Belah Camp: A peaceful night in the Mungo silence

By the time I rolled into Belah Camp on my pushbike, the sun was dropping low and my legs were cooked. I’d just clocked 27 kilometres along the Lake Mungo Discovery Loop, a track that’s strictly 4WD and dirt-bicycle-only—no caravans, no sedans, and definitely no tour buses. Just red dust, scrubby bush, and space.

The first half of the ride was pretty straightforward—flat gravel and wide open saltbush country—but it started to get tricky where the mallee trees and sandy lunette edges begin to mix. Deep patches of sand kept trying to rip the handlebars from my grip, and I had to push through more than a few times.

So arriving at Belah Camp felt like a small victory.

It’s a no-frills, self-sufficient sort of place: a handful of cleared gravel sites with shade from the low trees, non-flush toilets, a few picnic tables, and a water tank that’s strictly not for drinking. I knew that in advance and had packed all the essentials—including a fuel stove for cooking, since open fires are banned.

Dinner was a simple tine of chunky beef and instant rice, and it tasted like five-star dining after the day I’d had. There’s no mobile reception here, no hum of generators or caravan air cons—just silence, proper silence. That kind of deep, ancient stillness that feels heavier in a place like this.

As the last light slipped away, I lay back under a sky full of stars. Mungo delivers the kind of night that reminds you just how noisy the rest of the world is.

I was up with the sun the next morning, ready for what I knew would be a tougher second half—long sandy bogs and rougher ground.

But I left Belah with full hearts and a clear head. It’s one of those rare spots where nature gets to do the talking.