’s just a means to an end

I thought, yet my ignorance it did amend.

This thing – Science – was not callous or cold,

It would not stop me, as clichés had told,

To go and see the wild.

 

Feathers and fur, and yes – even dry bone,

Take on new life when new facts become known.

You can imagine my young mind’s surprise

When Science came knocking and opened my eyes.

And now - I see the wild.


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Chris McCormack
Chris graduated from The University of Melbourne with a Master of Science in Zoology and has spent the past two years working for the Victorian government delivering citizen science projects. He is the Managing Director of Wild Melbourne and pursues his interests in science and natural history through the mediums of film, photography and written communication. 


Banner image courtesy of Robert Geary.

More Wild Science

This year for National Science Week, the team at Wild Melbourne want to know how YOU feel about science and nature - why is science important to you when you explore the natural world and how has it changed your perspective? Whether it's chasing birds, growing plants, understanding ecology, or painting a landscape, science affects the way we perceive nature in so many ways. Today, more of the Wild Melbourne team share their thoughts on science and its relevance to their relationship with nature. If you haven't already seen our first Wild Science article, make sure you have a read here.

Ella Kelly - PhD Candidate // Wild Melbourne Writer

In Year 12, I had no clue what I wanted to do with my life. On a visit to the University of Melbourne Open Day, we walked past the Zoology building and my dad suggested we check it out. Ten years later, I’ve completed my Bachelor, Master's, and am now working on my PhD in Science, all in that building (I really need to get out more). I work in conservation, which can be incredibly challenging – there’s a lot of sad stories out there – but I still have hope. I work on protecting predators threatened by the cane toad invasion. When the toads originally arrived, things looked grim; native predators were poisoned by them and populations disappeared fast. Now, we're seeing species adapt to the toads, and with the help of a bunch of very dedicated people and some really cool science, they have a good chance of survival.

Trish Koh - Master of Science Candidate // Wild Melbourne Social Media Volunteer

To me, science isn’t just about lab coats and counting species; it forms the backstory to everything in this world. When I was a kid, I wanted to find out everything about anything. Unfortunately, sometime during high school, I fell out of love of science and just wanted good marks. While studying a completely different university course, a chance encounter with a science communication lecturer re-ignited my passion for science. I want to make sure that everyone can still re-connect with science because we can appreciate everything a little more if we know the story behind it. That’s why I love making science accessible to everyone by summarising the latest science and nature news for the Wild Melbourne social media pages.

Master of Science candidate Trish Koh is passionate about making science accessible to everyone. Image: Trish Koh

Master of Science candidate Trish Koh is passionate about making science accessible to everyone. Image: Trish Koh

Evatt Chirgwin - PhD Candidate // Wild Melbourne Writer

A friend once asked if I was pursuing a career in science because I like knowing things. She was surprised when I told her it was actually because of the opposite. Don’t get me wrong, I like knowing things; I’ve spent countless enjoyable hours learning facts and theories from books, journal articles, teachers, researchers, and friends. In more recent years, my own research into how natural populations adapt to environmental change has lead to results that I personally find extremely interesting and that I hope can aid broader conservation efforts. However, for me, science is at its most exciting when it gives me the feeling of curiosity upon encountering the things we don’t know or understand. Above all else, this feeling of curiosity – whether it arises from my research or simply observing critters at my local beach – is why I pursue work and a life in science.

Cathy Cavallo - PhD Candidate // Science Communicator // Wild Melbourne Social Media Manager

Growing up around science has helped me understand and question life as it goes on around me. I always want to learn more, and while this curiosity fuels investigation, every investigation triggers further curiosity. Seriously! Science is an endless, immersive cycle of discovery and intrigue that I find utterly captivating. Through science communication and engagement, I try to spark this curiosity in others. I am currently turning this curiosity towards understanding the foraging ecology of little penguins and how we might employ them to study change in the marine environment. By doing so, we may be better placed to protect our marine biodiversity in our changing environment. But science doesn’t have to be formal, hard or empirical. Wondering at the world about us is an exercise in science. I wish more people realised that.

Elodie Camprasse - Wild Melbourne Community Outreach & Events Manager

I have been passionate about marine life for as long as I can remember and was fortunate enough to learn diving as a kid. I was in awe immediately and felt very blessed to see incredible creatures that not a lot of people get to see: fishes, invertebrates, marine mammals... Later on, I became interested in seabirds. They were creatures I could very rarely see underwater. Nowadays, technology allows us to put tiny devices on seabirds and other animals, in order to track them. As they spend most of their time at sea, this is the only way we get to find out what they're doing in a meaningful way. With the devices I used on birds such as penguins during my PhD, I could know where my study individuals went, and even at which depths and in which places they were attempting to catch prey. We are now even able to deploy miniature cameras on the heads of marine creatures to know what they're up to. This is only one of the many ways science and technology help us understand our natural world in order to better protect it.

Elodie Camprasse developed a love for the ocean from a young age, and has been fortunate enough to see some amazing things during her PhD research. Image: Elodie Camprasse

Elodie Camprasse developed a love for the ocean from a young age, and has been fortunate enough to see some amazing things during her PhD research. Image: Elodie Camprasse

Rachel Fetherston - Wild Melbourne Publications Manager

The collaboration of the arts and sciences has always been a part of my life. From reading and writing, to walking and snorkelling, without either school of thought it is safe to say my perspective of the world would be very different. Art informs science and science informs art, in more ways than one. Writing about how humans perceive nature, whether in a creative or simply informative way, is reliant on how I understand nature through science. And vice versa too - science can be dependent on art and creativity, and the process of simply writing down your ideas to stimulate the mind and encourage novelty is so important. The most vital perspectives that I believe science brings to a person’s view of the world are complexity and understanding. Nothing is what it seems, but I think that everything can be or will one day be understood. You don’t need to fear the unknown - instead embrace it, with the knowledge that science may one day reveal more about the world than we ever thought possible. If this is the case, we have no excuse not to protect the natural world when we so clearly know what is happening to it.

Tim Brown - Master of Science Candidate // Wild Melbourne Productions & Social Media

One of my favourite possessions as a child was this personalised mug. On it were three words beginning with T, I and M and my favourite Looney Tunes character - the Tasmanian Devil. While I didn’t care about the words at the time, I distinctly remember one of them was ‘inquisitive’. It seems this mug was a prophecy of sorts. My inquisitive nature has only blossomed as the years have passed, thanks largely to science. Science has helped me learn so much about the natural world around us. But science not only provides answers - it also teaches us what questions we need to ask. This has lead me to my current research on helping the recovery of a native wetland fish. While they're no Tasmanian devils, dwarf galaxias (my study species) can survive for months without surface water by hiding in yabby burrows or under stones.

Stephen McGain - Wild Melbourne Writer

From the earliest age I can remember, I have always explored the natural world and been fascinated by the complexity and diversity of the plants and animals that live all around us. I always wanted to know why certain animals looked a certain way or fed only on specific food types. More broadly, understanding science helped me to make sense of what I came into contact with in my everyday activities, and explained why some things behaved the way they did, whilst others behaved differently. Science is now more than just an interest to me. I see it as a way of the future - that is, the way new technologies will be integrated into modern society and how they will transform the way we know and live into the future. This, to me, is incredibly exciting.

Stephen McGain loves learning about the complexity and diversity of life on Earth through science. Image: Stephen McGain

Stephen McGain loves learning about the complexity and diversity of life on Earth through science. Image: Stephen McGain


Let us know YOUR thoughts on science and nature by commenting below or - better yet - by sharing them on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook using the hashtag #wildscience. We'd love to hear from you! 

 

                                                  

 

Wild Science

This year for National Science Week, the team at Wild Melbourne want to know how YOU feel about science and nature - why is science important to you when you explore the natural world and how has it changed your perspective? Whether it's chasing birds, growing plants, understanding ecology, or painting a landscape, science affects the way we perceive nature in so many ways. Today, some of the Wild Melbourne team share their thoughts on science and its relevance to their relationship with nature. 

Paul Jones – Educator // Wild Melbourne Writer

For me – and I’m sure I’m not alone – science isn’t a cabinet of facts to bring out and look at; it’s a toolbox, to reach out to the world and understand it in marvellous, complex clarity. The facts, discoveries, and inventions we make are the reward for our curiosity. My work has recently taken me into the biomedical sciences; the scientists I speak with are seeking to solve problems in cancer, disease, reproduction, and immunity, to improve the quality of life for some of our most vulnerable members of society. National Science Week is a wonderful way to remind people what their curiosity may lead to, both for humans and all the different living things we share our world with. It’s a passion and enthusiasm that we are born knowing, always asking one more question. And always the same ones – what? How? Why?

Alex Mullarky - Wild Melbourne Publications Sub-editor

My background is in arts, but what inspires me to write is the world around me. Science allows me to process what I see and experience and understand how it all fits together. The wonderful thing about working with an organisation like Wild Melbourne is the dedication to exploring and communicating scientific ideas in a way that anyone – even arts graduates! – can understand. One of my favourite things is meeting people who have dedicated themselves to studying some facet of how our world works, and using the skills I have to help them tell their stories. At home on the farm, it’s also important to me to turn to science to figure out the best ways to manage my domesticated animals in harmony with the native environment. 

On a recent expedition through the Rhodope Mountains of Bulgaria, writer Alex Mullarky used her talent for writing and knowledge of the natural world to educate others about local wildlife. Image: Alex Mullarky

On a recent expedition through the Rhodope Mountains of Bulgaria, writer Alex Mullarky used her talent for writing and knowledge of the natural world to educate others about local wildlife. Image: Alex Mullarky

Sam Lemaitre - Wild Melbourne Community Outreach & Events Assistant

My passion for nature and the sciences of nature started young. I grew up watching David Attenborough’s documentaries and developed a strong curiosity for how animals function and interact with each other. Knowing wildlife is the first step to protecting it and science provides us with amazing tools to do so. I am now pursuing that passion by studying a Bachelor of Science in Zoology and I really enjoy learning about Australian wildlife and its amazing diversity!

Anne Aulsebrook - PhD Candidate // Wild Melbourne Admin & HR Manager

As a kid, I don’t think I understood what science was. I remember complaining as a twelve-year-old that science class had no relevance to my life. Hilariously, my friend replied, ‘Yeah, science is useless for me; I want to be a marine biologist!’ – so I clearly wasn’t alone. But within a few years, my perspective changed. I had always cared about the natural environment, and I liked learning how living things worked. When I was fifteen, I completed work experience at the Melbourne Aquarium, and also in a marine biology lab. I learnt that around 30% of sharks lay eggs, and that it is more sustainable to eat calamari than flake. I learnt that scientists can be young women who make up dance moves during their labwork. I ended up studying a Bachelor of Science at university, majoring in zoology and ecology. Now, I’m researching how streetlights affect birds, and hoping to help reduce the impacts of urbanisation on wildlife. 

Rowan Mott - Ecologist at Monash University // Wild Melbourne Writer

I catch birds for science. When I release them a few minutes later, there is a high likelihood that each bird will be wearing a uniquely numbered metal leg band, be carrying a GPS tracking device, and may be missing a couple of small feathers or a drop or two of blood. Although this is highly stressful for the unlucky birds that I catch, this one short moment of stress can tell us a vast amount of information about the movements of the bird, its diet, and its general state of health – all of which is important for discovering how the species interacts with its environment and the threats it may be facing.

Ecologist Rowan Mott catches birds for science, learning how we can better protect species in the process. Image: Rowan Mott

Ecologist Rowan Mott catches birds for science, learning how we can better protect species in the process. Image: Rowan Mott

 

Ellie Michaelides - Head Mediator at Science Gallery Melbourne // Wild Melbourne Communications & PR Manager

I studied zoology for five years at university, but at the end of my degrees I decided that I liked talking to people about science more than doing research in the lab or out in the field. Communicating science in a way that is clear and concise, but also relevant and interesting, is crucial to helping people see why it is so incredibly important in almost every aspect of our lives. I love science because it provides an explanation or an answer for almost anything you can think of, from curing disease outbreaks and saving endangered species, to making cars safer and crops more efficient.

Leonardo Guida - Wild Melbourne Community Operations Director

The ocean is my place for reflection. Looking across the vast blue and breathing in the salt air energises my body, mind, and soul. Through my PhD research, I was privileged to have the opportunity to develop a more intimate relationship with the ocean. I learnt about our relationships with sharks and rays and how our actions through fishing affect their populations. Whether dreaming from the shoreline or from under the waves, the ocean brings me peace.

Leonardo Guida believes that science has brought him closer to the marine life with which we share the oceans. Image: Leonardo Guida

Leonardo Guida believes that science has brought him closer to the marine life with which we share the oceans. Image: Leonardo Guida

Sarah Bond - Wild Melbourne Education Manager

Whenever I look around at the plants where I work, I am always struck by the diversity of the different species. All plants have the same constraints, the same needs, the same goals, and yet they have developed so many different ways of doing the same thing. Science has helped me to understand this, as well as taught me the skills of interpreting and identifying plants. I think of this every time I’m learning about a new (to me) plant species or comparing the different features of plants from the same family that are vastly different. Nature is incredible and continues to inspire me every day. 


Let us know YOUR thoughts on science and nature by commenting below or - better yet - by sharing them on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook using the hashtag #wildscience. We'd love to hear from you!